#firearms instructor

[constant-gunfire]

Trump promises to sign Concealed Carry Reciprocity

[historyofguns]

The article "Using a Vehicle for Cover in a Gunfight" by Hunt Fish Shoot on The Armory Life discusses the importance and techniques of using a vehicle as cover during a gunfight. It stresses that while concealment merely hides an individual's profile, true cover offers protection from gunfire, and using a vehicle's various parts provides different levels of cover. The article advises getting out of the car quickly in a gunfight, using the engine block, and areas with more material, like the "B" pillars and wheels, as cover. It cautions against relying on doors for protection as they generally only offer concealment. The piece provides practical tips for positioning oneself around a vehicle to maximize protection and reminds the reader to stay mobile during such dangerous situations. The article highlights the cooperation with TrueShot for ammunition used in the tutorial and invites readers to discuss further on The Armory Life Forum.

[pribblingg]

went shooting on Saturday for the first time ever -- reinforced my belief the ABSOLUTELY NO AVERAGE CIVILIAN should have access to a semi automatic assault rifle

[df6fire]

MASTER FIREARM SKILLS: LOUISIANA CONCEALED CARRY PERMITS & BEST FIREARMS INSTRUCTOR CERTIFICATION

Louisiana is a shining light for professionals and hobbyists looking for the best firearms instruction in the heart of the South. Louisiana is becoming a center for those who want to become proficient with firearms since the state's laws requiring safe gun ownership are becoming more and more stringent. The fundamentals of guns instruction in Louisiana will be covered in this article, with special attention on the state's concealed carry permit courses and the routes to becoming a certified firearms instructor—a title held in high regard—who can instruct firearms to the highest standard.

[mirathebookworm]

Firearms Instructor! Terry Richmond X Black!FEM! Reader SMUT

A/N: MDNI !!!!! Okay after a long and annoying process of getting through writer’s block I’m putting out part 1 today. So just a brief summary of our two love birds. Just so y'all are forewarned Terry is going to be a bit mean in this, but a bit more condescending than mean, but nothing too crazy. However if degradation and slapping (Just firm taps) ain't your thing please exit stage left respectfully. Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

Kinks : BDSM, DOM/SUB Dynamics , Daddy Kink, Spitting, Hair pulling, Slapping, Mentions of Praying/ Religion, P in V, Rawdogging ( They went and got tested 2 weeks prior), Slightly Mean! Terry, Mean! Reader, Bratty! Reader, Brat tamer! Terry, Ass eating ( Fem receiving) , Breeding kink, Both Terry and Reader are mischievous LOL, Rough sex, Pussy eating, Dirty talk ( It gets Filthy yall seriously), Swearing, Family issues, Alcohol Consumption, Throat fucking. Terry and Reader are both Ex-military.

Terrance Richmond was a thorn in your left tit and everyone knew it. He just had this air about him that you just couldn’t stand. He was intelligent,charismatic and so damn good looking and intimidating. You were by no means a virgin, but there was this tiny piece of your brain that told you that he wasn’t to be played with. “You should never be distracted on the range, you know better.” There it was that spark in your brain that just clicked. You stepped back a bit as you zoned back in. You put your firearm on safety and did the proper procedure to safely unload and put your gun away. You did it as easily as brushing your teeth. You grabbed your case and bag as you walked towards the exit. You noticed the range was empty and two were alone. “You’re right, I apologize.” As you brushed past him. “ Oh, can't you even look me in the eye? Hm no respect these days.”You blinked he was doing it again. Taunting you. You could also feel him smirking from where you stood.” Did I not fucking apologize? Stop talking to me!” You yelled but then you bristled up like a cat before you felt him press up against your back. You gasped still not used to him being this andclose, this feeling not unfamiliar to you. You two had been at this ”game” since he opened this place 2 years ago. “ What's wrong?” He studied you silently as he towered over you. “ You’re a bit calmer than this , yes?” He raised an almost perfect eyebrow waiting for your response. You took a deep breath and titled your head up so that you were looking directly in his pretty eyes. “ You’re handsome, you know that?” He grinned at you and you grinned internally. “ Don’t, be honest now.” You sighed as he kissed your forehead and instantly relaxed. He hated that you were always tense and “on”. “I’m stressed.” “About?” “ Graduating soon brother’s giving me a hard time.” Now Terry was a sensible man he knew not to overstep. He knew you didn't play about family , especially not about your older sister. You always joked about being your sister’s “Guard dog”. It irked him how you referred to yourself in that way. “Mmm may I offer a suggestion?” You nodded as he rested his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist. “ How about I close up and we go back to mine and I rub your feet, feed you your favorite ice cream while we watch ATLA . I will run you a bath and if you continue to be good I’ll consider thinking about letting you cum.” He pulled away and grabbed your hand as you both made your way out of the building.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

Jobs I think the Phantom Troupe would have in the modern day if they weren’t crazy and clinically insane!!! (Love them for that though)

———

Chrollo - Actor. The guy is canonically a theater kid, literally what else do you expect from him?

Runner ups: CEO, writer

———

Nobunaga - Model. His hair is literally perfect, he would 100% model for some sort of hair care company.

Runner ups: TikToker (prolly shows off his sword or something. no, not that sort of sword, you dirty minded weirdo.), wanders around from job to job

———

Feitan - Ghost Hunter. Only did it because he found it funny, plus he isn’t scared of these supernatural things.

Runner ups: Haunted House worker, crime investigator

———

Machi - Seamstress. Her whole Nen ability is literally centered around sewing, and she seems good at it too.

Runner ups: Nurse, Receptionist

———

Hisoka - Circus clown. Need I say more?

Runner ups: entertainer (actor, singer), model

———

Phinks - Gym Teacher. He’s that one gym teacher who literally no one hates and actually played good music.

Runner ups: gym trainer, boxer

———

Shalnark - Hacker + Video Game Creator. This guy is literally obsessed with electronics, be so fr here.

Runner ups: Customer Service Job, manager of some random Target in the middle of nowhere

———

Franklin - Firearms Instructor. He literally has a Nen ability dedicated to firearms, he is DEVOTED😭

Runner ups: jobless, wanders from job to job

———

Shizuku - Model. Considering how far of lengths the Mobage Card Game + anime + Togashi go just to show off Shizuku’s body, there’s no other explanation.

Runner ups: student, McDonald’s Drive Thru worker

———

Pakunoda - Makeup + Manicure artist. She works independently and helps girls get ready for prom/homecoming/graduation/parties.

Runner ups: model, waitress

———

Bonolenov - Museum Guide. Wants to honor the history of other cultures just like how he honors his own.

Runner ups: jobless, homeless

———

Uvogin - Wrestler. Literally what else would he be? With that 8’6 ass body, it’s basically the only option.

Runner ups: boxer, basketball player

———

Kortopi: a mop idk

[kittykatninja321]

ok I’m gonna be delusional for a second. Talia as Jason’s firearm instructor

[kaszuma]

Mockery | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 0 of “Certainly Yours”

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader

summary: Mina Ashiro needed a team. But the moment she found one, she was at a loss at what to do when her Vice Captain and Lead Technician got off on the wrong foot.

warnings: Slight Kn8 B-side Manga Spoilers, Mentions of Soshiro struggling with self-worth, Mentions of slight animosity between you and Soshiro but nothing too major, First-time meeting, Mentions very few graphic depictions of slaying Kaiju.

wc: 9,712

–

note: Hello! Sorry for the long wait.

I originally planned to write Part 7 first. but decided to write Part 0 as a special chapter since I've hit a hundred followers. But by the time I finished, we hit 150. Thank you lots!!

There is less romance on this one, since it's a prequel to Part 1 of Certainly Yours. I originally wanted to incorporate a rivalry or an initial animosity between reader and Soshiro. So this was my best attempt on the subject.

There is a lot more interaction and inner pining because it's still in the initial stages in the relationship. And I had a difficult time cross referencing B-side manga with the things I've already written thus far. I’m disappointed we don't really have much information on Soichiro. And I have big plans to incorporate him in a separate part in much more excruciating detail later down the line. Involving jealousy..

Anyways. For now, I shall write Part 7 and give ya'll the comfort you need. Might be the big I love you's, you're looking for. Wink wink.

Also, please tell me if I missed any warnings. None of these are proof read and my phone lags really bad when I post 9k words worth of fanfiction.

–

The feeling of being needed was a foreign concept that Soshiro Hoshina had never experienced for himself.

The road that he paved himself had always been a lonesome one. Carved by the very callouses of his own fingertips. Where he'd dive headfirst into the nose of a cliff filled with criticisms and comparisons. The world familiar to him had always been accompanied by a sense of mockery for his craft. A sneaky way to bury his existence in the wake of the world that had been full of firearms and expert Kaiju exterminators.

In the face of it all, he had always been frustratingly average.

