#a woman came to do a demonstration for the kids at work today and that's when the realization hit me

[my-beloved-lakes]

Ya'know what Eliot needs to do, fire jungling/flaming baton twirling.

[astarion-can-spawn-me]

Work Ethic

Park Ranger! Halsin x Park Ranger!Reader

Modern!Au because why the hell not?

Summary: may or may not have been heavily inspired by the park rangers I grew up around at my local culture center. That little old place holds such a special place in my heart. I am a junior park ranger after all 😎

Sweat beaded at your brow, but your hand was quick to delicately pat it away. The summers were unforgiving, even under the gray skies of the early morning. Though you could see off to the distance, just peeking over the green tree tops and old buildings of the past, just the faintest hues of orange and reds just ready to burst from beyond their little horizon. With the rays came the few farmers that lived within the small town, bidding their wives and children goodbye, the faint yelping of a dog from behind their glass windows are their happy panting as they hopped up along side their masters in their pick up. They would only have to drive a few miles further up a ways to hit their farms where they have been settled for the past 100 years or so.

It was an odd place to have a little culture center in such a small town, but a small town emblazoned with their own culture and tradition. Old murals adorned the sides of old buildings, depicting musicians and food. Though many of the locals didn’t visit the culture center, maybe occasionally for their child’s school field trip, it definitely didn’t see the action of it’s sister centers in the bigger cities nearby, but around certain holidays it would see it’s fair share of tourist, but now it was just another simple day.

This was far away from what you thought a park ranger would ever be doing. You always pictured a Steve Irwin type herding people through muddy river basins or through rough and rocky terrain along forest trails. You’ve come to appreciate the cultural and historical aspect of it all, it was probably for the best.

“Oh this stupid damned thing!” Huffed out a voice as you pushed past the glass doors. A thud came after it as a woman scrunched her face to the old thermostat. “You would think they would allow us to control our own AC instead of having to call the head office!”

“Now Ms.Jaheira, patience is a virtue!” You teased, your hat now being placed upon your head, fingers pinning the badge to your freshly ironed shirt.

Jaheira was a veteran in the field, hopping from one national park to the next. Her knowledge was admirable, but sometimes you would always catch the look of longing in those wise eyes, but the laid back nature suited her, at least now it did. It was less of a burden on her weathered shoulders, less pressure upon herself. If you did have to categorize her, she would have been the Steve Irwin type you always imagined as a child. She was the one to hobble through muddy basins and conquer rough woodland trails.

“Well good thing the all maker has bestowed such a prized gift onto you!” She chimed up, finally the ancient AC humming to life. Already the cool air began cutting through the stiff air like a knife. “It’s field trip day, remember”

She was already following you to the break room, her steps always precise, always made with confidence. Though she still gave you a stern look as your head tilted back with a little groan as you tossed your purse onto the table.

“Yes I know, which is why I have double checked with everyone today. Musicians are gonna be the first for their music demonstration. Then our local butcher has kindly volunteered for a cooking demonstration and you would be pleased that he is exonerated in one of our local dishes” your hand went to grab the phone out of your pants pocket, now scrolling through emails to double check your memory of the day’s itinerary. “Then dear old Elminster will calm things down with his history of the area and whatnot, then lunch time which has been donated. I also contacted wildlife and fisheries to have someone teach the kids the laws and safe handling of the wild life of the area, but they said they are sending over a ranger from one of the wildlife parks….oh! And then the old woman who runs the quilting club in the spare room will give a weaving lesson”

“Wow, I’m impressed” Jaheira said with a raise of her brows, a hand sassily placed upon her hip. “And you will be pleased to know I have set up the rooms for the different demonstrations, the band is here, Elminster is currently critiquing our displays, and the food preparations are all in order” she confirmed with you. Always orderly, you can always trust her to keep everything in line as well. A nice pair the two of your made. “It’s just our fellow park ranger we are waiting on…” she huffed out as she looked to the watch upon her wrist.

There was no time to worry about that, as the quiet humming of engines were already heard within the small break room. The wholesome sounds of buses, the chirping of kids and their teachers already urging them to quiet down. That was Jaheira’s cue to walk back to the front, opening the doors, that prideful smile upon her face as she greeted the children, their small bodies already pouring into the room, her voice already rising above all others to give off the usual spiel.

“Alright children! Are you ready to learn about your culture and history!’ She shouted excitedly to the children, already leading the group to the displays that lined the halls and little rooms, skillfully giving her explanations to the group of kids.

It left you to round up the musicians into their places, checking in on the cooking demonstrator, but of course…that left Elminster.

“Stop a bit and speak to an old man” he huffed out behind that wise, old beard of his as he clutched a shaky hand onto your outstretch arm.

“Maybe later Mr.Elminster, there’s a lot to do as you know” you said with a smile as you began urging him to the room that the band was setting up. “The kids are going to listen to the music, then head to the cooking demonstration and then head back to you, so it will give you much to ponder of how you are gonna educate them” you spoke up as you lead him to the room, helping him sit upon one of the upholstered chair.

“You are certainly right my dear, even though getting older is suppose to make one wise, it is still hard to find that right words, especially on an empty stomach” he said with a wink, but you already knew what he was eluding to.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have Jaheira bring you a plate when they are done with the cooking demonstration for lunch” which he gave you a kind pat on your bent down shoulder, all the response you needed to straighten up from your hunched down position. Though you were met by a towering figure the moment you turned around.

“My apologies for being late, I kind of got lost out here…” the man was huge, strong stature. Scars on his face, tattoos peeking out from his collared shirt, trailing up upon his face. You were pretty certain even if you were standing further away from him, you could still pick up the scent of fresh dirt and leaves that permeated from him. Even the faintest scent of sweat, but not in a bad way, in an endearing way if that makes sense. Like the smell of a hard working father coming home to engulf his children in a hug.

“I’m sorry, you are….?” You trailed off as you bent your neck to look at him, eyes slightly squinting to the badge on his shirt.

“Park Ranger Halsin, wildlife and fisheries sent me out here for a demonstration, I use to work for them, but I ended up taking a position at the wildlife refuge at the coast” he explained, already following your steps as you began to lead him back to the entrance. He may have not known, but you were skillfully avoiding a tangent from the old Elminster. He may have been a wise man, but a wise man with many words that lead simply nowhere at times.

“Yes of course, let’s get you set up in our other demonstration room” you spoke out, now quickly following his lead to the glass doors. “And I don’t blame you, it may be a small city, but this place is tucked away, definitely not as grand as the other culture centers” you bashfully said as you followed him up to his truck, tailgate already being lifted down with those strong, calloused hands of his. You could even see the faintest traces of dirt on his hands.

“But still important none the less” he said with a soft smile as he reached into the back, already pulling forward boxes and strangely a pet carrier. You tried to slyly lean a bit to peak at what he could possibly have stored in there.

“Oh this is Philippe” he said, almost with a childlike excitement as he opened the pet carrier. Of all things you would have never expected a raccoon to lazy start reaching up for him. But he excepted the creature with open arms. “I uh…rescued him and he’s been with me ever since. Also a good way of showing off our native species.” those strong arms held the creature tenderly, like a father to his offspring.

“I can’t say I encounter raccoons that are companions.” You were astonished, fingers tenderly giving the animal’s head a little scratch. Though those hands of yours grabbed on of the boxes he pulled forward, Philippe already knowingly hopping upon the other one as Halsin grabbed it.

“They definitely shouldn’t be pets, I know that may sound hypocritical coming from me, but you know how raccoons like to wash their food before they eat it? Well I let him do it back home…and he got ahold of my cellphone too, so not a good mix. I also learned rice doesn’t really help with water logged phone either.” You knew the scornful look he gave the raccoon was all in playfulness, which made a little laugh bubble to your lips. You could already picture it in your head.

“Your dear Philippe sounds like a menace.” You giggled out as you pushed past the doors once more, he following after you through the gush of cold air that blew up to greet you from the comfort of the culture center. Your ears also perked up to the sounds of the lively music coming from one of the demonstration rooms, intertwined with laughter of the children.

“Well, he is still a wild animal at heart I suppose” he chimed, his heavy footsteps following you to the empty demonstration room, his box being set upon the table set up front, already laying out his items.

Different pressed leaves now displayed out, the branches of different native plants. All the works of what’s was very befitting of a park ranger who dealt with the more wild side of the job description. He even had animal traps out as well.

“Alright, I’ll give you a rundown. I’m gonna inform the kids of different plants in the area, which ones are safe and not safe, native and common animals, insects, birds. I will also go over safety, why I have the animal traps.” He explained as he motioned to all the stuff he had set out. “Even though they should always be supervised while out in forested areas, it is still better to be able to recognize traps that farmers could set up for coyotes and bobcats and know not to touch them.” He listed off as he squatted down to once again cradle the raccoon in his arms, the raccoon lazily accepting his fate in the comfortable embrace. Now that the fast paced introduction was over, you could finally admire the man before you.

Yes he was tall and strong, but attractive. His hair whisped about his shoulders. A braid or two peaking out and adorned with thin pieces of colorful thread and an occasional decorative bead. Even having such an intimidating stature, those eyes were kind and gentle. Almost as if you were starring into the eyes of a farmers most trusted companion, his loyal dog. Those scars upon his face couldn’t diminish that softness.

But his shirt….you could see those well earned muscles bulge beneath that gray uniform shirt. Who knew those frumpy uniforms could look so flattering. You didn’t let your fleeting eyes linger for too long as you connected your gaze with his again.

“Well I’ll leave you to finish setting up, but I’m sure the kids will enjoy dear old Philippe, I’ll send the group over after the cooking demonstration, I can try and push back Elminster after everyone has eaten, maybe it will help him be better with his words.” You couldn’t help but give a little huff of a small laugh at your own little joke, even if he did not understand quite yet himself, but he only nodded, that kind smile still upon those lips.

“Me and Philippe will be waiting happily” he said, motioning to the raccoon whose head simply lulled lazily about. Such a pampered and spoiled creature, you could tell he was lovingly cared and doted on.

Elminster was delighted by the news once you quietly reported back to him when the kids had all migrated to the cooking demonstration room. So your little hunch about him wanting to eat first was correct.

“So…I see our fellow park ranger is quite the sight…” Jaheira spoke out quietly to you from the back of the food demonstration room, arms crossed over her chest. “The scars may be a dead giveaway from at least having something to do with the great wild, but tattoos? That would have thrown me off…”

“Oh I know, I honestly didn’t have much time to ponder over that when he first got here…” which was true, wasn’t something you saw everyday, not even from the culture centers in the bigger cities. “But it gives that rough edge, should excite the kids more. They might be slightly disappointed when he actually begins to speak, he is quite soft spoken.”

“Interesting…” was all she managed to say before she stepped forward to chime into the demonstration. You and Jaheira switched off though, she fixed herself and wise Elminster a plate for their little lunch, tucking away back in the break room to enjoy their meal as you beckoned the kids to where Halsin waited.

Their excited eyes upon seeing the raccoon brought a dumb smile to your face as your looked to their excited faces as they all sat down, all sitting at their edge of their seat.

Honestly it was all quite interesting, watching Ranger Halsin expertly explain everything, to simple ways to tell the difference between leaves, to why a plant was named whatever it was named. Even to the animal traps, you couldn’t help but almost have the same wide eyed expression as he would set them off and warn them of their dangerous nature and explaining that it was important to always stay away from them an such.

And of course, can’t forget about Philippe who got all the loving he needed for at least a month. By the end of the day he would probably want his own space even from his master’s arms.

Sadly the kids were beckoned off for lunch, giving the last goodbye to Philippe, but their sadness was quickly forgotten by the food that was now being provided to fill those stomachs. That left you carrying a plate to the break room, where Halsin now sat, Philippe away eating his own meal at his feet. The Ranger gladly took the plate, you now sitting across from him.

“I forget how it is, you know, dealing with children, I miss their excitement and hunger for knowledge…” he spoke up, voice almost rumbling in the small break room.

“Must be a different pace from what you are use to” you chimed up, handing him a napkin, which he also accepted.

“Indeed, but I prefer this, adults can be cruel. Their egos get in the way of everything…” a soft frown pulled at his lips, but it was quickly washed away with a bite of food. “They always venture off, get lost, put themselves in danger, never eager to learn. Children on the other hand, they devour everything that is told to them.”

“Plus this place is also charming, believe it or not, I come from an even more rural place than this” he spoke, a sense of nostalgia dripping off his words “nothing but swamps and forest for miles…”

“Then it makes sense why you are in this profession” you said as you began eating.

“Well I started off in wildlife and fisheries, but it became too much. Hunting season is the worst to deal with. Neighbors get mad about who is hunting where. Poachers…god the poachers. But park ranger life is more befitting, I find it better to teach rather than deal with petty wildlife disputes.“ you knew about those disputes all too well, sometimes you would hear about those petty disputes in the local grocery store between old farmers or just the locals gossiping about someone they knew.

“Well it all is a bit different than what we deal with here. Our other ranger Jaheira has more experience with wildlife. I didn’t get much of a chance to, but I learned to find this outlet satisfying.” You admitted as you pushed your plate aside, hands now removing your hat. Halsin followed your move. It was like you could now finally see his face fully, but it was not a disappointment, not at all.

“We do forget that history is also very important, remember, you are the back bone in the preservation of history and that needs just the same amount of importance as wildlife, even if history may have not been so kind to it.” Halsin had such a way with words, voice speaking them so smoothly, he was seeming to hold a much greater wisdom than Elminster, who you could faintly hear drowning on and on about traditions and all stories. You can already picture those school children comforted by food just fighting the sleep that wanted to take over their senses.

“You are definitely right about that..” your head could only picture the old photos of the town you reside in, how those old photos showed a spread out community with so many fields in between. Now it was only pothole filled roads with shady patch jobs, small town lawyers offices, and an occasional fast food joint.

Humanity at its finest.

Something about the way he looked at you, it made you almost bashful. An intense stare, endearing, and comforting all at once. You could feel a wave of multiple sensations travel up your spine in a shiver. All you could do was fiddle with the napkin that sat in front of you, struggling to find the right words to piece together in your mind.

“Are you free? This weekend?” He finally spoke up “I mean tomorrow, I’m sorry if I come off as strong” he finally managed out, honeyed words now seeming to be nervous. “But, I would like to take you to the refuge I work at, I finally got my boat fixed up.” His fingers were now the ones fiddling. Though you can only smile as you nodded your head.

“Yes I would love to” and with that, a number exchange was made and a timid goodbye was bid as he loaded up the last of his things, tailgate making its way down that old town road.

“A date at a refuge huh?” Jaheira’s voice almost startled you from your trance of staring out the door, the culture center now quiet and still, now almsot seeming empty and lonely from the once lively state it was in.

“Oh hush….” You dumbly muttered out as you began to straighten everything up. There was no mistaking that soft hint of pink upon your cheeks.

The nervousness only set in until that morning when you could only stare at yourself in the standing mirror in your room, poking and prodding at the old clothes you decided on. There was no use in wearing something nice if you were going to spend time on a boat. You were cut short from your worrisome glances in the mirror as you heard an engine rumble again from outside your quaint little home, already rushing to the front door to close and lock it.

Halsin was gorgeous, those early morning rays of sun doing him justice as he stepped down from that old pickup truck that was covered in a layer of first, boat already hooked up to the hitch. Handsome in his own clothes, wrinkle, stain, and all. Hell you didn’t even mind the thin layer of mud that caked the heels of his boots. Though quick good mornings were said as he helped you into the passenger seat, soon leaving a trail of dust behind.

It was peaceful, the morning sun shining down through the windows and soft music playing through the radio, the wind from the rolled down windows whipping your hair about and his. The smell of dirt and forestry strong within the interior of the truck, but that was probably due to the fur leaves and crumbs of dirt that peskily made their stay on the floor, embedded into the mats of his truck. It was nice, even when the dirt scented air turned into the consolidating smell of muggy marsh as the refuge finally rolled into view you appreciated it.

Soon your hair was whipping with the winds that blew by once upon the boat, the hum of the motor steadily humming, the soft solaces of the waters rolling by refreshing on your face and exposed arms. You couldn’t help but reach out and run your fingers upon the wild rice that made their homestead on the steep banks that rolled by. The boat came to steady stop , Halsin leant back next to the motor, glancing down to the murky waters below.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been here…” you spoke out softly as you also looked to the waters below, watching the adolescent fish ripple the surface in their young curiosity, but would quickly dive down deep into those waters if a shadow would move too quickly. “I use to come all the time when I was younger.” You finally looked up and over to Halsin, who was now looking to you with that soft smile.

“Same here, it’s what pushed me in this direction in life.” His own words were also soft, as if not to disturbed the surroundings around you. “Growing up I would wake at the crack of dawn to walk along the waters, to drag my little row boat out. The rangers would always call my parents to let them know where I was, they always took me in to respite myself in their little station, showing me the things they found. Their passion ignited a life changing revelation for me.”

“Agreed, but once again, it lead me down a completely different route, but now that I think about it, I may have been life telling me I was needed else where. A gentle nudge showing me that I’m probably not cut out with dealing with lost folks along riverbeds and trails.” You joked, Halsin’s laughter joining your own.

“Like I said, it’s definitely not fun.” He added with a grin, now moving from his spot next to the motor to be closer to you, hefty body shaking the boat gently, disturbing the waters that had finally calmed down from your arrival. His hand was rummaging in the beat up ice chest that now was situated next to him, handing you a chilled canteen of water “But, it was a better fit, being a wildlife officer made me forget about the simplicity of nature, the calmness of it.”

The calmness of nature, but you couldn’t decide if it was nature itself that was the calm one, or Halsin’s gentle touch to the land doing the calming for it.

The day was spent laughing and sharing stories of nostalgia, of work, of life. You found the muscles in your cheeks hurting from the permanent smile upon your face as the two of you listened to each other intently with care. It was almost a shame when he rolled you back up to your house, that morning glow now replaced with the setting sun, everyone basked in a dark orange hue, but you didn’t mind, that color gave you a since of fulfillment as you took his calloused hand in yours as he helped you down back to solid land.

“Thank you for joining me, I really enjoyed your company” he softly spoke out, that intense stare now locked onto your own, but this time it was bashful, but that shiver of emotions traveled up your spine nonetheless.

The same could be said for him as that calloused hand still gingerly held onto yours.

“I did as well…” you felt dumb as that’s all you could say, that stare almost halting your thoughts, sending your mind into blankness, that hand of his sending a burning sensation through your fingers.

“If you don’t mind maybe we could….do this again?” He spoke out hopefully, those eyebrows furrowed together to match that hopefulness that dropped from his words.

“I would love to, maybe you can even visit here…?”

“Yes, I would love that….”

[visualtaehyun]

I realize I'm like the only one on this site who cares about Nunew's music career lol but he's been sharing posts from F.HERO (aka Golf) of them clearly working on something together with TIMETHAI 👀

caption by F.HERO: "Like me and @/timethai are pregnant and everyone came to congratulate us"

left to right: singer Txrbo, songwriter/music producer Amp Achariya, 🐱, rapper F.HERO, singer TIMETHAI, music producer Luiz

The song used in the story btw: บักคนซั่ว cover by TIMETHAI)

Apart from a reel of New, F.HERO, and TIMETHAI doing a meme version of 'Hit Me Up', there's also this funny clip:

(translations below cause i'm too lazy to typeset and sub lol)

🕶 Today I'm here with Nong Nunew who's a very good kid. I respect him a lot, his behavior is pristine. He would never lie. Here, I'll demonstrate: Nunew, say "P'Golf is a good person" ... "phi, phi, P'Golf-"

🐱 "phi"

🕶 "P'Golf"

🐱 "P'Golf"

🕶 "is, is, is a good person"

🐱 "is... a person-"

🕶 'kay, enough. He doesn't lie, the kid doesn't lie, he's a very good kid. Say "P'Tal (his secretary) isn't a womanizer"

🐱 "P'Tal... is a womanizer"

📷 AH cut the camera ×5

[themonotonysyndrome]

Hey Mono! I hope you're doing well. I just came with another small headcanon thing that I remember I had when Part 2 of Castin's story came out and I thought I'd share it with you :))

Remember when Castin said that he was doing that campaign thing where he was training kids or teens to fight and to prep them to be in the army or something? I thought that that was maybe one of the things that helped the Baroness to fall for Castin.

She was just passing by the training grounds maybe to meet up with someone for lunch or for work and she happened to see her husband with a bunch of teenage kids. For a second she forgot all about the campaign when she saw the way he interacted with them but she remembered what Castin mentioned before when she saw the armour they all wore.

At this point in time, she hasn't really seen Castin fight much so she secretly enjoyed the demonstrations he gave to the kids. But what she enjoyed even more was the way Castin came up behind the kids and gently guided them to do what he demonstrated properly and the way he encouraged them to try even if it was difficult. She enjoyed the way he praised them or gave them a high five when they did it successfully.

She unconsciously had a smile on her face as she watched the scene before her but was surprised when she realised that Castin saw her and caught her staring. She kept smiling and gave him a small nod before quickly walking away to where she needed to be.

She noticed that her heart beat a little faster than usual and her palms were a bit sweaty. No, she wasn't falling for him. She was simply walking too fast and it was hot out. She definitely wasn't starting to fall for him. Right..?

I love the thought that Castin is good at interacting with teens or older kids and the idea that the Baroness was in denial at first about liking Castin idk. That would probably make a good 5 + 1 ao3 fic. "Five times the Baroness denied her love for Castin and the one time she didn't" lmao.

I think I've gone on long enough and it's really late where I am so I should probably go sleep soon... Probably. Anywhom, have a good timezone and until next time M'lady.

- 🌚

Purple Moon!Anon! You came with a feast and I, but your humble and grateful guest!

I'm feeling a lot better than yesterday so thank you for your good wishes.

I think it's brilliant that you let the Baroness observe the different sides of Castin. That way, it'll give her something to mentally chew on and reflect on her true feelings for him! After all, other than Rhett's words and Castin's behaviour during their first meeting and right up to their wedding day, the Baroness doesn't have much to go with it. It's unfortunate the bad stuff outweighs the good.

Also! Also! Castin as A Father To His Men goes well with the brotherhood bond the Intacian warriors have for one another! He's firm with the younger recruits, but praises and compliments come freely from his mouth. He doesn't lord his ranks over the soldiers, and once training is over, he'll sit down with you and explain what you did well today, what went wrong and how you can improve further.

That's how Castin treat those under him, and the Baroness can't help but wonder why he did he initially humiliated her? Oh well. Only Castin knows why.

But the moment she starts falling for him, she's oblivious to it. Her heart beating faster? Palms sweaty a bit? Eyes always dart to the side when Castin flashes a grin to her? Yeah, someone please save this woman 😆

I think the 5 + 1 fic format about her coming to terms with her budding affection for her warrior husband is perfect! Castin probably already notice her change of heart but he will be patient until the Baroness come to terms with it herself.

I always enjoy discussing headcanons with you, Purple Moon!Anon! Have a good rest, OK?

[nataliesnews]

Peisach  12/4/2023

Subject: I hate the heat and the Peisach holiday

To:

To start off my letter on a spirited note, I was out at supper the other night when my hosts pulled out this bottle of wine....agterPaaarl no less.

