#the train alt is more important these days on Earth

[ryuki-draws]

Silly 3 am doodles I ended up liking more than I expected :’D

[simping-on-the-daily]

TWST Characters in Transformers Universe

Combined the two current hyperfixations let's goooo~ References the caste system from IDW, the constructed cold racism and things like mnenosurgery and empurata

Ace: The classic young, reckless Autobot who wants nothing more then to kick Decepticon tailpipe. Didn't actually experience the caste system bullshit; he was born just before the Decepticons did their war crimes and fully declared war. As a result, has no fucking idea what everyone is talking about by 'functionism' and joined the Autobots because 'we're the good guys right' Fucking obsessed with Earth media, probs participates in street racing and a fucking menace

Deuce: Just like Ace, was born just before the Decepticons broke everything the Geneva convention stood for. Tragically got stuck in the wrong crowd, bring influenced by Decepticons who didn't fight for freedom, but rather for sport. They rubbed off of Deuce and he joined the ranks, but he's a good bot at spark; upon realising what he had done was wrong, he joined the Autobots. Sometimes regrets that decision because Primus dammit he really wants to punch Ace and not get in trouble for it, cause opposite sides and shit

Riddle: Now this fucker experienced the caste system all right. Having been led his entire life believing that the Senate was right, he's a stick in the mud. Any stoicism he had was furthered by the trauma of war, where he aligns Autobot, agreeing with the belief that your alt mode defines your purpose in life and fighting against the bots who oppose that belief; the Depcepticons. He gets better though, and sticks by the Autobots now because he knows it's the right thing to do

Leona: Though Leona recognised that Cybertronian society was not all perfect and wanted to help his peers, he was constructed cold, his artificial spark similar to that of the forged Farena, leading people to call them brothers. Alas, CC racism, Farena having a far more better alt mode and Farena already being an extremely important bot made the Senate deem Leona worthless. Leona tried for a long time to fight the system, wearing the Decepticon insignia (not never officially joining), he began to realize that war altered the Decpeticons ideals, making them no longer fight for freedom, and the hope he once had shattered, depression hitting him like a freight train. He's taken to Earth due to their great recharging spots, and is only really close to Ruggie, his only friend from the Decepticon days. Opens up eventually, and though he's not wiping off the badge anytime soon, he promises to keep fellow beast mode Cybertronian Jack safe from all of the shit the war has to offer

Rook: What the fuck is there to say honestly. Rook was an outlier, able to instantly to identify someone's coordinates, whether they were friend or foe, and hunt them down without the need of technological assistance. One could call him neutral, for he only makes temporary trucks with either Bot or Con if he thinks that it'll give him a close optic view of something truly 'beautiful', but his loyalty isn't to either cause. Rather, it's too a person; the imfamous Vil Schoenheit. People mistake him for a member of the DJD due to his vibes and who can blame them

Jamil: Oh dear. Forged right next to Kalim, Kalim's robot form made of ancient Cybertronian jewels and a great alt mode, Jamil's entire life was paved for him. His personal servant, he grew to despise the bot he was forced to serve, even more so at the fact that Kalim wasn't like the Senate; his spark was pure and he approached the world with an optimistic glee. Jamil wished to fight for the Depcepticons, but was too afraid to go against his master at the time. When Kalim joined the Autobots, he dragged Jamil with him, who witnessed numerous Autobots join just so they could show the Decepticons their 'proper place' as slaves and other horrifying concepts, and bots with truly kind Sparks that deserved to live a life untainted by war. Slowly growing more and more cynical, one day he lost it, denouncing the Autobots. The next time Kalim saw him, Jamil bore the Decpeticon insignia.

Ortho: He was once a kind soul, who learned the Cybertronian way by a far more anxious bot; Idia, growing close enough to act like brothers. Once. Tragically, he encountered an empurata'd, vengeful spark who acted like the infamous Sparkeaters, being brutally beaten to death, Idia watching as a medic failed to come in time and his plating turned grey. In his grief, Idia stole a constructed cold protoform, altered the frame and created his own artificial Spark to be in Ortho's likeness, leading to the creation of the new Ortho Shroud. Though officially neutral like his brother, Ortho has become good friends with many Autobots, being an unofficial member of them.

Lilia: One of the first vocal Decepticon supporters, he strongly believed in freedom and wanted to fight for his fellow bots. Tragically, the war trauma fucked him up really bad, and realized that the Decepticons had changed their goal from freedom to tyranny under a different name. He dissapeared mysteriously, believed to have died a legendary death in combat, rumours going on to say he could defeat the DJD without breaking a sweat and numerous other great claims. In truth, he abandoned the Decepticons, taking refuge on Earth, in unofficial custody of the kids he found and has sworn on his spark he'll keep them away from the horrors of war.

[burnedbyshoto]

the bodyguard

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

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

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

word count: 20,500

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

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“I’ll be okay.”

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

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

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

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

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

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

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

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

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

05:30.

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

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-Wha—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Cause I��m a stalker, duh.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

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

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

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

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

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

He was okay.

He was okay.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

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

“Toshinori—”

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

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

He had barely passed the admittance test.

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

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

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

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

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were tiny.

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

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

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

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

“Six months tops.”

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

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

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

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

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

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

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

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

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

Fuck, that one hurt.

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

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

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

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

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

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

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

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

“You got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

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

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

Or so the contract said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, so much for a good case.

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

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

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

You always managed to sneak away from him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

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

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

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

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

He wanted to be just a fan.

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

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

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

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

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

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

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

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

And then there’s only silence.

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

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

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

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

He knew that.

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

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

You were a good person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...how interesting.

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

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

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

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

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

“Very much.”

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

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

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

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

So much for change.

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

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

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

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

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

It had been a hard morning.

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

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

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

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

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

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

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

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

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

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

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

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

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

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

Oh, right.

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

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

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

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

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

“Compromises aren’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh-”

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

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

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

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

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

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

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

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

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

The van turns on.

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

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

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

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

T082-23

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

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

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

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

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

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

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

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

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

For now, he was waiting for you.

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

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

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

“Should we go?”

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

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

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

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

“Sure.”

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

The contract was then discussed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?” 

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

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

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

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

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

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

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

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

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-If that’s okay?”

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

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

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

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

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

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

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

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

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A pause.

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

A nod.

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

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

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

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

What had happened?

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

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

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

“Was that um, Major—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn’t made of glass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

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

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

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

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

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, his dreams were never like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

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

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

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

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

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

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

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

What was he going to do now?

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

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

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something.

Anything.

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

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

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

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

He was going to.

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

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

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

“Damn right I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Such a brat.”

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

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

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

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

T082-23.

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

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

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

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

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

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

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

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

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

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

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

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

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

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

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

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

Oh fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

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

“...she’s drunk?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

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

You smile.

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

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

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

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

How were they related?

What connected them?

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

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

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

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

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

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

BANG!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

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

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

But it was growing late.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown. 

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

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

“Oh, sure!”

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

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

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

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

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

He was relaxed.

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

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

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

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

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

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

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

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does the princess want?”

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

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

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

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you. 

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you. 

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers. 

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands. 

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center. 

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

[mitsususu]

Don’t underestimate the importance of body language! Below are my Top 5 Favorite stories:

“Idioglossia” (M, 20k) by hotelmichelle

“James and Steve. If I have to tell you one more time to stop talking, you will be separated. Do you understand?”

Bucky stares up at Mrs. Wheatley with the face that gets him out of trouble when his ma is in a good mood. Steve becomes suddenly fascinated with his correction work. It would have been convincing enough, if their papers weren’t blank.

Or: Steve and Bucky make up a secret language

+ Pre WW2 to Post WS. Steve and Bucky are going find ways to communicate with each other whether you like it or not

-☆-

“But you were always gold to me” (NR, 13k) by Scout924

In which Steve finds Bucky (or does Bucky find Steve?) after Bucky pulls him from the river, and Steve will do whatever it takes to find his old friend in the Winter Soldier. Bucky finds a less-painful way to communicate.

+ Post WS. Steve’s home is wherever Bucky is, and Bucky will stay.

-☆-

“despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained)” (E, 71k) by praximeter (Zimario)

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

+ Alt WS. Identity porn and body trauma. This story hurts so good, but the ending is sweet.

-☆-

“Give Me A Sign” (G, 1k) by orphan_account

Bucky loves knowing more than one language. It certainly helps him pine over strangers.

+ Modern AU. Bucky has the biggest crush on the guy at the coffeeshop, and he loves to sign about it

-☆-

“Signs and Signals” (T, 1k) by EachPeachPearPlum

For the prompt: "X was talking to a friend in sign language in public transportation, using both hands so not holding anywhere, bus/train suddenly stops and X falls onto Y, who catches him. X immediately turns his face to his friend to quickly sign "He's so damn hot", without knowing Y is fluent in ASL, then apologetically types "I'm so sorry" in his phone, holds it to Y's face. Y signs "It's okay", X is horrified and he blushes like hell"

(In which Clint hates the subway, his job, and days when he loses his hearing aids, but is greatly cheered up when his dumbass best friend falls into the lap of a handsome stranger.)

+ Modern AU. An adorable meet-cute on the train with fantastic friends

-☆-

-☆- Bonus Freebie! -☆-

“Every Tree That is Pleasant” (T, 13K) by spitandvinegar

“As near as we can figure,” Tony said, “we had two incredibly ridiculous things happen at once. The first was Cap and murderbot activated a device that was sort of the juiced-up remote version of the thing that they used to scramble Barnes' brains back in the day. The second is that Mad Madame Mim here panicked and tried to get the universe to move them out of the room, and instead accidentally sent them to outer space.”

“To another dimension,” said Wanda, as if that was the point that made all the difference.

+ Post WS. Steve and Bucky spend 20 feral years alone together and make their own language. 

*More Stucky Recs here

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Simpson is a Richmond-based singer and rapper who you may also know as Babe Simpson, one-fourth of the Tumblr-born rap collective Barf Troop. They dazed the internet back in the early 2010s with their uncensored, forward-thinking rhymes and aesthetics, and even got the attention of Drake. Though the collective has gone silent in recent years, Simpson has since cultivated her own steady following around her soft, and ruminative tunes. Her latest is 'Cherry Ice Cream Sundae,' a song about "treating ourselves with as much tenderness as we treat everyone else," she says, and is backed by a lush landscape of jazzy guitars and drums — a sound that could be considered a close sibling to the rap lullabies of Noname. Simpson's now sharing the song's peculiar video, which features a charming but eerie cast of marionette puppets. Over email, Simpson explains that she wrote the song after experiencing "a feeling that I’ve always been trying to put into words but I don’t think I was mature enough to be able to sing. I reached my breaking point where I was like, f*ck it, whatever happens, happens, and I’m gonna look on the bright side everywhere I can. I’m going to 'smile because I can.' I actually changed the original opening lyrics from 'The world is in the shitter' to 'Life is kind to who’s kind to it back.' The world has always been in the shitter, but that hasn’t made it any less special or sweet. I think that’s made me much more of a realist. I recorded it tipsy, upside down, hanging off my bed as a freestyle, and it felt so natural saying and listening to it back made me feel so proud." [via NYLON]

Earlier this week, Lana Del Rey revealed the artwork and tracklist for her new album Chemtrails Over The Country Club. Back in October, Del Rey shared the album’s lead single 'Let Me Love You Like A Woman.' It was the first song she shared from the album after postponing its planned September release. Now, she’s sharing the album’s second single and title track. She’s also announced that Chemtrails Over The Country Club will be out March 19. In a lengthy interview with BBC Radio 1 — during which she talked about the Trump insurrection and her album cover controversy — she mentioned that Jack Antonoff produced much of the album, minus 'Yosemite,' which was produced with Rick Nowels. Watch a music video for the album’s title track, directed by BRTHR, above. In a different kind of statement, prior to the release of the 'Chemtrails Over The Country Club' music video, Del Rey explained why she is wearing a cast in it: "When you see my second video for this album, don’t think that the fact I’m wearing a cast is symbolic for anything other than thinking I was still a pro figure skater. I wiped out on my beautiful skates before the video even began after a long day of figure eights and jumps in the twilight of the dezert. Anyways my fracture isn’t that bad kind of goes with my new bucket hat. Thanks to my beautiful family for my gifts." [via Stereogum]

Joining forces for the new uplifting track, G Flip and mxmtoon are sharing new empowerment anthem ‘Queen’, produced by Rostam Batmanglij. "'Queen' was written about the strong women around me, the queens that raised me and the queens I’ve met through my years,” G Flip explains. “My idea of a queen is not necessarily linked to gender; queens come in all forms and walks of life. To me a queen embodies power and strength; they embrace all they are fiercely yet gracefully. The song was written one sunny day in LA, I was chillin on Rostam’s lovely white couch and he turned around to me and said ‘how about we write a song about Queens’ and I replied with ‘F@!K yeah!’. I’m also super stoked to have mxmtoon on the track with me, she is an absolute queen. I first was introduced to her when I was trying to find ukulele chords to a Khalid song and found her cover on YouTube years ago. She makes awesome music and her voice has such a cruisy timbre to it so I was thrilled to have her jump on 'Queen' with me. She is also an avid croc lover and part of the LGBTQIA+ community, so obviously it just made sense!” mxmtoon adds, “So happy to be a part of ‘Queen’ with G! she and Rostam were such a joy to work with and so so much fun to collaborate with on creative as well. I’m so glad that it’s still possible to make art and music with someone even when they’re on the other side of the world, and I’m lucky that I got the opportunity to feature on G’s song. ‘Queen’ is a power anthem for any person, and I’m so excited for people to love it as much as we do!” [via DIY]

With her hotly-anticipated new album Magic Mirror out now, Pearl Charles gave us our latest teaser of what to expect earlier this week, sharing new glitzy bop ‘Only For Tonight’. “‘Only for Tonight’ tells the story of a currently bygone era of wild nights out on the town - the highs and lows of one night stands and the crashes of the morning after,” she explains. “The music video, directed by Bobbi Rich, leans into those excesses, paying a sparkly homage to the late-night musical television shows of the 70’s, from Soul Train to The Midnight Special, as well as the gauzy, Vaseline’d lens of ABBA’s music videos. With an added sprinkling of VHS special effects, you’re likely to feel like you’re watching a home-taped recording of a lost episode of Top of the Pops.” [via DIY]

Alt-pop trailblazer dodie has shared her new single 'Hate Myself' in full. Everything the songwriter touches seems to turn into melodic gold, with her debut album Build A Problem landing this Spring. Out on March 5, it's led by new single 'Hate Myself', which made its bow as Annie Mac's Hottest Record In The World. It's an apt title, with this instantly-viral moment offering an "inner monologue" that touches on some of dodie's inner-most feelings. The song depicts "someone who seems to find themselves in relationships of any kind with people who deal with their feelings internally - unfortunately resulting in assuming the issue is with them." dodie co-directed the video alongside Sammy Paul, shooting at the Cornish seaside village Polperro. The pair "excitedly landed on the silly idea of the training leading up to becoming a post-lady, and thoroughly enjoyed planning the many bizarre exercises she would have to perfect. Our excellent Art Director, Louis Grant, worked on bringing her home and training station to life. Though jogging on cliff tops in the rain, carrying a large sack and slipping in the mud was certainly cold and exhausting, I think I preferred it to slowly feeling sicker, licking stamps on a swaying boat by the Excel." [via Clash]

Berlin-based indie five-piece People Club are back with new single and video 'Francine', following on from their last release 'Lay Down Your Weapons', which focused on police brutality.  The new single 'Francine' tackles the topics of addiction and lovelessness. In the words of the band: "The song speaks from the voice of a lamenting partner whose lover (Francine) is helplessly addicted to drugs. Francine lost interest in her relationship with the narrator a long time ago. It's a song about commitment and how love can fade away leaving only wickedness behind."  Regarding the visuals, the band said "The 'Francine' video is a play on the old idiom of 'being your own worst enemy'. A phrase which quite beautifully captures the inner critic which we know so well, especially during the course of the pandemic - we've had to learn to each give ourselves a break. The video was shot in the depth of the harsh Berlin winter, in the depth of the pandemic." Director Felix Spitta added "I love the band and I love the different personalities. It is always heaps of fun working on creative output together. Riding through Berlin only with bikes and all the film equipment in the freezing cold almost felt like a masochistic idea from Saxon. It's inspiring to be surrounded by so many creative minds.”