Not nearly as bright as the way his older brother had burned for the adrenaline of the battlefield. The use of firearms, specialized tools and weaponry that had been modernized to slay larger than life Kaiju. Had always been stacked against him. Someone who was not born with the innate ability to tackle such large threats. His use had been chained to the blade. One so sharp and pristined to the point of no return.

For as long as he remembered, it had always been like this.

Even before he had joined the Defense Force of his own volition. He had always felt inferior in the way his brother Soichiro had bested him in every sense of the word. A genius incarnation that had rarely been born into the Hoshina family's already impressive lineage. In a family who prided themselves as generational Kaiju-slayers.

By all means, Soichiro Hoshina was the perfect man born for the front lines. His presence alone dominated the field. Any Challengers he'd face would be a place where normal people would never be able to reach.

He mastered a variety of martial arts at a young age. Already flipping over instructors each time he was paired to a battle in an attrition of self-defense.

The sword techniques passed down within the generations of his ancestors, had all been perfected to improve upon his own. His sword an extension of his arm each time he wielded it. And in terms of firearms? Soshiro couldn't begin to imagine ever reaching the height of his brother's skill. The gap between them in terms of long ranged attacks had been far too large for him to delusionally think he'd ever make it. Let alone surpass.

And although their youngest was plenty good at the progress of his own swordsmanship. Soichiro was on an entirely different level than he was.

A genius, some would call him. A fact the younger Hoshina was far too aware of.

The dust he left behind when he ran forward was often a sight Soshiro was familiar with. Sweeping him off of his feet each time he'd issue a direct challenge with his older brother.

And although he hated to admit it. Soichiro Hoshina's existence was both an inspiration and a mockery to his own.

A frustrating truth that even he had no choice but to believe.

His enigmatic older brother had always been a person who was destined to become the Captain of the sixth division. And his junior of five years, who had not excelled in anything but his skill in close quarter combat. Had all but stood in his shadow, destined to live a much ordinary life as an instructor like his family suggested.

Not a single person expected him to keep fighting.

To keep swinging that blade of his which had been both a boon and bane for his existence in the defense force.

Each humorous jab, or critical comment directed his way, had always been replied with a simple smile on his cat-like features. Far too exhausting to correct the people who had never dreamed to understand what he wished for.

And even if they never did, even if no one ever believed that he'd be able to survive the chaotic life of killing a Kaiju with a blade alone. He'd fight tooth and nail if he had to, In an effort just to keep his style of combat alive.

Because swinging the sword had always been something he found extreme joy in.

He refused to let this be the written ending for his story. Refused to let fate decide on the path to his future actions. Not when his undoing had all been decided by his unlucky birth.

Had Soshiro existed in a different era, far away from Soichiro. Things may have turned out much differently, he imagined.

But alas, he was stuck fighting. Climbing the gritty stairs of progress. Dragging the heavy weights of his blades all the way to the bloody top. And It showed in the way he never stopped practicing. His personalized equipment had always remained in top condition. The sharp end of that thinly-cut mass of iron had always been razor edged and cut-throat in the way it was maintained. Not even a dent could be seen on the damn thing.

By all means the weapon he held had always been ready. Waiting in fact, for the day Soichiro would mess up and stumble.

And for some reason? Soshiro had a feeling that day would be today.

It was their usual four round duel. An agreement between brothers who'd meet up every afternoon at the end of their respective classes for the weekday. Books packed hastily in an effort to rush home so that they could clash blades in the open spaces of their house's courtyard.

It had been a daily routine at this point.

Often, Soshiro would be the first to come home. Dropping his bag onto the floor of his bedroom and rushing to wear his hakama which had been prepped on the foot of his bed. And the moment he puts it on, he shows no hesitation when he grabs an appropriately sized bamboo blade that he kept nearest his closet.

Soichiro, who was the last to come, had always returned home with his little brother already waiting for him at their usual spot. Stance wide and ready to begin their matchup.

And although he often found his determination awe inspiring.

The older brother was far too aware of his own blood's presence. His eagerness to catch him off-guard had been made clear. Always at the ready in the case he'd make a mistake so that he could close the gap in skill between them.

And Soichiro. Who was as equally as cunning as he is. Had always been one step ahead, at the ready for any of Soshiro’s practiced attacks that even he knew could catch up to him at any moment.

Genius my ass. What's the point of being called that when your younger brother was so close to surpassing you? His progress in the blade is abnormally fast.

And to Soichiro. It was utterly terrifying.

“Yer too stiff ya’ little wimp. How do you expect to swing and hit me when that stance of yours is too rigid.” Soichiro pointed out. His chin pointed at the darker haired boy's much smaller feet. The boy hadn't even hit a growth spurt yet. And at this point he had been much taller than Soshiro's current height. His little brother barely reached the waistband of his Hakama giving him an ample advantage in build.

“Tryin’ something new. Now shut yer’ trap and let me hit ya!” Soshiro replied. The same serious look plastered on his face.

And such a challenge is met by his brother's own smirk. “Quite the yapper today aren't ya?” He laughs.

“-Fine. If you managed to hit me once, I'll let you go at me for another round. That ‘a deal?”

“Don't even need to ask.” Soshiro smirks. And with quick footwork, the boy had already reached his older brother's inner circle.

His steps were precise in the way he wasted no unnecessary limbs in his movement. In three short steps he had been faced to face with him. The tip of his bamboo sword already pointed at the very sky. Ready to strike him in the shoulder in an attempt to have him drop his own weapon. A technique he had done plenty of times to Soshiro before.

But the braided haired boy had been quicker. More experienced for his age. Foreseeing the minor tells his brother would exhibit when striking his sword down. And he wastes no time, pouncing to the side. Narrowly avoiding the heavy hand that had almost hit him on the jugular. Where he knows would've hurt.

It was done in quick succession. Soshiro didn't even have time to realize that his brother had turned on his heel. His blade held with one hand, had swept the ground to hit his very ankle. Effectively throwing him off balance. Making Soshiro yelp as he landed on his rear. Sword slipping from the tight grasp of his fingertips which had not grown enough to garner a steady grip yet.

And he could hear Soichiro’s obnoxious laughter echoing from in front of him. Slapping his leg to try and calm his breathless laughter.

“Whoops, nearly thought you had me there didn't ya?” He places his free hand over his stomach whilst he slung his sword over his shoulder. Trying not to pop a vein while laughing so hard.

And the jolly expression on his face alone had made Soshiro grit his teeth.

“Hah!? One more round and I'll make ya’ eat dirt you big bonehead.” Soshiro had replied. Already scampering about to grab his sword from the sidelines. Readying his stance for another round.

But a little known fact about Soichiro is that his interests never linger on him for too long. Only allowing the younger boy a total of four rounds per day. No more, no less. Had that number exceeded. He'd spare no glance and show disinterest on entertaining the boy no more. And his laughter soon dies down.

“Nope, No way! That's the fourth loss in a row. That's ‘bout enough for today Soshiro.” The older boy shook his head nonchalantly. Fixing up the loose strands of his braid as he turned to walk away. Uninterested now that the battle had ended quickly.

“You coward–One more round! I ain’t done with you yet!!” Soshiro yelled. But he sees the way his older brother was already kicking the wooden sandals off his feet. Walking back inside where the scorch of the afternoon sun would not hit him. And mock reply he'd refuse much louder than before.

“Nope.” His mouth popped.

“Them's the rules, I'm afraid.. Now I’m starvin, let's go grab a bite to eat.”

He sees the way Soichiro had not spared a second to look back. Immediately making a beeline to the Kitchen where he knew a few snacks would be waiting for them.

But unlike the eldest, Soshiro had stubbornly stomped behind his brother. Trying his best to keep up with the older boy who had much larger strides in his steps.

“That ain't fair, you said you'd give me five rounds today!”

“I said I'd give ya an extra round IF ya’ managed to hit me. And beggars can't be choosers here seeing as how not one of your attacks managed to graze me at all.”

“-Looks like you'll need more trainin’ ya little twerp.” His hand had reached to pat him on the head. But Soshiro had slapped it away before it could ruffle the tips of his hair.

“Quit callin me twerp ya Bonehead! I'm not the one who's running away–Come back here so I can kick yer’ sorry butt!” He chased after him. A common sight for the household who often saw the siblings bicker with one another.

But Soichiro was too fast. The pleasant smile on his face remained as he grabbed a rice ball nearest the counter. All the while effectively avoiding the smaller one's tackles.

It had been a few seconds more before Soshiro would give up in his pursuit. The sound or his grumbling stomach made Soichiro want to laugh. But he figured he could spare the poor boy the embarrassment of pointing that out.

Eventually, Soshiro stopped. Grabbing a rice ball of his own, he chooses to sit at the tatami nearest the windowsill of their home. And with much delight begins munching on the rice ball with a fuming look on his face.

