#( also i was like o man they should move out of the street

[room4creation]

went out last night, this boy on committee is WEALTHY so he bought loads of drinks all night so rn i want to die, talked to literally the most attractive man ive ever seen in my uni city on the street but didnt get any details from him so i was and am sad abt it LOL, got moved to by a man SHORTER than me in the club LOL , this guy i love as a friend strictly was doing way too much but i was like whatever bc it was just stewpid ... have 3 hrs of tutoring this morning and im 2 down, 1 to go and i have never felt so horrid in my life

[7ndipity]

Dating Jungkook headcanons

Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: some swearing, a lil suggestive, I think that's it

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this, I've never written a list like this before so it's a little scattered, sorry. Anyway I'm very soft for this man now, goodbye.

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Dating Jungkook is, for lack of a better word, messy. But like in all the best ways.

Late night hangouts when y'all can't sleep and you just end up at the local convenience store, eating snacks or whatever and talking until you notice the sun coming up.

I know I wrote a lil blurb abt it already, but karaoke dates are a regular occurrence. Doesn't matter if you can sing or not, y'all are just having a good time seeing who can hit the highest note(it's him, sorry)

He's one of those people whose friends probably tease cause he says "my s/o is my best friend". But he actually means it, you are his best friend.(I really feel like he would fall for a friend, but that's a discussion for a ot7 reaction I'm working on for next week👀)

Acts really cocky sometimes, but will fold like a house of cards(ha) into the softest boi at the slightest provocation from you.

He's fucking whipped for you, and he knows it.

Was so nervous to kiss you the first time that he legit backed out like three times before it finally happened.

Probably has some kind of nickname for you like "my light" or "my life."

But on the other hand, y'all also tease each other relentlessly, it's like a second love language with him.

Like he will sit there while you're trying to read or smth and poke your cheeks until he gets a reaction out of you.

Will make height jokes, even if you're only like 1in shorter than him.

"Tiny baby." He coos while patting your head. "I'm gonna climb up there and kill you." You warn. "So tiny, so precious."

But if he catches anyone else giving you a hard time about something, God help them.

Possessive(*cough perilla leaf debate)

Gives you his sweatshirts to wear because you look cute in them, but also loves that it's a subtle sign to anybody else that you're his.

This goes both ways though, he loves when you call him yours.

The first time you called him "your boyfriend", he legit short-circuited for a second.

Would probably have matching, macrame type couple bracelets that y'all made together for your second or third month anniversary.

Protective AF

Does that thing where he makes sure you walk on the inner half of the sidewalk when are you're out together, so you're protected from the street?

Not big on Pda exactly, but usually has an arm around you or is holding your hand. He doesn't even realize he's doing it sometimes, it's just kinda become a habit to have you close as much as possible.

He gets so little time with you as it is, so he just wants to make every second count.

When it's just the two of you though, he becomes a fucking koala and will NOT let you go.

Clings to you like his life depends on it.

Begs you to stay over all the time, swears that he can't sleep well unless you're next to him.

At this point, you might as well move in, half of your shit's at his place already anyway.

Looks at you like you're a literal dream.

Like some mornings when neither of you are really awake yet, you look over and he's just staring at you over your coffee mug like🥺

Loves to make you flustered tho

Like, if he notices you have a thing for his arms, he's gonna take every chance he can to roll his sleeves up in front of you just to see your face go red.

Randomly walks up to and gives you these deep, intense kisses and then? just fucking walks away as if nothing happened? Like, nuh-uh, get your ass back here and finish what you started sir!

Talks about your future together with such casual certainty. Like "when we get married, we should get a house like that".

Refers to Bam as your child.

Idk where I'm going with this or how to end it, so I'm just gonna stop here, but yeah. I just think he's neat lol.

[tulipsforvin]

Hi ! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ I would like to react to the moriarty boys reacting to their s/o messing with them and doing the "you know other woman ?!"

I’m sure you’re gonna do great, I love your work !

✧ thank you for requesting and for your kind words !! also, really, really sorry for the incredibly late response 🥲

✧ albert james moriarty

“honey?” he calls out to you. he's holding up a dark blue suit infront of him in his right hand and a black one in his other hand. “which one do you think would be appropriate for tonight?”

he'd told you yesterday that he'd been invited by the queen for some sort of function, which is why he had been asking for your advice on what to wear.

“hmm..” you ponder. “what kind of party is it and who is going to be there?”

“well, it's supposed to be a banquet held by the queen—so probably noblemen and noblewomen.”

“do you know them?”

“well, i'm acquainted with the men and i've held conversations with some of the women before.”

“hold on a second..” you pause. “so what you're staying is that.. you know other women than me?”

he freezes. “..honey?” he's practically sweatdropping in an instant. has he made you upset somehow?

why? he thinks to himself, staring at you in shunned silence. for being aware of the existence of other women on this planet? would blinding himself do the trick? perhaps he and you should move to a cave instead, perhaps—

you can practically see the coils turning in his head, the way his adam's apple bobs when he gulps, the sweat forming on his brow and you can't help but burst out laughing.

“a little overdramatic, aren't you?” you giggle and he looks at you like you've just told him the sky is below.

“what..?” he raises an eyebrow, confused. “i'm not sure i follow, however, if i've angered you then-”

“i was joking, al.” you grin and he exhales heavily in relief, hand on his chest. but he manages to calm down, even tease you back a little. “you've already taken my heart and now you want to take my life as well? quite selfish, don't you think, my dear?”

✧ william james moriarty

“i still think you should rest..” you huff.

although he only just recently recovered from a fever, he'd resumed with his duties. “rest assured, darling, i'm sure grading a few test papers won't kill me.'” william tells you, a subtle smile on his lips.

the man lifts his head up from the desk ever so slightly, watching your lips form into the smallest of pouts. amused, and quite fond of how endearing you look—he leans back in his chair, chuckling softly.

“if you're that worried, i'll inform you that i already have someone from the university helping me.”

“really? then—” you exhale. “wait, she?”

“mm?” he tilts his head. “yes. she.”

“wait—” your eyebrows furrow and your eyes narrow into a glare. “you know other women?”

“pardon?” william blinks in surprise. the calmness that he always exerts seems to crackle the tiniest bit as confusion surges within him. “are you.. jealous?”

“hah?” hands crossed, a single eyebrow raised.

the blond's eyebrows shoot up momentarily before relaxing. he's far too intelligent to not catch up to the little prank you're playing on him, far too observant not to notice the little grin you're trying to hide.

he laughs, eyes creasing. “very funny, love.” he says sarcastically. “but you have absolutely nothing to worry about..”

william takes your hand in his, pressing soft lips atop your knuckles. “for my attention, affection and everything of me are reserved, solely for you.”

✧ louis james moriarty

it is afternoon and the two of you are strolling in the streets of durham, grocery shopping. your fingertips brush as you both walk by side by side. louis suggests going to the bakery and buying some pastries since one of the missions that his elder brother planned had become a complete success.

as the two of you enter the bakery and look over the cake and pastry counter, deciding what to buy—

“louis!” a woman chirps, eyes glittering. she's hovering right behind louis, looking over his shoulder. “good to see you again. what are you buying?”

“oh.” louis turns, nods his head. “it's good to see you, too. we were just deciding on what pastries to buy.”

“really?” she asks. then, points to a few pastries. “you should buy these, they're really good.” and suddenly, they've engaged in deep conversation about dairy while you watch them interact in utter silence.

something about this irks you, even if it's by the slightest so you decide to mess around with him.

once she's gone, you begin quietly. “i didn't know you knew other women than me.” your lips look like they've inflated with how much you're sticking them out in feigned upsetness, and that startles louis.

“is that... an issue to you?” he questions, genuinely curious. he's careful with his words—amidst his surprise—because he notices your demeanor turning gloomy. “she is just someone i happen to coincidentally meet once in a while i do some shopping. nothing more, nothing else.”

he's sincere in his words, his eyebrows furrowed in genuine worry and you begin to feel a little guilty.

you shrug. “it's okay, you don't need to explain yourself to me.” you tell him. “because i'm not really upset or anything, i was just joking.”

and then you give him a grin and you watch his tense shoulders visibly relax. “i.. see. then—”

“but we're not going to get the pastries she suggested.” you tell him bluntly and he blinks in surprise.

“let's choose something else together, louis.” your words sound joyous and so does your voice but something about your smile makes him feel a little chill down his spine.

perhaps you were a little jealous, after all?

[bedsyandco]

𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓

✰ PAIRING — fem!reader x quinn hughes

✰ SUMMARY — in which Quinn returns home to Michigan for christmas and runs into his old girlfriend! this takes place christmas ‘23!!

✰ CONTENT — nothing I can think of? potential spelling mistakes bc no matter how much I check I still find them days later

✰ WC — 2.54K

✰ NOTE — inspired by phoebe bridgers’ scott street!! as always I love writing Quinny and I hope you enjoy it!! I don’t like this but … here we are. please do tell me what you thought about it…I’m always curious what you guys think!!

Michagan has always been special. No matter where life took you, returning to Michigan and visiting the city you grew up in, always felt like coming home. Even three years after graduating from university and moving away, nothing compared to the feeling of driving the streets where you had your first fall and scraped your knee open, the streets where you learned to drive for the first time, the park where you had your first kiss. Michigan will always be special and it will always be home but coming back always leaves you with the biggest ache in your chest.

There’s a reason you haven’t been back to Ann Arbor since you graduated. This place held too many memories. Too many “what ifs” or “what could’ve beens” It was like one big memory box, every corner you turned reminded you of something, someone. And while usually you weren’t opposed to taking a stroll down memory lane and being reminiscent about past years, somehow it always led to one year, one summer, one moment, one person. Quinn Hughes.

You met him your freshman year at Michigan, both of you in the same class. You were late to class the first day, uncharacteristic of you and a result of a missed alarm that morning, and you got stuck sitting in the only open seat left, the one next to Quinn. You’re sure it would have been sat in earlier if it wasn’t for the bag he put on it. You still get the urge to laugh when you remember the expression on his face when you approached that very seat. As if he was actually considering having you sit on the floor just so he didn’t have to share his space. Knowing everything you do now, you had no doubt that he had a mental image of Ellen scolding him for his bad manners and that’s the only reason he scrambled to accommodate you.

Somehow as luck would have it you were partnered up for a big project and spent a lot of time together. And Quinn Hughes went from a reluctant seat partner to your closest friend, to the man who you were hopelessly in love with and was lucky enough to call your own. The next two years you had been glued to his side and wherever he went, everyone knew you weren’t far behind.

Perhaps that’s why everyone had a shock when you didn’t follow him to Vancouver when he left after two years. You had many nights that summer where you had debated it, the decision to move to a new country for a guy you had been dating for less than two years. The fact that you even considered it at all should have already been an indication of how much you loved him. But when he did eventually ask if you’d do it, you knew that you couldn’t and turned him down. You had dreams and goals and plans of your own and none of those consisted of moving to Vancouver.

The idea of moving to a new country, in the middle of your degree, where you didn’t know anything or anyone didn’t particularly sound like a joyful experience, no matter how much you loved Quinn. But you also didn’t expect the two years after Quinn left to be as hard as they were. Somehow you had gotten so wrapped up in your relationship that every aspect of your life revolved around him. Where you hung out, who you were friends with, what routes you drive to school. You felt alone when he left, you felt isolated, you felt misunderstood. Because the only way you fit into that life you had built for yourself was if Quinn was next to you, and he wasn’t anymore.

Quinn made it big and moved on to bigger and better things and you were just the girl he left behind that was stupid enough to turn him down when he begged you to go with him. And so the last two years of what was supposed to be the best years of your life turned into one big pity party thrown by everyone you met. People who once envied you for getting to be with him, now pitied you for losing out on him.

You’d only been with him two years and yet he destroyed the memories of the place you called home for the 18 years prior to that. And it wasn’t those last two years and the pitying looks that ruined Michigan for you, it was the fact that they were right. The fact that you still thought about him and those two years you got to have him. The fact that you’ve compared every guy you’ve met and been with to him and none of them have ever measured up. The fact that staying in Michigan only resulted in awkward social situations, a piece of paper stating your degree that you could’ve gotten at any institute, and regrets. Lots of regrets. The fact that every time you come to Michigan, it’s all that you can think about. It haunts you.

And because you like to torture yourself, this year on your annual visit home, you somehow ended up at his favourite cafe. You had spent more time here than anywhere else when you were dating. It was the place you had your first study session, your first date, your first “I love you”, and also your last goodbye.

As fate would have it your first time seeing him since you guys broke up would also be at this café, because as you entered the relatively empty room, it’s as if your whole body could sense him, your eyes shooting to where he was sitting in the corner of the room, a coffee and a bagel in front of him, folding the napkin in front of him as many times as he could until is was small enough to push in between the salt and pepper that was on the table.

You always wondered what it would be like to see him again. What your response would be to those fight, flight or freeze instincts. You briefly considered it…fleeing. But as soon as you laid your eyes on him, you couldn’t do anything but stare. Observe. Admire. You always knew Quinn was going to be handsome once he matured a little bit. Got out of the teen-early adult phase. And while you had seen him on social media occasionally, seeing him over a screen didn’t do him any justice. Nor did it have the same effect on you it’s currently having. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest and walk over to Quinn. As if it recognized that it was the same guy that cherished, loved and swore to protect it all those years ago.

When his gaze shoots up to meet yours, that pounding in your chest ceases completely, leaving you to put your palm over your heart, just to ensure that it was still beating, and to soothe the ache that seeing those green eyes unexpectedly caused. The ache only worsens when his lips tip up into a friendly, familiar smile. His head tilting slightly as he sits back, as if he was beckoning you over and before you had even registered what was happening, your feet began moving in his direction.

“Hey,” you say softly when you reach his table and his lips quirk, obviously amused that after all this time that’s how you decide to greet him.

“Hey. Sit please,” Quinn says, gesturing to the chair across from him and you take a seat

“Didn’t expect to see you here. What are the odds…” you say. It was a few days before Christmas, and you knew that the Canucks had a few days off before then so maybe you shouldn’t be as surprised that Quinn decided to come home early for a few days. You paid a little too much attention to the Canadian team than you would like to admit.

“Yeah, it’s an unexpected surprise for sure. A good one though. I came home for Christmas for a few days, decided to stop by here. I haven’t been here in a while,” Quinn says and you nod.

“Well how are you? How are things? Hockey? The family?” you ask, rambling a bit and Quinn chuckles fondly, he knew it was a nervous habit of yours.

“I’m good. Really good. Hockey is good. The team’s heading in the right direction, better than last season that’s for sure. The family is good. Busier than ever but all happy and healthy,” Quinn replies

“That’s good. Yeah I can imagine. Jack’s breaking records left and right and it’s Lukey’s rookie season. And you’re captain now. Big things happening in the Hughes family,” you say and Quinn nods. If he’s surprised that you know that much about him and his brother’s careers he doesn’t let it show. You briefly wonder if he kept tabs on you too. Wondered what you were doing with your life. Career. Dating.

You then come to the conclusion that he’d probably have a harder time trying to figure out details of your life since it isn’t broadcasted like his are. You were snapped out of your thoughts when the server asks you your order and your cheeks tint a little when you realise you walked through the door and straight over to Quinn without even placing an order. To the server it probably looked like you were meeting him for lunch, so some of the embarrassment fades a little and after you place your order, you turn your attention back to Quinn.

“Congratulations on being named captain by the way. It’s a huge achievement Quinn, and I don’t think it’s any surprise that Vancouver is having the year they’re having after naming you captain,” you say and his cheeks redden slightly, fingers tightening against the coffee cup.

“Thank you. I mean there’s a lot of things going into it. The coaching change, the new additions to the team, new playing structures, I don’t think it’s me necessarily…” Quinn says, smiling sheepishly when he sees the expression on your face. He was never good at taking compliments.

“What about you? I heard you opened your own marketing agency? That’s huge, congratulations.” Quinn says and you can’t keep the smile from spreading across your face

“Thank you. And you heard? From who?” you ask teasingly

“Your mom and my mom still talk. She always asks about you, and reports back to me. I still talk to your brother too so…” Quinn trails off and you gape at him

“You still talk to my brother?” you ask incredulously

“Yeah, not often but we catch up every now and then,” he says and you don’t know if you find it sweet that he still kept in contact with your little brother who looked up to him so much or if you felt a little bitter that he could keep in touch with your brother but not you. If only you knew that most of their conversations were about you anyway.

