#it just looks like im saying that a story beat from a tv show about terminal illness should have been dumb and goofy for no reason

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly - Chapter 6. The Nightmare

Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: cursing, SMUT, angst *im sorry* - Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. F!OC was recommended to me since there's a lot of description of her but I'm writing her as You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: The Nightmares that have plagued you come back and Joel helps you through it, but getting closer isn't easy. 1.2K

Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the book line divider. :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6. The Nightmare

By some miracle, you haven’t had any of your nightmares since you arrived in Jackson two weeks ago. That is until early this morning when, in your sleep, you toss and turn and yell until you’re woken up by Joel’s large hands on your shoulders and his warm breath in your face. “Hey, hey, shhh, you’re okay. It was a nightmare, you’re okay. Look at me.” You realize your cheeks are wet, how long have you been crying? “Joel?” Your voice is scratchy, how long have you been yelling? “Darlin’, you didn’t wake up for me. It took almost ten minutes of me shaking you to wake you up,” Joel says, quietly as he can but you hear so much pain in his voice. “I’m sorry,” you say, “Raiders, I was caught for, for...two years, a little while before I came here. The nightmares, I haven’t had one since I got here, I thought maybe I wouldn’t. I’m so sorry.” Joel is kneeling next to your bed, hands loosening around you, and you see he’s in his pajamas and his hair is all messy from sleep. He sits back a bit, and you see he’s visibly angry, “Nothin’ to be sorry about. That’s never gonna happen to you again, I promise you that.” Still trying to catch your breath you say, “You can’t promise that, Joel.” He sits up again, closer to you. “You are here now, look at me,” and you do, its blurry without your glasses but he’s so close you can see into his eyes, “You’re here now and I’m not going to let anything hurt you like that ever again.” You try to nod but he continues, “Oh, god, you’re shaking so much. What can I do?” After a moment of silence you ask, “Will, will you hold me?” and before you can finish your question, he climbs up beside you, puts his arms around you and has your cheek resting over his heart that’s beating wildly. As his heart calms, so do you and you fall back asleep.

When you wake, you’re disoriented. You’re asleep on your side but you feel a large, warm presence behind you, and a large arm draped over you. For a moment, you freeze in terror and Joel, who was already awake feels the shift, grabbing you gently but firm to turn you so you face him. He says your name over and over, looking into your eyes and you finally breathe. Then he can finally breathe, and he lays his forehead against yours hovering over you, his eyes closed. Before you can think, you reach up to cup his cheek and he leans into it, snuggling your palm. And you think you’ve never felt this safe in your whole life. You’re so close. It would only take a slight movement of your neck, and your lips would touch. And then they do. His lips are so soft and so warm and your lips slot so perfectly with his. He doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, licking at your bottom lip with his tongue, begging to be let in. You gladly welcome him, and he licks into your mouth, exploring you, tasting you. He tastes like mint and a hint of late-night coffee. Without thought, both your bodies start to move with each other and a moan escapes your lips only to be swallowed by Joel’s ravenous mouth against yours. You feel his hardness on your thigh, rubbing up against you. You start to run your fingers through his beautiful hair. It’s so soft.

Suddenly, there’s a slam of a door, “Joel?” Tommy yells from downstairs and Joel jerks away from you. Wild-eyed, dark and full of desire, lips pink and swollen from kissing. He stands up off the bed and you’re still trying to catch your breath, laid out on the bed in front of him, looking open and wanting. You can feel the slick pooling at the entrance between your legs. “It’s Tommy, I gotta,” he starts. “I know, it’s okay.” You smile shyly at him; he doesn’t smile back. And then he’s gone. You lay your head back on the pillow and sigh. Smiling ear to ear but also nervous about what almost happened. Does he want you as much as you want him? Fuck, you hope so. After what you’ve been through, you deserve to have something you want, right?  You roll over to find the pillow Joel was laying on and inhale his scent.

A bit later, and fully dressed, you make your way downstairs to see Joel standing in the living room and Ellie in a chair looking utterly pissed off and you wonder what the hell you just walked into. Ellie stands looking at you sadly, then stares at Joel and stalks off for her garage. Once she’s gone Joel starts speaking, not really looking at you, not in the eyes at least. “They’ve got a place ready for you, above the bakery. It’s ready today. S’what Tommy came to tell me.” It’s like a punch to your gut. You knew this was going to happen, but you didn’t think it’d be this fast. You almost thought that maybe it wouldn’t ever happen. It was going well here with you and Joel and Ellie. Right? God, you’re stupid, they’re each other’s family. You’re just a new person in town and they were just doing you a favor. It wasn’t your bedroom, it wasn’t your wolf mug, Ellie wasn’t your daughter, and Joel wasn’t yours. Your eyes brim with tears and you ask quietly, “What about this morning, Joel,” He cuts you off, his voice low, “Was a mistake, won’t happen again, this’ll be better for you.” You feel like he slapped you and stand to run upstairs so he doesn’t see you cry, again.

Tommy comes to help you with the two small boxes of things to take to the new place. He looks from you to Joel and neither of you will look at each other or him. Joel puts one more thing in the box Tommy is carrying as Ellie emerges to give you a hug before you start walking off the front porch. The hug starts off awkward until it turns into the most amazing hug you’ve had in decades. “You have to come visit me, I’m above the bakery, we’ll eat so much bread.” Ellie smiles, laying her head on your shoulder, Joel walks off into the house. “I’m so angry at him, he’s being a stupid asshole and a coward,” Ellie says, and Tommy looks back into the house seemingly trying to piece together what’s going on. “It’s okay, Ellie. I’ll see you, promise.”

After Tommy leaves you at your new apartment, you sit and stare at the floor, it’s a cute place, perfect for just you. A small kitchen, a breakfast nook by the front window, one bedroom and a pretty bathroom with a tub and a shower. And it smells amazing, but you can’t enjoy it. You feel cold being away from him, your lips feel lost without his. You don’t feel safe anymore. What had you done? What did you do to make him push you away so hard. He wouldn’t even look at you. And for the first time, since he saved you, you wish he hadn’t. Because this loneliness was worse than all the other times. This hurt more than you thought it could. And now you have to start over, alone, again.

Taglist: @somedayheaven @elegantduckturtle

If you'd like to be added to the taglist just let me know in a message or comment. :)

[taeraeszn]

im v hao deprived☹️ sooo i was wondering if you would be able to write a zhang hao fluffy fic😭? i was thinking smthin like idolxidolreader or idolxtraineereader stuff like that but it could rlly be ab anything you want js yk fluff:)) tysm!!

enchanted to meet you - zhang hao

characters: idol!zhang hao x gn!idolreader

description: after you two meet during an interview at a music show, you couldn't help but notice the boy standing in the centre of his group.

genre: fluff

word count: 954

warnings: may include some spelling/grammar errors but i don't think there is any but pls lmk if there is!!!!

a/n: hi anon! i decided to use what you suggested, hopefully your okay with that and how i wrote the story :) and honestly just writing this i'm getting more and more excited for their actual debut hehe <3

also i had so much fun writing this especially the interview part lol. this is the first time i've ever finished writing someone in one sitting!! i was so into this <3

being an idol was something you always wanted to become after seeing celebrities on tv sing and dance. you were luckily to be accepted as a trainee in a company and trained for a good 2 years before officially making your debut as the lead vocalist. you were very loved by your fans for being both talented and having a warm personality.

right after you debuted, your first music show appearance would be on music bank. your group was one of two groups chosen to be interviewed by the mc's eunchae and chaemin. needless to say that you were thrilled.

when your group members were all done getting ready with their styling, you were then escorted to the room where your interview was going to be held. that is where you met zerobaseone, the group who was joining you for that particular interview.

one of the boys signalled for the other members to be prepared to introduce themselves. "1, 2...d1, be the one! hello, we are zerobaseone!" they all exclaimed then bowed afterwards.

your group followed by your own introduction and the moment you looked up from bowing, you made eye contact with the guy standing in the centre. you had no idea what his name was or who he even was but you felt your heart start beating.

