#holy Shit this was tough to translate from my brain
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everybody stay with me im shifting back into speculation & analyzing mode, this time about everybody's favorite pair of besties. ill put this under the cut for everyone's sakes
and please, take all of this with a Hefty grain of salt.
so ive been... thinking about a thing. a maybe-possibility. which if this has some merit, the part of me that loves characters having a good time and feeling good feels is screaming in fear. but the louder part of me that loves angst and hurting characters is rubbing its little fly hands together.
short version: i think Barnaby is going to emotionally distance from Wally, if not outright grow to resent him. maybe temporarily, maybe not.
full version: *cracks knuckles* strap in folks. so.
first of all, an entire chunk of Barnaby's bio is dedicated to his character relation to Wally. everyone else only has one-off lines dedicated to their relationships to other neighbors - even Frank & Julie just have single sentences about each other (note that they're described as "partnered with" and "depicted with" respectively. more on that soon). even Wally's bio has his Barnaby mention tacked onto the end of his first paragraph instead of being its own dedicated section
and then there's their character designs - their bios explicitly point out that they share characteristics; color schemes, hearts on their soles, similar outfits.
they were made to be best friends. literally. this quote is what made me start turning this theory over in my mind (sourced from @ /theneighborhoodwatch's collected & absolutely fascinating livestream trivia)
it appears that Barnaby literally did not have a say in whether or not he and Wally are friends. their bios even say "illustrated pages note that they were best friends multiple times." they have to be best friends.
which brings us back to Frank & Julie. they briefly reference each other in their bios, but they aren't described as best friends. it's incredibly likely that they were meant to be a romantic couple - i briefly covered that theory in this post (dont read the first one i was going insane) but they managed to avoid that. Frank and Julie defied the script and chose to be best friends instead.
and then in the trivia document a few more character relationships are briefly touched on, like how Howdy considers Barnaby a close friend, and Sally considers either Barnaby or Poppy as her closest friend, etc.
everyone else seems to be choosing who they're close with. they're forming their own opinions and dynamics and relationships. & its interesting that Barnaby is stated for both of these - as if implying that he may return the friendship feelings, or at the very least he's developed enough of a relationship with them to earn their affection
Barnaby and Wally... i doubt they ever got that. they were best friends from the start, no development, no choice. it's written into them.
and then there's how their relationship has been portrayed so far. i believe i saw an ask where Clown stated that Barnaby is very polite to Wally, which struck me as odd. have you ever had a polite relationship to your best friend? have you ever seen best friends be polite? i'd be surprised!
best friends mess with each other! they tease and rib and roast! what is a best friend for if not mutual tomfuckery?! jesting around? playfully pushing boundaries? a Polite best friendship... that's a straight up oxymoron. no such thing. that sounds boring and exhausting.
not only that, but the fact that Barnaby is often used for Wally's painting segments, and is the go-to guy for teaching Wally something new, is kind of concerning. it gives me the vibe that a big part of Barnaby's literal reason for existing is to be Wally's friend & guide.
which would make the fact of him being described as polite to Wally make sense. of course he's not going to push their relationship or try to deepen it - he's forming his own dynamics with the other neighbors. with Wally... it's already established. that is how they are with each other. that is what they are to each other.
and it's not like Wally can be the one to introduce nuances. i don't mean that as a slight or anything - he's just the way he's been described and the things stated about him that make me think that he wouldn't really... know how to? it just wouldn't occur to him. he probably thinks his and Barnaby's relationship is what a best friendship is and is how it should be.
but they have to hang out. they have to refer to each other as best friends. and while i believe that Wally does wholeheartedly think that they're best friends, close as can be... i doubt Barnaby feels the same. like - yes, he probably does care about Wally. everybody likes Wally.
but it's gotta be frustrating for Barnaby, especially as time goes on and he becomes more himself as a person over just being a character playing a part. it probably stunts his relationship growth with others, since his ~best friend spot~ is already taken and who would want to encroach on that? especially since its taken by Wally mcfuckin Darling?
their friendship might become less of a role and more of a responsibility. Barnaby might grow to feel obligated to stick with Wally as his "best friend". someone invites Barnaby to hang out and/or help with something? sorry, he has to pose for Wally's painting. Barnaby is trying to do his own thing? sorry, Wally is knocking on the door and asking for help with something.
i wonder if Barnaby ever hopes that Wally will go to someone else, or feels relief when he does. and then does he feel irritation/guilt over that denied hope or that granted relief? then does he get angry at himself for those emotions?
how would this effect how he treats Wally and acts around him? this confusing muddle of emotions and this strange growing resentment for his painfully earnest friend who only ever means well, if he means at all.
it makes me curious whether or not this theory has merit. and how this could come to a head. what would Barnaby, in this situation, do if/when he discovers that they're puppets on a set, and he's literally written to be Wally's bestie while everyone else changed their scripts and chose their own relationships.
personally, i don't think he'd be happy, and i doubt he'd handle it well.