He hadn't given up..he’s just a little hungry. That's all. He reminds himself.

“One of these days I'll beat ya’ on the first swing. Just you wait.” And that sentiment makes his older brother smile.

“That so?” Soichiro replied. Sitting beside the younger boy who had taken large bites from his own food. And unbeknownst to Soshiro, a smile appears on the corner of his older brother's lips.

“Well, guess I should buckle up and train too. Wouldn't want my wimpy little brother here to get ahead of me. Now do I?” The younger one couldn't help but roll his eyes. Clearly unamused that his brother had taken to scorn him again.

“Train with what? You're already plenty good at everything else. Yer’ just being mean.” Soichiro couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's small pout. Already grabbing him another rice ball to hand to him, as a form of apology. And Soshiro wastes no time to accept his offer. Enjoying the fresh grains of rice wrapped in that salty seaweed sheet. A singular pickled plum had peaked from within the blankets of warm grains.

“Sure. But I ain't about to slack off and give ya an easy-win.” Soichiro chuckles. Though for some reason, his voice had been far kinder than usual. “-Besides…”

Soshiro pauses, raising a brow at his older brother who had stared at the golden rays nearest the open window. And a strange expression was etched on his very face.

“I'm willin’ to bet that someday..yer’ gonna find someone who's gonna need you. With or without that blade of yours.”

And he raises his head to meet his older brother's strange smile.

It had been a selfish, childish desire for sure. One that disliked the idea of his younger brother overlapping him one day. The sheer dedication and progress he had been making was a far cry to his own. But those words, he meant sincerely. And whether Soshiro was aware of that, he was sure that one day he'd at least think back on it as simply words of mockery to discourage him.

And he did not bother to correct him.

…

It had been a few years since then. And for some reason those words stuck to Soshiro like a moth with a lamp.

It was uncharacteristic of Soichiro.

Even after he cut ties with his older brother. He had always found that sentiment of his, strange. The enigmatic Soichiro did not usually go out of his way to comfort him. Let alone aid him in his training. In fact, he distinctly remembers all the times the braided haired boy discouraging him each time they dueled. Demotivated him to stop in his endeavors.

It wasn't uncommon for his anger to boil when it came to Soichiro’s demeaning behavior. His words, often echoing on days where he’d fail to prove his worth to the defense force.

And although he knew Soichiro was only teasing him. His constant onslaught of berations had made him think he needed to improve upon his flaws even more. His words of mockery, a lingering thought on the back of his mind that would've normally made a person give up. Had only strengthened his resolve. And his actions only lead to even longer strides of hard work that only evolved each passing moment he'd swing his sword.

So why was it that those words of his didn't sound like mockery at all?

Had his brother meant it? When he told him he'd find someone who'd need him with or without the skill of his blade?

It had been almost an entire decade since he last saw his brother. Who had gone straight ahead and became a captain of his own division. And Soshiro had just about joined the defense force. Hoping to prove his worth.

But that was easier said than done.

It wasn't until Mina Ashiro had walked in. Scouting him directly from the Kansai District. Offering him a chance to join the Third Division and rise to the top to become her Vice Captain. But even then, it had still felt like a blow to his existence who had been fighting just to stay in the game.

“I need your abilities. Will you join my force, Hoshina?” Captain Ashiro of the Third Division had spoken. Unabashed upon his entrance to her office. It had been one of those rare instances where he got to visit the Tokyo District. And he wondered if the woman in front of him was being serious in her resolve.

“Me?” He gives a wry chuckle. “Not sure I follow Captain.”

“You're a blade specialist. Yes?”

“That's correct.” He spoke with a weary formality.

“We can't overlook the possibility of miniature-sized Kaiju cropping down the line.” The Captain had spoken with determination. And her eyes meet Soshiro's with much the same determination she had when she first offered him a place next to her.

“When I need to shoot a threat, can I trust that you'll clear a path for me?”

…

Soshiro was frozen on the spot.

He was practically unable to answer her. Too shocked at the mere possibility of being offered a need for his skill with the blade. He had been forced to carry a gun with him before, and that didn't end well. Yet here she was, seeking assistance in a blade specialist who had so often struggled to keep up with entire platoons who had wielded firearms instead of steel.

So why now? Why was it when he resolved to only use blades did Captain Ashiro of the Third Division scout him out? Modern Kaiju of this day and age were large. Gigantic with plated shells that even firearms had struggled to pierce through. What good would a sword do in that situation?

And yet even then, he thought about it.

The possibility of fighting his way in the midst of soldiers who carried firearms and freezing rounds. The sheer thought of rushing forward and slicing Kaiju with the perfected combat abilities he had been polishing way before he had resolved to join the Defense Force.

But before he could resolve to make an answer, the door had opened. And you had entered the fray.

“Him? Well I suppose this isn't the first time the Third's willing to recruit strange people.”

Strange?

Soshiro had looked to the side. Catching a glimpse at your figure as you slowly closed the door behind you. Hands shoved to the front pocket of your lab coat as you walked right next to him. Saluting towards Captain Ashiro to formally greet her upon meeting her gaze.

“Captain.” You addressed. Right beside Soshiro. And you could feel his stares poking through your sides.

“At ease.” The Captain looks back towards him. “Officer Hoshina. This here, is the Third's Lead Technician. She's a weapons specialist and will be here to provide your support should you choose to join our division.”

The sweet smile on your face had not faltered. Taking you back to a relaxed stance as you came face to face with Soshiro’s own scrutiny. His raised eyebrow had been an indication of his hesitancy towards you.

Your eyes had made contact with his. And although squinted, you could see the glimpse of his wine colored eyes. Observing you thoroughly from head to toe.

You weren't exactly sure what was running in his thoughts at the moment. But his skepticism was met by a similar opinion of your own. Not entirely sure if he was as good as Captain Ashiro praised him to be. Though you had to admit, he was at least somewhat nice on the eye.

“I heard about you.” He tilts his head. Fox-like in his gaze. And a smile had stretched amusingly on the corners of your lips.

“Oh? Good things I hope?” He looked unbothered. Though in a sense that his kindness was only a front that he had all but gotten used to in hiding. Likely from your comment from earlier. And you had an inkling that he had a few things to say of his own. Sly in the way he'll word it.

”I suppose..” His reply was curt.

“Heard yer’ one of the few technicians that actually make Specialized Bioweapons, that about right?”

You nod. “Only for the strange ones.”

“-Ones that can't conform to the normalcy of standard firearms. Much like you, it seems.”

This makes Soshiro’s lips quirk. Suddenly very aware that your statement had been a jab of sorts. One he had gotten used to from his own division. And such a challenge was directly and expertly countered back in tandem.

“Well yer’ not so normal yourself ya’ know?” His accent had been made much clearer. And your eyebrows raise. Slightly irate in the way he jabbed at you. Though you let him continue, just to see if he could keep up with his own feist.

“-Heard you were the Technician that was kicked out for bein’ so stubborn to work with.”

And you had to hold back a wry chuckle. It seems his smile had a few sharp claws to fight back with. “So you've heard.”

“-But I suppose you too are used to that very sentiment, yes?” Your words seem to make that easy smile of his falter slightly. It was a miniscule comment, but judging by the way he had remained silent. The tension of the room grew weary as the two sparked a similar glare for each other. And although he found the situation slightly amusing, his displeased conversation had definitely soured his thoughts of joining.

Maybe the Third Division wasn't the place for him either.

What were the chances he'd have a different point of view should he switch divisions now? Your existence proved the very mockery his brother had implied. His Father who was normally supportive had not praised him for wanting to join the Defense Force when all he had was his skill in the blade. And the thought alone is enough to convince him otherwise.

Captain Ashiro's offer had been tantalizing, but not definite. And he has half a mind to excuse himself before things could escalate.

But as luck would have it. Captain Ashiro had been observant. Her intentions were never to have them be at odds with one another. And she clears her throat in the hopes she could ease the tension in the room slightly.

Administering as the only superior officer in the room. Who needed to take much responsibility.

“Sleep on it, Hoshina. We could use a close combat specialist like you out there.”

And whether or not she meant that. There hadn't been much time before an alert went off. A pin placed on his thoughts as he had found himself participating with the Third's mission to exterminate acid spitting Kaiju on the eastern side of the Kanto region.

…

Despite his hesitance. The thought of it still remained. And as if magnetized, he found himself willingly transfering to the Third Division. Somehow surviving a Kaiju attack that he had helped fend off with Captain Ashiro's help.

His sword. One he brought with him from back home. Had all been melted to the hilt. Its black steel had an unnatural wave of color on it. A result of his reckless actions when he remembered having to cut through the insides of a Kaiju's mouth. Saving both himself and a child from being devoured and melted.

Had Captain Ashiro and Okonogi; the Third's Lead Operations gal. Not hac impeccable timing, he was sure he would've been dead meat by now. And yet here he was, alive coupled with only a few bruises on his sore body.