"we recently debuted with the album youth in the shade, we hope you have lots of interest in it!" the boy in the centre said. you nodded and thanked them as they handed their album to you that was signed.

your manager took the album aside and you did the same exchange with them by handing them your debut album. that's when you were called for the interview and you all stood there, excited but nervous at being able to promote your group on tv.

as they counted down from ten, the interview began and eunchae began speaking. "chaemin! did you hear? there's two new groups in town who are making a big splash in the hot month of july!"

chaemin then nodded, "of course! their hot debut is definitely a hit, let's meet them! welcome, zerobaseone and (group name)!"

once again your group introduced themselves to the viewers and zerobaseone did the same. the cheers you both received were such a indescribable feeling, seeing all the fans with banners and lightsticks really made it seem like your dream came true.

afterwards the interview went excellent! your leader took over most of the talking and you all made a great impression. but even throughout the interview, you couldn't stop thinking of the boy standing in the centre. he shined so bright even with his other eight members surrounding him.

your group headed back to your waiting room and you were the last member trailing behind everyone. but just as you were about to head in, you felt a presence linger behind you.

"um, excuse me?" you turned to see that boy you noticed from earlier behind you. his face looked so...perfect. like everything was sculpted to perfection. his downwards smile when you noticed him made your cheeks heat up. keep your calm (name)!

"oh! hello!" you bowed. he did the same and did the honours of introducing himself first, "my name is zhang hao! i'm the centre of zerobaseone. i just wanted to say that i really liked your debut song." oh so that's what his name was, zhang hao. it sounds pretty just like him.

"oh wow, thank you! my name is (name). i watched your debut as well and i was very impressed!"

he then shyly looked to his other member standing behind him before turning back to you, "is it okay if we can shoot a tiktok video together?" was this really happening?! the cute centre boy of his group asked you to film a tiktok with him?! you couldn't say no and followed him to the iconic pair of staircases that nearly every idol danced in front of for collabs at music bank.

"are you ready?" he smiled, his other member from before was filming it for him and before you knew it, the music began. you became fully immersed into the song as if it was your own debut and put your effort into making your cover good.

when the music finished, you once again bowed to him but it wasn't until that you were about to return to your waiting room that zhang hao stopped you once again.

"yes?" you asked. he seemed flustered but took his phone out and opened the contact app, "um, i want to get to know you better and get close. can we exchange numbers?"

his other member began chuckling to himself as zhang hao sent him a glare but retained his focus to you, once again showing his downward smile.

at first you were worried about the stacked july comeback lineup but now you were so thankful that you got to debut in the same month as him.

"of course! here, i'll put my name and number." he handed you his phone and you did exactly that.

"your name is (name)?" he said while staring at the contact, you nodded, "that's me!"

"thank you! i hope we can keep in touch!" he said while waving goodbye and heading back to his waiting room with his member who was filming the tiktok.

"me too! have a good day!" you responded. you went the opposite way and just then you heard his other member say something to him.

"hyung has a crush~" they said, zhang hao playfully nudged their shoulder.

"stop it!" you couldn't help but giggle. now you just had to wait for him to message you first, hopefully this encounter turns into more.

[maygrcnt]

been reflecting on the season a lot recently and on the topic of bucks bisexuality storyline, and i think ive come to the conclusion that theres maybe some catastrphization on the part of people who think the arc is horribly written, but also other people seem to be looking at it through rose tinted glasses and accepting anything given to them just because the storyline was such a long time coming. And i’ve had a hard time with figuring out why both sides of these takes just bother me so much so i sat down with my thoughts while work was slow and i rotated evan buckley in my mind until i had coherent thoughts

When it comes to the self discovery of it all i think that is probably the best thing the show did with the arc. episodes four and five were ultimately huge successes in my opinion on the topic of bisexuality. My main issue with this part of it is not specifically to do with the bi-ness of the storyline but the show in general. The show, showrunner, and Oliver want us to believe this storyline is different, that this is the one that finally changes everything, and I fully believe them in that being their intentions. However, they didnt show that to us well enough. The show has a glaringly cliche formula when it comes to buck and eddie love storylines that i used to think was intentional parallelism but now believe to be a writing rutt that they can't seem to break out of. They meet the partner, they have a romantic moment, something gets in the way of that romance, they meet up at a restaurant to “start over”. Ali, natalia, ana all follow this exactly and taylor sort of. its just tired? And the fact that this is exactly how buck and tommys relationship starts too just makes it so i cant convince myself that this is any different than before. Like i said i truly believe the writers thought they were pulling buck off the hamster wheel and the commentary outside the show tells me that he’s supposed to be doing something new, but they just can't escape their own romance formula enough to actually do it in the TEXT. and one thing about me is i think when it comes to TV, a viewer response lens is the most important way to analyze the story. the intention of the writer doesnt matter as much as the interpretation of the viewer because the average viewer of prime time television isnt reading tim minears interviews or listening to the podcasts oliver stark does, theyre tuning in at 8pm est and tuning out at 9. to conclude on the topic of bucks self discovery arc, i think it was done well. i think this is a general consensus, i feel like most people who think the storyline went sour still believe that episode four was done well at the very least

when it comes to the coming out of it all, this is one spot where i believe there’s some catastrophizing. the storyline had to choose carefully who got the long coming out scenes and i think it’s crazy to say that they chose wrong. do i wish there was a little bit of a longer beat with both hen and bobby about the storyline, yes absolutely. but i don’t think scenes with buck sitting down to formally come out to them would have been either necessary nor in character. bucks strongest canonical ties are to maddie, eddie, and bobby. two of which he never felt the need to come out formally to either by the way. i think a lot of people wanted to see more hesitation and fear from buck about his sexuality, but what they decided to show us instead was a man who realized something new about himself and immediately understood that the people around him were going to love and accept him no matter what. the only slip we see in this confidence is around eddie where… im trying to keep this analysis unbiased by non canon things so im not going to get into what i think of that but… in any sense bucks coming out moments were not about coming out at all but instead always about him being loved by his family. i rate this part of the storyline 10/10 because it all felt so natural and real for someone who has the support system and love that buck does (not saying it isn’t hard to come out even when people are supportive, just that i get why it wasn’t hard for buck). the storyline matched the character really well, but if they were to give the same easy breezy coming out arc to a character with the same backstory as say eddie then i would understand the want for more turbulence.

now the most polarizing part of the storyline for sure is the “established relationship” part of the season i guess you could call it lmao. my personal main complaint here is that we immediately lose any and all insight into the *new* of it all. if you want to make a big deal about this romance storyline being different than the other ones, you actually have to show us on screen what’s DIFFERENT about it. it doesn’t bother me so much on a relationship side of things because the relationship isn’t my personal cup of tea, but i think it would have been nice to see more scenes focused on the reasons this relationship is something new for buck. i’m not a tv writer, i honestly don’t have a suggestion for scenes that could have made this better for me. i think a tone thing is big part of it, if they lightened up tommy’s interactions with buck made him a little more flirty and lively it would have felt truly like a new relationship still in the phase of navigating a new dynamic rather than. well it doesn’t matter what i thought the relationship felt like by the end that’s not the point here. another place i feel like they could have put some more effort in is the bobby of it all, he was very preoccupied but their conversation felt stilted and not actually how i imagine it going. when it comes to the acknowledgment of bisexuality and newfound personal experiences i rate the end of the season: bad. i don’t think this was by virtue of the show not caring or wanting to portray the storyline anymore, but just by virtue of the entire end of the season being… kinda bad.

finally the finale, oh the finale… i swear im trying to come at this as unbiased as i can when i talk about the BT dinner scene but just know that i didn’t like it and that may bleed through. i think it was unfavorable of them to frame this scene the way they did. by having the scene start en media res and having us jump in to the dinner already in progress it feels disingenuous, because now im supposed to believe buck left the hospital, cooked an entire meal, set up a date, started eating and only THEN was the topic of bobby’s health brought up? it feels like this scene was written in a way that it would be for a well established long term couple, not a new relationship we’ve barely seen on screen. in this very scene is the first time tommy even learns what bucks relationship with bobby is like, this is very obviously not a deep connection yet so why are they being given the framework of it? the show is telling us that this relationship has gotten more serious without any proof and i find it very hard to believe them. i think there’s ONE simple change that makes this scene work 100x better and makes me feel like buck is actually settling into the relationship rather than having to take tim minear word for it: just start the scene with buck coming home to tommy! if buck is just getting home from the hospital it doesn’t feel as out of character because there’s less assumed time where buck is for some reason not worried about bobby, which he WOULD be don’t even try to tell me he’s not. and if tommy is already in bucks apartment when he comes home we learn so much about their relationship with such a small gesture. that buck feels comfortable with him there, that tommy feels comfortable alone there, that they spend time there often enough that tommy knows his way around. it just feels like this scene was written in good faith but the forgetfulness by the writers on the overall context of where this scene was in the episode created a strange tone in which i’m supposed to believe evan buckley would ever plan a romantic date night while bobby nash is literally comatose. thoughts on the bisexual storyline in the finale: no. i’m not gonna get into the daddy issues line of it all because that’s a lot more opinion based and it would make this like double length. ask me about it if you want i guess.

all in all, i think there’s … a lot that could have and should have been done differently in order to maximize the goals and effects that tim continuously told us he was trying to achieve. when it comes to carefully telling a story of late life sexuality discovery, i think they did well. when it comes to most other aspects, i think the ball was dropped. pls feel free to send messages or asks regarding this topic because i think im still developing thoughts on it and id love to have conversations regarding :)

[justanother-fanficwriter]

NCIA Agent A Trese Fanfic part 7

Sorry, long time no post hehe...