Pale Waves are back with 'Easy', the third single to be shared from their highly-anticipated second album Who Am I?. Lead vocalist Heather Baron-Gracie describes the new track as "a song about how love can change your whole entire perspective on life itself. It’s saying ‘being in love with you is so easy, you finally make sense in my life because nothing did before'." The new single is accompanied by a James Slater-directed video that shows Baron-Gracie performing at a Tim Burton/medieval-style wedding in an abandoned church. Baron-Gracie adds, "I wore a wedding dress throughout and we shot the video in an old abandoned church. I’m really inspired by the gothic medieval aesthetic and at the time I was thinking of the video I was watching a lot of Tim Burton films whose creativity really inspires me." Pale Waves' second album will follow their 2018 debut LP My Mind Makes Noises. Baron-Gracie says of their upcoming album, "For me, music and art is for people not to feel so alone and isolated. I want to be that person my fans look up to and find comfort in." [via the Line Of Best Fit]

The official video for Zoe Wees’ new single, 'Girls Like Us,' is online now. Like the song, the clip sends a message of togetherness and solidarity to girls around the world who are feeling the pressures of society. Zoe Wees says, “It’s not always good to think about how you look to the rest of the world. It’s much more important to think about how you feel inside. It is not easy to call yourself beautiful but being confident helps you to accept and love yourself.” The 18-year-old Hamburg, Germany-based artist adds, “We’re walking through a world with blinded eyes. At the end of the day, we all go to bed without make-up with the ugliest clothes and wake up with the messiest hair on earth.”

Julien Baker has shared a new taste of her forthcoming album Little Oblivions by way of a new single ‘Hardline’. Julien says, “A few years ago I started collecting travel ephemera again with a loose idea of making a piece of art with it. I had been touring pretty consistently since 2015 and had been traveling so much that items like plane tickets and hotel keycards didn't have much novelty anymore. So I saved all my travel stuff and made a little collage of a house and a van out of it. I wanted to incorporate it into the record and when we were brainstorming ideas for videos we came across Joe Baughman and really liked his work so we reached out with the idea of making a stop-motion video that had similar aesthetic qualities as the house I built did. I don't know why I have the impulse to write songs or make tiny sculptures out of plane tickets. But here it is anyway: a bunch of things I've collected and carried with me that I've re-organized into a new shape.” The video for ‘Hardline’ was directed by Joe Baughman, who notes: “Man, even after having spent 600 hours immersed in ‘Hardline’ and having listened to it thousands of times, I am still moved by it. It was a fun and ambitious challenge creating something that could accompany such a compelling song. The style of the set design, inspired by a sculpture that Julien created, was especially fun to work in. I loved sifting through magazines, maps, and newspapers from the 60s and 70s and finding the right colors, shapes, and quotes to cover almost every surface in the video.”

Teenage Joans are staying true to their world and unveiling 'Something About Being Sixteen', a new single that's sure to cement their 2021 as victorious. It's the perfect successor to 'Three Leaf Clover' and a track that makes it two-for-two for Teenage Joans, further capturing the excitement and energy within Cahli and Tahlia as they trade catchy riffs and thriving choruses with the combo of light-heartedness and intimateness that seems to define Teenage Joans' work, and how they're able to look in at themselves (and out at the world around them) through a lens that keeps it fun and digestable. "'Something About Being Sixteen' is undoubtedly Teenage Joans' great take on the classic coming of age rock tune, generally closing our live sets with audiences singing along every time without fail," the duo say on the single. [via Pilerats]

Kate Hollowell took a risk going by the moniker Number One Popstar when she released her debut single 'Psycho.' However, Hollowell didn’t mind if that choice set her up for failure or not. She goes with the flow. Luckily, that mentality has advanced her even farther. Now, Number One Popstar releases her second single, 'I Hate Running.' New Year’s resolutions are, most of the times, created for the wrong reasons. It’s also no surprise that majority of people’s goals center around exercising and weight loss. 'I Hate Running', however, challenges that mindset, satirizing the toxic nature of exercise industry and diet culture. Hollowell said herself, “The song explores facing the hard, emotional work instead of the physical.  I really don’t enjoy running, and I wanted to troll the exercise industry and write an anti-motivational song.” In terms of sound, 'I Hate Running' shares similar vibes to her first single with its classic 80s pop of saturated synths. But, this time, there’s a hint of disco with the zealous psychedelic guitar and electric drums and keys. The interludes consist of a symbolic, robotic, and almost sinister snippet from a workout instructor. It all complements well with Hollowell’s escapist lyrics. Even though the lyrics say otherwise, the track’s sound might just spark that motivation to workout or dance, doing mindful movement that makes us feel good. Exercise should never feel like a punishment, and Number One Popstar is here to remind us. She makes us want to stick it to the exercise industry, proving to it that we will only work out for the right reasons. [via Earmilk]

Alt-pop riser Chloe Rodgers has shared her new video 'The Algea' in full. The Nottingham based talent sparkled in 2020 in spite of the pervasive gloom, releasing two startling singles. Her third release could be her best yet, with 'The Algea' hitting streaming services just before Christmas. The video captures those mid-winter chills, while providing a platform for Chloe to express herself. Constructed alongside creative director Kate Lomas, it was shot at Newstead Abbey in Nottingham. Chloe comments... "I wanted to use a music box in the video to represent being objectified and getting stuck in the same cycles, as that’s largely what the song is about. I wrote the song when I was 18, but didn’t add the verse at the end about claiming my power back until a couple of years later when I felt a bit stronger. We tried to reflect this in the video too with the Chloe in white sort of protecting the other Chloe of the past." Kate Lomas adds: "This was such a joy to watch come together, the video concept is based around the idea that Chloe is the character in a music box, she’s the performer that’s spinning round on an endless cycle for other people’s entertainment. The video tells the tale of Chloe definitely breaking this cycle and no longer playing this role." [via Clash]

Jaguar Jonze has announced her ANTIHERO EP will be released on April 16 via Nettwerk Records. With the EP announcement, Deena shares the official music video for her latest single, 'ASTRONAUT,' the follow-up to two previously released videos for 'DEADALIVE' and 'MURDER'. Each of the five music videos for the forthcoming ANTIHERO EP will come together through bold-palette videos that transform into an antihero character “in a cyberpunk, anime, futuristic, graphic, almost sci-fi world,” says Deena. Deena adds, “as ‘ASTRONAUT’ delves into my anxiety, I wanted the film to reflect that in a simple way that helped portray how my anxiety can sometimes manifest - a contradiction between feeling lost in vast spaces and trapped in claustrophobic spaces. I had a specific idea in mind, which meant that I had to undergo stunt training with professionals and learn how to maneuver in a wire harness. Most of the video had to be shot in a single take because of the stunts' nature in safety preparation, time consumption, and impact on the body. I'm still recovering from the bruises, but it was all worth it, and the team was amazing in pulling it all together. I'm proud of this one as it is 3 minutes of my rawest vulnerability, visually interpreted. I'm also finally ready to share it.” 'ASTRONAUT' is the sound of Deena liberating herself from a lifelong battle with anxiety.  “It is a human trait. It’s how we survive in the wild,” she says. “We’re all wired as humans to be quite anxious.  As females more so, because we’re more susceptible to danger.”

Rising star Mulay shares the smoking visuals for her new single, ‘Antracyte’. It’s the culminating release in a three-part video series from the Berlin-based alternative R&B singer-songwriter/producer/artist, ahead of her highly anticipated EP, which comes out at the end of the month via Groenland Records. Mulay explains about the single, “'ANTRACYTE' is the intro and title track to my debut EP. It’s the soundtrack to the birth of a villain and captures the moment of complete honesty to yourself about the awareness of doing wrong by the ones you love while feeling the inability to turn around. It’s about the desire to taste forbidden fruits, to cross and explore what lies beyond the line and the self-empowering feeling of playing by your own rules defeating the fear of consequences and the power of moral concepts. 'ANTRACYTE' tells a story of contradicting emotions, a story of love, lust, pain and a longing for more. It’s about facing your own darkness and sins, about self-revelation, emancipation and about paying its price, resigning to your fate.”

Only a band like shallow pools could make a blast of 'ice water' sound refreshing and necessary in the dead of New England winter. But the Massachusetts indie-pop group is usually pushing against the current of what we’d normally expect, and now the quartet hits us with a dose of cold reality through their new single and video. 'ice water' is a vivid new single that confronts the mental health struggles brought on by quarantine and isolation, and even the shallow pools aesthetic has reflected this by shifting from bright glowing neons to a more subdued color palette of beiges and browns. Call it a sign of the times, and call 'ice water' the sound of now; upbeat and jovial on the surface, a comet of pop smarts and hooks, but with the darker shine that resides in our lives when we’re positioned away from the screens and digital scenes. As Glynnis Brennan sings “Every day’s the same and / There’s no breaking out / Like I’m stuck here / Going through the motions now” well, we feel that. shallow pools describe “ice water” as “a departure from the music we’ve made in the past, but it’s the perfect bridge between our old and new sound.” That is certainly the case, and 'ice water' continues to showcase the group as one of New England’s sharpest, following a string of 2020 singles that included pop standouts like 'Haunted' and 'Afterlight'. “We wrote the song with our friend and producer, Chris Curran, and learned a lot about the type of music we want to be making in the process,” the band adds. “The song is about the impact that the state of the world has had on our mental health, specifically in the last year. We’re excited to share it and hope that anyone who has had similar experiences will find some comfort in knowing that there are others who can relate.” [via Vanyaland]

[forthehunger]

NO, YOU MOVE.

NAME: Sharon Carter ALIAS: Agent 13 SPECIES: Human (Non-powered) ETHNICITY: Caucasian (American) DAY OF BIRTH: [Redacted] ORIENTATION: Bisexual Biromantic (cis-female, she/her) HOMETOWN: Richmond, Virginia OCCUPATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, Secret Avenger, CIA Agent (verse dependent)

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

FACECLAIM: Emily VanCamp, Halston Sage (alt) HAIR COLOR: Blonde EYE COLOR: Dark brown HEIGHT: 5 feet 5 inches BUILD: Fit, muscular, athletic PIERCINGS: Ear lobes SCARS: A faint discoloration at the back of her right elbow, a long scar on her right clavicle, and faint scars on both knees

RELATIONSHIPS

MOTHER: Amanda Carter FATHER: Harrison Carter AUNT: Margaret “Peggy” Carter LOVER: Steve Rogers

TALENTS & ABILITIES

EDUCATION: Sharon graduated with honors from a local high school in Richmond, Virginia. She then proceeded to get a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice with a minor in psychology, and then a master’s degree in criminal psychology, and eventually a PhD.

KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Mandarin, French, German, Arabic, Nihongo, Italian, and Russian. In addition, Sharon can mimic a wide range of accents. 

INTELLIGENCE: Sharon is a brilliant spy and covert operations strategist. She can maintain her calm under immense amounts of pressure and keep her cover intact deep into enemy territory. Her degrees in criminal psychology enable her to empathize with her mark, to know what makes them tick and anticipate their course of action. Thus it also allows her to play her role better, no matter the cover she has to assume.

TRAINING: Sharon underwent S.H.I.E.L.D. special agent training in hand-to-hand combat and weapons’ handling. She also took additional martial arts lessons as a child and well into adulthood, specializing in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, Muai-Thai, and Pekiti Tirsia Kali. 

STRENGTH: Sharon possesses the normal human strength for a woman her age, height and build who engages in regular intensive exercise. Keep in mind that canonically, she is able to keep up with powered humans and non-humans in terms of skill if not stamina, including Steve Rogers, The Winter Soldier, and Valkyrie. 

OTHERS: Sharon is an expert driver (both stick and automatic) and can also fly quinjets, helicarriers, and similar aircraft. 

NOTES ON THE PORTRAYAL

This portrayal will be a mix of Earth-616 and Marvel Cinematic Universe influences. I will rely heavily on my own headcanons based on the mixed canon material. Sharon is, of course, known as Peggy Carter’s niece and S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Agent Thirteen. In my main verse, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been dissolved and Sharon is either working for the CIA or with Captain America as a Secret Avenger. In MCU-based threads, she is on the run from the US Government after the events of Captain America: Civil War. 

