#it’s good for now i gotta keep reminding myself to put all the clips down first and fine-tune after lol

[eternalstateofoctober]

wish i were braver so i could talk to people about the ”everything at once” edit i’m making because i want ideas for shots to use!!

[tbnrpotato]

Our Own Choices

Chapter 9

"So how'd you know I was on that gunship? I was specifically extra stealthy that time," I ask Rex as we jump off the vehicle that Crosshair was driving as we arrive back at the base. I put on my helmet. 

"You've done it 19 times, kid. I know when you've clipped yourself to the outside of the gunship just by the sound of it," Rex replies, not bothering to look at me. He's not even bothering to scold me for coming here without his permission. I think he's just tired of me, he does have a job to do as a captain as well.

But why should I listen to him anymore? Even though he's technically my superior in the GAR, I don't need him anymore. I'm biologically 20, I can handle myself. But clearly he doesn't think so, considering how he usually doesn't let me on missions anyways. He says the reason that he grounded me was because he didn't want me getting myself killed out in the battlefield because of my impulsiveness.

"But there was no sound-" I protest as the bad batch walk past me, and I stare at them as they walk to their ship.

They're really cool. They don't fit in here, just like me.

Rex nudges me in the side, I take it as a sign to go to the ship as well. Rex says he talked to General Skywalker and he says that he'll have to wait for the council to approve of the mission to Skako Minor to get Echo. I'm surprised that he lets me come along on this mission. I guess he knows that there's no stopping me when it comes to saving my brothers.

As I head into the ship, I receive looks from the batch. 

"What?" I ask.

Tech looks back to his datapad, Wrecker goes to lift the gonk droid in the back of the ship, Hunter just sits there staring at me, and Crosshair is checking his rifle. I take off my helmet and lean against a wall, staring at Wrecker and the poor gonk droid, and then to toothpick boi.

Gotta admit, their armor is really cool. Crosshair's got that belt thingy with a bunch of places to store ammo, almost like my own. And then he's got that bar thingy on his left shoulder armor, probably for his rifle or something. Hunter has a random bandana for the dog shit on his head, with a small skull on it. Wrecker's helmet would scare the absolute shit outta me if I saw that first thing in the morning. Tech's helmet is cool, at least it hides his receding hairline. Whatever.  At least now I'm not the only one with dark-colored armor. 

Anyways, Rex and General Skywalker board the ship soon enough and we set off for Skako Minor. Tech's flying the ship, while General Skywalker checks out Crosshair's rifle and Wrecker's still lifting poor Gonky.

"So, how many missions has your team been on, Sergeant?" General Skywalker asks Shithair as he passes Crosshair's rifle back to him.

"Honestly sir, I've lost count. All the action sorta blurs together," Hunter replies, and that felt like a big "skill issue lmao" smack in the face.

"I know you work with Cody sometimes, but who do you guys report to?" Rex asks.

"Hm, good question," Hunter says, crossing his arms. "Can't say I've got an answer." 

And then I'm reminded of that "good question" Shrek meme that I saw on the holonet a few days before I came to Anaxes, and I try to keep a straight face.

Wrecker, who's still lifting Gonky, chews on a big ass chicken drumstick which I think was kept in the ship's storage area for days. Then, the ship suddenly shakes.

"We are approaching Skako Minor," Tech reports. "It looks to be a difficult landing."

So we strap in and Wrecker gently sets Gonky down, before going to the co-pilot's seat with Tech. The ship shakes a bit until we land on the ground, and we stand up and head towards Tech and Wrecker.

"Rex, what do we know about this place?" General Skywalker asks, Rex standing next to him. Toothpick boi and I stand behind them as I play with my knife, because I'm just kinda bored and need something to do with my hands.

"On this part of Skako, there's a race of locals, the Poletecs. All we know is they're very primitive," Rex replies.

"Primitive is being kind," Tech says. "My intel says the Poletecs worship flying reptiles."

Suddenly, one of those flying reptile thingies land on the front window of the ship, cracking it slightly. I look out, sheathing my knife into my wrist compartment.

"Oh! What the heck was that?" Wrecker looks out the same time as I do. "It's one of those reptiles," Tech says.

"I want that thing off my ship," Hunter says, sounding really annoyed, before moving to get off the ship.

"Hold on! Hold on! Don't just run out there," Rex tries to warn them but we all run out anyways because which one of us even follows orders?

We see the Poletec and a flying reptile thing jumping on the ship. General Skywalker ignites his lightsaber and Wrecker points his blaster at it, and I'm tempted to do the same.

"Hey! Get off of there!" Wrecker shouts.

"Hey, calm down. We needa talk to them," General Skywalker says.

"Why?" Hunter asks.

"The General's right," Rex says, and then I hear some more flying reptiles in the distance, and I spin around to look at them, blaster and sword drawn. General Skywalker pushes Rex out of the way so that Rex doesn't get clawed to death by the reptiles. We all point our blasters towards them, unsure of whether to shoot or not.

Suddenly, the flying reptile and the Poletec on the ship swoop down and grab General Skywalker. He's caught off guard, dropping his lightsaber, and I throw my knife at the reptile before it can get too far away. It hits the reptile in the chest, but not deep enough to be a lethal shot, although I can hear it screeching as it flies away. Rex fires his pistol at the reptile but none of the shots hit.

"I have a thermal reading," Tech says. "Point two five east, elevation 175." His visor is lowered.

"Relax. I'll handle this," Crosshair says, before attaching a grappling hook to his rifle and using Tech's shoulder as support (we'll never get to see this again this is so sad), shooting it at the reptile. It hits and Hunter attaches the cable to himself.

"What are you doing?" Rex asks.

"Going for a ride." And then Hunter's lifted off his feet, flying into the air.

I just stare at Crosshair, eyes widened. Holy shit that was fucking cool. Bro really has to be so pro at sniping.

And then I think of my own sniping skills which are slightly decent at best and suddenly I'm filled with a slight jealousy of his skills. Like bro he gets to be badass and do all those fucking trick shots and I'm stuck here throwing knives.

Shut up.

"Tech, I'm with the General. Hone in on my signal," I hear Hunter say through the comms. Tech and the rest of us head back to the ship and do so, before heading to Hunter's location. We land on a ridge near what looks like the Poletec village and run down to Hunter, who's near the edge, looking across at the village.

"That creature still has a hold of the General," Hunter says.

Rex zooms in on the village, and I do the same, seeing the General getting pinned under one of those reptiles' claws. "We're going in, but remember what the General said. No casualties, disarm only," Rex says.

"We're on it, Captain," Hunter says. "Wrecker, Crosshair, rockslide."

The rest of us slide down the ridge to the village as Wrecker and Crosshair push a really big rock down the ridge, and we run behind it as it knocks down some tall but not-so-advanced structures, using the dust as cover.

We shoot at the weapons that the Poletecs are holding, disarming them. I throw a few knives at their weapons, they all hit their target and disarm them. 

We run to the place where General Skywalker is, and I see some electrified thing hit the claw that's holding General Skywalker, probably shot by Crosshair, and the reptile jumps back, letting General Skywalker dodge the rock that's rolling towards him. We all point our blasters at the Poletecs in case they try to do anything. 

The Poletec that Hunter's pointing his blaster at speaks some alien language, and Hunter asks Tech to translate what he's saying.

Tech steps forward, presses a few buttons on that control panel on his wrist, and moves his visor down above his eyes. "He says he does not want our war on his planet. That is why he took our leader."

The rest of us still point our blasters at the Poletecs. 

Can we just hold them at gun/knifepoint and just get them to give us whatever info we want?

"We didn't bring the war here. It was Wat Tambor and the Separatists," General Skywalker says.

Tech translates what General Skywalker said into the alien language, something that both Crosshair and I find kinda funny as I'm tryna hold in my laughter as we all lower our blasters. Definitely gotta roast Tech for that.

"Tell him we apologize for what's happened," Rex says. "But tell him the enemy is holding one of our men prisoner in Purkoll.  As soon as we rescue him, we'll leave his planet for good."

Tech translates what Rex said into the alien language again, and I try my best to keep a straight face. This is just too funny. 

As Tech and the Poletecs talk some more and agree about sending scouts and stuff to help find the city, I run to the reptile that I threw my knife into and rip it out. It's wedged kinda deep in there, and when I pull it out, it's covered in red blood, dripping onto the floor. The reptile screeches and tries to attack me, but I shoot it with a stun blaster a few times and it's knocked out. The other Poletecs move to attack me, but then Rex and Tech help to calm them all down.

"Woah woah woah, calm down, she's just tryna get her weapons, no need to panic," Rex says, and Tech helps translate it. The other Poletecs calm down when what I think is their leader nods at them.

I pull my other knives out from the weapons that I threw them at and head back to the others.

"Nice going," Crosshair knocks his shoulder into mine as we set off with the other scouts, the sarcasm in his voice is obvious. I cross my arms as I follow behind him. "Thanks."

We follow the scouts quite a bit of distance and find ourselves on a really high cliff. The Poletec scouts point at what looks like Purkoll in the distance before walking down the direction we just came up in.

"Hope nobody's scared of heights," General Skywalker says. I try not to let it show, although sometimes heights get on my nerves.

Hunter and Crosshair look at Wrecker.

"Well I'm not scared of nothing. I just...When I'm up real high, I got a problem with gravity," Wrecker says.

"That's being scared of heights, Wrecker. You're real smart," I roll my eyes under my helmet, standing next to Rex.

"Speaking of problems," Tech, who's standing behind Wrecker, speaks up. "I am no longer picking up Echo's signal."

"I...I don't understand," Rex says. "You said it was coming from this city." He points towards Purkoll.

"I can only speculate, but it is possible there's a latency issue with the frequency caused by all these atmospheric disturbances."

"Or, maybe they sent the signal to lure us into a trap," Hunter suggests. "And maybe your friend's actually dead." He folds his arms. "Well, I can't be the only one thinking of that."

"Every mission could be a trap," Rex and I say at the same time, and I glare at him, falling silent. "This one is no different," Rex continues. "I'm telling you that signal is being sent by Echo himself! He's alive!" I nudge Rex in the side. "Be realistic, Captain. There's not really a high chance that that's gonna happen."

"I think you're letting your personal feelings get in the way because you left him for dead at the Citadel," Crosshair says, and I clench my fist around one of my knives, which is sheathed in my belt right now. That eagerness to punch him in the face out of pure anger, it's strong, but I resist it. Not really the logical thing to do right now.

"I had no choice, you hear me?!" Rex, unlike me, isn't doing much of a good job hiding his anger.

"Oh, I don't blame you. I would've left him for dead too. Besides, he's just another reg."

I'm breathing heavily under my helmet, one hand gripped on the hilt of my knife, the other with my nails digging so hard into my skin, even though my glove, it leaves marks. Even though Crosshair is directing his words towards Rex, it's having an effect on me as well. 

And then Rex punches Crosshair in the face/helmet, knocking him to the ground. 

"Yoooo Rex, just chill!" I try to get him to calm down, but he's not stopping. I pull out my pistol and point it to Crosshair's head as Wrecker picks Rex up by the back of his armor. "I called first dibs."

"Hey! Why don't you pick on someone not your size?" Wrecker throws Rex to the ground, who almost instantly gets up, walking up real close to Wrecker. "You'll be a whole lot smaller when I'm through with you."

My pistol is still pointed to Crosshair's head, my finger resting on the trigger, my other hand drawing my knife and pressing it under his helmet and to his neck, I'm breathing heavily, all sense of logic gone, it's the same feeling when Fox killed Fives. And it's strong.

"That's enough!" General Skywalker puts a hand on Rex and Wrecker's shoulders, pushing them away from each other before Wrecker beats Rex to clone mush, and then he pushes me and Crosshair apart before I can get any more blood on my knife. 

"Sergeant, take your men and scout the area for a tower entrance. I want to talk to my troopers alone," General Skywalker orders, sounding slightly fierce.

Rex and I stay behind as the batch walk away. Toothpick bitch glances back at us for a moment, before looking away.

"Rex, Aris, I hate to say it, but...you have to prepare yourself for the possibility that Echo is dead, and this is all a Separatist trick," General Skywalker puts a hand on our shoulders.

"Sir, I have watched so many of my brothers fall during this war, and I try not to hang on to any one of them," Rex says, taking off his helmet. "But that changed when I heard that Separatist transmission. It was no algorithm. That was Echo's voice. I know it."

"And if there's any chance that Echo, my brother, is still out there, alive, we have to take it," I add on, taking off my helmet as well.

"I hope you're right," General Skywalker says. "But if, for some reason, you're wrong..."

"Then I'll deal with it," Rex and I say at the same time.

And I've learned to deal with it on my own. No "Dad" to comfort me or help me. That's what I did with Fives. And if I have to do it again with Echo, I will.

All I'll need to do is constantly wipe the blood off my knives, and make sure no one sees the wounds on my arms.

[minato-division03]

Reiaki’s Thoughts on Roppongi Division

Kai Quinlan

“Oooooh okay okay! I’ve seen this guy around! I know he produced some of Miku-chan and Meari-chan’s music! I use his music all the time in my videos, myself! He puts out great stuff, what can I say! He has a radio show that people love here and he DJ’s at his wife’s club, so though I don’t see him in person all that much, I can at least say he’s very well-liked with over here in Roppongi!”

Mireya Quinlan

“Y’know, I kinda wish I could have the time to actually stop by the club and let loose. But there’s soooooooo many things keeping me busy! Not that I can complain, I love ever aspect of my life right now! But I don’t think I’ve went clubbing in like, what, three years? A lot of my friends in Hollywood often ask about nightlife in Tokyo. You know what I tell ‘em? That they should visit Gypsy’s Palace! I’ve seen what it’s like inside— duh— I’ve done her hubbie’s makeup there! Name aside, it’s really a great place to be and it’s nice to have this place in our hometown! It ain’t easy running a place on your own, so I gotta give credit where credit’s due! I just don’t know her personally enough to really talk about… her.”

Zakari Hiroya

“Well damn! We’re not that far apart in age, but he definitely reminds me of how I used to be in high school haha! Always seeking out the thrill of living on chance, not knowing whether your next little action can make you wind up dead. Yup! That was me alright! Looks like he’s still carrying that with him. Yknow what? Good for him! I’ve seen some clips circling the internet of the shit he does at his mom’s club! Goddamn, dude, you are something!”

“Hmmm, when I was a teenager, I spent more time around the streets or in underground fighting rings rather than being cozy in my family’s manor… I wonder if this guy’s ever been to one of those fighting rings! If he ever did and voted for me, I gotta thank him cuz man! I made bank back then!”

Private Party

“Y’know, I thought since all of us live in Roppongi, we’d all know everything about everyone. So imagine my surprise when the team representing my home is a group of people I don’t know too well! Wait… wait, wait, wait, wait! R.I.P Märchen, Oculus, Jet Set Trio… and now we have Private Party?! Hmm… hmmmmmm…. Arrgggghhh this is gonna make things so much more complicated! No more teams from this city! Please! Chuohku, you’re gonna ruin everything! No more!”

“Fine then, from one Roppongi native to another… best of luck! Don’t you let me down now!”

[alyosiuscreightonward]

Dear Diary. Talk about people who actually suck.

Recently my late husband’s dog passed away at 14 years old.

So…His kidneys shut down and he was sneezing and urinating blood all over the house. Plus he was 14 years old. It happened in a matter of days. I first thought he had lost another tooth and I went on about our lives. Then he just started to decline. He wandered around the house, just staring out and pee blood. Which leads him to start sneezing blood. I waited a day and told Childzillah we had to make that informed decision…

That’s what happened. I texted my dad on Father’s Day and wished him a happy Father’s Day but I was in a bad situation but I didn’t get into it with him.

Of course my sister had gotten those aforementioned texts just to shut the fuck up about it and leave me to grieve his passing. BUT NO!!!

My baby, my life, my heart, Harrowgate Broadchurch Cunningham Rogers has lost his pack. First was, The Emperor of Quail Village, Augustus Caesar Cunningham Rogers; he passed away due to neurological damage, he was 6 years old. Then there was, His Holiness, The Brother Levi Reddy Gudipally, he was 21. Now, CoCo Monaco Veronica Louise Ciccone Penn Ritchie Corleone The Third. However in between all this bullshit, my husband had passed away.

It was a trigger for me and I was dealing with it as best as I could. It reminded me of the days of yore when I had 8 friends die before I was 30 because of complications from AIDS/HIV. Okay. Not a fucking great time in my life. Granted my idiot sister wouldn’t fucking understand that pain since she’s 7 minutes younger than me and she’s constantly saying fucking shit like, “I’m the baby, gotta love me!!” Bitch. Please. Go ahead and have your Walmart Temper Tantrum elsewhere. No Sale here. I’m not feeding into it. “He’s picking on me!!” Fucking twat. Change your own fucking diaper.

As of this writing, I had every intention of calling my dad and telling him what happened BUT NO!!!

My sister fucking ratted me out. She put me on Front Street. She put that landfill on my dad’s property. Thanks a lot for that you stupid fucking idiot. “I’m SO going to TELL!!!”

I’ve been working on myself for years and now I’m dealing with shit better than before and the Lexipro is helping me not to feed into other people’s bull-fucking-shit. I’m of the mindset that if you tell me something, I believe in the sanctity of the confession and what you tell me, I’ll deny everything. “My name is Oliver North and I have no record collection of that memory.” I loathe telling folks that I’m dealing with my own bipolar depression, manic episodes of hypomania and suicidal ideations. I’m making progress. It’s a moment by moment thing.

Regardless of my rant, my sister will never understand how much she hurt me, again.

She’ll then claim I’m being so secretive about my life. Motherfucker, if I am able to tell you, then I would tell you and not put it in The National Enquirer or on TMZ. Nacho Bizness. Nunya Bizness. Not your story to tell. I have therapists who I confide in and not my family. They have a tendency to throw it up back in my face because they can and they will.

The love for my family is real and not just conditional. However I know that they don’t like me as a person because I’ve done shit and I’m not going to judge them but I’m going to say very clearly, that my dachshund and I WILL talk shit about them, but I’m not going to tell the world what I think because I’m irrelevant.

CoCo is going to rest in power but I will talk shit about him and not you.

Now you see why I stay over here and mind my business and I make every effort to keep myself out of your life and business. If you want me to tell you all about yourself, there’s going to be tears and they won’t be my tears. Trust and believe. I’m sure that you are not ready for my verbal and emotional abuse. I’m very good at it. My tongue is so sharp that it can and will clip the hedges. I’m going to annihilate you into a puddle of tears. Though this requires some effort on my part and I didn’t schedule that today but now, I’m going to tell her, that she can speculate about it since I’m not going to say shit to her.