I spent hours trying to get the woman to answer.

"What is the passcode to the 'servers'?!"

I ask intimidatingly to the woman.

"I dont know! Go fuck yourself"

She says angrily in a singaporean accent. I smash her hand with a hammer one more time and she moans quickly in pain.

"Gago talaga... Let's have a break! If you dont have an answer if i get back, ill fuckin beat you till your face is blue!"

I walked out of the interrogation room and walked back up. The basement stairs creak upon each step I take.

"I'll interrogate her my way!"

Alexandra walks downstairs. I watched as she disappeared into the darkness of the basement. And after what felt like forever. She emerged with a glass of water with an eyeball in it.

"Ugh interrogation is the worst part of this job... Did she answer?"

I asked hoping she did.

"I just performed a spell and used it to see the passcode... It is Jawbreaker095756_Xzkr@#77"

I nodded and faced everyone who were anxiously watching TV while anxiously waiting.

"Damn, there is a specific channel for tagalog shows. And another for Malay, Thai and even Japanese and Chinese TV."

The wind girls say as they gleefully explore the channels.

"Sadly most shows are either old Filipino Soap Operas and Indonesian Sinetron, shopping catalogues, and propaganda ads and shows."

I say as they watch a propaganda show about how Pulau is the most powerful military in Southeast Asia and how they glorify the crazy dictatorship.

"Anyway the plan is that we sneak into the military base by skiing from the highway mountain of this island, Mt. San Agustin but instead of skiing to the resort, we jump off a cliff and parachute our way into a military base where we can find out the hidden superweapon they have been making by sneaking into the server room, and downloading their files and blueprints."

I explained and I listened to their suggestions and possible plans.

"ok, we are ready I guess..."

We were supposed to fly a plane up there but that would be detected by the radars of this crazy strict nation. They even once blew up a crop duster owed by a local farmer just because they had flown a little too close to a local military base yet there wasn't even any warning they were flying too close or that they would use force. Thats another story by the way. So instead, we got on board a "Songthaew", then we took a train, then a bus, and then a "Jeepney". We watched as the Jeepney climbed up the asphalt road and the environment changed from a tropical jungle, to a high snowy mountain.

We reached a snowy town on the top of the mountain. Next we need to take the shuttle limo to the ski resort!

As soon as we reached the resort, we bought skis and sleds.

"Man I'm scared of heights..."

Crispin says looking down as the cable car moved upwards while trying not to throw up.

"you're such a baby!"

Basilio teased Crispin. I laughed as a reaction.

"Same for my brother!"

My sister says, teasing me this time.

We exchanged looks and she just made faces on me before looking out the window again.

We reached the very top and we got prepared. I handed them reusable parachutes whcih automatically folds after you land instead of disposing them.

"3, 2, 1... GO!!!" I counted down right before we started to ski downwards and we went down a different route than the rest if the skiers and we went off a cliff.

"IM GONNA THROW UP!!!"

Crispin yelled out loud.

We parachuted into the base and maliksi transformed into a car again. His radio started to play "Elesi" by Rivermaya at full volume to distract the guards. He went drifting and the Military jeeps and trucks crash into each other being out maneuvered by Maliksi. We went into the base and we were amazed my the diversity. Many of the guards were Sigbin, Kapres, and Tikbalangs.

I threw a special grenade manufactured by the Agency to explode without sound to reduce noise.

The guards were taken out by the explosion and the only noise was their screams and their bodies crashing against the walls.

We went into the server room, and used the code. My sister started to hack the servers and we managed to steal their blueprints on the device! We also had an audio log by the Dictator President "Pado Magsakay" And we found out the device was to eliminate mankind by an explosion but that's not the most lethal part. The explosion was just the size of the Hiroshima blast. The dangerous part was that it had a certain liquid element called "Enchantium" that is very rare and is banned from being used by any nation by the United Nations. It can be vapourized and if inhaled, The effects of this is that it makes humans "Zombie like" and will become cannibalistic making Supernaturals the only unaffected in the world population. Ever since its discovery by the Nazis back in the Second World War, as soon as Germany lost. The CIA moved in to take all trace of the element and respond to any sightings to keep it top secret by destroying it.

"so this dictator is now facing not only abuse of rights, destruction of nature, and mass murder, he is now facing biological warfare aswell."

I said after listening to the audio log.

We started to run out of the base. And we bumped into a familiar face. It was an African American woman. She once helped me during an operation when I was still a rookie.

"what are you doing here?!"

She says in a panicked whisper.

"I'll explain, i have the details about the superweapon!"

We snuck out but one of the soldiers spotted us. He immediately transformed into his Sigbin forn and chased us while calling for backup.

"GAGO! WHAT DO WE DO?!!"

Crispin panicked like he always does.

"the military train!!!"

I said pointing at a train transporting military weapons and vehicles.

We leaped onto the platform and the train began to depart. The clacking of the wheels against the metal railway gets quicker as the train accelerates. After what felt like forever chasing the moving train, we finally jumped onto a flatbed car.

"phew we made it!"

Alex says. But we all panicked when we heard the noise of a military chopper and sirens coming from the jeeps of the local military police.

"are those cops?"

Hank asked.

"no they're not! Ever since the current president assassinated the former president, he replaced the Pulau Police Force with the Pulau Military Police and they're completely "tanga"."

I said as I took one of the weapons from a cargo train wagon and found an RPG.

"Why would you think theyre stupid?"

Alex asked in confusion while trying to fight off the soldiers who were able to get on the train.

"Because all they do is arrest innocents, send them to reeducation and labor camps, then kill anyone who has opposing opinions! By the way I'm Elise!"

Said the american agent who was with us.

"ok! Wind girls! Blow their jeeps into trees!"

I ordered and the girls started to push the Jeep into trees causing accidents.

"Mga Kambal! Escort my sister and head for the cockpit and she'll hack this autonomous train."

"Ill blow the helicopters up!"

"and lastly Hank, Get a weapon!"

I ordered all of them.

"Oh yeah!!!"

Hank says as he found an AK 47 Kalashnikov which was sold by the Russian Military to the Pulau Military.

After my sister hacked the train. We managed to get away because she sped up the train but there was a problem, the bottom of the mountain was a train station, and it still had a Train waiting for passengers to board.

"we need to stop the train sis!"

"i cant!"

My sister said as the train started to move faster downhill. I decided to pick up the radio and contact rail control.

"this is uhh... train no. 0448 we have lost our brakes and we are going faster than intended, olase evacute the Pekan Tinggi station immediately!"

The authorities immediately evacuated the station while we jumped off the train to the wet jungles.

The train crashed and derailed causing extreme damage to the station but no injuries and casualties. We were forced to ealk through the jungle until we find a street

[moyazaika]

KUINA. MOTHER? IS THAT MOTHER?? Everyone else out here lookin busted af meanwhile queenie is standing there PLUCKED not a hair out of place. She graduated from the university of cuntology with a degree in servitude of motherology and minored in face card banking. I'm sorry she was letting y’all HAVE IT.

Good to have you back! Hope you are coping with the impending doom of summer, where the sun has no mercy and the shade is scarce. Recently I've discovered this fun little movie called Martin from 1977, it's a vampire movie from George A. Romero (the dude behind the og zombie movie, Night of the Living Dead) and it's super fun! I say a vampire movie, but is our boy really a vampire? It's something I like to think about just a lil 🤔 delusional characters r my thing.