At the moment, I am in the process of rereading the comics (I’ve read them when I was way younger and I have forgotten a lot) so please bear with me! I will most likely focus on MCU-based threads at least until I catch up with Ed Brubaker’s run of Captain America. I have mentioned this before and I will say it again: I absolutely adore the dynamic between Sharon and Peggy in the comics. I believe they unreservedly loved and supported each other and no man can come between that, which is why Hayley Atwell’s comment about Staron, Sharon, and EVC is so disheartening. That said, I will not write with Peggy Carter interpretations who use Hayley as her play-by.

More info to come once I am done with my reread. For now, please don’t hesitate to ask me any questions in case you have any!

IMPORTANT LINKS

Headcanons Pinterest

[lets-steal-an-archive]

TVLine Fall TV Spoilers, retrospective edition (s8-s15)

Fall TV Spoiler Spectacular: Exclusive Scoop and Photos on 47 Returning Favorites! [September 06, 2012]

PREVIOUSLY ON… | After taking out Leviathan boss Dick Roman, Dean and Cas disappeared to a monster-filled purgatory while Sam was left on his own back on Earth. Ghost Bobby finally moved on to the other side.

COMING UP NEXT | Dean and Sam will reunite in the season premiere, but lots will have changed while they were separated. For one, after a “not very cute meet” with Amelia (recurring guest star Liane Balaban), Sam struck up a romance with the damaged woman during the Winchesters’ hiatus from each other, previews new showrunner Jeremy Carver. Dean’s side of the story will be told in flashbacks, which will answer the mystery of why Castiel vanished and how the elder brother got out of purgatory. Hint: He’s now indebted to the vamp Benny, “who is a super cool, super complex character who is a force to be reckoned with unto himself,” says Carver. “That is something that applies above ground and below ground.”

TVLINE BONUS SPOILER | Prepare for a major new recurring character in Naomi, who’s all business – complete with a serious pulled back hairdo – and very private. But underneath that no-nonsense suit exterior, she’s not quite so together.

Fall TV Spoiler Spectacular: Exclusive Scoop and Photos on 45 Returning Favorites! [September 03, 2013]

PREVIOUSLY ON… | Metatron expelled all the angels from Heaven and turned Castiel into a human. Sam continued his efforts to close the gates of Hell by curing Crowley, but Dean discovered that completing the trials would kill him, and begged his brother not to go through with it. Unfortunately, Sammy didn’t know how to stop what he started and collapsed in agony.

COMING UP NEXT | No surprise here: Sam survives. But why he does is a secret that the elder Winchester will hold on to — and one which may cause a rift between the brothers. “You’re going to find Dean, in the beginning of this season, in a slightly different position, one where it’s his decision driving great importance and weight on their relationship,” previews executive producer Jeremy Carver. “It’s a heavy weight to bear, and it has a great effect on their relationship.” There’s also angel mayhem on Earth for the brothers to contend with, including “a lot of players for the throne of who’s going to rise to the fore here,” including Battlestar Galactica alum Tahmoh Penikett’s injured warrior angel. Cas, meanwhile, is adjusting to life as a human by “eating, defecating and fornicating,” deadpans his portrayer Misha Collins. On the more quirky side, Felicia Day’s Charlie returns in Episode 4, which goes back in time to reveal “the first Men of Letters ever to occupy the bunker,” teases Carver. So what were they up to? You know, the usual — like “learning the truth behind the events that lead to The Wizard of Oz books. It’s a lot of fun and heartfelt.”

TVLINE BONUS SPOILER | Penikett’s Ezekiel isn’t the only heavenly creature we’ll be meeting. “We’re really delving into the individual characters here, and we found really interesting, really neat angels,” says Carver. “Wherever we can dive into Biblical references, we do and then we turn that the way that we need. Some of the angels that we see…have deep roots in angel mythology.”

Fall TV Spoilers 2014: Exclusive Scoops On 42 Season Premieres [September 02, 2014]

As a newly turned supernatural creature, Dean will have to decide “how dark and what kind of demon he’s going to be,” executive producer Jeremy Carver previews. So what’s the verdict? Per star Jensen Ackles, “[He’s] an ultra version of a womanizing party animal.” Considering how wild and fun his new life is – he even becomes too much for Crowley to handle! – it’s no wonder then that Dean doesn’t want to be found. But Sam, unaware of what’s happened to his brother, will try his darnedest, leading the younger Winchester “to do some questionable things that will make him, and certainly the audience, wonder which one of these guys is the true monster,” Carver notes. Meanwhile, Castiel is back on Earth and struggling with the moral dilemma of how to get his angelic grace back without being a burden.

BONUS SPOILER | Cas will be the harsh “voice of reason” when it comes to Dean’s situation, says Ackles. “Even though it might be hard to hear, it might be hard to say, he tells Sam, ‘Listen, you know what you have to do if things don’t go right.’”

Fall TV Spoilers 2015: Exclusive Scoop On 44 Season Premieres [September 08, 2015]

The Winchesters will need all the help they can get battling The Darkness, which brings us to Season 11’s theme: “You can’t outrun your past.” Dean and Sam “have to make some unexpected and unholy alliances involving folks from their past, which will have personal ramifications,” exec producer Jeremy Carver reveals. Will any of said people be fan faves who died? “We’re talking about a fight that is going to incorporate the likes of Heaven and Hell and those on Earth. So there’s certainly opportunity to see folks that have departed,” the EP replies. Perhaps one of them can provide some answers, because “there’s a lot of mystery to not only what or who The Darkness is” – maybe it’s a she? – “but what The Darkness wants,” Carver says. And while Castiel will be working alongside the brothers, he first needs to “find a way out of this spell that Rowena has cast.”

BONUS SPOILER!: Praise be! “We’re going to see more of a vintage Crowley in terms of scheming, less caring about Dean and Sam,” Carver shares.)

Fall TV Spoilers 2016: Exclusive Scoop On 42 Season Premieres [September 07, 2016]

“Dean, Mary and Cas are on the ‘Save Sam train,’ and that really drives them for the first three episodes,” executive producer Andrew Dabb previews. Once reunited, the Winchesters find themselves “pulled in two different directions” thanks to the dual threat of the British Men of Letters and Lucifer, who has taken on the vessel of a down-on-his-luck rock star (Rick Springfield). Everyone wants a piece of the fallen angel, including Crowley, who is looking to reclaim Hell and get payback for being humiliated. Lady Toni’s brethren, however, may turn out to be occasional allies in addition to stirring up trouble. “Sometimes, Sam and Dean will be working with them. Sometimes, they’ll be working against them,” Dabb hints. Meanwhile, the miraculous return of Mama Winchester has the brothers feeling “happy and conflicted” as she adjusts to a world that includes modern technology and angels. Speaking of heavenly creatures: Season 12 will spin “more personal” Cas stories and dig into his past a bit.

BONUS SPOILER!: “We’re putting the focus more on the world of hunters, so some of our past fan favorite hunters will, hopefully, swing through the show,” Dabb teases.

Fall TV Spoilers 2017: Scoop on 35+ Returning Favorites [September 07, 2017]

Cutting to the chase, “death is not the end for Castiel,” executive producer Andrew Dabb reports. “That being said, when we pick up our season he’s more dead than people usually get on our show. Castiel has a big role to play for us, but that may not be as soon as some people are hoping.” Meanwhile, the Winchester brothers, Dean especially, are reeling from the double whammy of losing their friend and their mom Mary. “There’s no one they can call,” Dabb notes, “so our guys are a bit on their own, a little spun out, both emotionally and in terms of the plot.” On top of that, they’re “acting as parents” to Lucifer’s “walking atomic bomb” offspring. “There are parts of him and things he does that they really love,” Dabb shares, “and there are parts of him and things he does that worry them a bit.” In the alt apocalypse world, Mary’s attempt to run away from Lucifer doesn’t go as well as she had hoped, while the fallen archangel finds that he “may not be the most powerful” creature over there.

BONUS SPOILER!: “Even if it’s not played by an actor that we recognize, there are certain characters that are going to come back in different bodies,” Dabb hints.

Fall TV Spoilers 2018: Scoop on 40 Returning Favorites [September 05, 2018]

Michael still wants to purify the world, but now that he’s loose on our earth — in Dean’s body, no less! — “his method is going to change,” executive producer Andrew Dabb previews. Back at the bunker, little bro Sam and heavenly pal Castiel are “extremely driven to find Dean,” with the latter even seeking help from “certain people, possibly with black eyes, who he would not normally contact.” Despite their efforts, “Sam, ultimately, and even Cas, to a degree, are a little pessimistic,” the EP says. “They’re not sure if it’s going to work out.” The Winchesters’ mom, Mary, however, “is optimistic, but sometimes that optimism can be very annoying.” Meanwhile, powerless Jack is back to hunter basics, “learning how to throw a punch [and] decapitate a vampire,” with the help of Bobby. Up in Heaven, Naomi and the few remaining angels are “trying to hold everything together.” As for the dark side, “we’re going to get a really good preview of what’s going on in Hell, actually, in the first episode,” Dabb teases.

BONUS SPOILER!: In Episode 4, “Sam and Dean and our whole crew get involved in our homage to ’80s slasher movies,” Dabb shares. “We’ve got some really cool gory stuff planned for that.”

Fall TV Preview 2019: Spoilers on 37 Returning Favorites [September 4 2019]

After finding out that God has been manipulating them, Dean and Sam are facing an “existential crisis” in the 15th and final season. “They’re realizing, ‘Well, we’re the Winchesters, but were we really doing this Chuck’s way?'” co-showrunner Andrew Dabb previews. “Part of reclaiming that agency is a big part of the season for them.” Plus, the brothers are “going to start to lose people who, in past seasons, we would’ve never lost — and lose them in a very real way. Our guys are going to realize there’s a certain finality, and some of the things they’ve relied on to get through the day — people, talents, things like that — they are no longer going to be able to roll out. And that’s going to throw them for a loop.” The show’s swan song will also welcome back some departed faces, including the Winchesters’ half-brother Adam (Jake Abel), God’s sister Amara (Emily Swallow) and deceased hunter Eileen (Shoshannah Stern).

BONUS SPOILER!: Jack is still in The Empty when Season 15 starts, and “he’s not coming back in the near future,” Dabb reveals. As for the deal Cas made to save Lucifer’s offspring, “when The Empty becomes more active, a lot of things are going to come to a head.”

[space--cadet-glow]

Translation: GRAND FINALE: German manga of “The Minish Cap”, Part 7: “Vaati’s Great Training”

And with this chapter, I have both the entire German game and the entire German manga translated. At what point did I cross the “insanity” threshold? Ah well.

My translation key: DT: „direct translation" (translated word for word) EQ: “English equivalent” (as in, as close to an English-sounding sentence as it’s gonna get) DT/EQ: „"direct translation/English equivalent" (for when the DT is so similar to an EQ that it’s practically English already) OE: “official English (translation as given in the English version of “The Minish Cap”)“ (NOTE:) “anything I need to point out” (exactly what it says on the tin) BG: „backwards German” for the Minish language in forwards form BOE: “the forwards version of the Minish language in the OE version” BOET: “the TRANSLATION of the forwards version of the Minish language in the OE version”

My translation work under the cut.

BONUS-MANGA: „VAATIS GROßE AUSBILDUNG" BONUS-MANGA: "VAATI'S GREAT TRAINING" BONUS MANGA: "VAATI DURING TRAINING"

1. „REISE" DT/EQ: „"TRAVEL" OE: "DEPARTURE"

Erzähler: „Es war einmal ein junger Minish..." DT: „It was once a young Minish..." EQ: "There once was a young Minish..." OE: "Once upon a time..."

Erzähler: „Sein Name war Vaati, er war sehr aufrichtig." DT/EQ: „"His name was Vaati, he was very sincere." OE: "...There was a young and very serious Picori named Vaati."

Toneffekte: „SCHT SCHOCK" DT/EQ: „"SCHT SHOCK" OE: "RUSTLE CRINGE"

Erzähler: „Er war sehr ängstlich..." DT/EQ: „"He was very anxious..." OE: "He was quite timid..."

Erzähler: „...aber er hatte große Ziele." DT/EQ: „"...but he had great aims/goals." OE: "...but full of ambition."

Vaati: „Ich werde groß... ...und superberühmt! Und reich..." DT: „I become big... ...and super-famous! And rich..." EQ: "I'll become big... ...and super-famous! And rich..." OE: "One day I'm gonna be super awesome! I'm gonna be the most famous Picori ever... ...And super rich too!"

2. „DER MEISTER UND DER SCHÜLER" DT/EQ: „"THE MASTER AND THE STUDENT" OE: "MASTER AND PUPIL MEET"

Vaati: „Ich möchte wie Sie, der weltbeste Weise werden. Meister Ezelo!!" DT: „I would like how you, the world-best Sage become. Master Ezelo!!" EQ: "I would like to become the world's best Sage like you. Master Ezelo!!" OE: "I want to become a famous Sage like you, Ezlo."

Vaati: „Lassen Sie mich bitte Ihr Schüler sein!!" DT: „Let you me please your student be!!" EQ: "Please let me be your student!!" OE: "Please take me as your student!"

Toneffekte: „Klipp Klar" DT: „"Clip clear" EQ: "Clearly" OE: "VEEN VEEN" (NOTE: The only explanation I can think of for the sound-effect in the German version was that it was a way to show just how "sincere" Vaati was being. Meanwhile, for the English version, I have no clue.)

Ezelo: „Oh, ein Junge mit guter Urteilskraft." DT/EQ: „"Oh, a lad with good judgement." OE: "My! What a discerning and insightful lad!"

Ezelo: „Doch meine Ausbildung ist hart. Mal sehen, ob du sie schaffst." DT: „But my training is hard. (Softener) See, if you it manage." EQ: "But, my training is hard. Let's see if you can manage it." OE: "But training with me will be DIFFICULT. Do you think you can take it?"

Vaati: „DANKE! Ich werde alles tun!" DT: „THANKS! I will anything do!" EQ: "THANKS! I will do anything!" OE: "YES! I'll do ANYTHING!"

Vaati: „Der Alte hat doch nur einen langen Bart. Ich mach ihm einfach alles nach." DT: „The old-man has but only a long beard. I imitate him just/simply everything (x)." EQ: "The old sod only has a long beard. I'll just imitate him on everything." OE: "Nice beard, but otherwise he's just an ordinary old guy! I'll nod a lot and just mimic everything he does." (NOTE: „nachmachen". Also, I went with "old sod" because „Alte" can also mean "ancient person", and judging by how both Vaati and Ezlo are insulting eachother in their heads here, something a bit more intense than just "old man" works better.)