#holy Shit this was tough to translate from my brain#i literally wrote it all out in my head while in the shower#and then i went to get it down on 'paper' and it was Tangled To Hell And Back#*taking a break from art*#brain: soooooo we're bored now. lets overthink and share these thinkings#welcome home theory#welcome home speculation#SERIOUSLY THOUGH IM SCARED FOR BARNABY AND WALLY#mainly for wally bc Ouch it would hurt him to have their relationship sour#barnaby getting resentful and wally not understanding why his best friend is acting differently towards him#and PLEASE keep in mind that im mostly talking outta my ass here#but like.... ugh#barnaby looking at wally walking over one day and feeling the urge to turn away or groan in irritation/exasperation#him posing for a painting and wishing he were anywhere else.#him wanting to be closer with other puppets but unable to bring himself to try bc of the Guilt#everywhere he turns hes called 'wallys best friend' and asked 'wheres wally? hes usually with you' when hes alone#and hearing 'if you want to find wally/barnaby go look for barnaby/wally. if you see one the other isnt far away'#that has GOT to get on his nerves over time#this constant stagnation of their relationship while everyone else is evolving and growing. hes Stuck.#even julie & frank who were written to be together find a way to circumvent that and add so much depth and uniqueness to their relationship#if you want a happy side of this. it could lead to barnaby & wally being really truly besties#barnaby could have an arc about thinking 'holy shit it was all fabricated. Fuck that and Fuck you[wally]'#and then going 'holy shit i Do actually love and care about him[wally] and i want us to develop a real meaningful friendship'#BUT WHO KNOWS who knows not me!#also it must be tiring to constantly have to explain his jokes and so many other things#bc wally Is a curious guy! he wants to learn!#but maybe barnaby just wants to have an uninterrupted conversation but he Cant bc wallys just built different#not said as a bad thing At All.#just... people are complicated. sometimes we have mean thoughts/emotions that conflict with what we really think/feel and our morals#we're only human. everyone is mean sometimes if only in our heads.& yeah theyre technically Puppets but lets not get caught up on semantics
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BnHA Chapter 320: Deku vs. Class 1-A
Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Kacchan was all “fuck Deku and fuck his stupid goodbye letters, I need to speak to somebody in charge.” Endeavor was all “hello, I am Somebody In Charge.” Kacchan was all “listen up asshole, you need to let us go out and collect our wayward nerd because you stupidly left him alone with All Might and that’s a fast track to disaster right there.” Endeavor was all, “[self-incriminating silence].” Rat Principal was all, “okay sure, have fun kids.” Back in the present, class 1-A was all “hi Deku” and Deku was all “I’M FINE!!!!!” and Kacchan was all “THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT YOU’D SAY YOU DUMB FUCKING NERD” and so the kids all got ready to fight, because OF COURSE they’re gonna fight. Sorry guys, but yeah it’s happening.
Today on BnHA: Kacchan is all “what’s up Deku you look like a possessed Rorschach test, so anyway how are the new quirks coming along.” Deku is all “they’re coming along like THIS” and uses Smokescreen to try and get away. Kacchan is all “PHASE ONE COMMENCE”, and Kouda, Sero, Jirou, and Ojiro leap into the fray to shower Deku with heaps of love and violence, because this is a shounen manga and kicking someone’s ass while simultaneously proclaiming your undying admiration for them is just how it’s done in these parts. The KoudaSeroOJirou squad then passes the baton to Satou, Momo, Tokoyami, Kaminari, and Shouji, who are all “fuck this mask” and do a bunch of stuff to tear Deku’s mask off because they’re the real heroes. Shouto is all “LOOK AT THE LITTLE CRYBABY, THAT’S RIGHT, GO AHEAD AND FUCKING CRY and by the way let us share your burden please,” and once again I swear this is all very deeply moving and touching within the actual context. The chapter ends with Tsuyu being all “look at me. I’m the cliffhanger now,” and damn.