After a few days, he had recovered fairly well since then. Deployed from the hospital after a back and forth discussion between the Tokyo and Kansai district. And he had finally gotten permission for his official transfer. h

His things were readily packed as he made his way to the bunkers of Tachikawa's base.

And just as he had stared at the broken blade, he had debated on whether or not he should've just thrown it out to get a new one.

It took ages to convince the Kansai district to forge him a blade. Steel that could withstand the strength of Kaiju skin. Or have a high enough melting point so that the acidic burns of its saliva and stomach were not affected by it. But that type of material was hard to come by. Let alone, he doubts command would grant him access to such weaponry when he had done nothing to prove his usefulness.

So even then, when he had been given the minimum necessity, he had been careful in its uses. Unsure whether or not his platoon leader would allow him to be given a replacement blade when he had so little opportunity to showcase his skill infield.

He’d likely have to ask Platoon Leader Ebina for a replacement. He had so few extra blades to spare. But the Third had at least been kinder to him than his last division. Surely they'd grant him better access to the weaponry of his choice, right?

Though just as he loathed the thought. His footsteps halted.

And in the middle of the empty hallways, nearest the corner where the sleeping quarters should be. Your eyes had met with his once more. The first time in a while since your encounter in the confines of Captain Ashiro's office.

“It's you.” You had spoken.

Suddenly aware that he had been staring at the broken blade in his hand. Unfazed by the heavy duffle bag he had carried with his other arm. The sudden softness of your voice had been unexpected to say the least. Given the last animosity you both displayed towards each other.

You walked closer to inspect the melted steel. Having already heard the report from Captain Ashiro’s latest mission. And for a moment, he feels as if you had looked almost displeased at the weapon. Guilty for having assumed the worst of him. “Looks like the acid's melted it down. I assume you have a spare?”

He nods. Sheathing the broken shortsword back in its holster. Making it look like it hadn't been broken at all. “That's right. Though I ain’t excited that I'm gonna hafta' throw another one out.”

This makes you smile. And his eyes had widened ever so slightly at the sight of your pretty teeth

So that's what you looked like when you smiled.

“Figures. It isn't very common for people to use steel against Kaiju nowadays. Let alone swords.” You spoke slowly. And this time, you see the way his mouth visibly frowns. A stark contrast to that usual unbothered smile of his when you had first met him.

“Well I ‘spose I'm not your common folk.” He spoke tight-lipped. And you cringe inwardly at your thoughtless words.

You hadn't meant that. A force of bad habit it seems. One that came from a place of wanting to help.

A soldier’s life, especially one that dealt with monstrous Kaiju, had always tipped the balance between life and death. And you had thought it reckless to see him remain stubborn when you first heard your Captain praise Soshiro's skill in the blade. Your impression on him, had made you think he was a reckless fool who did not value his life. At least not enough to learn how to handle firearms.

Though now, after having witnessed his actions through Okonogi and a few key witnesses from that day. You knew that you had been wrong in your assumptions. Planning to make amends the only way you knew how.

Your place as a Technician who could only fight through the weapons you made. One that you hoped would help people survive. Even for just a minute longer, just to make a difference.

“I didn't-” Your words were cut short. Not entirely sure why your voice had cut from the tip of your tongue. So instead you move closer grabbing the hilt of his blade from his fingertips. And that alone makes Soshiro tilt his head in confusion. “Here, let me have a look.”

And he watches you admire the weight and feel of the weapon. Staring at the black leather hilt that he had so often found himself gripping. Enough to cause a few dents in the area. Only further proving his dedication to his craft. But he did not understand your actions. Far too vague in deciphering you when he barely knew much to tell if your actions had been one of curiosity or just sheer brazenness.

“Do you…have something against me? Or is there somethin’ I’m missing here?" He blurts out. Unsure if your earlier comments were made from a place of ignorance or as a way to insult his way of fighting.

And your eyes had so easily pried from the blade and back to his face. Surprised that the relaxed persona of his had momentarily disappeared.

And for a second, you felt the weight of added guilt in the way you had addressed him earlier.“Against you? No, I-”

You sigh. “Not really. If anything I'm interested in you.” Managing to blurt out, almost frowning at the way you stumbled to admit that. Somehow that had been hard to say in front of his face.

“That so?” He tilts his head with a smile. “And here I was, under the impression that you hated my guts.”

You had half a mind to roll your eyes. Make another comment that might've irked his feathers for a bit. But you stopped yourself. Finding the smile on his face much more pleasant than you had imagined. A far cry from the masked practiced one he had adorned when you first met him with. And this time, you had made an effort to be more sincere.

“You've gained my trust.” You simply spoke. This time in a much more pleasant tone than you had anticipated. “I was wrong. I misjudged your confidence for stupidity.”

His eyes had trained over each other. And silence swept over them before you spoke hesitantly once more.

“I thought you were unwilling to adapt to change. But I see now you are much more careful than I anticipated.” Your admission makes him look away momentarily. Suddenly unused to such sincerity after their last meeting.

“Your skill in the blade is impeccable. And instead of being stupid, I'll replace your weapon for you.”

He raises his brow. Not entirely sure what you were getting at until you held the weighted blade with one hand. Unused to the way you had spoken softly this time. Almost apologetic even.

“You mean replace my weapon of choice?” He had assumed as much. Maybe you’d hand him a gun and see just how terrible he'd be at it. But you had almost smacked yourself on the head for wording things so vaguely.

“No.” Your reply was immediate. Making it clear that you had not meant to insult his skill in swordsmanship. That much was for sure. And maybe that had been the first spark that finally got through the both of you. That you had not meant to offend each other. Not this time.

“I meant–the material your weapon is made out of. It's barely functional, let alone made for slicing thick-skinned Kaiju. I didn't mean too.. yeah.”

Your words had caught his throat dry. And Somehow the awkwardness you had displayed had made him chuckle in response. Amused in the way you too, had stumbled in your words when you had so confidently spoken to him last time. He wonders if you were even the same person who'd responded with the feist he had experienced first-hand. Jabs and all.

Normally conversations like these would lead to persuasion. A simple comment to get him to use other weapons. To give up on his hard work with the blade.

By all means, he was used to the impracticality of his craft.

He was good with the blade. A prodigy some would call him. But his weapon of choice had not been suited for practical use. Often delegated as a Martial Arts technique, required to join the Defense Force as a form of experience.

But it seems he had forgotten who he was talking to.

For you had not been a very practical person either. A technician who made specialized weapons for the odd who would not dare conform to the standard way of fighting a modern Kaiju. And this time, he understood the words you had struggled to say out loud. Your apologies were clear, and you wanted to help. Even if you did look adorably helpless in trying to offer that option to him. “So, what I'm getting at is that, yer’ offering to help me. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cause I have no idea how you survived for this long with such a flimsy weapon.”

“‘Scuse me?” He couldn't help but laugh a little more. Finding your bluntness a charm. Your aura had been quite different from his initial assumptions. And it seems you were just a bold individual who was unafraid of speaking the truth if need be.

And the thought alone made him smile. Much more genuine in the way he realized he'd be faced with.

“Normally people just tell me that I'm bein’ stubborn by sticking to the front lines. But never that..” He chortled again. Finding the amusement almost breathtaking to stand upright.

And the sound of his laughter had been similar to the pretty bells you once heard during the peak hours of a windchimes's ring. Nice and genuinely pretty.

If he had laughed like that everyday, it might make things a little harder for you to deal with. But you ignore the quick pace in your heart strings. Rolling your eyes as if nothing changed in your demeanor.

“Oh please. I've seen it from the Operations Room. You're more than capable. But the weapons they've given you are…subpar to say the least.”

“-If you actually want to do more, you're gonna need a stronger steel base than this.” You had flicked your finger against the holster of the blade. And the sound of contact had echoed to his ear. And suddenly he is all too aware of that soft smile plastered on your face.

A confidence brimming in you that told him all he needed to know. A thought that you'd help him. To stick by his side and pave a way for him. Starting with a better weapon.

“And I can help you. If you let me.”

“Oh. So you're offering to fix my blade for me?”

“Even better. I'm offering you specialized blades. Ones that won't break so easily.” You beamed. And the sight of your eagerness had made him almost giddy. It almost sounded like a pipe dream in the way you had offered no hesitance in supporting him. It was a breath of fresh air amidst the many who had given up on him.

“Though of course, you'd have to rise through the ranks. Command will only authorize special made weapons for the strongest Officers after all.”

“Like Captain Ashiro?” He had spoken out of turn. A tilt on his head at the memory of her rather peculiar specialty. “I assume you'd want someone who can dish out firepower as strong as hers.”