 After the blessed winter today is a scorcher. I am so stupid. I was lulled into complacency by the winter. I decided to go to the pool after not being there for months. I now just have tickets and not a subscription. First of all it was so hot and when I went to the hotel I realised the hour and that now in Peisach one should only go first thing in the morning. There were innumerable buses parked outside and I had a view of the pool filled with screaming kids. So I decided in spite of the heat to take the light train and it was packed with all the ultras with their prams and children and no one got up for me. That is the last time I move out of Kiryat Hayovel until after this ghastly holiday ends. But  then there is still the summer to cope with. If I have to go into town I do it as early as possible and if I have to make doctor's appointments I also made for an early hours

--

This is a very clever sign....it shows Netanyahu's son. Impossible to understand the power his wife and son have over him making state decisions. But it is a fact. It has to be understood as it says that the damage Bibi did in five minutes, (the birth of Yaier)....should make us realise what damage he can do in another four years. The Likud is evidently losing power but what worries me is where all these voters of the Likud are going now.... in the direction of Ben Gvir?

At first I was glad that so many of the supporters of Netanyahu and the religious were coming to the demonstrations in Jerusalem on Saturday nights. But this Saturday evening I was not happy at the takeover that they are making. There was a long prayer at the beginning which there has never been before. Afterwards a minute's silence for the two girls that were killed. I watched their funeral yesterday and it was heartbreaking and the mother is still fighting for her life but as one woman courageously cried out...what about all the Palestinians  who have been killed? There are now two groups at the demonstration.....probably also so in Tel Aviv...but here in Jerusalem it is very much felt....the group against the government and the laws and the group which is also against the occupation.

I think that the following reports shows how easily what would otherwise be treated as a car accident.

Initial autopsy of alleged Tel Aviv attacker said to point to terror motive

Preliminary findings strengthen suspicions car-ramming by Yousef Abu Jaber, 45, on Tel Aviv promenade Friday was a terror attack, says senior police official

https://www.timesofisrael.com/initial-autopsy-of-alleged-tel-aviv-attacker-said-to-point-to-terror-motive/

Read the following and see how much is conjecture before the facts. No definite decision on his medical condition. The man worked as a janitor and was well liked and invited people to his home. He had no previous offences. It was immediately claimed that he had shot the tourist. This was then denied. Then we heard he had a rifle with him. It turned out it was a toy pistol. How many of you  who have children have such toys in the car? Has the condition of the car been checked for some problem. And the worst is that the man was shot while lying on the floor and no danger to the soldiers. How often this is happening now. And I again say, if this report was about a Jew how differently it would be treated. And the police refuse to show the video of the affair.

I went with a friend to the kiosk at Sataf to have a coffee. The weather came up and became so windy that chairs and tables were blown all over the place. So we left and found a lane which neither of us knew…. I write this so that you know that not all of my life is demonstrations.

Wednesday.    Heartbreaking to see the mother of the two girls has also died and as the father says, they are now a family of four. I admired him for not ranting and raving. But each time I see these scenes I am reminded of Palestinians and activists who are attacked and killed  and are shown no justice. I just read Arik Ascherman's account of how he was attacked by settlers on Peisach when he was out with the shepherds and his phone stolen and his car vandalized and the reactions of the police. And the attacks on Christians which are becoming more and more frequent.

Thank goodness tomorrow life goes back to normal of what we now call normal here. We still have Ramadan to get through though this Friday the police seem to have had rather a shock after their previous violence in the mosque which went all over the world.

--

ard

[wanderinginksplot]

Riye (A Favor) - Alpha-17/f!Reader fic

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Third installment of my Alpha-17/fem!reader fic!

Word-Count: 3,100

Warnings: aggressive flirtation, Alpha is rude.

---

You carefully straightened the neckline of your shirt, eyes on the refresher mirror. It might be silly, but today marked a full month since you had come to Kamino, and you wanted to look your best.

Your outfit had survived the morning, despite a meeting with several Kaminoans who wanted updates on your progress. You had been able to deliver good news - that you were right on schedule - but a sense of doubt overshadowed any triumph you might have felt. The first deadline had been met, but the next one promised to step up the workload, and you were already feeling overwhelmed at the idea.

Still, you were determined to push the negativity out of your mind. You would figure out a better schedule to complete the work later. Today was a celebration.

The bad thing about taking more care with your appearance was that it attracted more attention than usual from the cadets. You had politely turned away two different groups of young men by the time Alpha was due to arrive in the cafeteria. Another cadet - alone, this time - was doing his best to keep from being dismissed as well.

"Was it raining when you came in, ma’am?" he asked, leaning over you. "I have flight drills after this and it gets even more dangerous in the rain."

You did your best not to smile at the obvious way he was hinting about being a pilot. "You know, I think it was raining the last time I was near a window," you told him, voice grave.

"Then I'm going to need some luck to survive," he said dramatically, flashing you a smile he clearly hoped would be charming. "I've heard a kiss from a beautiful woman is a good start. What do you think? It might help me survive the afternoon."

"I wouldn't count on it," a dark voice warned.

The cadet stood as straight as possible as Alpha approached. The captain brushed your new pilot friend aside with a twist of his armored shoulders and sat down. He proceeded to start eating, ignoring the cadet completely.

Any other cadet would have backed away, thankful that Alpha hadn't decided to throw them directly into the oceans of Kamino, but this one was more determined than most.

He winked at you from behind Alpha's head. "By the way, my name is-"

"She doesn't want to know your name," Alpha told him. "Get out of here before I decide that I want to know it."

"Very flattering, Captain," the cadet said cheekily. "But Jango's face isn't the one I want to wake up to, yeah?"

Alpha swallowed his mouthful of food and deliberately set his fork aside, standing slowly from the table. He drew up to his full height before turning around. He was taller than the cadet, forcing the younger man to look up.

"Now I'm extremely interested," Alpha said slowly, his slow and methodical voice dripping with menace. "What's your designation?"

Behind him, you winced. You hated how glaringly obvious it was that the Kaminoans considered these men products. Also, this cadet might die in front of you and that would almost certainly ruin your ability to eat in the cafeteria anymore.

"CT-7115," the cadet said with a grin.

"Ah, part of Zackra Trem's group." Alpha raised his comlink. "Trem."

"Alpha," a female voice returned immediately.

"I've got one of your pilot cadets here in the cafeteria. 7115."

"Broadside," Trem said, clearly recognizing the number. "He's one of my best, Alpha. Don't break him too badly."

"No promises," Alpha replied, turning slightly back toward Broadside. Since you were seated directly behind Alpha, you couldn't see his expression yourself, but it was enough to make Broadside's grin slip for the first time.

"I'll make you a deal," Trem offered. "I'll give him hell here and then send him back to you tonight. I'm sure he could help you demonstrate something unpleasant to your ARCs."

Alpha considered that for a long moment while Broadside shifted uncomfortably. Eventually, he conceded, "That works."

Trem laughed. "Do I even wanna know what he did to you?"

"Harassed an uninterested female."

The laughter emanating from the comlink's speakers cut off abruptly. "In that case, I think we should coordinate punishments. I'll be in touch, Captain."

The transmission cut off suddenly and Alpha looked at Broadside once more. "You had best get to your training, son."

Broadside, looking suddenly concerned, nodded and hurried away. “What was that?” you asked quietly when Alpha had sat down across from you once more.

“I told his superior officer about his behavior.”

“What more than that?” you pressed.

Alpha grinned suddenly, and it was half a snarl. “It just so happens that his superior officer is Zackra Trem. It’s not my story to tell, but she’s got more reason than most to hate that kind of osik behavior.”

You could very well guess the rest of that story. Your heart twisted for Trem, though you had never met her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nice, but she wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment,” Alpha told you, not unkindly. “Feel sorry for your little pilot. She’s a Weequay who ran with Mandalorians for the past few decades. Whatever she makes him do, it won’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled at that, trying not to actually feel sorry for Broadside. In the time you had been hanging around Alpha, most of the cadets had eased up a bit on flirting, but every now and then, someone crossed the line.

Alpha picked his fork up again and shot you an intense look. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Though your immediate instinct was to be embarrassed about being overdressed, even mildly, you rolled your eyes at him. “Anything looks like too much when everyone else wears uniforms all of the time. Remember that day I wore a necklace?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Alpha said, snorting. “A necklace. What are you, a Senator?”

“Your ideas of fancy clothing are extremely skewed, I hope you know that,” you told him, adjusting your collar again.

“Hazards of the job,” Alpha replied with a casual shrug as he returned his focus to his food. “Looks okay, though.”

You paused, staring openly at him. Had Alpha just complimented you? Surely not… The universe wouldn’t survive such unexpected behavior, not without signs that space was collapsing in on itself.

Alpha noticed you watching him and lifted an eyebrow in question while he chewed. You just shook your head and applied yourself to your own lunch, avoiding his curious eyes. Explaining your thought process there would be an intensive effort, especially if your goal was to keep him from being uncomfortable.

Fortunately, avoiding Alpha’s eyes let you notice the approaching cadet sooner than your companion did, and you had time to brace yourself before the young man - even younger than you were used to seeing - opened his mouth.

“Excuse me-”

“Kriff,” Alpha said loudly, dark brows crashing down over his eyes. “Go away, kid. I’ve already ruined one cadet’s day and I have no problem adding to the list. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“N-no, sir, of course not,” the cadet told him, nodding respectfully at you as he went on. “I wanted to talk to you. Is it true you served with General Kenobi?”

"What?" Alpha asked, sounding uncertain for the first time since you had met him. You quirked your brows, unsure of whether to be amused or concerned.

"General Kenobi," the cadet repeated. "And General Skywalker, too! I heard you went on a mission with both of them. What was it like?"

"Look, kid, I don't have time to answer all your questions about Jedi-"

"That's fine!" the cadet told him. "I already know everything there is to know about the Jedi. I want to know more about your experience, specifically."

The muscles in Alpha's jaw flexed and you quickly interrupted. "What's your name?"

"Dogma, ma'am," the cadet told you, making an apologetic face. "I know names are against regulations, but my batchers won't stop calling me that. My designation is CT-4287."

“Nice to meet you, Dogma,” you said politely.

Dogma's cheeks darkened and he gave a tight nod. "You too, ma'am."

"Stop flirting with the poor boy," Alpha chided and you gaped at the captain. So much for trying to help him.

"Dogma, I'm sure Captain Alpha would love to answer any question you have," you told the young cadet, grinning triumphantly at Alpha.

"Wait," Alpha ordered, catching at your wrist before you could stand up. His hand was ridiculously huge and you found yourself shackled by his gentle grip. "You haven't finished eating."

You grinned wider at him, slipping your wrist out from between his fingers. "I'll take it with me. Have fun, you two!"

Dogma gave a half-hearted wave while Alpha glared.

---

The rest of the afternoon was spent locked away in your office, working on the second major project you had to complete. Your concerns about the deadline were unfortunately proving correct. The icy grip of stress and fear were squeezing your heart, and you were honestly relieved when someone knocked on the door of your office.

“One moment!” you called to the unseen visitor, but they didn’t seem to hear you. Instead, they continued to pound on the door until you opened it. You were unsurprised to see Alpha on the other side, glowering down at you.

“You’re mean for a nat-born,” he grumbled, brushing you aside as he pushed into the office.

After letting the door slide closed once more, you followed him over to your desk and plopped down in your chair. Rather than sit in one of the chairs opposite you, Alpha leaned his hip against the side of your desk, much closer than you were comfortable with.

In a show of belligerence, you crossed your arms and lifted your chin as you replied, “Serves you right for being rude about my outfit.”

“I didn’t say anything bad about your clothes!” Alpha denied, befuddled.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t say anything nice about them, either,” you argued childishly, conveniently forgetting his half-compliment at lunch.

Alpha frowned. “You want me to… talk about clothing with you?”

Well. Put that way, it did sound a little silly. Of all of the things you were sure Alpha did well, deep discussions about fashion might be beyond him. Honestly, they might be beyond you, too. You sighed. “No, I don’t want you to talk about clothing with me, but I was trying to look nice today. I put a lot of effort into this.”

“I don’t understand why,” Alpha said. “You look… fine… every other day.”

“Fine,” you repeated dryly. “Thanks, I was going for fine.”

“I don’t understand what I did wrong.” You were able to hear the growing frustration in his voice. “What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe don’t act like I’m wearing a ballgown to work if I show up wearing a necklace!”

“What is a ballgown?”

You stared at Alpha, the simple question making your brain screech to a halt. It was like a chasm had opened between you, and it made you reconsider a few things. Since you had arrived on Kamino, you had treated the clone troopers as if they were people you might meet out in the galaxy, but that wasn’t exactly true. You still believed that they were people - of course you did - but you were only just coming to realize how different they were from anyone you had ever met. While the troopers shared their own experiences on Kamino and had been trained to be perfect soldiers by the time they shipped out, they were startlingly young by the standards of the rest of the galaxy.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” You fiddled with one of the many datapads littering your desk rather than meet Alpha’s intense gaze. “I am sorry for siccing Dogma on you, though.”

“You should be,” he growled. “He asked ten questions before I could shake him off. Ten!”

“Wow, that’s what? Five days worth of questions?” you teased.

“Five days for you,” Alpha told you seriously. “For anyone else, that’s more than I would ever answer.”

You were unreasonably touched by the reminder that Alpha let you learn things about him that no one else would ever know. Moved by a sudden surge of warmth for the ARC captain, you repeated your prior sentiment, but more fervently. “In that case, I honestly apologize for unleashing Dogma. If there’s anything I can do to make him back off, please let me know.”

Alpha’s stare was level and unwavering. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” you agreed immediately, not understanding what a wildly stupid idea that was. That was fine - you would learn… and it didn’t take long.

That night at dinner, Alpha came in and sat across from you, but instead of starting the meal in silence, he leaned across the table slightly to get your attention. Lowly, he asked, “Are you still willing to help me with Dogma?”

“Yes,” you agreed simply. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah. Flirt with me.”

You fought not to react visibly to that. Carefully keeping your face blank and your voice flat, you replied, “What.”

He leaned even closer, eyes lit with excitement. “I’ve been threatening and trying to alienate Dogma all day, but the only time he was uncomfortable was when you flirted with him.”

“I didn’t flirt with him!” you reminded him. “I just said it was nice to meet him.”

“Fine,” Alpha conceded. “We’ll just have to do better than that if we’re going to convince him to leave me alone.”

Abruptly feeling like this was the worst idea anyone had ever had, you tried to speak in your own defense. “Alpha, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

“You said you would help me,” he reminded firmly. “He’ll be here in a minute. I need your answer.”

Your heart was pounding, one of many warnings that this was a bad idea, but you nodded anyway. Alpha smiled - he actually smiled - and the expression looked menacing on his face. “Good.”

In a moment, he had circled the table to sit beside you, his huge frame making you feel ridiculously tiny in comparison. He wasn't wearing any armor at all now, and you could feel the heat of his skin through what little space there was between you.

You tried not to obviously tense as he spoke next to your ear. "There he is, get ready."

Impossibly, Alpha managed to get closer to you, tugging behind your knee slightly so that you were angled toward him. When he had finished posing you, Alpha’s large hand lifted to cradle your face. His fingers brushed over your cheekbone before trailing down to your jaw.

"My little neverd," he murmured to you, face filled with affection.

You didn't have to feign embarrassment at the warmth in his tone matched with the intense eye contact he was giving you. When you replied, you tried not to sound squeaky but only managed to sound shaky instead. "You know Mando'a is my weakness."

He laughed, a low chuckle that sent delicious chills running over your skin. “Why do you think I use it?”

“Alpha…” you chided, managing to sound mildly flirtatious.

“Come on, little one,” he urged you, voice velvet in a way you hadn’t known it could be. “Let’s go back to your- Ah, one moment, neverd. Dogma, sit down.”

You looked over to see Dogma standing at the other side of the table. You had never even noticed, your entire focus narrowed down to Alpha. Dogma looked as embarrassed as you felt. While you were focused on Dogma, Alpha’s arm snaked around you, pressing against your waist to pull you flush against his side. Your face flamed and Dogma glanced away.

“Sir, I- I’m sorry, I forgot I’m on duty tonight,” Dogma muttered, speaking so quickly it was difficult to understand him.

“Sorry to hear that, cadet,” Alpha replied gravely, flexing his fingers against your side. It made you push a little closer to him in reflex, the tip of your nose brushing the space under his jaw as you tried to look up at him. Alpha shivered, and you weren’t sure how much of the motion was acting. “Maybe later.”

Dogma gave an awkward nod and hurried off.

Alpha started laughing even before he let you go, his muscular chest shaking against your shoulder. After a moment that felt like it had stretched an hour, he pulled his arm back and slid away a bit. You immediately felt the loss of his closeness and suddenly you were horribly uncertain of what expression you were wearing. Just in case it said more than you wanted it to, you looked back at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“I feel bad,” you admitted.

"Don't," Alpha advised, looking toward the door as well. “He’ll be fine. He’s a good soldier, just a little…”

He trailed off, apparently content to let his thought stay incomplete. You glanced over to him with an eyebrow raised, but his eyes were fixed on the door. “You can see every access point in the room from here.”

“That is why I chose this spot,” you agreed.

“Switch with me tomorrow.”

“Not a chance,” you refused. “This is my spot.”

“Then I hope you like sitting next to me,” Alpha told you. Surprised, you laughed up at him and he met your eyes. “You know, I’ve never seen anyone blush on cue.”

“Hidden talent,” you explained vaguely. Alpha didn’t seem convinced, so you changed the subject. “What does neverd mean?”

“Civilian.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “Civilian? That’s what you used as a term of endearment?”

Alpha blinked blankly at you. “What’s wrong with it? You are a civilian.”

“Yes, but,” you thought over it for a second, “-it’s not very romantic. Usually, people say things like ‘dear’ or ‘sweetheart’.”

“How should I have known that?” Alpha asked.

It was the ballgown situation all over again, and more than you were willing to tackle that day. “Well, some warning before you want me to go undercover would be helpful.”

Alpha snorted. “How much warning do you need?”

You pretended to consider that for a moment. “Two business days, minimum.”

He frowned fiercely. “If you get two full days of warning, I expect more. I need you to show up in a disguise with three different accents ready.”

“Harsh terms,” you told him with a smile. “With those negotiation skills, you’d make a great senator."

Alpha gave you the darkest scowl you had ever seen him muster. “Watch it, neverd.”

Idly, you wondered if Alpha would protect you from himself, but the amused glimmer in his dark eyes told you it would be unnecessary.

---

A/N - Pretty sure Broadside is wildly OOC, my bad. Also, sorry for the weird image for this chapter. I didn't really want the text bubbles in there, but I needed to keep Alpha's sassy hip lean.

Taglist - @imabeautifulbutterfly @cagrame @mysticalturtleenthusiast @marvel-starwars-nerd @lackofhonor

[infernal-fire]

TAU (1/2)

Summary: Steve Rogers traps you inside his mansion. Your only means of escape? The naïve A.I., Bucky, that is designed to kill you if you ever step out of line. 

Pairings: Dark!CEO!Steve x reader, A.I!Bucky x reader, Bucky x reader

This is part of a series of works (not interconnected). I highly suggest you read the description of the series master list to better understand the premise of this story. 

Warnings: swearing, kidnapping, mention of sedative, technical Lima syndrome, psychological abuse, violence, blood, character deaths, injuries, mention of depression, suicide & poverty

The chair was on the brink of collapsing, yet Martha folded her arms and leaned back into it anyway. You internally grimaced, waiting for her to fall flat on her ass or give you the bad news. It had to be bad news. You had done this enough times to know that she periodically bounced her right leg only when there was bad news. These days, that was often. 

You huffed once, loud enough for her to hear, hoping to hint that you were hanging by the threads of your patience. She took the hint, finally throwing open the drawer in front of you with excessive force. Pens rolled and a notebook slid towards her amid the force. Again, another piece of furniture that was ready to give in. For someone as stingy as her, you aren’t surprised that it hasn’t been replaced - just wondering why she’s treating it like it won’t disintegrate any second now. 

Martha’s plump fingers slapped a couple of bills onto the table, her seedy eyes challenging you to pluck them from under her hand. You wrestled the bills out of from under her palm and diligently counted them, only to shake your head defeatedly. 

“That’s it?” you snarled.

“Steal better shit next time,” she replied, shrugging. 

You slowly sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, refusing to open your eyes and face her.

“I really need the money.” 

When you open your eyes again, it’s because you hear the roll of her weathered chair. Now standing full height, the middle-aged woman shook her head softly, a hint of a smirk playing out on her lips. 

“Like I said; steal better shit.” She turned to leave before facing you again. “You could always come and work with our girls.”

She glanced through the door that was cracked open, eyes resting on the table situated in the corner of the adjacent room. Around it, a group of girls set down cards while pushing poker chips around. 

“Sell my body? I’d rather die,” you scoffed. 

“Suit yourself. Now, get out.”

“Was planning to.” You flipped her the bird, knowing that she was watching you leave.

“Real classy,” she called after you. “You gotta come back here for your next week’s dinner, you whore!”

“That’s all you,” you smiled at her before slamming the door closed on your way out. Oh, the satisfaction of pissing someone off; unparalleled. 

Placing your measly wage into a makeshift purse, you made your way back home. You hugged your frame tightly, keeping your head down and pacing through the dilapidated neighbourhood. 

Once upon a time, when you were new to the shadier areas of town, you affirmed to yourself every day that this situation was temporary. The hope for a better job, better apartment and better tomorrow kept you going for a long time. Deep down though, you knew it wasn’t temporary, and now you were being proven right every day. What was keeping you going these days? Multiple times, you delayed the contemplation of that question, knowing that if you thought about it… well, it’s better to not go there. 

You were careful to double-check the lock on your door and windows when you stepped into the cramped shower. Today, you thanked God for hot water, even though you were sure he didn’t exist. Mind empty like a brand new chalkboard, you shuffled around your one-room housing and put together something edible to appease the churning stomach.

Your ear perked up at what sounded like the creaking of the fourth floorboard from your bed. You locked the door. You were sure of it. 

Still, you peeked over the short dividing wall that hid the view of your bed from the kitchen. Nothing. You shook your head at your paranoia and turned back to get to the less-than-appetizing meal waiting for you. 

Steve jammed the needle into your neck, expecting you to fall back into his arms. Instead, your forehead hits the edge of your counter and you slump onto the floor. Your eyes shutting down and head throbbing, you reach out to feel your attacker and touch Steve with saucy fingers. He groans in annoyance as he picks up your whimpering form. 

Thump, thump, thump.

The nightclubs you frequent were full of snobby, rich kids who didn’t know the value of wealth. You stole to survive. They could survive without their wristwatch for one night. 

Thump, thump, thump.

Music turned the speakers inside out, deafening those closest to it, but the youth are resilient to damage in any form. For you, though, it was too loud; too much. It wasn’t uncommon of you to walk away from the scene with a pounding head. 

Thump, thump, thump.

The inside of your head resembled the thumping of club speakers. Jaw slack and eyes foggy, you tried to rub your temples. But your arms wouldn’t move. 