lol what
I don’t think anyone was expecting that. I mean, not that I’ve got anything against Tsuyu or anything. anyways it’s a very nice cover and I love the colors and I hope this means Tsuyu’s gonna do something badass
also, “Deku vs Class A” -- pretty much the expected title, but it’s still got me hyped nonetheless fuck yeah let’s go
IIDA ANGST
Iida Tenya really said “fuck the uniform code, we’re leaving the helmet at home today.” sorry kids, prim and proper C-3PO Comic Relief Iida has left the building. can I interest you in some Serious Iida
meanwhile Kacchan is all “sup Deku, I heard you got a few more quirks, and might I just add that you look like the Snyder Cut of Detective Pikachu”
“you look like a tarred and feathered squid” okay easy there Kacchan. I mean it’s all true of course, but still
“thank you all for coming” OH EXCUSE ME SON, WERE YOU PLANNING ON GOING SOMEWHERE. LET’S JUST SEE HOW THAT PLAYS OUT
yep and there’s Smokescreen, right on cue
okay Horikoshi, I leave it in your hands. hopefully you can come up with some more interesting combos than my dumbass predictions lol
LOL THIS ISN’T A COMBO AT ALL
“explosions solve everything” -- Horikoshi Kouhei, 2021. something something shockwave, something something handwave ta-da no more smoke. lol okay then
oh, ouch
he would know, wouldn’t he. nice application of one of your many hard-earned life lessons, Kacchan
by the way you guys, just as an experiment, I’m going to try to anticipate some of the discourse this week in the hopes of preemptively addressing it and thus saving myself some time later on lol. so here’s our first test run!
ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “oh my god what a fucking hypocrite can you believe this fucking guy”
PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: it’s precisely because Kacchan has been in this exact situation himself that he’s able to recognize his past self in Deku now and call him out on it. just because it took him sixteen years to get it through his head that he can’t accomplish every single thing completely by himself doesn’t mean Deku has to go down that same path. so yeah, maybe it is a bit hypocritical, but if you insist that the only people qualified to call out stupid shit are people who have never done a single stupid thing in their own lives, then what you’re basically saying is that absolutely no one on earth is qualified lol. so yeah, I’d have to disagree
and one last unrelated note, I’m willing to bet the whole “you didn’t even say a word before you ran off” thing is possibly the first thing Kacchan’s said in this whole encounter that actually does stem from genuine hurt rather than his tough-love-harsh-truths strategy. I’M TAKING NOTES HERE HORIKOSHI. at this rate it’ll take twice as many chapters as DvK2 for them to hash out all the stuff between them, geez
anyway so I gotta say, so far Deku vs. Class A is looking an awful lot like a DvK3 wearing a hat, trenchcoat, and sunglasses lol
OH SHIT I TAKE IT BACK??
FUCK YEAH, YOU GO KOUDA. and I guess he ditched his mask as well! excellent
so far the strategy here seems to be “Kacchan says all the mean tough love shit while the rest of 1-A balances it out with warmth and kindness”, which actually works pretty well imo. Deku is one of those people that doesn’t usually need a Kacchan Translator anyway, but just in case, this is very efficient
mm but of course Deku is slingshotting himself away with Blackwhip. all right then, who’s up next!
FUCK YEAH
okay but seriously you guys, what is going on with Sero’s face in these last couple of chapters though, it’s really starting to unnerve me. is he trying to emulate Kacchan’s whole asymmetrical facial expressions thing?
in fact let me just quickly hit pause here because,
ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “SERO IS TOGA??!”
PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: no
oh snap looks like Jirou’s getting in on the action too!
poor Jirou probably spent days racking her brain trying to think of something she could bond with Deku over. is Horikoshi doing these in reverse order of the kids who have had the most interaction with him? that would explain why poor Kouda didn’t get a flashback lol
omg. well that answers that
so by my count, Satou and Hagakure are the only ones remaining in this first tier of kids who Still Appreciate Midoriya even though they’ve barely ever spoken two words to him in their lives lol. so they’ll probably be next, and then we’ll get to the next tier of kids who are pretty good friends with him but not quite besties. and then we’ll move on to the IidaRokiRaka trio, and then lastly, to the boy who is in a tier all his own
BUT FIRST, A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR
and by “sponsor” I mean the Dekuangst. just in case that wasn’t clear. indeed, many thanks to the Dekuangst for making this all possible
(ETA: okay so this whole “take me away” line seemed pretty weird to me, and sure enough it’s yet another one of those cases where only the verb is specified, and the object is left to the reader’s interpretation. so even though the translation says “take me away”, I’m pretty sure that what Deku’s actually saying is “take you away” -- as in, his loved ones will be taken away by AFO.