It was no secret that the Captain of the Third Division had an unusual affinity for firearms. Her large weapon was akin to a cannon, fit to destroy larger than life Kaiju should they appear before them. But you had all but shook your head at his comment. Already one step ahead to stop his doubts from formulating. And somehow, despite the difficulty in reading him. You found yourself able to at least grasp a feeling of his inferiority. One that had been beaten down on his very body that had made you feel guilty at the words he endured.

The very same words you've mocked him with.

“No. The rest of the command can have Mina Ashiro for all I care. It's you I want.” You pointed to him. your finger squarely on his chest. And he hopes you couldn't feel the vapid way his heart was hammering upon its contact with the fabric of his standard uniform jacket. Eyes fixated at your determination and unexpected confidence in him.

“But why? Wouldn't ya’ prefer someone more capable in both long and close range weapons?”

“Like who?” You had inquired. And suddenly his thoughts shift to that amazing but annoying recruit he's encountered during his entry exams. One that he had formed a small rivalry with since they had entered the force right around the same time.

“Maybe someone like Gen Narumi?” He shrugs. Though you could tell he was hesitant in his choice of words. Which makes you chuckle. “The soldier who requested a ridiculously large bayonet? No.”

Somehow that made Soshiro visibly relaxed.

“He’s good but there's nothing I can do that can help him further. But you on the other hand?”

He raises his brows. Seeing the way you tilt your head forward towards him. And his breath is caught on his lungs, unencumbered in the way you speak your mind openly and in confidence towards him. Comparison did not exist in your mind. And from the look on your eyes, there had not been an edge of doubt in the way you responded almost immediately to his doubts.

“I'd be a pretty bad Technician if I didn't see your uses beyond that sword of yours.”

“So ya need me?” He spoke incredulously. And although it embarrasses you, you give him a curt nod. That makes a chuckle escape from his lips. “And suddenly I'm beginin’ to feel special since I joined the Third Division.”

“Well, it's true. The rest may not be able to see it. But I know it.” You paused. Looking at him in sincerity. One that he was not used to seeing. And he flinches upon your hand grabbing his own. Feeling the way his skin had rich blisters that had been replaced with heavy calluses over the time he spent training.

“You'll save more lives than I can count, and the only way you'll do that is if you're given a proper blade.”

“-Created by yours truly of course.” You let go of his hand. Hopefully he hadn't noticed the red tint on your cheeks as you looked away. And his laugh is the first thing you hear that makes you want to admire his pretty face.

“Yer crazy..” He shook his head.

Though more of a vapid insult. The smile remaining on his pretty lips had indicated it was done on jest. And for a moment, you were suddenly all too aware of how husky his voice had been, or how much taller he had shadowed over you. Or how much better he looked when he smiled.

And you find yourself taking a few steps back. The broken blade already slotted on your shoulder. Ready to take it to your lab and get a head start on designing a suitable prototype for him.

“So I've heard. But the Third Division is already full of that, don't you think?” And he couldn't help but nod. Watching the way you had slowly walked passed him. Already unused to the given space you had provided. For a moment, he wished you had held his hand longer. It had made him miss the warmth of your closeness from earlier.

“I suppose so. It's a lot different from the Kansai district, I'll give ya’ that.” He turned. Watching as you retreated slowly. And with a single glance, you had all but piqued the very last of his interest.

Suddenly, it was like getting caught on a hook. And he’s afraid he'd be seeking you out everyday. If he can help it.

If you’d allow it.

“If they couldn't make you shine then I'll make sure to pave that way for you. No kaiju is gonna break that sword of yours.” You turn around. Already taking a step forward. Hiding your pink face from his sight. Which he was admiring rather languidly had you not turned your head.

“You have my word.” You had finished off. And before he could even reply, Soshiro was left in the empty hallways of Tachikawa base.

The sudden absence made him slacken, who had gotten so used to your comforting presence. But in spite of his disappointment, he somehow found himself smiling on his own.

It sure is strange hearing someone say that to him.

Mina Ashiro may have been the first to ask of him. To request an offer for his help in the field. His assistance would prove helpful in the face of her attacks, which was made for long ranged weaponry. And he had finally gotten a chance to prove his worth to the defense force. By means of paving a path to slay the Kaiju that got in her way.

But you had been the first to offer that yourself. To pave a path for HIM should any Kaiju get in HIS way.

You offered him a chance to shine.

And he'd be damned if he doesn't reach that expectation of yours.

The one who had challenged him to go beyond a greater height than he had ever envisioned himself climbing. To be needed.

It wasn't after half a month later had he come back boasting the highest melee kill count from small to midsize threats of Kaiju. His actions ebbing a spark in the third's outlook on Bladed users. Inspiring a few onslaught of officers to join a few joint training sessions held swordsmanship. The Kendo match between districts has become a much more popular feat than before.

Now, learning the blade wasn't a simple formality anymore. It had been another path forward. And although only a fool would continue to wield a blade instead of the practicality of long ranged weaponry. Hoshina Soshiro had been that very same fool. He who pushed forward like a madman and insisted on using his signature shorthanded blades, despite the odds stacked against him

And Mina Ashiro had placed a great deal of faith in him. Enough to promote him to a platoon leader. And eventually a Vice Captain of the third Division.

And your eyes had never lingered elsewhere in his pursuit.

Often following his line of sight when you'd seen him train on the very confines of the training room. And even now, you had stared directly at him. Unable to look away.

Not when he had entered your lab with the unusual formality of his standard uniform. His star studded pin hooked on the left side of his jacket's chest. An insignia that had been a symbol of his inauguration as the new Vice Captain of Third Division's upper ranks. His title attained by the mere fraction of his efforts and hardwork.

And you dare not face him with such petty grievances like you had in the past. A smile etched on your pretty lips as you greeted him in a mock salute. As if to tell him you had been expecting this day to come.

“Took you a while, Vice Captain. I almost thought you'd given up on me.” Your joke had made him let out a chuckle. Closing the door behind him as he walked up to your place nearest the desk.

“And miss out on yer’ startled face? Never.” He had spoken more informally than you had imagined. Which made you drop the mock salute you had given him. Rolling your eyes as you moved to stand. Heading to the next desk over as he followed you suit.

“I think you're the one that should be startled.” You had hinted with a giddy giggle.

The correction made Soshiro tilt his head. A sort of curiosity washing over him. And you watch as he closes the gap between his and the proximity of your bubble. Braving to graze his shoulders against you as he crosses your side. Eyes magnetized in the way it had seen your pretty smile. “Oh. Didya' have a surprise for me? Didn't peg you as someone who gave gifts often.”

And you lean forward, nearest his chest. As if to whisper your little secret that you've been meaning to show him for a while now. “In case you forgot, let me remind you.”

Upon landing his gaze on the small glass case on the desk, you had moved your hands to slowly remove the top cover. Revealing the two refined swords around the same length of his arms.

The outer casing, its holster. Was tinted purple like his dark hair. The hints of military green had no doubt matched that of their Combat Suit's design. And it veered to life the moment his eyes fell upon the familiar insignia of the Third Division's logo atop of its hilt. A sign that this weapon had been his.

Well at least, he assumed as much. Judging from the proud and almost excited look on your face. “I finished your swords.” You spoke factually. “Just need your verdict on the matter.”

His eyes had widened. This had been a stark difference from his previous blade. The way it was made was measured perfectly to the length of his arms. The sword bent in a grip for just the way he preferred it to. And its tip? The one where a pivot was placed had been an indication that it was designed so that he could connect the two blades. Form it into one long sword, if he truly wished to.

That alone was an indication that this was likely not a normal melee. Made of simple bronze or steel.

No.

This was a bioweapon. Made from Kiaju to kill Kaiju. One that was only granted to the strongest in the Force. One that had been ready for his use. Built in custom to his preferences. And their eyes met, only confirming his suspicions when she had given him an awkward shrug of her shoulders. Acting as if invisible ink had occupied the space between their feet.

“I said I'd make you a weapon that won't break easily, didn't I?” In an instant, a hot flush billowed in his cheeks. Much the same when your normally hidden shyness had finally resurfaced.

The rare times it did, he couldn't help but stare. Far too enraptured in the gap that had swung between your feist and your awkward responses. And he nods in turn. Suddenly aware that you had been doing such a task so diligently to perfection. “I don't know what to say. I didn't think you'd actually make it.”

You hear him chuckle. And your shoulder had pushed him forward. Towards the weaponry you had made for him.“Go on, it's not like anybody else can use it.”

Soshiro had looked at you, hesitant in the way you had so readily offered him such a gift. Your words had been proven in the way your assurances hit his heart. And his hand had a mind of its own as it grabbed the hilt of the blade. Sliding its cover right off so he'd have a chance to see the refined structure of the thinly cut mass of iron.

One he had been accustomed to weilding since he had been born.

Though instead. He was met with the dark shade of a similar material. Stronger than Iron, nor any steel for that matter. It was a blade far too distinct to forget. Luminous in orange hues as if it burned with the same heat that had allowed him to move in the enhancement of his suit.