“What about Josh? Brady? You keep in contact with them right…how are they?” you ask and Quinn smiles. Josh was at Michigan with both of you and you and him still followed each other on social media. You guys were friends, you just understandably drifted a little when you and Quinn broke up. You met Brady one summer at the lake house and you had instantly taken a liking to him.

“Josh is good. See him all the time when I come home in the summer. Brady got married. That’s still so weird to say,” Quinn says with a shake of his head and you laugh.

“I saw! Who would’ve thought he’d be the first one to get married. He looks really happy though. Good for him,” you say and both you and Quinn go quiet for a moment after that. There was a time everyone had thought the two of you would be the first ones to get married. You wonder if Quinn’s mind wandered to the same place yours did. To those 2AM conversations you had about your future, what type of house you want, a dog, how many kids. Your relationship with Quinn had always progressed fast, and you had no doubt that if you did follow him to Vancouver, you would have ended up engaged a summer or two after, and probably got married by now. Your heart stings thinking about it.

Thinking about how if you made one or two choices differently you could’ve been married to the man sitting across from you. You could have kissed his bruises after a game, nursed his injuries instead of checking for updates on when he was set to return because you were worried and too scared to reach out and ask him how he was doing. You could have been there to celebrate his milestones with him instead of slyly liking the posts on social media and hoping he would see it and know how proud you were of him. You could have had a lot of things…in another life. If you had done things differently.

Your thoughts get interrupted by the server placing your cup of coffee on the table and you take that as an opportunity to escape. There was no use in sitting here and torturing yourself by daydreaming about all the things you could’ve done differently. You couldn’t change them. You just had to move on and live with them.

“I should get going. This was a pit stop on the way to meeting a friend, and I’m running a bit late. It was nice seeing you, Quinn. Don’t be a stranger,” you say, standing up and grabbing your coffee, knowing this was likely the last time you were going to see him in who knows how long? Another five years? Maybe forever…

“Yeah, you too. Happy holidays and tell your parents I say hi,” Quinn says and you nod, grabbing your cup and practically sprinting out of the café

When you get to your car, you take a moment to collect yourself, clenching the steering wheel tight and taking a shaky breath. You hesitate for a moment before switching on the car and driving away from the cafe. Away from him. And the more distance gets put between you and him, the more you wonder about the next time you return to Michigan. And the time after that. You wonder if you’ll always have a heavy heart when coming home. If you’ll always have a hole in your heart that Quinn used to occupy. If you’ll always think about all the things you wish you could go back and change. Things you wish you could do differently.

And you wonder if this exchange will be the little cherry on top of the “regretting my life choices” cake. If you’ll come back next Christmas and think about how you just had a chance to fix all the mistakes you made. Had a chance to reconnect with the one you let slip away. Had a chance to rectify all those regrets that always plague your mind and you just…didn't.

[bowieandqueen11]

Small Spoon / Joel Miller Imagine

Request: sis i am a simple woman

i saw small spoon joel and now i need a fanfic

GIRL I got you I got you @aninnai​

Also sorry in advance I mixed a bit of what happens in the game with what happens in the show for fun lmao​

If you enjoy, please comment and let me know! It really helps so much :)

Warning: strong language, mentions of explosions and injuries/blood, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of guns and a little nsfw!

(I do not own the Last of Us or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @lousolversons.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Like the Boston quarantine zone, the apartment was draped in darkness by the time you slammed the door shut.

It had been a disappointing day all round: first Robert steals your guns and pills and decides for extra fun to jump you on your way back home, then queen Firefly herself decides that during your excursion through the other side of town’s checkpoint is the perfect time to bomb the place. You spent half the time trudging back along the side streets picking shrapnel out of your bleeding shoulder, and the other half waving off some straggler friends who were concerned about the new bust over your lip.

‘Robert. It was that goddamn Robert again’, you’d say and wave them all off back to their card games or their street sweeping duties. A few raised eyebrows or wolf whistles as they turned, but everyone knew that with Joel and you still together, it wasn’t you they should be worried about. It should be the fury in Joel’s eyes as soon as he found out a hair on your head had been harmed; it was the warpath, the ravage, the raging heart flinging and panging against the bars of its cage that would bring the whole state to its knees with its laceration.

The docks could wait till tomorrow. To be honest, at the moment, you were that tired you couldn’t really care less about your new lot of lost cargo. All you wanted to do right now was to kick off your muddy boots, crawl yourself into bed, and splat your face straight into the warm, broad expanse of the man that would be waiting there to lie beside you.

Speaking of, Joel had promised he would try and wait up for your return. By the way you shouldered your splintered apartment door, pushing with all your force until the creaking hinges finally gave in and swung open to the familiar musty smell of your shared room, you could already tell he hadn’t managed it. Instead of a pistol to your face in the case of you being a stranger, or one of Robert’s men, or even some half-hearted grumbles of salutations from the man who should have been hunched over the table trying to fix the new dent in his pistol, you were greeted with slain silence.

As you kick the stack of training manuals by the kitchen counter out of the way, the train of events before your arrival back home became even more crystal clear. By the half-thrown chipped tumbler and the fractured looking pill bottle left abandoned on the dining table, it wouldn’t even take FEDRA’s soldiers two guesses to find out how well his day had gone too.

You tiptoe around the side of the bed and squint, barely able to make out the gentle rise and fall of the sleeping man’s chest through the broken slants of the shades. Bless his heart, even in his sleep the crinkles in his forehead are as deep as the currents of the Allegheny River. He must be having a nightmare, from the way his mouth keeps fumbling and his fist squeezing into the frayed edge of his pillow. Even the vapours of moonlight that slanted in through the cragged skyline, the sharp pelts of spotlights that skim from time to time through your bedroom window like phantom shadows couldn’t soften the man’s haggard face. 

With a sigh, you press the back of your hand fondly over the scruff of his cheek, trying not to wake him as you lean down to press a quick kiss against the creases on his forehead. No amount of light seemed to be able to crack through this man’s walls; no peace, little hope, and even less optimism, and still his fingers move out across the bed to try and reach yours as if on some invisible tide.

The gesture is small, but coming from Joel Miller it meant everything. It isn’t much, but you were the first person in twenty goddamn years he was willing to offer the remains of himself, his heart up to. So far, you hadn’t let him down; if you did, the both of you knew that he would regress even back further into himself, warping back into the shadow of a man he had been all those years ago when Tommy first left. When he left behind nothing but repressed rage and grief and a loathing so inflamed it could have scared a clicker stiff. At himself, at his brother, at the world - you could never tell. But you understood one thing for sure: Joel Miller wouldn’t be able to survive another loss. It would destroy him, change him too far beyond recognition that even he couldn’t come back from it.

You could tell from his dreams, that in the end, that’s what he thinks he deserves. And yet he always still reaches out, in one way or the other. ‘That’, you think as you let your hand fall from his face and flop it back down towards your lap ‘is the part of him that Sarah managed to get. That sweetness is just begging to be let out.’

You smile as you stand up and stretch, taking in a needed deep breath after the day you’d had. The same day you’d had for the last ten years, over and over again. And yet it was worth it, as you paced over the creaking floorboards and headed over to your side of the mattress, if it always ended like this: with comfort, stability, and a beating heart beside you.

‘Scootch.’

Only an incomprehensible murmur and two barely blubbering lips were your sign that Joel had even recognised what you were saying, but after a groan he obliged and shuffled his body over to the right. It left you ample of opportunity to slide in stealthily behind him, Joel already lifting his arm up in anticipation for the feel of your fingers over the side of his jean shirt.

For his sake, you pretend that neither of you notice the tremble that rushes like shooting spores straight down the muscles of his body. Instead, you relish in just languidly letting your fingers float like fireflies over the side of his hip; you spread them out, dancing through the coarse light just before you reach the bone. You scratch against the material, letting it ride up until your fingernail comes in contact with his flushing skin. Teasingly, you grab at the meat of his hip and enjoy the way he puffs out, unconsciously pushing himself back against you. You trace your fingers further forward, inch by inch, tracing the inseam of his jeans...and then suddenly stop. You only start again when he gives a hoarse groan in warning: one that reverberates through his back and makes your breath hitch as it grumbles against your chest.

You press yourself flush against him, giving in and properly wrapping your arm round his waist until your hand reaches his stomach. Finding his bellybutton, you give it a little poke which earns you a kick back from his leg in retaliation, but you can hear the light chuckle he admits despite himself.

‘Late night again, huh?’, he mumbles out. His pursed lips are half open and don’t rise from the pillow. As he lethargically blinks a couple of times, he pretends it’s because he’s too tired too move. He knows deep down in the pit of his stomach, though, that you’re too astute that let that lie fly over your head. You know the man too well, and you know damn rightly that he’s enjoying the feeling of your face smooshing itself into that little soft dip to the side of his shoulder blades. He’s just far too stubborn to ever admit it. But even so, Joel Miller’s silence speaks wonders.

‘Oh, same old same old. Robert’s being a little asshole again.’

‘Oh he is now, is he?’, he turns his head, making as if he’s trying to get up but your quick to push him back down again.

‘He and his little gang of morons can wait until tomorrow. I, on the other hand, am freezing cold. And you, Joel Miller’, you squeeze your arms into a vice around him and lift your legs up to slide in between his knees. They rest heavily, tangling against your own, and the weight is the most wonderous thing you’ve felt all day. ‘You are the best source of heat in all the damn zones put together.’

He lets his elbow rest comfortably on top of your own despite your words, so used to the back and forth between the two of you by now that they just wash over him. In fact, when he feels your forehead bump against the small litter of freckles you know line the left side of his shoulder, that spread of constellations running from the dip of his neck down his left shoulder blade, he even chuckles.

You feel his hand slide down from where it was resting under the cup of his chin to entangle with your fingers. He tugs them in to the heat radiating from his chest, and you take the opportunity to scratch out against the loose buttons of his shirt.

‘You just keeping me ‘round ‘cause of that? If I’m so damn warm, maybe I should go and donate all your jackets to FEDRA.’

You press a kiss against the tightened denim of his arched back and smirk.

‘Yeah, well maybe I should start selling you out for some ration cards. Five of them cards for a ten minute hug with Joel sounds like a pretty easy business to me.’

‘As long as I get 50%.’

‘25% and you’ve got yourself a deal.’

In a surprisingly tender move, Joel brings your intertwined hands up and presses an unhurried kiss to the back of your knuckles.

‘Hmph, we’ll negotiate in the morning. Maybe I’ll make it so you’re my only customer, and then I get the best of both worlds. Hugs and ration cards.’

He says the last part with a sarcastic intonation, but even he can’t stop the helplessly hoping sigh that whistles through his teeth. He shuffles back against you and closes his eyes against the creeping crimson threads of sunrise that begin to shoot out from behind the alleyway corners.

‘How about now, we just settle for hugs. I have no doubt you’ll manage to get Robert’s ration cards tomorrow as well.’

‘Back to business, huh? Sure thing boss.’

You manage to get enough momentum to hit his belly with your hands. He pretends to double over, pushing against you a little too hard and nearly thrusting your abdomen backwards and straight out onto the floor. You manage to grab onto his biceps, though, and clamber back up safely against him. He pulls you tighter, using his free hand to draw circles over your forearm. Once you’ve both settled down on the mattress again, you take a final yawn and settle your chin down on his shoulder.

‘Good night Joel.’

He hums. ‘Night, night, sweetheart.’

As consciousness began to ebb, your mind going into free fall, swirling with the beautiful chaos of oblivion, you could just about make out the hoarse whisper of Joel against his pillow. His voice cragged with the effort, with the heaviness of it, with the consequence of it, yet every word managed to ring out true. It was the most genuine, honest sentence Joel Miller had dared to speak since his baby girl had died, and he was petrified by the choice he was making.

But by god, if it was a choice, if it was a chance that he had to take.

‘I love you.’

[ckret2]

Chapter 32 of human Bill is convinced he's the best prisoner ever and does not deserve this abuse from the Pines:

Bill gets his fingernails painted! 💅🌈✨ Look at his fingernails, I drew this week's picture just to show them off. They're fun.

Bill also gets bound to a magic poppet that can control his every move.

It's hilarious for Dipper and Mabel, but not for Bill.

The early morning still was broken by Stan's wails of despair.

At some point during the night, the egg-and-toilet-papering kids had come back to Stan's car.

And they'd brought rocks.

####

Bill woke up with a sheet tossed over him and a cupcake sitting on the window seat. The cupcake was pink with green frosting and decorated like a happy jack-o'-melon. It was sitting on top of a note:

"Sorry I didn't mention I had plans tonight! Robbie's mom made cupcakes for everyone so I grabbed you one. The music video's gonna be AMAZING! I'll show you when Robbie posts it!" Mabel had signed with a shooting star.

Bill decided he hadn't been mad at Mabel last night at all.

He battled gravity to heave himself vertical, trudged downstairs to the bathroom, stuck his face under the faucet until his mouth tasted less like sour sandpaper, agonizingly dragged himself back upstairs to his makeshift bed, and collapsed under the sheet to wait until his head stopped hammering.

####

Sprawled on the living room floor, Mabel said, "What should I draw?"

"Draw me." Bill was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, watching the news and nursing a glass of Mabel juice. In an effort to counteract the lingering queasiness from overdosing on sugar and chocolate, he'd spiked the juice with two ground-up Elderly 60+ Vitaman™ brand Man Vitamins (khaki flavor) stolen from a bottle that Ford had bought for Stan and that Stan forgot to take.

"Okay!" Mabel turned around and squinted up at Bill. "Strike a pose!"

"Not like this!" Bill shoved a hand in Mabel's face to force her to stop looking. "Draw me how I really look."

"Bill, that's illegal. Remember?" Mabel pointed at the TV. Bodacious T was reporting on a child who'd dressed up for Summerween as "that weird out-of-towner who bothered us last year, you know the one," and who, under the Never Mind All That Act, had been fined fifty pieces of candy. The child's mugshot showed his crying face, but blurred out his yellow costume.

"He'd be the coolest kid in town," Bill said, "if he wasn't such a crybaby in front of the cops. Draw me anyway."

"I don't wanna get arrested!"

"Do you see any cops?" Bill grinned. "Just don't sign your name, nobody will know it was you."

Mabel considered that. "I can sign it someone else's name." She pulled out a few crayons.

"That's what I'm talking about! Do anything you want forever and frame the innocent!"

"What do you want me to draw you doing?"

"The coolest thing you can think of."

Mabel considered that, and got to work.

The news was boring now. They were talking about the weather, and it wasn't even interesting weather. "So hey, you were gonna tell me about filming last night?"

"Oh yeah!" Mabel said. "Did I mention the part where the dead rose from their graves?"

Bill muted the TV. "And I missed it?"

Robbie had decided the cemetery at his place would be more atmospheric than the trick-or-treater-filled streets (and less likely to have their shots ruined by passersby that didn't appreciate the depth of Robbie's lyrics). It went great, until the vibrations of angsty rock-and-roll stirred the slumbering corpses and they clawed their way from their graves. It turned out Gravity Falls had been having off-and-on invasions of the undead for the past year, ever since somebody decided to reanimate every corpse in town for fun, Bill.

"You can't prove it was me, I'm not the only one who knows how to raise the dead!" Bill laughed. "Hey—you're not drawing this body, are you? You said you wouldn't."

"I'm not, I promise!"

"Then why do you keep staring at me?"

"Um."

"Let me see!"

"No! Don't ruin the surprise!" Mabel picked up a glitter pen with feathers glued to the end and waved them in Bill's face. "And no cheating with your eye-bleeding psychic magic!"

Bill smacked the pen away. "Fine! So what did you do with the zombies? Feed one of the teens to them?"

"No! I chewed like four packs of gum me and Dipper got from the weird homeless dentist and made a fake baby brain. We used it as bait to lead them into an open grave," Mabel said. "And then we realized we could use the brain to train them to do tricks! So now we have dancing zombies in the music video. They actually learned the choreography pretty easily."

"Makes sense," Bill said. "I did fill the space where their souls should be with an insatiable hunger to party."

Mabel grinned. "I thought you said they weren't your fault."

"If they're good at dancing, I'm taking credit!"