Sitting up the best you could, you looked down at your hands to see them bound by zip ties, sitting on your lap. It was joke-worthy how your captor thought they could bind you with zip ties, of all things. He would have to do better than this. 

You tugged on the end of the tie using teeth and tightened it some more before huddling your knees up to your chest. Bringing your hands down as hard as you can against your kneecap, you awaited the snapping sound of the zip tie. Nothing came. You look at your hands again, realizing that they were still bound.

“Don’t do that,” a voice piped up from the dark corner of the room. Startled, you look to the source of the voice but no light fell in that direction. For the first time, you took in your surroundings: half of the room was divided by a set of bars. The other side had large machinery with wires running towards the jail section. As you trailed your eyes across the wires, you noticed a closed door. 

At least you knew it was possible to escape now. 

Quickly turning to the place the voice came from, you scooted backwards some more and anticipated the arrival of your captor. 

A woman crawled forward slowly with bounded legs and arms like yours. 

Seeing that it was just another prisoner, you tightened the strap of your zip tie again and tried breaking it one more time. It snapped. Rubbing your wrists where they were bound, you got straight to undoing the bind on your legs. Beside you, the girl moved closer and repeatedly begged you not to free yourself. 

“Shut up, Brit,” you mumbled, referring to her accent.

The bind on your legs gave away and you stood up and stretched. Tentatively stalking around the cell, you noticed the toilet and sink. Why would he have those amenities in here if you were tied up anyway? When you went to touch the bars separating the room, the girl cried out again. 

“Stop! Don’t!” 

You rolled your eyes and touched it anyway. Electricity surged through you and you yelped, pulling back immediately. 

“Could’ve told me it was an electric gate,” you snapped. 

“Don’t try to escape.” 

You looked at her incredulously. “And sit here like ducks, waiting for him to kill us?”

“Someone will find us!” she pleaded. 

“Look at me! Look at you! No one is looking for us. The police won’t blink twice if people like us are gone. And he knows that.” You eyed the door that was inside your cell and looked to the other one outside the bars. 

“Do you want me to remove your binds or not?”

The girl sheepishly looked down before sticking her arms out for you. 

“My name is Peggy,” she offered as she stood up. She held your arm for support when blood rushed to her head. You shot her a withering look in response and she took her hand off. 

“I don’t think we can leave. He can probably hurt us with these implants.” Peggy pulled her hair to one side and showed you the nape of her neck. A glowing red triangle shone from under her skin. 

Your eyes widened, immediately reached for the back of your head. You felt around and touched the area that stung a little when you touched it. You compulsively hissed, realizing that your implant was fresh and the skin around it had not healed yet. 

“Has he done anything to you using the implant?” you held and shook Peggy’s shoulders while you questioned. 

“No, no, but he said it collects brain data and that it was connected to my spinal column, so I shouldn’t try anything.”

“He spoke to you?”

“Once. It’s Steve Rogers, the inventor guy on the cover of all the Forbes magazines.”

“Brain data,” you silently repeated as you look to the other side of the cell again. 

“I have an idea. Rip your clothes like this,” you demonstrated.

Using the rags ripped off from both of your prisoner uniforms, the pair of you created a long rope-like contraption with a loop on the end. You stuck your hand through the gaps in the cell and tried to fling the loop to a nook in the machinery. Failing hurt, your arm accidentally brushing against the metal once or twice before the loop finally caught onto a crevice. 

“That’s the wrong part,” your fellow inmate breathed.

“Yeah, but that’ll work too.” You pulled as hard as you could and a section of the machine broke off, sparks flying from the source. It crackled and caught on fire. 

Peggy was pulling the cell door open, grunting as she tried her best. It gave way and you both looked at each other briefly before dashing out of the room. The jail room went up in flames behind you. Peggy looked over her shoulder, but you yanked her arm, signalling her to keep running. 

You flew up stairs and through doors, finally making your way into a clearing. Peggy rushed to what seemed to be the entrance door and frantically banged on it. 

“HELP!”

“That’s not gonna work!” you rushed to the door and inspected the lock. On the right side, there was a screen that displayed a handprint. 

Do not try to escape. Only Steven can leave the premises. 

“What?” you whispered. The new voice was coming from all around you, seemingly through fixtures in the ceiling and walls, but you couldn’t be sure. The situation was tense and you were scared the whole house was going to burn down.

Before you could catch her, Peggy planted her hand on the screen which scanned and turned red. Suddenly, all the lights emanated red, accompanying a booming alarm that blared through the house. 

In the distance, what you assumed was a statuesque décor piece, came to life. It reminded you of the spiders from the Maze Runner. A motorized killing machine. It stalked towards Peggy and you with pincers appearing from its side. 

Screaming, Peggy ran. So did you, but you weren’t sure if you were screaming. You couldn’t hear through the noise your friend was making on top of the deafening alarm. 

The spider machine stuck out its knife-like hands, trying to stab you. As you ran into another room, you frantically searched for an exit. Right now, your priority was to survive this thing.

You pulled open a cupboard in what appeared to be the study and instructed Peggy to climb in. The monster was coming. There wasn’t much time to hide. 

You shut the closet door and hid behind a lounging chair in the corner. 

The machine came in and scanned the room, looking for your heat signatures. It could see Peggy.

The cupboard door flung open and Peggy shrieked, crawling out of it in attempts to move out of the line of attack. She took 4 steps on her knees and looked straight into your eyes. 

“HELP ME-”

You screamed when she was dragged back towards the machine. You couldn’t save her anymore. You mobilized and ran back to the living room area, not even turning back to address blood that splattered across your back. It wasn’t in your best interest to find out how she was killed. 

“Aries!”

Frozen in fear, you look to your right to see the entrance door open. There stood your captor, staring at the machine that was now hovering over you. 

“Stop,” he muttered and set down his briefcase. 

Aries retracted its pincers, making its way back to the little pedestal it was perched on before. It powered down just as the CEO stepped into the house and glared at you.

For a split second, the doors were open, and you considered tackling past him. 

“Don’t even think about it.”

You collapsed onto the floor where you were already lying down. Getting out was going to be a lot harder than you anticipated. 

Your hands were bound again, but this time, behind you. You were seated on a pedestal like the one Aries was on, except this one had an ugly glass décor piece that extended to the ceiling. You tugged on the bonds, hoping for some leeway, but Rogers had learned his lesson. 

You shook your head side to side, trying to get pieces of hair and blood off your face. Eventually, you had to give up, slumping into the post your arms were tied to. 

“You cost me 7 million dollars worth of tech,” Steve’s voice sounded from another room. 

“If you let me go, I swear on my life I won’t tell anyone. They won’t believe me anyway.” 

He appeared in front of you and placed both hands on either side of your thighs. 

“Things will work out for you, if you just… shut up.” 

You exhaled and turned your face to the right, hoping he’d stop invading your personal space. 

“Just… please, untie me.”

He stood back and considered your request before rounding the side of the pedestal and untying you. 

“Bucky?”

Yes, Steve.

“Activate Aries if she moves a single inch from her spot.” He eyed you at the end of his command and sauntered away to god-knows-where. 

You hoped it wouldn’t be pushing your luck to stand up and stretch, so you did. You mentally considered the various stretches you did as a child, during gymnastics. It had been years since you recalled those, so you did them to the best of your ability. It’s funny how life works. One day you were among a row of girls, learning how to do a cartwheel and before you know it, you’re in a psycho’s mansion as a lab experiment. 

About 30 feet away from this pedestal was Aries.  

Cautiously, you took a few steps away from your place. No reaction from Aries. That meant ‘Bucky’ and Aries weren’t the same thing. You could also deduce from Steve’s command, Bucky was capable of conversing.

Do not take another step forward, Subject 10. I have been told to inflict pain if you move from your position.

You took another step anyway, wondering how much you could test the limits of this A.I. 

Do not take another step forward, Subject 10. I have been told to inflict pain if you move from your position. 

You considered making a run for it but reconsidered. Aries would activate in less than 5 seconds and Steve was still in the house somewhere. You needed to play this better. Besides, you didn’t even have an exit point. 

You went back to your pedestal and sat down, drawing patterns on the ground with your feet. It would help to know the time or date. A part of you wondered if anyone was looking for you, but you yourself had answered that question long ago. No one looks for people like you or me. 

It could’ve been hours or minutes, but finally, Steve called you into a different room. You observed your environment as you stalked towards the kitchen area where the inventor was seated. 

“Sit,” he motioned at the chair that was on the other end of the table. 

As soon as you sat, tiny robots flew to your seat and placed food in front of you. It was some sort of soup with a side of bread, the only utensil he gave you being a spoon. Smart bastard. 

You wanted to hold off on the food; you really did. But you didn’t even get to eat the sandwich that you were putting together before the kidnapping. So you began devouring the meal, ignoring his pointed stare at your lack of table manners. It was only when you were halfway through the meal did you realize that the food may be drugged. Too late now.

“You killed my only other test subject and rendered her data useless.”

“I didn’t kill her.”

Steve dropped his steak knife and fork, shooting daggers into your eyes.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he began. Clasping his hands together, he leaned forward, supporting his weight on his elbows. You could tell by the way he talked that he was used to getting what he wanted. He relished in it.

“Every day, for the next two weeks, I’m going to leave for work. And every day, you’re going to complete the puzzles and tasks that Bucky tells you to do.”

“And if I don’t?”

“It won’t take me more than 10 minutes to kill you, clean up the mess and dispose of your body.”

“If you could kill me, you probably would’ve. I know you considered it,” you remarked, leaning back into your chair and folding your arms.

“Now, why would I waste a perfectly good test subject?” It was his turn to mimic your body language. 

“If you want me to do what you need me to do, I need three things,” you announced. 

“It’s funny how you think you have any leverage in this situation.”

You kept your face stoic, trying to prove that you were serious about the negotiations. If he didn’t allow you these requests, you would never escape. 

“Okay, go on,” he said, clearly amused. 

“I need clothes. Regular clothes, not prisoner uniforms. I need to shower. And I need proper food, like what you’re eating.”

“That’s quite the list.” he laughed. Abruptly, his features turned serious. “I hope you know that you don’t hold any cards against me right now, and if I allow any of those things, it’s out of the kindness of my heart.”

It was your turn to laugh. “The kindness of your heart,” you wheezed between laughs. “Sure, okay. Yeah.”

He swallowed the last piece of his meal and gestured towards the sofas. 

“Bucky will be guarding you throughout the night. Don’t think of trying anything.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you beamed at his sour expression right before leaving the table.

Masterlist

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts

PART 11:

It’s been a long day. A long, arduous, day of plastering on your best customer service voice and smiling pretty for each and every person that walked through your door. Luckily though, your last patient was waiting just behind the door. Rubbing a tired hand down your face, you stride in, trying to look cheerful.

“Hello! So I see from your chart that you’ve-“

The sight that greets you is not what’s on your clipboard. It leaves you stopped in your tracks- trying to figure out why there was a child where a grown woman should’ve been sitting. You check your paper again, making sure you’ve got the right room. You do, and that just confuses you all over again.

The little boy is dirtied, grime lining his cheeks and staining his clothes- he is clearly not the middle aged woman who was on your schedule for today. His hair is a little matted, oily and very obviously unkempt, but that's not what worries you the most. No, what worries you the most is his skin.

All across his forearms, and down his legs is strange tearing. It's like the skin as been split from the inside out, leaving behind a pattern of angry red scabbing and pink scars. They're not clean slices either; the edges are clearly jagged. The cuts were laced together, overlapping and intersecting in a pattern not consistent with any blade or claw you'd ever seen before, and you had seen almost everything.

The sight leaves you reeling, but you don’t falter. A measly schedule mix-up wouldn’t throw you off this easily, especially not with how clearly this little boy needs your help.

"Alright, do you think you could give me your arm?" You ask gently, trying your best to sound friendly. You're not sure if it really matters though- the boy looks straight past you. Focuses his eyes on the wall behind you, like you're not even there. "Can I have your arm? Just to clean up the wound, I promise. It looks like it hurts a lot, and I'd love to help you feel better."

The boy looks at you then, and you're horrified by what you see. He looks at you, big gray eyes and dark eyelashes, but there's nothing there. Absolutely nothing. It's like looking into a void, and all you can see is your own reflection in his irises. It leaves you unsettled. Itching in your own skin, almost tempted to look away.

The boy puts his arm out. Holds it completely straight, locking his elbow robotically. His face stays perfectly impassive. He doesn't even blink while the open cut visibly shifts with his sudden movement.

"I- alright, I'm just gonna clean around the wound. Sound good?" You try again, taking his tiny arm in your hands.

Under your fingers tips all you can feel is skin and bones. He's practically skeletal, and you can't see any veins under skin that was already paper-thin. You're not sure who this boy is, where he came from- but you could tell from a mile away; he didn't have anybody looking out for him.

The thought made your heart break, made your fingers itch with the need to take all his pain away. Fueled by that, you did your best to clean his wound quickly.

It was a fairly large wound, but it wasn't very deep. That would have been a bright side except when you took a closer look, this new cut resembled all the old scars lining his arms and legs. Whatever did this to him, whatever caused the tearing and the weird pattern of scarring, had been doing it for a long time. A disturbingly long time considering the state of the rest of his body.

The current wound is no longer actively bleeding, but it definitely isn’t scabbed yet. Its vulnerable to the air and to infection, so you quickly start cleaning it. The boy doesn’t move the entire time- not even wincing when you spray disinfectant on the cut. It’s the strangest thing you’d ever seen. It was like the boy wasn’t even in the room with you at all. Like he was somewhere else entirely.

He only needs a few stitches, for the broadest part of the cut, but the boy doesn’t react when you tell him that either. He doesn’t flinch when you smear the cold numbing gel, nor does he even blink when you thread your needle. He watches the entire time though- empty eyes tracking each time the needle sinks into his skin. The process is over and done with in minutes, but nothing feels simple. Everything feels wrong and your fingers still itch red-hot beneath your gloves.

A part of you is tempted to use your quirk, just for a second, to see what he was feeling. To try and connect with him at all, since none of your earlier attempts had even remotely worked. But you don’t, you don’t do that- even was you begin cleaning up. You keep your hands to yourself as you wrap up the extra gauze, terrified of what you’d feel if you touched him.

The boy suddenly murmurs something, voice hardly a whisper.

You can’t make out his words- not from where you are a few steps away. So you near a little bit, taking care not to scare him with any sudden movements. He watches you, mouth pressed into a neutral line until you’re close. Then he chews his cheek, takes a deep breath and speaks.

“I-I’m sorry.” The boy whispers.

He shoots forward grabbing onto your wrist with tiny fingers. A chill like you’ve never experienced before runs through you.

It’s like your blood’s gone glacial- freezing up and stalling the flow in your veins. Goosebumps cover your skin almost immediately, teeth threatening to chatter after hardly a few seconds. You’re frozen in place, fear squeezing your heart in your chest, and all your can do is look at the small child holding on to your forearm.

His face is no longer neutral. His eyes are staring right back at you, wide and unbelieving. You can see now that his eyes aren’t translucent gray. They are blue. Pure blue when they catch the white light from the ceiling above and not the dull grey of the floor tiles. You only catch it for a second, then he’s dropping his head, throwing your arm away from him.

“I’m sorry.” He says again.

You spin on your heels, eyes wide. He doesn’t sound like a child. Throughout your time at the hospital, you’d seen many children come and go through the doors, but he didn’t sound like any of them. He sounded withered, tired, like even speaking took the wind out of him. It was a hollowness that had your heart stopping in your chest.

Then he kicks his foot behind him, grabbing at a handle shoved between his heel and the back of the shoe. All you see is the glint of the blade as he unsheathes it and your blood runs even colder than before. You bring your hands up, defensive and terrified but he just blinks at you. Blinks at you and doesn’t even flinch as he drags the serrated blade up the entire length of his forearm. Blood pools around the wound and drips onto the floor, forming an unnaturally perfect circle in front of him. You’re freaked, but the boy is passive. Passive even as the blood congeals, turning thicker and darker until it’s black.

He steps forward, into the center of the black puddle. The void eats him whole.

Your heart lurches in your chest, pulse speeding up, as you watch the void begin to shift once more. The boy’s blood retreats into itself, twisting and pulsating until it’s completely gone. The floor is spotless, and you’re left suffocating.

You can’t remember leaving the room, only bursting through the backdoors and into the cool night. You brace an arm against the brick wall, and snap at the waist gasping for air.

“Oi- leech. Leech.” He calls, and when you look over he’s suddenly right next to you. “What’s up with you, huh? Called your name. What, couldn’t fuckin’ hear me or somethin’?”

You hear his voice now, but it doesn’t do anything to quell the panic. Your heart is racing. “Bakugou. I need to-“ Your breath catches. “Fuck, there was this kid and he- cuts all up his arm and then he took out a knife and s-sliced-“

“A knife.” Bakugou repeats, eyes like wildfire even in the dark. “Where—what the fuck are you talking about? Slow down, can’t understand a damn thing.”

You try to listen to him, you really do, but even repeating the words makes you feel sick.

Throughout your years as a nurse, you’d seen a lot of gore. You’d seen more injuries, and more blood, and more horrific aftermaths than you could recall, but something about this boy made you sick. Maybe it was his small frame- how he couldn’t be any older than 11. Maybe it all the scars lining his arms. Maybe it was his quirk. The way he had to gravely injure himself just to use it.

You try to explain, but the words are coming out wrong. They’re clipped and panicked and Bakugou looks unhappier with each new one punched from your lungs.

“Stop- stop.” He says, fists clenched at his sides. “Did he come at you? Try to get you with the knife?”

“No- I- he got himself. Bakugou, he took the knife and cut himself. And all the blood, it just- it pooled on the floor and turned black and then he stepped in it!” You’re gasping now, hands out in front of you making a wide circle to demonstrate. “He disappeared and I don’t know where he went and I- he was bleeding so much. He was bleeding and he was covered in all these scars and he just cut himself and didn’t- and didn’t-”

You watch Bakugou curl his lip, shifting on his feet. He doesn’t say anything. Not for a long moment, and then he’s surging forward, large hands on your shoulders and forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“You need to breathe.” He says, voice quiet. Like he meant it to carry for just the two of you. “You need to breathe. Can’t do anything if you pass out in the street. So breathe. Just breathe.”

Bakugou squeezes your shoulders, thumbs digging into your collarbone until you look up at him. His eyes are wild, like solar flares, darting back and forth across your face. It’s obvious he doesn’t like what he sees. Still, you try to follow him. Try to look to his own ribcage for guidance until your world stops spinning.

You’re not sure how long you stand there. With his hands on your shoulders, trying to remember how to breathe. It sort of feels like forever.

“I- I need to,” You say suddenly. There’s something caught in the back of your throat, causing you to clear it before speaking once more. “I need to do something. Find him. I-I need to find him. I can’t. He’s bleeding.”

“I know. But you’re staying here. You can’t be reckless.”

Bakugou’s eyes are still blazing, but his voice isn’t like you’ve ever heard it before. It’s quiet, even, just low enough for you and you alone to hear. His thumbs on your collarbone are tracking gentle circles- you wonder if he knows he’s doing it at all.

“You’re gonna go home.” He says. “I’ll take you home, and then I’ll go back out and look. But you’re not goin’ anywhere like this. It’s reckless. Understand?”

Every bone in your body screams for you to fight- to tear off down the alley shouting and screaming until you found the little boy that so desperately needed help. But that seems impossible with the way Bakugou is looking at you now- so sure and certain of his plan. Like there’s no room for argument. Even if you tried to run, you’re sure he’d just catch you.

“You’ll look?” You ask quietly, all wide eyes looking up at him. “I- I need you to promise me. Promise me. Please.”

He squeezes your shoulders once, averting his eyes. “Yep. I will. Promise.”

Then he’s retreating like he’s been burnt, spinning away from you. He drops his hands by his sides, flexing his fingers, and starts off down the alley.

You figure that Bakugou expects you to follow, but your shaking makes that a tall order to fill. Still, you put one foot in front of the other, trying not to see pooling blood in each shadow that lines the empty street.

“What’s he look like?” Bakugou asks suddenly, just a few feet in front of you. “How old?”

“Um, blue eyes, but they look grey unless you really see them. Dark hair. He wouldn’t say his age, or anything really, but he’s definitely no older than 11. Maybe 10.”

That thought has your heart lurching in your chest, spinning your world on it’s axis once more.

“Why- why would he- he was covered in all those scars,” You start, running a heavy hand down your face. “They were from him. His blade- because his quirk is with his blood and- oh god, he was doing that to himself.”

Your heart collapses in on itself. It sits heavy at the bottom of your ribcage, weighing your entire body down with lead. It’s like you’re carrying a mountain with each step, and all you can think about is empty blue eyes and angry red scars.

“Why would he do that?” You ask quietly, eyes following your feet closely just to keep you moving. “Hurt himself just to do that? He can’t want to- there’s no way. Someone has to be making him- someone has to-“

Bakugou spins around, eyes like steel. “Kids’ll do anything to feel powerful.” He flicks his gaze down to his own hands, fingers twitching. Then he shakes his head, begins walking forward once more. “Even hurt themselves and others.”

“So you don’t think- you think he’s doing that all by himself? He can’t, that’s not, it can’t-“

“It can.” His voice is quiet, devoid of all the explosive inflection you’ve come to expect from him. “Trust me, I know.”

Bakugou’s walking in front of you, clad in his hero costume. His black mask is intact, but even without it you’re not sure he’d let you see his eyes. They gave too much away.

Bakugou keeps moving forward, hardly even turns back to make sure you’re still following. He’s quiet, strangely so, and you’re not used to this kind of silence with him. It’s odd- makes the already inky streets bleed darker shadows, every twist and turn heightening your anxiety. You walk a little closer to him.

He turns his head, red eyes catching you close behind him. His lip twitches up for a moment and he slows. Broad shoulder’s slot into place next to yours, and you swear the streets get a little less scary.

“I’ll find him.” He says. “I will.”

Then the silence hangs thick and heavy over the both of you.

Before you know it, you’re opening the door to your apartment building with tired limbs. Bakugou stays back, but you can feel his eyes watch you. Even through the glass when you shut the door behind you. You give him a half-hearted wave but it doesn’t feel right even to you.

You enter you apartment, immediately flicking all the lights on, tilting your lamp until it’s shooting light through every dark shadow. You know that’s not how it works- that the child used blood and not darkness to teleport, but it still helps ease your mind a bit. Anything to get rid of the blackness at the edges of your vision- the blackness that reminds you so much of pooling tar.

Curling your knees up to your chest, you press your back into the cushions of your couch. You wonder when the fear started settling in. At what point on the walk home that the adrenaline faded- when you started wanting the boy and his blood to disappear instead of being found.

You glance at the clock and then to your balcony door, rinse and repeat for the next few hours. Awake and fearful, practically begging Bakugou to show up. As the world seemed to grow more dangerous, you felt more and more helpless without him.

It was a thought that left you feeling even sicker than before, but you couldn’t deny the relief you felt at the sound of knocking.

“Hey,” You yawn, tiredly, sliding the door open for Bakugou. “You find him?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” He admits, brushing past you. “No fuckin’ trace. You sure he was a kid?”

“Positive.”

“And he was covered in scars?”