And it had been clear this weapon was far stronger than the rest of his blade. Bound to cut a Kaiju's outer shell much easier than his previous ones would let him.

And the light one that breathed with an eery calm had reflected his own wine red eyes on the blade. The very movement caused a sound cutting through air when he'd expertly move it with his fingertips.

A sight of which had glued your eyes onto him. Finding his stupor rather mesmerizing than usual. His concentration had not been a rare sight for you, especially when you had caught glimpses of the many nights he'd spend alone in the training room.

But being this close. Seeing the joy nipping at his face. Somehow it makes your heart flutter strangely. And you had to shake your head to snap yourself out of admiration for the man. Suddenly focusing your attention back to blade one which vyed for his approval.

“So, do you like it?”

Soshiro had hummed. The usual grin on his lips remained unphased despite the giddiness in his chest. “Mmm...I ‘spose it's subpar at best.”

“Excuse me? Rude.” He laughs at your comment. And he puts the blade back in its holder. Already placing it on the back of his waist, right where it belonged.

“I'm kidding.” He spoke immediately after. A laugh bellowing from his abs. Though your scrunched nose had made it difficult for you to believe his immediate reply.

“No, I'm serious. You've outdone yourself sweetheart. Never seen a sword this sharp before..” He looks you over, admiring the easy smile on your face. That and the nickname seems to have made your cheeks flare up in surprise.

And he had to remind himself to engrave that very image of you on the back of his mind. Fearing that he may never get to see such a sight again.

“Well say that first! It's kind of difficult reading your facial expressions, you know?” You huffed. Though the easy laughter of his had remained. And a smile soon replaces your hefty frown.

“Sorry, sorry. Is there a price I hafta pay ya’? You know, for making me such a nice weapon and all that.”

You shrug, scooting your way right in front of him where he could just as easily close the gap between the two of you.

Have your chest pressed up against his, hand gripping the plush of your lower back. Admiring the gentle way you'd likely stare up at him with flamed cheeks. But he stops, already feeling too guilty to indulge himself further. And your reply had been quick enough to distract him from any incoming thoughts that had pushed his mind to try and get closer to you.

“Only your help, when it comes to a few suit upgrades.”

Help huh? He supposes this would be a good excuse to go see you more often. Though the simplicity of such a task was a little more suspicious on your part. And he had an inkling you had a few things in mind that involved more than just that.

But then again. He couldn't exactly read you either. Not completely at least.

Not yet.

“Quite demanding, aren't we?” He nods.

You had rolled your eyes at his teasing.

“You're the one that offered. But fine, be like that.” You had crossed your arms. Already backing away, and you had felt the way he had firmly pulled you back. Hand against your elbow. Making you face him whilst he tilted his head in your direction.

“Now, now..I never said anything about refusing you didn't I?” He chuckles. And the deep rumble makes your stomach churn in small caterpillars. Ready to form butterflies should he continue.

“Wasn't that already implied?” You spoke. Aware of the way his palms had steadied you by the elbows. The hint of warmth against his skin was almost tantalizing to make you lean forward. But before you had the chance to, he let you go. Leaving only an inch of space between the both of you.

“Shh..” His finger had raised itself against your lips. Shushing you before you could make another smart quip at him that was sure to insight another bout of witty banter. One that he knew he'd grown accustomed to in the future.

“I was just messing with ya'” He laughs. Only confirming that he had been hooked indefinitely by you. And he moves his free hand to tug your hair behind your ear.

“Do you, or do you not want to help me?” You had asked incredulously. Already finding his musings rather annoying. But the way he looked at you had your breath caught in your throat.

His gaze, although clouded by the silent promise to himself. Had not seen the way you too had a similar look on your face. And whether or not you had been aware of this promise. It doesn't fail to make your heart pick up its pace. His voice was almost reminiscent of prayer when he spoke your name in a whisper.

“I do want to help.” He spoke slowly. And your eyes flutter closed wondering if his touch would linger for a bit longer. But his fingertips remained curt. Pulling back just as soon as it grazed your skin.

“And how do I know you're being serious?”

“All ya’ have to do is call me. And I’ll Certainly be Yours, if you want me to.”

And he meant it. He was sincere in his intention to get close to you. To help you like you had sworn to him. Use his skill to protect you, should you ever need it.

And somehow, he is reminded of the time his brother had spoken to him long ago. Back when they were kids, dueling with simple bamboo swords back in the peace of their own home. Eating those childhood rice balls in the afterhours of their respective schools.

Soichiro be damned. Because somehow he was correct in his predictions. His words were every bit of a mockery to his craft. And although it was a rare sight to have him be soft in his presence.

Somehow, that was the one time he did so dissolutely.

And now, it looks like he's found someone who needs him. With or without that blade of his.

And this time, there was genuinely no sense of mockery in the way he had met you.

He only hoped he wasn't too late.

[historyofguns]

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[justdippers]

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[marshallsgirl]

Hidden Harmony

Pairing: Eminem x Fem¡Reader

Warnings: 🔞 MATURE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Recommended song: The Slim Shady LP Album

Author's note: Hey, guys! I missed you so much. A lot has happened. Last year, I graduated from college with honors! And now I'm studying again. Yes. Sometimes I just ask myself: Why are you doing this to yourself? More study? Really? But yes, here I go again. And guess what...I watched the whole Peaky Blinders series for the first time! I loved it. Also, I read Dean Koontz's Frankenstein books for the first time and I fell in love with his writting style. Anyways, I've been working real hard on this story that takes place back in 2001. I got inspired by this: Could we get single dad Eminem who's lowkey broke living with Hailie and he goes to drop her off at school and bumps into single mom reader dropping off her son? I feel like that would be really cute! (Sorry for the anon I'm just shy lol)

Hope you all enjoy it. I love you guys so much! Sending all of you a warm hug🤍✨️

⚝ 𖤐 ✶ ✷ ⛥ ✴ ☆ ⍟ ✦ 𖥔 ✰ ★ ☆⚝ 𖤐 ✶ ✷ ⛥

Chapter 1

The aroma of burnt toast hung in the air, a familiar battle flag in the war against morning. Y/N, her dark hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, scraped the blackened edges with a butter knife.

"Almost edible," she muttered, placing the salvaged slice on a plate beside a perfectly round fried egg.

"Mom, can I have the funny-shaped one?" Six-year-old John, a miniature dynamo with a shock of unruly brown hair, pointed at the toast.

Y/N smiled, the hard lines of her face softening.

"Always the artist, aren't you, John boy?" She handed him the misshapen piece. "Eat up, we're running late."

Her house, a modest brick ranch in a quiet Clinton Township neighborhood, was a testament to efficiency. Every surface was clean, every object in its place. The remnants of her late husband, a firefighter named Kyle, were subtly woven into the decor: a framed photograph on the mantle, a worn leather armchair in the corner, a collection of vintage fire department patches displayed on the wall.

Y/N’s movements were precise, almost mechanical. She checked John's backpack, ensuring his homework was tucked inside, then grabbed her own keys and purse. Her Glock 19, holstered at her hip, was a constant presence, a silent promise of protection. It was a tool, like the wrenches she used to fix her truck, or the chalk she used to demonstrate proper grip at the firing range. She was a firearms instructor, a profession that demanded discipline and control. She taught others how to handle the weight of responsibility, the power held in their hands. It was a job that fit her, a job that suited the strength she had been forced to cultivate.

As they walked to the car, John chattered about his upcoming dinosaur project, his words a comforting rhythm against the quiet morning. Y/N listened, her gaze scanning the street, a habit ingrained from years of training. She’d learned to see the world with a heightened sense of awareness, a skill that served her well as a single mother.

Sometimes, in the quiet solitude of her bedroom, she’d feel a pang of loneliness, a ghost of Kyle’s presence beside her. He’d told her, in the last days, that it was alright to find happiness again. “Don’t live in my shadow, Y/N” he’d whispered, his voice weak. “You deserve love.” But the idea felt foreign, like trying to fit into a suit that no longer belonged.

At John’s school, the air buzzed with the chaotic energy of children and parents.

Y/N knelt to give John a hug. "Be good, listen to Mrs. Changretta, and I'll see you this afternoon."

As John turned to join the other children, his eyes widened. He pointed at a man standing near the entrance, a tall figure dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans.

"Mom, look! I like his shoes."

The man, his face partially obscured by the hood, glanced down at his feet, then back at John. Y/N’s gaze followed her son’s, and she took in the man’s features, a flicker of recognition sparking in her mind. He looked familiar, but she couldn't place him. She decided to walk towards the entrance with John, using the guise of a final goodbye to get a closer look, to try and decipher the elusive sense of connection.