"They were pretty good—especially considering how many limbs they were missing," Mabel said. "I'll show you when Robbie's finished editing the video."

"And I'll get to see you playing a creepy ghost kid, right?"

"Yeah! We were the greatest ghosts ever! Check it out, we were like—" Mabel fixed Bill with a dead-eyed slack-jawed stare and whisper-sang, "'We're the things that you have lost. Childhood joy, dead as a ghost.'"

"Chills."

"Dipper tried so hard to get in character as a ghost that he completely zoned out for a minute! When we shook him out of it, he said he felt like he had an out-of-body experience!"

####

At his computer, Robbie clicked play on a clip of the twins standing side-by-side in front of the cemetery gate. As they sang the chorus, Dipper's face went still; and then a spectral gray form rose out of his head, still singing in sync with Mabel.

"Whoa," Robbie said. "Sick. I'm keeping that in."

####

"So, it turns out my bro is an expert method actor," Mabel boasted.

Bill thought back to Dipper drifting up and down the stairs in the middle of the night. "Yep. Sounds like he's got quite a talent."

Mabel set down her crayons and held out a paper. "Okay—what do you think?"

Bill accepted the drawing. "Am I riding on the back of a rocket ship?"

"Like a bucking bronco! See the rocket flames doing a loop?"

"Sure do. Why am I holding a fish bowl?"

"It's like a cowboy waving his hat, but, you're in space. So that's your astronaut helmet."

"It's beautiful," Bill said intensely. "It's the best thing I've ever seen."

"Aw, really? Thanks!"

"When I take over the universe, I'm rearranging the constellations to look like this."

"Don't do that, though."

"Fine, but I'm hanging it up in my throne room." Bill set down his empty glass so he could hold the picture with both hands, beaming at it as proudly as though he'd made it himself. Big change from his lukewarm reception of her house drawing yesterday. She should draw Bill more often. Being a good artist meant understanding what your audience wanted.

Unfortunately, now that she'd finished her drawing, she didn't have anything to distract her from staring at Bill. And she'd taken about as much of seeing him as she could stand. "Bill. I say this with non-judgmental love. But you look sooo terrible."

"Yeah, I know. I think I'm shaped about as nicely as a human could ask for," he pantomimed drawing a triangle in front of his torso, "but let's be real, there's only so much you can do when you're working with a human bone structure. And there's way too much neck—"

"No! Bill, your body is beautiful just the way it is, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I meant your hair looks awful."

Bill had taken a shower yesterday morning, emerged with his hair all wet and tangled, and done absolutely nothing to detangle it. And then, with it still half damp and totally disheveled, he'd shoved it under a cheap acrylic wig for the rest of the night. And then he'd fallen asleep on the floor still wearing the wig.

And now, with the wig removed, his hair looked like a bird had plucked out half a scarecrow's straw brains and made a nest out of it.

"It sure does," Bill said, with the slightly forlorn air of someone complaining about a war in a far-off country over which one had no power.

"So brush it!"

"No. Never. You can't make me."

"Why not? I thought you wanted to keep your hair all triangly!"

"Not enough to touch it. Either it'll figure out how to straighten out on its own or it won't, I'm not messing with it. I've got enough going on in my life today." By which he meant he had the last lingering traces of a hangover, which was a valid excuse to get out of all social, moral, and aesthetic obligations.

Mabel groaned in frustration. "I can't take looking at it anymore! If you won't brush it, can I?"

Bill gave her a skeptical look; but then he flung his hands out dismissively. "Sure, why not? If it bothers you so much. Have at it."

"I'll be right back!"

She got her brush from upstairs and a spray bottle from the kitchen, and directed Bill to sit on the floor so she could get on the couch behind him. After making such a fuss about brushing his hair, Bill was surprisingly well-behaved with somebody else brushing it for him. He didn't even complain when Mabel accidentally yanked on some nasty snarls a little harder than she meant to.

"I feel like a corpse getting prettied up for my funeral," Bill said. "Grooming each other is how humans bond, isn't it? This is one of your little social rituals? If all you wanted was to make sure we're still friends after you ditched me last night, you could have just asked."

Mabel shoved her foot between Bill's shoulder blades. Wise guy. She joked, "Yeah! We're bonding now! After this we're gonna paint each other's fingernails and talk about what kind of boys we like."

"I want rainbow spiral fingernails."

Mabel really should be used to this—but she still kept getting surprised that Bill was interested in the stuff she liked. And not even in a patronizing sure-I'll-play-along way. He'd turned to look at her. There was a gleam in his eyes. He really wanted rainbow spiral fingernails.

And now she wanted rainbow spiral fingernails, too. "Fine! But look forward until I finish your hair." One way or another, Mabel vowed, she would reform Bill into a proper good guy—even if she had to drag him there kicking and screaming. Fun dress-up partners were hard to find, and she couldn't afford to lose Bill.

####

Soos wandered to the living room to find somewhere to hang up his and Melody's "Best Couple Cosplay" award, but stopped in the doorway.

Bill, Mabel, and Waddles were sitting on the floor, watching some kind of cartoon psychedelic fairy princess lecture a spider on the importance of colors, with a bowl of popcorn between them. Bill and Mabel both had bright multicolor fingernails and were eating the popcorn with chopsticks to avoid touching their nails. There was more popcorn on the floor than in the bowl. Waddles had taken no such cares to avoid dragging his freshly painted hooves through the carpet. 

"Truth or dare," Bill said.

"Dare!"

"Dare you to assassinate the..." Bill trailed off. "I can't have the mayor assassinated, he runs Rainbow Club. And the sheriff and deputy invited me... There aren't a lot of public officials in this dumb town, are there?"

"I'm not killing anybody, Bill. Truth."

"Fine, coward. What's your favorite toxic fume fragrance?"

"That's easy! Gasoline!"

"Hey, mine too! At least on this planet. It smells like—you know that smell that heralds the coming of rain? Gasoline is the smell that heralds a really fun time."

"Yeah! Like going on a road trip!"

Bill paused. "Right! I was... I was definitely thinking about road trips. That's exactly what I meant."

Mabel added, "And it looks so cool when there's a little bit spilled in a parking spot—"

"The rainbow puddles! Yes! Big fan of the rainbow puddles—"

"I love parking lot rainbow puddles! It's like surprise happiness in the most boring place on the planet!"

Soos mumbled, "Girl talk," decided to hang his award up later, and left.

####

Dipper heard the bedroom door open and Mabel call, "Hey Dipper!"

"Hey." He didn't look up from his journal, where he was documenting last night's zombie adventures. "Oh, hey, bad news—Wendy said she got a text from Robbie, it sounds like all the footage from the cemetery last night is ruined?"

"Aww! What? But we worked so hard to train those zombies!"

"Yeah, it's just static. But everything we shot outside the gates is fine. I wonder if it's something supernatural that interferes with electronics?"

"Something supernatural? In the cemetery? Full of zombies? What are the odds of that!" Mabel laughed. "But heyyy, I've got some good news!"

"What?"

Mabel stuck a hairbrush full of gold hair between Dipper's face and his journal. "I got a replacement for the Bill hair sample we gave Pacifica!" She grinned and whispered, "Wanna make a poppet?"

####

It would have been really cool if the first full moon of summer vacation had come on Summerween. But the calendar gods were unkind that year, and instead, it came the next day, on June 23.

Which worked out, in the end, since it meant they didn't have any scheduling conflicts on the one night they could make a poppet.

They had the ritual space set up in their bedroom—a chalk star drawn on the floor with a black candle at each point—and the doll representing Bill—which Mabel had upgraded with button eyes and a miniature version of his favorite knit hoodie. They collected all the shed blonde strands off Mabel's hairbrush, wrapped them around the doll's neck, and tied them on. They set the doll in the center of the star; Bartholomew talked them through the ritual; the flames on the candles leaped a foot in the air, turned a pale blue, and then went out; and the binding ritual was complete. The doll was now connected to Bill Cipher.

"Weird," Bartholomew said. "Usually the flames turn black. I've never seen them turn blue before."

Dipper said, "That's not a problem, is it?"

"No, no. I've just never used the binding ritual on an alien before! I guess it works a little different!"

Dipper picked up the doll and eyed it skeptically. "Mabel, I know we said we're saving this for emergencies only, but—maybe we should test it out just to make sure it actually works?"

"I guess we should," Mabel said, grimacing. "Just—don't do anything that'd hurt him. Okay?"

Yeah, Dipper should've expected that. Whether he liked it or not, Mabel didn't just see Bill as her weird experiment in criminal rehabilitation—she saw him as her friend. He sighed. "Okay. But is it fine if we do something that would embarrass him?"

Mabel shrugged. "I don't see why not!"

####

As they crept from their room, Mabel whispered, "What if we stick him in a box and shake it up? And then tell him there was an earthquake!"

"I thought you were the one who didn't want to hurt him."

"Oh right."

Bill wasn't on his cushions under the window, so they crept downstairs. Halfway down, Dipper stopped, putting a hand on Mabel's arm. Bill was sitting at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, staring out the window.

"This is perfect," he whispered. "He's completely vulnerable. He's got his back to us, he's looking at the moonlight—even if he turns around, he won't see us because his eyes will have to readjust to the dark."

"I don't know if his eyes need to adjust," Mabel said. "Have you ever noticed he never turns the lights on when he goes into a room?"

Dipper considered that. He hadn't noticed—but now that Mabel mentioned it, Bill did have a tendency to lurk in the dark. "Well—okay, but he's still not looking at us. Let's see how this works..." He studied the doll; then turned it around and gently brushed a finger through its yarn hair.

For a moment, nothing happened; and then Bill swatted at the back of his head and looked around, as if he was trying to find what had touched him.

"I think it's working," Dipper hissed.

"Are you sure? What if there's actually a fly in the kitchen?"

Could be. "Let me see if it can control him."

"Careful—"

Dipper grabbed one of the doll's arms and tentatively lifted it.

Bill's arm shot up. He stared at it in bafflement. "Wh...?"

Mabel bit her lip. Dipper waved the doll's arm.

Bill's arm waved. After a pause, he tentatively asked, "Hello?" As if he thought maybe his arm was waving at someone and he should play along with it.

Mabel and Dipper clapped their hands over their mouths, fighting to keep their giggles quiet. Mabel elbowed Dipper, "Hey Dipper Dipper Dipper, get him to stand up, let me control his legs, I have the best idea—"

Bill knocked over his chair and had to flail his arms for balance as he abruptly jerked to his feet. He looked around, eyes wide and wild, an edge of panic to his voice as he hollered, "WHAT'S GOING ON!"

Dipper held the doll out to Mabel. "Okay hurry!" Mabel took it by the legs—

—and Bill started doing the cancan. He shrieked. "WHAT?!"

Dipper shoved his shirt over his mouth to muffle his hysterics. Mabel was letting little wheezy squeaks out through her nose. Bill's voice was almost an octave higher as he screamed, "WHEN I FIND OUT WHO'S BEHIND THIS, I'M GONNA SHRED YOU—" and they both got so close to bursting laughing out loud that they had to pause to punch each other's shoulders for self control.

Still holding one of the doll's legs up, Mabel hissed, "Dipper do you remember the bottle dance. Where they crouch down with bottles on their heads. Can we—can we get a tiny bottle for the doll—"

Bill was failing both arms to avoid falling with one foot held in the air. He grabbed the counter for balance. And then, with a grunt of effort, he wrenched his foot down and stomped it to the ground.

The doll's leg yanked out of Mabel's hand.

Dipper and Mabel fell silent, staring at the doll. They looked at each other. Mabel whispered, "It shouldn't be able to do that, right?"

They looked at Bill.

Bill's face was burning red, and he was so far past fury that his expression was perfectly blank. His eyes were huge, and round, and pointed straight at them.

They bolted up the stairs.

Bill charged after them.

They screamed in terror. They weren't loud enough to drown out Bill: "WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU BRATS—"

Mabel grabbed Dipper's arm. "Dipper, do something!"

"Uhh—!" He tossed the doll in the air and caught it.

They heard an alarmed yelp as Bill was launched in the air and then a crash as he landed on the stairs again.

They scrambled into their room and slammed the door. "Safe!" Mabel said.

"Yeah," Dipper said, panting for breath. "Can't get us here."

The doll's head twisted 180 degrees to stare up at them.

They yelped. Dipper tossed the doll to Mabel. Mabel held it out at arm's length, threw it in her nightstand's drawer, and slammed it. It tried to open again and she leaned against it with her full body weight. "Dipper, the duct tape! In my craft supplies!"

"Which craft supplies?!"

The tiny knocking inside the drawer was echoed by the pounding at the door, accompanied by a string of creative death threats: "—and when I'm finished the coroner won't know which corpse was which! I'll make a belt out of your spinal columns—!"

"We didn't do anything," Mabel shouted, "it wasn't our fault!" She took the duct tape from Dipper and frantically wrapped it around the night stand. Dipper added, "It was someone else! And we'll never do it again—"

Sleepy and muffled, Soos's voice drifted through the door, "Dudes? What's all the hubbub?"

Dipper and Mabel gasped, "Soos!" "Save us!"

His voice the perfect tone of righteous indignation, Bill declared, "I'm being assaulted, that's what!"

Stan's voice joined in from downstairs: "BILL! If you don't leave those kids alone I'll cave your nose in!"

"THEY'RE THE AGGRESSORS," Bill screamed, half hysterical. "They are! I'm the victim here! I'm being victimized!"

Stan shouted, "Kids, good work! Bill, you can go to—" He grumbled as he self-censored, "—sleep! Shut up and go to sleep!"

"You can go jump in the bottomless pit, Stanley Pines! I'll tear you all apart with my teeth if I have to! NOBODY in this stupid junk heap of a shack is getting any sleep until I get my—"

From just outside the attic door, Stan roared, "BILL!"

There was a dull thud as Bill leaned against their door; a lot less shouty, he quickly said, "I'm going to bed, I'm going to bed, I'm going to bed."

"That's what I thought," Stan snapped. The kids heard his footsteps retreating downstairs. Soos said, "Um... night," and his door shut. After a moment, there was the creak of footsteps retreating from the attic door.

Dipper and Mabel slowly, softly snuck across the room to the door, and pressed their ears to the crack. No sound.

They stayed there for several minutes, barely breathing, listening to the silence.

Finally, Mabel pulled away and looked at Dipper. They both nodded, and Dipper opened the door a crack to check if the coast was clear.

Bill's eye stared in. "Hey, kids!"

They yelled. Dipper tried to slam the door; but Bill had already shoved his hand through. Fingernails painted with neon colors and black spirals clawed at the doorframe. He shouldered through the gap in the door, and then he was in the room, smiling much too wide and eyes fixed on them like helicopter spotlights on two wanted criminals. There was blood on his teeth. "Wow! Playing with poppets?"

Dipper upturned his suitcase and held it up like a shield. Mabel pointed a can of spray paint at Bill's face. Bill took a step closer and they took a step back.

"Pretty advanced trick for a couple of children your age," Bill said conversationally. "Not bad, not bad at all. Heck, I'm impressed you pulled it off! Although you didn't make a very smart choice of test subject." He stomped a foot twice.

Something in the nightstand thudded twice. The twins jumped. Bill laughed at them.

Mentally cursing himself for having flinched, Dipper straightened his back and glared at Bill. "You're just mad you got jerked around like a puppet! What's the matter, Bill—you can dish it but you can't take it?" Mabel looked at Dipper like he was crazy.

Bill's indulgent smile cracked, dropping into a snarl of rage. He shifted his weight toward them. Mabel dropped into a judo stance and Dipper sucked in a breath to shout for Stan.

Before anyone could launch a full attack, Mabel took a shaky breath in, forced a nervous smile, and said, "Bill, hey..." (His eyes snapped to her face like a predator that just heard a twig snap.) "This was—just a funny prank, and we're all cool? Right?"

"Mabel," Dipper muttered. "Shhh!"

But Mabel kept looking at Bill. "Right? Buddies?" She held up her arm, showing Bill her friendship bracelet.

Bill stopped and rocked back on his heels. He gave Mabel a long, hard look—like he was seriously considering whether to accept the reality she was inventing. "Yeah. Real funny." Smiling through grit teeth, he said, "You know—it's been a while since I've had my energy strung between two vessels. I didn't even know what that experience felt like for a human! Very interesting. Educational. And it was nice to feel weightless again for a second. Even if the landing was a little rough." He licked the blood off his teeth. One of the teeth shifted. "So—thanks so much for spicing up a boring night. It's been a real blast. Hasn't it." He stared at them like he expected an answer—and possibly like he planned to strangle whoever answered first.