and that is literally the way he phrases it, though -- the verb used is “奪う” (ubau), meaning “to snatch away; to dispossess; to steal.” which, god, that hurts my whole goddamn heart though, because for him to say it like that?? not “AFO will kill you”, but “AFO will take you away from me.” he can’t have nice things anymore because of AFO. he can’t be around the people he loves because AFO will hurt them. he can’t have happiness because AFO will take it away from him. anyway so where the fuck is AFO right now, motherfucker I just want to talk.)
by the way can Ojiro just extend his tail to whatever fucking length he wants or what because it’s like twelve feet long in this panel lol
WOOO FUCK YEAH TOKOYAMI
YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!! BUT WHERE’S YOUR FLASHBACK? YOU’VE HAD A BUNCH OF INTERACTIONS WITH HIM, THAT’S NOT FAIR
okay so now Satou’s stepping in which is back to my anticipated order, so maybe Toko will finish his little moment afterward
dskfjfkk
“REMEMBER THAT TIME DEKU BORROWED SATOU’S FOOD COLORING” Horikoshi says, sweating. “AND REMEMBER THAT TIME HE, UM, SMILED IN HAGAKURE’S GENERAL DIRECTION”
actually I am curious about what Hagakure’s part will be because, you know, the whole traitor thing lol
(ETA: funny how we just skipped right over it huh. can we get a traitor reveal countdown started here? definitely getting close to that time.)
whoa lol wtf
MOMO??? THIS HAS MOMO WRITTEN ALL OVER IT DAMMIT
-- SWEET MOTHER OF FUCK
“SORRY MIDORIYA-SAN, I LEFT MY FUCKING CHILL AT HOME IN THE LOCKER NEXT TO IIDA’S HELMET” holy shit lmao
and here I thought she’d get a flashback to her time on the Baku Rescue Squad or something. but nope, no flashbacks from Momo, only terrifying sci-fi torture devices
poor Dark Shadow is such a trooper omg
“why am I the only one who has to make prolonged contact with his smelly disgusting self” taking one for the team there DS
FUCK YEAH KAMINARI NO JUTSU
THE PRICKLY BASTARD WHISPERER STRIKES AGAIN!! don’t suppose you brought any clean clothes you could sneakily force him into huh Kami
okay here we go, so now Shouji and Tokoyami are joining forces
um excuse me this is fucking awesome
wonder how he’ll break free? don’t think he’ll reveal Fa Jin until the end of the chapter, so maybe Air Force or something? idk
TOKO GETS AN EXTENDED MOMENT BECAUSE HE IS A TIER TWO PATREON REWARD LEVEL FRIEND YAY
WHY IS MOMO MAKING THIS FACE LOL YOUR THING WAS WAY WORSE
and Shouji just casually hitting him with what is easily the best comment from anyone yet. too bad Deku’s just gonna ignore it. you deserve better Shouji
KAMINARI OMFG
it only just occurred to me that Kami is currently trapped inside Dark Shadow right along with him lmao omg. realest one in the entirety of BnHA, right here. we will never forget your sacrifice
aaaaaaand Deku’s yeeting himself
do you really hate the thought of taking a bath that much my dude
oh shit the mask!!
-- oh shit the feels
o(TヘTo)
fuck. and I mean, we knew he was crying, that was a done deal. but still, to see him in this much pain is just...
and the acknowledgement that he knows they’re worried about him, but that it doesn’t change his mind one bit. this, right here, is why they have to be a bit harsh with him, you guys. because they’re up against the full, unbridled stubbornness of Midoriya fucking Izuku, and if they don’t match that stubbornness with an equal stubbornness of their own, they basically don’t stand a chance
(ETA: quick note that there is apparently another mistranslation here -- rather than saying that his friends are oblivious to the danger, what Deku is actually saying is that none of his friends have activated his Danger Sense once throughout this entire fight. which I had been wondering about, and it turns out Horikoshi actually confirmed it. so basically none of the kids bears any ill intent toward him, and there’s literal proof right there.
incidentally, as @class1akids pointed out, this also casts an interesting light on this chapter in terms of who hasn’t fought Deku yet. not to play the Hagakure Traitor Music for the billionth time you guys, but I’M JUST SAYING lol.)
anyway, but the good news is that they all seem to understand that. and the even better news is that we have reached the tier 3 friends!!