As they approached, Y/N subtly studied the man’s features, a sense of intrigue tightening in her chest. The hood obscured the contours of his face, casting him in a shadow that seemed to hold a secret. Even at close range, she couldn't pinpoint where she might have seen him before, yet the feeling persisted, a gentle tug on her memory. It was like trying to recall a melody, a faint tune that resonated with something deep within her. She also noticed a little girl, near the man, and felt a warm feeling.

"Those are cool shoes," John said to the man, his voice ringing with childlike enthusiasm.

The man smiled, a brief, almost shy expression. "Thanks, lil man"

Y/N stood, her hand instinctively moving to her hip, where the weight of her Glock provided a sense of grounding. She watched the man, her eyes narrowed, trying to decipher the reason for that spark of familiarity. The smile, though fleeting, left a lingering sense of intrigue. It was a glimpse, Y/N thought, a fleeting moment that hinted at something deeper, something unknown, yet strangely familiar. And as the man’s voice faded into the ambient noise of the schoolyard, Y/N was left with a sense of anticipation, a feeling that this encounter was more than just a chance meeting.

Chapter 2

The kid's voice, a high-pitched declaration of admiration, echoed in the sterile air of the schoolyard. Shoes, he thought, a simple, mundane object. But the way the kid had looked at him, with that unadulterated curiosity, it felt… unsettling. The woman, the mother, her eyes were different. Sharp, assessing. Like she was trying to dissect him, to see through the carefully constructed facade. He felt a prickle of unease, a familiar sensation that had become his constant companion. They know, a voice whispered in the back of his mind, a phantom echo of paranoia. He glanced around, scanning the faces in the crowd, searching for… what? He wasn't sure. A threat? A familiar face? Or just someone that did not look like they were judging him. He wanted to be a good father. He wanted to give his daughter the world. But the world, it seemed, was always watching.

He knelt down to his daughter, Hailie, who was eager to join her friends.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, his voice softening. "Mom's picking you up today, okay? Daddy's got a long day at the film set."

"Okay, Daddy," Hailie said, her bright eyes filled with adoration. "Will you come see me later?"

"Of course, baby. I wouldn't miss it." He gave her a quick hug, his heart aching with a mix of love and guilt. "Be good for your mom, and I'll see you tonight."

He watched her run off, her laughter a fleeting melody in the schoolyard's din. Then, he rose, his gaze lingering on the spot where she had been. He gave a final gaze to the woman and her son. Familiar, he thought again, the word echoing in his mind. He couldn't place her, but something about her intensity, the way she held herself, felt like a warning. He was about to turn away completely when he heard a voice, sharp and clear, cutting through the schoolyard noise.

"Excuse me?"

He turned back. The woman, the mother, was standing a few feet away, her arms relaxed, but her eyes still holding that sharp intensity. Her son was gone, already mingling with the other children.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice low.

"I just wanted to apologize if my son interrupted your moment with your daughter," Y/N said, her tone softer than he expected. "He's very social, always making friends."

"It's no problem at all," He replied, a flicker of a smile touching his lips.

"He's a great kid" Y/N said, a hint of pride in her voice. She paused, a small, almost rueful smile playing on her lips. "But, crazy sometimes. Just yesterday, at the park, he told an old man, 'Hey, old man, I'm your son Pinocchio!'"

A genuine laugh escaped him. It was a sound he hadn't heard from himself in a long time. "That's… something," he managed, still chuckling.

"Tell me about it," Y/N said, shaking her head. "My name's Y/N, btw"

"Marshall," he replied, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You too, Marshall," she said, shaking his hand. "Well," she continued, glancing at her watch. "I should be going. Have a good day."

"You too, Y/N," he said, watching her walk away. He stood there for a moment, the brief interaction lingering in the air. Y/N, he thought. It was a simple name, but it felt… significant. He shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. Get a grip man, he thought. You've got a million things to worry about, and this is not one of them.

He turned and began to walk away from the school, each step measured, each movement deliberate. He needed to work. The film set, the studio, the constant pressure to create, to prove himself. It was a relentless cycle, a treadmill he couldn’t seem to step off. He felt the phantom applause of his recent success, a sound that was already fading, replaced by the gnawing fear that it was all a fluke, a fleeting moment of attention. He thought of the divorce, the constant battles, the feeling that his life was a car crash he couldn't escape. He just wanted a normal life. He just wanted to be a good dad. Just one hit wonder? he thought to himself. "No, I will not let that happen."

He turned and got his mind already shifting to the day ahead. The the film set, the constant pressure to perform. But the image of Y/N, her sharp eyes and firm handshake, and the image of her son, his social skills, stayed with him, a small, unexpected intrusion into his carefully constructed world. Now he was on his way to the film set. It was time to become someone else.

The set was buzzing, a hive of activity as they prepared for the scene with Brittany Murphy. Marshall stood off to the side, trying to shake off the lingering weariness from the long hours. He watched as Brittany, warm and approachable, went over her lines with Curtis. He knew this scene was pivotal, a moment where B-Rabbit starts to connect with Alex, her character. Marshall tried to focus, to immerse himself in the character, but his mind kept drifting back to the schoolyard, to the woman with the sharp eyes and the kid who liked his shoes. Y/N, he thought, the name a soft echo in his mind. He felt a sense of displacement, a feeling that he was living in two worlds, neither of which felt entirely real.

"Alright, Em, you ready?" Curtis called out, his voice cutting through the noise.

Marshall nodded, taking his place. The cameras rolled, and Brittany stepped into the scene, her energy infectious.

"Heard you're a dope rapper," she said, delivering the line with a playful smile.

"Who said I was a dope rapper?" M replied, his voice a touch guarded, just as Jimmy would be.

As they ran through the scene, a strange sense of detachment washed over Marshall. He was present, he was delivering his lines, but his mind kept drifting. He saw Y/N's face, a fleeting image, a whisper in the back of his mind. He couldn't quite place the feeling, but it was a mix of longing and a deep, underlying anxiety.

The scene continued, but Marshall's focus was fractured. He was Jimmy, he was Marshall, and he was someone else entirely, someone haunted by a connection he couldn't fully comprehend.

After the take, Curtis gave him a nod of approval. "Good stuff, Em. You nailed it."

But Marshall barely registered the praise. He was still lost in his own thoughts, the image of Y/N lingering like a ghost. He retreated to his trailer, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, searching for a flicker of recognition. The questions echoing in his mind: Who am I? he wondered. The rapper? The actor? The father? He felt like a collection of masks, each one hiding a deeper, more vulnerable self. He picked up his phone, his fingers hovering over the keypad. He wanted to call Hailie, to hear her voice, to remind himself that he was still a father, that he was still real. But he hesitated, afraid of interrupting her time with her mother. He put the phone down, feeling a wave of loneliness wash over him. He was surrounded by people, but he felt utterly alone. The applause, the attention, it was all a fleeting illusion. He longed for something real, something genuine... And there she was again. Why now? Why is Y/N so present in my thoughts, when I need to be focused?

Marshall didn't even know Y/N, not really. They'd barely spoken. He didn't understand why this was happening, why this person, this almost-stranger, was occupying so much space in his mind. It felt like a phantom limb, a connection that existed without explanation.

⚝ 𖤐 ✶ ✷ ⛥ ✴ ☆ ⍟ ✦ 𖥔 ✰ ★ ☆⚝ 𖤐 ✶ ✷ ⛥

Spoiler of the next chapters: Y/N turned, and her breath caught in her throat. Standing before her was the man from the school, the man with the familiar eyes.

"Yes, I am," she replied, her voice steady despite the sudden rush of recognition. "You're… Marshall, from the school."

"Yeah, that's me," Marshall said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, a smile that seemed more genuine than the one he had given at the school. "Y/N, right?"

"Yes," she confirmed, a slight frown creasing her brow. "So, you're in this film?"

"Yeah, it's my first one," he said, his tone casual.

[df6fire]

Dwayne Fire - Louisiana gun law

Welcome to DF6 Firearms Academy & Consulting LLC, where you’ll find specialised classes and advice from professional shooting instructors. Based in New Orleans, our certified instructors are experts in firearms and shooting, and they are fully qualified to help you learn the rules and techniques of the game. Whether you’re looking to learn how to use the gun you have at home or learning some self-defence skills, our instructors can introduce you to the ins and outs of firearms or help sharpen your existing skills – so call us today to discover how we can assist you.

[mirathebookworm]

Firearms instructor! Terry Richmond x black! Reader 👀 I have absolutely Aaron Pierre brain rot since Rebel Ridge I’m finally free so I will do my best to upload this asap

[dyns33]

Dead man walking

He's an ass, but I love Shane, so I'm writing some Shane's stories now.

Shane had called her when it all started. Even though he didn't want to believe it was serious, his instinct told him to call her, and Y/N answered while continuing to watch TV.

They had been together for a little over a month.

After what happened to his best friend and partner, Shane went to bars a lot, drank a lot, got into fights, and found a different girl to spend the night with.