Yeah I know that my dad worries about me but if it’s my shit then let me deal with my shit and don’t interject yourself in my business.

[rain-palmer]

I love my dog, I love him so much

“It’s bedtime, baby,” I say to him, closing my laptop with a satisfying snap. He’s been licking his paw for the past ten minutes, really getting in between those toes, it’s important that he finds the source of the itch despite it not having ailed him for several minutes. His brown eyes turn to meet mine for a momentary glance as I repeat myself. He doesn’t stop licking. “Okay, Bunny,” I say as I approach the gentle beast. 

He rolls over onto his side, exposing his belly as his tongue falls lazily out of his mouth, <pets,> he demands goofily. I give him a little scritch, tangling my fingers in his belly fur.

“We’ve gotta wake up early, Sun-bun,” I remind him. His tongue slips back into his mouth and his jaw clenches shut.

<I’m perfectly comfortable here,> he says, rolling back onto his belly and looking up at me with his face tucked between his arms.

“Your dad has already made the bed for us, let’s go find him.”

<I actually prefer it out here, you can leave me in this spot,> he snickers, he knows where I keep all the good snacks hidden.

“No, Sunny,” I cross my arms, beginning to feel frustrated, I know his tricks, “we go through this every night, and tonight is no different than any other.”

He sighs a big breath in protest, <I actually have to go pee,> he stands and shuffles towards the door and sits in front of it, facing me. 

“Do you really have to pee?”

<Yes, I swear,> the two of us are in a standoff. He leans towards the gnarled shoe rack, slowly parting his lips, threatening to chew.

“Ah-ah-ah!” I warn, “we’re not getting into that now,” I take a few steps forward and he quickly snaps back to an upright position, “alright, I’ll take you out, but you better pee.” I clip his leash to his collar and he stands at the ready, expectantly waiting for the door to open. 

The moment I swing the door open I am violently tugged down into the yard, <HEY YOU! I SEE YOU OVER THERE!> the alarmed glowing eyes of our neighbor’s cat flash back at us from across the street before it scurries off into the shadows, <DON’T THINK YOU CAN RUN, WISE GUY! I WILL FIND YOU AND I WILL GET YOU! AND WE WILL BE FRIENDS I SWEAR ON IT!> his tail wags frantically and full of excitement as we tug against each other in opposing directions.

“Sunny! Hey, calm down, it's too late for so much noise!” I attempt to scoop the nuisance up into my arms, but he slithers away to go sniff at the hedges alongside the house, “are you going to go pee?”

<I actually have to poop,> excitement always conjures a bowel movement in him. He begins to squat near the lawn chairs, but he decides that this spot isn’t ideal, so he squats near the hedges, but the wind isn’t blowing quite right, so he goes and squats near the tree stump, but he can’t quite face due south in this spot, so he goes back over next to the lawn chars and leaves a walnut sized poop, something I will deal with tomorrow. 

I lead him back inside and into the bedroom where his other dad has already settled in. As I dress myself in pajamas, he puts his face on the edge of the bed and and gives me a sorrowful look, <I can’t get up.>

“I’ve seen you do this a hundred times,” I say as I lift the large creature into the bed. I walk over to the light switch, ready to turn it off.

<Hey dad?> he pipes up.

“Yes?”

<I love you.>

“I love you too, baby,” I respond as I switch the light off.

2024

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slashers Toy Story!AU

Or, *cough* a way for me to write out a buncha funny Incorrect Quotes and smoosh two things I love together.

Woody: Jason Voorhees

Buzz Lightyear: Michael Myers

Jessie: Ghostface

Prospector/Stinky Pete: Roman Bridger

Bo Peep and Ham: Freddy Krueger

Mr Potato Head: Chucky / Charles Lee Ray

Mrs Potato Head: Tiffany Valentine

Slinky: Carrie White

Rex: Bubba Sawyer

Barbie: Jennifer Check

Ken: Patrick Bateman

Lotso-'O'-Huggin' Bear: Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt. Was gonna be Bo, but Hoyt just fits way better. Plus he has Thomas.

Chuckles: Monty

Big Baby: Thomas hewitt

The Chatter Telephone: Luda Mae Hewitt

Also, Sunnydale Daycare: Ambrose. Because why not.

*I'm thing the kids in Toy Story are the fanbase and creators of the Slashers in this AU. Like, Andy and Bonnie are the original creators that make up the canon stuff and created them to be the infamous characters we all know- and Sid is us fan-people that twist and distort the characters for our own pleasure, haha XD *

An abundance of Incorrect Quotes bellow the cut!

Chucky: *With all the features on his face mismatched*

Chucky: Hey Freddy, look! I'm Picasso!

Freddy: ... yeah, I don't get it. *Leaves*

Chucky: *what... * You uncultured swine!! *Shakes his fist at Freddy's retreating back. That was a good fucking joke, goddamn.*

~

Michael: *Writing down on whiteboard:* Excuse me... I think the word you're searching for is

THE SHAPE.

Jason: *Already so done with this edgy boy's bullshit*

Jason: *Moves attention to his own whiteboard, starts writing*

Jason: *Shows board*

NO. The word I'm 'searching for', I cant say, because there are preschool toys present.

*Gestures ferociously to Carrie and Bubba.*

~

Jason: *Ughhhh. Shows board that he frantically wrote on:* Its not a KNIFE! Its a little stick of plastic!!

Freddy: What's wrong with him??

Chucky: Knife envy~

Freddy: Ah been there

~

Jason and Michael: *Watching Dr Loomis give psychology advice*

Jason and Michael: *Slowly tilting their heads sceptically, in unison*

Michael: *Holds up board for Jason to read:* ... I don't think that man has ever been to medical school.

~

Jason: *Trying to get Michael to help him. Writes passive aggressively on board and shoves the thing in Michael's view:* Would you give me a hand!???

Michael: *Fucking slices his own arm off and chucks it at Jason*

Look, he's having a bad day...

~

Freddy: *Sneaks up on Jason and digs his fingers into the giants sides*

Jason: *Whips around and cracks Freddy in the face from shock*

Jason: *Realises its just Freddy as the other groans and holds his nose, and looks a little guilty. Oh, Freddy. Writes on board and shows him:* There's gotta be a less painful way to get my attention.

Freddy: Agh- Fucking- Merry Christmas, hockey puck!

Jason: *Catches sight of something above them, tilts his head. Writes and shows board:* Isn't that mistletoe?

Freddy: *A slow, creepy grin rips across his face* Yep.

~ Toy Stoy 2~

Jason: *Frantically holding up a board:* Michael! I was a yo-yo!

Freddy and Chucky: *Look at each other*

Chucky: 'Was'?

~

*Michael and the others watching a dude try to buy Jason and failing.*

Michael: *Thinking: Mm, now just walk away.*

Man: *Follows after where Jason went.*

Michael: *Thinking: ... the other way.*

~

*After Jason has been stolen- everyone is panicking*

Michael: *Stomping his foot, trying to gather these psychopaths' attentions. Wait a minute! Wait, hold on! When he semi has their attention, he shows a piece of paper with writing on it:* This is not time to be hysterical.

Freddy: Its the perfect time to be hysterical.

Bubba: *Gasp. Should we be hysterical!?*

Carrie: *Tries to calm Bubba down, a hand on his arm and voice gentle* No-

Chucky: Yes.

Michael: *Thinking: ... well, maybe*

~

Freddy: Give this to Jason when you find him

Freddy: *SMACKS MICHAEL UPSIDE THE HEAD*

Michael: ... *Holds up board* Alright. But I don't think it'll mean the same thing coming from me.

~

Freddy: *Up ahead* Hey guys! Why did the toys cross the road!?

Michael: *But rolls his eyes. Not now bacon bits.*

Bubba: *Perks up and waives. Oh! He loves riddles. Why?*

Freddy: To get to the chicken... on the other side!

*They all look out and celebrate, seeing where Jason was being kept hostage... but then realise how dangerous getting across will be as a giant fricken truck careens by and crushes a can the same size as them*

Bubba: ... *Promptly turns around and starts walking back the way they came. Oh well. We tried-*

Michael: *Grabs Bubba back*

~

Jennifer: I can help! I'm Tour Guide Jen!

Jennifer: Please keep your hands, arms and accessories inside the car, and no flash photography! Thanks.

Chucky: -I'm a married man, I'm married man, I'm married man-

Freddy: *Shoves Chucky out of the way* Then make room for the single fellas.

~

Michael: *Ugh. Writes on board:* They're on level 23.

Carrie: How are we gonna get up there?

Bubba: *Gestures to balloons, then up to the sky. Meaning: Maybe if we find some balloons, we could float to the top!*

Chucky: Are you kidding? I say we stack ourselves up, push the intercom, and pretend we're delivering a pizza.

Freddy: How bout a roast? *Grins*

Freddy: *Assesses Chucky and Carrie in turn* With tenderised pig and a slaughtered lamb as sides.

Chucky: Hold the fuck up did you just call me a pig- and a side-

Carrie: What?

Bubba: Oh! Oh! *Pats his chest excitedly. Do him! What about me??*

Freddy: ... Eh, you can be the toy that comes with the meal.

~

*Michael does something to get them all hurt and doesn't to care at all, of course. Just moves on.*

Chucky: Remind me to glue his mask on his head when we get back.

Freddy: *Nods, yep*

~

Chucky:*Embracing Tiffany after having been away saving Jason*

Glen and Glenda: You saved our lives! We're eternally grateful!

Chucky: Oh, fuck...

Tiffany: You saved their lives, Chucky?? Oh, my hero.

Tiffany: *Immediately drops Chucky in favour of picking up the babies* And they're adorable! Lets adopt them!

Chucky: *Thinking: What? No- Absolutely not- Don't say tha-*

Glen and Glenda: Daaaaddy!

Chucky: Fuck.

~Toy Story 3~

Jason: *Holds up a sign as he stands there menacingly with his machete:* You got a date with justice, Charles.

Chucky: Heh, too bad, 'sheriff'. I'm a married man.

Tiffany: *Comes out screaming, wielding goddamn nun chucks*

~

Michael: *Eyes narrow behind mask, slowly holds up sign he prepared earlier:* Bastard son of a hundred maniacs.

Freddy: Hah. That's Mr Bastard son of a hundred maniacs, to you!

~

*The toys/Slashers watch some toys, including Jennifer and her car get thrown in the donation bin*

Ghostface: Oh, man, poor Jen.

Freddy: ... I get the corvette.

~

Tiffany: Its alright, Jen, it'll be okay.

Jennifer: Well... Needy and I have been growing apart for a while...

Jennifer: Its just... I cant believe she would kill me!

Chucky: *Who's 'best friend till the end'/victim also killed him* Yeah. Welcome to the club, toots.

~

Hoyt: They just love new toys, don't they?

Chucky: Love!? We've been chewed, kicked, drooled on-

Tiffany: Just look at my nails!

Hoyt: ... Hm. Well, here's the thing, sweetheart. You aint leavin' Ambrose.

Tiffany: *Thinking: Oh fuck no he did not just- * Sweetheart!? Who do you think you're talking to!? I have over 10 kills, and I deserve more respec-

Hoyt: *Covers Tiffany's mouth with his hand* Ah, that's better.

Chucky: *Thinking: I'm going to fuck this douche up- * Hey, no one takes my wife's mouth. *Shoves Hoyt back off her by the chest* 'Cept me.

~

*Hoyt and Thomas bring Chucky back from 'The Box'. He's more fucked up looking then usual, sand all through his hair and stuck to his plastic features. He shakes it out of his pockets.*

Tiffany: *Gasp* Sweetheart!

Chucky: Eugh... it was cold. And dark. Nothin' but sand and a couple of Lincoln logs.

Freddy: Ehhh... I don't think those were Lincoln logs.

~

Ghostface: I was wrong...

Chucky:

Chucky: Ghostface is right. He was wrong.

~

Jennifer: *Fake cries*

~

Chucky: *Slaps a Pidgeon*

~

*Trying to reset Michael back to his former settings/self (The one that knows them and therefore will maybe-perhaps-possibly not kill them*

Freddy: Oh- oh- oh, here we go. there should be a little hole under the switch.

Jason: *Little hole little hold little hole- Nods. Got it!*

Freddy: To reset your Michael Myers action figure, insert paper clip-

Jason: *Sharply turns to Bubba, urging him to put his finger in the hole quickly*

Freddy: Caution; Do not hold button for more then five seconds...

Michael: *Suddenly stops thrashing and goes slack*

Everyone: ...

Bubba: *Jumps off him, holding up his hands. Its not my fault!!*

~

Michael, on Spanish Mode: *Gives Jason two sweet kisses on either cheek*

Jason: *Awkwardly, slowly holds up sign:* We gotta switch him back.

~

Ghostface: Oh! Mikey!!

Michael, still on Spanish Mode: *Sees Ghostface*

Michael: *Drops to his knees, gathers up Ghostface's hand*

Michael: *Looks up at Ghostface in utter awe and admiration*

Ghostface: *Freaken freaked out. Shouldn't he be the creepy one in this outfit? Leans away* Uhh... did you fix Michael?

Freddy: Uh, sorta. I mean I for one think this is a huge improvement.

~

Michael, STILL on Spanish Mode: *Does a dance of feelings around Ghostface, wanting to express himself*

Ghostface: What- why- please stop I'm gonna pee myself- Of laughter or fear I have no idea but I WILL PEE

Michael: *Grabs and dips Ghostface, and holds up a sign* We will be the most famous killers in history, together.

Ghostface: *Thinking: Oh I can get behind that, hell yeah- *

Jason: *Arrives*

Ghostface: Oh- *Scrambles out of Michaels hold* JASE!

Michael: *Watches them move on together* *Throws down the sign*

Freddy: I suddenly feel disgusting, like... I somehow ended up in some kinda... love-square, of some kind...

~

Jason: *Nicely gestures for Michael to give him some help*

Michael, stillllllll on Spanish mode: *Sniffs his nose at Jason's hand, shoving him out of the way with one arm like no thank you.*

~

Jennifer: Authority should derive from the consent of the governed. Not from the threat of force! // Or, alternatively which I think fits a whole lot better- // I am not going to stand back here and let another fucking old white guy tell me what the fuck to do!

Chucky and Freddy, two old white guys: *Look at each other*

Chucky:

Freddy:

Chucky and Freddy: *Shrug*

And that's it seeing as I don't really wanna see Toy Story 4. I hope you enjoyed this silly thing with me at least a little XD

Okay so I got a little attached in the end.

[everything-person]

Then Came You

A/N: This is my contribution to @cshistfic Historical Fic Event. This is my first time diving deep, just submerging myself into research to make sure I got my time period correct and I had a blast. Sometime I had too much fun and thankfully I had @spartanguard to push me off my high horse. Thank you @shireness-says for making this event and running it. Hopefully my entree is worthy enough. This fic is based in the 70’s and is inspired by Disney Pixar’s Cars. This may have up to 3 parts.

Summary: Rookie of the Year race car driver Killian Jones finds himself lost in a forgotten Storybrooke on his way to the finale race of the season. His world and perspective on what he wants gets turned upside down in the small town.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Where the fuck am I?

was Killian Jones, famous race car driver, first thought as he woke up. Well, first thought after he got over the throbbing pain in his skull. He sat up to see he was laying in a cot. Taking in his immediate surroundings, he realized he was behind bars. His head fell into his hands.

How did I get here?

He recalled being at Pocono in the Piston Cup series finale. He was named Rookie of the Year and was set up to be the first one to win. His only real competition was Ernest “the King'' Triton, Atlantica’s golden boy, who was planning on this being his last season, and Edward Teach, the King's tail biter. They weren’t expecting Killian to come out of nowhere and take the season by storm.

He was set to win it all, ahead by half a lap, checkered flag insight when a tire blew. He struggled but was able to keep control of his car. He could feel his competitors gaining on him as he lost speed. Such events caused a three-way tie, set to be settled in a week in Daytona.

He remembered the interviews asking about him driving without a crew chief; he always had an issue taking orders. The King came walking up to him.

“My man, you are one bad racer. You got more talent in that famous smile of yours than half these dudes got in their whole body but you’re stupid. Let me give you the lowdown: this ain’t a one-man show, young blood. You need to wise up, get yourself a good crew chief and a good team. You ain’t gonna win unless you got stellar people behind you doing their jobs so you can keep being the slammin’ driver you are.”

He thanked him for the advice before they were made to get on stage for the press. That's when Edward Teach decided to try to psyche him out.

“Listen space cadet, that was some fab drifting today. By me. He he he. First one at Daytona gets Atlantica all to themselves. Catch my drift?”

Then he went looking for his team, only to find out from Smee, his truck driver, that he had to make a personal appearance over at his sponsor's tent—Arendelle Chocolates, run by sisters Elsa and Anna Arendelle, most famous for the Apollo Bar.

“A taste that’s out of this world!”

He desperately wanted to get away from his sponsor. He didn’t care for sweets and frankly found most disgusting. He entered the tent to find the other reason he didn’t care for his current sponsor: children all running around with their grubby hands. The sight made him squirm, but Smee reminded him they gave him his big break and it was in his contract. With those inspiring words, he put on a smile, made his way to his sponsor sisters, said a few words that had the tent roaring in cheers before he said goodbye.

“Killian, that was stellar! We are so proud to call you our driver!”

“And we are looking forward to another fab year!”

“Don’t drive like my sister!”

“Yeah, don't drive like my sister!”

He and his crew got on the road not long after that. His crew were in the truck along with his car while he drove just behind them. While his crew pulled off to get some rest, he kept going to be the first at Daytona. But he kept nodding off and got lost.

He remembered pulling out his map to try and find out where he was. He tried to keep his car steady while trying to make out what his map said by moonlight, when he heard sirens. Looking up, he saw the lights of a town. Before he could think about pulling over the sirens were accompanied with sounds of loud popping. He assumed it was the officer firing at him. He tried to dodge the bullets but soon lost control of his car. He ran into quite a few things before gaining control again, only to get caught on something. He gunned it to get free, only to have his car spin out once he was. The last thing he remembered was something crashing into his driver side door effectively stopping his spin out and causing his head to slam into his window; then everything went black.

Groaning, he picked up his head taking another look around. He was on a cot, in a holding cell, in a dusty office. He was taking in the desks and filing cabinets, looking for signs of life, when he heard a voice.

“Well hi,” came an excited, high-pitched voice.

His head snapped back to one of the desks to see a boy he missed sitting just behind it.

“I was wondering when you were gonna wake up.”