Vaati: „In drei Jahren hab ich ihn überholt." DT: „In three years have I him over-take." EQ: "I'll over-take him in three years." OE: "I'll learn his WHOLE shtick in three years tops!"

Vaati: „Sie strahlen vor Würde." DT: „You shine of (the) dignity." EQ: "You shine with dignity." OE: "Thank you, O wise and benevolent Master!"

Ezelo: „Der Kurze spielt nur den Guten." DT: „The short-one plays only the good-guy." EQ: "The pipsqueak's only playing the good guy." OE: "This kid sure is good at kissing up, but that's about it." (NOTE: Likewise, „Kurze" could also be "shorty". I went with "pipsqueak" simply because I personally used it in my Fanfictions.)

Ezelo: „Er sollte nie erfahren, dass ich mit Stadt-Minish ein Blind-Date mache." DT: „He should never learn, that I with City-Minish a Blind-Date doing." EQ: "He should never learn that I'm going on a Blind-Date with a City-Minish." OE: "I have to make sure he doesn't find out I'm going to all the singles' parties in town. He's sure to rat on me!"

Ezelo: „Danke. Du siehst intelligent aus, mein Junge." DT/EQ: „"Thanks. You appear intelligent (x), my lad." OE: "Your eyes show the light of wisdom!"

3. „AUSBILDUNG NR. 1" DT/EQ: „"TRAINING NO. 1" OE: "FIRST TRAINING ASSIGNMENT"

Ezelo: „Am Gebirgspass hinter dem Tyloria-Wald findest du das Heilkraut Kore-Kore. Bring es zu mir, Vaati." DT: „On (the) mountain-pass behind the Tyloria-Forest find you the healing-herb Kore-Kore. Bring it to me, Vaati." EQ: "On the mountain-pass behind Tyloria-Forest, you can find the healing-herb Kore-Kore. Bring it to me, Vaati." OE: "An herb called korekore grows on the mountain beyond the Minish Woods. Go get some, Vaati."

Vaati: „Jawohl, Meister!" DT/EQ: „"Yessir, Master!" OE: "Okay, Master!"

Erzähler: „Vaati ging mit aller Kraft. Er gab sich Mühe und ging den Pass hoch." DT: „Vaati went with all power. He gave himself effort and went the pass high." EQ: "Vaati went with all his might. He gave the effort and went up the pass." OE: "Vaati walked for days through the forest. He climbed the treacherous mountain slopes." (NOTE: „sich bemühe" again. Also, slightly idiomatic.)

Erzähler: „Doch da war das Kraut nicht zu finden." DT: „Still there was the herb not to find." EQ: "Still, the herb was not to be found." OE: "But he couldn't find any korekore."

Wald-Minish: „Kore-Kore? Das ist nur ein Gerücht... Ein Weiser müsste das doch wissen?" DT: „Kore-Kore? That is only a rumour... A Sage must that still know?" EQ: "Kore-Kore? That's only a rumour... A Sage must surely know that?" OE: "Korekore doesn't grow here. Any Sage oughta know that."

Ezelo: „Mann, bist du unreif, Vaati." DT/EQ: „"Man, are you immature, Vaati." OE: "You have learned your first lesson, Vaati." (NOTE: "Immature" in the sense of "inexperienced".)

Ezelo: „Du wirst nie ein Wieser, wenn du so naiv bist. Hö Hö Hö" DT: „You will never a Sage, if you so naïve are. Ho Ho Ho" EQ: "You'll never be a Sage if you're so naïve. Ho Ho Ho" OE: "You can't believe everything you hear. Don't be a schmuck! HO HO HO"

Vaati: „Der alte Sack!!" DT: „The old sod!!" EQ: "You old sod!!" OE: "Sadistic old goat!" (NOTE: Believe it or not, it could also mean "You old bastard!!")

4. „AUSBILDUNG NR. 2" DT/EQ: „"TRAINING NO. 2" OE: "SECOND TRAINING ASSIGNMENT"

Ezelo: „Vaati. Ich will dich nicht ärgern. Das wichtigste Element für einen Weisen ist..." DT: „Vaati. I want you not anger. The most-important element for a Sage is..." EQ: "Vaati. I don't want to anger you. The most-important element for a Sage is..." OE: "Vaati, I'm not hard on you because I enjoy it. The thing a Sage needs more than anything else..."

Ezelo: „...die Stärke des Herzens!! Verstehst du?" DT: „...the strength (of) the heart!! Understand you?" EQ: "...the strength of heart!! Do you understand?" OE: "...is a strong spirit. Do you understand?"

Vaati: „Ja, Meister!!" DT/EQ: „"Yes, Master!!" OE: "Yes, Master!"

Ezelo: „Also, deswegen... Nun, ja..." DT: „So, therefore... Well, yes..." EQ: "So, therefore... Well, yeah..." OE: "Good! Because I... ...I... Umm..."

Ezelo: „Ich hab versehentlich deinen Spielstand gelöscht... Mit geistiger Stärke wirst du es aber glatt durchspielen, oder?!" DT: „I (x) accidentally your game-score deleted... With mental strength will you it but plain/smooth play-through, or?!" EQ: "I accidentally deleted your game-score. With mental strength, you'll smoothly play it through, right?!" OE: "I accidentally erased all your saved games. Remember, life is a big adventure... Just think of this as a re-spawn point."

Vaati: „Irgendwann werde ich mich an ihm rächen...!!" DT: „Someday will I me on him revenge...!!" EQ: "Someday, I will take revenge on him...!!" OE: "Someday I'm gonna give him a hard re-boot for this!"

5. „SO EINE ÜBERRASCHUNG" DT: „SO A SURPRISE" EQ: "WHAT A SURPRISE" OE: "A SURPRISE BOX"

Erzähler: „Vaati plante inbrünstig, seinen Meister zu erschrecken." DT: „Vaati planned fervently, his Master to scare." EQ: "Vaati planned fervently to scare his Master." OE: "Vaati burned with desire to exact revenge on Master Ezlo."

Vaati: „Locken in seine Wimpern... Wasabi in seinen Tee..." DT/EQ: „"Curls in his eyelashes... Wasabi in his tea..." OE: "I'll shave his eyebrows... ...Or put mustard in his tea!"

Vaati: „Oder ich schenke ihm einen Schachtelteufel..." DT: „Or I give him a jack-in-the-box..." EQ: "Or, I'll give him a jack-in-the-box..." OE: "I know! I'll give him a box of exploding cigars!" (NOTE: Things like this are why I love Vaati. Just how on earth did he go from jack-in-the-box to stealing the Magic Hat?)

Vaati: „Ja, das ist gut!" DT/EQ: „"Yes, this is good!" OE: "Yeah! That's it!"

Toneffekte: „SCHRECK" DT/EQ: „"FRIGHT" OE: "D'OH!"

Vaati: „Meister, was...?" DT/EQ: „"Master, what...?" OE: "W-What's this, Master?"

Ezelo: „Oh, ein Geschenk für dich. Öffne die Kiste!" DT/EQ: „"Oh, a present for you. Open the box!" OE: "I got you a present. Open it."

Ezelo: „Sofort!!" DT/EQ: „"Immediately!!" OE: "Just open the thing up already!" (NOTE: To quote my old English teacher, "Immediately, if not sooner!")

Toneffekte: „Bumm Bubumm" DT/EQ: „"Bamm badamm" OE: "GULP CRINKLE CRINKLE" (NOTE: In English, the sound-effect is the crinkling of the wrapping paper, but in both German and the original Japanese, it's Vaati's heart pounding.)

Kuchen: „Merry X-Mas Mein Schüler Vaati. Klasse Leistung! Weiter so!" DT: „Merry X-Mas My student Vaati. Classy performance! Continue so!" EQ: "My X-Mas My student Vaati. Great performance! Keep it up!" OE: "Merry X-Mas My pupil Vaati I'm very proud of you for all your hard work!" (NOTE: Idiomatic.)

Vaati: „Meister..." DT/EQ: „"Master..." OE: "M-Master..."

Ezelo: „Ähm... ächem. Die Menschen feiern Weihnachten... im Winter. Ich hab das mal nachgeahmt." DT: „Um... ahem. The humans celebrate Christmas... in (the) winter. I (x) that (softener) imitated." EQ: "Um... ahem. The humans celebrate Christmas in winter. I imitated that." OE: "Cough... Cough... In the wintertime, humans celebrate something called Christmas. I sorta copied it."

Vaati: „Meister... Weihnachten ist längst vorbei. Schnüff" DT/EQ: „"Master... Christmas is long past. Sniffle" OE: "Master... SNIFF Christmas was MONTHS ago!"

Ezelo: „Ach, Ruhe! Jetzt schneid den Kuchen an!" DT/EQ: „"Oh, quiet! Now cut the cake (x)!" OE: "Vaati... ...Just shut up and cut the cake!" (NOTE: „anschneiden".)

Erzähler: „Superwarmes Herz, auch im Winter." DT/EQ: „"Super-warm heart, even in (the) winter." OE: "It was a Merry Mushroom that winter."

Erzähler: „ENDE." DT/EQ: „"END." OE: "THE END"

[torentialtribute]

Liverpool uncovered: Simon Mignolet on losing his place to the best keeper he’s ever seen

Liverpool suffered a heartbreak in Barcelona on Wednesday night, but their quest to win the Premier League is still alive. It has been a remarkable campaign and with 91 points on the board, they will chase Manchester City all the way to the line.

Ahead of Saturday's crucial trip to Newcastle, long-serving goalkeeper Simon Mignolet told Sportsmail the story of the season from the players' perspective.

The Belgian has been on the journey every step of the way, seeing the highs and lows, and knows Liverpool can still dream.

Simon Mignolet has an important presence in the field for Liverpool this campaign

The Belgian believes the group at Anfield have what it takes to be champions one day

DREAMING BIG

After reaching the Champions League final last May, Liverpool made four big summer signings and enjoyed a fruitful start to the season. The key moment for the squad, though, was the night Paris Saint-Germain came to town in September and were tasks apart.

SIMON MIGNOLET: It all started so well. We had four victories before the first international break. When we came back we had Tottenham at Wembley and PSG at home in the Champions League, two of the best teams in the world in quick succession.

We beat Spurs 2-1, then scored three against PSG and blew them away. If we could play like that against Edinson Cavani, Neymar and Kylian Mbappe, why couldn't we do it to everyone else? We knew, there and then, we didn't need to be afraid of anyone.

We had a good run in the previous season but we knew people would wonder if we could sustain it. So that game was the benchmark. That's where it all started.

Mignolet spoke exclusively to Sportsmail's Dominic King about Liverpool's season so far

SQUAD UNITY

Jurgen Klopp has stressed how well run Liverpool's dressing cream is. Mignolet's role may have changed over the last 12 months but he is an important member behind the scenes and the inclusive atmosphere has been crucial to maintaining form.

SM: I've never been in a dressing room where there is no trouble at some stage.

There's always going to be something where someone doesn't talk to someone else or they don't get on.

Alongside his prolific goalscoring, Sadio Mane also tries to make his team-mates laugh

But that's not the case with this squad. It's been that way for a year. Nobody is talking behind anyone's back, nobody has a grudge.

Sadio Mane always tries to be the joker but his jokes aren't always funny – people ended up laughing with him, rather than at the joke he made!

There's a lot of banter going on … Robbo (Andy Robertson), Milly (James Milner), Virg (Virgil van Dijk) – it comes from all sides.

Mignolet also identified James Milner (left) and Andrew Robertson as two of the biggest jokers

WORRYING TIMES

It's easy to look at Liverpool's results and think progress has been smooth, but that's not the case. Autumn brought some below-standard league performances and poor results in the Champions League. A 2-0 defeat at Red Star Belgrade was a line in the sand.

SM: October and November was a rough patch. We lost to Napoli away, drew with Manchester City at home, drew at Arsenal and then lost to Belgrade. Everything that could have gone wrong that night did go wrong.

The main thing that came out of it was doubt. The manager was so unhappy. We stayed over in Belgrade and the big question we asked was: "Why are we doing this?" It turned out to be a game we learned more from. We had to make sure it didn't happen in the Premier League.

A shock defeat at Red Star Belgrade proved to be a significant turning point

DEFINING DAYS

Lift-off for Liverpool came on December 2, when they dramatically beat Everton 1-0 in the Merseyside derby with an injury-time goal from Divock Origi. The victories that resonated most, however, will come as a surprise.

SM: I don't show my feelings a lot but when Divock scored I jumped off the bench! I was sat next to Adam Lallana and James Milner and the noise at the stage was incredible. That win was huge.

But I will pick another three out: Brighton away in January. We had two lost games against Manchester City and Wolves, and the match was dead, no chances for either team. Then Mo (Salah) scored a penalty. A week later, we beat Crystal Palace 4-3. A crazy game but so, so important. Those six points were massive. One slip and it makes a hell of a difference. Then recently we had Cardiff.

Like Belgrade, everything was set up there for us to fail. A dry pitch, 30-degree heat. What we did that day to win 2-0 made it one of our best performances.

Mignolet identified Divock Origi's late Merseyside derby winner as a 'huge' moment

MAGICAL MO

Salah has enjoyed another outstanding season and could well retain the Golden Boot. If he does, Mignolet will have his bit to help done.

SM: He sits next to me on the coach when we travel to games. He asks me about penalties and what ideas the opposition goalkeeper will have. I'll tell him he should do this or that. We practice penalties the day before a game and we work together.

I try to do the same as the keeper he will face the next day, to make it as realistic as possible.

The big thing about Mo? He is a cult hero in Egypt. People forget how big a figure he is in the Muslim world.

Mohamed Salah could win the Golden Boat again after another outstanding scoring season

We went to Dubai in January for a training camp and he was everywhere. He's like a statue.

He carries all that on his shoulders and he does it so well, like the pressure is nothing. He's down to earth, still the same guy as he was when he signed. Everywhere we go there is attention for him.

When there are crowds around the coach shouting 'Salah! Salah! " we join in with them and make it funny.

But he has an example to give. He has got so much talent but he works so hard to help.

Mignolet praised the way the Egyptian forward handles all of the pressure of his status

PERSONAL ANGUISH

Mignolet has not played in the Premier League this season. The £ 65million signing of Alisson Becker made him No 2 but he has blocked out any personal disappointment. His attitude is so good that both Klopp and Milner have highlighted his role.