OH MY GODNESS YOU UNDERSTANDDDD 1000000% there are people out there who truly believe that the best, most pure way to keep someone with them is to take all of them. Cannibalism is such an intense device in storytelling, especially as a metaphor and I LOVE IT SO MUCH. That kind of obsessive “love” is scary, not just because of the actions a person may take, but the feelings they harbor. People who are so far gone that the only world they live in is the one only they know and experience? What do you mean you think eating someone is the only way to keep them with you??? What version of The Very Hungry Caterpillar were you reading??? This entire topic reminds me of how love and consumption go hand in hand. If someone wants to go as far as to eat someone they love, do they love them? Or do they want to consume them, own them, possess every fiber of their being and become one with them so they can feel complete again? Does possessing a beating heart mean the same as possessing one torn from the chest of a loved one?

also. What does it taste like? I'm just curious. I've heard human meat tastes like chicken.

The other trope I’ve been sent tumbling back into is the classic cult story, maybe it's because I just rewatched Hereditary? I think that demons, or entities of incompressible power, are scary because they can't be emotionally swayed. There's physically nothing you can do or say to persuade an entity that has existed for far longer than you could ever hope to, so you have to shut up and take whatever kind of pain they decide to grace your senses with. How do you change a god's mind? What do you mean I can't mansplain my way out of this one? Y'all why don't valak want me 😔 can't malewife or manwhore our way outta this one fellas 😢

maybe I should stick to human men. - 🕺🕺🕺

just dug this up too cus im going thru asks tonight (i took a 5 hour nap and sleep evades me now. help it’s 3am)

she’s fucking gorgeous serving looks the entire time and i love how that,, didn’t take away from her character complexities. yes she was hot. she also had a complex backstory and emotions which were woven into her character as a woman and fighter. Love how they handled her!!!!!!

i love the way you measure time or describe seasons. it’s so oddly endearing <3

“what version of the very hungry caterpillar were you reading” dawg these bitches were eating the book not reading it 😭😭😭

did yk interestingly there’s a disease where your own proteins go ‘rogue’ (prions) when you consume human meat? i think it’s called kiru/kuru?? they eat the brains of deceased people as a funeral rite (not sure if that’s rooted in respect or love) but it’s crazy to think that this is like. Something Humans Do. yk?

i’ve heard the same!! (fbi agent please don’t hurt me) but speaking of cannibalism i feel like u would love the hannibal tv show. (symbolism is INSANE in this one. also they’re hot as fucj oh yeahh) or yellowjackets. i haven’t finished either but i’ve been told they’re VERY promising from the few eps i saw before life was like Damn Bitch get back on the grind 🤬🤬🤬🤬

I LOVE HEREDITARY the sinking feeling when it dawns on you that they’re all insane. they’re all fucking insane and they believe in their insanity to such an extent convincing them otherwise is a waste of your time. both the God and their followers—nothing you can say to weasel out of this one.

i love a good cult story i have something in my wip but it’s more of a long term project i wanna make a series of (again, once i graduate 😥😥) but oooooh boy Many Thoughts Thunk. the abuse of power… misplaced trust… the feeling of something being just. not normal. even tho it should be. even though everyone around you says it is. the paranoia. YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😊😊❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[oliveoilsoda]

Today I Beat: Moon Remix RPG Adventure

Moon is a hard game for me to talk about. Not for the lack of anything, far from it, this game is filled to the brim with charm and strangeness but merely for the fact that I dont quite know where to begin. Ill start with the aspect of the game that I can speak the least about which is the gameplay. The game is best known as an "anti-rpg" and the gameplay reflects this by kinda not being an rpg. It plays a lot more like a point and click game but without the pointing and clicking. Most of the time your walking around and showing things to characters in hopes that they have something more useful to say then "huh?" and when your not doing that, your walking around aimlessly. A good chunk of the puzzles in this game can be pretty obtuse and any consistent flow of progress can be halted simply due to schedule conflicts. And while a part of me often felt frustrated that I had no clue what to do, the other part understood that it just came with the territory of being an "anti-rpg"; a rpg where you dont fight.

The term of "RPG" is used pretty loosely when used to describe games. Despite standing for "Role Playing Game", rpgs are known more commonly for how you play them. Killing enemies to gain XP so you can level up to kill more enemies and so on until you can kill the big bad. This is where the story of moon comes in, by putting you at the other end of the sword. While I wont be spending much time going over the story as I think its best experienced by playing the game and not listening to some autistic girl blabble on, I will relay the general gist of the game. The game starts as a fairly generic rpg, shining armor and all, but just as you reach the end, the perspective changes. You are no longer a knight on a mission to slay a dragon but a child controlling said knight but just as he is ready to walk away for the night, he gets sucked into the tv. It is then your job to save the souls of the "monsters" slain by the knight, acting almost as an angel (albeit in the form of a dead child rather than a divine being but I digress). With all of this being said, its time for me to divulge into what truly makes this game special to me: its style.

To this day I have yet to find a game that quite looks like moon. Its almost as if the developers were throwing art styles against the wall to see whatever stuck and just, nothing fell off. The game uses pre-rendered images for the backgrounds which isnt at all unusual especially for ps1 games but its in moons disinterest of realism where they truly feel unique.

Often, the game will not only used pre-rendered images of early cg settings but will then add real images into them, making them make the distinction between what is real and what is cgi all the more apparent. One could analyze this as a metaphor for the games themes, a digital world clashing with human emotions but I think thats missing the forest for the trees here. The clashing of both elements make for such a distinct style and thats not even mentioning the character designs.

You could have told me that every character in this game come from different games with radically different art styles and I would have no reason to disagree. However with the game being as strange as it is, no one feels out of place. And I havent even gotten started on the claymation sprites.

Im a big big stop motion fan so naturally when i found out that all 51 "monsters" are animated using said medium, I stood up and did 2 cartwheels.

Its a great way to distinct them from anything else in the game as saving their souls is the main focus of the game. It reminds me of old cartoons where you could tell what would move or not based off the coloring. If this doesn't show how you special of a game this is I dont know what will.

My personal favorite aspect of the game, however, isn't the graphics, isn't the gameplay, but the soundtrack or rather lack thereof (in a traditional sense).

In moons ambitious goal to subvert almost every norm in gaming, most of the game takes place in total silence with the exception of your own foot steps, occasional ambiance and a rare dramatic sting. Thats not to say the game has no music in it though, far from it. Instead of your normal scripted music, game features what is, in essence, a built in mp3 player.

However instead of adding your own music, the game features 36 songs, MDs as the game calls it, all ranging in artist, genre, and even tone. Some songs will act as a mellow ambiance and others lean closer to breakcore. This MD is my personal favorite:

As this "review" ,or whatever you wanna call it, comes to a close, id like to talk about my favorite scene in the game.

-SPOILERS AHEAD-

Once you've completed your mission of constructing the rocket, your sent into the abyss of space and for almost 10 minutes your just venturing quietly into the stars with nothing much happening. That is until a character who i will not name, fades in and out of existence on top of your ship and the melancholic masterpiece of a song "Promise" starts to play

He tells you:

"Soon your journey will come to an end.

When one journey ends...another journey begins.

Life is like one night's dream.

Waking and sleeping

Birth and death.

Many things appear and vanish.

What has vanished appears.

You and I are no exception.

Throughout the universe...everything dies, and is born

Life rolls on down the road.

The question is, when you wake from the dream, when will you set out toward another dimension? Will you be able to open the door?

Soon you will reach our final destination.

Perhaps we'll meet again, at the side of some road.

Goodbye."

9/10

[snaileo]

Top 5 batshit characters you’ve encountered

in Nooooo particular order...hmmm i really gotta think about this cuz i feel there are Easy ones i could list. but then again this isnt objective, nor do i need to dig deep for this to be a nice list. 1. Umataro Tenma

Of course I feel the first i should mention is Umataro Tenma. like I can't start this list off any other way, this man recreated his own son in the form of a robot and then abandoned him when his senses came to him ( but they left as soon as they showed bc man was back on his bullshit next day) like truly. Batshit King. and thats only his most well know Shit. like this one time he deliberately went back in time, i dont even remember what for, i think it was steal the not Yet Awake atom, and his younger self SEES HIM and LIGHTS HIM UP. theyre BOTH batshit young and old

like. i feel like we dont talk about how tenma was strapped enough.