Killians faced scrunched up, “What's going on? Why am I here?”

The boy laughed, “Like you don’t know. For being a spaz last night.”

“What's your name, lad?”

“Henry. What's your name?”

“You don’t know my name?” Killian asked, taken aback by the question.

“No; why should I know your name?”

“I’m Killian Jones.” He waited for the moptop boy to put the pieces together

“Killian Jones!” Henry shot up out of his seat as he exclaimed the name before falling back down. “Yeah, not ringing a bell.”

Killian furrowed his eyebrows, “Where am I?”

“Where are you? You’re in Storybrooke, the most rockin’ town on the Potomac River.”

Killian sighed, dropping his head, bringing his hand up rubbing at his forehead. “Great. Just great.”

“Well if you like this place, you should see the rest of the town.”

Killian picked up his head, looking at the brown-eyed boy and spied just behind him the keys to his cage. Focusing back on the boy, he smiled and stood up from his spot on the cot.

“You know, that's a brilliant idea. I’d love to see the rest of your town. If you just let me out of here, we could go cruisin’ the town.” Killian finished his thought as he came leaning against the bars.

“Golly! Really?” Henry sat up straighter with a bright smile that slowly turned into a smirk, “You think you can psyche me out. I’m ten, not stupid.”

“Henry!” a new voice shouted out.

In walked a man sporting a perm and mustache wearing a star at his hip.

“What have you been told about being in here with criminals?”

Henry sighed, “Not without supervision. But he was sleeping.”

The man crossed his arms, letting out a huff, “Well now he’s awake. Want to help me escort him to court?”

The next thing Killian knew, he was in chains and being placed in the back of a cop car. After a short ride, he was hauled out and guided into Town Hall where he was met with shouting and very angry townspeople. He was placed in a chair.

“Oi mate,” Killian looked up at the sheriff, “I gotta skitty. How long is this gonna take?”

The sheriff, Robin read his name tag, crossed his arms, “Do you have a lawyer?”

Killian scoffed, “Aye, but he's probably in Hawaii right now.”

“If the defendant doesn’t have representation, the court will assign one to him.” Robin turned to the crowd behind him bringing his fingers to his lips, letting out a shrieking whistle. “Anyone want to be his lawyer?”

The room went silent.

“I’ll do it,” a familiar voice broke the silence.

Killian turned to see the boy from before trotting up to the gate. Robin quirked an eyebrow at him.

“What? It's not hard.”

“Hmm, alright,” Robin agreed, letting the boy take the seat next to Killian.

Killian looked between the two before landing his gaze on the sheriff.

“Are you serious?”

“Well, our normal defense is at the vet after you clipped his dog last night,” Robin informed him before speaking to the room, “All rise! Honorable Judge Nolan presiding.”

Everyone stood as the sound of a door opening and closing was heard. Heavy footsteps rang out in the silence.

“I want to know who is responsible for wrecking my town. I want his ass on a silver platter. I’m gonna put him in jail until he rots. No, until the jail rots on top of him then I’ll put him in another jail and wait until that one rots. I—”

The man's rants came to a halt as he laid his eyes on the accused. “Get him out of here, sheriff. I want him out of my courtroom and out of my town. Case dismissed; charges dropped.”

Killian let out a breathy laugh, “Woah. You were a better lawyer than I thought, youngblood.”

“Sorry I’m late, Your Honor.”

Killian turned to see a stunning blonde woman come strutting in.

“Bloody hell,” Killian whispered under his breath. He thought the sheriff must’ve found his agent's number and gave him a call. This must be who they sent from his attorney’s office.

As she was walking by, Killian spoke up, “Hello, love. Thank you for coming but we are all set. He’s dropped the charges.”

She stopped and turned to him, her eyes darting to the boy next to him. “What?”

“Aye, we got off lucky. Now all we have to do is speed on down to Florida.”

“Please.”

“I get that a lot. I create feelings in people they themselves don't understand.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Right. Well I’m gonna go talk to the judge.”

“Whatever you gotta do, love. Do be careful though. These cats are a bit feral.”

She pursed her lips, nodding before turning her attention to the smiling child next to him, “Hi, Henry.”

“Hello.”

Killian looked at the boy before looking back at the blonde, who had turned to the crowd behind him.

“Morning everyone,” she called out, receiving greetings in response. She turned, eyeing Killian as she did, before she walked up to the judges stand who was intensely looking at his papers.

“David, you're looking well. Your sideburns are—”

“Forget it, Emma. I already dismissed the case,” he said, not looking up at her.

“He endangered most of the town and destroyed half of it. You can’t just let him go.”

“We are better off with him gone.”

Emma huffed, “Alright; you asked for it.”

Emma turned and addressed the room, “I move for an appeal. Robin, if you will help me escort the accused to the Mayor.”

Robin assisted Killian out of the chair. They followed the woman down the hall and up the stairs. Killian would protest but the walk was giving him a great view of the blonde’s ass.

As they came to a door labeled Mayor, Robin leaned over and whispered to Killian, “May the mayor have mercy on your soul.”

Before Killian could question or even look at the man he was being ushered into a black and white room.

“Ms. Swan, why are you barging into my office?” A woman sitting behind the desk in the middle of the office asked, not bothering to look up at the intruders.

“Judge Nolan ruled to dismiss the charges against our drunk driver—”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Killian interrupted.

“And I moved for an appeal. I thought the sooner the better,” Emma continued.

The woman finally looked up to see Emma standing in front of her desk before her eyes darted to Sheriff Robin, and Judge Nolan standing just behind her with Killian standing in between them.

“What are the charges?”

“Reckless driving, reckless endangerment, trespassing, vandalism, and destruction of property.”

“Why did you dismiss the case?” The woman directed the question to Judge Nolan.

He stepped forward standing next to Emma. “Madame Mayor, what happened last night was a terrible occurrence but I believe the longer this man stays, the more trouble will come.”

“Based on what?”

“I know the kind of man he is. I can see it in his eyes. He’s the last thing this town needs.”

“We let this guy walk, it sends a message to every delinquent in town that you can do whatever you want. The town needs to be fixed—they need this,” Emma stated.

“I think the sheriff's station’s reputation will precede this incident. We are fine without him,” Judge Nolan responds.

The mayor turned to Emma. “What do you suggest the sentence should be if I agree to your appeal?”

“Make an example of him. Give him community service, make him fix everything he can that he broke. Whatever he can’t, fine him for; by the looks of his clothes, he can afford it.”

The mayor sat back looking between the man and woman in front of her.

“Sheriff,” she called, “What say you? Should I let this man go to avoid further disturbance, or have him fix the town?”

“Well, I think the town needs renovation more than it needs to avoid trouble. In fact, I think we could benefit from some,” Robin eloquently answered.

The mayor nodded, standing from her seat, “I’m inclined to agree. The accused is sentenced to community service until everything that was damaged from last night's events is fixed and a fine of six hundred dollars for reckless driving and endangerment.”

Killian’s eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead. He went from walking away scot-free to becoming this town’s new handyman along with being fined six hundred dollars.

The mayor took her seat once again stating, “You are all dismissed.”

Emma turned around with a satisfied smile plastered on her face. “Looks like Florida is gonna have to wait.”

[huihuiheart]

Kinktober D9: Listen Closely - Felix

Pairing: Felix x f!Reader

Warnings: Sensory play/deprivation, dom! Felix, like I’d say he gets a bit feral in this....., overstimulation, brat taming, bondage, Felix is just straight up a little shit in this, teasing, sex toys, sir kink (just to mix things up), angry sex? (kinda he’s a little pissed at the brattiness, but he also loves it so...take that however you want), Felix calls the reader kitten, dirty talk, light degradation, masturbation, spanking,mentions of squirting, implied sex (once again I gotta be a little shit and stop before we get to the good part, I’m just in a mood rn I guess).

Word Count:2,042

Tag List: @hyunsungcore​ 

You’d been caught red handed too many times at this point and you knew there would be consequences for it. If Felix wasn’t intending to intervene yet though, then it didn’t really matter to you. You planned on wholly misbehaving until Felix actually took action. Though there was an eerie amount of patience being displayed by Felix, not usually one to show restraint for so long, especially when you were misbehaving. Yet after two weeks of finding you touching yourself while listening to his voice through your phone, he hadn’t touched you at all. At least not other than chase kisses and some cuddling, and you’d fucking had it. You were ready to resort to begging if necessary, prepared for any punishment of his. You just couldn’t do without him any longer. Which is how you ended up in this position, with a vibrator between your legs and a playlist you made of Felix’s deep voice filling the room....again, just like every night this week. When you finally tore your eyes open again they met Felix’s figure leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed with a smirk.

“How did I guess that this would be what I found when I came home?” Felix’s tone is teasing as he moves to walk over to the foot of the bed for a closer look now that he knows you caught him staring.

“Hm...I have no idea.” You retort coyly before getting your own smirk as you decide to taunt back, “I’m gonna guess that you’re going to run off to the studio for some made up work now though, just like you did every other night. Let me guess...you’re afraid you can’t satisfy me as well as some little toy can sir?”

The way Felix’s face scrunched and eyes closed as he tried to control himself brought you more satisfaction than you expected. It was good to know the amount of control you still had over him though, especially when you decided to push his limits by condescendingly using the honorific he liked so much. When Felix finally meets your gaze again his eyes have darkened with lust and just enough anger that you knew there was no way he was going to leave you to get away with that tonight, which was exactly what you were hoping for.

Felix chuckles, “You know I’ve noticed how you seem to love getting off to my voice kitten. So every time that I left for the studio because of your little stunts it was to work on a special part of your punishment. Lucky for you I just finished it and brought it home though.”

You brows furrowed in confusion as you looked at him, “You worked on something there alone?” 

Felix nods with another deep laugh, “I did, didn’t think you’d want other people hearing what I made just for you.....told the guys I wanted to play around with some things for experience.” 

“Think they bought it?” You raise a brow knowing how hard it was to get away with stuff around the guys.

“For the most part, there was a little slip and someone may have found one of the clips I recorded..” Felix admits with a soft shrug, not too bothered by it.

“Let me guess....Chris?” You laughs a little as he nods in answer, “Well show me what you did then.”

Felix licks his lips, “Oh I intend to kitten, but first...what was that you said about me thinking I couldn’t satisfy you as good as some toy?...Maybe we should put that to the test tonight too? Only I’m in control now.” 

Felix snatches the vibrator out of your hands before you can argue and turns it off laying it aside, before going to the bedside table to get out some black ties. Your hands tied to the bed above your head first before moving down to your feet and tapping your ankles, urging you to spread your legs for him next. Tying each to one side of the bed, keeping you spread open for him. You can only watch as he settles the vibrator between your legs again, someplace he knows it will sit no matter what, before he’s pulling out headphones to place near the one remaining tie. 

“I think we should give the vibrator the best chance possible, don’t you?” Felix mocks slightly, “Make it so you imagine it’s me making you feel that good. Wouldn’t that be nice?” 

“Sir, I just want you.” You counter whimpering softly only for Felix to tsk you softly.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have misbehaved so much kitten, you wanna be a little brat? Then I’ll treat you like a little fucking brat.” Felix growls out at you before he’s tying the remaining fabric around your eyes, the headphones next. Felix pressing play the same time he click the vibrator on low. 

“My little kitten thinks she’s so smart huh? Touching herself to the sound of my voice like it’s gonna get you something, well every time I find you like that this is what you’re gonna get kitten....you get to hear me touching myself to the thought of you instead of getting what you actually want.” 

Felix’s deep voice was already fucking with you through the speakers and then he had to go and add this to it. His deep moans and the way he’d grunt out little desires that filled his head as he got himself off through the headphones, about how sore he’d be sure to make your ass, how he’d manhandle you so easily due to how desperate you’d be just to cum around his cock, the way he’d feel stretching you out again. All of it almost unbearable at this point, having your vision cut off and the audio he recorded playing for you letting your mind run wild. Imagining him recording it while touching himself, then thinking about each of the things his smoky voice reminded you of or gave you thoughts about suddenly, until you had a small realization. You’d never seen Felix leave you like this....and you knew it he was at least within earshot in case a safe word was used. He heard each sound that left your mouth, even if you barely could in your current state and more likely than not he was watching and getting off to you right now too. You came once to the sound of him cumming, a low growly moan filling your senses. You weren’t done yet though as Felix moves to turn the vibrator up to the next level, as the audio kept going.

“Really kitten? Two days in a row? You’re gonna be that much of a little brat? And here I thought I’d trained you better than that. Oh well....I guess I’ll just be cumming in my hand instead of your tight little cunt again, and you won’t even be able to have a taste.”

Felix drank in your whines, not caring if it was from his taunting in the audio or from the overstimulation that the vibrator was putting you through. You’d challenged him and now you’d have to pay the price for it. You barely made it through the second recording, not without cumming twice more though. Felix turning the toy down again and gently rubbing over your quaking thighs, showing a small bit of mercy knowing you still had three more recordings to get through.

“Well day three hmm? Maybe I should have stuck around longer, could have counted up all your pretty little moans. Given you a spanking for each one. I’m sure you find this a lot more fun though, don’t you kitten? Unless....you’re ready to admit how much you love when I spank your pretty ass?” 

You feel the way your slick spreads making even more of a mess out of you and the sheets, knowing Felix knew just how much you loved spankings even if you wouldn’t fess up to that. That’s also how you recognized the fact that he mentioned the spankings on purpose. If he wanted to play though, you’d play.

“Are you counting my moans now sir? Is it gonna earn my a good spanking?” You mock, earning you a swift slap to your thigh in warning. Nothing too painful, just a little tingling sting to remind you who was in control right now. Felix rewarding the moan you make in reaction to it by turning the vibrator up a few settings. The toy drawing two more orgasms from you before the third day was done, there were two days left before you’d actually get what you wanted all week and yet Felix had already brought you to your climax five times, making you more and more sensitive. 

“Have you really not caught on to the fact that I have something big planned or are you just trying to rile me up more and more kitten?....you’ll learn after this experience pretty kitty, you’ll come crawling to me every time that desperate little pussy gets wet. At the very least you’ll know not to break this rule again....unless you want me to break you kitten.”

The growl building in Felix’s raspy voice only grows with each recording as he get more and more pissed off by your bratty disobedience and refusal to ask for what you want. Well that coupled with the fact that each day his hand was less and less satisfying compared to what he knew he’s left back at home. Your soaked cunt and bratty attitude, the one that makes him want to fuck you through the mattress every time it decides to make an appearance. Felix’s patience only winning out due to the fact that he knew how rewarding it would be punish you like he was right now. A perfect build up to what both of you had been anticipating all week long, coming down from your sixth high as the fifth recording finally begins.

“You’re about to be a very lucky kitty. I have a feeling I get the same welcome home tomorrow as I got all week, but I’m still going to give you what you want kitten. Only if you take you punishment like a good girl though, if not....well than maybe we’ll have to play this game a little longer....when you finally decide to behave for me though. Remember to thank sir for everything he so generously gave you kitten.”

Your relieve at finally being onto the final day is short lived though as Felix turns the vibrator all the way up now, wanting to push you over the edge as many times as he could before that final recording was over. Achieving three, before the day was over and he’s turning the vibrator off. Easing you back to reality one thing at a time; the vibrator first, then removing the headphones to whisper a few soft praises to you as he unties the blindfold. Next comes the blindfold, followed by him carefully untying you from the bed. His hands gently soothing over your form.

“You did so well kitten, made such a pretty little mess of yourself all for me.” Felix’s voice is still deep with lust, but its a little softer for the moment, “Still want the reward I promised you kitten?” 

“Don’t tell me you actually think I’m going to call it a night before we even get started.” You lick your lips smirking softly as your eyes rake over his form. While watching you he’d stripped to stroke himself, the tip of his cock an angry red and leaking precum, the rest slicked with a mix of his arousal and spit.

“I see there’s still some of that bratty mouth left kitten.” Felix chuckles eyes darkening again as his hands grips your hips.

“There certainly is sir. Why don’t you show my what you’re gonna do about it.” You taunt only for him to flip you over onto your hands and knees before you realize what’s even happening. Felix leaning forward, lips brushing your ear and cock flush against your ass, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“I guess it’s a good thing that I really did count all your moans tonight kitten, your ass will have a lot to be grateful for and besides that....I wanna see you squirt before I'm through with you.”

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Ten | Dating Fight! (Part 1 of 2)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

(Obligatory) Alternate Title: "Ya like jazz?"

• • •

If you told your past self you would be in the monsters' home at midnight, wearing borrowed pajamas and staying the night on their couch, you would've most likely been asked over what the hell you were smoking. 

It's what you assume will be a sleepless night, giving you time to reflect on what's happened so far and what opportunities you'd lost with the blackout. Not only had it interrupted your time with Toriel, but it had brought upon a new piece of information you weren't quite sure what to do with, and that was Sans and him being afraid of thunder. While one side of you wanted to tease him over it, the other -- based on how raw his fear was and how much he seemed to have entrusted his safety on you -- wanted nothing but to try to comfort the monster over the situation. In short, sympathy towards him sounded hard to do without him taking it as the results of his flirting, yet making fun of him made you feel like a jerk.

"Can we talk?"

You look to the voice to see Sans standing by the television, a hand gripping its top for stability. His body language shows exhaustion and nothing more, though you don't let your guard down yet, still wary over any possible flirting attempts. "About the blackout thing, I mean."

The circles under his eye sockets are darker than before, a bit of a strange observation to take in, considering how much he's slept already. If this is what he meant about how he needed Karma for his magic, it made way more sense now. A half-hour trip to Toriel's with him casting a see-through veil over the windshield and another one for him to pick up Papyrus had proven more than enough to drain his magic and all the energy left in him. 

But if that was the case, why did he accept his job as a sentry, if his task was to kill any human who crossed him -- right from the start?

Was he willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of obtaining that soul, and simultaneously, his kinds' freedom?

"Sit with me," you offer, caught in the spur of the moment. "You already sat on my lap, didn't you? Why try to be modest now? I wouldn't have minded that much, if you'd at least taken me to dinner first."

You hear him snort at that, though a hand covers up the noise when he catches just how quiet everything is. "Sorry, (Y/N). I may like flirtin' with you, but physical contact's where I cross the line. And unless you're also comfortable with it, I'm not gonna try anythin' like that." He rubs the back of his skull, looking guilty. "So with that being said, sorry for all that. For, uh, slammin' right into you, huggin' you, and then, well... lettin' me sit on your lap without asking. I wasn't myself back there."