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look. Dipper shook his head slightly. Mabel looked Bill in the eyes again. "Yeah! Big blast. So, you're not... mad. Right? Nobody's mad!"

Bill stared her down for a moment longer; and then said, "Sure, kid! It's all fun and games!" He forced a laugh—and then another, longer one, hahhh, like he was exhaling all his rage. And just like that, he was back to normal. "I'll admit it—for a second there, you almost got me good! Not bad at all." He held out his hand insistently. "And now the game's over, so you're gonna give me that toy so I can neutralize it. Aren't you?"

Dipper bit his lip, looking past Bill toward the stairs. He could yell for Stan; there was no way Bill could kill them before reinforcements got here—

Mabel elbowed Dipper's side and whispered, "We can't keep it."

And she was right. Now that Bill knew about the doll, he'd be spending all his time plotting how to get past them to take it, and they wouldn't have a second's peace. Either he got it now, or he got it later. Bill wouldn't rest until the doll was out of their hands.

Because he was terrified of it. Why wouldn't he be?

"Yeah," Dipper sighed. "Game over."

"I'll get it." Mabel peeled just enough duct tape off the night stand to wiggle it open a crack and try to squeeze her fingers in. Bill stretched his hand toward Mabel, and the doll stretched an arm out of the drawer. Mabel flinched in surprise, but grabbed the arm and yanked the doll free.

"Ow." Bill grabbed his shoulder and rolled it gingerly. "Careful, kid, are you trying to dislocate my arm? I don't mind popping it back in, but eventually that socket's gonna wear out."

"Sorry! It was a tight squeeze." She held the doll over Dipper's suitcase shield. "Here."

Bill snatched it from her hand. "Thanks a million, star girl." He favored them both with his most nearly-charming, far-too-wide smile. "Good night, kiddos. Have sweet dreams."

"You too," Mabel said weakly.

Bill left. Dipper shut the door. He and Mabel both heaved a sigh of relief.

From the loft over the attic, Bartholomew called, "Is he gone?"

"What are you doing up there?" Mabel asked. "Barty-mew-mew the scaredy-cat."

"I'm not fighting that guy, I'm porcelain and he's crazy."

Dipper flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "Welp. I'm gonna have nightmares about Bill chasing me up the stairs."

Mabel sat on her own bed. "He just wanted to terrify us. And to keep us from seeing we'd terrified him." She fingered the star beads on her friendship bracelet. "He wouldn't have hurt us, I'm sure of it."

"Wh—seriously? You don't think Bill—"

"I know! But he's changed a tiny bit! He'd hurt anyone else, but he won't hurt us," Mabel said. "Or—well, me, at least. But I think he'll leave you alone too if I'm with you!"

Dipper pushed himself up on his elbows to look at her. "If he'd caught us on the stairs, do you really think he wouldn't have tried to tear us apart?"

Mabel considered that; and then reluctantly admitted, "He wouldn't hurt me as long as he remembers he doesn't want to hurt me." 

"Yeah, well. I wouldn't count on him remembering when he's mad." Dipper slid under his covers and rolled over. "Barty, can you get the lights?"

"Sure, one second." All the lights and lamps in the room flickered ominously; and then, with a sinister pop, snapped off without being touched.

"Thanks, man."

Mabel didn't climb into bed. She was staring at her fingernails. She'd painted them the same colors as Bill's; but she'd used a black marker to draw spirals on his, and he'd drawn stars and sloppy tiger stripes on hers.  In the dark, the colors were all faded.

This time, just once, maybe she and Dipper were the bad guys. He might disagree—he'd actually been puppeted, maybe he saw this differently from Mabel—but that probably didn't make it okay to do it back to Bill just for fun. They should've saved the poppet for an emergency. And the cancan, she decided, was definitely too much.

She smoothed out her covers; then she pulled up her knees to her chest, hugged them, and stared thoughtfully down at Bill's face in the middle of her zodiac blanket.

####

In the dark and quiet of the downstairs bathroom, Bill sat cross-legged on the toilet lid. He held the doll in his cupped hands. Soon, he'd disassemble it—but not yet. Tonight, it was his tool. He shut his eyes and focused on it.

There was the thinnest thread of energy, channeled through his shed hair, connecting this doll to him. He studied the thread, feeling it in his mind, exploring it, strengthening it—until he could almost feel it tugging on him.

And then he started psychically groping for similar connections.

He set the doll on the floor, on top of the drawing Mabel had given him.

His other eyes—the billions of depictions of his face scattered across this planet—weren't meant to be used in this dimension. They were designed like windows he could peer through from the Nightmare Realm; here on Earth, he was on the wrong side of the windows to see through them. And he wouldn't be surprised if the Axolotl had somehow found a way to blindfold them on top of that—after all, he seemed to have done the same to most of Bill's other abilities.

But Bill was resourceful, he was stubborn, and he didn't have anything better to do.

He focused all his energy on trying to feel the drawing the same way he felt the doll, searching for a connection between this body and that face—and he searched, and searched, and searched.

He wasn't sure how long he tried. At least a couple of hours. Straining, straining—for nothing. His head hurt.

What was the difference? The doll was shaped like him, the drawing was shaped like him. What did the doll have that the drawing didn't?

The hair. A bit of his flesh.

Bill knelt over the picture, studying it in the dark. He opened an eye wide, wiped a fingertip across the surface of his eyeball to collect his tears, and pressed it to the drawing's eye.

He could feel a thread of energy stringing from his eye to the paper.

He climbed back on the toilet lid, shut his eyes, and focused on that thread. With an effort that threatened to split his head in two, he pried open his inner eye. And then he was staring up at his own human form from the drawing on the floor.

His body was shaking. His head was throbbing. He wobbled dizzily on the toilet; and as he saw himself topple off, his trance broke, the vision disappeared, and he blacked out. White spots burst behind his eyes.

When he next opened an eye, the room was spinning. He shut his eye. It was several minutes before he could sit up without being sick. He leaned against the wall and let the sweat on his forehead and cheek soak the old wallpaper.

The white spots he'd seen as he passed out were his distant all-seeing eyes. 

He'd done something tonight. That was good. But there was no way he was seeing through any other pictures like that. He needed something he could focus his power through, like an antenna.

He needed gold.

####

(Last chapter of the year!! If you enjoyed, I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts & comments! Thanks!)

[mokulule]

Ghastly Glacial Goodies

What is this Moku? Another AU? Yep, sorry not sorry. It's cute okay! I'm gonna be doing illustrations and stuff. Also ice cream, who doesn't love ice cream? I blame this like 70% on @clockwaysarts cause they were playing around with a blob popsicle design (a blobsicle XD) and this thing spawned. Thanks to the people who took part in brainstorming on the Dead on Main server.

Chapter 1 - Polaris

The evening was dreary that day. Jason couldn’t tell you what had made him want to take a pre-patrol walk of all things. The light drizzle wasn’t terrible, but he’d been out so long his hair was plastered wetly to his forehead. The sun hadn’t quite gone down yet, but the clouds stole a lot of the light. A white mist had rolled in from the bay, softening the corners of buildings, and it almost made the world feel unreal. It dampened the sounds of the city and echoed his steps.

That was when he heard it, like little bells or a music box, a haunting tune. He frowned and followed the beckoning sound. He knew that melody, though it played a bit slow. What was the name again? He walked, unknowingly matching the notes as they slowly gained speed. A sense of urgency rose in his chest. He turned a corner and froze, stunned.

In the light from a hazy streetlight was an ice cream truck.

In this weather? Jason’s befuddled brain protested as he took in the downright baffling sight of the truck and the surprisingly many customers in line as well as the groups of people chatting and smiling eating ice cream in the rain.

The truck was all soft rounded edges with minty green accents, a cartoon ghost that looked as surprised as Jason felt with wide eyes and a mouth in an o decorated the side of the truck beside the counter. A quaint canopy stretched out over the counter. Its white and pastel pink stripes ended in festive tapered triangles which looked more at home at a fair, than some random street in Gotham. Apropos Jason looked up trying to figure out where he was, but didn’t find any street signs, just the sign telling him this street was a dead end.

The music was still playing, pleasant bells clinging softly. It didn’t feel so urgent now. He remembered the song suddenly: In the Hall of the Mountain King. A strange song for an ice cream truck, Jason thought as he walked to the back of the line. In the play wasn’t it for when Peer Gynt was escaping the mountain? That seemed in a way like the opposite of what an ice cream truck should signal. But then again as long as people recognized the song that would draw them in anyway. It was still a very impressive line for the weather.

The line moved slowly but steadily. The happy chatter was like a comforting blanket of background noise and Jason felt his shoulders slowly relax. He reached a sign that showed off various shaped ice creams on sticks in the shape of what looked like cartoon people and a happy green… blob? with red eyes called a blobsicle. It was a ghost Jason suddenly realized, of course that was the theme going by the truck.

Polaris the sign said in big swirly letters and then underneath in a smaller type it said “Ghastly Glacial Goodies” - someone had really wanted the alliteration there, Jason thought bemused. That person might be the young man behind the counter who just wished a girl and her mother a good night, before turning to the last person before Jason. I was hard to judge the man’s height since he was inside the truck, but he struck Jason as short, he was on the slender side an impression only enhanced by the formfitting green striped west and the way he whipped around inside the truck filling the newest order.

Apparently the current customer was buying for his friends, there had been pointing to a waving group standing a few yards away. It gave Jason another moment to ponder his options. The glass shield had stickers on it detailing the various scoopable options - they included such gems as Booberry, Spookistacchio and Rum and Raising, which had a small cartoon zombie on its sticker. Jason felt almost like he could have stayed there all day chuckling over all the silly puns, they had certainly committed to the bit.

Finally the last order was handed over with a wide smile. The ice cream guy exuded such a genuine warmth, that had nothing to do with the actual temperature - in fact it was really cold Jason noted as he sniffled to stop his nose from running.

Finally ice cream guy, Danny his name tag said, faced Jason in his classic ice cream man glory; striped vest, sleeves rolled up to his elbows he even had a silly little hat in his unruly black hair, it was a miracle it stayed on.

Danny looked a bit startled to see him, but then his smile was back and he leaned on the counter slightly to be eye level with Jason. Jason felt his breath hitch just slightly in his throat; It was almost like those blue eyes sparkled like stars.

“Why hello there, haven’t seen you around Polaris before.”

Jason shook himself out of it, grasping for something to say in return, what popped into his head was the oddity of the music, what came out was, “So are you the Troll King?”

For a moment everything was silent, then Danny burst out laughing. Hand over his mouth, he leaned on the counter. His shoulders shook as he tried to contain his snickering.

“You-“ he lost control and laughed, “are the first person” - more laughing - “to remark on the music.”

The laughter was infectious and Jason found himself chuckling. His cheeks hurt slightly from smiling. He wasn’t sure when he’d last smiled this much.

Danny finally gained control over his laughter. He peeked up at Jason through his fingers from where he was practically lying over the counter.

“Not quite the Troll King,” he snickered again before straightening up and gesturing around himself “but welcome to my castle of ghastly glacial goodies.”

“Did you have to think hard on that one?”

Danny’s face turned mock serious. “You have no idea, there were even thesauruses involved.” Then in a lower voice he added to himself, “violent little bastards.”

“What was that?” Jason said, not sure he heard that right.

“Never mind,” Danny smiled, “so what can I do for you? You’re my last customer of the night.”

Jason frowned confused and looked around. To his shock, somehow everyone had left without him even noticing, it was just him, Danny and the truck in the lamplight. He had to be really off his game tonight maybe he was coming down with a cold. He sniffled again and saw Danny frown worriedly. Ice cream wasn’t suitable for the wet weather, but it seemed silly to have stood in line and not get any.

“Do you have any recommendations?”

“Well, all ice cream is made by yours truly so I can’t really pick a favorite, but bloop of the month is Rum and Raising.”

Of course it was the zombie one, wait-

“Bloop?”

“Yeah instead of scoops? I was told it was cuter than gloops.”

Jason blinked.

“Here let me show you.” Danny grabbed a cone and expertly swirled the ice cream scoop round his fingers once before scooping up a mostly round ball of Rum and Raising and plopping it in the cone, he then considered for moment before adding another scoop, this time of “Cosmic Crunch”. He then pressed four small round red gummies into the ice cream, two on each “bloop” and held it out for Jason to inspect and huh, they had eyes now - a bit similar to the Blobsicle actually, except these were stacked on top of each other. It was a kinda cute idea, kids probably loved it.

Jason took the ice cream.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Four dollars, and this is on the house.“ He pushed a cardboard cup of steaming coffee towards Jason on the counter. “That will bring back a bit of life to you, you’re looking a bit ghastly.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Jason rolled his eyes, but he was feeling pretty cold and he sniffled again as he found the money and put it on the counter next to the cup. “But thanks anyway.”

“Have a good night.” Danny smiled warmly and Jason couldn’t help but smile in return. He lifted the cup as a salute and turned around to walk away. He took a small sip and instantly felt warmth spread in his chest. That really hit the spot. He kept sipping at the coffee until a drip of melted ice cream hit his fingers and reminded him of the ice cream.

Oh yeah, he had paid for this.

He licked at the droplet and quickly followed it back up the cone to make sure there would be no more dripping. Cosmic crunch he quickly discovered was hazelnut with lots of crunchy nuts and he didn’t really know how to classify the rest. There was something indefinably delicious about it. Yes, it was all the things ice cream should be, creamy, smooth, rich, but there was something more. Like something he never knew he needed. Before he realized it he was down to the last bits and biting into the cone. Only a few more bites and it was gone.

That was-

It was easily the most delicious ice cream he ever had, but not only that; he felt sated, calm and almost floaty. Was the ice cream drugged? Alarmed at the thought, he spun around, but all that met him was a long empty street with no ice cream truck in sight.

Had he really walked that far already?

He would track down the ice cream truck later. He looked at his phone, it was almost midnight. How odd… He must have stood in line longer than he thought. No patrol was happening tonight, he realized with a yawn. He was much too tired.

The walk to his apartment was a blur, and it felt like it was only a couple of steps until he fell over on top of his bed, clothes and all. Everything was so fuzzy and nice.

Jason slept with no nightmares.

-

Okay, so this is definitely a small back burner project I'm working on, so don't expect any regular-ish updates, they are gonna happen when they happen. And now that I've gotten that out of my system I can hopefully focus writing the next bit for Catnip.

[slasherfckr]

Good Morning, I hope you have a wonderful day!!✨ I was wondering if you could write a Michael Myers X fem plus size reader who appreciates Michael and actually treats him like a human✨ plus smut if you like ☺️

Holy SHIT this should not have taken two months to post 😭😭😭 I'm sosososo sorry it did. I wrote this with the Rob Zombie version of Michael Myers in mind BUT I tried leaving it ambiguous enough so if you wanted, let's say PeePaw Myers instead, you could read it as that version too 😊

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

☠️⚠️ Warnings - Slight mentions of: Implied sex, domestic abuse, and killings/death⚠️☠️

(Semi-NSFW) Michael Myers x PlusSize!Fem!Reader

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

You sat on your couch, flipping through a book you had checked out from the Library when the couch suddenly dipped. Michael was home.

"Well hello to you too." You laughed as you scooted over to him and made yourself comfortable on his sturdy lap. His hands moved to your plush thighs and gripped them, keeping you in place.

You laid your head on his shoulder, listening to the quiet sound of his breathing coming out from his mask. That was the only sign of life coming from the man as his body was completely still. Well that and the semi-death grip he had on your plump thighs.

You sometimes think how odd it was for someone so cold and seemingly heartless that could murder a random person on the street without a second thought would ever be like....this. Sitting on a couch, holding their S/O so tightly and close. Yet, Michael Myers IS human after all. Everyone, even Dr Loomis or Laurie Strode, seemed to forget that. He wasn't completely incapable of love.

The night you had met Michael, you had gotten into a fight with your now deceased ex. They had shoved you to the ground and were spewing all sorts of hateful things about you and your weight. You nor them noticed the shadowy figure come up behind them and drive the large knife deep into the back of their chest.