SM: Me and my missus are building a house in Spain. I speak a few languages ​​and last year we decided to take Spanish lessons. Then Ali came and I don't need lessons any more if I speak Spanish with him!

As a goalkeeper, you learn from the guys you work with. He is Brazil No 1 ahead of Ederson. The main difference between the two is that Ali is probably better with his hands. He's the most complete goalkeeper I've seen in my career. He is so calm.

Not playing is the hard bit, the feeling of being on the pitch at the end when you've won is what I miss most. I understand how people who don't play stop doing their work. That's why I push myself every day. I get in the gym at 9am. The boys must look at me and think, "What's that idiot doing there again?"

Alisson is established as Liverpool's first-choice stopper and Mignolet called him 'complete'

THE FINAL ACT

Mignolet was part of the last Reds squad who challenged for the title, in 2014. Whatever happens in the next week, he believes this group has what it takes to be champions one day.

SM: The manager is perfect for the club. His vision and his character embodied what the fans live for. The style of play we have is what the supporters want, they want to see fire. They want to see Liverpool pushing, fighting.

It would be strange – and very frustrating – if we didn't win anything, but the only thing that would stop it is the opposition (Manchester City) being so good . All credit to them if that's the case. The amount of points we've accumulated would mean we are champions in a normal year.

We've been through the process to get where we want to be and the squad have grown. We should get something one day.

Mignolet was a part of Liverpool's 2014 title-challenging side and played in defeat by Chelsea

Source link

[citizenscreen]

This tradition began four years ago when I thought of no better way to share the joy of the season on this blog than to spread the magic of movies. In a Christmassy sort of way. ‘Tis the season, after all and paying movies forward in hopes that these memorable distractions take your minds off negative goings on is now my December lot in life. I’m asking that you join me, recommend your favorites and #PayClassicsForward on your blogs and across social media.

Give the gift of movies

I realize I am publishing this post much later in December than I have in the past, which leaves you little time to play with it if you are up for the challenge. However, if you are interested here’s the challenge…pick movie recommendations to the “12 Days of Christmas” theme as I’ve done below. Keep in mind that movie choices should be those you think would appeal to non classics fans and there can be no repeats. Let’s grow our community and #PayClassicsForward

Have fun!

On the first day of Christmas, etc., etc., etc…

One dream

Excluding the mother of all dream sequences, that is when Dorothy befriends a Tin Man, a Scarecrow, and a lion in a magical land, then I must go with a telling of Charles Dickens’ 1843 classics, A Christmas Carol. I didn’t set out to choose a Christmas story for this, but perused several lists of dream sequences in movies and was shocked that Ebenezer Scrooge’s legendary journey was not even mentioned. I correct that oversight with this entry as it is a dream to fill the heart.

Of all the adaptations of Dickens’ story about morality, human frailty, and redemption the best is Brian Desmond-Hurst’s 1951 movie starring Alastair Sim as Ebenezer Scrooge. This version of A Christmas Carol is good enough to watch all the year with Sim’s nuanced, affecting performance a standout. If you are a rotten person you might want to dream as Scrooge does in this movie and if you are a kind-hearted sort you might want to be reminded of why that matters.

Alastair Sim as Ebenezer Scrooge

  Two islands

I could have gone with fun times and music for this category, but decided on gloom and doom instead. Take a look and you won’t forget Earle C. Kenton’s Island of Lost Souls (1932), which features a terrifically creepy performance by Charles Laughton. Next I suggest you gather with seven guests who are picked off one by one in Rene Clair’s And Then There Were None (1945) based on one of Agatha Christie’s most famous whodunnits.

Island of Lost Souls

Before there were none in And Then There Were None

  Three gentlemen

No surprise here. See everything they’ve ever done.

  Four speeches

From Chaplin’s The Great Dictator (1940)

Hynkel/A Jewish Barber:

“I should like to help everyone if possible; Jew, Gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other’s happiness, not by each other’s misery. We don’t want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone, and the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way…”

  From Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather (1972)

Don Vito Corleone:

“But I’m a superstitious man, and if some unlucky accident should befall him… if he should be shot in the head by a police officer, or if he should hang himself in his jail cell, or if he’s struck by a bolt of lightning, then I’m going to blame some of the people in this room, and that I do not forgive.”

  From Capra’s Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)

Jefferson Smith:

“Liberty’s too precious a thing to be buried in books, Miss Saunders. Men should hold it up in front of them every single day of their lives and say: I’m free to think and to speak. My ancestors couldn’t, I can, and my children will. Boys ought to grow up remembering that.”

  From Robert Mulligan’s To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)

Atticus Finch:

“Now, gentlemen, in this country, our courts are the great levelers. In our courts, all men are created equal. I’m no idealist to believe firmly in the integrity of our courts and of our jury system – that’s no ideal to me. That is a living, working reality! Now I am confident that you gentlemen will review, without passion, the evidence that you have heard, come to a decision and restore this man to his family. In the name of GOD, do your duty. In the name of God, believe… Tom Robinson.”

  Five golden rings

Not that kind of ring! This kind…

Mark Robson’s The Harder They Fall (1956)

  Robert Rossen’s Body and Soul (1947)

  Reuben Mamoulian’s Golden Boy (1939)

  Michael Curtiz’s Kid Galahad (1937)

Edward G. Robinson and Bette Davis in Kid Galahad

  Eddie Buzzell’s The Big Timer (1932)

Ben Lyon and Constance Cummings in The Big Timer

  There are quite a few great boxing movies that most have seen like the ones with that Balboa guy. I chose a few that you may not have and should. By the way, I want extra points with Santa for not listing Elvis’ Kid Galahad (1962).

  Six Acting-related Stories

Assuming everyone has seen Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard, Joseph Mankiewicz’s All About Eve, and the Donen/Kelly vehicle with dignity, always dignity, Singin’ in the Rain then I suggest the following glittering stories…

Victor Fleming’s Bombshell 1933)

George Cukor’s A Double Life (1947)

Robert Florey’s Hollywood Boulevard (1936)

Joseph Pevney’s Man of a Thousand Faces (1957)

Graeme Clifford’s Frances (1982)

Stuart Heisler’s The Star (1952)

The Star

Bombshell

Man of a Thousand Faces

Frances

Hollywood Boulevard

A Double Life

  Seven drinks

I thought it’d be fun to spread the joy with ideas for classic imbibing. Here are just seven of the many drinks had throughout yesteryear in the movies.

The Thin Man Martini

“…a Manhattan you shake to a Foxtrot, a Bronx to a two-step, but a Dry martini you should always shake to waltz time.”

1 1/2 oz Dry Gin

3/4 oz Dry Vermouth

Instructions:

Pour into a cocktail shaker, shake and strain into a chilled martini glass.

  The Casablanca Champagne Cocktail

Victor Laszlo’s drink.

Champagne Cocktail 1 bitters-soaked sugar cube 1 oz brandy or cognac Brut champagne Twist of lemon, for garnish

Place your sugar cube on top of the bitters bottle. While holding it in place with your finger, flip the bottle upside down until the sugar cube is saturated. Drop the sugar cube into a champagne flute and add your cognac or brandy. Top with Brut champagne, garnish with lemon and enjoy.

  Margo Channing and the “bumpy night” Gibson

This cocktail is also notable for making a cameo in the train car in North by Northwest, but Margot gets the official shout out today.

Gibson Classic Cocktail

4 parts gin 1 part dry vermouth pearl cocktail onion Combine the gin and vermouth in a shaker over ice. Shake and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a pearl onion.

  The��Some Like it Hot Manhattan

This whiskey cocktail is popular in Wilder’s film and best served after stirring/mixing with a drumstick, cymbal, and hot water bottle on a trail with Sweet Sue and Her Society Syncopaters.

Ingredients:

2 oz bourbon 1 ox Italian sweet vermouth 2 dashes Angostura bitters

Recipe: 

Combine all the ingredients in a shaker. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and enjoy.

  Blue Hawaii Mai Tai

1 oz white rum

½ oz Orgeat syrup

½ oz Cointreau

2 oz pineapple juice

1 oz orange juice

Dark Rum float (such as Koloa dark rum)

Pineapple spear and lime (for garnish)

Mix white rum, Orgeat, Cointreau, pineapple and orange juices in a shaker filled with ice. Pour drink into a glass with the ice, and float the dark rum on top. Top with pineapple spear and lime wedge.

Made by Angela Lansbury this is sure to be a hit at any party.

  The Breakfast at Tiffany’s Mississippi Punch

2 oz / 50 ml cognac 1 oz / 25 ml bourbon 1⁄2 oz / 12.5 ml lemon juice 1⁄2 oz / 12.5 ml sugar syrup 1 oz / 25 ml dark rum

Shake all the ingredients except the rum with crushed ice and pour into a Collins glass, unstrained. Top the glass with more crushed ice, gently pour over the rum and garnish with an orange slice and a cherry.

  The Scotch Mist from The Big Sleep

It’s important to offer a darker choice so I went for the kind of drink a femme fatale would order when sitting next to Humphrey Bogart.

Ingredients :

2 oz. whiskey (whiskey, bourbon)

2 oz. crushed ice

1 twist lemon peel

Pack a collins glass with crushed ice. Pour in scotch. Add the twist of lemon peel and serve with a straw. No garnish because garnish doesn’t fit in a dirty little world.

  Eight silents

I know many classic film fans that have not taken the journey into silent film. That was me when I started this blog, but since I’ve made a concerted effort to watch a silent film when time allows. There’s no doubt I would recommend some of the popular greats to the silent movie novice, or films made by the three comedy megastars and the likes of Metropolis or Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, to name just two. This past year I saw most of the following lesser-known gems for the first time and recommend them without hesitation.

Victor Sjöström’s The Wind (1928)

Erich von Stroheim’s Foolish Wives (1922)

Per Lindberg’s Norrtullsligan (The Nortull Gang ) (1923)

Leo McCarey’s Mighty Like a Moose (1926)

Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle’s The Cook (1918)

Lois Weber’s Suspense (1913)

Paul Leni’s The Cat and the Canary (1927)

Fred Guiol’s Duck Soup (1927)

Duck Soup

Foolish Wives

Mighty Like a Moose

Norrtullsligan

Suspense

The Cat and the Canary

The Cook

The Wind

  Nine Child Performances

No explanation needed for this lot of talented young ‘uns.

Roddy McDowall in John Ford’s How Green Was My Valley (1941)

Patty McCormack as Rhoda in Mervyn LeRoy’s The Bad Seed (1956)

Salvatore Cascio as Toto in Giuseppe Tornatore‘s Cinema Paradiso (1988)

Jackie Coogan in Charlie Chaplin’s The Kid (1921)

George Winslow in anything, but for now I’ll go for his performance in Howard Hawks’ Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953)

Enzo Staiola as Bruno in Vittorio De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves (1948)

Virginia Weidler as Dinah Lord in George Cukor’s The Philadelphia Story (1940)

Patty Duke as Helen Keller in Arthur Penn’s The Miracle Worker (1962)

Eva Lee Kuney as Trina in George Stevens’ Penny Serenade (1941)

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

  Ten Stars and their Dogs

I recently read a startling statistic. It turns out that dogs given to children for Christmas often end up in pounds. Having a pet is a huge responsibility and it should be a choice for life, rather than looked at as a toy. So, if you are inclined to purchase a puppy or kitten for Christmas and haven’t thought about it carefully, spend your time looking at these images instead…

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Cat lovers can feast their eyes on this gallery of Cats and Movie Stars.

  Eleven heist movies

Jules Dassin’s Rififi (1955)

Stanley Kubrick’s The Killing (1956)

Sidney Lumet’s Dog Day Afternoon (1975)

John Huston’s The Asphalt Jungle (1950)

Joseph Sargent’s The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974)

Norman Jewison’s The Thomas Crown Affair (1968)

Raoul Walsh’s High Sierra (1941)

Jean-Pierre Melville‘s Bob Le Flambeur (1956)

Robert Siodmak’s Criss Cross (1949)

Mario Monicelli‘s Big Deal on Madonna Street (1958)

Fabián Bielinsky‘s Nueve Reinas (Nice Queens) (2000) – I was introduced to this Argentine gem during a course I took on heist films. It immediately became a favorite. Although it’s a contemporary movie, I know all classics fans would love it. It’s a twisty, well-acted labyrinth that’s well worth your time.

  Twelve Days

I would have included Dog Day Afternoon and The Taking of Pelham… here, but no repeats allowed. These are movies with stories that take place in one day.

Fred Zinnemann’s High Noon (1952)

George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1968)

Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope (1958)

Sidney Lumet’s 12 Angry Men (1957)

Ridley Scott’s Alien (1979)

Frank Capra’s Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)

Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon (1950)

Mike Nichols’ Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolfe? (1966)

Sidney Lumet’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night (1962)

Walter Hill’s The Warriors (1979)

Carl Th. Dreyer’s The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928)

Fleming, Cukor et al…The Wizard of Oz (1939)

◊

Till next year, my friends.

#PayClassicsForward

Aurora

  #PayClassicsForward for Christmas This tradition began four years ago when I thought of no better way to share the joy of the season on this blog than to spread the magic of movies.

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

Winx Alt Con Season 02 Recap:

Previously: season 01, Weeks 9.2, 10/11, 12, 13, 14

Week 15: Episodes 212, 213, (partial) 214, 215

With two out of four magical macguffins missing, The Winx convince a few of the older students to help them train after classes. One of the students wants them to focus on thinking outside the square, using what they know from a sideways perspective.

She takes them down to the Magical Reality Chamber and sends them in, telling them to trying finding new ways to combine their powers, every trick they have in their arsenal, is one step further away from defeat.

Plus it's a great way to learn things you didn't know about your abilities.

With the pixies watching from the control room, the older student boots up the MRC.

The Winx are faced with an unusual, and somewhat hostile world, their enemy though, is a single large beast. The girls begin by flinging magic at it, but the monster only grows in size.

They dodge its attacks while they strategize, coming up with an idea that might work. Remembering what they'd been told about magical and physical immunities rarely overlapping, the girls swap in and out, distracting the monster while the build a titan of their own to beat the monster in combat.

Aisha crafts the body's base out of morphix, Flora gives it a skeletal system of wood and vines, adding in some hair just because it happened that way. Stella gives it eyes to see, Tecna and Bloom give it a brain and free will/intuition, and then Musa steps in.