His expression's not far from that of a wounded puppy, and it's only when you pat down at the space left next to you that he reacts, sitting down and facing your gaze. "Did something happen in the past? Were you… in a war or something like that?" PTSD's the first thing to come up into your thoughts, though you're not exactly sure how to approach the topic with him. "You don't have to answer me, if you don't want to."

"Thanks," he says, shoulders kept high as he huffs and faces his lap. "It's... somethin' like that. But like you said, I don't really know how to talk about it yet." He lets out a noise between a chuckle and a nose flare, meeting your gaze again afterwards. "I didn't know just how… how loud thunder was here at the Surface, so when it first happened, I was even more caught off guard by it. Today wasn't that bad, and I already knew what was comin', but I still acted that way."

"Do… Do other people know about this?"

"Only Tori and my bro. They were the ones who saw me in that state the first time."

You bite your lip and let out a sympathetic hiss in response to that, remembering just who'd caught him and you in that position. If Alphys and Undyne really didn't know anything about his fear, then judging by the wide stares they were giving you while the skeleton sat on your lap, their point of view was clearly far different from yours. 

"What's wrong?" he asks, mirth returning to his voice.

"Remember when you sat on my lap?"

His face falls, tone straining with it, "Is remindin' me a way of you gettin' back at me for what I've done?"

You huff and swat his shoulder in a harmless, playful manner despite your narrowed gaze. "I'm being serious here, Sans!" you exclaim, frowning. "Alphys and Undyne... They- They saw us like that, so I was wondering if you knew about it, too."

"What?" he asks, a subtle furrow showing on his skull. "Did they really see us?"

"Yes!" Your response is muffled by you covering your face in shame, face burning at the thought. "If they really don't know about your condition, then they… They probably thought we were hitting it off on the couch!" With how hot your face feels, you're forced to let it go and direct a pointed gaze at Sans, who tries to ease you out with the gesture of his hands and a hush, reminding you to keep your voice low. "They probably think we're dating now!"

"And what's so bad about that?"

"Everything!"

Frustrated by his easygoing self, it takes a minute for you to find some calm, regaining it when you remind yourself over what's more important right now. 

"I don't want either of us to get carried away with that, so I'll just tell you this," you speak up, maintaining a calmer tone and looking at the skeleton right in his irises. You focus your eyes on him, wanting the gravity of the situation to be known. "I… I used to be married, and I waited two whole years of dating just to, well… achieve that dream, only to then have Jerry ditch me the second he couldn't keep up with the responsibility of living and raising a child together." You pause in your words, feeling a few tears form in your eyes, embarrassment and sorrow both weighing the same. "If there's anything I need less of, it's romantic drama! I don't mind you flirting with me, but if any false rumour gets out about us, then I... I simply won't allow this to happen anymore."

You back off and lower your intensity. 

The more you talk, the more you realize this has nothing to do with the skeleton, aside from what transpired with the blackout. 

"What happened earlier was accidental, and I firmly acknowledge that. But if you're going to keep up this flirting charade with me, I'm gonna need to ask for one thing: don't spread false rumours about us." You wipe a tear off your face, looking away when you feel his gaze on your body, burning you. "I… I want to be a good parental figure for Frisk, so if I want that, I really can't be depicted as an easy, airheaded person." You stop and let out a breath, almost shuddering in the process. "I allowed myself to be stupid once, so I can't let it happen again."

You know you're about to confess something really, if not extremely personal, yet you can't prevent yourself from keeping your mouth shut, something about the monster and the quiet of the living room pushing you to be heartfelt with him.

"It was bad enough when he told his friends about how quickly I fell for him -- how it seemed I loved him more than he did with me. And it took me too long to understand what he meant by that when… when his first solution to us not working out the first time was doing a one-hundred and eighty on our relationship without any explanation whatsoever. I was naive and stupid as hell for getting back with him twice after that first fallout, and then deciding to marry him later on, so to this day, I… I still take responsibility for what became of us and our family after that. And that's why I really can't allow myself to… to fall into another relationship just like that. I need to fix this and myself first."

You finish venting with a huff. Then, you form a smile and offer a hand out to the skeleton when you're done. "Think we could both put this day behind us? I won't push further over what happened to you, but I… I expect the same kind of respect and treatment from you."

Sans takes your hand, completing the shake. "Ya really gotta ask, pal?" he says, winking. "Respect's somethin' that should be given right from the start, so long as the other person's showed it, too." He pulls his hand back, meeting with your eyes afterwards. "I may like teasin' and flirtin' around with you, but I still hold respect for who you are as a person, just as I hold respect for how mad attractive you look in your work uniform."

Truthfully, his last sentence catches you off guard with how nonchalant he is, and you almost pass off his words as nothing. But when you do catch onto the comment he made over that particular aspect of you, you stand up, towering over him with your hands on your hips and a scowl. "Good-night," you bark, teeth gritted.

"Wait."

Just as you turn to leave, he tugs at the end of your pajamas' sleeve and grabs your attention with the call of your name. A muffled, jazzy tune followed by yelling and fighting can be heard from the television, now on. "Watch somethin' with me," Sans says, serious. "I know ya ain't sleepy yet, and that you chose to sleep on the couch, so don't leave."

You don't budge; rather, you sigh and keep your back turned to him. "Unnecessary comment leads to a necessary need to retreat."

"C'mon," he pleads, letting go of your sleeve. "I won't make any more of those 'til the sun rises."

"...Promise?"

"Promise."

You finally face him again, though all while keeping a neutral look as you sit down next to him. The television displays a black-and-white film, action present in every second of it. When the monster asks over what you'd like to watch, you don't give him a concrete answer, letting him choose instead. He passes by a few channels, sound clips amalgamating with each other as he switches back and forth, only stopping when a DreamJobs movie shows up, a bee pun quickly making its way to your ears.

"Wanna watch this?" Sans asks, waiting.

"Whatever you want, honey," you reply, arms crossed as you look him in the eye, attempting to one-up his past flirting attempts. "I bee-lieve I told you to choose, didn't I?" You wink, soul leaving your body when you see he grins at your actions. 

He returns these by hooking an arm right behind the couch, leaning in just a bit closer to your side and staying true to his word by not once touching you. "Flirtin' back now, huh? Surprised you didn't just tell me to buzz off."

You stare at him for a good while, stricken by his line of defense. When you're capable of moving again, you stand up and make way to the kitchen, only stopping after reminding yourself over how helpful Sans had been these past few weeks, and how little you'd shown your gratitude over it. "I'm gonna go get some water. Do you need anything, Serif?"

"You're all I need right now, pal."

"I'm serious."

He chuckles, slumps on a corner of the couch, and rests an arm behind his skull. A subtle grin returns to his face, sly and dangerous. "I'm good," he says. "Though it wouldn't be bad if you could take some monster meds outta the bottom pantry."

You frown at that, reminded over his physical state. "Are you still tired?"

"Nah. Just got a lil' headache, is all."

Though unconvinced, you enter the kitchen and follow his instructions as to where the medicine is. You take the one marked with 'acetaminophen for monsters' and bring two cups of water along with you -- tap for you, and from-the-fridge for him. Taking a cup of water from Toriel's home made you feel bad, even if it was lukewarm and from the tap.

When you return, you sit next to the skeleton and offer him the medicine first. Then, you offer him a glass, though he takes the warm one. "Think I didn't see what ya did there?" he comments, winking. "You ain't gotta restrict yourself so much, pal. You're as much of a family as Frisk is."

You grab the remaining glass and hold back your emotions, how hard they hit making you drink the water to avoid them. "...Thank you, but I'm not." You drink the rest of the water, not wanting to let your voice waver. "Frisk may be like your family, but I certainly am not."

The movie distracts you when Sans decides to look at you; the mood of the film's far more whimsical and upbeat for your current state of mind. "Like I've said before, please don't waste your time on me, 'cause it's not gonna work." 

Silence stays as you both watch the movie, yet it's promptly broken when he finishes his drink. "'Fraid that's not gonna work with us, (Y/N)." His voice is serious again, a rarity for who he is; or at least, who you envisioned him to be. "Just as we're insistent on Frisk being a part of our lives, we're insistent that you can be a part of that, too. It might take time, but it'll happen with effort, integrity, and mutual understanding."

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• • •

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[ootori-sibs]

The Ootori princess

Chapter 8: Sister knows best

Tw: discussions of trauma, implied abuse, implied transphobia

Yuuichi was incredibly pleased with how the day had gone, especially with how Kyoya had gotten to spent time with the hosts. The meeting he had that day wasn't nearly as enjoyable, father had been there, and although the meeting was perfectly pleasant, Yuuichi couldn't help but think about how that man had been treating Kyoya for years. Father seemed oblivious for Yuuichi's hatred, or at least chose to ignore it. In father's eyes, Yuuichi could do no wrong- he was the heir after all.

Yuuichi hated that sentiment, especially when, after the meeting, father had asked if Kyoya was behaving- not if he was doing well, or if he was happy, no: if he was behaving. It turned Yuuichi's stomach to realise that was how father saw the kid, that was how father assumed everyone saw Kyoya. He had informed father that Kyoya's was very happy and was doing well, it was disgusting how father looked skeptical.

But Yuuichi had almost forgotten that when he sat down with Kyoya and Kyoya's friends for some food. It was sweet how Kyoya had fallen asleep with a hen on his lap, it had amused Yuuichi greatly and clearly it had amused the hosts as well. At that moment, Yuuichi sat in his office, going over paperwork, he didn't really care for this stuff, he couldn't help but worry about Kyoya- oh and he had good reason to worry. The Souh child had mentioned Kyoya wearing dresses twice at school, and Yuuichi simply had to pray that his baby brother hadn't gotten mocked for it. He wondered once again why Kyoya kept dressing like that, it always seemed in situations where none of the family could see too… Yuuichi hoped Kyoya knew that he at least would support him through anything.

This paperwork, it was just some boring admin work for a few of the family hospitals, and some signing of papers for the new wellness centre- Kyoya and his friends had tested it for them just this year, and now it was going to open. Yuuichi thought it might be nice to bring Kyoya and maybe a friend or two on a nice week or maybe weekend there, but it wouldn't be open for a little while; there were still a few kinks to work out.

After he finished the paperwork, it was half past eleven at night, he sighed, glancing at his coffee, he should probably turn in for the night. He approached Kyoya's room, knocking gently on the door before peering around the door, he saw the hosts all sat around the room, talking. Yuuichi didn't know what they'd been talking about, as they had become silent when he entered. He smiled at all of them, "you guys should probably start turning in for the night, I'm going to bed now myself. Oh, and Fujioka? Can I speak with you in the morning? I have some questions." He figured since Kyoya never had that dress before going shopping with the commoner boy, that it must be where he got it from, he may as well ask.

The commoner nodded, though, like the others, he looked confused. Kyoya was clearly racking his brain for reasons Yuuichi might have to speak with the commoner, it seemed he couldn't find one. "Goodnight then." He smiled again before ducking back out of the room and continuing to his own.

Laying in bed, Yuuichi thought about how he always thought Kyoya looked much more natural in more feminine clothing, how when Kyoya was very little, they used to play games- princesses and dragons… Kyoya always wanted to play the princess just like Fiyumi, taking the little pointy hat from her and running around in a too-large shirt. He had never thought much of it; of course Kyoya would want to be like Fiyumi, Yuuichi certainly wasn't the best role model. The more and more he thought about it, however, he wondered if there was more to it then that, he'd seen Kyoya wearing that dress after all…

Yuuichi was not a morning person, none of the family were. He did manage to drag himself out of bed though, heading to the kitchen to find Yuki already awake, making a large amount of scrambled eggs. She smiled at him, "awake already sir? I have to tell you that one of your brother's friends came down here at five am, asking for cake. Is it alright that I let him have the rest of the cake?"

"Oh that's odd," Yuuichi started making some coffee, amused by Kyoya's friends' antics, "sure, I don't mind." He decided to make more coffee, for Kyoya and his friends. Maddie entered the kitchen at that point, smiling and nodding to them. Yuuichi returned the smile, raising his mug, "morning Maddie, could you go wake Kyoya and his friends for him? Thank you."

Maddie nodded, "alright, I'll get to doin that then, you got the coffee ready sir?" Yuuichi handed her the tray and she headed back out of the kitchen, likely to Kyoya's room.

Yuuichi sat down, sipping his coffee as Yuki put a plate of eggs in front of him. "Thank you, Yuki. Once you're done with your duties you may take the rest of the day off."

"Oh! Thank you sir!!" She beamed, clearly happy by this news as she rides to complete her duties in record time. Yuuichi knew that she'd mostly be spending the day playing video games, that or watching other people play video games- Yuuichi never understood how that was fun for anyone but each to their own he supposed.

Kyoya and his friends came downstairs after a while, happily eating the eggs they were given. Kyoya was quiet, grumbling under his breath about having to wake up. The others seemed happy though, laughing and chatting and greeting Yuuichi with glee, Yuuichi was glad Kyoya had such nice friends.

He had pulled the commoner aside just like he said he would, sighing, he looked down at him, "did Kyoya get his dress from you?"

The boy paused, looking up at Yuuichi in concern. It was clear that the common boy was taking the defensive stance, "there's nothing wrong with him experimenting." The boy's tone was harsh and biting, Yuuichi realised the only experience this boy had had with Kyoya's family was witnessing father hit him…

He put his hands up, taking a step back, "I didn't say there was, I just wanted to know if you gave it to him, what else do you know?" He sighed, "I'm so sorry if you perceive me as a threat, but I just want to support my brother. Is there anything you can tell me?"

Haruhi looked so surprised, but smiled softly, "of course sir, I was throwing away some old feminine clothes and senpai had argued that it 'wasn't' feminine so I told him he could take it. He hasn't actually told me anything but he did keep asking me about how gender works, so I do have to wonder." He reached out and put a hand on Yuuichi's arm, "I'm glad Kyoya has someone he can look to for comfort, we all worry about him."

Yuuichi was equally as glad that Kyoya had friends, the idea of Kyoya being supported and cared for. He smiled down at the boy, "thank you, I hope you also look out for him." Haruhi nodded and Yuuichi sighed with relief, "thank you."

Kyoya was once again spending the day with his friends, they were heading out for the day so Yuuichi had an entire day to himself. He had a few days off so he did what any busy person does with a day off; he calls his sister.

"Hello?"

Fiyumi had picked up almost instantly and made Yuuichi smile, she was always so punctual. "Good morning Fiyumi, are you free today? Kyoya's out with his friends and I'm not working so did you want to go to the spa or something like that?"

"Oh yes! Akito did tell me that Kyoya moved in with you! How wonderful! Uh-huh," there was the sound of clicking- likely Fiyumi checking her schedule, "oh awesome! Yeah I've got the whole day free up until maybe five? 'Cause it's date night so me and my husband have a reservation somewhere really nice, he has yet to tell me where." She giggled softly, god, Yuuichi adored his little sister, "what spa did you want to go to? A nearby one?"

That was how Yuuichi found himself sitting in a sauna, discussing Kyoya with his sister. "-so I think he clings to you because you remind him of father but nicer," Fiyumi was probably right, Yuuichi nodded in agreement, she was so good at reading Kyoya.

"Yeah… enough about trauma, do you remember when we used to play princesses and dragons?"

Fiyumi nodded, brushing some hair out of her eyes, "yeah! And Kyoya always used to be a princess! He was such a sweet little kid…"

"He's been wearing dresses again."

"Huh? Has he?"

"Yeah," Yuuichi started, unsure if he should even be saying this, "he got a dress from his friend and I saw him wearing it in front of the mirror- he's gotten new hair clips too. Apparently he's worn dresses as part of his club activities too."

Fiyumi nodded slowly, "ok, so is that something we should be worried about?"

"Not really, I'm just glad he feels safe enough to explore himself like that…"

She chuckled softly, "you're his brother, he trusts you when you tell he's safe there." She very clearly pauses, examining his expression, "you are worried, aren't you, Yuui? You're worried Kyoya will find something whilst exploring and you won't be able to protect him from everyone who wouldn't like that. I'm right aren't I? I can tell."

…She was right, that was the one thing Yuuichi was scared of. His biggest fear was not being able to protect his siblings… and if Kyoya kept dressing the way he had in his room, even going so far as to do so in public… would Yuuichi be able to protect him? He hated how well Fiyumi could read him. Yuuichi nodded, sighing, "I just want to make sure he's safe…"

"I know Yuui, I know. I feel the exact same way, but you know… you've gotta give him some room, has he said anything about it to you yet?"

He shook his head, "no, he doesn't even know I saw him wearing the dress…"

Fiyumi paused, sighing heavily and massaging her temples. "Yuuichi…" He suddenly felt even more guilty, Fiyumi might be younger than him but she was always the more emotionally mature one. "Don't you dare mention that to anyone, ok? Ok good. Now Kyoya doesn't have to say anything to you if he doesn't want to, and nothing might come of this. But if he does say something then you still don't bring up what you saw, you take everything he says as gospel and you listen and give him the space he needs, ok? This is our baby brother, he deserves the safe space you promised him."

Yuuichi nodded, understanding that she was completely correct. He felt guilty when he realised he'd already tried to forcefully support Kyoya, what with the apron… god, he was stupid. He sighed, "you're right, you're always right. Thank you Fiyumi, I needed that."

"Just speaking my mind," she shrugs, smiling.

After the sauna and a deep tissue massage, they went to get lunch, sitting down in a lovely little café. They both got coffees and some food; Fiyumi ordered soup whilst Yuuichi got a small pie. It was nice to just sit and talk about everything and nothing. It seemed that Fiyumi had something on her mind, however, "I have to ask, how did father react when you told him you were taking Kyoya?"

Yuuichi paused, remembering the argument he'd had with father, "well… I'd been screaming at him for over an hour at that point, and I slammed the office door after telling him I was taking Kyoya so I'm not sure how he reacted," he chuckled lightly, remembering father's face, "I didn't give him the chance to."

Fiyumi's eyes sparkled at the thought of Yuuichi standing up to father and Yuuichi understood it completely- he remembered how hard his heart had hammered in his chest. "Woahh… you're so brave Yuui, I definitely wouldn't be able to talk back to father, let alone yell at him."

He didn't like it when Fiyumi downplayed her own confidence like that, he knew first hand how brave she could be. "Don't say that, Fiyumi, you're braver than you think."

"Thanks…"

[vanchlo]

Magic Moment

Hello! I could NOT resist writing another blurb about boyfriend!harry for my lovely friend, @bfharry‘s BOYFRIENDATHON after I got this idea! I’ve always loved baseball myself and playing lots of catch at work recently inspired this, as well as falling in love with Queen ;) Enjoy  some fluff about playing catch with boyfriend!harry at your childhood home c:

*

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.4k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: This Magic Moment by Ben E. King and The Drifters (click to listen and yes Sandlot *wink*) 

*

“Follow your heart, kid, and you can never go wrong.”