2. Terry Silver

The next batshit queen on my mind recently is none other than Terry Silver. It Is Very Normal And Well Adjusted Behavior to terrorize a teenager, torturing him physically and emotionally, all because your Bestie, Your Cinnamon Fucking Apple, told you to. You know. Very Normal Behavior for people in their idk. 40s. Dude is a coked up billionaire and he wanted to play the part of Humble Down to earth man so well that he bought a beat up truck, all just to fuck with daniel.

And Oh Totally normal to go through extensive therapy, turning your life around and overcoming it all, only for it all to be undone because?? Oh?? My Wrongdoings CAnnot BE UNDONE??? BY SAYING IM SORRY???" like the moment he realized daniel wasnt gonna accept his sorry ass excuse it was Over. 30 years of therapy down the toilet.

3. Diva

Here's a more tragic one. The me from 6 years ago would kill me right now for even posting her face because I use to be SUCH a stickler for spoilers regarding her but idc right now

ANYWAY shes for real batshit and shes one of those characters who you can be sympathetic towards, the tragedy of knowing how she got to be this way but god you deserve everything coming to you. There are many things she does as truly batshit but an often forgotten one is stealing the shoes of a man she just killed. And she's later shown putting them on, before continuing her killing spree and doing something that altered the trajectory of the story forever

she also has an operatic voice, which her singing alone is an omen for bad things to come

4. The Monarch

This is a more recent one as rock had showed me The Venture Brothers and i hate this man. I hate him and i love him. I don't have much to say other than i want to bully him I genuinely want to bully him

hes just so pathetic. he didnt want rusty getting therapy because he couldnt shit on his day , because well...he was in therapy and theres rules, so he killed his therapist so he'd be free. to. Shit on his day like i dont kno waht to tell you.

5.Hannibal

this one may feel cheap but understand that like. him being batshit is the greatest thing ever .and hes def one of my favs in terms of being batshit. he made the show such a wild ride and like Cookie I am Looking at you we WILL watch Hannibal (tv show) idk wanna say anything else for spoilers but yeah theres some batshit characters for u

[jones-friend]

Im curious if anyone else has been keeping up with the last of us show, spoilers and thoughts under the cut.

So. I played the game on release 2013 and its stuck with me. I liked it a good deal back then and today I have more mixed feelings. I’m struggling to beat tlou2 because every time naughty dog opens up an open ended section it makes me want death.

I was curious to see what tlou would look like as a prestige tv show bc that’s what the original game was trying to emulate. Its like dinosaur chicken nuggets, its gone back on itself.

I felt Pedro Pascal was a bit of a soft choice for Joel but seeing the first two episodes Im happy to say I was wrong. He does Joel well in how he acts. Its great!

Theres also a number of smart changes made to make the translation work that I think other media can stand to learn from: like the opening newscast to smaller bits placed here or there that do work, credit where credit is due.

Whats been bugging me more is the last two episodes in Kansas City (in the game this is the Pittsburgh segment). Episode 4 is… kind of a mess. At least it felt that way to me. They recreated the human hunter ambush, but they took the edge off and tried to humanize the attackers? After he repeatedly goes “you’re gonna die” to Joel choking him out, then a moment later the show wants to garner sympathy for him? I’m a touch confused.

And the human hunters are just people who overthrew FEDRA (think if the military was deployed to handle COVID) and its all just… kind of very weak. Henry’s brother has leukemia so they turned in the resistance leader for medicine. And when the resistance leader finds Henry and confronts him no one makes any choices because a zombie interrupts the scene so we don’t really get any impactful story choices.

The sniper also bothers me bc they’re softening Joel and at this point in the show I’m not quite sure why. In the game Joel didn’t hesitate to use violence to make ends meet bc the game wanted to address the whole murderous 3rd person shooter tonal dissonance. So game Joel does not hesitate to pop someone who is threatening his tribe, be it Ellie, Tommy, Henry, etc. Show Joel allows the frail old sniper man (a military asshole in the game) to put the gun down instead of coming out popping. He also tries to justify why he ambushed people.

This is all to say the show is trying to say something about the morality of actions and with the episodes we have it isn’t working for me. Not when we have a (lovingly crafted and executed, I love the Bill changes) romance episode that isn’t well integrated with the rest of the show. Its making flaws of the show stand out, but when I look back to the source material it makes the flaws of the game stand out. Somehow, the show is making me dislike the original game. Its odd.

[rubarb69]

Using this as a jumping off point to rant about tv in a hopefully somewhat structured way.

Star trek writers arnt to blame, nor are other writers for other shows really, (they get some blame but not the majority) This issue comes from how creatively bankrupt tv in general, but especially modern tv is. (I could get into how i define that, but to put it simply when i say modern tv i mean shows that came after friends; there was a 10-ish year transition when that style was developing, but the major turning point for tv was friends. Tho durring that same time other shows were also creating the tone almost all shows use, tho that gets more into my issues with hour long dramas)

I feel like the root of the problem is that tv is alot of the time not made because someone has passion for an idea, but because the idea will make money; (the issue is money, money corrupts art.) If your making a show your gonna be thinking about who the show is for, and usually the awnser to that question is the majority, which leads to characters that are akin to white bread, the most basic untextured and flavorless characters you can find, take a look at the state of gay characters in media, gay main characters are treated like Syphilis, because they can be alienating, so the gay characters are almost always the side characters (tho some shows can pull this off and make it ok, the larry sanders show being one of them, with their use and characterization of Brian, tho im not saying that show is perfect either) so they can be pushed aside and made into the joke. But also still be in the show, all in an attempt to fence sit and please both queer people and homophobic people; and all of this is in a vain attempt to appeal to as many people as posible so they can make as much money as posible. Take the show married with children, or home improvment for an example; theyre not bad shows, but they majorly lack in the story and characterization department. You may be saying "but those shows are meant to be funny 30 min sitcoms, not artistic endeavours"

And that is a fair opservation, but can comedy not be artistic? Can it not have story and intresting characters? Should stories be made just for cheap laughs and nothing more? Who knows, but what i do know is that the best in that genre are both shows that do more than their timeslot is known for. (the shows im talking about are mash and loudermilk)

Lets first look at mash for a moment, this show was very important for the time, and is still a very important show with the topics it covered; and did well, mind you; it covered the idea of an unjust war and how it effects the people involved just as good as a similar but diffrent movie, Hair (1979). But its also a really funny show, and did all of that with the 30 min sitcom timeslot. Id go as far to say its the best 30 min show ever made but thats just me.

Now moving on to a more recent example, loudermilk. Personally i really loved this show but i havnt seen many people talk about it so ill give yall a little synopsis; essentially its about a guy, whos an ex critic and recovering alcoholic, who runs a support group, and the story is based around that; which is a very unique consept considering its a 30 min sitcom style show. Not only did it fully pull off the consept, but it also told a meaningful and insightful story while also being funny. So really there isnt any reason funny shows cant have meaning or substance, the reason alot of shows lack that is because they lack care for the consept, or care for the show itself, which makes it clear that theyre really just a cash grab or tax write-off.

Another issue i see alot with shows and franchises is milking it for all its worth, not knowing when to stop beating the dead horse. There are tons of examples i could use, but i think for right now ill go with marvel since its wildly popular and everyone knows of it; (arguably star wars is a better example but im too biased against it to really talk about it) marvel movies really started off great, they had a story they wanted to tell and they did a good enough job doing it, and it made alot of money. Because of that they kept going and making movie after movie and show after show, that lead to where we are with marvel now, mostly trash content made to appeal to as many people posible, that has no real meaning or insite into anything really and no real artistic merit. This is because when people capture lighting in a bottle they dont know when to stop and end up totally ruining something that couldve been stand alone and good. On the other side of the spectrum, a show/shows that did this perfectly was breaking bad/better call saul. Both of those shows had the story they wanted to tell planned out from the start, or at least it seemed like they did. And when it became wildly popular they didnt decide to make 11 seasons and milk it for cash, they stayed true to the story and pulled off some of the best endings in tv ive ever seen. (And as a side point, did a fucking amazing job at characterization, especially with jimmy mcgill/saul goodman.) Show runners and companies just dont know, or dont care about knowing when to stop, they want to keep the show going as long as they can with wild disregard for what that means for the story and the characters; which is just another major peice of evidance that tv, but to a lesser extent all media is extremely creatively bankrupt.