The fairy of music gives the titan the ability to hear and speak, but Musa can also hear discord in their titan's being. She steps up and finds a way to harmonize the various magics, so the titan doesn't fall apart.

Once complete, the titan goes on the offensive and beats the monster soundly, ending the simulation.

The older student runs the simulation applauds them, then asks what they plan to do with their new friend, since the titan hasn't dissolved. Uncertain, the group calls down Faragonda, who takes several moments to be flabbergasted by what the girls have done, creating an artificial, magical life form. (not unheard of, but not typically first year magic, even by accident.)

The titan, being both sentient and sapient, is alive, and none of the fairies want to kill it/her, so Faragonda offers to let the titan stick around and figure out what she wants to do.

(The titan later takes up the name Titania, and can often be seen playing with Kiko and the pixies, or helping Knut maintain the grounds around Alfea.)

 Later in the week, Bloom finds Faragonda and talks to her about the break in at her mother's flower shop several weeks prior. Vanessa has gotten in contact with Bloom because a court date is coming up. Bloom is hoping to get the day off to be with her mother for it. Faragonda allows it, as long as Bloom doesn't go alone.

(Bloom mentions Earth's/California's truancy laws, and Faragonda writes up several 'day passes' for Bloom and the Winx.)

Musa and Tecna decline going, mentioning they've been talking with some people from Magix and the other schools, and have decided to help out with the concert the Magix council wants to host, to celebrate the last of the repairs in the city. (things go a lot faster with magical assistance.)

Aisha volunteers her assistance with the concert, and Bloom wishes them luck. Stella says she would help, but she wants to support Bloom, the girls agree Stella can step in later, and that supporting their friend is important too. Flora chooses to go with Bloom and Stella to Earth. The pixies all choose to stick with their respective fairies.

 On Earth, the trio of fairies spend the day with Vanessa, who is thrilled to meet Flora, a fellow plant lover. The girls are confused to realise Vanessa and Mike (who is also there to support his wife during the trial) can't see the pixies, until Stella gives them 'clarity of vision', an ability she learnt from her mother, who comes from a line of seers.

Random children they pass though, seem to have no trouble seeing the pixies, and the girls file that away to think about later.

 In Magix, the group of students and council members for Magix meet to discuss the concert. During the repairs, the governing body of Magix took the opportunity to upgrade some infrastructure, including an outdoor theatre, and they'd like to open it with a concert to commemorate the lost, and celebrate moving forward.

The group discus some things they'd like to do for the concert, and move their meeting to the new amphitheatre, to get a feel for the space.

Unbeknownst to the group, Stormy has grown bored waiting around for Darkar and Icy to come up with a new plan for finding the pixie village, (since he, apparently, has a plan already in play for Alfea) and has gone out by herself to wreak some havoc.

She stumble across the concert group in Magix, and decides to rain on their parade by summoning up a destructive storm.

At first, the group don't pay much attention to the sudden rain, beyond noting the oddly sudden change in the weather. It's not until it gets intense enough to start pulling signs from their foundations that someone realises the storm is very localised.

By this time, the wind is too much for any of them to fly through, and they can't find the source of the storm, so Musa suggests weather magic, reminding the other fairies of their first lecture with Avalon.

Musa summons a small hand drum, sets a beat and starts dancing, Aisha and Tecna falling into step, with the other Alfea students present joining in soon after. As the weather starts to lose intensity, the witches, heroes and even the council members begin to copy the fairies movements. Soon the storm begins to die down, then fall apart.

With the storm dissipated, Stormy appears before them, and in a fit of rage, hurls a bolt of lighting at the group, but Musa bring her drum up and strikes it, letting loose an unbelievable crash like thunder, causing the lightning to explode on itself midstrike, flinging the Trix back through the sky.

With a snarl she disappears, and everyone turns to Musa, who seems shocked at what she's just done. When asked how she did that, Musa can only shake her head and admit that she doesn't know, that she just felt 'very powerful in that moment.'

Riven, who was there to pilot the Red Fountain students, and had been the first of the heroes to join in, posits that as the fairy of music, maybe she'd been empowered by the 'anti-rain dance' and its accompanying song, since they'd all been acting in concert to the music Musa had provided on the drum. The group agree that's about as likely as any other explanation, and the very grateful council members get the group back on track for the concert, as soon as they put out an alert for Stormy with the local law enforcement.

 On Earth, after the trial wraps up, Mike and Vanessa take the trio of fairies and their pixies out for pizza, and ask the girls how school has been going. They are aware of the siege and Darkar, thanks to phone calls with Bloom, but hearing it in person makes it more real.

Bloom also, hesitantly and for the first time, tells her parents about Daphne and their shared parentage. She begins rambling as she tries to explain, and she just keeps talking trying to get it all out, and then a secret slips out amidst the verbal vomit.

Bloom is scared and confused and worried and lost. Her sense of identity has taken a hit, and between Bloom Peters, Earth girl, and Pyra, lost princess of Domino, she isn't sure who she is any more. Part of her wants to embrace her lost heritage, but part of her is afraid embracing it will mean loosing her Earth identity, her Earth family.

Her parents comfort her immediately, letting her know that no matter what, she will always be part of their family, and that Daphne, ghostly or otherwise, is welcome as well, they won't make her choose.

Flora tells Bloom, that she has a few truths about her: Bloom is a kind person, a great leader, and an artistic soul, but before anything else, she is their friend, she just needs to find something about herself that doesn't change, and start from there, no matter how long it takes, they'll be there while she figures herself out.

Stella agrees completely, pressing herself bodily and magically against Bloom in a hug that lets the fire fairy feel the love and support Stella had for her.

Surrounded by their love, Bloom finds peace within herself, a certainty of self she'd lost somewhere along the way.

Her magic surges and blossoms, and her Charmix materialises.

Which leads to a whole new round of celebration. (after a lengthy explanation of fairy levels and transformations and such, and why this was such a big deal.)

 That night, back at Alfea, the group catches up, and Bloom decides she'll begin writing and drawing a 'memoir' of sorts for her parents, so they can share in the adventures she's had.

In the meantime, the girls talk about the concert for Magix.

Given the reason for the concert, the heads of the schools allow the students to have half days in order to be ready for the weekend, since the Magix council want the concert to take place as soon as possible, to show the Magical Dimension they're back on their feet.

Riven makes an effort to help behind the scenes, as part of his 'I need to unlearn how to be an arsehole' self improvement project. He and Musa discover they get along pretty well, having quite a few things in common, like the fact they both have scholarships to their respective schools.

Musa, having heard the whole story of 'why Riven is the way he is', has helped come up with a few tricks (mostly specific hand signs) so that the group (the Winx and Specialists) can tell Riven he's being an arsehole, without actually being confrontational.

(The most used hand sign is 'run that by me again,' which is for moments when Riven says something super offensive or just outright annoying, and the group want to be sure he knows what he said wrong, and that he meant it. Most of the time it turns out he's just worded something badly and it's come out ruder than he intended. It goes a long way to helping group unity, and they find themselves using the signs for other team members, not just Riven.)

For the closing act, Musa and a few other students, and volunteers from Magix, write a song about the unity between the very different groups.

Stella helps organise the wardrobes, Tecna runs a team in charge of the electronics, and Aisha gets right into helping the dancers, one of whom is Mirta. (Musa has been unanimously voted In Charge of the project as their resident Fairy of Music, but also as the only person who has any experience in setting up a concert from scratch.) Bloom and Flora find places and people to help out amidst the preparations.

 The evening of the concert arrives, all the performers are nervous, they've done the best they could in the time they had, and they all plan to give it their all.

Musa has an additional reason to be nervous however, she's invited her father to come watch the performance. Musa is trying to show her father how much music means to her, not just because of her mother, but because music is who she is.

When the concert starts though, Musa and the other performers set their worries aside so they can give their best possible performances.

The show gets off to a great starts, all the acts go flawlessly, but as the evening progresses, dark clouds begin to gather over head, and thunder rumbles across the sky. When Musa steps on stage during the later half of the concert, a bolt of lightning strikes the stage, causing several of the lights and speakers to explode. Musa is flung across the stage, and in the crowd, her friends are scared, but the fairy of music gets back up quickly.

From the darkness overhead, Stormy descends, her Gloomix glowing an unusually bright, and menacing red.

Stormy calls Musa out for what happened a few days prior, saying that how ever Musa managed to fight her off, it won't happen again. Amongst the crowd, in strategic locations for just this scenario, fairies, witches and wizards bring up shields to protect the crowd. With the number of civilians in the area, there aren't a lot of people free to combat Stormy. Musa loudly declares that she beat Stormy before, and she can do it again.

Stormy proceeds to trounce her for several minutes before Riven manages to get close enough to Mirta to call out a plan to her. Mirta smirks and casts illusions all throughout the crowd, lyrics and the music for their concert's final song.

The Winx, and the members of the concert who were there for the last confrontation, realise what Riven is planning, and start singing, making music with hands and feet and instruments, and focusing on Musa. As the rest of the crowd looks at the music makers and the lyrics in confusion, Riven sprints through the masses, calling out for people to sing, that Musa if the Fairy of Music.

An older man vaults onto the stage and settles himself down in front of the piano, joining the song. At the back of the crown, a young woman with a long, pale blonde ponytail summons a small orchestra of instruments and helps out as well. (spoiler alert, it's Galatea.)

Musa feels the power swelling up inside her, and quickly turns the tide of battle.

Stormy is enraged as she is beaten back again, by the fairy, and attempts to summon a powerful lightning elemental.

On stage the man at the piano calls out in fear for Musa, who turns to him and asks for him to trust her, because this is who she is.

They share a moment as he agrees, and Musa feels like she's pushed through an obstacle she didn't even realise she was trying to overcome. A bright light flares on her chest and around her waist as her Charmix finally manifests, multiplying her powers even further.

She wraps Stormy in a bubble of percussive force, the elemental she was attempting to call falls to pieces, and the witch's ears start to bleed, her screams swallowed up by Musa's unrelenting display of power.

With no other recourse, Stormy teleports out.

The crowd cheers, and despite the near disaster, the show goes on, with even more energy than before.

(At Alfea, the students who stayed at the school and watched the concert on tv all break out into cheers as well. In the Headmistress's office, Faragonda and Griselda share a look and break out their celebratory alcohol for a single victory shot each... before writing up a pardon for Musa for classes since the girl will be recovering from her power boost for a few days. (The more a fairy boosts her powers above her normal level, the longer she has to sleep it off.))

Musa rides the high until the last song, which everyone sings along to now that they know the words. Musa has just enough time after the final curtain call to talk to her dad (the man at the piano) before she passes out.

Musa's dad sees his daughter and her friends back to Alfea, before he returns home to Melody.

[crystallinerage]

Road Trip to Confession City

I wrote  something, wow. Its just a classic meteorstuck davekat fic. Anyway I’m not fantastic at writing so feedback is appreciated.(Alt title: Dave Stole Fizzy Lifting Drinks)

The air on the meteor is calm, sedated almost. You and Karkat are just kind of chilling in Can Town, sitting just a little closer than would be considered normal back on Earth, you notice. You tell yourself not to worry about it, Earth's dead, and so are all the bullshit social rules that came with it. So who cares about what would have been okay on Earth, right? But, it doesn't stop the dusting of pink that creeps up your neck and onto your ears from just the thought of being so close.

Shit, come to think of it your hands are almost touching. So close that you could just reach over a little and close the space between you. You don't though. It would be too weird.

Karkat's occupied, scribbling doors and windows onto some cans to make buildings, and rambling about some movie the two of you watched a few nights ago. You're responding, but you have no idea what's coming out of your mouth. You must have said something funny though, because Karkat turns to you and laughs in a way that when you had gotten to the meteor you didn't think he was capable of. It's just so... soft and real.

It slowly dawns on you that you have to do something. Anything, just to get something out to tell him. You don't know if you're ready for this. Or if he is either. Or what you're going to even do. But before you can second guess yourself more, you sit up suddenly. It gets you a questioning look from Karkat. The kind where his thick brows are furrowed together, but one of them is peaked up a bit. Confused, sarcastic, and sort of endearing. Jesus Christ you need to get your shit together.

You lean back on your arm a bit, desperately trying to seem casual, "So uh... you wanna like, go somewhere?"

Fantastic. So well executed. The kind of intelligence and way with words that will get you three straight As on your next English papers. Aren't you just the pinnacle of speech.

Karkat's brows crease further. "Go where? And why, what's wrong with Can Town?"

"I... I'll explain when we get there ok?"

"that sounds extremely suspicious but ok, I guess out of everyone on the meteor you’re the least likely to be the one that does me in for good."

Karkat starts to stand up, raising an eyebrow in your direction. You walk towards the exit and wait as he catches up to you.

You walk in silence for a solid three minutes before either of you says anything. You start to wonder whether this was a good idea. Your stupid god tier pajamas don't have any pockets, so you resort to playing with the edge of your cape. You sneak a look over at Karkat from behind your shades and oh god he's looking at you. It's that look with just the slightest bit of confusion and concern. It makes your hands start to shake. Shit, you're staring now. You snap your gaze forward, hoping he couldn't see your eyes from behind your glasses.

He's still looking at you as he asks, "Hey, um, are you like good? You haven’t said anything for the past three minutes and while I’m usually all for you finally shutting the fuck up I still have no clue where you’re taking me and you’re being really goddamn weird about it."

You shrug and try to laugh it off, "nah dude everything is all good, 100%, The goodest it’s ever been and get this it’s about to be even better because would you look at that we’re here."

You panic a bit as you trail off and end up pulling Karkat into the nearest empty room with you.

Shit.

This was a really bad idea.

The room you’re standing in is almost identical to every other room on the meteor. Same grey walls, tiled floor, and fluorescent lights that strain your eyes even with your shades on. You better be able to bs your way out of this one fast.

You flex your fingers, letting go of the cape you forgot you practically had a death grip on. You get another look at Karkat. Oh no. He’s got that look on his face. The one that’s pretty much his standard brand of mildly-and-constantly angry, but with the slightest bit of anticipation in his eyes. The kind of look you’re only able to recognize because you spend so much time with him. On anyone else it’s a look that’s off putting, but with him it’s vaguely pleasant. It’s in the way he looks just slightly up at you, waiting for you to speak, and inevitably ramble your way into oblivion. Speaking of which, you’re doing it again, staring, that is.