- The Sandlot

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” you jest, giggling nervously. The screen door closes with a loud whap! behind the both of you.

“Ya, maybe it wasn’t fer you,” he sighs in a whisper, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His high-top white converses slap! down the wooden stairs quickly. “I think I need anotha beer afta that.”

“Follow me.”

A humid heat hits you in the face when you open the scarlet-colored door to the garage. The familiar smell welcomes you, and so do the sights of your father’s tools hanging up on the walls. The lawn mower still sits in the same spot, his pair of old glasses remain perched on the windowsill, and the tiny mini fridge in the corner awaits your call.

“Thanks,” he mumbles after taking a long pull from the refreshing beer. You opt for a Whiskey-Coke, instead, the carbonation sending shooting stars across your tongue. You watch him wipe away the bead of sweat running down his forehead, and then the subsequent smile that drills the dimples into his cheeks. “Bloody hell, if that isn’t tha cutest thing ‘ve eva seen.”

A questioning ‘what’ barely passes your lips once you spot the miniature lilac colored baseball glove on a shelf. Next, a laugh falls from your lips and he echoes it with his own adorable concoction. 

“Hard t’ believe yer hand was eva that tiny, love.”

“I know, it’s funny that my dad kept it around.”

“I would if I were him, ‘s bloody adorable,” he notes, picking up the battered leather mitt with a content smile. “Ah, lookie here. Up fer a game o’ catch, love? Bet I could whoop yer ass.”

“Harry, you can’t beat somebody in catch!” you protest, the cool liquid gracing your lips, providing you a few seconds of relief from the summer heat. 

“We’ll just see ‘bout that, now won’t we?” he teases with a wiggle of his eyebrows. A tan, leather baseball glove hits you square in the chest, landing in your arms while he slips on a darker twin of it. “C’mon, I wanna see how girly of a throw ya got.”

“Oh, shut up. You have no idea what’s coming for you. You’re dating a former softball player here.”

“Am I now? Ya don’t seem that intimidatin’ t’ me, miss,” Harry laughs softly, the billowy cotton of his red Hawaiian themed shirt catching the wind once your feet find the grass. “Dunno how anythin’ can be intimidatin’ afta meetin’ yer bleedin’ father, tho’. Bloody hell,” he remarks, shaking his head. 

“It really wasn’t that bad, Harry,” you correct him, placing your tall can beside his dark glass bottle. 

“It was. Didn’t know he’d be so fookin’ hard on me, askin’ all o’ those questions. He never even smiled at me once, babe,” he scoffs, sliding the glove onto his large hand and messing around with it until it’s comfortable enough. 

“Yes, he did.”

“No, he didn’t. Or I didn’t see it. Dunno why he was so cold t’ me. Ya’ve always had such good things t’ say ‘bout growin’ up with him . . ,” he exhales, tossing the ancient brown and red baseball into the mitt. His short curls dance around atop his head as he crosses the large backyard, the very same one you played kickball in, where you hit home run balls into the woods, set cartwheel records in, and still have the pieces of wood set into the ground marking the bases. 

“He’s quiet, Harry, that’s all. You just have to find something in common with him, and then you’ll hit it off. I promise you, he liked you.”

“Don’t believe ya there, he was givin' me tha evil eye tha whole time durin’ dinna, even tho’ I was fakin’ likin’ his burgers. They were dry as hell,” he grumbles, soon coming to a stop a good way across the grassy area. Messing with his light-washed denim shorts, he checks his phone before letting it fall back into one of its pockets. “Reckon ‘s cuz yer his li’l girl, loads mo’ protective o’ you cuzz’a that.” 

“Keep going, I’m not a sissy.”

“Oh, so I should go long, ‘s that right? Dunno if ya can make it t’ me if I go back any farther,” he winks, the dimples set into his cheeks all the way from here, you notice.

“Would you hush? I pitched all throughout high school, I can make your hand hurt from catching it, if you keep running your mouth,” you argue. 

“Oooooo, she’s gettin’ feisty now,” he chuckles, raising his voice to carry across the clipped green grass, tall trees framing the yard. He pats his taut fist into the palm of the glove, the baseball snug in his large hand. Why, of course it is, Mr. Huge Hands.

Seconds later, the ball soars through the air and banks to the left, but with a jump, you catch it just in time. 

“What the hell was that?” you laugh, holding up your hands. 

“Erm, ‘m warmin’ up? Y’know, gotta get the old righty back in ‘s place,” he insists, stretching his dominant arm this way and that, ever so dramatically. 

“Whatever. You’re full of shit, Harry,” you call back, adding extra volume to your voice. His bottom lip escapes to between his teeth while his head goes from side to side. You surprise him with your throw and he misses it, pulling a loud laugh from your lips. “Not so confident, are we now?”

“Shuddup! Ya were a bloody softball player, ya got advantage ova me, ‘s not fair.”

“Don’t you start whining now! You’re the one who wanted to play catch with a five time-.”

“Ya ya, we get tha point, babe. Yer a bloody star when it comes t’ softball. I know, I know. Wish I coulda seen ya play, woulda been fun. Ya should join a summer league, they sound like a hoot,” he comments, locating the ball at last back in the woods and landing it in your glove. 

“And I played with my brother all of the time, and he was M.V.P two years in a row on his high school baseball team.”

“Good fer him, maybe he should be out here playin’ with you, instead,” Harry says when your throw to him sails over his head. “God, can ya control that arm o’ yers fer once?”

“Sorry!” you laugh, knowing that he doesn’t believe it for a second. 

“Sure ya are.” 

The ball arrives in your mitt with a pleasing whap! and your hand settles over it. Brushing your fingers along the coarse stitches, the shocks of green grass stains on the leather welcome you back to your childhood, tossing around this very same ball with your older brother and father. The nostalgia brings your hand to your pocket, and your fingers soon tap the screen of your phone. 

“C’mon, slow poke! What’re ya waitin’ fer? ‘Fraid ‘ll beat ya afta all?” Harry quips from across the yard, nearing you to retrieve his beer that he sips from. With a pleased ‘ahhhh,’ he sets it down on the gray cinder blocks of the nearby fire pit after walking back, placing enough space between him and it so he doesn’t run into it. 

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, music soon pours from the large bluetooth speaker in between you against the garage. 

“‘s this just fantasy? Caught inn’a landslide, no escape from realityyyyyy. Open yer eyes, look up t’ tha skies, and seeeeee,” Harry sings loudly, pumping his arms down at his sides and closing his eyes adamantly. “‘m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy. Because ‘m easy come, easy go, li’l high, li’l low.” 

“Any way the wind blows, doesn’t really matter to meeeeee,” you sing back, savoring the large smile painting his face as he catches your throw with ease. 

“Toooo meeee,” he sings back. “Mamaaaaaa just killed a man, put a gun against his head. Pulled my trigger, now’s he dead. Mamaaaaa, life had just begunnnn. But now ‘ve gone and thrown it all awayyyyy,” he sings to the baby blue skies dotted with clouds, adamantly strumming an invisible guitar. He echoes your laugh that flies between the two of you, joining the robins and starlings flitting between the trees. “Knew I picked a good one, she’s got a good arm and a bloody good taste in music. Ya betta play Take On Me next, or all bets are off.”

“Oh, you know that I will. It feels like an eighties night, playing catch in the backyard during the summer. It’s just like when I was little,” you note aloud, jogging to the right to catch his next throw until it falls into your glove. 

“‘Bout tha same fer me, just with footy, think this ‘s how ‘d like t’ spend my summers still . . I loved it so much, playin’ in tha backyard listenin’ t’ tha radio, and think my kids would too,” he says casually, sparking a blush in your cheeks at the mention of him as a father. Oh, what you would do to be able to see him playing catch with a little dark-haired boy or girl who calls him ‘Daddy.’ 

Fuck me, you think hastily. 

Quickly, your shared favorite part of the song comes and he imitates the guitar shredding while you repeatedly toss the ball into your mitt, watching him. 

“But eva since I watched Wayne’s World as a kid, I can’t avoid bangin’ my head when it gets t’ this part,” Harry chuckles, tossing a pop fly towards the overhang of tree branches. “I love tha trees here, ya know, ‘ve neva seen so many.” 

“Me too, I love that part in the movie, and I love them too. It’s crazy to think how long they’ve been around to get this big. Some of them were as tall as I am now when I was little.”

“Huh,” he hums curiously, shooting into the air to grab a high one you tried to trick him with. Your eyes can’t help but wander to his dark fern tattoos that peek out when his shirt rises. “Ya think I should keep it still, or get rid o’ it?” Harry poses to you, puckering his lips at you with a mischievous grin. 

“You almost remind me of Freddie Mercury with that ‘stache,” you say, the laugh growing from somewhere deep inside of you. He shrugs his shoulders and tosses a fast one back to you, hitting your glove square in the center with a heavy slap! 

“Dunno why ya think that’s such a good joke, ‘s a damn compliment, if ya ask me.” 

“Uh oh, are we getting a big head over there because you’ve caught my last three throws?” you joke, watching the ball soar high into the air amongst the green covering of the trees. 

“Hey, be easy on me,” he pouts, his words disagreeing with his actions that send a hot fastball into your palm. 

“Why? You’re never easy on me when we play Mario Kart or Cribbage.” 

“Hey! You don’t have a bleedin’ nearly professional career in any o’ those!” he protests and then curses when your curveball nicks the tip of his glove. 

“So, and neither do you, and you’re still aggressive as fuck when we play them! Huh, what’s your excuse, Harry?” 

“Galileo!” he calls out. 

“Galileo!” you echo, and the rest follow suit between the two of you as the song plays. 

“‘m just a poor boyyyyy, nobody loves me,” he sings loudly, causing you to cough on your drink that you take a swig from. 

“Keep telling yourself that,” you shoot back, setting down the wet can as he approaches you. 

“But I am,” he whines, pushing out his bottom lip that you flick with your finger. 

“Watch it!” 

“Or what?” you counter, savoring the annoyed expression that soon fills his features. There’s just something about pushing his buttons that gets you going, even though you know that you shouldn’t do it. 

“Or else I won’t bloody learn tha rest o’ Blackbird on guitar fer you,” he retorts playfully, taking a long pull from his bottle. 

Now, it’s your turn to shout ‘hey!’ until he scoops you into his arms, your surprised shriek piercing the sky. 

“You better finish learning it! But, I think that I like Freddie better.”

“How? Paul ‘s far betta. ‘ll always love Queen, and The Beatles don’t have anythin’ on Bohemian Rhapsody, but Paul ‘s tha betta musician. Trust me, I should know,” he disagrees, pecking your temple before pulling away and tossing the ball into your waiting glove. 

“But, Freddie had a four octave range.”

“And? So does Paul,” Harry shrugs, raising his left arm in the air to snag your fastpitch that he almost loses. “Paul McCartney ‘s tha superior musician, just trust me on this.” 

“Paul McCartney has nothing on Freddie Mercury,” a voice pipes up, turning the both of your heads to the right where you find your dad stepping out of the garage with a weathered black baseball glove snug upon his right hand. 

You swear that you could hear Harry’s apprehensive gulp from all of the way over here, and when you look, you find his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

“But Paul was betta on guitar, bass, and drums,” Harry argues, nervously tossing the ball into his glove repeatedly. 

Your dad closes the door behind him softly, and steps out on the grass, adjusting his glasses. Surprise is absent from your range of emotions when your dad shrugs his shoulders, but you’re sure that it coats Harry’s insides in the next few moments. 

“You’re right there, I like somebody who can stand up for their argument,” he comments, nodding a head towards Harry who out of the corner of your eye is smiling, just the slightest. “I think I might like this one,” he says to you, holding out his glove towards Harry, with his lips curling into his cheeks. 

The smile on your boyfriend’s face almost matches that of your father’s, but he’s got nothing on the grin plastered across Harry’s face because of your next words. 

“I think I do, too, Dad.”

[imagineofallkindsxxx]

Eternal Flame- Kol Mikaelson 3/?

Chapter 1- You're the Hybrid?

Summary: Singing. Thats all what Alexandra Gilbert has cared about since she was young and all she would care about until she met him.

With Alexandra fighting vampires, werewolves an all between she may do a thing she vowed never to do, fall in love.

And to think it all started with a walk in the woods...

The room was pitch black I could barely see what's in front of me my fingers getting clipped and cut on the item in my hands. Finally, it was fixed but then the worst thing happened. The door opened.

The room was filled with light from the lights on the ceiling of the room and all of the hard work we created was useless now with all the neatly placed mouse traps springing open making me question the reason of everything. I looked up and saw an alarmed looking Matt Donovan making me feel even more depressed, wondering what I ever did to deserve this.

"Oh come on! Seriously?!? Do you know how long this took for us to set all this up?!?" Caroline yelled at the blonde footballer essentially expressing my thoughts out loud.

"Forgot about senior prank night?" Tyler Lockwood asked his best friend.

"Clearly." he replied seeming confused by the whole ordeal that has been tradition since well ever.

"How could you forget We've only been waiting for this since freshman year!" Caroline once again yelled and not gonna lie I agree with her until last year all of us had been dying for us to prank the teachers following the footsteps of those before us trying to outdo them.

"Yeah, Matt if I'm doing this, you're doing this" Elena chipped in

"Doing what? Having fun what a travesty" I sassed rolling my eyes at my sister "Lord give me strength." I whispered so no one but Caroline would hear me throwing me a glare where I just shrugged innocently. I mean it's not my fault that Elena became boring when dumb and dumber came along.

"I'm surprised any of you are doing this" Matt said, what are we supposed to do just stand around and worry about what might happen? Feel guilty about the deaths we've caused? If we do that, we'll miss college.

"Caroline's making us." Bonnie piped up

"Not making me. To be perfectly honest I'm enjoying myself" I shrug attempting to fix a mouse trap not making eye contact with anyone but still managing to make Caroline to smile at me.

"We're about to be seniors. These are memories that will stay with us forever, and if we don't..." she trailed off still trying to be positive compared to the rest of us.

"And if we don't create memories now, then what's the point of it all?" My sister finished for her best friend making Caroline deflate at the tone of her voice making me feel like snapping at her again but for sake of Caroline I decided to focus on her more than my annoyance or Elena.

"Go ahead make fun, I don't care" She replied, obviously lying to us, hurt how the majority of her friends are making fun of an idea to get all of our mind of the supernatural by doing normal things a teen would enjoy. I wasn't the only one seeing how upset Caroline was with her boyfriend saying.

"You're all lame. And I've got ten more classes to prank." I decided to pitch in after he announced his leave.

"Yeah, I'm meeting my boys in the chem lab, we're 'doing something awesome to Jones' according to Jamie anyway" a small smirk on my face "See you losers later" winking at Caroline.

When out of the class I headed along the hall to get to the class seeing Tyler giving some students instructions "Seems like Caroline's rubbing off on you Ty" a small smile on my face, instead of verbally responding he just rolled his eyes playfully continuing to give instructions.

I kept on wondering down the dark and quiet hallway feeling creeped out. All of a sudden I heard a slamming of a door making me feel more aware of my surroundings ready to run in case of any well unusual people out there

"Who's there?" I shouted out on instinct before realising what a stupid move that was. Well done Alex if they didn't know you were here they do now my subconscious reminded me, I slowly walked towards the noise until I heard from behind me.

"Boo!" I turned around and punched whoever it was on instinct "Fucking hell Andie!" the mysterious 'creature' yelled making me realise it was just Mark then hearing laughter behind him making me see he isn't alone but thing one and two were here as well.

"Jesus Andie remind me never to get in a fight with you" Sam managed out before James saying "Yeah next boxing match I'm putting my money on you"

I give them an unimpressed look "oh you mean all 10 cent you know seeing as though the last time you bet you lost 100 dollars" casting up how he bet on the Dolphins winning the super bowl losing 100 dollars in the process. "And you. carry on way you're acting and we'll be getting in a fight quite soon" I told James.

"Not a word." was all I said to Mark knowing a sarcastic comment was coming causing him roll his eyes. "Right gents what class are we supposed to be pranking?" before following a still grinning James to the chemistry lab belonging to Mr Jones' the hatred between him and Jamie running deep with the detentions and destruction in the past 3 years.

"Of course it would be Jones. Your obsession with each other is genuinely unhealthy." Sam remarked with an eye roll.

"Gotta agree with Sammy on that Jame" Mark seconded with me making a noise of agreement while looking through the bag he brought with him finding confetti, superglue, a large cut out of about 8 feet cut out of the periodic table and purple paint?

"Yeah well, I could say same for you and Kayleigh Jackson." referring to the rivalry between Kayleigh a kind blonde braniac who was on the cheer squad and honestly the only girl in this school I would trust with my life. Her and Sam had a rivalry which stemmed from how Kayleigh fought over a red crayon with him in kindergarten ever since they fight over the most stupid things, from what colour nitrogen mixed with sulphuric acid to whose cake was better in home economics, honestly, it's just became a way of life.

"Right before we start fighting about whose rivalry is worse let's get on with the prank?" I suggested with the back up from my blue-eyed best friend.

"So, you want to superglue the periodic table coloured in purple his least favourite colour" I started before Sam butted in

"How do you know his least favourite colour exactly?"

"I have my ways you have yours" Jesus this is hard work but I tried to continue "Then rig up this contraption when he opens his door tomorrow, he'll have confetti fallen on him?"

"and superglue" he added

I stared at him for a few seconds before saying "Sounds good. I'll get started on the confetti and super glue"

We all joked and tried our best to prank Mr Jones to the best of our ability and not just because of the hated between a certain drummer and the teacher himself. After we did that, we walked to the next class Mr Curtis our favourite music teacher but before we could begin, we were interrupted by Harry from my political studies class coming in and telling all of us

"Hate to break it guys but we've been busted, teacher saw us pranking the gym hall." he told us with a sympathetic smile. once he told us this, we all groaned and complained

"That's shit"

"You're joking!"

"No. That aint right."

"Jesus Christ. Why is god against me?"

"Don't shoot the messenger guys." Harry replied with his hand up in surrender walking out of the class.

Mark sighed "Well this is shit."

"I know fucking hate this" James agreed shaking his head. I swear I saw a tear in his brown eye.

"What can we do gents? We're caught. Just think of Mr Jones face tomorrow that's all you have to think about to get through the day" I told them trying to show them a silver lining to this horrible end of a great night.