“OR ELSE” lol, great to see Shouto wielding his friendship just as aggressively as Deku once did towards him. I do love a good role reversal
p.s., ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “why is Shouto being so cruel to Deku can’t he see how hard this is on him”
PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: this is a callback to the classic “even heroes cry when they have to” Shouto line from chapter 137. Shouto is clearly following Kacchan’s lead here and going for the more ruthless approach, knowing that the gentle approach isn’t getting through to him (if anything it’s only making him more stubborn as we saw on the previous page). basically it’s his way of pointing out that even heroes are still only human, and so is Deku last time he checked
ah okay, and there Tsuyu is at last
okay real talk, I get why Tsuyu is included in the tier 3 friends, because she was one of the first people to team up with Deku going all the way back to USJ. but that said, this probably would have had more impact if their most recent interaction hadn’t been like 150 chapters ago
but anyway though it’s still a good speech. maybe not quite a cliffhanger-level speech, but a good speech nonetheless. in a way though, I’m glad to see that Horikoshi seemingly didn’t give a fuck whether he ended this on an actual cliffhanger or not for once
and that “headed toward the climax” part has me excited too, ngl. because if we really are getting to the so-called climax this soon, that makes me even more certain that there is indeed a DvK3 in the forecast. so I presume that next week (or I guess two weeks from now) will be the tier 3s along with the remaining tier 2s like Kirishima and Aoyama
and then after that, well... [orange and green banners being hoisted] [sound of screeching airhorns and vuvuzelas in the distance] [sound of All Might approaching in his car which I didn’t notice until I looked back at this page a second time whoops] THE PROPHECY WILL NOT BE DENIED
#bnha 320#midoriya izuku#bakugou katsuki#asui tsuyu#tokoyami fumikage#kaminari denki#todoroki shouto#class 1-a#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha
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the last calm before the storm. i have so much in store for these two >:)
word count: 1130
[Riconti] Good at pretending (part 3)
[previous] [next]
Dread pooled heavy in Felix’s gut as the trees around the road cleared and they pulled up to the estate’s driveway.
There were already several cars present and even a goddamn limousine, despite the wedding being six full days ahead. It seemed Felix’s aunt had rented the thing for the entire week – or maybe even bought it for her daughter as a wedding gift.
A low whistle came from the passenger seat. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about the size of this thing.” Ace was leaned over the dashboard and staring out over the estate grounds in awe.
Felix spared a cursory glance around as he parked. The manor’s garden was even bigger than the obscenely big driveway next to it, and it was in pristine shape – no doubt to be used for wedding photos later in the week. Behind the garden was a greenhouse, and further away he could see the enclosure for the tennis court.
And of course, the extravagant mansion stretched beside the attractions, looming over them in all its excessive glory.
“You didn’t tell me we’d be spending time with royalty,” Ace joked. “Damn, is that a hedge maze?”
“Now that you mention it, I think my uncle’s wife has some distant royal lineage,” Felix said. “But mostly everyone just has far more money than they know what to do with.”
“Fuck, I can tell."
Ace sounded genuinely in awe and uncertainty twisted in Felix’s chest as an unexpected problem made itself known. What if Ace ended up enjoying himself too much, and Felix was left alone to wallow in his own bitterness while Ace preferred to mingle with his filthy rich relatives?
“Any last minute advice before we head into the lion’s den?” Ace asked.
Felix looked up to meet Ace’s encouraging smile and realized that he’d stayed frozen in his seat despite the car now being parked.
“Uhm…” Felix racked his brain for anything worthwhile, trying not to let his insecurity shine through. “My oldest uncle – Bernard, you read the profiles I sent you – has no concept of tact and will ask invasive questions about people’s bowel movements at the dinner table. The bride, Vanessa, has never been told ‘no’ a single time in her life and if she asks you to do a silly dance for her social media post you’re expected to comply, no questions asked.”
Ace merely shrugged. “Good thing I’m a great dancer. Anything else?”
“Most of the guests will probably be speaking German,” Felix explained. “Everyone knows English – some better than others – but I can always translate for you. Though to be honest, you’re probably better off not understanding most of the conversation.”