You figure at this point Karkat has had enough of standing in silence having you stare him down, because he folds his arms across his chest, sighs, and says, “Alright, so now I KNOW something is up, you dragged me all the way out here, said next to nothing the entire time we were walking, and now we’re in a room that’s completely indistinguishable from any other room on this god forsaken rock and not to mention completely fucking empty. You still haven’t exactly explained what the hell were doing here, so tell me Strider, What. Is. The Deal?”

You let out a long breath, “Yeah ok I guess keeping you in the dark this whole time may have been a bad idea,”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. You probably deserve that.

“But just hear me out okay?”

“Alright Strider, I’m listening. What could be so incredibly important that you had to drag me out into middle-of-nowhere, Meteor City? Am I about to be graced with the most beautiful and moving rap about puppet ass and this room had the best acoustics? Is that it Dave?”

He’s leaning towards you as he says that. He’s close enough that you can see the way his black mess of hair curls around from behind his ears. You know he was just doing it to be sarcastic and condescending but shit if it doesn’t make your heart rate spike just a little. Nothing life threatening, no heart attacks today, but woah.

You laugh and it comes out a little shaky.

“Okay, okay uh, so this is probably gonna sound really weird but just don’t worry about it. I’m gonna say something that I didn’t want to say while we were in Can Town because there’s so many good memories and shit and us being really good friends-like super fucking good friends-and like hell I want to ruin that for myself,shit Can Town is like the one place I can stand to be for more than like two hours, and I also feel like I’d be kinda ruining the sanctity of it or some shit I don’t know -“

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

You sigh, God why is this so difficult? It’s not that hard Strider, just get those words out of your dumb shit mouth and hop on the feelings train to confession town. Easy peasy lemon squeezy and all that shit.

“Spit it out Dave.”

Of course this would be the one time you find it hard to speak, of course.

“Alright... alright I-I just, I like you ok, like... a lot. And it took me a while to actually realize it because I was just pulling layer and layer of repression over it and I didn’t want to let Rose know about it because I just know she’d go total therapist mode on my sorry ass so I was just kinda silently freaking out for a while and just kept pushing the thought further and further back in my head. As if I just ignored it long enough it’d go away completely. But then you’d do something that’s just completely fucking mundane and stupid and for some bullshit reason it’d like set something off in my head and I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it for literal days on end. And it’s been going on long enough where I kind of had to come to terms with it but as it fucking turns out that doesn’t help! It does exactly jack shit as a matter of fact! It just keeps piling up and the littlest things make my heart speed up and I know I’m kind of throwing a load of shit at you all at once and I basically already know you’re going reject me so hard I’m thrown from this plane of existence but if there’s any chance just... just please tell me you feel the same.”

Oh boy. You realize that that was maybe a lot at once. You cringe inwardly on yourself as you dare another look at Karkat.

He’s… stunned? You assume that would be an appropriate reaction. You have no idea wether it’s good or bad though and it’s eating at you. He looks at his hands, which are halfway inside his sweater sleeves, and back up at you again. There’s something in his eyes that makes you want to cry and scream out of impatience and the smallest, most microscopic bit of hope. You silently will him to say something. Anything really.

He meets your gaze even with your shades on. It’s terrifying, but it’s sincere and filled with earnest. You can see the small patches of red creeping across his face and the hint of a smile on his lips.

“I- oh... oh my god I- holy shit I woah I thought for sure that there was absolutely no way and that came so far out of left field i just woah”

The smile on his face widens, far enough for you to see his sharp teeth. It’s weirdly adorable.

He shakes his head, making his curls bounce out of his face, “I mean Jesus... yeah ok I mean I guess I’ll just cut to the fucking chase here, I like you too, like a whole lot.”

You could swear your feet have lifted off the ground at this point. You can feel how hot your face is and you’re sure you’ve flushed all the way up to your eyebrows. Your heart is moving at a pace you didn’t think was humanly possible. Is this really happening?

“Wait-you’re serious? Like 100% all jokes aside no funny business serious?”

Karkat’s grin threatens to split his face in half.

“yeah... I uh I’m serious.”

“You really like me, you’re sure?”

“yeah, yeah I really really do.”

Holy shit. This is happening. You’re at least an inch off the ground now, you’re sure of it.

Karkat’s fidgeting with his sleeves. You can see his hands shake a little. He looks up at you suddenly, practically bright red (but it’s not like you look much better).

“I- uh can… Can I yknow? Can I kiss you?”

You’re lifted another inch.

“Oh! Shit! I mean yes! Of course, fuck yes you can! God… fuck!”

He takes the two steps towards you that close the space. He hesitates for a second, but puts his hands up and grabs onto the hood of your cape. Oh shit you’re still floating. Embarrassed, you slowly lower your feet back onto the ground. Karkat laughs and, oh god, he leans in so that your foreheads are touching.

“You’re an idiot.”

What remained of the space between you is now gone. His lips are on yours and it’s so… soft. Not like you would expect from the guy that screamed at you for so long he could barely breathe once, but it’s perfect. It’s long and slow and everything you didn’t even know you wanted out of a first kiss. Before you realize what you’re doing you’re pushing your hands up through his hair. It curls around your fingers as you notice that Karkat has pulled you even closer, his arms around your neck.

You break for a second, less than inches away from each other.

“Sorry,” you breathe.

He smiles, “ For what?”

“For taking so long.”

And then you kiss him again.

[writeyouin]

aaaaaaaahhhh your Swerve-fic is so Good™???!?!?!?! like, every time you update, my stomach did that flippity-floppity-floop-thingy in a good way!! is the request still open? if so, can you do a fluffy TFA Wasp with bot!reader? If not, i still love you anyway since you've already a lot of wonderful fanfics! i never got bored reading them over and over and over again!

Wasp X Bot Reader – Together Again

A/N – Thank you so much, I loved looking at this message for inspiration, t was so sweet. It’s a shame I just missed your birthday but here you go @vinnycoco, I hope I did Wasp justice.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Wasp observed happily as you ran up to the Autobot Academy for the first day of training. In all your elation, he thought you were the one thing as perfect as him. Ever since the war with the Decepticons began, the two of you had planned to make it into the elite guard together and now you were taking the first steps towards that goal. Naturally, Wasp had planned even further ahead of that goal; when you both graduated into the guard, he was going to make you his Conjunx Endura.

While thinking of the future, Wasp lost sight of you. When he spotted you again he gritted his dentae together irritably; you were talking to that little yellow pest he’d bumped into before. He wasn’t jealous, he couldn’t be. Jealousy was beneath him, he was simply concerned because, like him, you were much too important to converse with such a lowly bot.

“(Y/N), step away from that; you don’t know where it’s been,” Wasp wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Very funny,” You laughed, waving the insult away. “Have you two met yet? Sweetspark, this is-”

“Filth is what it is. Come now, meet Ironhide, a real bot.”

“HEY!” Bumblebee yelled. “I’M NOT FILTH YOU-”

“Easy, little buddy,” A large green mech hugged him, “let the anger go.”

“I’M NOT YOUR BUDDY!”

After the unusual introduction, the day was filled with tests of strength, speed, intelligence, and more than a few punishments thanks to the yellow bot who’d been dubbed Bumblebee. It was a relief when the group was allowed to go to the shared barracks for a much-needed recharge.

“What a day,” You rubbed your aching pedes, claiming two berths next to each-other for you and Wasp.

“You’re telling me, it was great,” Bulkhead enthused, missing the tone of your vocaliser completely.

You couldn’t help grinning, “It would’ve been easier if there weren’t so many accidents. You and Bee really scrambled Sarge’s circuits.”

“Yeah, uh my bad.”

Bumblebee sniffed indignantly, “Why are you talking to us? Apparently, we’re just filth to you.”

“Filth? Oh yeah, don’t mind what Wasp was saying, he’s just joking with you,” You smiled amiably. “He’s always been like that, I’m sure once you get to know him-”

“GET TO KNOW HIM?! ARE YOU KIDDING?”

“What’s wrong? He’s really nice, I swear.”

“Ugh, what do you even see in a guy like that?”

Wasp entered the room from the wash racks, “Charm, wit, strength; all things you lack.”

“Come on babe, go easy on them, they don’t know you’re joking… you are joking right?” You asked hopefully.

“Joking? Yes, yes, of course.” He pulled you into a hug, glaring at Bumblebee and Bulkhead behind your back. “Stay away,” he mouthed.

“See, look at all of you getting along so well. This is gonna be so great. I’ll see you in a bit, I want to get some time in those wash racks myself. Later, guys.”

Wasp waited till you were gone before openly seething at the two bots in front of him, “You two better recharge with one optic open; things are going to be rough from here on in.”

You aimed a shot over Wasp’s head, shutting down the turret there while Wasp made a leap for the flag ahead of him. The game was a pairs test to see which team could capture the flag in the quickest time; points were awarded for team-work and strategy. Sentinel blew the ending whistle; the two of you had won.

You cheered excitedly, running to Wasp who was wielding the flag proudly and planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Babe, please,” Wasp held out his servo.

“Sorry,” You laughed, “I’ll stop now.”

“Stop? No, I was asking for more.”

“You sure you want another kiss? Aren’t you afraid of looking weaker in front of the other bots?” You teased.

“C’mon, how about making ‘em jealous instead?”

“Later,” You whispered upon the arrival of Sentinel.

The two of you saluted to the senior officer.

“At ease,” Sentinel instructed. “Not only were the two of you the fastest pair on the course, but also the best team. You showed strategy, talent, and speed. You’ve worked hard, take the rest of the day off as a reward; you’ve earned it.”

The two of you walked away, hand in hand, eager for a night together.

“Hey (Y/N), I have an idea,” Wasp grinned.

“Pray tell.”

“How about a night under the stars where we can really appreciate each-others company; I’ve been saving some good energon for such an occasion.”

“You had me at stars.”

“Great, meet me at the observatory, I’ll bring the energon.”

You pecked his lips, “Don’t keep me waiting.”

That was the last time you saw Wasp. While you waited for him in the observatory, he was arrested for being a spy for the Deceptacons. When it happened, you could hardly believe it. You’d known Wasp for Vorns, he couldn’t be a spy. However, with no evidence of his innocence, you had no choice but to believe in the conviction, deciding that Wasp had probably been using you to gather intel. Spark-broken, you fell from the top of the class to the bottom and were soon sent onto the same space-bridge as Bumblebee and Bulkhead. That space bridge was where all the failures were sent. You soon met Prowl, a ninja-bot, Ratchet, an old medical officer, and Optimus Prime; how a prime had fallen so far was beyond you, especially one as serious as him.

Working on the barren station, you had all the time in the universe to forget Wasp and the pain he’d caused you, until one day on the strange planet Earth, when you found something that changed everything.

“YOU DID WHAT?” You screamed at Bumblebee who was hiding behind Optimus for protection.

Bumblebee quivered while Optimus tried desperately to calm the situation.

“(Y/N), Longarm tricked me. I swear it was an accident,” Bumblebee said.

“YOU’RE AN ACCIDENT!”

Optimus held his arms out, “(Y/N) please, Bumblebee didn’t-”

“STAY OUTTA THIS PRIME, I’M GONNA KILL HIM.”

Bumblebee ran, calling behind him, “And finish Wasp’s job for him?”

“YOU GLITCH-HEAD!” You huffed and glared angrily, trying to calm down as you did so. “Fine, I’m going out on patrol; if Wasp’s here, I’m going to find him.”

“(Y/N) wait,” Optimus said but you were already out the door in your alt-mode; an old car Sari called a DeLorean.

Wasp was shocked to be sure. In his revenge addled brain, he’d never imagined you’d ever be near the glitch Bumblebee. He didn’t have time to comprehend the situation as he fled. Bumblebee had taken everything from him, his freedom, his career, and you too; you’d defended Bumblebee, were the two of you an item now? Wasp couldn’t concentrate on that, flee now, dwell later.

Meanwhile, you were in hot pursuit of Wasp. You’d barely got back when you found out what had happened between him and Bumblebee. Swapping paint-jobs was surely the plan of a desperate bot; desperation could be reasoned with.

Eventually, the others stopped the chase, presuming Wasp had been lost once more. You, on the other hand, had tracked him to a cave off the coast where he’d stopped.

“(Y/N),” Optimus radioed you, “Are you coming back to the base?”

“Soon Prime… I just… I need some time,” You lied.

Optimus sighed, “Alright, be careful out there.”

You shut off your communicator, transforming into your bot-mode to enter the cave.

“Wasp,” You called, “It’s me (Y/N). I don’t want to hurt you, I just want to talk.”

“Wasp no talk. Wasp know this is trap,” his voice echoed around the cave.

“It’s not a trap Wasp, Bumblebee told me everything. The two of you were set up, I know you’re innocent.”

There was no reply and you feared you’d lost him once more.

“Sweetspark, please, talk to me.”

“You no love Wasp anymore.”

“Maybe, maybe not. How can you love someone who won’t even talk to you? Come out, show me there’s still the bot I love in there somewhere.”

Once again, there was no answer; Wasp was too busy contemplating your words.

You got on your knees, placing your hands behind your head, “Make me your prisoner, incapacitate me, do whatever you want but please, talk to me.”

“You crazy as always,” Wasp laughed, coming out from behind a Stalagmite and approaching slowly.

“Thank you.”

“Wasp want to know, what you doing with Bumblebot?”

“We work together, as friends.”

“Tell more.”

You recalled your tales since Wasp had been arrested, including those of Earth. Wasp listened enraptured, catching up on everything he’d missed; everything you could have had together. During his imprisonment, he’d thought of little other than vengeance because thinking of you hurt too much. However, with you in front of him, he longed to piece his broken mind back together; so much had fractured since losing you.

As the night dragged on, you knew you’d have to head back soon. It would only be a matter of time before your team wondered where you’d gotten to and started searching for you. You couldn’t let them find Wasp in such a delicate state; you wouldn’t.

You held out a servo apprehensively, Wasp recoiled making you pull back with a sigh. “Wasp, sweetspark, my team will come looking for me soon… that means Bumblebee too. I don’t want them to find you yet until… until you’re better. I love you. Goodbye.”

At your attempt to get up, Wasp grabbed your arm, pulling you back, “(Y/N) no leave. (Y/N) stay with Wasp. Wasp love (Y/N) too.”