"Yeah, doesn't make it any better." The drummer moaned "Do any of you need a ride?"

"Yeah, that'd be great"

"Yes, please my man" the two other males answered the brunette.

"Can't sorry boys, have to go home with my sister. Sorry" I declined

"Good luck, Alex" Mark said somewhat making it sound sarcastic making me throw a pencil at him as he raced out the classroom.

"See ya tomorrow my girl"

"Adios gorgeous" the other two more sensible- at that moment- boys said. I waved them good bye before we walked out of the class going in opposite directions with them heading out to the parking lot and me like an idiot going through all the school looking for my sister. Texting her asking where she was.

"She better not have left me" I muttered before opening the doors to enter the Gym hall.

"Alex! get out of here!" was all I heard looking up from my phone seeing an unusual scene in front of me to say the least. An empty hall with the exception of my sister, chad from Miss Golds class and Dana the girl who co-organised the whole prank night with Caroline and a man in his 20's? next to Elena seeming to be talking to her.

For once it looked like my sister had the right so I turned and bolted towards the doors only to be stopped by the same man that was conversing with the doppelganger.

""Now, now love. Who may you be?" He said in a nice posh British accent looking into my eyes therefore me being able to understand I'm being compelled.

"Someone on vervain." I snarked back "Try an eat me and it'll be like drinking acid, or so I've been told." I told him acting innocent at the old. he rolls his eyes as though expecting the sarcasm. Stefan must have told him everything about the entirety of the school.

This dick of a vampire gripped my am tightly and threw me onto the ground.

"Jesus be a bit gentler. Love." adding a bit more English mannerisms sarcastically where he just smirked back. Asshole.

"Alex! Are you okay?" My sister asks worried for my safety. I looked around my surroundings once more seeing Dana keeping her leg up wobbling every now and kind of like she's being controlled.

"Been better, been worse." I replied to my sister getting up "What's wrong with Dana and Chad?" I asked the brunette doppelganger; she opened her mouth but before she could reply the mysterious and freak of a vampire answered for her.

"Well love I compelled them. You seem to know what that means?" I glared at him thinking of any wooded objects that would kill the vampire in front of me there's a pencil you stole from Sam in your back pocket use that but before I could I heard my sister ask the vampire.

"Where's Stefan? What did you do to him?"

"Stefan's on a bit of a time out" What? Stefans with that psycho hybrid? Oh my days... before anything else was said I gave out a little laugh

"You're the hybrid? the scary murderous sociopath everyone is talking about? you look like an old man with dire need of a new war-" but before I could finish, he ran towards me pushing me against the back wall threatening to kill me in a chokehold.

"That may be so but I can break your neck with a single flick." he said with a murderous tone and eyes that look like he wanted to kill me but couldn't?

"Duly noted." I managed to get out before hearing him laugh in my face letting me go and fall to the floor with a crash.

"Now what is your name sweetheart?" but before I could reply Bonnie and Matt open the doors and enter the huge hall

"Bonnie, get out of here!" My sister yelled

"Go, Bon, Leave!" I shouted along with her well attempted to shout. But in a blink of an eye the hybrid was in front of the Bennett witch, now this is a fight I would like to see. On Bonnies side of course.

"Ah I was wondering when you'd show up. Now we can get started."

***********************************************************

A/N: thought I'd end it like that cause I want to do two chapters an episode maybe. Therfore warning to readers itll be a while until you meet Kol however there will be bits and pieces which relate to Kol but not going to say anything else.

Let me know what you think and if I can do anything to improve my future writing or this chapter.

Also Ashleigh is a REALLY good friend of hers, her best girl friend.

Thank you for reading lovelies xxx

[honeypirate]

Reunited part three

Master list

Nishinoya x y/n

Kissing Noya became one of your favorite things. That night you finished the movie then he took the remote and switched it back to your game replay, he just smiles when you quirk your eyebrow at him when he settles back into cuddling you and holding your hand. “This part” he points to the tv and you open your eyes to look, you had been dozing on his shoulder as you drew things along his hand with your finger. He’s so excited and it makes your stomach flip “I saw this part in a highlights clip online. You absolutely perfected this libero set” he’s buzzing with praise for you and you blush “thank you! I worked so hard! But it’s also perfected by the other team members. Lisa there,” you point to the wing spiker “she’s our ace, she pushed herself so hard to get to jump that high. She pushes herself as much as I do” he laughs and brings your arm up to his lips, kissing your fingers, then your wrist, then up your arm slowly, making sure he kisses all your bruises and marks. Your heart is beating rapidly and you have a cute smile on your lips as you watch him. You feel so comfortable and at home with him here, you already know it’s going to be really hard when he leaves, you feel tears starting to prick your eyes so you quickly shove those feelings away. Happy to just be in this moment with him. “Yū” you whisper as he gets to your shoulder and buries his face in your neck, smiling and giving you small sweet kisses. “Y/n” his voice was quiet, the game was forgotten as you both cuddled and held each other, his head on your shoulder and your arms around him. You ended up adjusting your body so you could lay on the couch now with him laying between your legs with his head up on your shoulder and his breathing soft on your neck. You played with his hair and soon you both were asleep

You woke up to the smell of coffee and pancakes, when you opened your eyes you leaned up and saw him quietly dancing the kitchen, wearing your apron. He tries to flip a pancake in the air but it falls on his head, you try to hide your laughter but he turns when he hears you, a big smile on his face. “Good morning beautiful!!” He says excitedly “breakfast is almost ready and there is coffe here for you too!” You stand from the couch and stretch out your arms in the air, he notices the rise of your shirt and your obvious bralessness which he realized that’s why he was so comfortable laying on your chest last night. His face blushes deep red as he turns his attention back to pancakes. You wrap the blanket around your shoulders and walk over to him wrapping your arm around his waist and laying your head on his shoulder. “Thank you. This is perfect” you kiss his shoulder then get some coffee.

he brings a plate of pancakes and other food to the table. “I made American pancakes, and a few other things that we used to eat a lot as kids” you grin when you see the spread, your stomach grumbling. “This looks amazing. You’re the best, babe!” You don’t even notice the word slip from your mouth as you start to eat, humming with joy and doing a tiny dance in your seat. He freezes for a second, you guys and kissed, but honestly he still didn’t know what it meant long term. He was gonna take it slow and see what happens, he didn’t expect you to call him a pet name and he didn’t expect to love it so much. His cheeks flush and he smiles, trying to calm down his racing heart. “Babe, huh?” He says quietly and you choke on your pancake, coughing a bit before swallowing. “Sorry I didn’t even notice.” You say quietly and take a drink if your coffee. “No no don’t be sorry.” He tucks your hair behind your ear “I like when you call me sweet names” he says before starting to eat and focusing on his food. You blush and continue your meal, feeling very domestic with him, it made your heart soar.

After breakfast you clean up before going to brush your teeth and put ready for your typical Monday. You throw on your VB shorts and a sports bra, throwing on a hoodie over the top. You get your training bag ready and bring it out to the living room.

You stop in your bedroom doorway frozen, Noya’s standing at the table, all cleaned up in a nice pair of black jeans and a tucked in white button up that he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. He’s got a pen in his teeth as he digs through his bag trying to find something. He looked so good, like he belonged here in your kitchen, and for a second you could imagine a whole life of possibilities with him. You smile warmly as he finds what he needs with a triumphant look.

Pulling yourself together you walk over, setting your bag down next to his “Hey beautiful girl” he looks at you with such kindness and adoration in his eyes. You smile back at him as you wrap your arms around his middle laying your head on his chest. “Hey hun” your voice is soft “you look really handsome. What do you have going on today?” He rubs soft circles on your back “I have a meeting with the American branch of the magazine I work for, they want me to go to a game in a couple weeks so I’m basically just picking up documents and information.” The game you have next month flashes in your head but you stamp that out, there’s so many games he could be going to. “I have practice until five, and th...” he gets excited “wanna get dinner after?” You laugh and reluctantly pull away, ending the hug “that’s what I was gonna ask.” He apologizes for cutting you off and you kiss his cheek “dinner tonight. I’ll meet you back here at like 5:15 because the gym isnt far from here and I just walk. Also.” You reach into your bag and pull out your spare key. “This is for you” he takes it with a smile “perfect thanks y/n” his phone beeps and he curses under his breath “I gotta go or im gonna be late” he throws his bag over his shoulder and slips on his shoes before pulling you into a hug and and a kiss, then a second kiss, third, you pull away blushing “go babe! Don’t be late. I’ll see you tonight!” You give him a push and he laughs giving you one more kiss before running out your apartment door.

It’s been a few weeks with him in your home, you’ve been in a sweet routine with him now. Morning breakfast, getting together for dinner then you’d talk and cuddle and kiss before bed. Today you woke up extra early, the time with him has been fun and great except all the girls that flirt with him. He doesn’t really pay them any attention but it still makes you jealous. You cuddled and kiss a lot, call each other sweet things. But what were you? You were confused and decided that a run would clear your head.. But you lose track of time pushing yourself to just keep going and by the time you get back home you have just a few minutes to get your stuff together before you have to leave for practice.

“Y/n! Good morning!” His cheerful voice made your heart skip as you ran inside the apartment. “Hey Noya! I lost track of time on a run and now I’m gonna be late!” You laugh and basically jog into your room.

You come out with your bag across your back and you stop in your tracks when you take him in. His tan suit pants and black button up shirt, black belt, and black shoes. You can smell his cologne and it gives you butterflies. Damn he looked so good.

You felt a familiar twinge of jealously before reminding yourself that he leaves in a few months and to not get too attached. “Dinner tonight?” He says and smiles turning to look at you. “Yes” your voice cracks and you clear your throat “same time?” You ask and he nods enthusiastically. You get your wits about you now and return to running out of the apartment with a see you later.

You were late. And you were never late. It make him worried. He wondered if it was because he hadn’t made another move yet. Did you forget about him? Have you stopped caring about him? Did he do something wrong? He tried to get rid of his anxiety and forced himself to just patiently wait.

When you walk through your apartment door at 5:45, thirty minutes late, you drop your bag immediately and close the door before turning to look at him sitting on the couch. He was dressed in some jeans and a simple hoodie and looked absolutely delicious, he looked a little worried and was about to ask you what’s up before he saw the look in your eye. Frustrated and holding in what looked like hours of unshed years. He stands and takes a Step towards you as the dam breaks and you cover your face with your hand as you sob.

He notices the bandage on your left hand as he softly pulls you into his chest. He holds you and hums softly and when you’re calmer he asks “Baby what happened?” He says as his strokes your back softly. “You’re gonna..” sniffle “think I’m a baby” he chuckles softly “I already think you’re my baby so just tell me” his slight confession goes over your head for now. “We had a practice game against a college team, which is fine we’ve always beat them, but I tried to block but the ball and it hit at a weird angle. A total fluke and accident. I broke two fingers and the skin split between my ring finger and pinky. I got five stitches. It’s why I’m late.”

As you’re telling him he knows something bad and his stomach sinks when he imagines you getting stitches. When he imagines you in pain it hurts him as well.

“I held up my facade of ‘im fine’ thinking I could convince myself but then I saw you and you look so damn good that I just couldn’t hold it anymore. I’m sorry I ruined your night Nishinoya” you start to cry again, placing your forehead on his chest, thinking that you ruined everything

He holds you “baby it’s okay I don’t care about the night I just care that you’re alright. You’re all I care about” you nod and try and calm down again. “I look good for you only anyway” he whispers and kisses the top of your head.

He runs you a hot bath as you sit on the edge of your bed quietly. When he walks over to you he cups your cheeks and rubs his thumbs under your eyes wiping any tears left away. “Stay?” You ask and he smiles softly with a nod.

You walk into the bathroom and he follows, he reaches down to the hem of your sweatshirt and slowly pulls it over your head carefully. He looks into your eyes as his hands softly touch the band of your shorts and you look so fragile he could cry. It’s a silent question and you nod once before he slides your shorts and underwear down your legs, you lay your good hand on his shoulder to steady yourself when you step out of them. He softly helps you out of your sports bra and then holds your good hand as you step into your deep tub filled with hot water, bubbles, and epsom salt.

He quietly took his hoodie off and set it on your bed as he got the stool from your vanity to sit behind you, he also started playing some soft music. He took the pony from your hair and slipped in on his wrist before slowly and gently getting your hair wet and washing it for you.

His heart aches for you. You’re his perfect girl, of course not his yet but he will ask you to be soon. He doesn’t want you ever in pain. He wanted to help you out in any way he could to make you feel better. Your body was beautiful, he wasn’t blind, but right now you were trusting him and he would never break that trust. He just wanted to take care of you.

You feel the tension and sadness seep out of your body, grateful for the pain meds from the doctor so your hand doesn’t hurt right now. You were putty in his hands as he washed your hair. And when you leaned forward he washed your back with your scrubbie. When you’re clean you stand and he wraps a towel around you before helping you out of the tub.

He helps you to your room, his arm around you comfortingly. “I’m gonna order a pizza and then we should watch something and you should let me hold you” you smile at him and nod “yes please” you say softly and he walks out of your room.

You grab your underwear from your dresser and slip on a pair of black lace boyshorts and decide to grab his hoodie on your bed and slip that on your bare top. After that you grabbed your blanket and made your way out to the couch.

You walked out of your room as he was ordering pizza over the phone, he looked up and smiled when he saw you, then blushed when he noticed you were in his hoodie and just your underwear. You were stunning. The most gorgeous girl.

You sit down on the couch and he comes over when he hangs up. He’s already queued up a movie, a romcom you said you liked a few days ago and you smile when you realize. You look up into his eyes and you almost start to cry again. But this time it’s because how loved you felt. “Yū I..” your voice cracks and he smiles warmly at you before he sits down on the couch and pulls you to his chest. “I know” he says and holds you. He felt it too. The love you both had for each other. You tilt your head up and start to softly pepper kisses along his neck.

A knock on the door pulls him away from you and you sigh.

You eat some pizza and it makes you feel better to have food in your tummy before cuddling with him again and enjoying the movie for a while before getting a little bored. You look up at him, your head on his chest, and you start to draw small circles on his chest. He looks down at you and smiles lovingly.

“I’d be so sad without you here tonight” you say quietly and he blushes “I’m so glad I could be here to take care of you y/n” he brushes his lips softly against yours and your body floods with tingles. The movie ends and you lay together talking about your days other than your accident. You learn about the games he’s been to already and written about. The men’s volleyball team was amazing apparently but he says you’re a much better libero then they have.

It’s getting late and you take some night time medicine, your captain gave you the next few days off to heal but you already know you’ll go to the gym anayway to support your team. You’re standing in your kitchen drinking some water and he walks up and hugs you from behind. You turn around and wrap your arms around him, resting your head against his shoulder and asking “will you sleep in my bed with me? I don’t want to be alone”

Your question gave him butterflies and he nodded “yeah” he says and withholds the urge to jump in excitement. It’s still a little early so you decide to start a show in bed, one that you used to watch together every Wednesday night in high school.

After five minutes of the show you roll over so you’re laying chest to chest and you’re looking at him, studying his face. He starts to blush at your gaze and he can’t hold back a smile as he looks back at you.

He starts to run his fingers through your hair and it gives you a shiver, he pulls the blanket higher up your shoulders and you use the movement you cuddle up closer to him, throwing your legs around him and fully laying on him, your head on his shoulder. “How much longer do I have with you?” You whisper, afraid your voice would crack if you spoke any louder. He frowns “I’m supposed to go to Canada in a little under a month” you groaned and he chuckled a little “y/n” his voice was firm and you leaned up, putting all your weight into your hips against his as you looked in his eyes. He moaned involuntarily as your hips grinder against him and you smiled shyly. “Yū?” You ask and he runs his hands softly up your thighs, slipping under the hoodie and squeezing your hips “I don’t want to lose you” he says and his voice cracks “not again. Do you think we can make this work?” You beam at him. “Please I want that so bad” you say and he pulls you back down to him with a laugh, making sure your left hand was okay “so you’re my girl now?” He asks with excitement and you giggle and say “yes” he lifts your face to his and kisses you before saying “finally”

[kbstories]

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Provisional License Exam & Aftermath, The Boys Are Fighting And Everything Hurts

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Additional content warning for bad communication, emotional breakdowns and general anxiousness. Chapter 9.

***

“Oi. Kiri.”

Another heap of sugar goes into Kirishima’s mug. He stirs a bit, then licks caramel-sweet goodness off the spoon. Perfect. With a content hum, he leans further into the embrace of his favorite armchair.

“Mmyeah?”

Across from him, Bakugou sips his own coffee. Looking all kinds of cozy from his perch by the window, shoes off, U.A.’s uniform narrowed down to just the shirt and pants. Only Iida and Momo have made it down to the common room yet, yawning their way through breakfast with last-minute notes spread out over the kitchen counter.

Their quiet conversation is mere background noise for them. It’s a familiar enough routine that neither duo exchanged more than acknowledging nods before settling into their preferred corners.

Bakugou toes the wood of the windowsill with socked feet, hands calm around his mug. His gaze idles on a group of sparrows outside.

“By this time tomorrow, we’ll be heroes.” Soft-spoken, the words nonetheless sound as solid as ever.

“Provisional ones”, Kirishima reminds him, a mix of excitement and nerves making his leg bounce, the carpet underneath ruffling with the motion. There’s still an exam to pass between then and now. “But still. Licensed and everything.”

“Mh”, Bakugou breathes into his coffee. He sends Kirishima a wry look over its rim. “Nervous?”

Thinking on it for a moment, Kirishima smiles. “Nah, not really. We worked our asses off for it. Like, we totally got this.”

Bakugou’s smirk comes swift and it stays: a dare for the world to do its worst, a promise to come out on top despite it all. Kirishima offers him his fist and Bakugou meets him in the middle, used to the gesture by now. Sparks crackle over rock-hewn skin.

“Damn right we do.”

*

The names flicker on the screen and Kirishima searches.

K, K, Ki, Kiri– There! Kirishima Eijirou.

“Hell yes”, he cheers, the doubts clinging to his heart dropping all the way to his feet. The second he’s got his phone back, he’ll scream-yell a voice message to his moms – finally, finally, Red Riot will exist out there. In reality, not just his wildest dreams.

Automatically, Kirishima jumps to the beginning of the list.

B, Ba, Baku–

Next to him, Bakugou sucks in a breath. That, more than anything, brings his head crashing from the clouds and straight to the ground, to the spot on that list where Bakugou’s name should be but isn’t. Kirishima frowns, his eyes scanning the row starting with B one more time.

“Dude, what…?” No Bakugou Katsuki. “No way.”