For whatever reason, Michael didn't kill you that night. Maybe he had seen the dispute between the two of you, which reminded him of his own past; His father beat his mother perhaps? Maybe it could have been his sister or classmates that relentlessly bullied him in his youth? You didn't know and Michael would never tell.

Yet, for whatever reason, Michael kept coming back to your home after that night. Back to you. You would see him occasionally in your back yard or across the street, just slightly standing in view from a little ways away. As he kept visiting, he would also start to leave little gifts behind. Like a cat leaving a dead mouse for it's owner. Gifts usually included something from one of his victims, like a necklace or a book.

Then one night, after coming home from work, you found him upstairs in your bedroom. You weren't afraid of him like you were that first night or the couple first times you saw him stalking you. No, you knew he wouldn't hurt you...at least on purpose.

He had wanted to officially make you his. Despite every common sense you had, you let him. He was a killer, yes, but that didn't stop you from letting him pick you up and plop you down onto your bed.

Him being a killer didn't stop you from letting him undress you, running his hands all over your body and chubby belly. The way he filled your tight cunt with his fat cock was almost too much for you. He made you feel amazing but also didn't let you forget how dangerous he was either that night. To say you didn't wake up the next day with a few bruises and cuts would be a lie. Him being a killer didn't stop you from falling in love with him. He was, after all, a human just like you were.

While lost in thought, something dawned on you. He's never let you seen his face, even after two whole years. 'Such a shame,' you thought to yourself as you slowly began to feel drowsiness creep up on you. Damn. You had gotten too lost in though and were now getting sleepy. Yet that did stop you from wondering what Michael looked like under that mask. Was he cute? Ugly? Incredibly hot? Guess that was only for him to know. Apparently Laurie had unmasked him once and saw his face, but she took the secret of his identity to her grave.

Suddenly you felt yourself being lifted. You were quickly dozing off and Michael knew this. Wasn't long before you felt the comfort of your bed. You quickly got yourself under the covers and curled up, snuggling the top of the blanket. You looked up to thank him.

Instead, your eyes ended up meeting the most gorgeous ocean blues you have ever seen. He had obvious scarring on his face but that didn't bother you. You actually found it quite attractive actually. You went to sit up but Michael crawled into bed and put his hand around your neck.

He guided you back down so you were flat on your back, giving your neck a rough squeeze. You could see it now. The animalistic hunger in his eyes. You suddenly didn't feel an ounce of sleepiness in you anymore. It was replaced with a growing pool of heat in-between your legs. You were in for a long night.

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

A/N: I'm sorry if y'all ain't into somewhat Domestic Michael but I'm absolutely a whore for all that 😭 I wish there were more fics with a domestic Mikey

[fangirl-writes]

Dancing in the Street

Willard Hewitt x Fem!Reader; Ren McCormack x Sister!Reader

Warning(s): Just general stuff in the movie. If you’ve seen it you should be fine. Also the reader doesn’t like Ariel so if you like her, sorry.

Request(s): 

I lost all these asks trying to answer them so idk what happened I’m sorry.

1) Hi hi hi, I was wondering if you could write a Willard x reader fic from the 2011 footloose? I'm having Miles Teller brain rot and cannot stop thinking about him!! 💕💕✨

2)  Can I get a Willard Hewitt x reader where your Rens sister and you guys meet at school then is really impressed you and your brother dance so good at the diner plssss?? I love Willard

3)  hi!! i was wondering if you could write something for willard hewitt (footloose 2011)? i can not find a single fanfic for this man so if you could write something with fluff and maybe like best friends to lovers that would be so awesome! thank you so much :)

Notes: Hope you guys are happy. I had to watch the Footloose remake to do this fic. The remake. It’s...not good.

Anyway, first footloose fic! Yay! I hope you like even if it’s ridiculously short.

When you agreed to move down to Bomont with your brother, you didn’t think it would be as shitty as it was.

You’d already lost your mom, you didn’t need the rest of the joy in your life sucked out, but apparently the town was looking to do just that.

No music? No dancing? Are you kidding? Isn’t that against the first amendment or something?

Apparently not, as it seemed this rinky-dink town hadn’t changed its views since the ‘80s.

You worked as a waitress at Starlite and Ren was stuck in a cotton gin. The school hated Ren’s guts and didn’t take too kindly to your “explicit and vulgar display” of band t-shirts. Plus that plus prissy little Ariel Moore made you wanna hurl, even if Ren was infatuated with her for some god-knows reason.

It wasn’t all bad. You helped Ren fix up the yellow bug and he drove you to school every day, not that you had another choice besides maybe walking.

And there was also Willard. The ray of sunshine through the cloud of darkness in all his southern glory. 

You guys met him the first day of school and the three of you meshed right away. You told him when Ren was bullshitting him and he explained what all of his crazy phrases meant.

You weren’t sure you were into him “like that” yet, but you’d heard Ren smack him upside the head for commenting on your looks once, which told you enough.

And, lucky for you, Woody’s uncle, Claude, was a pretty rebellious boss.

“Hey, Woody!” Claude said. “Check the door man. Cop still here?”

Ren and you exchanged a glance as Woody went over to the window to watch the cop pull away.

“Five-O getting his move on,” Woody reported. “Whatcha got for me, Uncle Claude?”

Claude reached down below the counter and pulled up a burner CD. “David Banner, bootleg. Don’t get too krunk out there. First sign of the police, I’m gonna pull the plug. I don’t want a fine and you don’t want another ticket.”

“Wait,” Ren said. “You got a ticket for dancing?”

“He got two tickets for dancing,” Woody’s girlfriend answered. “One more and he’s off the team.”

You followed Claude to the back where he had a record player that doubled as a CD player. Your mouth dropped open in awe.

“All right, let’s get this party started,” Claude said.

He flipped some switches that turned on the outside speakers and turned back to you.

“Now, I know you’re new here so I’ll let you go watch this one time,” he said. “But don’t expect me to let you off work just to dance.”

You grinned widely before practically tearing off your apron to follow Ren, Rusty, and Willard outside.

The speakers were like old drive-in speakers that blared in the parking lot and you watched in awe as the previously perceived boring small-town kids danced better than you could.

“Yeah, dude, they- they get into it,” Willard said.

"Hey, you,” a girl said to Ren. “Come on, let’s dance.”

She pulled him out onto the floor and you watched gleefully as he busted a move.

“You dance, Willard?” You asked.

He blushed a little, shaking his head. “Oh, no, no way.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “I don’t dance.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Me and my boys are going to push everybody back,” Woody said to Ren over the music, pulling his leather jacket right off his shoulders. “Let me see you and your sister do your city slicker thing.”

Ren jogged over to usher you in with him and you happily obliged.

“Number 24,” Ren said and you nodded.

You both fell into a dance you’d choreographed together back in Boston, moving easily to the beat and doing your “city slicker thing.”

You shared a quick glance, a silent communication, before you both ran up and backflipped off the edge of a blue pickup sitting on the edge of the dance area.

The crowd cheered.

You laughed, falling into freestyle mode with the others as Ren walked over to dance by Ariel (who looked eager to receive the basically lap dance he was offering).

You felt alive for the first time since your mom. You missed dancing.

That was until you spotted Ariel and Ren grinding on each other shamelessly.

“Oh, gross,” you said, turning away and spotting Willard, who was already looking at you.

You flicked your head, gesturing for him to come join you.

He just shook his head and saluted you with his coke cup.

You sighed and walked over to where he was gathered with Woody, his girlfriend, and Rusty.

“Mind if I have a sip of that?” You asked Willard.

“Oh, uh, sure,” he replied, handing you his cup. “That was some pretty good dancing out there.”

“How would you know, you don’t dance,” you joked.

“I got two eyes, don’t I?” He asked, grinning right back at you.

You two were leaned so close you felt his breath on your face. It made your stomach flutter.

“Y/N, I was wondering-”

“You can put on a show for that guy, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna.”

You both looked over to find Ren walking up to the group.

You and Willard leaned away from each other.

Ren’s jaw was so tight you thought he might crack his teeth. 

“That guy block your boner?” You joked, referencing a joke Willard made a few days ago.

“Shut up,” he replied, shoving your head away jokingly.

Suddenly, the music cut out and Claude came over the loud speaker. “Attention, Attention. Ariel Moore, will you please come up to the front of the diner, your daddy is here for you.”

The crowd sniggered and laughed as “daddy’s girl” stomped her way up to the diner.

“Show’s over,” she said as she passed your group.

Your face contorted.

“Daddy’s gonna take her out to the woodshed,” Willard said.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means she’s in deep shit.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. 

“Come on, loverboy,” you said, shoving your brother. “Let’s get home before we get picked up by the law at ten o’ one. Oh, and Willard,”

The boy in questioned looked up at you.

“We can finish our conversation tomorrow, okay?”

He smiled. “Yeah, alright,”

You grinned back and turned away from him.

Ren’s eyes narrowed at you. “What was that all about?”

You shrugged. “Nothing. Willard and I were having a conversation while you were feeling up the preacher’s daughter.”

“I was not feeling her up,”

“Oh, please, Ren, the whole parking lot could tell,” You replied, sipping the last of Willard’s drink you’d never given back. “You’re practically throwing yourself at her.”

“I was just dancing,” Ren retorted, pulling open the door to the bug.

“Funny, you never dance like that with me.”

“That’s because-” Ren huffed dramatically. “You know what, this conversation’s over.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” you replied, getting in the passenger side. “Can I pick the music?”

“Can you ever pick the music?”

“No?”

“There’s your answer.”

You rolled your eyes as Ren picked “dancing in the dark” by Bruce Springsteen for the ride home.

You turned to look out the window, noticing Willard in the rearview talking to Woody.

You smiled. This town might suck, but Willard makes it more bearable. 

[istadris]

A Paperinik fic idea :

Some rich guy offers a very big reward for anyone uncovering PK's secret identity. Usually Scrooge doesn't give a flap about Paperinik, except to shake his cane at him when he's on the wrong end of PK's shenanigans, or when he asks Donald to pass a message to his friend . But now, a reward?? A BIG reward ?? $w$ NOW we're talking!

So Scrooge embarks on a mission to find out PK's identity, while Donald, who heard about it, panicks and goes on to try and sabotage every attempt; especially when Scrooge gets his hand on a photo that proves clearly Donald is Paperinik. I can't decide if it would take place in regular PK or PKNA continuity, but in PKNA, even Uno can't stop Scrooge (and he can't delete the photo as it's not digitalised). Donald's bad luck strikes full force in this story : hijinks ensue, whacky race between Scrooge hellbent on getting this picture and Donald trying to stop him without gving himself away, either as Paperinik or by staying hidden while putting banana peels on the street (and slipping on them) .

They both reach at the same time the building where Scrooge is supposed to give the picture in a sealed envelope (he hasn't had time to check it himself), and of course Scrooge realises Donald has been sabotaging him.

"Yoo good for nothing nephew, you can't help but cost me time and money! If you want the reward, you have to earn it!"

"I don't care about the reward! Please, Uncle Scrooge, you can't give this photo!"

"And why not?"

"I..."

It's the closest Donald has ever been to reveal his secret identity to Scrooge, but he can't, even now, and he's just staring beggingly at Scrooge. Scrooge who glares back at him. But who has seen Donald beg and whine his way out of many situations. He knows how petulant, lazy, angry Donald looks. This...this is different. This is Donald being desperate.

"Please. If you do it, this...this will change everything for Paperinik. And for me."

Scrooge wavers, then seels himself.

"Out of my way, nephew, I've had a long day," before he pushes Donald out of the way.

Once Scrooge is inside the building and as he climbs up, however...he hears people talking about the situation; how Paperinik's identity will be broadcast on all televisions in the evening.

"Man, I can't wait to see who it is!"

"Yeah, with all the damage he's caused before, he's bound to have so many angry people after him!"

"I wonder where he lives?"

"You think he got any family ? A wife, kids?"

"Nah, this lunatic works alone, I bet he doesn't have a home to return to!"

"Imagine the look on his friends's face if he turns out to be just some average lame-o"

Etc etc

As Scrooge climbs up the stairs, we cut to several people waiting impatiently in front of their TV: friends and family of Donald, Donald himself being utterly depressed in his lair (if PKNA verse, Uno is trying to motivate him to move and brace himself for the upcoming fallout), average citizens, journalists, criminals of every kind sharpening and loading their weapons... With Scrooge thinking back on Paperinik's pranks who's infuriated him before (the mattress! He still hasn't let it go!), but also all the times he's fought to defend Scrooge, and he keeps thinking about Donald's pleading eyes

"Please, you can't give this photo!"

"Sentiment doesn't make money, he should learn about it someday if he ever wants to make it far" he grumbles to himself.

And then. Something hits him. He slowly comes to a halt. Right in front of the rich guy's door.

"This will change everything. For Paperinik. And for me."

"Oh," he says as the door opens, "I'm such a fool. How could I not notice before?"

Cut to Donald watching the broadcast.... Aaaaand by some event which I let you imagine, the photo is NOT the compromising one, but it's pointing out to like, Gloomgold or Rockerduck or a Beagle Boy, which causes a lot of trouble for them but all ends well for Paperinik.

Later on Scrooge bangs the door of Donald's house open, startling him awake from his TV nap (all these emotions took a toll on him):

"DONALD! You better thank me for keeping your secret!"

"W-w-what"

"Why didn't you tell me Paperinik is your boyfriend?? You think I wouldn't have approved ?? What do you think I've seen back in my days??"

So yeah, Scrooge is now patting himself on the back for being a good ally but also now he's pestering Donald for never bringing his boyfriend home for dinner.

"If it's a serious relationship, Huey, Dewey and Louie should have a chance to meet their potential step-father properly!" He rants to Grandma Donald over tea and biscuits.

"You just want to claim Paperinik as your in-law, don't you?"

"Hmpf. I can tell you, he's an infuriating scoundrel but at least he has good taste."

"...Are you talking about Donald or Paperinik??"

[pendragon-of-chaos]

If requests are open can i request NNT Arthur and a vigilante (I believe is the word not sure) s/o who helps protect the town people secretly and maybe one night they randomly bump into each other on the way home and Arthur’s starts getting suspicious on what’s going on thank you and have a nice day!

I started this as a small scenario but it ended up being a little longer than the usual ones. I also thought I wouldn't be able to write something that pleased me, but I think it ended being better than what I thought. Hope you like it!

Small scenario: Arthur Pendragon with a fem!secret vigilante S/O:

"Have you heard the rumours about that one vigilante??? Who do you think they are? I wish I could talk to them some day, they seem soooo cool! Maybe I should be a vigilante too... Well, I am already a knight, but having a secret identity sounds fun too! What do you think??"

It was a sunny morning. Arthur and Y/N were enjoying a break eating some sweets, sitting on a table while talking about the latest news.

"I've heard about it. Seems like they are already quite popular within Camelot, aren't they?"

"Indeed! Specially within the knights. I've heard they are placing bets on who is the one behind that mask"

"Really? And who do they think is the responsible of all this?"

"There are different opinions, no one seems to agree with just one, so I can't really speak for them." Arthur shrugged his shoulders while taking one of the freshly baked buns on the table in front of him. "As for me, I don't agree with them either. I don't know, but my instinct says that the responsible isn't one of the knights... It's just a feeling". He took a bite and smiled at (Y/N) "If you ever have any clue you must tell me, ok?"

"Of course, I'll do my best to help you discover the secret identity of that vigilante, don't worry"

----

"His instincts sure are good" - (Y/N) sighed deeply, looking at the dark streets from the top of a poorly illuminated roof, making sure no one could see her - "I'm careful enough to not leave behind any sort of information that could uncover me and he still reaches that conclusion; guess I'll need to be even more cautious just in case..."