“Mhm.”

He drops on your couch, tipping his head all the way back with a groan. “I didn’t see any shitty brats. Sorry.”

The apology comes out sharp, a little sarcastic, but his eyes give him away. He is sorry. At least, as much as you can expect from him.

You drop down onto the other side of the couch, tucking your legs up close to your chest. There’s warmth clinging to the cushions, left-over from where you’d been sitting, but you’re still freezing- skin left with a perpetual chill.

Bakugou lets his head loll to the side, rolling against the back of your couch, until he’s looking directly at you. “You alright, leech?”

A part of you wants to lie- but you figure it wouldn’t do much good. He’d just see right through you anyways.

“No.” You say softly, winding your arms around your legs. “Sat here the whole time. Awake. Thinking.”

He looks at you a little strangely then, shifting until he’s sitting straight up.

“Something bad ‘s happening, I think.” Your voice comes out hollow. “With the boy. He’s- I’ve never seen anything like that. He said sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Mhm. Sorry. To me. And then he grabbed my arm.” You scratch at your arms, trying to keep the itch in your skin away. “I don’t- I think he knew. About my quirk somehow. He touched my skin. Under my sleeve.”

“What?” Bakugou jolts forward, eyes crazed. “Tell me again, from the fuckin’ top. Don’t leave a single goddamn thing out.”

So you recount it, once more, paying extra attention to the way Bakugou reacts to each one of your words. His eyebrows knit together, eyes hardly leaving your face for even a moment. It’s not until you explain the way you’d felt, when the boy had grabbed you, that Bakugou clenches his fist. His knuckles go white as he grits his teeth.

“He fuckin’ knew.” His voice is venomous, steely and serious. “He knew- but that doesn’t- I sat out. Watched- everything. Fuckin’ kid couldn’ta slipped past me. Must’ve come in the same way he got out.”

“You were outside?”

You question is swallowed up as Bakugou stands, gravely voice steamrolling entirely over your own.

“Fucker knew,” He seethes, crossing his arms. “He fuckin’ knew, and he got past me. Gonna- gonna find him. Swear to fuck-“

“He’s a child.” You try to protest, but Bakugou isn’t listening. “Not some crazy super villain and-“

He’s practically worked himself up into a frenzy now, muttering threats under his breath while he paces. You’re not exactly sure why he’s so upset, but he looks at you and suddenly there’s no mistaking the funny little crease in his eyebrows.

Worry.

You can help yourself then, standing and nearing him. Reaching out your hand until your gloved fingers make contact with his forearm.

“He’s just a child.” You say, eyes wide and imploring. “And he said sorry. It’s- I think he didn’t want to. Someone’s making him. So it’s not his fault, alright? He didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.”

Bakugou flicks his eyes down, to where your fingers are resting on his skin. He scrunches his nose up, but he doesn’t shake you off.

“This time.” He says, red eyes staring back into yours, his voice just as serious as before. “This time you’re fine. But it’s not- there’s not gonna be a fuckin’ next time, alright? I won’t- it’s just not gonna fuckin’ happen.”

You think he’s finished, but then Bakugou is flaring his nostrils, and clearing his throat. “‘m gonna find this fuckin’ kid, okay? Swear it.”

“I know.” You say, because you do know. When he looks at you like that, it’s clear there’s never any other possibility. Nothing but the future he carves out for himself. “I know you will.”

Bakugou nods, and after that it takes only seconds until he’s deflating. You’re almost sure you’ve forgotten your gloves then, when his chest settles and the angry red seeps out of him complexion so suddenly. But when you look down, you see nothing but silk where your skin should be.

“You didn’t sleep.” He finally says. “Kid used up some of your quirk, and you’re not fuckin’ tired?”

You look up at him. “No. I- I am. Couldn’t fall asleep though. Freaked out and everything, you know?”

“You’re home now.”

“I know.” You say, finally stepping back and turning away. Wringing your hands together, you settle back into your spot on the couch. “I tried, earlier, to sleep, but I just keep seeing stuff. In the shadows, I mean.”

He looks at you a little weird, hardly for a second, before pursing his lips and shifting his eyes away.

“I know, I know, it’s dumb. Childish, probably.” You backtrack, a nervous, tired laugh leaving your lips. “Couldn’t help it though. Still can’t- actually, I have no idea how I’m gonna sleep tonight.” 

He shifts on his feet, obviously uncomfortable. “You scared of the dark now or somethin’?”

It sounds even more ridiculous when he puts it’s like that- when he phrases it as something so minuscule. But it doesn’t feel tiny to you. The fear isn’t manageable at all when you think about retreating to your bedroom, cowering away from all it’s dark corners and crevices.

Well, you reason, tomorrow was a day off for you. Losing out on a night of sleep is probably the least expensive loss you could’ve suffered tonight.

“Maybe I’ll just stay up.” You finally decide, rubbing at your eyes. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna stay up, I think.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be fuckin’ ridiculous. You’re fallin’ asleep right now.”

“I’m not. I’m good.”

You lie and you’re sure Bakugou can see through it. Still, he says nothing, choosing instead to bide his time. But with each passing minute he squints his eyes, knits his eyebrows together a little more with each yawn that you try to suppress. He gives it another few seconds before swearing under his breath, spinning around until you’re only looking at his back.

“J-just sleep there.” He grumbles, pinched and tight while he clenches his fists at his sides. “‘s your fuckin’ house.”

“I can’t,” You yawn, once again trying to hide it behind your hand. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

“I’ll sleep later, ‘s fine. Stop complanin’.”

“I said it’s fine. ‘n besides, I’ll stay up, yeah? Nobody’s gonna fuckin’ get ya.” His voice is a little soft, and you think Bakugou knows it too, because then he’s clearing his throat. Loudly. Making a show of setting his shoulders back until he looks intimidating again. “A-and if you’re not sleepin’ in the next 5 fuckin’ minutes, you don’t gotta worry about anyone anyways because ‘m gonna kill you myself. So go the fuck to sleep already. Leech.”

You can’t help the giggle that leaves your mouth. Nor the second, louder laugh that tumbles from your mouth when he whips his head around at the sound.

“I get it.” You say gently. “I’ll sleep. But please don’t murder me while I’m at it, okay?”

Bakugou smiles something tiny and satisfied, but he covers it up by turning back around. By sinking to the floor a few feet in front of you, crossing his legs beneath him. He keeps his eyes trained forward, palm unturned and clearly ready to explode whatever lurked in the dark.

For lack of better words, he looked like a guard dog. The most blood thirsty one you’d ever seen, maybe, but that still didn’t change the fact that as long as he was around, nobody out to get you was leaving the room unscathed.

It was thought that settled your mind, had your heart slowing down in your chest. Enough to have you easing down into the cushions, stretching out on your couch with a tired sigh.

You try not to think about who is sitting directly in front of you. Try not to think about how you can’t tell if the blanket you’re using smells like him, or if he’s just sitting too close to tell. Try not to think about how easy it’d be to whisper something tiny-a thank you maybe, for everything he’s doing.

But you know he’d hate that. You know he’d pinch his face up, like you’d just burned him, and that knowledge of him only has you warming a little more.

So you pull the blanket up around your shoulders and settle instead for watching the back of his head as you drift off. The way he never stops moving- making sure to look at each and every corner of the room as often as he can.

//-//

oh my god y'all semester's finally over,, i cAN DO THINGS I LIKE AGAIN - pls my blog has been so dead for the last like, month but i swear im bout to revitalize tf out of it babey !!!! ;))))))

taglist:  @fluffyviciousbunny @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai @christianagrace9  @the-shota-king-masayuki @shy-panda02 @devastyle @shoto-supremacy00 @shotoful @falloutgirlzz

[baby-justins-world]

Dis was a story made for @chompchompchu pwease be nice

1993

    In Montana there is a dig for what is considered the oldest bones on earth. These belonged to the oldest known animals to have walked the earth. Dinosaurs. At this dig site three people have just uncovered a skeleton of a velociraptor. The man wearing a straw hat and aviator sunglasses as well as plaid button up shirt was Dr. Alan Grant  world-renowned paleontologist. The woman next to him is Dr. Ellie Sattler. She specializes in prehistoric plants and is also Dr. Grant's girlfriend. The third was a man in his late teens and an upcoming  paleontologist doing his thesis paper on Velociraptors under Dr. Grant’s advice. 

This young man is remarkable as he is about to graduate college at the age of 18. This young man had worked hard and prided himself on being able to focus despite his autism. This young man impressed Dr. Grant and that was considered almost impossible given his hatred of children. This young man’s name is Rex James or Moth as he was called by Dr. grant.

“Dr. Grant! We’re ready to try again!” A random worker called and the three went over to the main tent to see if they could get a better radar image. Rex nearly laughed at how Alan made a fourteen year old kid named Owen Gradey piss his pants. Rex wasn’t one to talk much around crowds. He had fifteen hundred thing on his mind at any given time so it was better he didn’t. After the demonstration of the new technology a helicopter flew overhead nearly undoing the hard work that had taken months.

Rex still didn’t know how he found himself sitting in a jeep next to Dr. Ian Malcolm along with Dr. Grant and Dr. Sattler. When they came to a stop. A large moving animal ate leaves from the top of a tree. The only thing off..it was a brachiosaurus. Rex stood next to Ellie and Alan as they lost their minds and Rex wasn’t far behind. Rex could vaguely hear the lawyer say ‘We’re going to make a foruton with this place’ which pissed Rex off. Here before his eyes was the most incredible scientific discovery in history and all he could think of was money.

“Dr. Grant, My dear Dr. Sattler, Mr. James, Welcome to Jurassic park. Later in a dark room with projectors all six sat at a round table eating lunch. Ian was getting into an argument with Hamond and for the first time that day Rex spoke up.  “I agree with Ian here. While I have seen things here today that in eighteen years on this earth i never thought i’d be able to see we are messing with the one thing that shouldn't be messed with, nature. However, John, I'm willing to wait until the end of the tour.” Everyone was shocked by how Rex spoke. It wasn’t everyday you heard an eighteen year old speak as thoughtfully as Rex had.

It was decided that Rex would ride with Ian, Alan and Ellie. It was dark and stormy now. They were waiting for the storm to pass so they could go back to the Visitor center. Ian and Rex had been talking and had grown a bond. It was almost as if Ian was a father to Rex. Then the T-Rex blew out of her paddock. As Ian tried and failed to divert Rexy away Rex went to check on him when Rexy saw him. Rex thought his life was over. But Rexy had other plans for him. She let out a roar that caused Rex to age backward. Where once stood an eighteen year old now stood a two year old. Rex crawled to the ruins of the bathroom and curled around Ian. When Ellie came to retrieve Alan she didn’t expect to find a two year old Rex and a badly injured Ian. As Ellie hefted Rex into her arms her heart melted and broke at the same time. She knew how hard Rex had worked but at the same time Rex can get the childhood he deserves. 

Rex came from his slumber while on the way to the emergency bunker. “Hey there, How are you Moth?” Ellie asked, brushing the hair out of Rex’s eyes. “Ellie, me all wittle!” Rex exclaimed, remembering his de-ageing. “I can see. And there's some bad news.” Elilie said hoping beyond hope that Rex wouldn’t have the reaction she was predicting. Rex knew the second she said ‘bad news’ that it wasn’t reversible. He didn’t scream or kick or yell, all he did was lay his head on Ellie’s shoulder. Ian was in awe at how Rex was able to keep calm. 

“You know, Kelly’s been begging for a little brother.” Ian said while motioning for ellie to put Rex in his arms. Hammond smiled at the scene and vowed that he’d do everything to help 

Rex. 

Once the contingent was in the air Rex was feeling very sleepy but was afraid that he’d lose his adult mind. Malcolm saw this and held him tighter. “You know, I, uh, don’t care if, uh, you become the dumbest, uh, most droolliest, uh, baby ever I’ll take care of you.” Rex’s eyes were dropping dangerously. Everyone smiled at the soon to be father and son. “Sleep my little dinosaur king.” Ian said as Rex fell asleep. As it turned out the dinosaurs weren’t the only ones given second chances.

[d3monslust]

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 - 𝐀.𝐃.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Only setting up traps for them , Andy didn't see any of this coming

𝐖𝐂 : 3,151

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage & abusive relationships , cheating , manipulation , violence

𝐀/𝐍 : tumblr deleted the original and I thought for couple of minutes I haven’t backed it up to the point I had a panic attack :) also I worked really hard for this , any kind of interaction is appreciated!!

////////////////June 7th 2020\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Every story has a happy ending , where the villain gets defeated and the heroes win , but in eden , no one could recognize the corruption and the decent. Everyone hid their darkest and filthiest desires deep down inside them , in their abyss of their souls . Andy knew that , from first hand . He was still getting to know the place , the idle juveniles laying in the sandy beaches , the laughs of the middle aged men echoing through the thickness of the trees’ leaves . A literal paradise ... with no God .

Dolan had promised his wife to keep her safe, and eventually after his decadence , he was more fazed than anything . Their inseparable form could be made out from kilometers ago, their vivid and full of life auras leaving hints of sunshine from time to time . Winning the couple of the year and being stunned was not in their plans but the did not dodge it . Until Dolan started venturing at inexcusable bars , reciprocal pink lipstick decorating one side of his neck while he reclined next to his bond , mumbling about his ambiguous accomplishments. He had her to the point , Mariah felt overwhelmed. The weight of his nifty assets , the gravitas of his clumsy , yet anticipated acts made her scream and wince .

But Mariah David Dolan , did not intend on giving up so easily , only because her husband was demonstrating his incompetent self . Haphazardly, or not , the female found herself at Sherlock’s , who fasty evaluated and corrupted all of her nasty problems . Taken the right measurements, Mariah decided to treat themselves to a dinner , the brunette averting his gaze back from his laptop to his wife. “Did something happen ?” Mariah never cooked , even at special , “crowded” occasions , she wouldn’t lay a finger at the metallic kitchenware . “No . I just though about all the work you’re recently hooked with. A nice dinner with your wife would help you blow off some steam” smirking at the fit of the last words, she left Dolan alone, drowning in his intellectually safe thoughts.

The capriciousness of the vexing atmosphere made the couple exchange some absurd looks. With Andy being the always tired one, sexual intercourse was lost long ago . “Something you would like to say ?” “No .” She went for a debate , any sort of the key for relationships , communication. If that clink unraveled , there would be no sweet salvation for the married couple . “Well , I want to say something.” Andy whispered a silent “go on” as one of their housekeepers wiped off him some of the pasta’s sauce . “I’m pregnant .” the brunette almost choked at the hear , she couldn’t be . “What ?” voice so small , the trait of vulnerability showing .

The fraction made his stomach toss and turn with anticipation, his dreams for the unknown slowly falling apart . “I’m pregnant on the 3rd month .” eyes infested with fury , the blue like sea color dissipated. “And when were you planning on telling me , hm ? When the waters would broke ? Or when the bump would start to show ? Or when you couldn’t fucking miscarriage?” his excessive, painful words ventured to withhold her insurmountable fury . Unceremoniously, his unbeatable character almost took back his sharp words , the marvel Mariah always waited for could intervene their scold and corrupt his grudge . Albeit she had cried and prayed for that baby to come , her husband didn’t yearn it .

“Did you talk to the gynecologist? Can you ?” he stated chastely , reclining his tensed back to the chair . Who could envision Andy Dolan with a child ? The reluctance became vexing , the tension had to be dwindled if she wanted to keep that inexcusable -for him- child . “Yes . We ... discussed and he said that I cannot ... get rid of it .” her unconvincingly words passed from the one ear to the other . He abruptly threw his crystal glass at the respective wall , agitating the woman to run to clean the mess . The hot , ambiguous tears wetting her cheeks . “Cant you just love me ?” she mumbled , her fasty movements elicited a cut from the sharp glass . She hissed at the pain , she wanted to resemble the perfect , sincere , housewife Andy pleased . To conquer the theme , so as to stand next to him with all her lucid pride while clutching his right hand .

And the things became even worse , chaos consuming the island , darkness drowning the residents . But the worst was Andy’s behavior shift . The unintelligible man faltered and his intriguing about his serene family faded , woefully leaving only his malice and possession . Fighting with his own demons , his rigid and virile facade came and ended up resented . The 24-hour absence of the paternal figure made the child cope with egregious insults and quarrels . Curling up in her little bed , her hands covering the ears as not to listen his beloved parents . Was her the reason they fought every night ? And as the family withered , Andy prepared to hit with sweet and sour vengeance .

“Please ...” the woman begged , the tears blocking her already blurry vision . Fatigue in her system degenerating, she tried to refrain this , but Dolan’s wrath could not be avoided . “Please what , hm ? You had a fucking debt ! Look after that damned child . And I swear to god Mariah ^ if something had happened to my daughter!” he scolded . “Oh come on ! Stop acting like you care ! You never did ... you never cared about your family .” His intimidating methods would usually work , and if not he would try for the vicious skin-to-skin contact . Slapping her and looking her terribly weak silhouette, squirming and crying under him . She remained frigid , not wanting to get that answer , Mariah ran to the basement , advancing around the marble halls like a lost puppy . Andy rubbed his stressed temple , waiting for his own kind of wonder to come and take him from this type of hell . The paradise where demons are hidden .

Andy never wanted to become one of them. That vicious, hungry, creatures . Demons . The olds said that if somebody approached the North river he would see a little red creature . A graceful , gorgeous demon . That was bullshit , demons didn't exist , his friend Michael had told him , that poor man - he had taken the subject of claiming to be the Antichrist of the end times too thick . He ended up at an asylum - good man , sick brain . “What are you thinking ?” . God , or whoever , heard him sent him his guardian angel . The nifty woman was everything he wished for . A real living angel . And that chaste, naive flirt shifted into this; whatever that was.

“Nothing to be honest . But let’s not talk about me , hmmm ?” the girl nodded heartily . Y/N had found her person , the one she could trust and never receive betrayal , the one she could cry at and talk about her insurmountable problems . Their meeting was casual - one , two drinks exchanged , some additional winks and the saccharine act of sex to help Y/N realize her feelings. When she was with him , the blithe and sybarite feeling would bloom inside her , becoming as beautiful as a sanguine rose . She chuckled at his works , could describe him as selfless ? No . But to her ... yes . Her despondent self hid his abusive and possessive persona . For her eyes and only , Andy Dolan was a god , innocent and perfect . “I wanted to ask about ... the divorce ? When are you two signing it ?” he had to be astute and answer handily . But they answer was always the same “Oh sweetheart, don’t worry . Mariah is a bit pertinacious but I’ll persuade her , okay ?” and she would fall at the trap , again .

“You’re always answering the same !” maybe today she would revolt and fortunately leave the poisonous love of Andy’s . His eyes shone dangerously, he didn’t want to do this . “Y/N’s not like Mariah” he would remind himself , but the poor girl was sticking her nose almost everywhere . “Aren’t you pleased , hm ? I took you from that fucking clinic , I helped you withdraw and this is your thank you ? I’m disappointed in you , Y/N .” his esoteric character on sight again . His cogent and invidious words caused the sentient girl spill the salty water . The male disdaining to help or comfort . “You deserve this anyway .” she stumbled back , her apprehension increasing whilst seeing him standing up from the bed . That absurdity had to stop , but he had saved her and it was her time now .

As Andy returned home , and the futile try to persuade his wife about the divorce exhausted him , he found himself at his daughter’s room . Observing her sincere and innocent moves . “Daddy ?” “Yes , Baby ?” his far-fetched sweet talk made the two smile in sync . The blonde’s smile making daddy crack . “Can I tell you something?” Andy nodded , hoping the child wouldn’t have read any of his recreational messages . “Mommy told me the reason she doesn’t want you two to break up !” his eyes lit up at her appendix . Perhaps it was the money or the child but anyway - Andy had to know . “What’s that ?” patting his lap for the girl to sit , Hera made herself comfortable at the warmth of his legs . “She said that she won’t let you fool around with every individual who has two holess.” “She said what ?!?!” “Yes , yes but what did she mean when she said “every individual with two holes .” ?” “Not now , Hera .” he quickly placed the kid down , as she sulked at her daddy’s extraordinary behavior.

By the time Andy stated the predicament , Mariah had ruminated on her terms . She should have said this , fuck she really shouldn’t . Her dull and attention-seeking words pushed her husband’s last buttons . “Are you fucking braindead ? What was that you said to my daughter ?!” she knew where that debate would end up . Condescendingly , she wrapped her arms around his neck . Her touch-starved grating amusing his carnal urges . Not wanting to dwell on the situation , Andy let it happen . Her amorous posture , the well-med hair , how didn’t he feel it coming ? Her hands traveling at his shirt’s buttons while Andy’s fingers went for her top . Discarded clothing were soon decorating the floor of their kitchen . His greed for more would eat him up one day . And he waited - patiently and calmly for that day . Her tenuous dominance caused waking up his boredom. But his prurient mind , thought otherwise.

She licked his upper lip , Andy letting her tongue slip into his mouth . The sloppy kiss turning into something more passionate, more loving . “I’ve missed this .” she mumbled in between breaths , making a smirk plaster on Dolan’s face . “I’ve missed you .” he hushed her by kissing her , the loving , lingering kiss making butterflies fly in her stomach . “Andy ?” he groaned at the call , not wanting to eye roll , he approved the question and motivated to go on . “Do you love me ?” “Yes. Only you . And no one else . I know things are hard right now but I’ll make it up to you.”

Bare bodies tangled . Two bodies in one . His hips snapped viciously at hers , hand grabbing a harmful fist of hair . Abruptly pulling it back , making Mariah hiss at the sudden contact of pain . The persona she would only see , not even Y/N , the sadistic one . Her head touching his sweaty torso , the tears in her eyes strengthening his stamina . The coil in her stomach tightened and as the loved noticed it - his hands traveled between her puffy lips , toying with her little bud . “I’m .... im-” her muffled cries interrupting her . “I know baby . Cum , cum with me .” and the coil in her belly broke synchronized with his . The addicting feeling of euphoria engulfing them both . “You did so well .” his sugary words causing her pride to rise , awaking her love for him . Just like the old times . “I love you , Mariah .” she perched at his tight embrace , inhaling his intoxicating scent . “Mhm me too .” she had to savor the moment . Mariah didn’t know what could possibly find her tomorrow .

////////////////

And as Andy distanced himself from Y/N, he kept his promise and made up the tangle. At least everything that could be fixed . The insuperable bond they created was ineffable. The somnolent love , almost dead , rose back from the dead . His pernicious and arcane self opened at his therapist . The Dolans couldn’t be happier . Apathy no longer lived between them . No invidious implication wafting around the tensed atmosphere. Just some more scarce , anticipated details and Dolan would finally fall into blithely.

Andy planted the usual good morning kiss on his wife . Excusing himself for his aimless absence on lunch and venturing to the car . The fraction of 2 to months without seeing Y/N, made him tacit. Where was the power Dolan’s hold ? He couldn’t falter, not now. He would withhold and keep things conservative. His conscience screamed no , but he shut it off , not wanting to trust his instincts . Choosing the obliviousness.