Your optics filled with unshed lubricant, “It’s… It’s for your own good. I’ll come back, I promise but you have to let me go now, okay?”

“Wasp and (Y/N) together again?”

“Do you want that?”

“Yes.”

“Then yeah, Wasp and (Y/N) together again.”

[riftensucks]

Don't know if this has been talked about before, but how exactly did Jazbay meet Jenassa, and why on earth would she keep company like him around for as long as she does? I'm to assume it could be because she probably saw him as some kind of malleable piece of clay she could shape into something more suitable for the world or something like that...

I’m very sorry for the alte reply, anon, work has been kind of a doozy these couple days.

Anyway this is such a good quesiton and I am SO glad you asked. It’s an even split between money, glory, and interest. 

Money, because he did pay her to accompany to Bleak Falls Farrow, and mercs gotta merc; past that, even before he learned how to fight, he was still a healer with quick thinking, so clearing bandits/obstacles and getting to keep whatever she wanted from the loot was still a damn good deal. 

Glory, because who wouldn’t want a front seat to the most important event of a century? She got handed a shot at becoming part of a legend on a silver platter. She knew she’d get to meet important persons, kill some of them, fight fights she’d never have a chance to fight otherwise, and be prive to events few people would get to witness. 

And interest, because yeah, when he first approached her she thought precisely nothing of him - just a client for a day, and an ugly street rat to boot. But already in the Barrow she could see he could be focused and brave without a hint of confidence, somehow, and after killing their first dragon, when he couldn’t do fuck-all about the dragon itself but ran around trying to heal the guards under fire, she really wanted to see what he was made of. 

She very quickly saw that the better she got to know him, the more he allowed himself to be bitter or cynical, or that he was constantly morose and tense but had the pain tolerance she herself had to train herself for decades for, or that he seemed entirely resigned to what had to be done with zero regard for himself while caring about total strangers to an almost performatory degree, and yeah, she thought this could go so many different ways. She decided he was equal parts sweet and bitter, and she wanted to see which part would win out when under duress. Did she want to be there the first time he killed someone? She did, and she was.

If he were as weak and naive as she’d first thought, he’d be dime-a-dozen and entirely uninteresting. She was interested in him precisely because he thought for himself, but he kept her guessing as to what he was thinking, exactly, and she had no idea what kind of legend she’d be helping to make.

(She also absolutely enjoyed training him in knife-fighting, or sneaking, or generally in the Bastard Skillset, though trying to teach him to use regular-sized swords was just. Sad.)

So basically, Bleak Falls Barrow was a main story quest for her, and Jazbay was the “find that sign you’ve been waiting in that dumb archery store at for,” and she simply decided to follow him and let chips fall where they may. She was quite ready, in the beginning, to just fold the moment he stopped being interesting, or when she knew for sure what was going to happen. 

All of these became kind of secondary within just a couple months, of course, because she never knew why people cared about their dumb surrogate sons until she got her own dumb surrogate son, she’s only had him for six months but etc., but good luck getting her to admit that when he’s not a) about to possibly die, b) literally getting married right that second.

Thank you very much for your interest, getting this message made my day!

[apexart-journal]

Tasha Dougé, Day 6  aka My BDAY!! Today I turn 40!!

May 26, 2021.  It was the last Super Moon of the year, a Blood Moon, the Flower Moon and a lunar eclipse.  This all happened before 8am EDT.  What a way to start off my 40th birthday.  40 years on the this earth and I have much to be grateful for and I appreciate all my blessings, including this fellowship.  Thank you God, Ancestors, Lwas and the Universe. 

Now for those who have been following or are just joining me on this journey, I want to acknowledge the lapse in posts.  Today is actually day 9 of my fellowship.  For all the bloggers and vloggers out there, I tip my hat to you all in sheer awe.  This is not easy to do consistently.  I knew that, but now I really KNOW.  I mean I am out here in these NYC streets and by the time I get back to the apt, the only thing I want to blog are the number of Zzz’s and snores coming out of me in the bed.  Nonetheless, I committed to sharing my journey and I want to.  So here we go.

It was a late start on the 26th and that was great because the BDay love was pouring in.  Since I can’t celebrate in person, I created a BDAY BINGO game and my friends were game.  The day/afternoon started with a good ole game of mini golf. I haven’t played since 2000.  So I’m coming into this with tons of rust.  PERIODT.  I was told that I would have some company.  Dhairya came to play with his cool shades in tow.  He is a student at NYU studying computer engineering.  My solution to any computer issue is Ctrl + Alt + Delete.  If that doesn’t work, then I can’t help ya.  That is the extent of my expertise.  Now, I will direct all questions to Dhairya.  Dhairya came to the states from India three months ago and it was a pleasure listening and learning about him.  Now, he said he never played mini golf.  However, that is not what the score card said. No need to focus on the numbers.  What’s important is that he didn’t let me win because it was my birthday and that we really enjoyed our time playing.  And if you have to know, yes he did win.  As per my photos (taken by Dhairya), you can see that I had a hard conversation with my ball trying to sort out the lack of communication and teamwork.  After his win, I introduce Dhairya to one of my favorite spots, NISH NUSH.  It is a Mediterranean vegetarian spot that I last visited in Summer of 2019.  It was perfect because he is vegetarian.  He loved the food.  My bday was off to a great spot.  Next off to Sunset Park, Brooklyn.

If you haven’t been to Sunset Park, you need to go immediately.  What a beautiful park.  The view was gorgeous.  I laid out and enjoyed my icee.  One of the pigeons wanted to give me a gift.  It showered me with some excrements.  Apparently, that is supposed to be a sign of good luck.  I will let you know later how true that is.  Until then, I proceeded to use some hand sanitizer to remove the “gift.”  My agenda for the day suggested some snacks.  I decided to try the red bean puff pastry from Jade Bakery (corner of 63rd & 8th) and the rice cake skewers from 369 BBQ (corner of 61st & 8th).  When I got to Jade’s and asked for the red bean pastry, they were exactly sure about what I was asking for.  However, they were super sweet and friendly.  They showed me something red and had beans, so I took it.  Next to 369 BBQ.  I almost missed it because I was looking for a brick and mortar.  Good thing my peripheral vision is still working.  I ordered one skewer to go.  I walked to the train to head over to Greenwood Cemetery for the last event for the day.

While waiting for the train, I cracked open the foil and started eating the rice cake skewer.  Wait for it... Hell the Freak Yes!!!  It was the bomb!  Ever order something and get mad that you only got one?  Well that was what I was feeling.  It was doughy goodness with a kick of spice.  I am SOLD and I will be back for sure.  

I made it to the cemetery with like 2 mins to spare.  There was a line and we waited for them to let us in.  I was the only Black person on the line, but I was going in to see what this was about.  To be honest, I was trying to see if this event could be rescheduled.  I mean a cemetery on my bday?!  I googled it and they only do the event once a month.  So as someone who is all about experiences and willingly accepted the nomination to be a part of this fellowship, I told myself to go for it.  They let us in and off we went.  You find out fairly quickly that the tour is self-guided.  As I enter the cemetery and take it all in, I am filled with questions.  Who came up with this idea?  Was the person buried in the pyramid mausoleum African/Black?  Why do people chose to occupy so much space even in death?  As I witnessed the entertainment, I wondered who is the entertainment for?  Were the deceased considered in those decisions?  As part of the event, folks had the option to enter into certain mausoleums.  For me, that led to more questions.  How were the mausoleums selected?  Did they ask the deceased permission?  At one point, I asked if there were people actually in them and I was told yes.  It is my bday and I don’t know the energy of the people deceased.  Thanks, but I will pass on that one.  

Oh yea. How could I almost forget?  Literally about 5 minutes after I entered the cemetery with the group, the grey clouds with all their rolling thunder came right on through.  Strong winds followed by stronger gusts of winds had the trees howling and the branches swaying frantically.  Shortly after, the rain came.  Pellets of water were hurled onto our bodies and my body for sure since I didn’t have an umbrella.  For me, that was the good Lord and ancestors saying you came, you saw and now you gotta go.  With that message, I got another message.  This time it was for the event folks saying that the event was canceled due to the rain.  My sister called with some happy birthday vibes and asked where I was.  I told her I was in a cemetery and she was like “on your birthday?”  I told her yea.  I was not surprised by her shock, but I flipped it for her real good.  Yes, it was my 40th birthday, but what would be a better reminder to live then to be among those who have passed. 

I choose to live with every breath I have until my very last.  This was a bomb birthday!!

Sidebar:  I will return to Greenwood because Basquiat is buried there and there is also an African burial ground called the Freedom Lots.

[olko71]

New Post has been published on All about business online

New Post has been published on http://yaroreviews.info/2021/02/biden-to-address-chip-shortages-with-executive-action

Biden to Address Chip Shortages With Executive Action

WASHINGTON— President Biden will sign an executive order Wednesday directing a broad review of supply chains for critical materials—from semiconductors to pharmaceuticals and rare-earth minerals—with the aim of spurring domestic production while strengthening ties with allies.

A chip shortage is squeezing auto makers in the U.S. and world-wide, and Biden administration officials have been working with industry to free up supplies. Cars use chips for numerous systems, including engine management, automatic braking and assisted driving.

The executive order calls for a 100-day review of supply chains for four areas: semiconductors, used in products from cars to phones, large-capacity batteries used in electric vehicles, pharmaceuticals and rare-earth elements that are key to technology and defense. For example, neodymium is needed for the solid-state lasers used to designate missile targets.

Bags of rare-earth concentrates at a California mine. China dominates the market for rare-earth elements.

Photo: Joe Buglewicz/Bloomberg News

Mr. Biden’s order will also call for a separate, one-year review of supply chains covering six broader sectors, from technology to food production, said Peter Harrell, senior director at the National Security Council for international economics and competitiveness.

The executive order wouldn’t fix the near-term chip shortage, White House officials acknowledged, but the hope is to produce a longer-term plan to help the federal government prevent future supply-chain problems.

In a letter to Mr. Biden Wednesday, Sens. Marco Rubio (R., Fla.) and Chris Coons (D., Del.) praised the 100-day supply-chain review. They said Mr. Biden should also take faster action to address the chip shortage, recommending he invoke the Defense Production Act to “incentivize or, if necessary, require American companies to retain their domestic capacities during this time.”

Matt Blunt, president of the American Automotive Policy Council, said the administration is showing leadership on the problem but the industry needs faster results. “We definitely would encourage continued focus on what can be done to encourage suppliers to meet all of the automotive orders, which right now is not being done,” he said.

Administration officials said the government intends to encourage domestic production with incentives such as job-training programs and business loans, in addition to using the federal procurement process for more American-made purchases. The administration will also explore limiting some imports, officials said. But no specifics were offered Wednesday.

The officials said the administration could use the Defense Production Act, which Mr. Biden is using for vaccine production and securing more Covid-19 equipment, to spur more domestic manufacturing of critical products. The government is expected to also look to public-private partnerships while aiming to shore up relations with allies to address common supply vulnerabilities, such as semiconductors, they said.

“This problem was decades in the making. We can solve it by making smart investments that are long term in nature, that reach families and workers in all of America,” said Sameera Fazili, deputy director of the National Economic Council.

While White House officials said the executive action isn’t aimed at one particular country, it comes as U.S. interest rises in combating China and fostering ties with other supplier countries. China dominates the rare-earths market and is a major player in other supply areas, including pharmaceuticals.

A handful of suppliers from Europe, Japan and the U.S. dominate the global auto-chip market, while China largely relies on imports. Shortages in the auto industry, one of the largest consumers of computer chips, were first noticed in China.

Newsletter Sign-up

Capital Journal

Scoops, analysis and insights driving Washington from the WSJ’s D.C. bureau.

The current global chip shortage is driven by the pandemic and increased demand for products used while people work at home. The shortage has hampered auto production around the world. Ford Motor Co. recently said that it would cut production of the F-150 pickup truck—one of its most profitable and popular models—because of the chip shortage. General Motors Co. has extended shutdowns at some North American plants into March.

The White House has asked U.S. embassies to identify ways foreign countries and companies could help address the chip shortage, and it has held meetings with auto companies and suppliers to urge them to look for steps they could take in the short-term to alleviate the crunch. Among those involved in the push are Jake Sullivan, the national security adviser, and Brian Deese, Mr. Biden’s top economic adviser.

In a statement Wednesday, Ford said it appreciated Mr. Biden’s efforts to resolve the short-term crunch and to review longer-term ways to improve supply chains. “It is incredibly important for our labor force, our customers and our business that we have a commitment to end this shortage as soon as possible,” the company said.

The Semiconductor Industry Association also welcomed the efforts while urging the president and Congress to invest more in domestic chip manufacturing and research. “Doing so will ensure more of the chips our country needs are produced on U.S. shores, while also promoting sustained U.S. leadership in the technology at the heart of America’s economic strength and job creation, national security, and critical infrastructure,” the group said.

Last week, a group of associations representing technology companies, the automotive industry and other business interests sent a letter to Mr. Biden calling for action to improve supply chains, including promoting the construction of semiconductor-manufacturing facilities and investing in research.

“We believe the need is urgent and now is the time to act,” the letter said.

Before signing the executive order Wednesday, Mr. Biden is scheduled to meet with a bipartisan group of House and Senate lawmakers to discuss supply-chain issues that have grown more visible during the pandemic.

Mr. Biden will link the executive order to his overall plans to create U.S. jobs, particularly in manufacturing that has lost ground to foreign competition, such as China. The administration believes spurring new manufacturing would create jobs in communities of color, officials said. The White House views it as an issue that will allow Republicans and Democrats to work together to create jobs in the U.S.

Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D., N.Y.) said Tuesday that work had begun on a bipartisan package to address competition with China, including new investments in domestic semiconductor manufacturing.

“Right now, semiconductor manufacturing is a dangerous weak spot in our economy and in our national security. That has to change,” Mr. Schumer said, citing the auto industry. “We cannot rely on foreign processors for the chips. We cannot let China get ahead of us into production.”

The tech battle between the U.S. and China has battered TikTok and Huawei and startled American companies that produce and sell in China. WSJ explains how Beijing is pouring money into high-tech chips as it wants to become self-sufficient. Video/Illustration: George Downs/The Wall Street Journal

Write to Alex Leary at alex.leary@wsj.com

Copyright ©2020 Dow Jones & Company, Inc. All Rights Reserved. 87990cbe856818d5eddac44c7b1cdeb8