She looked back to the streets for a couple minutes, until a suspicious acting shadow figure entered an alley in between some houses. It emerged from time to time, looking to both sides of the street, and hiding again; until a pair of drunk men made their way past the entrance

"What a good night huh?" - The shadow appeared behind them. It looked like a big strong man by his silhouette. Not that his strength mattered versus those two people which weren't even able to mantain their balance, even less when he pulled out of his coat a bright dagger - "Now, give me all you got in your pockets if you don't want to end up worse than you already are"

Overcome by panic, the two men leaned on each other trying to not fall down, clumsily looking for their pockets and throwing everything their hands touched in them

"Y-Yeah sir, just leave us alone damn it! We didn't do anything"

"Just make sure to shut your mouth about this. You went home with no money because you spent it all on drinking, right?" Laughing, the robber walked towards them in an intimidating way - "Get out of my sight, scumb-AGH"

He turned around quickly, hand in his nape, rubbing to ease the pain of the sudden hit which came out of nowhere. In front of him, another figure covered in black stood still

"Going for the easy targets I see. Such a shame that you wasted your time waiting for them to pass by, I've seen it all". A pair of hands appeared under the cloack, ready to take care of the criminal in front of them

He wasted no time and, knife in hand, lunged towards (Y/N), who didn't move an inch. She was ready to counter attack, until a few feet away from her he appeared, behind the criminal, in less than the blink of an eye.

"I got him!"

A familiar orange-haired boy stopped the attack by skillfully positioning his sword blade near the criminal's neck in one second, and then disarmed him in the next one, sheathing his sword and laying him on the ground

"Arthur! I can-!!!" (Y/N) shut her mouth while everything happened. If she talked more than neccesary Arthur would discover her. She was also impressed with his abilities. She had seen him training but never using his skills in a real situation. The king looked back at her, still restraining his hands behind his back

"We'll take him to the castle's dungeons for the night and tomorrow morning the knights will take care of him. I'll gladly accept yor help with this task"

(Y/N) nodded in afirmation, and with a simple hand movement a pair of handcuffs appeared on the criminal's wrists.

"Much better!" - Smiling, Arthur got up from him, helping him to stand up - "Now let's head to the castle"

He looked back to were (Y/N) was standing, inviting her to come with him, but there was nobody to be seen there.

----

It was morning once again. (Y/N) was sitting at the table as she always does, having breakfast, when she heard the doors opening

"Hey hey, I've got something to tell you!"

Arthur took a sit next to her quickly, smiling excited to talk with her.

"Hmm? What is it Arthur?"

"I crossed paths yesterday night with the vigilante!"

"Oh really?" - (Y/N) put on her best confused face to not arouse any more suspicions - "How did you even manage to find them? What did exactly happen?"

"I went outside the kingdom yesterday, searching for some materials that Merlin asked me to find. It was more difficult than what I thought so I returned to Camelot late at night. While I was walking down the street I saw how a man tried to rob other two, and then the vigilante appeared to help them. But as a King I can't stand idly by when something like this happens, that's why I went to help them too! It was pretty easy, and I hoped I could talk to them after having the situation controlled, but they disappeared when I wasn't looking"

"Wow... I'm happy for you, but it sounds like in the end you didn't get to know who was behind the mask"

"I guess so, but at least now I have new clues. Listen, I think that the secret vigilante must be near our age judging by its appearance and movements, and they also know how to use magic. That reduces the number of potential people by a lot... Oh! And by their voice I think it might be a woman? But everything happened so fast, I'm not even sure. If I had a few more minutes I'm sure I could have gotten more information"

"Just a few seconds and he got all of that from me" (Y/N) thought to herself - "That's a lot considering you said everything happened fast"

"Right..." - Arthur looked directly at (Y/N) for a few seconds - "one more thing, didn't Merlin show you some time ago those magical spheres that makes you disappear if you use them?"

"...Are you insinuating that I am the vigilante?"

"Just a possibility, my instinct tells me you might know more than you tell me"

[klxudykai]

all 26 of my drs

soo as my bio says I have 26 drs!! and today I will be talking about each of them

in all honesty I thought it was a bit of a stretch to shift to that many, but who cares? the universe is unlimited so if I wanna shift to 3, 26, or even 100 I should be allowed to (and so should you!!)

anywaysss lets get into it

Anime drs

MHA - this is literally my MAIN DR. its the first ever dr I thought of shifting to and one of my favorites. I can't wait to shift there omg

MHA (fantasy au) - this isn't one of my top favs but it is def a cool one that I would enjoy fs

AOT (modern college au) - this dr is gonna be so fun I just know it

Haikyuu - volleyball is one of my FAVORITE sports so I already know this is gonna be exciting (I also had a haikyuu obsession ever since 2019 quarantine-)

★ ★ ★

Fame drs

singer - I always wanted to be a famous singer so this made inner 9 year old me SCREAM. I live and breathe music. all kinds of it, too. my playlist will go from SZA to Bone Thugs n Harmony to Billie Ellish and then to Deftones real quick

youtuber - this is another career that 9 year old me wanted. I've always looked up to YouTubers so I knew I would have a trip shifting to where I was one too

street racer - okay Im gonna be so honest and tell y'all rn I don't know jack shit abt cars- all I know is that I wanna have a hot pink car and blast flo milli while dusting a bunch of men in races (hot girl shit I fear-)

90s r&b singer - I love the 90s. the music, the fashion, all of it. absolutely amazing. that's it

band dr - I would love to be the lead singer of a famous ass band. I haven't decided if I was gonna join an existing one or make my own yet but one of the options will be happening

★ ★ ★

TV shows/Movies

hogwarts - when I first got into shifting a LOT of people were shifting to Hogwarts and honestly I understand why. it looks so fun there man

alice in wonderland - this is one of my FAVORITE movies. I love the weirdness of it all and its just so creative and calming for me. (I intend on scripting I live in a cute little cottage on a hill with my two headed cow because I have a major obsession with cows)

diary of a wimpy kid - I got one name for you. and that name is rodrick mf heffley. judge me I do not care but that man is FINE (he probably smells tho but I intend on scripting he isn't cause who tf wants a smelly man??). i also like the idea of being in loded diper

twilight - I've had an obsession with vampires and werewolves (ESPECIALLY werewolves) since I was in 4th grade so this move series and dr is right up my alley (I'm team Jacob btw even tho he's hella childish)

the breakfast club - the first time I watched this movie I was like "I'm officially shifting there". I love coming of age movies especially older ones like this so I didn't hesitate to add it to my list

riverdale - this series was kinda interesting tbh. I heard it got really wacky after the 3rd season though but I guess I'll find that out when I rewatch it (or when I shift idk). SPEAKING OF RIVERDALE- I had two dreams about shifting there and it was so crazy. like the first one was when I was in the diner with the characters and I was looking for my s/o, but I woke up before I could find him. and then the second dream I don't remember but I had the sensation I kissed someone???? so I'm pretty sure I found him LMFAO-

spiderman (itsv-atsv) - absolutely NO words for this one. I've had an obsession with this one ever since it came out. and I almost screamed in the movie theater when the producers hit us with that "to be continued" bs. also hobie brown <33

descendents - I was into every single original Disney channel movie that was released and this was one of them. AND I could be the daughter of Tiana like??? sign me up fr

monster high - these are literally THE monster it girls. it would be a crime to not shift there

total drama - this was the first reality tv show I ever watched and I was so here for it. they got real creative with the drama too

victorious - I LOVE arts. acting, painting, music, dance, you name it. if I could go to a school like this in my cr I would've already been there (oh wait I technically can)

power rangers - SPECIFICALLY the 2017 film. I don't feel like we got a backstory on half of the characters and its so disappointing but oh MAN when my boy DACRE got on that screen I almost hollered. this movie served so hard and it deserved a sequel badly.

stranger things - this was another obsession of mine and I couldn't have it any other way. its gonna be terrifying but badass (like nancy wheeler when she had that damn shotgun)

mid90s - this was a decision I made last week because I had JUST watched the movie and it was my obsession for a little bit too. I experienced a little home sickness (more like a lot of homesickness because I was SAD SAD)

★ ★ ★

other drs I thought of shifting to

demon slayer - this seemed pretty fun, but I heard that later down the plot it got boring and sucked pretty bad so I wasn't sure

kpop - I'm not 100% a kpop fan but I LOVE krnb so I was just thinking of making music like that but its still in the works a bit

avatar - I thought it would be cool, but I wasn't in love with the idea like I thought id be. maybe if I shifted to the first avatar I'd like it but idk yet

farm life - like I mentioned earlier I really love cows and thought a farm would be cool, but I kinda fell out of love with the idea so this most likely won't go all the way through

anastasia - this is one of the drs I most likely will still be shifting to because I just love classic Disney movies (and Dimitri was fine..)

ready player one - in all honesty, I completely forgot I intended on shifting there but its a fun ass concept

pitch perfect - okay but this movie was funny as hell plus singing so why not?

tinkerbell - this entire series was my Roman empire. they were my FAV when I was little and still are

10 things I hate about you - early 2000 movies are my favorite so when I watched this, I wanted to shift there asap

★ ★ ★

okay and I think those are all my drs!! this might be a little over 26 too but oh well LMFAO-

i really enjoyed making this and I hope y'all enjoyed reading it <3

stay tuned for more drs because i am always thinking of new ones to go to!!

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Kicho's Main Story Ch. 11 Part 1 Romantic

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support cybird by buying their stories. Spoilers under the cut. Expect mistakes.

TW: This chapter contains/mentions violence and death. Please read on with caution.

Kicho: "The disappearance of things from the future means that history has changed."

Kicho: "When history changes, the lives it spins also change."

Mai: "Oh no."

(So I'm going to disappear?)

I never thought it'd affect me in this way.

The pain that should've settled down returned, making me clutch my chest tightly.

Kicho: "Mai."

Mai: "Kicho."

He hugged me gently, and I buried my face in his chest.

Neither his warmth nor his scent, which usually made me yearn for his touch, now only become an inescapable sadness that tears my heart.

(I want to live. I want to stay with him forever.)

(But history has already started to change.)

I bit my lip as I remembered the rebellion I had just witnessed.

Just now, the will of many moved Japan in a big way.

(What the hell should I do?)

Bang!

Mai: "----!"

I heard a gunshot, followed by the sound of commotion.

Mai: "Kicho, that's..."

Kicho: "I guess they didn't wait for dawn to break to start the rebellion again."

Kicho: "The sound is still far away, but we can't stay here like this."

Kicho: "Mai, let's leave for now."

Mai: "O-Okay."

We hurriedly ran outside without being able to sort out my feelings.

(There's smoke coming from the other side!)

Kicho: "By the looks of it, it's probably on fire already."

Kicho: "Let's not go down that street. This way."

Mai: "Okay."

I took his hand and started running toward the empty street.

As we ran, the gunshots and screams echoing from behind us grew louder and louder.

(It's happening again, like yesterday.)

(Not just there. I'm sure it's happening everywhere.)

I couldn't help but frown as I recalled the scenes I had seen earlier.

This rebellion could cost many more lives, and then history will change, then I'll disappear.

Mai: "..........."

Kicho: "Are you okay?"

Mai: "Sorry, my legs almost gave out. I'm fine, so let's go."

(Now's not the time to think about anything else. My priority is to get away from here.)

Kicho: "No, wait."

Mai: "Huh? Whoa!"

He pulled me into a hug and then ducked back into the shadows.

Confused and anxious, I looked up at him and saw a hint of alarm in his profile. Suddenly, I heard something.

(There are multiple footsteps.)

(Maybe they're people like us trying to escape the rebellion.)

(We should go with them so they don't get caught in it.)

Man's voice: "Hey, we're here. Does everyone have a weapon?"

(-----!)

The words I heard caught my attention.

The footsteps grew louder, and a group of men emerged from a few streets away, each holding a weapon.

Mai: "Kicho, look!"

Kicho: "These are not the weapons that we distributed."

Kicho: "They probably gathered it all up themselves."

Mai: "They just said they arrived, didn't they? Maybe they're our enemies?"

Kicho: "No, they didn't seem to notice us. The ones they are waiting for are..."

Man 1: "Listen up. Don't take any chances. Beat up as many rebels as you can."

Man 1: "This is revenge. If you don't hit them, they'll hit us."

Man 2: "Yeah, I know. My gut is already boiling. Even if I die, I will avenge them."

(Their target is the rebels.)

The other side had enough force and people to burn down an entire town with the guns they had obtained from Kicho.

(No matter how you look at it, there's a clear difference in power.)

(I can’t believe they’re trying to confront them when it’s just a suicide mission.)

(They’re filled with hatred and anger that they can’t make normal decisions anymore.)

Mai: “Um, please don’t do that一 “

Kicho: “Mai.”

Mai: “Hmhp!?”

He hugged me from behind and covered my mouth as I tried to jump out, unable to resist.

(No, let me go!)

I screamed inwardly and desperately slapped his arm to appeal, but it didn’t budge.

(I can’t just overlook it.)

(Hate gives birth to new hate, which turns into violence.)

(Those who wish to live are cruelly robbed of their lives again.)

Kicho: “I know how you feel, but stay put.”

Kicho: “We can’t hold this place down. The spark has already been ignited.”

Mai: “.............”

After saying that, I realized I was just using my sense of justice as an excuse, so I stopped tapping his arm and squeezed it.

(I know. No matter what I say, nothing’s gonna stop them anymore.)

(But that doesn’t mean I can’t do anything about it.)

I don’t want them to die.

I don’t want to disappear either because if I disappear, I won’t be able to be myself.

(No. Don’t get emotional.)

(I can't do anything, but I can't just act selfishly and cause him trouble.)

Kicho: "I'll take my hands now."

He released his hold on me, perhaps noticing that I had stopped resisting.

Mai: "Sorry for causing you trouble."

Kicho: "It's fine. I told you, I know how you feel."

Kicho: "That's why I was trying to do what’s best here."

Mai: "Huh?"

Kicho hid me by wrapping me up in his haori.

Kicho: "Hey! Look, guys! The rebels are coming from the other side!"

Kicho shouted at the men in a low voice to sound like a different person.

Man 1: "What!? Where!?"

Man 2: "It doesn't look like there's smoke, but it's so dark I can't see shit."

Man 1: "Damn it. Anyway, let's hurry up before they get out of control!"

The men, re-gripping their weapons, ran in the opposite direction from where the smoke was rising.

(I see. It may be a stopgap measure, but it avoided an immediate conflict.)

Mai: "Thank you."

Kicho: "No big deal. More importantly, let's get going."

Kicho: "We need to meet up with my men and see what we can do to stop this rebellion一"

Kicho: "Get down!"

Mai: "Kyaah!?"

BOOM!

As soon as he hugged me and pushed me down on the spot, I heard a deafening roar.

(Cannonball!? That's so close.)

He hugged me tighter to protect me from the falling debris as nearby houses collapsed.

Kicho: "Guh..."

Mai: "Stop! Your shoulder is injured!"

Kicho: "It's okay."

After taking it all in, he finally released his arm.

He desperately hid it, but his face was contorted, probably due to his wound.

Mai: "Kicho..."

Kicho: "You can worry about me later. But more importantly, we've got a problem."

Kicho: "The road is blocked by debris. We can't go that way anymore."

Mai: "Then we have no choice but to take the street over there."

(We have to get through the rebels somehow.)

Kicho: "Don't worry. I'll protect you no matter what."

He held the pistol and hugged my shoulder with his opposite arm.

(Kicho...)

Mai: "I don't want it to be just me. I want us both to survive."

(The way he just said it sounds like...)

Kicho: "Yeah, I see. I guess I made you worry unnecessarily."

He kissed my cheek lightly and gently narrowed his eyes.

Mai: "Um..."

Kicho: “Of course, I feel the same way. I want to protect you so that we can survive together.”

Kicho: “If I put it this way, are you no longer worried?”

Mai: “Yes.”

Kicho: “Okay. Then let’s go.”

Kicho: “Mai, are you okay?”

Mai: “Yes.”

We ran out into the street and found it in a much worse condition than we had imagined.

Destroyed houses blocked the roads, and the streets were littered with people scrambling for shelter and armed rebels.

Woman’s voice: “Please! Someone, help me!”

Man’s voice: “Hey, stop...gaaah!”

(I can hear screams from everywhere, but I don’t even know whose it is.)

(Still, everyone is doing their best.)

Kicho: “We need to go in the opposite direction of the armed men to get through.”

Mai: “Okay, I under一ugh...”

Suddenly my vision blurred, and I couldn’t breathe, as if my lungs were being crushed.

(Not now!)

Wobbling, someone shoved my shoulder, and I fell to the ground.

Kicho: “Mai!”

(Ah...)

I let go of Kicho’s hand and instantly get swept up by the crowd.

I hastily tried to stand up, but something grabbed me by the ankle, causing me to fall down again.