Approaching her modern like house , the cars of topical police confused his comprehension. Incompetent to walk inside , albeit he promised not to care - a part which was got circumvented - some of his worry remained to Y/N . “Officer , is she okay ?” the concern in his eyes made the blue - dressed man doubt his accusation . “Sir , are you Mr.Dolan ?” the man let his white scribbling block down , paying full attention to the brunette . “In the flesh .” two more patrols approaching, no feeling of timidity in their eyes . His envision had to be mendacious . A prosaic one , more realistic. “Andy Dolan you are arrested for the murder of Y/N Y/L/N” his conception blurred, everything changing into automatic. His eyes caught the figure of his wife talking to another police man - she wouldn’t? Would she ?

Everything happened so quickly, the metal handcuffs were clutched onto his hand, the ignominious state making him sentient. He would go to prison and there was no denial in that . At least he would leave Eden .

/////////////// Now \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

He had learnt the news . Mariah was in all this . She had been informed about Andy’s illegal affair , not only with women but with drugs , too . On the one side, she had managed to plan her husband’s perfect suicide but the contradiction she received made her tentative. Therefore she visited the professionals . Sherlock’s beneficial - for both Mariah and him- and handily trap got Dolan arrested . They had planned everything, even the littlest detail . The plan was easy , yet complicated.

He would wake up at 7:15 a.m. as always . Head to the kitchen to make his morning coffee , catch up with Mariah who would accidentally leave the house . His phone would remind him about his last meeting with Y/N , where she would end up thing with him . Or what Mariah had decided to do for her . Y/N had left the island months ago when Mrs.Dolan appeared in her house and threatened to kill her and her soon-to-be-born child. As Andy would drive his way , Sherlock would leave his fingerprint everywhere , placing them carefully at the edges of the gun . Next step would be Y/N’s doppelgänger, nice and murdered next to the white rug .

-

The unbearable route of the dull prison . The thousand of men behind the metal bars , hungry for every kind of fight and sexual intercourse nettled his every atom . Compelling himself not to communicate with anyone , Andy , who had received a life imprisonment lost and the last bit of faith . There was no salvation for him , it never existed . “You have a letter .” the word taking him out of his dwelling thoughts. His family never sent him letters , not that they were coming . Drugs were forbidden, or that was the law applied . “Sender ?” “Unknown .” Andy wasn’t in the mood for playing games . This almost one years in prison erased all of his lenient future. Additionally, alleviating his last mendacious fantasies about life .

Taking the rigid piece of paper , the handwriting of a woman caught his attention . Refraining himself from toring it apart and throwing it to the trash can , he want for abstinence. Cutting the edges with a small knife which used to hide right down his pillow , the form a photo fall on the floor . Inhaling a piece of pure reluctance , Andy took the shiny piece of paper between his hands . The silhouettes of two girls laughing at each other quirked his eye brow . But her ineffable and disheveled beauty stopped his breath . A baby adjoining her side , made him caught the implication . The transparent eligibility to join this family causing him to incandescent. That was his child and his Y/N .

Last thing , eyes traveling at the bottom of the photo

- SHOT WITH NIKON 456 | 6/4/2021 | 7:56 p.m.

And they were alive .

////////////////////////////////////////

Tag list ; @ferndolan @brooklinn13 @lavenderahs @mllxngdonswife @kitty4860

If anyone wants to be removed or added just say it lol

[myonechicagoworld]

CHICAGO FIRE – LEADERS LEAD (S01E22)

Kelly Severide: A promotion, huh?

Tara Little: You need to stay away.

Kelly Severide: You get a promotion, and meanwhile, I could go to

                           jail?

Tara Little: Get away.

Kelly Severide: They’re talking about filing criminal charges. Why

                           the hell are you doing this? I didn’t do a damn

                           thing to you.

Tara Little: I said to stay away.

Man 1 (Shopper): Are you okay, ma’am?

Kelly Severide: She’s fine.

Man 1 (Shopper): Ma’am?

Kelly Severide: We both know nothing happened that night.

Man 1 (Shopper): Hey.

Kelly Severide: Tara!

                                        [car door shuts]

                                              cutscene

Matt Casey: I have a request.

Hallie Thomas: Yeah? What’s that?

Matt Casey: [groans]

Hallie Thomas: Jeez.

                                            [chuckling]

Matt Casey: We don’t move from this spot for the entire day.

                                        [kissing sound]

Hallie Thomas: And you skip your shift?

Matt Casey: Hmm? I’ll just have truck pick me up here if we get any

                     calls.

Hallie Thomas: Tsk. I don’t think these boxers are going to stand up

                           against a fire.

Matt Casey: I’ll just call out orders from this spot. “Cruz, grab a 2 ½.

                     Mouch put down the sandwich.”

                                         [kissing sound]

Hallie Thomas: At 24 hours and 1 minute, I wanna be right back

                          here.

Matt Casey: Deal.

                                            cutscene

                                        [car door shuts]

                                         [kissing sound]

Matt Casey: See you later.

Peter Mills: I’m happy for ‘em.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, me too.

Peter Mills: Are you?

Gabby Dawson: Without a doubt, yes.

                                [Mills & Dawson chuckles]

Peter Mills: Good.

                    So, um, this might be a weird time but um… I was just

                    thinking this whole two rent thing, it’s��� it’s crazy.

Gabby Dawson: The two rent thing?

Peter Mills: I mean, you know, you’re basically living with me

                    already, and we don’t call each other to say, “Hey, I

                    mean are you home yet?” So… how about I give you

                    a key, we make it official, you move in? I realise…

                    that was the complete opposite of being romantic.

                    Um…

Gabby Dawson: No, no.

Peter Mills: No, look, I know I’m really, really bad at this. I-I keep

                    beating around the bush all the time. Look, I love you.

Gabby Dawson: Uh…

Peter Mills: I think we should live together.

Gabby Dawson: I’m…

Peter Mills: Oh, God. God, that was awful. That was really awful.

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] Yeah, it was.

Peter Mills: Look, take the time you need to think about it. Let me

                    know. No pressure.

Joe Cruz: [groans]

Christopher Herrmann: All right, hey! Peter Mills, hurry up! ‘Cause I

                                         gotta take your money after I finish with

                                         Cruz here.

Peter Mills: [sighs] Okay, duty calls.

Leslie Shay: What up, sunshine?

                                     [station alert and buzzes]

                                         [ambo door closes]

(Over PA): Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61. Building collapse, 800

                  South Carpenter Street.

                                             [sirens wail]

                                           [horn honking]

Leslie Shay: He loves you. That’s great news, right?

Gabby Dawson: I don’t know.

Leslie Shay: Out with it. What?

Gabby Dawson: I… [groans]

                            I still haven’t come clean with him about Boden

                            and his mom. And it just… it feels like this dark

                            cloud hanging over us.

Leslie Shay: Over you, you mean?

Gabby Dawson: Well, to be fair, yes.

Leslie Shay: Okay. So repeat after me. “It’s not my business.”

Gabby Dawson: Shay.

Leslie Shay: I’m serious. That is between Boden and what’s her

                     name.

Gabby Dawson: I just feel guilty is all I’m saying. A lie of omission is

                            still a lie. And if we’re gonna be getting this

                            serious…

                                     [sirens continue to wail]

                                     [indistinct radio chatter]

                                    [background commotion]

Police Officer (Jim Barnes): Chief. All the schools are on spring

                                                break, big party. We were here on

                                                D&D when we saw the whole thing

                                                collapse, one porch on top of

                                                another.

Police Officer (Nicole Sermons): There’s at least a dozen trapped.

                                                       Just tell us where you need us,

                                                       Chief.

Chief Boden: Get the surface victims first. Set up cribbing columns.

                        K-12, sawzalls to cut away the timber.

                        (into radio) Battalion 25 to Dispatch, we have a three-

                        story deck collapse, multiple victims. Give me an

                        EMS Plan 2 and two extra truck companies for

                        manpower.

Dispatch: (over radio) Copy that.

Woman 1: No! No, God! Oh, God.

Chief Boden: Ma’am?

Woman 1: Oh!

Chief Boden: Ma’am, stay back. Come back, come on.

Woman 1: No, let me go. Let me go!

Chief Boden: Okay. Look at me.

Woman 1: No.

Chief Boden: Look at me, look at me. We are gonna do everything

                       in our power to help your friend.

Woman 1: Paul. His name is Paul. He’s my fiancé. Tell me he’s not

                  dead. We were just talking [cries]

Chief Boden: Okay, Katie.

Woman 1 (Katie): [sobbing] No.

Chief Boden: I need you to listen to me.

Woman 1 (Katie): [sobbing] No. Please don’t say it.

Chief Boden: Katie, he’s gone. He’s gone, he’s gone.

Woman 1 (Katie): [sobs] No!

Chief Boden: Katie, you gotta stop. You gotta stop.

Woman 1 (Katie): [sobs] No!

Chief Boden: Okay?

Woman 1 (Katie): [grunts]

                                       [slapping sound]

Woman 1 (Katie): You did nothing! [cries]

                              You did nothing! [cries]

                               [sobs]

                                        - title screen -

                             [victims yelling in background]

Victim 1: [sobs]

Joe Cruz: I got one!

Victim 1: [sobs] I’m gonna die.

Gabby Dawson: You are not gonna die, ma’am.

                            You are not gonna die.

Firefighters: Watch that.

                      Yeah, I’ll get it.

                      You got it?

Gabby Dawson: She’s got an impalement in her chest and lots of

                            blood. We gotta get her free enough to transport

                            her and this piece of wood.

Victim 1: I can’t breathe.

Peter Mills: Take slow breaths, okay? Slow breaths. Slow breaths,

                     all right?

Police Officer (Jim Barnes): Hey. We got one.

Leslie Shay: We need some more hands!

Victim 1: I’m not gonna… I’m not gonna… I’m not gonna…

Gabby Dawson: Hey, what’s your name?

Victim 1: Valerie.

Gabby Dawson: Valerie, you’re gonna make it. You have to believe

                            that, okay?

Victim 1 (Valerie): Don’t lie to me. You’re not telling me how bad it

                              is.

Peter Mills: Okay.

Kelly Severide: Okay, Valerie. Keep still.

Victim: [whimpers]

                                       [saw whirring]

Victim 1 (Valerie): Aah!

Kelly Severide: All right, clear.

Gabby Dawson: All right, let’s get her on the backboard! Now!

                                         [siren wails]

                              [monitor beeping slowly]

Gabby Dawson: Heart rate’s dropping.

                                  [monitor flat-lines]

Gabby Dawson: She’s crashing, Shay!

Leslie Shay: (into radio) 61 to Lakeshore, we’re coming in hot with a

                     trauma victim. 20 years old, impalement injury,

                     respirations are dropping.

Dispatcher: (over radio) Copy that.

Gabby Dawson: [heavy breathing] Come on.

Hallie Thomas: I need a crash cart. Call for respiratory and blood.

                          Let’s hang units of o-negative. Let’s get x-ray and

                          CT standing by.

                          Push an epi now.

                                      [pumping ambu bag]

Hallie Thomas: Stop compressions.

                          We got a pulse! Let’s get her into trauma! Let’s go!

                          Nice work, Dawson.

Leslie Shay: Wow.

                                               cutscene

                                            [truck beeps]

Mouch: Could’ve been a hell of a lot worse. Two DOAs and I bet we

              saved a dozen or more.

Joe Cruz: That right there is what it’s all about.

                                        [Japanese on TV]

Christopher Herrmann: All right.

                                        Hey.

                                              [clapping]

Otis Zvonecek: What are you doing?

Christopher Herrmann: I’m supposed to speak to Luke’s class

        ��                               about fire safety. So I’m gonna rig one side

                                        of the house with flammable materials and

                                        then the other side with flame-resistant

                                        type stuff. Then, I’m going to demonstrate

                                        the difference. Kids are gonna love it.

Otis Zvonecek: Oh. What could possibly go wrong?

Joe Cruz: Guys, guys, I have an announcement to make. Please, I

                  need everybody’s attention. Today, I came across

                  something so upsetting that it literally shook me to the

                  core. I was in the laundry room. I was pulling my stuff

                  from the washer to the dryer, and I discovered these left

                  inside.

Everyone: Oh!

                  [chuckling]

Christopher Herrmann: Don’t look at me. I’ve been a fruit of the

                                         loom man since 1975.

                                            [laughter]

Mouch: 20 bucks to whoever finds the owner.

Joe Cruz: Lieutenant!

                                   [roaring with laughter]

Joe Cruz: No!

Matt Casey: First, they ain’t mine. Second, these don’t come down

                      until the owner steps forward. I can’t unsee this.

                      Someone has to pay.

Otis Zvonecek: He who smelt it hath dealt it.

Joe Cruz: You’re nuts. Those look like something that a Russian

                  would wear on his wedding night.

Otis Zvonecek: They’re not mine, but I will put my money on Capp.

Mouch: Keep deflecting, Otis. That’s a good strategy.

Otis Zvonecek: Oh! Whoa! Whoa!

                               [dog whimpering and barking]

                                    [extinguisher spraying]

Christopher Herrmann: Maybe I’ll just let the kids wear the oxygen

                                         mask.

                                    [extinguisher blows]

Woman 2: Excuse me?

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah.

Woman 2: Hi. Uh, I was wondering, um, do you guys allow kids in

                  here to take a picture on a truck or something?

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah, of course we do. Where are the kids?

Woman 2: Oh. Um, I’m just checking. Some other time.

Christopher Herrmann: Okay.

                                               cutscene

Chief Boden: You confronted her in a parking lot.

                                          [water running]

Kelly Severide: I’m facing criminal charges. Damn right I confronted

                          her.

Chief Boden: You are not helping yourself.

Kelly Severide: Chief, I did nothing wrong.

Chief Boden: You did today. You strengthened her case.

Kelly Severide: Whose side are you on?

Chief Boden: I am trying to help you here.

Kelly Severide: Well, it doesn’t feel like it. I’ll handle this myself,

                           thanks.

Chief Boden: No, no. You contact her again, you go within 100 feet

                       of her, you will force me to take away your Squad.

Kelly Severide: That’s your way of helping?

Chief Boden: Yes.

Otis Zvonecek: Hey, Chief. Taking bets on the red skivvies from the

                           laundry. You interested?

                                              cutscene

Gabby Dawson: My dad used to tell me, “You have a choice. You

                            can either choose to be in a bad mood…”

Leslie Shay: Right.

Gabby Dawson: “Or you can decide to be happy.”

Leslie Shay: Where is this going?

Gabby Dawson: Uh, at first, I… I wasn’t sure about Mills, right? Was

                            he too young? Was I just rebounding? Did we

                            move too fast? But then I realised, damn it, he’s

                            good to me. Be happy.

Leslie Shay: So you love him ‘cause you choose to?

Gabby Dawson: [laughs] No. Because I do.

Leslie Shay: Aw. My little Dawson’s all grown up.

Gabby Dawson: Oh, shut up.

Leslie Shay: What about the mom thing?

Gabby Dawson: I don’t know.

                                    [ambo door shuts]

                                [station alert & buzzes]

(Over PA): Ambulance 61. Man down from unknown causes.

Gabby Dawson: Looks like it’s one of those days.

                                        [siren wails]

                         [thunder rumbling, siren blares]

Gabby Dawson: Hey there, bud. How you doing?

                            Hey.

                            His pulse is fast. Let’s sit him down and check his

                            heart rate. Come on.

                            All right.

Leslie Shay: Oh.

Gabby Dawson: Here we go, bud. All right.

Leslie Shay: Okay… Virgilio Ventura. Welcome back, pal.

Victim 2 (Virgilio): [groans]

Gabby Dawson: You had a couple cocktails today?

Leslie Shay: No, I think something a little heavier. What’s your

                      flavour, Virg? A little H?

                      Huh. He’s clean. What’s up with you, buddy?

Gabby Dawson: Okay.

                                    [monitor beeping rapidly]

Gabby Dawson: His heart rate’s racing at 150. He’s in SVT. We’re

                            gonna lose him if we don’t stabilise his rhythm.

                                             [shirt ripping]

Gabby Dawson: Cardioverting at 100. Stand back.

Leslie Shay: Dawson, wait! His ears. Look at his ears. Look.

Gabby Dawson: Shay, he’s got an electrical burn.

                                           [clothes ripping]

Leslie Shay: His shoe’s missing. It’s a third degree burn. He’s got

                     an exit wound.

Gabby Dawson: He was hit by lightning. We can’t shock him. His

                            heart’s had too much trauma. 6 mils of adenosine.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, yeah!

                                   [monitor continues beeping]

Gabby Dawson: Hang in there. Hang in there.

Leslie Shay: Okay.

                      Ready when you are. On three. One, two, push.

                                          [monitor flatlines]

Victim 2 (Virgilio): [gasps]

Leslie Shay: Okay, it bought us some time. Let’s get him out of

                      here.

                                                cutscene

                                        [thunder in distance]

Christopher Herrmann: What is it?

Chief Boden: Ah, nothing. Rough shift.

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah.

                                            [car door shuts]

Christopher Herrmann: Hey, what are you doing for dinner tonight?

                                         I’m doing all the cooking now that Cindy’s

                                         in the home stretch. So it’s either gonna

                                         be pizza or steak. It’s your call.

Chief Boden: Well, I can never turn down a Herrmann steak.

Christopher Herrmann: All right. Great.

                                         Bring the beer, all right?

Chief Boden: I will.

Christopher Herrmann: All right.

Chief Boden: Thanks.

Peter Mills: Hey! Excuse me, Chief! Um, I was wondering, can I pick

                     up a couple shifts next week? Maybe pull 48?

                     These-These Squad classes are breaking the

                      bank, so… I just need the extra money.

Chief Boden: What did your Lieutenant say?

Peter Mills: Check with you.

Chief Boden: Well, we can make that happen.

Peter Mills: Yeah?

Chief Boden: I’ll talk to second watch.

Peter Mills: Thank you.

Chief Boden: Okay.

Kelly Severide: I’m not exactly one to sit on my hands, you know.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, well, you shouldn’t.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, well, that’s not what the CFD is advising.

                           I’m running out of options here, Shay.

Leslie Shay: I’m telling you, the more I think about it, the more I

                     think that she targeted you specifically. She knew

                     your background, and she took what, all of two

                     seconds to start flirting up a storm? Anyone do a

                     background check on her?

Kelly Severide: I’ve-I’ve been on my heels this whole time, no.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, exactly. It’s time to turn it around, go on the

                      offensive.

                                       [car door shuts]

                                        [engine starts]

                                            cutscene

Gabby Dawson: You thinking about jumping?

Peter Mills: Hey.

Gabby Dawson: Hey.

Peter Mills: You made it.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, bearing carbs.

Peter Mills: I see.

Gabby Dawson: Hey.

                                         [kissing sound]

Gabby Dawson: What is it?

Peter Mills: You never answered my question. I know that I’m… I’m

                     moving too fast. I…

Gabby Dawson: Peter. I love you too.

Peter Mills: Really?

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, really.

Peter Mills: [chuckles]

Gabby Dawson: I just got one question for you. Am I gonna have to

                            borrow Antonio’s pickup, or are you gonna help me

                            move?

Peter Mills: I will help you move.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, that’s what I thought.

                                        [kissing sounds]

                                             cutscene

Antonio Dawson: Hey.

Kelly Severide: Hey, man. Thanks for meeting me.

Antonio Dawson: You sure you know what you’re doing?

Kelly Severide: Tsk. Like I told you on the phone, I’m-I’m feeling out

                           of options.

Antonio Dawson: Well, it might be worse than you think. I called the

                               Assistant State’s Attorney. That Rutkowski’s

                               testimony landed, and they won’t be accused of

                               playing favourites for a firefighter. They’re gonna

                               approve criminal charges. I ran a background

                               check on Tara Little. She worked at an ad

                               agency. There were criminal charges filed and

                               then withdrawn.

Kelly Severide: Against her?

Antonio Dawson: No. A fellow employee there named Clay White.

                              There’s an address in there.

Kelly Severide: I appreciate it.

Antonio Dawson: If I was smart, I’d tell you to let a lawyer handle it

                              from here.

                                             cutscene

                                          [bell chimes]

Man 2: May I help you?

Kelly Severide: Are you Clay White?

Man 2 (Clay White): I am.

Kelly Severide: I was told to talk to you about Tara Little.

Man 2 (Clay White): A-Anything you wanna say about her, you can

                                 tell my lawyer. Now get the hell out.

Kelly Severide: It’s… it’s not like that. I-I need your help.

Man 2 (Clay White): I was a mid-level executive at Ramsey-Cole, a

                                  high-end ad agency on Michigan Avenue. Tara

                                  was one of 20 graphic designers we had on

                                  staff. Tara and I had hit it off. Was it

                                  inappropriate? She was game, and I wasn’t

                                  married. It was all consensual. We had some

                                  fun but went in different directions, ended

                                  totally civil. Then we lost an account. The

                                  rumour mill started flying about downsizing.

                                  Next thing I know, Tara makes a claim, says I

                                  took advantage of her, it was a hostile working

                                  environment. I was fired and ostracised by the

                                  whole industry.

                                  I’ve got an MBA [chuckles]

                                  And this is what I do to pay my mortgage. She

                                  got a nice settlement from what I heard.

Kelly Severide: Sounds familiar. Would you consider coming

                          forward?

Man 2 (Clay White): I signed a non-disclosure agreement, so she’d

                                  drop the criminal charges.

Kelly Severide: You didn’t answer my question.

                                              cutscene

Hallie Thomas: Let me take a look at him

Patient (Miranda): [winces]

Hallie Thomas: Wow. What happened?

Patient (Miranda): [sighs] I was texting on my phone, and I walked

                                into a damn tree.

Hallie Thomas: Oh, that’s a new one. All right, I’m gonna walk you

                          back to a bed, where we can get that thumb set.

                          You can walk with me?

Patient (Miranda): Yeah.

Hallie Thomas: No texting while you do it.

                                          [chuckling]

Hallie Thomas: One sec.

                           Thanks.

                                       [door buzzes]

Hallie Thomas: Hey.

Matt Casey: You used to always drop by the firehouse with lunch,

                      so… I’m returning the favour, if you have time.

Doctor (Margaret): Got you covered.

Hallie Thomas: Come on.

                                       [door buzzes]

Hallie Thomas: I’ll show you around.

Matt Casey: Okay.

Hallie Thomas: We have five beds. But we can stuff eight in here if

                           we need to.

Matt Casey: All right.

Hallie Thomas: Um, a couple of visitation rooms, a couple of

                          offices. There’s where we keep the meds. This is

                          our bathroom. One bathroom, mind you, for all of

                          us, including the patients.

Man 3: Hallie.

Hallie Thomas: Oh, Steven Goody. He started the clinic. This is

                           my… this is Matt.

Man 3 (Steven Goody): Hey. Nice to meet you.

                                        Listen, Hallie, do you think you could help

                                        us out on Sunday, maybe, uh, noon to

                                        5:00-ish? Dr. Arend can’t make it.

Hallie Thomas: Yeah, I think so. I just have to check my schedule

                           over at Lakeshore.

Man 3 (Steven Goody): Great. Just let me know, okay?

                                        Nice to meet you, Matt.

Matt Casey: You too.

Hallie Thomas: One sec.