Anyways this is 1000 words too long and nobody really cares so... in an attempt to connect this more to the original post my closing statment is that: spock cant ever be gay because it isnt profitable.

star trek writers need to accept that they are Never beating the gay spock allegations

[theodoraflowerday]

heartstopper s2e8 live episode reaction

well I mean I sobbed my eyes out with this last episode, let's see what awaits us

COLOURS OF YOU???????????????

OH

OH MY GOD

that is SUCH a full circle moment to see nick coming out fr in public with colours of you playing

so they're gonna kiss in public tarcy style and imogen is gonna see them and be like "oh. OH" and it's gonna be a never ending cycle of baby queers, right? RIGHT?

CARLY RAE JEPSEN????

sad about darcy

oh my god nick's laugh that was THE CUTEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

MISS SINGH AND MR AJAYI OH MY GOD

true gay/lesbian solidarity going on there

lmao nick and charlie are about to become the #1 couple at truham lol

I'm gonna get a tattoo that just says "I'm bi, actually"

nick and tao bestieism <3

no I'm dying I love nick and tao being besties this is the greatest development from this tv show

TAO IS TALKING ABOUT HIS DAD OH FUCK

"don't be weird about it" "I'll try" oh okay

y'all would get along really well. a dead dad and a deadbeat dad. besties.

OH MY GOSH NICK LOOKS SO DAPPER MY BABY

CHARLIE W THE BOWTIE IT'S A YES FROM ME

THE IMAGINARY THING FROM PROM NOOO THAT WAS SO CRINGE I LOVE IT

I'm obsessed with them always making decisions as a couple

always we we we what is this an ambulance jfc

DARCY BABY NO

and what are your intentions with my elle? JSKDJSKFJDKFJ

I love elle's parents so fucking much

I want a group of friends aaaaaaaa

SAHAR LOOKS SO CUTE

TAO AND ELLE'S PICTURES SKDJSKFJDKF

oh my god the rugby lads

"IS TARA JONES SINGLE?" "SHE'S GAY M8 EVERYONE KNOWS THAT"

THEYRE NOT PLAYING JUST LIKE HEAVEN

tao and elle are THE most fabulous couple sorry they're just glowing

I cannot BELIEVE they're actually doing sapphic imogen fancying sahar, my god

CAN WE LEAVE

oh my fucking god nick and charlie are the greatest love story in the planet

DARCY DARCY DARCY

oh oh fuck no Tara

oh my god darcy's mother is a fucking psychopath

"you've only ever seen half of my life" "and now I'm seeing the other half and I still love you" oh eternal sobs

SEVEN????? SEVEN!!!!!!!!! SEVEN

TARA AND DARCY SET TO SEVEN IM SOBBING

this song is the most darcy song in the planet and now we have a paris gang montage set to seven I'm in tears

I am not immune to folklore

oh my fucking god I need BOTH of them to win awards for this season

NICK

NICK NO

NO

OH MY GOD IS HE

BSODJSKDJDLDJSOFUDODIELEJELE

I LOVE YOUR HAIR SO MUCH

AND I LOVE YOUR EYES

SOTODIFODI STOP IT

THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE FOR NEXT SEASON STOP IT NICK

oh

oh my god sarah

oh my god my heart is beating so fast holy fucking shit

my heart's beating so fast I really thought he was going to say it

NO

NO DON'T SEND THAT SAY IT TO HIS FACE IAKDJSJDKSJDKSDJ

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

oh wow

I know season 1 is the ultimate comfort watch but this season was the greatest season of television I have ever seen

[everyonedni]

The framing device is a news reporter (plushy) doing an interview piece with all the members of the up and coming piece of shit industry

Plushy talks to person about backstory

Scene fades to flashback plushy exits and all characters for backstory enter

At climax/dramatic end song

SONGS

-Plankton duo (Just a greasy stove)

-biggering

-into the woods

-jekel and hyde

-outro by Shrek

Partyshark:

Plays plushy axolotl

Interviewer interviewing different characters

Shrek:

kind of a mr krabs character. He has a reason and backstory for this.

Treats Xavier like Squidward, but worse

Xavi:

Two different characters: Xavier and Xavier’s soul

Manager handling reception

Emerald:

Skincrawler

Joke - I come from Emeraldsville, where nothing ever happens, literally

Justin:

Jekyll and Hyde type character

Party plays reflection

Joke - Mr boopkins makes joke about how instead of doing HR things he will turn people into human resources

SCRIPT ROUGH DRAFT

PART ONE:

PLUSHY: 

Welcome to the broadcast. And welcome to our show. Our story’s super scattered, the genre no one knows.

But we offer tales of past. Seen across the years. Of many different people [yelling]. Lets kick it to high gear!

[lights switch on, plushy walks backward]

[All cast enters]

This is our small little town of New Fredrickson, home to industry and invention. The streets are wide, the allys narrow, and you can find just about anything and i mean ANYTHING on these streets. Wink wonk! 

[music beat every one exits except plushy]

And you might be wondering [in deeper mocking voice] “who are you” well my dear viewer who looks dumb talking to your tv screen I am the head writer and reporter for the moss times. And WE (i say we so you feel included but your doing diddly squat) are interviewing the newest and possibly greatest company to come out of this crumby town!

[Sound of glass being broken as plushy enters a window] [screams]

[plushy is beaten out of window]

Plushy: wrong window

[sound of second window being broken as plushy breaks the correct window]

Xavi soul: Door is over there.

Plushy: Your Xavier right?

Xavi soul: His soul! We’re a bit short-staffed so he’s handling management and im-

[Xavi motions around]

Plushy: neat neat, didn't ask, can I talk to your boss slash body?

Xavi Soul: If you have an appointment

Plushy: I do! Not! Which way is he?

[Xavier soul pauses for a long moment before calling out for Xavier]

[xavier come in from stage (left or right depending on the stage)

Xavier: what.

Xavier soul: the fish wants to talk to you!

Xavier: Do you have an appointment?

PLushy: Nope! 

[pulls out mobile office]

But I won't take too much of your time, take a seat take a seat! Im writing a piece on POS industry and wanted to interview only the most IMPORTANT members.

Xavier: [flatterd] Oh, well in that case, interview away

Plushy: You must be very dedicated to your company to separate your soul from your body!

Xavier: Well about that

INTO XAIVERS BACKSTORY

Xavi’s part:

Xavier: *Drags a cigarette* Tell me, you ever heard of a place called Vallesia?

[Plushy shakes her head]

(I imagine there’s an animation playing in the background as he narrates the scene)

Xavier: It was my home before the war. Lived there with an old friend of mine. To make a long story short he pranked me by making me immortal and condemning me to a life of eternal unrest.

Plushy: It kinda be like that sometimes.

[Xavier nods solemnly]

Xavier: Anyway fast forward a couple thousand years the gods all killed each other or something, the world’s been reborn, but I’m still the same old immortal me. So now I'm thinking: ‘Damn, this undeath curse kinda blows.’ So me and my aforementioned friend set up a lab in Handleberg, thinking we can distill a cure y’know? We needed money to fund our research and well… that's when I met Mr. Doc Shrekbot.

Plushy: That’s the CEO of this place right?

Xavier: Yes ma’am. He put me in charge of management and finances. I was feeling a little hungry one day so I spent some company budget on cupcakes, and also some thigh highs, perfectly reasonable purchase am I right?

Plushy: Definitely. Everyone needs at least one pair of thigh highs.

Xavier: Right? Anyway, turns out $17 was enough to plunge our company into crippling debt so the CEO took my soul as payment.

Xavier’s Soul: Oh! That’s me!

Plushy: So people don’t need souls to live?

Xavier: *Shrugs* I think it’s just cause of the whole “immortal” thing. But yeah, I’m kinda stuck in corporate limbo for now.

COMING BACK OUT OF BACKSTORY

Well, that's certainly going to open you guys up to some sort of lawsuit from some sort of player rights group. Thank you for your time.

[plushy starts to crawls back out of the window to come face to face with Emerald

Emerald: Hey, I'm security, I’m here about someone who broke in by smashing a  window?