One glimpse, that’s all he gets. One glance at Bakugou’s face and that expression Kirishima recognizes from the longest night of his life, that déjà vu of devastation and loss a sucker punch nailing Kirishima right in the gut–

Before he can reach out, it’s gone. Bakugou grits his teeth and juts his chin up, and any trace of it is replaced by anger. Cold, lethal, seeping into squared shoulders and brows drawn deep enough to cast his gaze in shadows.

“Katsu–”

A harsh tch interrupts him, followed by a softer “Congrats, Riot” mumbled in Kirishima’s direction. Bakugou won’t meet his eyes, though, and when Kirishima’s fingers brush Bakugou’s, he crosses his arms instead.

“Thanks”, Kirishima mumbles back, all thoughts of celebrating dead and gone. He doesn’t try to reach out again.

*

1-A spills into the common room as one, smiles and laughter all around. The air previously heavy with anticipation now carries only relief, that clean petrichor taste that follows a downpour at the height of summer.

Despite the stone weight of worry in his stomach, Kirishima laughs along with them. He leans into the lanky arm Sero drapes across his shoulders and returns the fist bump Jirou offers him before Kaminari tackle-hugs the three of them towards the couches.

“Smash tournament! Now!”

“It is our last night off before the new term”, Jirou supplies with a shrug. A thoughtful look is cast towards Bakugou, turning sly as it meets Kaminari’s. “Though, may I propose: Rock Band?”

“Ohhh”, coos Sero, joined by an enthusiastic nod by Kaminari. “Whoo yeah! U.A.’s best fake guitarist, reporting for duty!”

Kirishima loves his friends, he really does. If there’s one thing Bakugou has consistently enjoyed during their hangouts, it’s violently crushing them via the e-drum set he brought from home. That thing shows some serious signs of wear, too, the silicone cover warped or even torn in places.

(The high score list features his name like five times before their resident runner-up – Shouji, surprisingly – even makes an appearance, additional limb advantage and all.)

“I’m in. Wanna duo, Jack?” Jirou gives Kirishima a thumbs-up from where she’s already setting up the microphones. He turns around. “Nitro, you–?”

Bakugou isn’t next to him anymore. Before Kirishima can ask, he hears Mina call out, “Blasty, where are you going?”, and follows the question to Bakugou’s turned back clearly headed for the elevators.

“Room”, Bakugou answers, clipped, rough. The glare he throws over his shoulder might as well be lines of caution tape fluttering in the wind, storm sirens howling in the distance. Keep out. “Have fun playing your shitty game.”

Kirishima sees the hurricane about to hit a second before Mina makes a grab for Bakugou’s wrist, determination shining in black-rimmed eyes. “It’s Rock Band”, she tells him, meeting the snarl on Bakugou’s face with stubborn compassion. “You love Rock Band.”

“What do you know, hah?” Bakugou snaps, tugging away. “Fucking– Get off me!”

Mina’s grip tightens, Bakugou’s hand is raised – familiar, so familiar, that glint of rage in blood-red pupils – and Kirishima is on his feet, pulling Mina behind himself to shield her from an explosion that never comes.

It’s a close call, though. Kirishima feels the heat coming off Bakugou’s palm, the wince he tries to hide when he clenches it to a fist instead.

“This isn’t your fight, Shark Teeth. Back off.”

“Bakugou.”

Firm, resolute. Kirishima’s voice is like volcanic glass: smooth on the surface, jagged around the edges. There’s a warning in there, too, his jaw clenched just as tightly as Bakugou’s. “Not cool, man. Mina’s just trying to help.”

Bakugou huffs at the mere notion of that. “Well, Mina can fuck right off. I don’t need shit from any of you.”

The truth is: Bakugou is different with Kirishima, he’s always been. Even now Kirishima can see him shift his weight, change gears in his mind, the door so firmly shut for others left ajar for him.

Bakugou only listens because it’s Kirishima speaking and he hates it, sometimes. Like his word counts above everyone else’s when it doesn’t, it shouldn’t.

“Look, I get why you’re pissed off but it’s not our fault, either. Alright? There’s no point in acting like this, dude.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrow, that sliver of a chance snuffed out of existence. A vicious sneer takes its place. “Acting like what? Like myself? Give me a break.”

“Guys”, Mina cuts in, sounding meek, uncomfortable. Bakugou doesn’t get to do that, not when he’s proven he’s better than that, time and time again – not when he’s careful with his quirk, when he’s stopped hiding that genuine smile that’s getting less and less rare, when he helps and soothes and pretends not to care and cares so fucking much.

Around them most of the class shuffles along, hovering on the sidelines. Kirishima can feel the looks, the hushed whispers ready to burst into existence, the fidgety sort of concern radiating from Midoriya in waves.

He ignores them all, looking Bakugou dead in the eye when he says: “No, Katsuki, like an asshole. It’s not like you at all.”

Behind him, Mina whispers, “Stop, Kiri, it’s okay.” From the couches come hisses of surprise, a murmured “Woah, dude” that sounds like Kaminari. It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that it hurts. It hurts to see Bakugou flinching like he’s been physically struck. To see emotion spill through the cracks in his armor, cracks Kirishima put there. But Bakugou listens when it’s him, and if there’s one thing he needs to hear, it’s this.

“Like, I get it. I know how it feels, you of all people know that. And extra lessons suck ass, believe me.” Kirishima takes a deep breath, letting go of his anger on the exhale until there’s only resolve, that strength he’s fostered and made his own with Bakugou at his side.

“But lashing out at people won’t fix anything. The stuff holding you back – it’s all you, man, that’s what you gotta work on. You’re the manliest person I know, so you’ll definitely get there, and then you’ll keep going until you’re Number One. There’s not a single doubt in my mind that’s how it’s gonna go. But it’s up to you to make sure it does.”

Bakugou is staring at him, pale-faced and still. He opens his mouth. “You done?”, he asks, his voice ground into something raw, something tired.

“Yeah”, Kirishima tells him, gentle again. “Yeah, I think I am.”

A nod. Bakugou glances past him, for a moment, at the ball of tension behind Kirishima that is Mina. Another nod, more hesitant.

“Blasty, I–”

Without another word, Bakugou leaves, shouldering past Midoriya on his way out. Kirishima watches him go and wonders if doing the right thing always feels so much like regret.

*

I fucked up.

Bundled up in his covers, Kirishima sits on his bed and stares at the wall. The cheerful colors and big exclamation points on his posters are little more than a blur, made obscure by the dark of night settling in around him.

The light switch is just across the room yet impossibly far away. Kirishima’s phone buzzes; the screen comes alive with a notification. It goes ignored.

I fucked up.

Kirishima’s gaze falls to the license in his hands, bland-looking next to the busy camo pattern of his favorite blanket. Red Riot, it says in bold letters under his name, date of birth and affiliation to U.A. – issued today, with the picture they took before they changed into their hero costumes. Himself, grinning with too much teeth, his hair freshly dyed and spiked to the heavens, his uniform done up meticulously.

It feels like a year ago that Bakugou rolled his eyes and fixed his collar, muttering something about ‘looking okay for once’. In turn, Kirishima had nudged and prodded him until he put on his tie, which lasted not one second beyond the flash of the camera.

But–

You done?

The card is small, unassuming, really. Kirishima blinks. One tear, then two pearl over flawless plastic. Three, four, head bowed as they drip, drip, drip down the tip of his nose.

Today wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were supposed to get their licenses, take the night off, sing and laugh and headbang to their audience of pixelated metalheads and forget the world for a while.

It was supposed to be about them, about the dream they shared over coffee this morning. About the future they’re reaching for, together.

Kirishima wants to toss the license to places unknown, wants to tell himself that it means nothing but it does. He waited for this moment longer than he cares to trace back, a long time, definitely. All that hard work, the sweat and blood he shed for it – perhaps it’s only right he adds tears to the mix.

Gods, I fucked up so bad.

He sniffs wetly, sets the card aside. There’s a spot for it in his wallet, he made sure of that as they stepped off the bus. Still, he needs to keep it in sight, like object permanence stops being a thing where one’s hero status is concerned.

Again, buzz buzz, his phone rattles quietly against wood. With a shuddering breath, Kirishima reaches for it, reads Simply Mina and 🦊 Eevee Squad 🦊 and swipes right until his home screen is just Riot’s canine smile again. All it does is remind him of an afternoon spent out in the yard, of a snoring dog and gentle touches to soft fur.

Two taps, and he’s back where he started: Staring at fond, red eyes in the corner and the unanswered messages underneath. Kirishima’s lips start to tremble.

Best Bakubro 💣💥

hey (sent 18:12)

can we talk? (sent 18:12)

i’m sorry (sent 18:30)

i’m so fucking sorry baku idk what i was thinking (sent 18:31)

just. please (sent 18:35)

idk what to do (sent 18:35)

katsuki? (sent 19:01)

The last three are still unread. Kirishima had just calmed himself down from the panicked jolt of blue ticks and grey ticks and Bakugou’s gone when a door had slammed shut hard enough to rattle Kirishima’s desk.

Kirishima wanted to go out there. He wanted to catch up to Bakugou and explain himself and make things right; instead he’d stayed right where he was and listened to his distinct stomp growing more and more faint like the coward he is.

There’s been nothing but silence ever since.

“Stop”, Kirishima whispers, a strangled, pathetic noise amidst the tears sliding down his cheeks. “Just s-stop. Fucking stop.” Tilting his head back, he knocks it against the wall, hoping against all hope that he’ll stop crying, that this shivering, miserable thing in his chest will relent and let him breathe for a bit.

Instead, he clenches his eyes shut and lets out a choked sob. It’s followed by another, another, until Kirishima presses his face into the blanket and gives in.

Hands fisting in loose hair, he curls in on himself, head tucked against his knees and desperately gasping for air. The walls are thick but not that thick – Shouji can probably hear him, if he’s even in, and Kirishima silently begs him to stay away. To be allowed to break in private like he’s done a thousand times before, after every moment he spent frozen in place, every time he didn’t act fast enough or act at all.

Were you scared?

He hadn’t been. For once in his life, Kirishima hadn’t been afraid – he’d been angry, furious even, hopeful and disappointed and worried and he’d fucked up because of it. That moment Bakugou shut up and just… took whatever Kirishima had to say is burned into his brain, aching and tender to the touch. Kirishima can’t stop putting his finger on it, though, like revisiting it will make it sting less, somehow.

It doesn’t.

Time is a fickle concept. Kirishima is aware it passes, he’s aware his blanket is soaked, that his back hurts and his heart hurts and his head, too. He’s back to blankly looking at his wall and seeing nothing, only interrupted by an occasional sniffle, when–

The snap of a lock turning, a door opening and closing, much quieter than before.

A glance to his clock tells him it’s an hour to midnight and way past curfew. The worry he felt earlier rekindles, glows bright enough to overshadow any other emotion swirling within him. It’s not like Bakugou to be up this late. It’s not like him to break rules like this.

It’s not like you at all.

Roughly, Kirishima rubs his arm over his face. Enough crying. Enough hiding away. Bakugou deserves better than public callouts and texts sent in a panic. Kirishima promised himself he’d be better – it’s worth next to nothing if he can’t keep it.

That fact doesn’t prevent his heart from beating half-way up his throat by the time he slips out his door and stands in front of Bakugou’s. His hand shakes as it’s raised to knock; Kirishima wills it to steady and raps his knuckles against wood, mindful of the late hour.

“Bakugou?”

Nothing.

“Listen, I…” Kirishima breathes through the squirming of guilt in his gut. “I messed up, man. I know you’re in there and if you’d rather not see me, that’s fine. But I know I hurt you a-and I want to apologize if… if you’ll let me.”

Wringing his hands, he blinks heavily and wills himself not to tear up again. Bakugou has every right to shut him out; it’s up to Kirishima to do what he should’ve done in the first place and respect his wishes.

It’s a reality he doesn’t have to face, however – the knob turns and the door cracks open the slightest bit. When it doesn’t move beyond that, Kirishima pushes for it to open further, sticking his head through the gap.

“Nitro?”

Silhouetted by his bedside lamp, Bakugou is tossing up his covers to properly burrow inside them. “Get your ass in here already”, he says over his shoulder, a bite to his tone Kirishima recognizes from their early days. “And close the door. It’s fucking late.”

He practically jumps to the task. “Okay, yeah, sorry!” Once the door clicks shut, Kirishima shuffles his feet, wanting to get closer but unsure if he’s allowed. Carefully, he makes his way over and stops, half a step in the circle of light cast around Bakugou’s bed.

“So. Um…” His hand brushes red strands behind his ear. His palms are sweaty. “I–”

“Did you mean it?”

Bakugou doesn’t even sound angry; Kirishima would definitely deserve it if he was. He’s unsure if that no-bullshit edge is any better, though, swallowing heavily. “Yeah. Well, kinda. The– the words were right but…” He clenches his hands to fists, brings his gaze up to look at him.

Kirishima’s eyes widen. The rest of that sentence flees from his mind entirely.

“What…?”

Scrapes, bruises, gauze stuck to both cheeks, bandages wrapped around both arms. Back to the wall, legs loosely crossed in front of him, Bakugou looks like he went a round or five with a superpowered bobcat, dried blood clinging to some of the many scratches on his skin.

Yet his eyes are focused, pinning Kirishima with the same precision with which he handles everything in life. “But?”

“Bakugou! What happened?!”

“Picked a fight.” A sharp sniff. Bakugou shrugs like he couldn’t care less. “‘s none of your business. Answer my question.”

Ouch. Kirishima doesn’t linger on that, he can’t, too busy mentally cataloguing the damage and trying not to drag Bakugou to the infirmary ASAP. Which–

“We gotta– Recovery Girl. She’ll heal you right up.”

Bakugou huffs a laugh, no humor in it whatsoever. “Already went. It’s done. Answer the fucking question, Kirishima.”

It’s incredibly hard to unstick his mind from whatever the hell happened there. Like a wrestling match with his own thoughts, struggling to get them on the wrong set of tracks despite his brain frantically gesturing towards Bakugou.

Kirishima rubs his palms over his face, pats his cheeks none-too-gently for good measure. Focus.

“Right. Yes, I meant what I said. It’s– Mina isn’t me, Baku. She can’t take your anger like I can, okay? They… they were just trying to cheer you up and you were out of line. But–”

Bakugou’s gaze isn’t letting him go, intense like they’re mid-battle and he’s trying to figure out Kirishima’s next move. Guard all the way up. Kirishima drops his hands, wide open.

“Your day was already crappy enough without me putting you on the spot like that. You said you wanted to go and I forced you to stay and deal with even more stuff because I was angry and worried and… Yeah. I went about it all wrong and I’m sorry.”

Those damn tears are lurking at the corners of his eyes, itching and burning but Kirishima fights them off. He nods to the ground.

“I really let you down. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Kirishima waits. For a moment that feels eternal, he stands there with his head bowed and his fingers clinging to the edge of his shirt. He fully expects to be met with silence until he gets the memo and leaves.

Then Bakugou sighs.

“You look like hell, y’know that? Your eyes are all puffy and shit.”

Wincing, Kirishima nods again. “I know.” He peeks up through the gaps in his hair.

Bakugou huffs, exasperated and so much more like himself. “Don’t give me that. I’m still pissed at you.”

There. A chance. All it takes is a leap of faith. “But?”, Kirishima asks quietly.

“But nothing, fucker. I’m pissed, full stop.” A glower that would make a quirked-up Aizawa proud. Bakugou crosses his arms; Kirishima ducks his head. “You’re lucky you’re you or I’d have kicked your ass straight to whichever place stupid potato dogs like you go to when they die.”

Don’t laugh. Kirishima bites his lip. Half a second later, a pillow smacks his shoulder with impressive force.

“Shut up. I got it, okay? I know I’m”, a pause filled with teeth grinding audibly, “difficult, I guess. And an asshole. I know all that.”

The urge to laugh is replaced by a shot of vertigo, like Kirishima missed a step down a flight of stairs. Their eyes meet, and Bakugou glares.

“It’s what you said. Don’t you dare take it back now.”

“But that’s not what I mea–”

“Tough shit, bitch, ‘cause that’s what I got from it. It’s fine, okay? If someone’s gonna call me out on my bullshit it’s gotta be you. It’s just–”

Bakugou drops his hands in his lap, staring at the bandages running up to his elbows. There are blisters on his right palm, visible even in the half-dark.

“Not in front of everyone?”, Kirishima offers in a small voice.

A tense breath. “Yeah. Makes me wanna blow up and lose my shit for real.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that. I told you it’s fucking fine.”

“But–”

“Eijirou.”

Kirishima’s heart squeezes. Bakugou looks so exhausted and it’s all his fault. Still, he mumbles, “Okay”, and he wordlessly swears on everything he holds dear that he’ll listen, next time. That he’ll trust Bakugou to do the right thing and stay in control.

“Okay.” Bakugou’s eyes are on him again, less heavy now. “I don’t wanna talk about the fight, either.”

Kirishima’s hands clench, not tight enough to rip into the fabric but close enough. “At all or…?”

“Not sure yet. Definitely not tonight.”

“Okay”, Kirishima repeats. It’s not forever. He can handle anything if it’s not forever. “Um. Are we cool? I get it if… not. I can leave, too. Whatever you want.”

Unexpectedly, Bakugou groans, almost… amused? “Screw you. I should be milking the fuck outta this but… Yeah, we’re cool.”

Oh. Kirishima can’t help the way his resolve wobbles with how relieved he is, keeping his shaky inhale as stealthy as possible. He fucked up and his best friend doesn’t hate him. They’re gonna be okay.

“Kiri…”

There’s a strange expression on Bakugou’s face, pinched and frustrated-looking. His eyes are soft, though. Concerned. “Stop crying, you big baby. C’mere. And bring my pillow, I actually need it.”

Kirishima keeps it casual. He grabs the pillow and pads over instead of running. He tosses it in Bakugou's lap, earning a grumbled, “Thanks.”

Almost casual. There’s an attempt, at least, chucked right out the window the second Bakugou sort-of-maybe-kind-of indicates the possibility of a hug. Then he’s throwing himself on the bed, the sight of raw skin and gauze-white turning his tackle into a marginally gentler embrace of Bakugou’s shoulders.

Bakugou squeezes back, brutally tight. “Hold back on me again and I’m kicking you out.”

A wheeze of breath turns into hushed laughter. “I’ll do better.” Kirishima tucks his face against Bakugou’s neck and sniffles. “I’ll be good, Nitro, I swear.”

Bakugou knocks their heads together, too gentle to even register as that. His lips against Kirishima’s temple, he mumbles, “You already are, idiot. One dumb mistake won’t change that.”