                                          [door buzzes]

Hallie Thomas: Huh. That’s weird.

Woman 3 (Bridgette): What?

Hallie Thomas: Uh, well…

Woman 3 (Bridgette): Oh, yeah, I know about this. I’ll take care of it.

Hallie Thomas: Okay.

Matt Casey: Everything good?

Hallie Thomas: Yeah. I’m starving. Let’s go.

Matt Casey: You really like it here?

Hallie Thomas: Yes. When I was away, I remembered why I got into

                           medicine in the first place. I remembered a lot of

                           things I wanted to reclaim for myself when I

                           returned.

                                              [laughter]

                                              cutscene

                                    [overlapping chatter]

                              [video game in background]

Christopher Herrmann: All right.

Herrmann Kids: Look it, look, look, right there.

Christopher Herrmann: I won! Yes! Turn that thing up. Screw the

                                         neighbours [chuckles]

Chief Boden: Uh, uh, no, no. Doing the dishes is my specialty.

Cindy Herrmann: You’re sweet, Wallace.

Chief Boden: Anyway, ain’t you supposed to be in bed?

Cindy Herrmann: You think I’m going to trust Chris alone with those

                               monsters?

Herrmann & Boden: [laughs]

Chief Boden: Get outta here.

Boden & Cindy: [chuckles]

                                     [glass bottles clinking]

Christopher Herrmann: So?

Chief Boden: So?

                       Okay. I, uh… I think I’m losing the respect of an

                        important man in the house.

Christopher Herrmann: Severide?

Chief Boden: Between this Benny and this Tara thing… I think he

                       thinks I’m the bad guy here.

Christopher Herrmann: Eh. What’s that you always say? “Leaders

                                         lead from the front.”

Chief Boden: Yeah. Sounds like me.

Christopher Herrmann: Up front can be lonely, that’s for sure.

                                        But… it goes with the territory, don’t it?

Chief Boden: Yeah. Thanks.

                                       [bottles clink]

Chief Boden: Again.

                                           cutscene

Matt Casey: Otis. Ready to lay claim to your undies?

                                          [chuckling]

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, you wish.

Mouch: Just come clean, Otis. No one will judge you. This is a safe

              room.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs] You know what? No. I-I can’t stand to look

                           at these another shift.

All: Oh!

                                           [laughter]

Mouch: That’s it. Now I know they’re yours.

                             [station alert blares & buzzes]

(Over PA): Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61. Vehicle accident.

                                        [sirens wailing]

                                         [horn honking]

Woman 4 (Bystander): The Taurus there was just pulling out of the

                                       hotel parking lot, when, bam! The trailblazer

                                       hit it straight on.

Matt Casey: Thank you.

Kelly Severide: We’re on the trailblazer.

                           He’s DOA.

                                           [indistinct chatter]

Matt Casey: Ma’am, try not to move until we get you collared and

                      braced.

Victim 3 (Lady): I need the report to say we’re just co-workers, and

                           we were coming from a lunch when that jackass hit

                            us!

Matt Casey: We don’t report that kind of stuff, ma’am.

Victim 3 (Lady): I gotta get out of here.

Matt Casey: Ma’am, you need to remain still.

                      I need that collar!

Peter Mills: Here you go, Lieutenant.

Matt Casey: Thanks.

Chief Boden: (into radio) Struts, wedges, and cribbing. Stabilise that

                       car so you can get that woman out.

Kelly Severide: You heard him. Get that cribbing in place. Capp,

                           centre part!

                                        [glass shattering]

Kelly Severide: Get it piped down. How are we on the other side?

                                         [metal clanging]

Joe Cruz: Almost there.

Chief Boden: Good. Let’s cut that roof away.

                                        [machine whirring]

Kelly Severide: Watch for sparks.

                           Roof’s clear.

Christopher Herrmann: C-collar.

Leslie Shay: Copy that. Flying in.

Kelly Severide: All right, you ready?

Leslie Shay: Take her out as straight as possible.

Victim 3 (Lady): Where are you taking me?

Gabby Dawson: Lakeshore.

Victim 3 (Lady): Will you call my husband and tell him you found me

                           by myself?

Gabby Dawson: Ma’am, you’re gonna have to take that up with the

                            doctors at the hospital.

Victim 4 (Man): [groans]

Kelly Severide: Hey, I’m gonna need you to cover for me for an hour

                           when we get back to the station.

Harold Capp: You got it.

                                            cutscene

Tara Little: You’re supposed to stay away from me.

Kelly Severide: Am I?

Tara Little: [scoffs] You’re finished. You hear me? I am about to

                   scream so loud.

Man 2 (Clay White): Hi, Tara.

Tara Little: [scoffs] He can’t. He signed…

Kelly Severide: A non-disclosure and confidentiality agreement?

                          What else can you take away from him? I checked

                          with the union attorney, and it turns out in cases of

                          fraud, the courts don’t care much about those

                          agreements.

Tara Little: Fraud?

Kelly Severide: Maybe we take you to criminal court, get testimony

                          on the record or you retract your lie, quit this job.

                          We never see each other again.

                                            cutscene

Woman 2: Excuse me.

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah.

Woman 2: Hi. Um, I was the one that asked about the pictures.

Christopher Herrmann: Aw, yeah, of course. How are you?

Woman 2: Hi.

Christopher Herrmann: Hey.

Woman 2: Uh, this is my husband, Roger…

Christopher Herrmann: Hey Roger.

Man 4 (Roger): Hey.

Woman 2: And our daughter, Charlotte.

Christopher Herrmann: Aw.

Woman 2: Would you mind?

Christopher Herrmann: Naw, no. No problem at all. Come on

                                        Charlotte. I’ll show you around here.

                                        Come on.

                                        How old is she now?

Joe Cruz: One, two, three.

Woman 2: Uh, 12.

Christopher Herrmann: That’s incredible.

Joe Cruz: Tighter, tighter.

Woman 2: Yeah, plus today is her birthday. So here we are. She’s

                   really something.

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah.

Joe Cruz: Hey, one more. Let’s do one more. Everybody smile…

                  hold it.

Christopher Herrmann: Hey, do you have a few minutes. Because I

                                        think we can do something a little better

                                        than a couple of photos.

Joe Cruz: Great.

Woman 2: Sure.

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah? All right.

Woman 2: [laughs]

Joe Cruz: Get in there.

Woman 2: Okay.

Christopher Herrmann: Hey, Chief. We got a kid’s birthday party in

                                        the common room, and they’d like to see

                                         you.

Chief Boden: You tell little Danny or Billy or Leo happy birthday for

                        me, but I have a mountain of paperwork that I need

                        to get through.

Christopher Herrmann: This one’s important, Chief.

Chief Boden: Okay, where are the other kids?

Christopher Herrmann: Well, it’s not that kind of party, Chief.

Joe Cruz: Later I’ll grab all the guys from the truck, take a picture

                 together.

Chief Boden: Hey.

Girl (Charlotte): Are you Chief Boden?

Chief Boden: Yes I am. And are you the birthday girl?

Girl (Charlotte): Yeah.

Chief Boden: And um, what’s your name?

Girl (Charlotte): Charlotte.

Chief Boden: Charlotte. And how old are you, Charlotte?

Girl (Charlotte): 12.

Chief Boden: Well, Charlotte, happy birthday [chuckles]

Girl (Charlotte): Do you recognise me?

Chief Boden: Um, I’m… I’m sorry. No, I don’t.

Girl (Charlotte): 12 years ago today, I was left on the doorstep of

                            this firehouse. He said you were the fireman

                            who found me.

Chief Boden: I always wondered what happened to you.

Girl (Charlotte): I was adopted. I live in Indiana now.

Chief Boden: Look at you. Don’t you look great?

Woman 2: She’s always wanted the truth.

Girl (Charlotte): When my mom and dad told me where I came

                           from, I had to come here.

Chief Boden: And I am very glad that you did.

Girl (Charlotte): Thank you.

Chief Boden: No, thank you, Charlotte. ‘Cause you have made this

                       Chief… a very happy man today.

Christopher Herrmann: Okay. Here we go.

All: Happy birthday to you; Happy birthday to you; Happy birthday

       dear Charlotte; Happy birthday to you.

                                [applause and cheering]

                                            cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: You’ll still pay a $20 bounty on these briefs?

Mouch: If you’re ready to admit they’re yours.

Otis Zvonecek: You wanna know something curious? I looked at

                           the tag here. Interesting that they’re a Japanese

                           brand of underwear not sold in the United States.

                           Japanese. The same language you’ve been

                           studying.

Mouch: That… that doesn’t…

Otis Zvonecek: Japanese. The same proverbs you’ve been

                           spouting for weeks, one of which you used to

                           fleece me out of 20 bones.

Mouch: Fine.

Otis Zvonecek: [chuckles] Thank you… very much.

Mouch: [sighs] Go ahead. Go, tell everyone. Get a good laugh.

Otis Zvonecek: Oh, I will. I will.

Mouch: I’ve been dating a Japanese woman. I’m doing everything I

              can to impress her, because quite frankly, I’m not getting

              any younger. Now, she mailed me the underwear as a gift.

              So that’s a good sign, right?

Otis Zvonecek: Wait, wait. Mailed? From where?

Mouch: Well, we’ve been uh… our relationship is, uh… we haven’t

              actually met yet.

Otis Zvonecek: An Internet girlfriend.

Mouch: I’ve talked to her on the phone…

Otis Zvonecek: Hmm.

Mouch: A lot.

Otis Zvonecek: Right, right. How much have you spent on her?

Mouch: Eh, not much.

             Yeah a little.

Otis Zvonecek: [chuckles]

Mouch: Please don’t bust my balls on this, Otis.

              Otis!

                                               cutscene

Chief Boden: Hey, just the man I was coming to find. I don’t know if

                       you’ve heard, but miraculously, Tara Little has quit the

                       fire service and recanted her testimony against you.

Kelly Severide: Did she?

Chief Boden: What’d you do?

Kelly Severide: Well, I-I…

Chief Boden: You know what? I’d rather not know.

Kelly Severide: It was on the up-and-up, Chief. I promise you that.

Chief Boden: Kelly. Throughout all this, never doubted you. I want

                        you to know that. Just had to be a Chief.

Kelly Severide: I know. I appreciate it.

                                             cutscene

Gabby Dawson: Can we talk?

Peter Mills: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: Uh, not here.

Peter Mills: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: Apparently, it happened during a time when your

                            mom and dad were already separated. Boden 

                            and Ingrid got together, but Boden backed away

                            as soon as he found out that your dad and mom

                            might reconcile. And I didn’t know what to do

                            with the information. And I didn’t think that it

                            was my place to tell you, so I just sat on it. But

                             the more I thought about how close you were 

                             getting, the more I thought that maybe I should-I

                             should just tell you, so…

Peter Mills: Boden and my mom? [sighs]

                    And you knew about this how long?

Gabby Dawson: Since the big banquet.

Peter Mills: [sighs]

Gabby Dawson: Look, I know I should’ve told you sooner. I know it.

                            But you have to see it from my point of view.

Peter Mills: Oh, do I? Is that what I need to do, Dawson?

Gabby Dawson: Peter, I’m sorry. If I’d have known you’d have this

                            kind of reaction, I would’ve just come right home

                            and told you then.

Peter Mills: But you didn’t, okay?

Gabby Dawson: I didn’t know.

Peter Mills: Yeah. I need to be alone.

                                [station alarm buzzes & blares]

(Over PA): Truck 81, Squad 3, Engine 51, Ambulance 61. Building

                   fire, 3331 West Halsted Road.

Matt Casey: That’s Hallie’s clinic.

                                        [horn honking]

                                        [sirens wailing]

Matt Casey: Oh God.

                                   [indistinct radio chatter]

Kelly Severide: Let’s go! Why aren’t those hydrants open yet?

Christopher Herrmann: We’re gonna need this vented. Get that

                                         aerial to the roof.

Police Officer (Nicole Sermons): My partner, Barnes, he went in

                                                       further. He found a woman, but he

                                                       couldn’t get to her.

Matt Casey: Hey. Back door is there.

Kelly Severide: Fan out! Look for victims. I’ll stick with Casey.

                                           [coughing]

Police Officer (Jim Barnes): [coughs] I couldn’t reach her!

Matt Casey: Where?

Police Officer (Jim Barnes): [coughs]

Matt Casey: Get him out of here!

Police Officer (Jim Barnes): [coughing]

                                     [siren wailing]

Police Officer (Jim Barnes): [groans]

                               [ambulance beeping]

                                    [car door shuts]

Kelly Severide: Fire department! Call out!

Matt Casey: Hallie!

                               [metal cage shaking]

Matt Casey: Hallie!

Chief Boden: (into radio) This is an oven. Everyone out!

                                  [metal clanging]

Mouch: Hallie’s in there.

Police Officer (Jim Barnes): Who?

Leslie Shay: His girl.

Matt Casey: Hallie!

Chief Boden: (into radio) Casey, where are you?

Matt Casey: No! No! No!

                     [whimpers & groans]

                                  [wood creaking & splitting]

                                                [explosion]

Chief Boden: (into radio) Casey, where the hell are you?

                       (into radio) Casey. Casey!

                                       [explosion continues]

Chief Boden: (into radio) Talk to me. Where the hell are you?

Kelly Severide: We got her! We’re coming out!

Chief Boden: [sighs]

Gabby Dawson: Get oxygen on her and into the ambulance now.

Police Officer (Jim Barnes): We’ll lead the way.

Matt Casey: I’m coming.

                                        [ambo door shuts]

                                             [sirens wail]

Matt Casey: [heavy breathing] Breathe, Hallie. Breathe.

                      Damn it, baby. Breathe.

                      Come on! Breathe.

                      Breathe. Damn it, girl.

                      Breathe.

                                      [ambo door shuts]

                                        [sombre music]

Matt Casey: [sniffles]

                     [sobbing]

                     No!

                     No! [sobs & wails]

                                              - end -

Definitions:

D&D = Drunk and Disorderly

K-12 = Fire/Rescue saw. It can be used for forcible entry, ventilation, USAR (Urban Search and Rescue – technical rescue operation that involves the location, extrication, and initial medical stabilisation of victims trapped in an urban area, namely structural collapse due to natural disasters, mines and collapsed trenches), RIC (Rapid Intervention Crew - team of two or more firefighters dedicated solely to the search and rescue of other firefighters in distress), and vehicle extrication

Sawzall = Term often used to describe any brand of reciprocating saw. These saws cut in a back and forth motion, similar to a handsaw that’s just downed four espressos

EMS Plan 2 = 5 Ambulances, 1 Paramedic Field Chief, 1 Deputy District Chief, 1 Command Van, 1 Triage Van, Media Affairs Unit

SVT = Supraventricular tachycardia (SVT) is a condition where your heart suddenly beats much faster than normal

Cardioverting = An electrical cardioversion is a treatment which aims to get your abnormal heart rhythm (arrhythmia) back to a normal pattern. It’s done by sending controlled electric signals to your heart through electrodes placed on the chest

Adenosine = Used to bring your heart back into a normal rhythm

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (5)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters:  Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

START  / RREV / NEXT

Ms Iroi always tries to engage him in conversation whenever she comes in, asking questions and chatting to herself in a fruitless attempt at helping him recover his 'lost' memories. Most of the time, Kakashi is indifferent to her presence and always has a magazine handy as an excuse not to talk.

Today, Iroi is in a particularly good mood, humming to herself, greeting him with an energetic, “How are you doing today!”

Kakashi grunts a noncommittal response which doesn’t do much to discourage the woman’s good mood as she runs through a check-up routine.  

“You should try watching U.A’s sports festival tomorrow. I hear it’s going to be particularly spectacular this year,” she says as she pulls the blinds on Kakashi's window, blocking out the distant city lights. 

U.A? he recognises the name. Kakashi glances up over the pages of HERO!! MONTHLY BREAKDOWN. It is the third time he has read this issue.

“You know, since you like reading those hero magazines, I figured you would be interested in watching the ‘next generation of heroes’ debut,” she continues, noting his attention, “U.A always puts on a good show.”

Kakashi frowns. The problem with his amnesia cover story is that he is still trying to figure out what he can get away with not remembering. So far the doctor’s seem content to chalk up the disappearance of his long term memories to a ‘quirk’ accident but were always more concerned when he failed to recall basic factual information. Something to do with different parts of the brain being responsible for different types of information.

 “Watch how?” He settles on asking. U.A. was supposed to be a hero-training academy so whatever this ‘sports festival’ was was worth checking out. 

“Oh,” Iori pauses to think, “I, ah, think channel 2 with be covering it?” she hesitates, “You know what. I’ll look it up and let you know later. Sorry, I can’t carry my phone around with me while on shift.”

“Thank you.” He smiles and makes a show of returning to his magazine to dissuade further conversation.

Later the same evening, just before the end of the evening shift, Iori pokes her head into his room again. She is out of uniform, long hair untired, waving to catch his attention.

“The coverage is on channel 2 and starts at 11am,” She holds up her portable communication devise like it means something.  It probably did mean something. The frequency by which people checked them suggested it had a function beyond basic communication. He has held off attempting to steal one because, unlike pens, people would notice and care if one went missing.  

“Have fun watching! Oh… also, I forgot to ask…”

Kakashi raises a brow.

“I have a bunch of old gossip magazines. Mum used to read them all the time and there are a few hero-themed ones in the mix. I can bring them in if you want more stuff to read.” 

“If you want.” Iori must have noticed him re-reading the magazines. 

"I'll bring them on Friday!"

Iori had been unsubtly hinting that Kakashi might have had a history in heroics. It definitely wasn’t because reading information on a page just made sense when compared to the barrage of conflicting reports the television gave him. A few weeks with only the television as his information source has him writing off most of its information as useless or propaganda.  

…

...

“HEELLLOOOOO, LISTENERS!”

Kakashi stares dully as the video footage, which had been giving him a bird’s eye view of a positively massive stadium, changes to a sweeping shot of what must be thousands of people crammed into seats. It almost makes him claustrophobic just watching it.

“WELLCOME TO OUR ANNUAL U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL! THE HIGH SCHOOL ADOLESCENT RODEO YOU ALL LOVE TO WATCH. CAN A GET A ‘OH YEAH!’”

As if of one mind, thousands of people leap to their feet screaming. The camera angle changes again to show a grinning blond-haired man, seated at a desk and pointing enthusiastically at the camera. All these shot changes are going to give him a headache. Kakashi is already having reservations watching this and its only10 minutes.

“Thank you! You’re an AMAZING audience!”

 It almost reminds him of the final Chunin Exam stages -if the Chunin exams had had three times the audience - which always involved some sort of combat display.  There hadn’t been any public Chunin Exams recently for reasons such as a large portion of Konoha being flattened by Pein.

“FIRST UP ARE OUR FIRST-YEAR EVENTS! And what an exciting round of events they are, perfect for debuting our newest students! Give us a shout so they can feel your support!”

Another loud shot as thousands of people yelled in unison.

“Come on! Louder than that! These are your future Heroes I’m talking about! SHOW THEM SOME LOVE!”

More yelling. Kakashi turns down the volume.

“But! Wait just a minute!! We're not only here for our Hero students! As I'm sure you all know, behind every great hero is a hardworking support team! GIVE IT UP FOR our Support, Management and General departments who are also competing for a chance to face off in the finals!”

Kakashi sighs. He is getting the sense that this might be more for entertainment than utility purposes, conforming to the general trend of Hero-related stuff being flashy. Different from the Chunin exam which had deadly consequences if not taken seriously.

“Hey. Hey! HERE THEY COME NOW! OUR STUDENTS PARTICIPATING IN THE FIRST YEAR STAGE!”

What follows is an overly dramatized race where the only thing of interest to him are the obstacle types, including robots, - mobile mechanical weapons of some sort that produced a lot of environmental damage but were taken down fairly easily- and explosive devices that acted a lot like explosive tags. Then there was a team elimination round and one-on-one tournament fights after which the coverage shifts to the second year and third year stages.

He uncovers the sharingun only to discover that, while its memorisation function worked fine, the part that translated the movements into muscle memory felt off. Perhaps, the replication and copying component of the eye didn’t work when viewing a technique through a screen rather than in person. Interesting. As there wasn't anything particularly impressive technique-wise during the events he counts the new information as a net gain. 

The student-heroes – he is not sure if there is an official term for a hero in training – barely match Konoha’s academy standard in their taijutsu and physical conditioning though there was marked improvement between first, second and third-year groups. These students were what...between 14-18 years old...and yet most had the skill level of an academy  students and fresh genuin with only a few notable exceptions?

Sure, there were - honestly ridiculous- versatile and powerful bloodline abilities being thrown around like nothing, but ninjutsu techniques only took a shinobi so far without a strong base to work from. He shakes his head, reminding himself that these kids - because what else did you call combatants who hadn’t graduated yet- weren’t shinobi in training and would be policing civilians and engaging ‘Villains’ of similar skill levels. It was obvious that the students favoured non-lethal takedown methods and put little to no thought into stealth and misdirection during fights. 

Different words…different priorities. 

As Kakashi has yet to see any evidence that the country, Japan, was at war with another he thinks the skill level displayed might be serviceable. There were also no major conflicts between the country’s large cities over farmland, water sources and the like. Obviously, this place had sorted out the resource and distribution issues usually encountered when supporting such large populations. Or, who knows, maybe everything on the television was a carefully constructed lie to lull people into complacency.

Now he has seen an example of hero-students, he better understands the low combat ability demonstrated by the police. It also gives incite into the blurry recordings of Hero/Villain confrontations which played on repeat across the various ‘news’ reports. They all tended to hover around Chunin or maybe Special Jounin in terms of skill. He knows generalisations are dangerous so, until he saw the combat in person, he would exercise his usual level of caution. There were bound to be outliers after all-the impressive brute strength of the number one hero comes to mind- and there was no telling what advantages a bloodline ability might provide. Absently, he makes testing the susceptibly of people without chakra to genjustu as something to figure out sooner rather than later.

He sighs. This is why he hated the television. Whenever he watched it, he came away increasingly confused, with more questions than he had answers. Not to mention anything useful being constantly interrupted with information detailing one of the many products that he could apparently buy here. It irritated him to no end. 

...

...

The chakra collecting seal is ready before the week is out. Mostly ready...it was ready enough.

Kakashi returns to the roof. Sitting cross-legged, back against the stairway entrance, he works his way through the 100 or so pens, cracking them open and tapping out ink into a large bowl, stolen -like the pens -from hospital staff.

The mix of black, blue and red ink is gluggy, forcing him to add water to thin the solution out. Once satisfied he pulls out an appropriated scalpel – one of a growing collection hidden alongside his pens because having a stash of weapons is never a bad thing- pricking his middle finger, watching the blood drip and curdle with the mixture. The blood would be absorbed into the ink, allowing it to conduct chakra. He mixes everything with pair of disposable chopsticks, taking care not to spill it on the ground or stain his hands.

The whole process reminds him of other insistences where he had improvised fuinjutsu ink in the field. The last time being during his final Anbu missions where he had created a body storage scroll from scratch after unexpectedly losing a squad mate on what should have been a simple intel retrieval mission. Not a particularly fond memory but a memory he was stuck with.