Mai: "What the hell?"

I turned around, still in pain, and saw a battered old woman lying on the ground.

Old woman: "You must be the woman from back then."

(Is this the old woman we met in the village where the twins were?)

My body froze in surprise and fear as the old lady smiled eerily.

Old woman: "The village is a mess because you helped those kids."

Old woman: "You've been in cahoots with those twins from the beginning. You helped them bring disaster, didn't you?"

Mai: "Of course not! In the first place, you一"

Old woman: "Shut up! I'll take you with me!"

Mai: "----!"

The old lady took a dagger from somewhere and raised her arm.

Still having trouble breathing, I tried to run away, but my body had no strength.

(I can't avoid her. She's gonna stab me!)

Old woman: "Eeek!"

(Huh?)

When I opened my eyes, I saw that someone had grabbed her arm, and the dagger fell out of her shaking hand.

Mai: "Kicho..."

Kicho: "Why are you here?"

Mitsuhide: "Odd. I was about to say the very same thing."

(W-What's happening...?)

Kicho was the one who grabbed the old lady's arm, and Mitsuhide was the one who picked up the dagger that she had dropped.

A brief silence fell between us, even though we were in the middle of the chaos.

Mitsuhide: "For the sake of the stunned little lass there, let me explain in a simple and detailed manner."

Mitsuhide: "As you can see, I've just arrived with my troops to take control of this place."

Mitsuhide: "Would it make sense if I told you I found a target to capture and a target to protect?"

Mai: "Yes."

(I see. Of course, Mitsuhide has to capture Kicho.)

(Kicho already wants to stop this mess, though, so he won't be a threat to the Oda army.)

We don't have the time to explain it to him, nor will it cancel out what he has done so far, but...

(If we have the same goal, just for now...)

Old woman: "Ha, that's ridiculous. You're going to control this place?"

Old woman: "It's useless. Just look around you. It's never going to end, no matter what anyone does."

Old woman: "All these people are killing each other without knowing who their enemies are and their purpose."

Mai: "But..."

Old woman: "You've seen it firsthand. The kid you saved turned out to be a murderer."

Old woman: "Your pretty words will not help you here."

Old woman: "Ugh..."

Mai: "----!"

Suddenly, a stray bullet pierces the old lady's heart.

Her wrinkled face helplessly nodded as blood dripped from her mouth.

Mai: "No...way..."

No matter how much of an asshole she may have been, seeing a life end in front of my eyes made my entire body freeze, and my vision began to waver.

Mitsuhide: "Mai."

Mitsuhide: "We can't stay here. It's time to give up, Kicho."

Kicho: "Yeah, you're right."

Releasing the old lady's arm, Kicho quickly raised his pistol and pointed it at Mitsuhide.

Mai: "Why?"

Mitsuhide: "Oh? You want to kill me here?"

Kicho: "You said you had only one choice, and you're willing to do whatever it takes to achieve it."

Kicho: "Then I'll do the same and choose the only option left."

(Choice? What is he talking about?)

Kicho: "Mai. I'm sorry, but I will fulfill my promise."

Kicho: "I will protect you no matter what."

Mai: "Don't tell me you..."

Feeling uneasy, I hurriedly reached out my hand, but Kicho avoided it and just stared at me gently. Then he quickly turned around.

Mai: "Kicho! Wait!"

(It hurts. I can't speak well.)

(Please don't go.)

I could only stare at his back as he disappeared into the crowd, and the words I desperately spun were drowned out by the gunshots and screaming around me.

Mitsuhide: "Mai, calm down. First of all, you need to breathe properly."

Mitsuhide: "It's dangerous here. Let's move to a safer place for now."

Mai: "But Kicho..."

Mitsuhide: "I'll have my vassals pursue him. I can no longer allow him to do whatever he wants."

Mitsuhide picked me up without even asking and proceeded to go on.

(Why are we parting like this again?)

Until a moment ago, I was just feeling anxious that I was going to disappear.

But now, my heart was almost bursting with anxiety over what his choice was.

Previous Part╏Masterlist╏Next Part

[duyxjpg]

v e r s t a p p e n t o r e s c u e

Summary:

A calm night walk was everything I wanted.

Apparently god had another plans for me.

From walking down the street and minding my own business, to a full rescue operation on a tree.

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

After a bunch of hectic days in Monaco it was great to have a calm night like this one.

Many people were still at their yachts or boats celebrating deep into the night. A typical summer holiday night in Monaco I thought. Even though the streets and beaches were crowded, the night was still peaceful. Everyone was minding their own business. I stood there for a moment while humming a melody. Gazing through the celebrating people, it put also a smile on my face.

After watching the crowd for a few more minutes I continued to walk. The walk through the city pulled me more away from my apartment. I blinked a few times to register where I landed. I shook my head. I'd need to take the shortcut back home. I could feel a heavy tiredness taking over my body. Walking aimlessly helped me to ease my mind and body all the time and made me sleep much better but walking all the way back was not an option. I'd rather take the slightly scary shortcut.

Midway through walking down the street which was decorated by abundance of trees I heard a cat. The cat sounded stressed. I tried to listen closer. The sudden realisation hit me. It was a cat on a tree and most likely wasn't able to go down anymore. Searching a few minutes for the cat I could tell on which tree it was. Beside its yellow eyes I could barely see the black kitten. Sleep leaving my body immediately. Greta I thought.

"Well little kitty let's see how I can help you. It seems like nobody else is really passing by." I talked to the kitten. I looked around to figure out a way. It looked like there was only one way to bring him down.

"Here you are." I whispered to the kitten while trying to reach it with my one hand. More I tried to reach the kitten more the kitten got scared and moved further away from me.

"No, please do not get further away I cannot come closer I am going to fall down!" I scolded the kitten. I sight as we both clinged on a tree and looked into each others eyes. Cautiously I tried to get closer to the kitten and I slipped a little. I shrieked. Taking deep breaths I tried to tighten my grip. I really did not want to fall down a tree. Me hurting myself was my second worry. My first worry were my idiotic friends, they would tease me till the day I die.

"Hello?" I heard a familiar voice calling. I could not tell who it was but he sounded familiar.

"Oh my god, can you please help us?" I shrieked again. I couldn't hold much longer I could feel my strength slipping.

"What do you mean us and how did you even end up on a tree that high?" he questioned, he sounded amused.

"Can you please help first and question later?" I responded. "And if you did not notice there is a little kitten on the tree as well, a few inches away from me." I continued.

"Oh my, now I understand. You should have called for help you know." he said in a familiar tone. Who was this annoying but hopefully helpful man I thought.

"Well I left my phone at home mister smarty-pants." I responded back. I heard him laugh a bit. How annoying I thought.

"Okay, okay I think if you push the kitty a little more it will fall down and I can catch the naughty boy." he continued.

Since I did not have much strength left and had to trust the familiar sounding strangers judgment. So I nodded even if I did know if he could see me or not. I tried to tighten my grip once more and reached my hand out to the black kitten once more. The kitten hissed at me and stepped back a little more which caused him like the stranger told me to fall down. I hoped that the stranger really could catch the kitten.

"I got it." he announced. I let out a relieved sigh. I honestly wouldn't have the energy to bring the kitty to a veterinary.

"Now it's your turn." he cut off my thoughts.

"What do you mean exactly?" I questioned stupidly. I wanted to face palm myself.

"I'll catch you too. Just let go." he responded. Somehow I could sense his amusement. How frustrating I thought.

"I am scared." I admitted. I did not think much when I climbed up the tree I admitted to myself. The stranger did not have to know it, this much entertainment was enough for him. I didn't want to add more.

"Well you should have thought about it before you climb up a high ass tree." he responded as if he heard my thoughts. I rolled my eyes again.

"Well I panicked smart-ass." I murmured. I knew he could hear me. I couldn't care less.

"Come on, don't be scared. I got you. Just close your eyes and losen your grip." he explained like he was talking to a little kid.

"You promise to catch me?" I asked him my voice barely audible. Catching a kitten beside, catching a fully grown person was another matter. I took a deep breath.

"I promise, now come on. We cannot stand here all night, though I doubt you could hang over there any longer." he responded.

"Ha ha, very funny." I murmured. I slipped again a little and I shrieked.

"Okay, I am letting go." I panicked and closed my eyes and let go of the tree for real.

I could feel two firm arms catch me immediately. My arms find its way around his neck reflexively. For a moment I could not open my eyes. I was breathing unevenly. I did not realise how high the tree really was.

"You are safe now. You can open your eyes." he said with a calm voice. I slowly opened my eyes. I blinked for a few minutes. For a second I could not register in whose arms I was.

"Oh my god, I knew you sounded familiar." was all I said before letting him go and jump out of his firm embrace. He snickered. I was speechless for a moment. He did not hide his amusement, not even a little bit. He folded his arm in front of him and laughed a little more.

"I-, well I-, I mean I am so sorry." I fumbled around after trying to remember words. How was he real I thought.

"What for? You tried to rescue a kitten and I just helped out." Max responded nonchalant. I almost forgot about the kitten who caused all the trouble in first place. I looked around to find the black kitten.

"He is already gone. He was not amused that he was pushed out of the tree." Max laughed. I sighed dramatically.

"What an ungrateful brat." I murmured. "Oh and talking about gratefulness. Unlike the kitten I am grateful that you helped us." I said with a grin. I was still processing who actually was in front of me.

"No need to thank me. I am glad both of you are okay, though it was very dangerous what you did." he said with a smile on his face.

"I know, but seriously thank you Max." I whispered. I looked directly into his eyes. He was stunning. He looked even better in real life even in the dark! I knew that Monaco was home for many formula 1 driver, but I did not think that one of them would rescue me from a silly accident as mine.

After scanning him for an uncomfortably amount of time I cleared my throat. It was not the best moment to fangirl over the formula 1 driver.

"I don't want to cross any lines but if you don't mind I'd like to thank you properly. It's not like you get rescued by Max Verstappen on a daily basis. I asked him kindly with a hint of amusement. He did not respond for a few seconds. I looked around becoming more anxious every passing second. Maybe I shouldn't have asked him. For gods sake he was Max Verstappen. He probably had better things to do. I wanted to say something and get going but he talked first.

"Well after a rescue operation like that we both probably need something to drink to calm down. Besides you could explain me how you managed to climb up that high ass tree in first place." he grinned widely. I let out a laugh.

"I'd gladly reward you my saviour with a drink and entertain you with my heroic story." I responded cheerfully. He laughed and I joined him. His laughter felt like music in my ears.

"Great let's get going I know a great place." he responded, I nodded and we both started walking towards the place he mentioned.

With small chitchats through the streets and a lots of laughter we arrived at the place he was chanting about. That was a weird way to meet Max Verstappen I thought. I send my silent prayers above and a muted thank you to the black kitten.

After all the change of events turned the night marvellously.

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

Authors note:

If anyone ready the short story thank you. I appreciate it a lot.

After a looooooong break of writing stories/ fanfics I am glad to make a comeback.

My first short story after taking a huge break.

I hope you enjoy. I'll be around for a while. xoxo

[yalocalfanficaddict]

Do you mind doing a cute bokukiri fluff, they are just chilling with eachother cause bokugo and kirishima had a long day out saving people. ✨

Ack!! I'd LOVE to do this, thank you for requesting!! I am currently working on a KiriBaku/Bakushima one-shot collection that I plan to release in the New Year, so this will be perfect!! I will admit I am more of a sucker for angst, but we all need a lil fluff in our lives...shall we make it Christmas themed? ✨

Word count: 2896

His fingers are slow to move as he scrolls through their previous messages. This had to be the spot. Right? Looking around, he makes note of the street names and the landmarks surrounding them. Everything should be correct. He patrolled the city streets and even chased down the occasional villain through the winding paths.

Snowflakes melt against the glow of the phone's cracked screen. Making a mental note to get it replaced soon, the hero quickly rubs the phone against his pant leg before pocketing it. As breath crystallizes with each puff, he watches the snow globe of a world in search of a pair of warm cinnamon eyes. Children tug their relatives' coat sleeves, desperate to show them the toys they want from Saint Nicholas. Street vendors sit patiently with rosy cheeks and smiles warm enough to combat the frigid breeze. Performers on nearly every corner participate in friendly competition for an audience and a few extra yen in their pocket. Whimsical shades of reds, greens, white, and even cheery hues of blue and yellow decorate every surface. Trees are easily mistaken for twisted candy canes. Street lights glow and illuminate the snowflakes to be mistaken for pixie dust against the harsh night sky.

But no matter where he looks, he can't find him.

With a huff, he folds his arms over his chest to block out the cold that nips at him.

"Miri! Come back here," someone calls.

A small hand tugs on his hero costume. When he finds out who it's attached to. He smiles warmly at the little girl behind him. Pink cheeks and nose are pinched by Jack Frost, but it doesn't freeze the sweet beam she gives him.

Kneeling to be eye-level, he ignores the snow that soaks his knee and sends goose flesh throughout his body even more. "Well, who might you be, kid?"

"I'm Miri Unasaka! I'm also the biggest fan of you, Mr!"

He ruffles her hair as her parents finally catch up to her. "Damn, how'd she get so fast?" the man with black hair and tired eyes grumbles. "Holy hell, Miri, don't run off like that."

"Rei! I told you to watch your words with Miri," the other man spoke. His rusty eyes didn't match the pair he was searching for.

"Cut the crap, Kazuki. It wasn't like you were any better when you stubbed your pinkie toe," Rei snaps.

Kazuki pouts as Miri laughs. "That was different..."

He scoops up Miri and hands her to Kazuki, who hugs her dearly. "Thank you! We almost lost her, and it would've broken my heart if we got into the wrong hands."

Rei nods. "Yeah, thanks."

Miri ways vigorously as they walk in the same direction as where they came from. "Bye-bye, Mr. Red!"

He chuckles. The kids are so cute, in his opinion. Their little chubby cheeks and fingers, always eager to grab something, never fail to make him grin. The impulsivity of youth would make for a lifetime of adventures, much more satisfactory compared to the hero missions he takes. Alas, he'll never be able to experience the joys of parenthood. His life is too dangerous, and he would never want to risk such trauma to a child.

"Mr. Red, huh? Should I try using that when we're on patrols, Eijirou?"

Eijirou whips around and throws his arms around the man behind him. He can recognize that voice from anywhere. Especially the soft curse that slips past his teeth when Eijirou squeezes him tight. "Katsuki! What took you so long?"

When they pull away, allowing room for the puffs of steam to mingle between their lips, Bakugou kisses Eijirou's temple, warming his core. "I got you something to warm you up. It's colder than a witch's tit out here."

Eijirou snorts at the remark and accepts the warm drink. "Thank you."

Bakugou grunts as he takes a sip from his own cup.

The taste of smooth caramel and crunchy salt mingle on his tongue as a splash of the chocolate beverage singes his tongue. Eijirou quickly swallows to prevent further damage. But he ends up putting himself through a coughing fit as the drink burns the rest of his throat. "Hot," he croaks.

He tosses his head back with a laugh. "That's why you blow on it, idiot," Bakugou smirks. "You'd really think I'd give you something cold...out in this weather? You fucking need all the warmth you can get when walking around practically naked."

Nearly dropping his drink, he gives an over-the-top gasp with the back of his wrist pressing against his forehead. "Oh, how scandalous of me to wear such a revealing hero costume! Whatever shall I do to prevent myself from freezing over?"

Bakugou shakes his head with a beckoning arm. "C'mere, you idiot."

"But I'm your idiot," Eijirou sings while Bakugou wraps his arm around his waist. The insides of his frigid self melt when a low laugh vibrates Bakugou's chest.

"Shut up, Red."

As they savor the taste of hot chocolate, they also enjoy each other's presence in a way nobody else can. Eijirou secretly treasures each possessive touch Bakugou displays, whether it's a firmer grip on his waist when passing through thick crowds, a gentle squeeze and rub along his bicep to ease his chills, and tucking Eijirou even closer against him to prevent him from straying—not that he even would in the first place. Eijirou knows how much Bakugou cares for him, and he knows how much Eijirou cares for him. Plunging down into the spiraling depths of the Earth just to put a smile on his lips is a mere start for all the things Eijirou would do for the man beside him.

They are almost at the train station until someone twists their head and cries, "Ground Zero! Oh, oh! Look, it's Red Riot with Ground Zero!"