>>Chapter 9.

[forever-rogue]

Din + 1, 48, & 57 (Jedi!Reader? Or at least force using bounty hunter)

1. "You can't always do everything on your own." & 48. "If we are going to work together than will you have at least more than a one word conversation with me?" "No." & "Let. Her. Go."

Ayyy, I'm a sucker for a force sensitive reader so here we are.

Mandalorian Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

"You're really not going to let me help?" the Mandalorian's voice was a mixture of amused and concerned as he trailed after you. He was normally the quiet, stoic one and it proved to be an interesting turn of events that it was now his turn to be inquisitive. You momentarily ceased what you were doing, just long enough to give him an annoyed glance, "come on, we can work together.”

"Not interested," you stated firmly, deciding to lightly shove him back with a small flick of your hand. In truth, you were interested, you would have loved if the ragtag bounty hunter came alongside you, but you also didn't want to put him in any sort of danger. You'd grown fond of the mysterious man you've been working with for several months, but you had been operating solo for so long, you weren't sure what it was like to have a partner anymore. Those who had once surrounded you, including the one you used to call Master had all been killed when you were just a child.

"That's not fair!" he sounded and exasperated and you had to turn away, hiding your face to make sure he didn't see the little smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth, "you can't just use the force all willy-nilly!"

"You don't seem to mind when he does it," you looked down at the small child standing near the two of you, listening to everything intently. He cooed excitedly when you gave him a smile, waving his little hand at you.

"That's different-"

"Oh?" you turned around and raised an eyebrow at helmeted man, "how so?"

"It just is," he insisted, watching as you clipped your trusted old saber onto your belt, concealing it with the cloak, "you can't always do everything on your own."

You paused for a moment and gave him a curious glance; he'd repeated the last bit of wisdom your master had passed on before succumbing to death. It was an almost eerie moment and you let out a long sigh, "I know. But I also know that the last person who told me that is now dead. And I'm not putting you in danger too. Not you or the Child.”

"I can handle myself," he insisted and you knew he was right. He wasn't a skilled and highly renowned bounty hunter for no reason after all, "you know I can. We've been working together for months."

"I'm aware," you reminded him, staring at your feet for a moment before reaching up and tapping the side of his helmet, "and if I ever do need your help I will let you know. You'll be my first call."

"Y/N," he was getting frustrated with you but was trying to hide it. He understood why you were the way you were, but he also wanted you to let him in. He wasn't too different from you, you'd survived similar circumstances and he'd slowly learned to open back up to people, while you were struggling with that still. It had taken a long time for him to even learn your name, while he'd learned to trust you quickly, something in his gut telling him it was okay to let you in, “let me keep you safe. I care about you too, you know.”

“I know,” you said softly, giving him a soft smile. He always caused a feeling of butterflies in your stomach, no matter how hard you tried to repress them, they were always there, “I know, Din. But I can’t have you coming with me. This is my bounty, not yours. Besides, one of us should stay with the child.”

“Y/N-”

“No.”

“Will you at least listen to reason for once?” he carried on but he knew it was no use; you were as stubborn as he was, and once you made up your mind, you had made it up and there was no going back. Sometimes it led to a lot of arguing, but you never stayed mad for long. The back and forth, the give and take, was all part of your natural flow and it worked well.

“Nope.”

“Please...”

“No.”

“If we are going to work together will you at least more than a one word conversation with me?” he leaned against the metal wall of the ship, his arms crossed over his chest as he tried to reason with you. You grabbed a few blasters and put them into the holster you were wearing, giving yourself a pat down to make sure you had everything.

“No.”

“You’re impossible sometimes, you know that?” while he was being serious, there was a little tilt to the way he addressed you, and you were sure there a little smirk on his face under the helmet. You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a sweet as honey smile.

“Ever since I was young, my job, my training, everything, has required me to protect others. It’s the Jedi way, and although I am a Jedi no more, it’s ingrained in me,” you explained and he nodded, “and you’re supposed to protect the ones you love more than anything else.”

There was a pause as soon as he heard the word love spill from your lips. It wasn’t lost on you either as you stared at him through the helmet for a moment, right where his eyes would be. You only snapped back into attention when you felt a light tugging on the edge of your trousers, and you looked down to find the Child watching you closely. He lifted his arms up and couldn’t help but pick him up, giving him a tight hug before passing him to Din.

“Stay with your father, okay? I’ll be back before you know it,” you said quietly as Din took him from you, giving you a small nod as you turned around to head out. Just before stepping out into the light, you stopped one hand on the door to the ship, “I’ll be back soon, Din. Please don’t worry.”

“Okay,” it was a soft sound and you knew he didn’t really mean it. He would always worry when you were gone, no matter how safe of a situation it was. He watched you go before giving the Child a few small scratches on the head before setting him down in his makeshift bed, “I gotta go for a little bit. You know I have to go after her.”

The Child seemed to make a small noise of agreement before plopping down and watching as the Mandalorian started to gather up his own weapons, making sure everything was strapped to his body, “be good and we’ll both be back soon.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

It should have been an easy capture; everything about it suggested that it would be easy. The target hadn’t been known to be violent, he shouldn’t have had anyone around him, shouldn’t have had a cache of various weapons. But he did, all of it and then some. You had basically walked into a trap, and despite your strong and renewed connection with the force, you hadn’t been able to sense this. It was wrong, all wrong, and you hated to think that Din was right. He’d know immediately once he saw your bruised face; that was if you ever even made it back to him, or saw him again.

You’d held your own for a little while, managing to take down the majority of the guard, but the target himself was something else. He had been stronger and bigger than you, and for some reason he had gotten the jump on you.

“A Jedi bounty hunter,” he smirked as he trailed a finger along your cheek, making a small tutting sound at the cut that was already welling up underneath your eye, “my, my, my, how far from you have fallen from grace. What would your master say if they saw you now?”

“Don’t you dare talk about my master,” you hissed at him, pulling your face out of his grasp, “he was more of a man you could ever wish to be.”

“Couldn’t have been that good,” he grinned at you, “he didn’t even teach you how to defend yourself. But don’t worry sweetheart, it’s just you and me now, and you’re going to make it up to me.”

“I owe you nothing,” you glared at him.

“You’ve killed my men, stolen some valuable information, and destroyed my work space,” he brought his face close to yours, his lips inches from your ears as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to keep him away. You needed to think of a plan, and quickly, if you had any chance of surviving, “you owe me.”

“I-”

“Let. Her. Go,” your eyes snapped open as you the familiar voice reached your ears. You looked up and found the Mandalorian standing in the doorway, a blaster in each hand, pointed directly at the man. You let out a small sigh of relief when you realized that you were safe, that you were going to be okay.

“I don’t think I will,” he said as he stepped away from you and took a few closer to the Mandalorian, “how adorable, you’ve come to rescue your little girlfriend. Now let’s make a deal...”

“Yes, let’s,” Din paused for just a moment, and you thought he was being serious. But before any other words were exchanged, the blasters were fired and the man crumpled to the ground, dead as the guards around him. The sound of the blaster shocked for a moment and you let a shaky breath as you realized what you had witnessed. You’d seen plenty of violence before, but it never made it any easier, it always got to you in one way or another.

Din came over immediately, putting his hands on either side of your face as he examined you to make sure you were okay. He made a small sound of disapproval as he looked at how hurt you were. Untying you was a quick process and you almost fell to the ground of the release. Letting out a shaky breath, you rubbed your raw wrists and gave him a thankful nod.

“I guess you were right,” you said quietly as you grabbed your saber and weapons that had been taken from you, “I guess I did need help after all. I just...couldn’t sense this. I dunno what happened...I just...”

“It’s okay,” he reassured you, putting his hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze, “sometimes we all need help.”

“I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up,” you gave him a small smile, “I guess that would have been the end of me.”

“You would have found a way out,” he reassured you softly, “the force is strong with you.”

“I dunno about that anymore,” you frowned, wondering why it had failed you, or your own judgment had just been so clouded that you missed all the signs, “it was all due to you. Thank you.”

“You know what they say,” he said as he started to walk out, holding his hand out to you, beckoning for you to come along, “you always protect the ones you love the most.”

“Yes,” you said quietly as you followed after him, gently taking his hand in yours, “I suppose they do.”

[talltales]

                                    —HEY NOW, HEY NOW, DON'T DREAM IT'S OVER                                     HEY NOW, HEY NOW, WHEN THE WORLD COMES IN                                     THEY COME, THEY COME, TO BUILD A WALL BETWEEN US                                     WE KNOW THEY WON'T WIN                                                            anonymous request!!

NOTICE: violence (murder, mentions of cannibalism), heavy sexual content

               “i just painted my nails.”

blankly, she flicks away the blood trickling down her hand and turns it over to inspect the chipped pink polish peeling off with it. her trigger finger relaxes minutely, but her gun remains aimed at the deathly still men at her feet, staring sightlessly into the cloudless, red sky.

“i didn’t think you were that kind of girl.” the click of the clip being slatted into his own weapon accompanies his droll retort. she glances over her shoulder to find yugyeom leaning against the hood of their car, arms crossed loosely across his chest; dark eyes fixed upon the flow of blood across hot concrete.

before it reaches the tip of her shoes, she sidesteps and moves to rifle through the belongings peeking from their pockets. her gun is slipped into the old leather holster at her hip before she pulls a wallet from the closest man, “i was always that kind of girl. it isn’t my fault you never paid attention.”

she spares her companion a look and then turns back to the worn billfold, tossing the plethora of id cards contained into the summer wind, “looks like he was collecting trophies from his kills.”

“how barbaric.” yugyeom hums, impassive. his nose crinkles, however—offended by the emerging malodor of decay, “they reek. are you ready to go?”

“just a minute.”

the few bills contained within are deposited into her back pocket. discarded identification cards bearing the faces of strangers skitter across the road as she makes work of the other male’s wallet and, for good measure, plucks his half-empty carton of cigarettes from his coat pocket.

“got yours?” he slides off the hood of their old black mustang, slapping a palm against the hot metal before opening the driver side door, “because we need to start making some distance if they’ve got friends.”

“you’re a broken record, you know?”

“i’ll stop repeating myself when you start listening.”

the cool flow of a/c when she gets in is a welcome sensation. there are, after all, few luxuries left in a world that has gone to hell and dragged every survivor with it.

her thumb hovers over the radio dial out of habit, turning it on to catch nothing but muted static.

the radio broadcast had stopped four months ago.

where an endless stream of music and advertisements had once been, there was only white noise; broken only by the occasional snare laid by opportunistic hunters. assuming that there was prey left. at least the ones who would believe the theatric cries for help, transmitting on repeat in the early morning hours.

without the loose guide of societal standards, humanity turned on itself. cannibalized the weak. she hits the off button and releases a heavy breath; sinks into her seat as yugyeom starts the engine. what an ugly place to be—

to be left behind in.

“what is it?” his attention is on the road, intent as he navigates smoothly past the still-warm bodies and the last remnants of their victims, innocent things blowing away in the desert wind, “you’re thinking too much.“

“i know. i’m just wondering how many of those fuckers can possibly be hiding out here. how many people they’ve killed, and for what?” her teeth sink into her lower lip, biting down until the dull ache draws her mind back—to the scent of leather and gunpowder and the droll, knowing look yugyeom gives her, “for useless pieces of plastic? money that can only be spent in camps where they’ll be shot on sight?”

one instinct had survived the dissolution of the world, after all. people knew a wanted man when they saw one.

“you know why.” he hums, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, “i shouldn’t have to remind you.”

“humor me.”

the conversation is an old one, repeated for the sake of soothing what remains of her conscience. stubborn as it is, it comes to life in moments like these; when the adrenaline fades away and she is left with blood caked under her nails and the smell of copper clinging to her skin.

“they kill for the thrill of it.” for her sake, yugyeom answers. the words flow easily, as if he’sreciting a memorized poem; an old story told a time too many. “they enjoy it.”

“i enjoy it.” she confesses, not for the first time. she stretches as the seat allows, arching her back as her fingertips brush the roof; the telltale click of her spine realigning itself brings a fleeting sense of relief. she speaks to the spotted, hazy glass of the sunroof, “i enjoy hunting them and putting them down.”

the blood-red sky is cloudless; speckled only with the brightest starlight breaking through the atmosphere.

“so do i,” he says, and the matter is settled.

again.

—

“so wound up,” she breathes, grazing the curve of his jaw with slow, wet kisses; deft fingers threading through his hair, “i wanted to help,” rolling her hips in a hard grind, she almost chuckles at the way he twitches inside her; the way every muscle in his body seems to tense simultaneously as she darts her tongue out to taste the sweat beading above his collarbone, “but i guess i’m not—should i stop?”

her head spins, body seared by the window beneath her palm and the pressure of the steering wheel digging into the dip of her spine. but it is the ebb and flow of his rhythm that renders her breathless; makes her feel like she’s suffocating the most exquisite way.

she muffles her cries against his throat and centers her attention on the wild skipping of his pulse under her tongue.

yugyeom’s jaw tightens and the next sound that escapes is half-protest, half-groan. she feels the weight of him, pressing into her hips from contrasting directions; his thumbs scoring marks against her skin—his hips canting up to meet hers, languid and deep.

she catches his words after a delayed moment in which her mind stutters to a stop when he brushes a spot inside her that makes her see stars.

“don’t you fucking dare.” it’s quiet, so very quiet, but something in her relishes at the loss of his composure, the rare curse emerging in a growl that tightens the coil inside her. in pursuit of more, she forces herself to stop with him buried as deep as their bodies allow; clenches around him until she can see something in him snap.

it makes it all that much sweeter when he comes apart.

he is, in these moments, the only beautiful sight left in this wretched world.

—

she wears his bruises like trophies, sometimes, lounging in the backseat with her legs folded beneath her and a brush running through her hair.

he watches through the rear-view mirror, as he always does, when she shifts—clad only in a pair of practical briefs and bra. the impression of his hands frame her hips and she takes pleasure in watching his eyes wander before he realizes what he’s doing. because kim yugyeom is always composed, always in control.

except when he isn’t.

and their dalliances are less about attraction than they are about release. she swears on that.

there is a softness to his touch when he isn’t paying attention—in the midnight hours, when their only light is the blue-tinge of headlights cutting through the dark; in the moments before he cuts the engine and his hand slides from the gear-shift to grip hers. “we’re keeping this quick,” he mutters, in a way that is more order than she cares for.

she’s out of the car before he can say anything else, “if they don’t drag it out.”

her sidearm is grasped firmly with her finger hovering over the trigger, her only guide the faint flickering of a campfire in the distance—

the stench of unwashed bodies and smoke.

every step is muffled beneath the howling of the wind and the hush of sand swirling over the earth. hunting is a natural instinct, but stealth is an acquired skill. it is her contribution in their little arrangement, because as graceful as yugyeom is he is impossible to miss.

he follows behind her, well-worn boots crushing the few sprigs of grass that have survived the onslaught of an unforgiving sun. even at this hour, the edge of it lingers on the horizon; an angry crimson-gold.

“you should’ve heard her scream,” comes the distant echoes of laughter from the makeshift camp ahead, beyond the shadow cast by the tents circling the site. they are lit from within by the fire on the other side, revealing silhouettes of figures perched upon folding chairs and the prone half-body beside the fire, “i’d have kept her alive just to hear it again, but a man’s gotta have his dinner.”

it’s an old sight, but it turns her stomach just the same.

her finger itches over the trigger, and she doesn’t have to look back to feel the intent radiating from the man behind her.

two, she holds up the signal and raises her gun while sidestepping into the gap beneath the twin tents. it takes effort to ignore the scavenged woman lying in the dirt; the silver and gold ring on her left hand gleaming in the firelight. someone’s wife.

instead she steels her voice and, assured that yugyeom has his gun trained on the other man, disengages the safety. “on the ground,” it comes out with a hiss; air flowing between teeth gritted so hard she feels it in her jaw.

the sight of the duo scrambling to find her in the darkness is only mildly satisfying. no, the true pleasure only comes when yugyeom fires a warning shot that grazes his target’s cheek, and abject fear takes hold.

“who’s there?” her target. his face is buried in the dirt; amorphous cooked meat beside his head. it takes effort to hold her fire until her boot slams into his spine and the barrel of her gun finds its way into his hair; digs into his scalp.

“you don’t need to concern yourself with that. i’ve got a question for you.”

on the other side of the fire, yugyeom does much the same—nose wrinkling as the man beneath him squirms under his knee; whines incoherently about the gash in his cheek.

“what do you want?”

“you got any buddies out here?” she asks, watching his eyes flicker about wildly, as if searching for an escape. or reinforcements, as the case may be. she secretly hopes for the latter.

“it’s just us,” the man whispers, and she pulls the trigger.

an answering shot rings through the night, and she looks up to see yugyeom wiping blood from his forehead before he walks to the parked pickup truck nearby. he preforms a perfunctory search, pulling a marked map from the glove compartment and a few bills that disappear into the pockets of his jeans.

“quick enough for you?” she questions before she can stop herself, trailing after him with a contemplative look at the container sitting next to the rear tire.

he nods, placid as ever, though she can see the spark of something in his eyes—the promise of another night spent chasing a different sort of satisfaction.

this is, after all, empty work on the best of days.

“the map—“

“for later. to find any stragglers.” she watches as he glances back at the campsite; stares at the blood splattered everywhere. it’s the clenching of his jaw that makes her act upon the persistent urge to act—to reach for the gas container and unscrew the cap.

without a word, she tips it and watches the crystalline liquid soak the ground at her feet. she doesn’t stop until the canister is empty and the site is soaked in the smell of gasoline; each body drenched with it.

he doesn’t stop her.

the only move he makes is toward her, to stand at her side as she fishes a matchbook from her back pocket and strikes it; the flame dances at her fingertip for a moment before she drops it—watches the campfire swell within minutes to a blaze that lights the night sky in shades of gold.

the heat is searing—makes her feel as if she’s burning alive, but for the first time she feels satisfaction with this ugly thing they do.

purification by fire.

only the slide of his fingertips over the back of her hand draws her back; the hesitant way that he laces their fingers together and tugs her back toward the car waiting in the distance. she squeezes, and feels the heaviness in her chest lighten when he returns the gesture.

it has practical purpose; less about affection than it is about comfort.

she swears on that.

“where to next?” for lack of anything better to say, she inquires into the open air, taking her first breath of fresh air.

yugyeom seems to hesitate, and she watches from the corner of her eye as he turns the question over in his mind before he speaks. always thoughtful, always choosing his words carefully.

“i think we’re overdue for a trip home.”