When he approached Y/N, she knew he wasn't looking for anything serious, but above all she saw the sadness in his eyes, the desperation in his forced smile, the loneliness in the hand that touched her shoulder.

They had discussed. A lot of talking, and not the stupid, insubstantial discussions he had with all the other girls.

It surprised Shane that someone was interested in him. Really interested in him, not just his looks, his attitude, his invitation to jump into bed. He wasn't used to it.

Usually, people saw an idiot, an asshole, a seducer, a fighter, but nothing more. Before, people didn't really see him most of the time, because they were too busy seeing Rick.

He had cried that evening, in the arms of Y/N, who had comforted him with great patience and gentleness.

Shane had fallen in love. It was new to him, but not unpleasant. He had always dreamed of having a family, like his best friend. He wished he was there to share his happiness, but he talked to him all the time about Y/N when he went to the hospital.

Then there were the announcements. While Y/N was on a business trip to Jacksonville. 5 hours drive drom Atlanta.

Shane called her because some people losing their minds and attacking other people wasn't normal. He wanted to check that she was okay. He asked her if she was going to come home early.

As this did not seem to disrupt her boss's plans, she told him that she would be home as planned the following week.

"I miss you, baby. I don't like you being so far away." he sighed, realizing that he couldn't convince her to jump in her car.

“Everything will be fine, we’ll be together soon.”

Two days later, it was already chaos. There were no more telephones, everyone was running in the streets, the highways were blocked, there were no planes or trains.

Y/N witnessed terrible scenes. Dead people rising to eat the living. With a small group, she managed to hide in the woods, with water and food. It wouldn't last, even if they were safe.

But all she could think about was Shane. She had to find Shane.

Without a car or any other means of transportation, 5 hours became a lot longer to get home. If he was still home. If he was okay… No, she didn't want to think about that. Y/N knew Shane, he was alive, she was sure of it.

An excellent shooting instructor, he had taught her how to handle several firearms. She stole some from an abandoned gun store, with a knife, and after filling her backpack with provisions, she headed to Atlanta.

Avoiding the roads, making no noise, sleeping in trees, Y/N approached the goal after several weeks. She had been forced to fight, and kill some walkers, and that allowed her to discover that they detected her less easily when she was covered in their blood.

It was a real relief to see the town sign. Then she lost hope a bit, seeing that the streets were deserted. There was little chance Shane would have stayed here.

Maybe he had decided to join her, and their paths had crossed. Y/N went into the forest to rest, and she saw a camp from afar.

Suspicious, she used her sniper to determine if the survivors looked dangerous. There were women, a man on a camper van, kids.

Continuing to observe, she saw a couple away from the group, as if they were hiding.

The woman looked familiar. Y/N was sure she had seen her before. When they separated, she almost dropped her gun.

Shane. Shane and Lorie, Rick's wife, his best friend. Kissing.

She had to put her hand over her mouth to stifle the cry that wanted to come out, tears streaming down her cheeks. While she was risking her life to find him, Shane was sleeping with another woman, quietly installed in a camp, not caring at all about her.

If she had wanted, she could have shot them in the head before leaving.

But she held back, crying silently in a tree. She stayed there for several days, not knowing what she was going to do next. Her reason for living was to find Shane, she had no purpose now.

When the camp became agitated, she used her sniper again, seeing a sheriff approach, taking Shane in his arms, then kissing Lorie and her son.

Rick. The friend in a coma. He was alive, he was back, and he was going to cause a big mess. This made her smile. She really wanted to see what that would be like, so she decided to follow them.

They made a lot of bad decisions along the way, but Y/N could understand that it was more complicated to survive as a group. She saw the girl coming out from under the car, panicking.

Even though she was further away, Y/N observed her trajectory and she ran very quickly to catch up, while the group pushed the dead away.

Sophia was an annoying little girl. Stubborn. But after Y/N killed the walkers chasing her, she agreed to trust her, taking her hand to return to the group.

They had moved, again, so it wasn't easy.

Y/N didn’t really want to talk to them. To talk to Shane. But she couldn't leave a child alone.

The farm was in the middle of nowhere, but you could see it was inhabited. She approached slowly, her weapon against her chest, Sophia remaining behind her.

Rick was the first to come towards them, his eyes bright and smiling when he saw the little one, thanking Y/N for finding her. Her mother followed, then everyone else.

Shane's look was indescribable. He stopped in the middle of the camp, as if unsure of what he was seeing. For a moment, Y/N wondered if he was going to look at Lorie, hesitate because of what he had done, but instead he let out a huge scream.

He screamed her name, running like crazy towards her to hug and kiss her, surprising everyone.

"Y/N ! Y/N, you're alive ! You're here ! I can't believe you're here ! I thought…I'm a moron, sorry. Forgive me."

“I told you I was going to come home.” she said coldly.

"Oh, baby… I wanted to find you, but I had to take care of the group. They needed me."

“Yes, I noticed they had certain needs.”

He didn't seem to understand her sentence, but Shane didn't have time to ask her any questions, the others inviting them to enter the farm to rest, and for Y/N to tell them her story.

Strangely, some people knew who she was. Shane had talked about her, even if the subject made him melancholic and aggressive. They knew she was far away when it all started, and no one thought she would make it here, even if she was still alive.

Shane hadn't thought she was alive. This hurt her deeply, on top of everything else. She suddenly felt dead inside, remembering herself walking for hours, days, weeks, just to find him, just like those inhuman things.

She was able to hurt him in turn when Rick said that they were lucky that she arrived at the moment when Sophia separated from the group, and she contradicted him, revealing that she had been following them for several weeks.

"… What ? You found us several weeks ago and… And you didn't say anything ?"

"I was watching from afar. I saw… a lot of things."

Her eyes quickly landed on Lorie, who trembled, understanding what Y/N meant. Shane understood too, swallowing what he was going to say as he looked down in shame.

Not wanting to create discord when their son Carl had been injured, Y/N said nothing, finding a corner of the house to sleep. She thought things wouldn't go any further for tonight, but she had forgotten what Shane was like.

Once everyone was asleep, he snuck over to her corner, lying down next to her.

"I'm glad you're alive. I love you."

“Shut up, Shane.”

"I'm sorry." he sighed, staring at the ceiling, his hand still remaining close to hers. "I thought… At first, I wanted to keep hope. Then seeing all this shit, I thought it would be better if you weren't here anymore. I didn't want to imagine you alone, trying to survive. It was already horrible here, and I had people I knew. You have to understand… We felt alone and lost. We needed comfort. It was nothing else, and we weren't proud of it. I thought about Rick all the time, and about you, but I needed that to keep from breaking down. Do you understand ? Can you forgive me, baby ? My darling, my love ? I only love you, I swear.”

It still hurt, but Y/N could understand.

Nothing was simple, everything had changed. She wanted Shane to go looking for her, but he might have died on the road. She would have liked him not to sleep with another woman, but he might have lost his mind with the pressure and depression. She would have wanted him to keep hope, but this hope would have eaten away at him, torn from the inside, because he wouldn't have known what to do between staying with the group and leaving.

It hurt, but she couldn't judge him. He thought she was dead, he thought Rick was dead, the world was on fire, and he just wanted to hold on to something.

Gently, she took his hand, and she heard him sob, turning his head towards her to place it on her shoulder, kissing her skin.

"I only need you, baby. Always have."

“You’re still so excessive.”

“Yeah, and you love me like that.” he purred, clinging completely to her. "You don't know how happy I am that you're here. Fuck. I didn't think I could still be happy like this."

Y/N didn’t tell him that she was going to need time to completely forgive him. She didn't tell him that Rick would eventually find out too. She also didn't know that they were going to run into a lot of other problems, within the group and because of everything that was going on.

No, she decided not to ruin this moment, for which she had traveled several kilometers, taking him in her arms as during their first meeting.

[lxstfathier]

professor x student fantasy 🤭🤭

ok you guys know that i don’t write school scenarios due to personal reasons buuut i have a similar thot for you anon, i did it with ale and i hope you enjoy it!! 💗

After retiring from the military, Alejandro decided to get a little job as a firearm instructor in a prestigious shooting range. That way he got some money, and kept himself occupied with new people -who usually are military veterans just like him or young men who only want to try the real guns after playing video games for a while-

That’s until you appeared, all innocent and pretty, asking to get some training for self-defense purposes. And how could he say no to you?

He’s been single for too long, so he lets his manly instincts kink in whenever you go to your classes, taking advantage of any excuse to feel your pretty body. And you’re too naive to notice the way he holds you close to his chest to adjust your posture, or how he puts his hands over yours to teach you how to pull the trigger.

Maybe that just how he teaches… right? you would never imagine that he fucks his fist every night, thinking about how good you’d look sucking his cock while he points a gun straight to your forehead <3