Murmurings spread, and heads began to swivel. In most cases, people don't tend to care that the second and fifteenth heroes are seen together. They run an agency together, after all. However, whenever the occasional fan calls out to them, it sparks something in the other bystanders, and they realize that heroes straight from comic books tread the same streets that they do. Unfortunately, Eijirou is too much of a push-over for meet-and-greets. Whereas Bakugou takes any opportunity possible to prevent being trapped by the adoring masses.

"Riot! Riot! Please have my babies!"

"Ground Zero, give us a smile!"

"Show us a cool explosion!"

"Hey, I was here first. Red Riot, Ground Zero, can you please sign my forehead? Or just anywhere?"

Eijirou yelps when Katsuki throws him over his shoulder. "What the—"

His voice is ripped from his throat with a silent scream and clenched teeth. An explosion launches them both into the air. Bakugou fires blast after weak blast to prevent damage yet keep them both safe from the people.

"Holy—oh my God, Kats—Holy shit!" Eijirou gasps, watching the clamoring people scramble for their phones. The citizens grow smaller and smaller while the pair blast higher and higher into the sky. His stomach flips as his heart leaps into his throat. Clutching tight enough onto Bakugou's costume for Eijirou's fingers to ache, he screws his eyes shut, rambling various pleas to not be dropped and for them to not plummet to their deaths. He manages a trembling pout when Bakugou emits a cruel laugh.

"It's not funny," he exclaims, clamping harder onto the pro-hero. "Warn me next time, asshole! You know I hate to be up in the air without warning."

"Eiji, we landed three minutes ago."

"What?"

"Good-fucking-grief, are you the deaf one now? I said—"

He peels an eye open only to be greeted with Bakugou's back profile and mounds of snow blanketing the cement roofing. The roof? Are we on top of the agency? Eijirou extracts himself from Bakugou, confirming his suspicions when his boots crunch against undisturbed snow. He's about to rant about ignoring the sweet fans but is promptly silenced with a kiss.

"Finally got you all to myself for once," he smirks, cupping Eijirou's face. It's a little awkward with his massive gauntlets in the way, but he appreciates the gesture. "Stupid bastards don't know when to leave people be."

"Well, we are what most might consider celebrities," Eijirou grins against another kiss.

He licks his lips, avid to kiss and be kissed breathless—senseless, even—in the frigid cold as snowflakes settle like dust in their hair and lashes. But Bakugou pulls away, tugging Eijirou's wrist, leading him to the door. "'S fucking cold out here. C'mon."

The door creaks open and shuts with a sharp ka-chunk! Bakugou keeps a firm grip on Eijirou, even after they step onto a random floor and await the next elevator to bring them the rest of the distance. The thick fabric works quickly in heating his hand, leaving Eijirou to wonder how much explosive sweat is collecting in Bakugou's palms and leaking into his gauntlets. He doesn't mind it, yet Bakugou must have sensed something because he pulled away. "Need to drop off my gear, then I'll take you home."

Eijirou laughs as the metal doors slide open. "We live to—"

"Shut up. I'm still going to be the one to take you home. You suck ass when it comes to driving."

He whines and playfully smacks Bakugou's shoulder. "You can't say things like that when you've gotten into more road rage accidents."

"That was one time, Red," he snarls.

"But it was one more time than me!"

"Oh, shut up!"

"Why don't you make me?"

And just like that, hands cage him in the corner of the elevator cart. Cracked lips crush him in a mouth-watering kiss. As if on autopilot, Eijirou digs his hands through Bakugou's hair, pulling him in and deepening the euphoric sensation. Eijirou is definite of one thing in life. It's that he will never grow tiresome to Bakugou's touch.

He giggles as he chases after the feeling, only to be left dry as Bakugou exits the elevator cart. "Don't get greedy, now. It'll be harder to savor you when we get home."

"You sound like you want to eat me," Eijirou cracks up, patting Bakugou's shoulder lovingly before leaning on it for support.

They're in the workshop, boots clanking with faint thumps against the grated floor. Someone flicks on the light, and only the necessary lights flicker with a steady thrum from the generator to follow. Eijirou grins at the memories of ranting about stupid villains as they fix their hero gear. The couple spends more hours in the workshop than they do at home. Bakugou has always been fussy with his equipment, especially. He always shoos Hatsume out whenever he gives the equipment tune-ups. Eijirou had one too many times almost meeting his maker when he'd leave out screws and washers near Bakugou's gear.

"What's so fucking funny?" Bakugou spits, beginning to unclip the gauntlets. The devices hiss and clack as they slowly release his forearms. "Oi!"

Between giggles, Eijirou placed fluttering kisses along Bakugou's working shoulders. "You're just so grumpy today, and teasing you is too easy."

Bakugou tucks away his right gauntlet before working on the left. "The fuck? I am not easy to tease!"

He holds Bakugou even closer than he thought was possible, burying his face into the crook of his neck. "Whatever you say, my little gremlin."

"I'm not some fucking gremlin. I'm also taller than you, so fuck off."

"Sure, sure."

●•●•●•●

The door swishes open, thwacking against the door stop as the hero walks in. Katsuki can't hide his grin, even if it kills him. The joyous sounds from his lover never fail to delight Katsuki.

"Kats! Ack—dude, I...I can wa-oh!" Kirishima cries out as Katsuki sloppily adjusts the bridal-style grip on him. He loops his arms around his neck, clutching onto him like the last buoy in a ruthless sea. "Stop! Stop! You're gonna drop me!" 

Fed up with his complaining, Katsuki pulls Kirishima closer to his face as he kicks the door shut. Their lips meet again for only God knows how many times now. Not bothering to set him down, Katsuki travels to the bedroom and tosses Kirishima on the bed. "How does a bath sound, hm?" Katsuki asks while he finally crouches down to unlace his boots. 

"That'd be fantastic. I had to chase down a villain and ran into a wall they constructed with their quirk." Kirishima laughs, beginning to slip off the winter top of his hero costume.

Katsuki inhales a sharp breath, shaking his head. "Damn, that would've hurt. Did you catch the bitch, at least?" 

While he dresses into pyjamas, Kirishima explains. "Yes, but no—"

"Yes, but no?" Katsuki interrupts, sliding a well-worn shirt over his head. The shirt in question is all black except for a dark red gear printed over the chest with two R's interlocking below it. As much as Katsuki bitches about how much of an eyesore the article is, it's one of the favorite things he owns. 

"Will you let me finish?" Kirishima takes Katsuki walking into the bathroom as a yes. "So, the villain was doing some form of unarmed robbery? It was bizarre. They had civilians trapped in a—a weird box he constructed out of who knows what. I managed to break them out as Jirou and Sero tag-teamed to keep the villain contained, but somehow they got out. Like I said, this dude's quirk was weird. Anyway, we got onto a pursuit on foot, and the bugger threw people at me."

He arches a brow, mixing soap with the warm water in the tub. The water begins to foam as it turns into a deep shade of pink, and the scent of cherries tints the air. "People? Holy shit, Ei."

"I know!" Kirishima says, clearly exasperated at the memory. Katsuki turns away as Kirishima steps into the bathroom and sinks into the bath. Once the noise of movement slows, Katsuki faces him again and works on scrubbing the jell from his hair. "I managed to safely get them out of my way, but didn't pay attention and slammed my face into a massive freaking wall." 

Katsuki barks out a laugh. It grows louder and more powerful when Kirishima throws him a dirty side-eye. "Sorry...sorry, but that's so fucking stupid. Did you at least use your quirk?" 

Knees pull up to Kirishima's chest as he sulks. "No..."

It's a struggle to hold in Katsuki's snort. 

"I managed to catch the dude, and thankfully, Eri was out doing an internship patrol with Toogata. She reversed my injuries, and that was when you messaged me." 

"That's good. Don't want your stupid, cute face to get fucked." Katsuki sighs at Kirishima's faint laughter. He loves it when his boy laughs. Or when he smiles. Anything his Kirishima does puts his heart through loops, strangling itself on its strings. "Anything sore? Need me to use my quirk?"

Kirishima hums in thought. "My neck's still a little tender, and could you?"

He grins, heating his palms just enough to not burn Kirishima. Kirishima groans in relief once Katsuki starts working his digits into his skin. "You do not believe how good that feels, Kats."

 Katsuki snorts. "You little sycophant," he snarks. 

"Hey!" Kirishima protests, going rigid before relaxing again under his touch. "Besides, you have no right to talk when you like being praised." 

Sucking his teeth, Katsuki can't find a way to argue his way out of that one.

After the bath, Katsuki leaves Kirishima to tug on some pyjamas. While waiting, Katsuki scrolls through the movie options and plays an old Christmas movie. He's interrupted when a voice whistles down the stairs, pulling his eyes from the screen. Kirishima grins, displaying his pointed teeth. "Really? Charlie Brown, again?" he asks, taking his hands from his pockets. 

Rolling his eyes, Katsuki takes in Kirishima's choice of clothing. He only wears gaudy candy-red pants. Simple patterns like white deer, snowflakes, and fir trees. "You really need to burn that abomination," Katsuki chuckles.

Kirishima shrugs and flops onto the couch, snuggling close to Katsuki. "It's not Christmas unless the ugly pyjamas are worn." 

Katsuki huffs when Kirishima begins to pepper his jaw and neck with kisses, unable to reach his lips from their current position. "You sappy dork." He sits up, yanking Kirishima further up onto his lap. "Kiss me properly if you want to pull that shit." 

Lips meet as suspires mingle between them. Katsuki can't get enough of the way Kirishima gasps and hums in delight. Brows furrow as they carry out their little game of chasing each other's mouths, determined to be the one to share the last kiss. Hands card through hair and curl around napes. Noses brush in tandem, fitting like perfect pieces in a perfect puzzle. Everything feels so perfect with Kirishima, and Katsuki refuses to have enough, in constant need of more. 

"Okay! Okay. You—mmnh...win, you win!" Kirishima murmurs between the suffocating dance between them.

Katsuki pulls Kirishima close to his chest and begins to stroke his hair. A proud smile stretches his lips. 

They sit in blissful silence, treasuring one another's silence as they watch the rest of the movie. Whether the yawn that escapes Kirishima's mouth is unfortunate or not, Katsuki can't tell. So he waits to hear another yawn that stretches out much longer than the last. "Tired, Mr. Red?" 

"Shush, we all know it's gonna be Mr. and Mr. Bakugou one day," Kirishima blurts, weary from his long day. 

His heart squeezes at the thought, ears scarlet. Katsuki ignores the comment and continues. "Whatever. Need me to turn off the movie?"

Kirishima curls deeper into Katsuki, shaking his head. "Nah. I'm just—I'm totally..."

Peaceful slumber claims him as Katsuki ruffles his hair with a smile. "Merry Christmas, idiot." 

I like how this came out. Did YOU like how this came out? I tinkered with a new writing style you can probably tell I worst motivation in nearly half-way through, haha!! I am elated that you requested this, dear annon! I'll have this posted on my Wattpad and AO3 accounts in case you ever want an easy access to read them again!! Also, YES I did add a Buddy Daddies cameo, I just finished the anime and needed to get it out of my system before the hyper-fixations set it.

By the way...@ao3-shenanigans, I am slowly but surely working through your request! I've been having a few setbacks and other requests flooding in, but I'll get to it as soon as possible!! Thank you everyone for reading!!

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

Woe to Tyrants

1 Woe to those who decree iniquitous decrees, and the writers who keep writing oppression, 2 to turn aside the needy from justice and to rob the poor of my people of their right, that widows may be their spoil, and that they may make the fatherless their prey! 3 What will you do on the day of punishment, in the storm which will come from afar? To whom will you flee for help, and where will you leave your wealth? 4 Nothing remains but to crouch among the prisoners or fall among the slain. For all this his anger is not turned away and his hand is stretched out still.

Arrogant Assyria Also Judged 5 Ah, Assyria, the rod of my anger, the staff of my fury! 6 Against a godless nation I send him, and against the people of my wrath I command him, to take spoil and seize plunder, and to tread them down like the mire of the streets. 7 But he does not so intend, and his mind does not so think; but it is in his mind to destroy, and to cut off nations not a few; 8 for he says: “Are not my commanders all kings? 9 Is not Calno like Car′chemish? Is not Hamath like Arpad? Is not Samar′ia like Damascus? 10 As my hand has reached to the kingdoms of the idols whose graven images were greater than those of Jerusalem and Samar′ia, 11 shall I not do to Jerusalem and her idols as I have done to Samar′ia and her images?”

12 When the Lord has finished all his work on Mount Zion and on Jerusalem he will punish the arrogant boasting of the king of Assyria and his haughty pride. 13 For he says:

“By the strength of my hand I have done it, and by my wisdom, for I have understanding; I have removed the boundaries of peoples, and have plundered their treasures; like a bull I have brought down those who sat on thrones. 14 My hand has found like a nest the wealth of the peoples; and as men gather eggs that have been forsaken so I have gathered all the earth; and there was none that moved a wing, or opened the mouth, or chirped.”

15 Shall the axe vaunt itself over him who hews with it, or the saw magnify itself against him who wields it? As if a rod should wield him who lifts it, or as if a staff should lift him who is not wood! 16 Therefore the Lord, the Lord of hosts, will send wasting sickness among his stout warriors, and under his glory a burning will be kindled, like the burning of fire. 17 The light of Israel will become a fire, and his Holy One a flame; and it will burn and devour his thorns and briers in one day. 18 The glory of his forest and of his fruitful land the Lord will destroy, both soul and body, and it will be as when a sick man wastes away. 19 The remnant of the trees of his forest will be so few that a child can write them down.

The Repentant Remnant of Israel

20 In that day the remnant of Israel and the survivors of the house of Jacob will no more lean upon him that smote them, but will lean upon the Lord, the Holy One of Israel, in truth. 21 A remnant will return, the remnant of Jacob, to the mighty God. 22 For though your people Israel be as the sand of the sea, only a remnant of them will return. Destruction is decreed, overflowing with righteousness. 23 For the Lord, the Lord of hosts, will make a full end, as decreed, in the midst of all the earth.

24 Therefore thus says the Lord, the Lord of hosts: “O my people, who dwell in Zion, be not afraid of the Assyrians when they smite with the rod and lift up their staff against you as the Egyptians did. 25 For in a very little while my indignation will come to an end, and my anger will be directed to their destruction. 26 And the Lord of hosts will wield against them a scourge, as when he smote Mid′ian at the rock of Oreb; and his rod will be over the sea, and he will lift it as he did in Egypt. 27 And in that day his burden will depart from your shoulder, and his yoke will be destroyed from your neck.”

He has gone up from Rimmon, 28 he has come to Ai′ath; he has passed through Migron, at Michmash he stores his baggage; 29 they have crossed over the pass, at Geba they lodge for the night; Ramah trembles, Gib′e-ah of Saul has fled. 30 Cry aloud, O daughter of Gallim! Hearken, O La′ishah! Answer her, O An′athoth! 31 Madme′nah is in flight, the inhabitants of Gebim flee for safety. 32 This very day he will halt at Nob, he will shake his fist at the mount of the daughter of Zion, the hill of Jerusalem.

33 Behold, the Lord, the Lord of hosts will lop the boughs with terrifying power; the great in height will be hewn down, and the lofty will be brought low. 34 He will cut down the thickets of the forest with an axe, and Lebanon with its majestic trees will fall. — Isaiah 10 | Revised Standard Version (RSV) Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright © 1946, 1952, and 1971 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. All rights reserved. Cross References: Genesis 10:10; Exodus 5:14; Exodus 14:16; Numbers 11:1; Joshua 18:24-25; Joshua 21:18; Judges 18:21; 1 Samuel 21:1; 2 Kings 18:33; 2 Kings 19:22-23; 2 Kings 19:25; 2 Kings 19:31; 2 Chronicles 14:11; Psalm 58:2; Psalm 78:31; Psalm 81:6; Psalm 94:6; Isaiah 2:8; Isaiah 5:4; Isaiah 5:15; Isaiah 5:25; Isaiah 7:3; Isaiah 10:5; Isaiah 10:30; Isaiah 14:6; Isaiah 21:17; Isaiah 28:22; Isaiah 32:19; Jeremiah 9:23; Jeremiah 22:7; Luke 19:44; Acts 2:23-24; Romans 9:20; Romans 9:27-28