“I’ll leave it up to your discretion,” Ace said with a smirk. “Should I, uh, be prepared for certain comments?”
Felix frowned. “Comments?”
“You know… being a guy and all?” Ace raised an eyebrow in question, his easy smile faltering just the tiniest amount.
“Oh!” Felix exclaimed. “No, no, nothing like that. Or, well… there will be whispers and Bernard might put his foot in his mouth again, but they, ähm. They know. About me.”
Ace’s curious gaze stayed on Felix and Felix wanted to melt into the car seat from embarrassment. Rather than push the subject, however, Ace merely nodded.
“Okay, good!”
“What about you?” Felix asked. “Will you… does it bother you?”
Ace looked at him funny and then laughed.
“Okay, whoever gave you the idea that I’m straight deserves a raise because that’s some tough shit they’re selling,” Ace chuckled.
Felix felt his brain screaming no no no while his heart pounded with an enthusiastic hell yes!
“But for the record, no, it doesn’t bother me,” Ace said. “I swing both ways and given the situation, I kind of figured you swung at least a little bit this way.”
Ace reached for the door, clearly expecting that to be the end of the conversation, but Felix suddenly needed him to know.
“I do – a lot,” Felix blurted out. Ace paused, waiting for him to continue. “I mean… both. I do both. W-well, at the moment I’m not ‘doing’ anyone, but… guh.”
Felix groaned and barely resisted the urge to slap himself. He should have just dropped it; now he was stuck making a fool of himself before they’d even stepped out of the car.
“And that’s where your fake boyfriend comes into the picture!” Ace slapped his hands together with a grin, blissfully letting Felix’s awkwardness slide. “Now are you ready to get this show on the road?”
Felix managed one last steadying breath before reaching for the door handle. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He climbed out of the car and it was a relief to finally be able to stretch his legs after the long ride. At the sound of a groan, Felix looked over the hood at the car – only to nearly swallow his tongue at the sight that greeted him.
Ace seemed to have had the same idea about stretching, at least based on the way he raised his arms high above his head with a downright indecent sound. His dress shirt and vest hugged him perfectly – Felix had paid good money to have the whole week’s wardrobe tailored for Ace on such short notice – and the clothing only highlighted his broad shoulders and the cinch of his waist.
A clearing of a throat snapped Felix out of his stupor, and he suddenly noticed his aunt’s thoroughly unamused butler standing nearby and watching their display.
“Welcome, Sir Richter,” the man spoke in German. “Can I get someone to fetch your bags?”
Felix glanced at the overflowing suit bags in the back of the car. “Thank you, that would be lovely.”
“Very well. Feel free to make your way inside, the madam is already awaiting you.” The butler held out his gloved hand for Felix to deposit his car keys in.
With the bag situation taken care of, Felix turned around planning to inform Ace, but it seemed Ace was one step ahead of him. He was already right next to Felix, standing just that much straighter and giving the butler an acknowledging nod to which the man responded with a polite bow of his head.
“Are we ready to go?” Ace asked. He’d smoothly slipped into the act, knowing to avoid introductions and waiting for Felix’s approval to proceed.
Felix couldn't help but be impressed. “Of course." He made an effort to stand a little bit taller, himself; it was easy to put on his play-act to mirror Ace’s. “I heard our host is already waiting for us.”
And then Ace took his arm and sidled up to Felix like he belonged there, looking up at him with a teasing smile. “Then lead the way, darling.”
And Felix knew was in deep, deep shit.
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Addicted to You
Part II: All Along the Watch Tower
Summary/Reader’s Notes: In this part the boys head to Columbia to do some reconnaissance. They all find out why they are really there and as expected...Frankie does not handle it well. There will obviously be more ‘reader’ centric parts as time goes on. I thrive for your thoughts and comments. **Shout out to @rae-gar-targaryen for being an amazing person and helping me with translations. The italics are either Spanish, with the translations in ( ) or they are the boys talking over the coms as a reminder that they are spread out and not near one another--let me know if that reads okay or if there is a better way to do the Spanish/English in the paragraphs.
Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Pope’s sister!Reader
Word Count: 5k (this is a theme...)