Since his demotion to Jonin-sensei there had been fewer of those sorts of missions. Not that being a Jonin-sensei had been easy – considering all his students had gone off to find other teachers he didn't even think he had been particularly good at it - bringing with it its own special brand of stress, culminating in a stint as Hokage, a fourth war and him stuck here. He is pretty sure his experiences aren't universal. Team 7 was just cursed to fail in increasingly spectacular ways.

He lets out a heavy sigh, leaving his airways open to a sudden gust of cold wind which carries the scent of cleaning chemicals from the hospital and oil from the road straight up his nose. He exhales forcefully and mentally bumps finding a face mask up his list of priorities. It would be good for hiding his features and dulling the artificial smells of a city housing over a million people.

The sound of wind whistling around the building almost blocks out the echo of feet in the stairway, approaching his location. In one smooth motion, Kakashi stands pushing the remaining broken pen back into the vent, nudging the cover back in place with his foot. Carefully he holds the bowl of ink in his injured arm and a scalpel in the other. Kakashi steps back against the entrance so the outward opening door would hide him from whoever came out.

A crying kid comes barrelling through the door.

Well, not completely crying, more like sniffing loudly, eyes all shiny. He even recognises the kid from the U.A combat demonstration, as improbable as that was. It is the first year hero student with the speed-enhancing ability which, seeing him up close, probably had something to do with the strange growths coming out of his caff muscles. High speed movement put enormous strain on the body so he could reasonably conclude that the kid was physically resilient to acceleration stress and similar forces. Not resilient to stabbing though....

Kakashi forces himself to relax, his scalpel lowering ever so slightly. Lucky he had heard the kid coming or he might have accidentally hurt him. A few weeks of reduced sleep coupled with a lot of time to ruminate on past missions and failures has put him on edge. This was exactly why he disliked taking extended breaks. 

Maybe, Kakashi should start relocking the stairway if he was planning to make regular trips up here because the young male probably hadn’t had the roof in mind as a destination. Kakashi knows from experience that, unless you were injured or a member of staff, there were few good reasons to wander around a hospital at odd hours.

With the hero-student distracted sniffling into his arm, Kakashi slips around the door and back down the stairs. He hadn’t planned on applying the seal on the roof anyway. Too exposed to the elements and the concrete was too rough for the delicate line work.

He continues mixing while he walks, having mentally mapped the hospital well enough to know which hallways to use and which to avoid. There is a surgeon with some sort of heat-sensing vision who works late most nights that he must be careful around and a nurse with a weak proximity based empathic ability working in paediatrics. Both obstacles force him to take a meandering detour on his way to the ground floor and  the larger shower blocks which housed  cubicles the size of small rooms. Enough smooth floorspace for the expanded seal design and easy to clean afterwards. He supposes he is lucky, some complicated fuinjutsu required several meters worth of floor space. The containment on Saskue’s cursed seal comes to mind and he is glad that this seal is infinity smaller.

Not one to waste time knowing that nurses and patients regularly used the space even this late in the evening, he immediately slips into a cubicle upon arrival. Flopping onto the floor he pulls out the paintbrush he had had scour the hospital for and eventually to steal from the children’s ward. Carefully, he begins the slow process of application.

…

…

The final seal design is circular, about the size of his splayed hand, positioned on his uninjured shoulder just above where his Anbu seal had previously sat. The sleepwear provided by the hospital had sleeves that extend just past his bicep. It hid the design, for the most part. The final visible seal is a bit bigger than he had predicted or planned for. If this were a proper infiltration mission, where blowing his cover came at the price of death, he would be in big trouble. If this were a proper mission, he would have waited before applying this. An unnecessary risk. He itches the back of his head, turning from where he is craning his neck to see the seal, gathering up his supplies to be thrown in one of the hospital’s many rubbish bins. Kakashi lets out a breath. Maybe, this whole ‘trapped in a different world’ thing is affecting him more than he was willing to admit and making him sloppy.

He pulls down the sleeve so it mostly hides the design. Not like the doctors here would recognise the significance of fuinjutsu, he reminds himself, even if their questions would be annoying to deflect.

He pumps chakra into the seal and a jolt akin to lightning runs down his limb. It activates without issue and Kakashi grimaces as his chakra is slowly drained and collected. The rate of the drain is pathetically slow. Three years too slow. But, between this and his sharingan - which was always active and draining chakra- he can’t risk making it quicker. Despite the relatively low-level threats around him, Kakashi is, first and foremost, a Jonin in an unknown territory who is already taking risks simply making and applying the seal. He can’t afford to impair himself with poor chakra management on top of everything else.

Kakashi pops his head out of the cubical, scanning the shower block. Nothing of note has changed and he darts out, intent on returning to his room. He is tired and it would be a long, tiresome week as his body adjusted to the strain as well.

NEXT  

[expectingtofly]

Incident at Playgroup

2.8k

fluff, established dean/cas, baby jack, human!cas, cas and dean terrorize other parents

dedicated to @thiscastielhasflown bc a few weeks ago we talked about tfw’s mcdonald’s orders and this fic happened. wishing you a good week with schoolwork assignments that only take half the time you expect them to, eventual restful sleep, and good grades <3

also posted on ao3

“Clown!” Jack yelled, pointing at the entrance to the McDonald’s indoor play area. A Ronald McDonald cardboard cutout guarded the door, holding a sign reading, You must be this tall to enter.

“Inside voice,” Dean said, though he wasn’t sure it mattered much when he could hardly hear himself speak. Recently, they’d joined a playgroup of parents and kids from Jack’s preschool, and this weekend, some of the moms had organized a playdate at the McDonald’s in town, one with a huge play area.

Meaning, they were now surrounded by screaming kids, diaper bags, and stressed out parents.

Dean winced as a kid shrieked from across the room. “We need to take a photo of you next to ol’ Ronald to show Sam.”

“Okay,” Jack agreed, jumping up and down in his chair.

Coming over with the tray of their food, Cas put out a hand to steady Jack’s chair. “That would be unnecessarily cruel."

Dean grabbed his Big Mac. “Yeah, well, he deserves it.” Before they’d come here today, Sam had repeatedly told them, quote, “please don't fuck this up again." Always was a polite bastard. “He’s gotta have more faith in us. What are we, amateurs?”

“Unfortunately, I believe that’s the point,” Cas said, sitting down and giving Jack his Happy Meal. “We don’t have the best track record with these sort of things.”

These ‘sort of things’ being playgroups. 

So, they’d tried a couple that hadn’t worked out. “Not like it’s our fault,” he said. “Take a seat, kid.” Jack ignored him, jumping in his seat as he waved to another toddler sitting nearby.

Cas beamed, holding onto the back of the chair. “He’s making friends, that’s a good sign.”

“Kid could make friends with a blank wall,” Dean said, but Cas was right—making friends was the whole point they were here. While Jack could make friends with just about anyone and anything—every crayon had a name and backstory, Cas’ trenchcoat was taken on make-believe-adventures, and the Impala could apparently talk, if Jack’s one-sided conversations during long car rides was anything to go off of—it was true that Jack was lacking in the friends-that-aren’t-hunters-or-over-a-decade-older category. There weren’t exactly many toddlers running around the bunker.

Hence, why they were spending their Saturday afternoon at the Hell on Earth known as McDonald's PlayPlace.

Jack held out the bag of apple slices that came in his Happy Meal. “Open.”

Dean stared him down and Jack added, “Peas.”

Close enough. Taking the bag, Dean told Cas, “Don’t look now, but Amanda is handing out brochures for Pampered Chef again.” According to Sam, that was another reason this playdate had to be a success—making friends with the right parents meant getting invited to more playdates and whatever other random events the parents came up with. It was like a weird society Dean had never known existed until Jack started preschool and started interacting with other kids his own age.

“I saw you using the food processor the other day,” Cas said, glancing over his shoulder to look despite Dean’s warning. Dean rolled his eyes. “I think it’s ingenious.”

“I’m not going to another two hour cooking demonstration.“

“Sam said we need to make a good impression.”

“He can go buy overpriced kitchen tools then.” It was a little too convenient that Sam had gotten out of taking Jack to this playdate—Dean had a suspicion that the multiple Ronald McDonalds stationed around had something to do with that.

He tried to hand Jack the apples, but Jack pointed at the play area. “Wanna play!”

“You have to finish your food,” Dean told him. Crossing his arms, Jack glared at him and stomped his foot on the chair.

“Just eat two more nuggets,” Cas told him. He picked up his filet-o-fish sandwich and glanced at Dean. “What?”

“You’re spoiling him.”

Jack stuffed his face with two chicken nuggets, which prompted Cas to give Dean a look. “Well, you’re teaching him bad table manners.”

Just to be obnoxious, Dean shoved half of his burger into his mouth in one bite. Jack laughed at him and Cas rolled his eyes.

“Done!” Jack announced, and Cas pushed his chair back so he could escape.

“These play places are gross,” Dean said, swallowing. “He’s gonna catch a disease.”

“Good thing he can’t get sick,” Cas said, watching Jack clamber up some stairs to reach a slide.

“Yeah, well I can,” Dean retorted. Jack went down the slide with a squeal. Landing at the bottom, he waved at them and Dean waved back.

“The Winchesters are here!” someone called too cheerily and Dean rolled his eyes, turning to see Ashley walking over. Lady thought she ran the group, always recruiting parents to bring snacks and toys to playdates. A little too high and mighty when Dean knew for a fact that the cupcakes she'd brought last week were store-bought.

Settling down into the seat next to them, she asked, “I wasn’t expecting you two today. Where’s Sam?”

Dean resisted rolling his eyes. Of course Sam was everyone’s favorite. Wasn’t his fault Sam was better at feigning interest in grocery lists and laundry piles. Parenting was hard enough without getting subjected to the unique torture of playgroup small talk.

“Him and Eileen went on a weekend trip,“ Cas answered easily and Dean nodded. They’d long given up trying to explain to others why Jack had a rotating list of parental figures accompanying him to playgroup, figuring if the other parents thought they were in a weird cult situation, at least that was better than them knowing the truth—like the fact that Sam and Eileen were away hunting a rugaru in Missouri. Though they were going to run out of excuses soon for why playgroup couldn’t be hosted at their place—an underground bunker with enough weapons to hold off an army.

“Well,” Ashley said, “I’m glad you guys were able to make it.” Yeah, that was a fake smile.

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Dean said, plastering on his own fake smile. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.” Cas kicked him under the table.

“We’ve loved having Jack in the group,” Ashley said, and that might not be a fake sentiment. Jack could charm anyone. “Such a sweetheart. Lily adores him.” She smiled at where Jack and her daughter Lily were crawling through a tunnel at the top of the play area.

“Jack, no!” Dean called, seeing Jack stick his fingers in his mouth. “I’m so getting sick,” he muttered under his breath.

He was trying to come up with an excuse to get away as Ashley pulled out her phone to show them a new post on her mommy blog—boring, same old content. Give him a blog and he’d actually have something interesting to say—when he heard familiar crying from across the play area.

Without a second thought, he was pushing back his chair and rushing over, squeezing past playing kids and their parents to find Jack sitting on the floor bawling his eyes out and a bigger kid standing over him.

“What the hell happened here?” he demanded. He went to pick up Jack, but Cas was already swooping in and grabbing him.

“He pushed me!” Jack managed through his sobs, and Dean turned on the older kid.

“What the hell’s your problem?” The kid’s baleful expression faltered. He took a step back and Dean advanced on him. “You get off on making kids half your size cry?”

“Don’t speak to my son that way!” someone exclaimed, pushing through the crowd of kids and parents to glare at them. “What’s going on?”

“Your son is a menace,” Cas told the woman—Denise. Playgroup gossip said her son had gotten held back from kindergarten due to his inability to ‘play nice with others.’ Jack’s crying had subdued to sniffles, but Cas still held onto him like he might break apart. “He was bullying our son.”

“I’m sure it was an accident.” She put her hand on the kid’s shoulder. “You didn’t mean to hurt him, right, Tommy?”

Tommy only glared at them, and Dean glared right back. “He needs to apologize to Jack,” Cas said.

“Tommy, apologize.”

After several long, drawn out seconds, Tommy muttered, looking down at his feet, “Sorry.”

“I don’t think that was a real apology,” Cas said.

“It’s not my fault Jack’s a crybaby,” Tommy shot back.

“You little—” Dean started

“Take that back,” Cas snapped, and if he wasn’t human, Dean would’ve expected his eyes to start glowing fiery blue. Denise’s eyes grew wide, her grip on Tommy’s shoulder tightening.

“Is there a problem here?” someone asked, and Dean turned to see a McDonald’s employee hurrying over.

“Yeah, this kid shoved our son,” Dean said. “And he’s being a little shit about it.”

The employee’s expression turned shocked and Dean heard a few gasps from the parents that had crowded around to see the commotion. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” the employee stammered. “This is a kid’s play area, we won’t tolerate fighting here.”

“We were already going,” Cas said haughtily. He glared at Denise. “And if 'Tommy' ever lays a hand on Jack again, he will be sorry.” Jack’s expression was eerily similar to Cas’ as they shot twin glares at Tommy, and Dean thought he caught a spark in Jack’s eyes.

“Let’s go,” he said, taking Cas’ elbow and guiding him through the crowd of spectators before Jack tried to incinerate the kid. He wasn’t sure if that was one of Jack’s powers or not, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out in a crowded McDonald’s. Even if the snot-nosed kid deserved it.

The staff behind the counter was watching along with everyone else in the store, the once noisy place now brought to tense stillness. Cas snatched up the rest of their food and Dean knew they were already on the verge of getting the cops called on them, but he couldn’t resist turning and jabbing his finger at the little brat. “And don’t you ever fucking touch Jack again!”

Cas shot Denise and Tommy another look, Jack copying it over his shoulder, and Dean let the door slam shut behind them.

“I can’t believe the audacity of that woman,” Cas raged, strapping Jack into his carseat. Dean grabbed the wipes and leaned over the front seat to wipe Jack’s hands before he touched everything and spread germs around. “And her kid is exactly the same!”

Jack craned his neck to look back at the McDonald’s as Cas finished strapping him in. “Play!”

Getting into the passenger seat, Cas slammed the door shut. “You will not be going back there, not when those children are around. Dean was right, these play places are vile.”

“You alright, kid?” Dean asked Jack, shutting the wipe container.

Jack kicked his feet against the seat. “Hungry.”

Cas pulled out the container of Jack’s half-eaten chicken nuggets and Dean protested, thinking of a fateful day with a bag of cheerios—he was still finding them in every nook and cranny of the car. “No eating in the backseat.”

“He’s just been through a traumatic experience,” Cas said, handing the container to Jack. “We can make an exception.”

“Fine,” Dean muttered, gripping the steering wheel as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I always knew Denise was shifty. You saw the way she was trying to spin the story, making it out like it wasn’t her kid’s fault? Fucking asshole.”

“Asshole!” Jack agreed cheerfully from the backseat.

“That’s not a nice word, Jack,” Cas said. Quieter, he added, “But it’s accurate.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m gonna send a message to the playgroup chat. Tommy’s behavior can’t be tolerated. Soon all the kids are going to become bullies.”

“He needs to be taught a lesson,” Dean agreed, glancing at Jack as he stopped at a red light, trying not to flinch at the crumbs on Jack’s lap that threatened to fall to the floor. “Needs to get knocked down by someone. Hear that, Jack? We’re gonna teach you how to fight back.”

Jack nodded. “I can fight!” He waved a chicken nugget around in mock punches and Dean gave up any hope of keeping the backseat clean.

“Maybe we can convince the other parents to kick Denise and her son out of the—Oh.” Dean looked over at him and Castiel winced. “We’ve been blocked from the group chat.”

“That makes three of them,” Dean muttered, pushing the accelerator as the light turned green. “We’re gonna end up on some blacklist soon.”

First playgroup, Jack had set a couch on fire. Since the "baby god testing out his powers” explanation wasn’t gonna fly, they went with the tried and true, “playing with matches” excuse. Didn’t stop the group from voting to kick them out.

Second playgroup, Cas had gotten in a fiery debate over the ethicality of beekeeping, and what was Dean supposed to do? Not back him up? He hadn't known you could get kicked out of the zoo for "disorderly conduct."

Alright, maybe Sam’s fears that they’d fuck up this playdate too weren’t completely off base.

“I think it’s time we give playgroups a rest,” he decided.

"But Jack needs to make friends."

"He's already got us, and Claire and Kaia and Alex and—"

"Charlie!" Jack added from the backseat.

"Charlie," Dean agreed. "He's got plenty of friends." Cas only stared him down with a particular smitey look in his eyes, and though Dean knew there wasn't a real threat behind the gaze, he sighed. "Fine. We’ll try again.”

"I already had one in mind," Cas said, brightening. "In case this one didn't work out."

“Done!” Jack yelled.

“Inside voice,” Dean said automatically. “Wait, you had a backup plan?"

“Yes,” Cas said, taking the empty container of chicken nuggets from Jack. “I thought it wise considering our track record. It’s a smaller group than this one was—Here, Jack, you want my ice cream?”

“Dude, seriously?” Dean protested as Cas handed an Oreo McFlurry back to Jack, who excitedly held out his hands. “That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Not necessarily,” Cas said. “I don’t think we’re that destined to fail again—Oh, you mean the ice cream.” He glanced at Jack, who was dripping ice cream onto his lap with every spoonful. “Um. Traumatic experience?”

Dean wasn’t falling for that excuse a second time. He started to say so, but Cas wasn’t listening, picking up his phone as it beeped several times in quick succession.

“What?” Dean asked, seeing a slow frown cross Cas' face as he stared at the screen.

Cas held up his phone to show several texts in a row. “We’re in trouble.”

On cue, Dean’s phone started ringing, the screen lighting up to display Sam’s name. Fuck.

“Sam would like to know why we’re all blocked from the group chat,” Cas said unhelpfully, and Dean rejected the call.

“Good luck explaining why.”

“Maybe the problem is us,” Cas said slowly. He met Dean’s eyes, then they both shook their heads.

“No, it’s those stupid parents,” Dean said.

“And their insufferable children,” Cas agreed.

“Insufferable!” Jack agreed from the backseat, ice cream smeared across his chin. Or that’s what Dean thought he was repeating, the word losing a few syllables along the way.

“Not you, Jack,” Cas said. “Every playgroup would be lucky to have you.”

“Just, they apparently don’t know it,” Dean pointed out. “Or we wouldn’t keep getting kicked out.”

His phone started ringing again, as if to remind him of the fact, and he looked pointedly at Cas. “You deal with him.”

“No, you,” Cas said.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dean muttered. Then he had an idea.

“Hey, Jack, tell Sam about what you saw today.” He turned on speakerphone and handed back his phone, not even caring that Jack’s hands were a sticky mess. Okay, maybe he cared a little, but that’s why the Impala now always held wipes in the glove box.

Jack grabbed his phone eagerly. “Sam!” he crowed. “Guess what I saw!”

Dean caught Sam’s voice over the phone. “What—Jack, hey, where’s Dean?”

“Clowns!” Jack said, waving his ice cream spoon around. “Clowns everywhere!”

“Very mature,” Cas told Dean.

Dean shrugged. “Buys us some time.”

“That’s nice, Jack, but put Dean on,” Sam said. Jack started to give the phone back, and Cas whispered,

“Tell him about the slide.”

“Sam, Sam! I went on a slide!” Dean gave him a thumbs up in the rearview mirror and Jack copied it.

“Dean! I know you can hear me!” Sam yelled as Jack continued on about his eventful day.

“We’re horrible influences,” Cas said, unsuccessfully fighting back a smile.

“Nah,” Dean said. “We’re the best.”

tag list

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @arcticfox007  @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat @harmonyhelms @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @confusedisaster @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @celestialcastiel @wormstacheangel

let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list :)

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS

@ziasaph

Prompt: When Roman and Y/N have a little phone teasing, Roman is left with a problem to solve...with his bare hands.

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, masturbation(male),cursing,explicit thoughts,smut(implied)

Notes: This is my first time ever trying to “recreate” what would go through a man’s mind while masturbating( I don’t have a wiener, so you know, this might not be 100% accurate) this is written in Roman’s POV only. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Fuck me...” I whispered as I adjusted my bulge for the 4th time. I just finished a phone call with Y/N, and we kinda had a little phone teasing so now,here I am making my way to my locker room with a very painful hard on that I couldn’t wait to take care of.

As soon as my eyes met the locker room door I sighed in relief, until I heard

“Yo Uce,hold up!”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I barked under my breath

“What up Uce?” My cousin Jimmy happily smiled at me

“Good,good...” I dumbly replied

“You ok there?”

“No I’m not ok Jimmy,what to you want?”

“Is this because you lost your match? Uce, you gotta learn how to lose man”

“This is not because of my match ok? It’s another thing that’s bothering me”

“Oh...Is it because Y/N hasn’t come back yet? I know you love her and all, but ever since she left, you got all blue and shit... I’m aware of your obsession towards her,but she has her own life problems to deal with you know? You can’t get all bitchy every time she needs to leave man...” he vaguely said

Y/N took a one month license so she could solve some problems regarding her family business, and ever since she left my mood has gotten worst and worst, and I still got 8 more fucking days ahead of me before she comes back! The racional part of my brain understands and agrees with what my cousin’s saying, but the other primal part of me just wants to punch his face and tell him to shut the fuck up.

He doesn’t understand the connection that Y/N and I have, she is my other half as cheesy as that sounds. I’ve never had believed that sort of stuff UNTIL the day I met her. From that day on I knew I had found my one and only. So you can’t really blame me for being in such a shitty mood, I was left without my sunlight for a whole fucking month, so yeah, I was gonna whine about it.

“Are you done,mom?” I said with an annoyed tone

“I’m just trying to help Uce”

“Yeah I know man” I sighed “I’m sorry is just that I gotta take care of something..” I vaguely said

“Ok, I’m not gonna keep you long, I was just gonna ask you if you would like to go out to th-“

“No,thanks. I have other plans” I quickly said before he could finish

“Really? And what possibly great plan is that,that you gonna miss a night out with your favorite cousin?”

“You really wanna know?”

“Yeah! And it’s better be a good plan for you to dismiss me like that”

“I’m gonna take a shower, take care of a very painful boner, jack off while I think about my girlfriend, then I’m gonna head back to my hotel room where a nice,big and comfortable bed waits for me...and maybe jack off again looking at some pictures of Y/N. Happy now?”

He looked at me in disbelief

“So you’re dismissing my invitation for a night out so you can jack off? How old are you? 14?” He started laughing

“Is that all Jimmy?” I made sure my voice demonstrated how annoyed I was.

“Yeah, yeah..go ahead Mr. Puberty go do your business...even tho you won’t need to take care of it yourself..” he barely whispered

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing...here I’ll even open the door for you..just so your hands don’t get too tired!” He said mocking me “Milady, please” He bowed down and was now 100% laughing at me

“Fuck you Jimmy” I muttered under my breath closing and locking my locker room door.

I got out of my ring attire faster than a demon from church and made my way to the shower, while I waited for the water to heat up, I begin to stroke myself lazily while I thought about Y/N and the last time we were together. I got under the shower and remembered her body, the way it felt against mine, her breasts and how they are a perfect handful size, how soft her skin is (specially her boobs), how delicate her nipples feel against my lips.