Plushy: Huh, didn't see anyone doing… that. Oh! But I'm here to interview members of pos-

Emerald: IT STARTED LONG AGO!

Plushy: oh um well I was hoping for something more recent?

Emerald: IT STARTED VERY LONG AGO

[lights dropped except a single green light over emerald]

INTO EMERALDS BACKSTORY

Emerald’s part:

When I left my hometown of Emeraldsville, where nothing ever happens, literally

and encountered a Pig named steve

(Shrekbot enters wearing a war pig skin)

Steve was no ordinary pig, he was a battle hog

“Hi, nice suit of armor you have”

Shrek: “Thanks. My grandmother died making it”

Emerald: “That’s depressing”

Shrek: “That bitch never baked me cookies, I should throw some dough down there and watch it cook”

(Xavier walks in with granny pig skin and burns using fire resistance potions)

Emerald: This battle hog was not very nice, we became friends quickly, but it was short-lived because of the war that happened between the Pigs and the Emeralds due to lack of cookies

I was drafted into this war after a grenade eating contest went ary and killed my father

(A few extras walk in wearing an assortment of emerald skins)

“Cmon guys why do I have to be the negotiator, nothing good comes of negotiators”

All Extras: “Because you lost the Emerald-Diamond-Gold match”

Emerald: “YOU CHEATED!”

All Extras: “L Bozo”

Emerald: I went into the woods to go negotiate

(Modified version of “Into the Woods” plays)

When I finally got there, the Pigs were ready to attack

(Cuts to extras wearing armor ready to attack)

“Oh god, what do I do”

(Shrek goes right behind Emerald)

Steve: Hello, OLD FRIEND

Emer

OUT OF BACKSTORY

Plushy: Well! That was certainly something. I um. Look at page 80 for your story in the next issue

[lights go off and emerald exits]

Plushy: This is an aside! The paper only has 60 pages

[She slowly backs back into the window and comes face to face with Justin]

Plushy: [startled] HOLY HR! YOU! Your the goat hr. Hr goat. I um. Alright mr…

Boopkin: Boopkin

Plushy: Boopkin, walk with me, I'm interviewing people from pos industry and you are JUST the player I wanted to talk to

Boopkin: You wanted… to talk to the HR guy?

Plushy: YES! Hr is the heart of a company, is it not? Anyways, tell me how you got here!

Boopkin: I walked here

Plushy: I mean here in your life, how did you end up as the HR of POS industry?

Justin’s Part:

Boopkins: Well I didn't used to always be like this, I used to be a regular goat just like the rest of them

Plushy: What do you mean by them?

Boopkins: Turn around

[*shot pans in on goats shuffling in from the background that are there for literally no reason. goats shuffle out of view]

 I was even in the world before the war. Granted I wasn't sentient as I am now, annnnd i didn't have this swanky suit. Made from pure goat fur, might I add.

Plushie: …

Boopkins: What don't look at me like that feel how fluffy this suit is

[ grabs plushies hand and brings it to the arm of the suit] 

Plushy: Oooo that is fluffy, how is it so soft but so sleek looking at the same time (starts feeling the suit more) I wanna play with this joke of plushy just getting addicted to the fluffiness of the suit and just more aggressively feeling the sleeve.

Boopkins: That's just one of the amazing things about goat fur, but that's for another time though I guess, back to the story. 

In the world before the war I was, as I said nothing more than a simple mountain goat. (The pack of goats shuffle into view again and quickly disappear once more)

Plushy: wait where do they ke-

Boopkins: I was simply grazing on a mountain, yknow as we do when it seemed like the whole world itself started to shake. I was then swallowed by a bright light but I found myself on the same mountain completely unchanged. Except for you know sentience and now walking on two legs. Yeah never fully got over that not walking on four legs thing. It's a lot harder to ram someone with only two legs y'know. 

Plushy: *perplexed face*

Boopkins: By the way can you stop feeling my sweater.

Plushy: oops sorry its just reeealy soft. Continue, please 

Boopkins: Anyways, I found myself on the same mountain but everything else was different. A questionable amount of snow and dark oak forests might I add. As if the mountain itself was taken and just put somewhere else. Eventually after struggling down the mountain on two legs, which I later learned was called “Sparkle Peaks” I found others like me in this world who were from the last and eventually through that the now owner of POS noticed my uh… unique… skill set.

Plushy: What kind of skills would that be exactly?

Boopkins: oh you know Human Resources

Plushy: ummm, ok then I think that's, uh, thats all i need. Thank you for the words, Bye

[possibly jump out a window again?]

Shrek: you've asked all my employees this question so I think its only fair I ask you

Plushy: please don't

Shrek: How did you get here

Plushy: I walked?

[silence as Shrek stares at plushy]

Plushy: sigh

Plushy: You know of vallesia,

[midnightmisadventures]

Think it might be showtime so dream downys are on PRIVATE:

Um some weird shit, but i dont remember much honestly 

At a couple points i was with Liam. And We were sitting next to eachother in this....place....building. Idk it was some college setting. 

And as a group we were talking about things. Like our friends were there. But i made the decision to be friendly and not weird about sitting next to him, and like being in the convo. Cause it was still awkward between us. So i was looking at him while he told stories, and he was looking at just me more and more.

And idk, there was just this moment where i realized we were looking in each others eyes and i was like....omg! we love eachother again type beat. 

So that was soft and subtle. Then he was talking about this tv show he liked that he just started watching. So he’s talking about it in depth and explaining how its niche and not a lot of people know about it and then all of a sudden fucking priscilla’s friend from the BAR comes out of no where and is like 

“OMG!! YOU LIKE THAT SHOW I LOVE THAT SHOW no way” and then started acting so pick me and invading the conversation. And was like “i gotta start hanging out with you more, what type of marketing did you say your major was?”

And im like starting to subtly roll my eyes like ughhh as if, im not the one who chose his major like he doesnt even know anything about marketing?? thats so far off

And ally and i looked at eachother like fuckkk we hate her

But he made a POINT to not take the bait, and like dismissed her and continued to look me in my eyes and talk to me. And like cutteeeee, how progressive are we being via dreams!! We’re really looking out for eachother. So i felt soft and much nicer than i have been. 

I was eating blue berry pancakes with blueberry syrup

And then eventually it was just us talking still slightly awkward, and like how we always end up in dreams (& ig real life too), he started packing up and i was like “you heading out?” and he was like “yea i gotta leace for work” and i was chewing but tried to swallow fast bc i made sure to be like “have a good shift” cause we’re FRIENDS and i’m NICE 

Seee i can be nice to Liam if he doesnt show up as a literal stranger

swipe up for pt 2

[cadaverousdecay]

well this animation is about a few things; at the simplest level its based off that one painting The Treachery of Images by René Magritte that portrays a pipe and has text that says "Ceci n'est pas une pipe" (this is not a pipe). an image is not the object, its a copy of it.

the animation is about how everything feels like a copy more and more these days. theres not a single real pipe in the animation. theres an advertisement for one, theres a drawing of one, theres a copy of the drawing, theres a shadow of the copy of the drawing (the shadow being worshiped by the people in the cave in the wall is a nod to platos cave). but there is no actual pipe. just the idea of it over and over and over.

it can apply to many things, and i left it vague so people can give it their own meaning, but what i was feeling while i was making it was this utter sense of isolation. i have an idea of what connection is. and i crave it. but it never feels like im getting the real thing. i want to live but im so distanced from life.

they advertise life on tv. shows, movies, even commercials have people living. not actual people, but copies of them. and those copies are based on older shows based on older movies based on books based on countless other copies. it can get so far removed from what life actually is. copies are never the real thing, but hey. its all some people have.

if you cant afford a real pipe, you can smoke the pipe you see on tv to try to get any sense of living, as much as you can, but its never enough. so you try and create your own pipe, youve seen it on tv, of course you can replicate it. and it works! for a moment. until you see how flat it is and realize its an even worse copy. do you even know what a pipe looks like? what it feels like? the relief of the smoke in your lungs?

you cant think about those things or itll kill you. no, the only thing you can do is try again. make a copy of the copy create new things from the copy of the copy put the old copy into the new copy and smoke that. maybe one of these copies will end up right. maybe the shadow of your copy of a copy will reach someone and theyll see it and think "oh boy! this is what life and connection and living really is!"

but this is not. a pipe.

no matter how much art i see or movies i watch or books i read or stories i hear of people living. i am not. and i wish i were. cause nothing can beat the real thing.

but this was made one night (took me ten hours straight lol) almost 2 years ago. and ive been working on living. my biggest blocks were mental health stuff and ive really been getting better. its a slow process, but in the in between moments where i get to smoke the real pipe? when i feel like im actually living a life and being in the world? it has been incredible. and in the moments where all i have are copies? the copies arent so bad.

copies of copies of copies

[primatechnosynthpop]

Realizing that twice now I've looked at a moment from a spooky netflix teen drama and been like heheh this reminds me of kevin guaranteedvideo and made a silly little post about it, only for a random blog who I guess is just going through the tag for the netflix show in question to reblog my post without any commentary, leaving me to wonder... do they get the reference? Do they not get it but still find it amusing? Will their followers even know it's a joke without seeing my original tags or is my commentary going to appear completely asinine??