Her sexy love handles,fuck I love those, which is why I don’t really get it why she hates it so much and wants to get rid of them so bad? I love how they feel when I tightly grip them on my hands whenever I’m holding her hips in place while fucking her from behind. My dick got harder just to think about it..Fuck I wish she was here!

I love her ass, I was always a tits lover until I saw that ass! Then I was officially converted into an ass lover. I just love to touch it, grip it, bite it, I love to watch it bounce when she rides me, I love to kiss it, spank it, rub my bulge against it..

*I begin to stroke my cock harder*

And fuck it..I love to fuck her ass.

But not as much as I love to fuck her pussy, nothing compares to the feeling of my cock buried deep inside of her tight pussy, I could cum just by remembering the vision of my dick sliding in and out of that sweet pussy..MY pussy, that belongs to ME! Fuck I just wish she was here, I would eat her out like a mad man.

I love to go down on her, seeing her eyes roll to the back of her head as I hungrily devour her..seeing how she squirms underneath me, moaning..begging for me to fuck her, how incredible she tastes...

But I also love when she sucks my dick.

The sight of her, on her knees, with a mouthful of cock while she looks up to meet my gaze.. FUCK ME isn’t that a beautiful sight?! Her lips all swollen and red from sucking me, her hands stroking my cock while she looks up and give me one of her satisfied smiles..so fucking gorgeous. Even more gorgeous when she chokes on my dick, making me slide all the way down until I hit the back of her throat just so she can pull back, gasping for air, while she giggles amused about how far she had taken.

With all of those sweet memories I came on my hand, giving me some sort of relief (at least for now). But it wasn’t the same thing tho, it wasn’t her and I NEEDED her!

God I love that woman, and I just fucking miss her, I just wish that she was here..

I made my car ride back to the hotel thinking about everything that I missed about her. I missed her scent, her voice, her smile, her hugs, her kisses, the way she likes to stroke my hair to help her sleep, her stealing all of my gray sweatpants just so I couldn’t “advertise” my package to other women, our late night conversations that were sometimes meaningful others meaningless, our make out sessions, lazy morning sex, horror movies marathon, the way she argued with one of the characters and told them they were “so dumb” and she “wished they would just get killed already”, the way she comforted me, the way I comforted her...

I opened the door to my hotel room, dragged myself to the sofa and was so deep in thoughts that I didn’t even noticed that the lights were on.

“Should I come back later?” The voice said in quite an amused tone.

*Wait..I know that voice!*

I turned my head to my left side so I could meet the owner of that voice, the one I had waited 3 long weeks to have by my side again

“Y/N” I couldn’t help but ran towards her, grab her tightly in my arms and kiss her so intensely that she almost couldn’t breath.

“Ro” she giggled “Baby, as much as I love this affectionate side of yours, you’re kinda making it difficult for me to breath” She chuckled

“Sorry, it’s just that I missed you so fucking much! You have no idea what hell I’ve been through those 3 weeks without you” I said as I gave her light pecks all over her lips,neck and face.

“Aww Rome.. I missed you too love! That’s why I decided to make you a surprise come back, everything solved before expected so I didn’t need to be there anymore so I decided to come back to my home,you!” She smiled

“I am your home,just like you’re mine! Those 3 weeks without you were a nightmare!”

“Oh I know! Jimmy told me you were being a little bitch and if I didn’t came back soon he would whoop your ass!” She was laughing uncontrollably

“That fucker...he knew you were coming back today didn’t he?” I asked remembering his little comment about me not needing to jack off at the hotel.

“Yep! He helped me with everything. Why?”

“Oh nothing, it’s just that he asked if I wanted to go out with him somewhere after the show and I declined saying I had other stuff to do”

“Like what?” She asked slightly confused

“Oh you know, like jack off in the shower thinking about you..”

“Did you?” She looked at me with that vixen look on her face

“What do you think baby girl? After our little teasing on the phone, you got me all worked up so I had to think about you while I took care of business with my own hands” Which where now roaming down to grab her ass.

“That sounds fun..why don’t you tell me everything you thought about huh?” She deviously smirked at me

“Oh baby, I might as well just show it to you” With that I picked her up in my arms and made my way towards the bed. I was going to show her everything that went through my mind those 3 weeks.

And fuck,she better be ready, ‘cuz I got all night long..

[translytherins]

Unaccepted Permission Slip {Part 2}

[A/n: Pitcure refrence is on my Unaccepted Permission Slip part 1 so go check that out if you want refrence]

Peter's P.O.V

"Your enjoying the attention that your getting from (m/n) aren't you Peter" Ned said while wiggling his eyebrows at me. Mj was just smirking at me.

"Yup" i said while popping the p.

I looked at (m/n) who was standing right next to me. We were in front of the elevator waiting for it to open. He was wearing his headphones, listening to his music playlist so he most likely didn't hear what Ned said.

"I think this is the most clingy he's ever been in our one year of dating. So I'm enjoying it while it lasts" i said with a smile on my face. The elevator doors opened and we got on to it.

-

I opened the door to the training room and we saw Aunt Tasha sparring with Uncle Clint while Pietro was sparring with Pops. Wow...this is so...freaking...unimpressive. Well to me and (m/n) that is because the Avengers sparring is basically a daily occurrence. My classmates and the teacher were gawking at the scene infront of them. When they saw us they stopped sparring and gave us a welcoming smile.

"Hello children of Midtown High" Aunt Tasha greeted us but i don't think the others caught on, on the fact that she just called them children because their to star struck but (m/n), me and Mj did. We were snickering while Mj was glaring at us causing us to stop.

"Today we'll be picking five students to come and and demonstrate with the five of us.

" Five??? But there's only four of you??? "

" No there's five of us. Come here (N/n). Your joining us" Pietro said with a smug look his face.

I visibly gulped because I knew something very VERY bad is about to go down. I just love when my Parker luck strikes. Note the sarcasm.

(m/n)'s P.O.V

I groaned because of two things. One, I'm too lazy to spar and two Pietro called me (N/n).

"No. I'm not doing it and you can't make me" i said while giving Pietro a challenging look.

"Oh, i can" he replied while holding my wireless headphones. I checked my neck only to realise that they were missing.

I just groaned in annoyance and made my way over to them. Taking my headphones from Pietro and smacking his head really hard. Pietro whined and pouted while i just rolled my eyes at him. Cap made us stand to the side while he and Nat demonstrated. They started sparring and the classs stared in amazement (except Peter of course) but i didn't pay attention to the demonstration. Instead i put on my mask, hood and headphones, got out my sword and started practicing with it while doing some summer saults, back flips, cart wheels and much more. I was so into it that i didn't even realise that half of the classes attention was on me. I shape shifted my sword into a staff and transferred my water element into it. I stabbed the staff into the ground and a water dragon appeared from my staff. After a few minutes, it evaporated into water droplets before disappearing it completely.

Once it disappeared, i turned around while pulling down my headphones and saw that everyone was staring at me shocked and surprised even the five Avengers (including Peter) because i never showed them i could do with my full power. Pietro was the first one to snap out of it and Pietro super speed towards and wrapped an arm around my shoulder with his sh*t eating grin.

"Didn't know you could do that"

I just shrugged and pushed his arm off my shoulder.

"I forgot"

He just chuckled and yanked me by my hand towards the middle of the sparring mat. The others snapped out of it and started choosing their sparring partners. Some of them looked excited to spar with us, some of them looked like they were about to sh*t their pants. I put my headphones back on and waited until it was my turn. I was so into my music that i didn't even realise that it was my turn to pick until Clint nugged my shoulder, telling me it was my turn to pick. I had an evil smirk on my face but no one could see it under my (f/c) mask.

"Eugene Thompson"

When i said his name his face paled slightly but he had a cocky arse grin on his face. He probably thought he could beat me but his name is on my death list, so i won't be going easy. Peter looked like he was about to pass out and his friend, Mj, was drawing something on her book ( judging by the way she was holding her pencil) so fast that it looked like her pencil was about to break. He slowly made his way towards me, trying to look menacing as possible but it didn't work. All i did was yawn and say ;

"How long is it goong to take for you to get here because your wasting everyone's time with your presents"

Everyone either laughed or snickered at my comment making the retard named Flash mad but decided to not say anything and finally walk faster so he was standing next to me. We all moved to the side because Nat was going first with her partner which was a girl that looks slightly terrified but slightly confident that she might win. Let's just hope Nat doesn't break her bones.

-

After a few minutes of watching the other kick arse, finally it was my turn. Me and Flash walked to the center of the sparring mat. We got into our fighting stance and waited for Steve to blow the whistle. While waiting, i quickly shape shift my sword into a sludge hammer and transferred some natural element into it. When he blew the whistle, i slammed the hammer onto the ground creating a huge crack in the ground and the floor continued to crack until it reached Flash. The room was silent until the cracked area started to fall, creating a huge deep hole in the ground. Unfortunately, ( well fortunately actually. I don't want to kill him. Just scare him a little) he moved just in time so he won't get swallowed by the ground. He had an arrogant smirk on his face because he thought he had a chance but unknown to him there was vines that was starting to sprout from the crack that managed to make his way behind him. The vines started to tangle his legs. He raised his fist and was about to come running towards me but he fell face first onto the ground. Everyone bursted out laughing even the avengers were snickering because i may or may have not made F.R.I.D.A.Y send a video of the incident in the lab to Tony and knowing him he might have already showed the video to the others before these four came down here. I walked up to him, who was still on the ground struggling to get out of my vines, and whispered in his ear, my eyes glowing red.

"If you or that sorry excuse of a teacher ever and i mean EVER hurt my boyfriend or anyone else again not only me but the others will come after you two and slit your throats open. Got it you b*tch"

He nodded his head vigorously. I smirked and untangled him from my vines and he stood up shaking like a leaf and spoke in a teasing but serious tone.

"Not so tough are you mister tough guy. Now get out of this f*cking tower while we wrap this tour up, never show your face here again because I don't think Tony let's bullies like you into this tower EVER again and don't even think about trying to apply for the internships because the chances of you getting in is 1%"

And with that, he bolted out of the room. I just shook my head. People these days can be a bit b*tchy. I repaired the crack in the ground and we (Clint, Pietro, Nat and Steve) walked towards the awestruck class.

Peter's P.O.V

The five of them were walking towards us and i have a bad feeling about what's about to go down.

"Listen here everyone. If i hear that you bring harm to my son, Peter Stark-Rogers, just remember that me, my husband and the rest of the avengers will not hesitate to take action. Understood???"

They all nodded their heads with shock (with Mrs.Warren slightly terrified)

" Good. The tour is over but the teacher will have a meeting with me, Tony and the principal deciding whether your going to keep your job or not for not doing anything about kids bullying other kids"

The whope class exited the tower talking about how cool the trip was. Ned just gave me a smile and waved before walking through the door. Pops turned to me and i gulped.

"We'll talk about you being bullied later. Right now, go and change your clothes. The press conference going to start in an hour and you have to change into the suit Tony gave you because if you don't he's going to go beserk"

I nodded my head and towards my room to get ready for the press conference that i totally DIDN'T forget about. But tonights going to be a long night of explanation and scolding *sigh*. You know what it's okay because i know they're trying to protect me and i wouldn't trade them or my boyfriend for the world.

-Timeskip To The Press Conference-

Me, my family and my boyfriend were at the conference room (A/n :If there's not just go with it). We're not even inside yet but I could already see light flashing and loud talking inside the room. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked towards the owner of the hand and saw dad smiling at me.

"Don't worry kid. You'll be fine"

I smile and nodded.

"Ready?" Happy asked as he put his hand on the handle ready to open the door.

I nodded my head. I felt (m/n) take a hold of my left hand and squeeze it for reassurance. Happy opened the door and we walked inside and onto the podium. When we were all standing on the podium Dad and pops were immediately bomb with a thousand questions asking if it was true he was gay and married and if they adopted a kid. He confirmed it saying he was married to Steve Rogers *cue the crying woman's* and he introduced me to. I waved akwardly, not knowing what to act and questions were shot towards me. They're talking was hurting my ears and the lights were really bright all of a sudden. Realisation hits me like a bullet train. I was having a sensory overload. I tugged on pops hand and he looked over at me. He immediately realised what was happening just by looking at me and said the press conference was over and carried me inside to lay me down in my room.

-

He and dad placed me on my bed with an extremely worried (m/n) standing behind them. They kissed my forehead and left the room to bring the news to everyone in the living room. (m/n) was about to follow them but i tugged his hand unintentionally making him fall onto the bed because of my super strength and snuggled into his side. He gave me a soft smile and kissed my forehead making me smile.

"How did i get so lucky with you?" he asked.

I looked at him with a confused look.

"Why are you asking that??? It should be me asking you that"

He gave me a smile that I love so much and pecked my cheek, making me blush.

"I love you so much Pete that it hurts. You know that, right???"

"I know. You tell me that every day. I love you too (m/n). So, so much"

And with that we both fell asleep in each others embrace woth a smile on our faces.

~The End~

[theimpossiblescheme]

“Where have you been?!”--for Goemon and whoever you want!

Goemon could already feel his heart sink a bit when a boy no older than seven answered the door, cracking it open just enough to turn on the porchlight above them.  “C-Can I help you, Mister—” he nervously eyed the sword at his side—“Mister Samurai?”

“Yes, can you tell me if… if the lady of the house is home?”  He wasn’t exactly sure what the proper form of address was.  Calling her by her first name seemed too familiar, but he couldn’t be sure if she’d changed her last name in the… fifteen years?  Since he’d last seen her.

(Had it really been fifteen years?  How had he let the time fly away from him like that?  What could he have possibly been too busy with to come back, even just to say hello?)

The boy nodded and hid a few more inches behind the door, turning his face away.  “Mom!” he called, and Goemon’s heart sunk a little bit deeper. “There’s somebody at the door! Says he wants to see you!”

“What is it, Kōhei?” A woman’s voice sounded down the inside hallway, followed by the whisper of socked feet.  Then another hand came to nudge open the door, and there was Murasaki.  Dressed in worn grass-stained blue jeans and a yellow cardigan, her long hair pinned up out of her face in a loose bun and showing a few strands of grey at her temples. Certainly thinner and more tired-looking than he remembered her, but her face lit up with a brilliant smile as she recognized him.

“Goemon!”  She sounded shocked, but delighted at the same time. “What are you doing here?”

Suddenly that sounded like a very good question.  But Goemon tried to maintain his composure.  “I… I hope I’m not intruding.  I thought I might stop by and—and see how you were doing.”

“Okay.”  She nodded slightly, as if still registering his presence, before seeming to relax a bit and opening the front door wider.  “Yeah, come on in!  Kōhei—” she ran a gentle hand through the boy’s hair—“this is Mom’s old friend, Goemon.  He’s the one who saved our whole family from the Fuma clan, remember?”

Kōhei ducked behind Murasaki’s pantleg and muttered a quick “hi” before dashing off down the hall.  Goemon couldn’t help but give a tiny smile as he slipped off his shoes, discarded his sword, and stepped inside.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just shy,” Murasaki said as she watched him run off, tucking a few loose strands of hair back into her bun before turning back to Goemon.  “So what brings you all the way out here?”  The where on earth have you been?! was implied, even if it was a gentle urging rather than a demand, and for a moment Goemon had no idea what excuse he could possibly give.  What did one even say after fifteen years?

“I—Lupin and Jigen and I had been travelling for a while, and I had… I had started to miss home. And I figured along the way I would come and visit you… since it’s been so long.”  We’ve done so much together, Murasaki, you wouldn’t believe, his thoughts raced wildly.  We stole from palaces, we robbed the biggest casino in the world, we saved a princess and uncovered a worldwide conspiracy… and I never even thought to write to you.  And it’s been too long for any apology to be good enough.  I wish you could have seen it, I know Lupin wanted to invite you along all those years ago, and I know you wanted to see the world.  I’m sorry I never took him up on it when I had the chance.  “I hope I didn’t come at a bad time,” was what he said instead.

“No, no, it’s okay!” she quickly reassured him.  “Actually, you came at a great time—I was just making us a late supper.  We’ve been so busy today the time kind of got away from us, but you’re welcome to join us!”

Goemon blinked.  Of all the responses she could have given, that was the most optimistic one, but he’d always suspected it was just wishful thinking.  Now that he was here… “I’d… I would like that.”  

Murasaki gave him another smile, an even brighter one this time, and gestured for him to follow her. He still remembered his way around the Suminawas’ old home surprisingly well, although the large TV in the living room and the power strips with multiple long extension cords running to and from the kitchen threw him for a moment, and he almost sat on someone’s stuffed dog next to the dining room table.  While Murasaki busied herself in the kitchen, he glanced around the place through the open dividing screens, taking it all in.  It was still the same house, the same woodwork, the same art on the walls and shelves, the same view of the garden outside… but it felt very different now.  More energetic in a way, more lived-in.

“That boy, Kōhei… is he yours?”  He had to be—she’d clearly named him after her grandfather, who must have passed away years ago.  Another pang wrung through Goemon at the thought.

“Mm-hm.”  Murasaki rearranged a few pots on the stovetop before getting a new one out for tea and filling it with water.  “Kaneto and I adopted him.  We’d always wanted kids, but neither of us wanted…”  She shrugged demonstratively.  “You know.”

Goemon nodded.  At least she’d found someone else who understood what she truly wanted in a marriage, even if it might seem like comparatively little.  “What does Kaneto do for a living?”

“We both teach!  At the high school the next town over—he teaches history, I teach biology.”  Setting out two teacups on the counter and leaving the water to boil, she turned back around to face her guest.  “And one the weekends he helps me with the garden.  That’s what we were doing all day until I sent him out to go run errands for me,” she added with a somewhat embarrassed wave down at her jeans.

Goemon only nodded again. He remembered her telling him, way back when they first met, that she wanted to earn her teaching degree someday, even if she had to put it on hold to care for her family.  Now she seemed truly happy with both, and he was happy for her truly—it would be selfish of him to even entertain the slightest bitter thought…

It wasn’t bitterness exactly.  More of a heaviness that sat at the bottom of his ribs and the pit of his stomach, even at seeing her current happiness.  A feeling he’d always tried so hard to transcend over the years, but it never quite worked.

A photograph hanging nearby caught his attention—a family portrait.  Murasaki stood beaming next to a man in a smart, slightly old-fashioned suit with dark brown hair.  They were about the same height, which made Goemon chuckle, but the Kaneto in the frame still managed to smile down at his wife like he couldn’t believe his good luck. Next to her stood a much more energetic Kōhei, grinning from ear to ear, and at Kaneto’s side stood a little girl, presumably their daughter, in bright yellow overalls and a fluffy white bow in her ponytail.  All four of them looked deliriously happy, and Goemon’s heart suddenly ached so much he could feel his shoulders sinking as the heaviness expanded.  He’d missed it.  He’d missed all of it.  She’d found love again, gotten married for real this time, taken in her own adorable children, built a new life for herself…

And he hadn’t even thought to write to her.  She’d never left his thoughts, never for a moment, but thoughts couldn’t be delivered to someone’s home, couldn’t be read as plainly as words on a page.  So much time he’d never get back, so many chances gone. He didn’t even feel bitter at the loss—he just felt sad, almost ashamed, that he’d never known, never got a chance to be there when it all happened.  It felt odd, almost too simple assigning such a basic word to such a strong emotion, but sometimes the simplest explanations were the best.

“It sounds like I’ve missed quite a lot.”

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but a frown line in Murasaki’s forehead deepened as she tended to the tea.  “Well… you were gone for a long time.”  Her voice was still gentle and nonjudgmental, but the additional weight of her words settled at the pit of his stomach and joined the sour, regretful churn there.

“I know.”  It was silly, really… Goemon wasn’t entirely sure what he’d expected.  Even years before the whole mess with the Fuma clan, they had both been practically children when they first met.  And while she’d been able to stay that way a little longer, joyous and bouncy and carefree even into her twenties, he had to grow up rather quickly.  Momochi’s treachery, Jinen’s murder, that terrible cult pursuing Fujiko… and all of this before he and Lupin found each other.  Since then he’d met three new friends, watched at least two old ones die, and forced himself to reconsider his place in the world. He could never be the same callow naïve youth he’d started as, and he could never be the same man who’d left that day, promising her he’d return once he’d completed his training… maybe he just didn’t like the reminder.

I’m not going to wait for you, Goemon!

It seemed nothing had. And it was selfish of him to expect otherwise.  He’d once though that no matter how much the world changed, he would stay the same… now he realized even that wasn’t true.  He was part of the same world as Murasaki, as Lupin and Jigen and Fujiko—time passed the same for all of them, no matter how they tried to fight it.

“I didn’t know it would be so long.”  It was no excuse, but more of a musing… no one ever did, did they?  And then the next thing they knew, fifteen years had gone by without so much as a by-your-leave.

And Murasaki, kind and forever buoyant soul that she was, still refused to judge him.  Or if she was, she never betrayed even a hint of it. “I get it.”  She poured the water and tea leaves back into the pot to let them steep a few minutes.  “Life goes on, you know?  It just… happens, no matter where we are.  That’s what Grandpa used to say.”  A silence ensued then, not quite entirely comfortable, but still companionable as Goemon pondered her words.  They were true enough—if someone had told that callow naïve youth that he’d spend years of training to be an assassin, that he’d throw in his lot (and fall in love) with a pack of thieves, that he’d turn down marriage into another proud and noble family… he definitely would have laughed.

What was the phrase? The best laid plans of mice and men… they all certainly seemed to go awry in his experience.

“But for what it’s worth,” Murasaki ventured, emerging from the kitchen with two fresh cups of tea and pressing one into his hand as she sat across from him, “I am glad you came to visit.”

“… I am, too.”  He was here now, at least.  And perhaps… for all the time he’d lost, there was still time to make it up.  He wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.  As strangely final was his last goodbye to Lupin and Jigen had felt, he loved them and Fujiko far too much to leave their sides entirely.  Besides, a samurai’s lot was to serve until death, or at least until he was no longer useful.  Retirement simply wasn’t in the cards for Goemon—he’d made peace with that long ago.  But strangely enough, the sentiment didn’t have the same… rigid structure it once had. It was less of a solemn vow, a mast he needed to lash himself to lest he be tempted by some other siren song, and more of a recognition of the way things were.  Of where his life had led him and would continue to lead.

It had led him and Murasaki in different directions.  With their own respective families, unorthodox as his own was (and he could just imagine the insufferably saccharine look on Lupin’s face if he’d heard Goemon refer to him as such).  And they were both happy.  Maybe years ago he might have resented that, but now… this also felt like the way things were meant to be.  Tea on the table, supper on the stove, sitting across from a loved one.  What more could he ask?

He did want to at least offer a little more, though—it only seemed fair.  “I will probably go back to my family’s old home for a little while, but… if you ever need somebody to help you with the children or in the garden, I’d be more than happy.”

“That sounds wonderful. Oh!”  She reached across the table to pat his hand excitedly, a quick succession of feather-light taps.  “And you have to meet Mayumi—she would adore you.”

Goemon smiled again, and some of the weight in his chest began to lessen.  “I look forward to it.”