[xvnexx]

Random Twitter, Instagram Bios

“Mornings are for coffee and contemplation.” - Jim Hopper

“I always thought stuff like this happened in movies and comic books.”- Bob Newby

“let the bridges I burn light the way”

I think a lot, but don’t say much

Be more than what you’re worth

did you not see the crown I wear before you spoke?

any maybe one day you’ll find peace with yourself

this place aint for the faint hearted

don’t touch my crown with your filthy hands

make your own rules

yes I know im dramatic

surround yourself by those that will understand your heart and your mind

women power

emptying my life onto here

everyday is a different story, unless you’re me where everyday is one story about eating, sleeping and tv shows

what you’re about to see may be explicit

in conclusion Im bitter

story strong for yourself.

the heart is full of many secrets

all I want in life is glowing smooth skin

always aim for progress

you can still create art even with just one colour

collecting the moments

happiness is a great colour

when ever she/he comes close to me I alway hear the sirens

yes I still fucking post pictures of food

“lifes to short to be wearing boring clothes”

this is my story. it’s my art

don’t become dependent on others

nothing ever works out for me

don’t let the words of other change what you believe in

we can be friends if you understand my vine references

be someone who always keeps going

live life like you’re creating art; capture the beauty and erase the mistakes.

open your heart just enough to let the demons escape, not your soul.

always think positive, you’ll be happier

stand out from the crowd

lover of all thing pink and pastel

never give up on what you believe

never let other touch your crown, they’ll be quick to kick you off the throne

It’s you that I remember whenever my favorite songs are playing

she has thorns in her heart but still smiles

collecting the memories

happiness looks great on you

if show me your knife and I’ll show you sarcasm

Don’t let the actions of others portray you. paint your own picture

welcome to my art

inhale creativity, exhale originality

bitchin

I easily often everyone

try to find happiness in every situation

I still have that 2008 tumblr emo side to me

break the rules and create your own

queens supporting other queens

problematic but funny

you know its bad yet you still let yourself explore

hold on tight this ride is never stopping

just say it how it is and you’ll find the people that’ll never leave you

kindness is so slept on

sorry only I can touch my crown

if you believe their lies, you’ll become numb to the free and beautiful

if you never lay out the right foundation the future will never stand

see good in all things

do what bring light in your life

you’re not doing it right if you’ve still got money left in you bank account

good vibes only

let happiness override the sadness

bring out the light

find what puts the soul on fire

even just a gentle touch would break her/his fragile heart

put yourself first

yup thats right I still watch spongebob

self-care is important

a gallon of water every day, I still got bad skin I just gotta pee more

put it in reverse

finding the definition of life

the world beneath was crumbling and he/she still stood strong

back off bitch hiss hiss

im moving to bikini bottom bye mom.

short but simple

try even if you know you’re going to fail

when its dark let the smile shine through

On a never-ending journey on an adventure I’m still to find

Find yourself before you rescue others.

the heart still beats ever after its been broken

“Don’t you know I ain’t fucking with them good boys?”

always try to learn something new everyday

its okay to fight your own battles first before you fight in other peoples.

match my energy

watch me finesse yo dumbass

yes I own more than just one black shirt. I own 10

we’re all just stars lost in space

don’t let other make the rules for you

I want to create

comfortable silence is so slept on

and all it took was a touch of gold

“Ain’t you ever seen a princess be a bad bitch?”

never listen to those that they to darken the light in your life

im proud of myself

neither lost nor found

have a positive mindset

im honestly a troubled kid looking for dank memes

don’t look back, chase whats in front

no thanks, I don’t want leftover

I stare at the stars every night thinking what could have been

lets the sadness fade away

I should socialise more

the mark he/she left was eternal

ephemeral: lasting for a very short time

and she/he was idyllically innocent

scintillate: to emit sparks; to twinkle, as the stars

she/he was a psychedelic drug

I never listened to her/his mistakes but always heard her/his smile

choose life

you really tried it

its fine we all make mistakes, you were just born as one

explore to find what defines you

she cute but she also a psycho

sorry but the page you’ve found may be toxic for you

how far will you go?

Everything pours out

Break through the cage around her/his heart

She/he’s calling for a name, but it’s written in stone

if I let go of you, I’ll drop you to the ground

one you start counting the stars you’ll end up stranded

jammin to 2000 bops

its lifeless art

a princess

[burnedbyshoto]

the bodyguard

— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.

word count: 20,500

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“I’ll be okay.”

The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier. 

There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.

Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears. 

His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.

“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.

But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock. 

05:30.

Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.

“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.

Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.

I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.

Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services

“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”

Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.

Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.

It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.

“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”

Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.

“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.

Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.

The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.

“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”

Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.

“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”

Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.

“W-Wha—”

“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”

Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.

“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”

“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.

“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”

“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”

“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”

“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.

The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.

There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.

He was okay.

He was okay.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway. 

Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.

Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.

“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.

He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.

They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.

“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”

Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.

“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser. 

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”

“Toshinori—”

“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”

Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.

He had barely passed the admittance test.

“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”

Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.

Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.

Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.

It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.

“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”

“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.

“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.

“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.

Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.

You were tiny.

His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.

“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”

The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.

Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.

“Six months tops.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”

You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.

“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.

Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you. 

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information. 

“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”

“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”

Fuck, that one hurt.

You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”

“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”

Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.

“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”

It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.

“You got it.”

The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”

Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.

You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”

“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”

“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him. 

Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.

Or so the contract said.

“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”

You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.

“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”

You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.

“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”

Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.

Well, so much for a good case.

Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium

If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.

Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.

You always managed to sneak away from him.

Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.

And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.

“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”

“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”

“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”

“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.

You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you. 

There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?

He wanted to be just a fan.

“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”

He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!

The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.

“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”

And then there’s only silence.

Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.

Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.

Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower

Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.

He knew that.

He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.

You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.

You were a good person.

But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.

For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.

“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”

“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”

Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.

“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.

Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.

“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”

Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.

...how interesting.

“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”

Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.

“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.

But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?

“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”

“Very much.”

There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.

The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.

Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.

Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.

So much for change.

Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios

Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.

Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.

Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.

To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.

It had been a hard morning.

Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.

“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.

He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.

But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.

That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”

To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”

Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.

“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”

Oh, right.

He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.

“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”

Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”

Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.

“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”

“Compromises aren’t—”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”

“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.

“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”

“Wh-”

“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”

Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.

“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.

“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.

The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.

“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.

The van turns on.

Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground. 

He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.

Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor. 

With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.

T082-23

When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.

Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.

He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”

Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)

For now, he was waiting for you.

An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.

“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”

Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.

“Should we go?”

You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”

Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.

“Sure.”

And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.

The contract was then discussed.

It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.

Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.

“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”

“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”

“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”

The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?” 

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”

“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”

The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.

Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen

An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33

[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?

[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.

[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.

[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?

[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!

[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]

[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.

[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.

[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.

This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too. 

It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.

With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.

It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice. 

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed. 

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours. 

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit. 

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat. 

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules. 

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard. 

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock. 

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you. 

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine. 

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag. 

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all. 

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss. 

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched. 

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality. 

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you. 

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms. 

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown. 

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room. 

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima. 

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him. 

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming. 

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want. 

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move. 

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance. 

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again. 

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin. 

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap. 

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain. 

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good. 

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat. 

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you. 

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you. 

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers. 

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands. 

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center. 

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”