Warnings/rating: R/18+ Language, derogatory language, STRONG kidnapping elements, blood, violence, execution/death, general Frankie DISTRESS. Angst, Bro Hugs, Man tears, TOM. (I am in pain after this. Please give me your feelings)
Part I
MASTERLIST
Seventeen thousand dollars for one week of reconnaissance wasn't anything to shake a stick at. And Frankie was almost ashamed to say when Pope told them that was the initial pay out, they all jumped on it without knowing many details. Times were tough. Tom was going through a divorce, paying two mortgages, and scraping by as a piss-poor real estate agent. And in the words of Pope, the real crime was that he had been shot for his country five times and couldn't afford to send his daughters to college. Will was still giving pep talks, to kids barely old enough to drink, through the recruiting agency and traveled so much settling down and having a family wasn't an option. Benny was street brawling in a cage every Friday night for what he could make playing penny slots up at the casino. And Frankie--well, Frankie drifted from one job to the next, never having a job long enough to get basic health insurance and pay for anything that would help the nightmares he had every night. So, maybe it wasn't all that sad when the four of them jumped at the idea of making five figures for a week of work.
They had each packed a bag and flown over the borde into Columbia where they spent the first day letting Pope show them around and talk about the terror that narcos like Lorea was unleashing on the country. He laid it on pretty thick when honestly, he didn't need to. They were already there. No backing out now.
Somewhere on the outskirts of the city Pope had a storage unit that was basically full of everything they would ever need for recon work. They loaded up on assault rifles and ammunition, radio communication tools, med kits, binoculars and scopes, hell, he even had fucking night vision goggles for each of them. Pope tossed Frankie a bulletproof vest and he strapped it on, still looking at the impressive wall to wall unit of tactical gear. He knew he had been after Lorea for three years, but this was excessive, especially if it had all been paid for by the Columbian government.
As far as the four of them knew, this mission was off the grid. Pope had cut a deal with local authorities and had intel that Lorea had about seventy-five million dollars of drug money holed up in the middle of the fucking jungle. If they decided to take the job after the recon, well, they got to keep twenty five percent of it. Frankie couldn't even begin to think what he would do with that kind of money. But he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something Pope wasn't telling them. He spent the majority of the first leg of the trip waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop.
“Holy shit,” Will whistled as Pope showed them the storage unit. “Where did you get all of this, man?”
“I told you,” Pope said, tossing a vest at the blond. “I’ve been after this guy for three years. The Columbian government is extremely motivated--if I say I need it, it shows up within a week or two.”
Benny picked up one of the assault rifles and flipped it over in his hand, examining the mag chamber and nodding. “Must be nice.”
“Listen,” Pope stopped digging through the supplies and looked at them. “I need to know you guys are sure about this. Lorea isn’t in some hole in the jungle--it’s a mansion. We’re talking guards, barbed wire fencing, security cameras. That’s why the reccie is so important.”
“We get it, man,” Tom said holding out his hand. “It’s serious shit. Now give me my com.” Tom held out his hand and Pope put a radio and earpiece in his palm. And that was that. They were all in.
The next day the five of them were in the thick of it. Frankie moved slowly through the trees, big, lush green leaves slid along his arms and torso as he stepped carefully through the mud and sticks. His steel-toed boots were quiet enough for this terrain but he kept his eyes peeled for any trip wires or trigger cameras.
Will walked alongside him, mirroring his footsteps with about ten feet between them as they swept a path towards the chain link fence that surrounded the perimeter. Pope and Tom had set up a vantage point on the hill, using binoculars to walk them through the path and tell them what they were up against.
It was humid as fuck and his shirt clung to his back and he felt a bead of sweat start to drip down from the brim of his hat. As he smacked a mosquito off of his arm he remembered there was a reason he had moved back to Texas.
“What are we lookin’ at, Cat?” Tom said over the radio and his voice came clearly into Frankie’s ear.
“I got two guards by the south end.” He clicked the button on his headset and kept moving.
“Looks like I got one by the gate,” Will confirmed. “How reliable is this informant, Pope?”
“She’s good for her intel.” Pope answered simply.
Pope’s informant was a local, who apparently had been feeding him information off the grid for a ticket out of the country and a small cut of the money they recovered. Apparently she drove a van onto the base like clockwork to deliver loads of Lorea’s cash. Some of the guys, mainly Tom, figured the intel was bullshit and Pope was too trusting because he had most likely been balls-deep in this broad. But if Pope trusted her, then so did Frankie.
“Yeah, that means she’s smokin’ hot.” Benny said, from his spot on the north side of the Mansion. “Blonde or Brunette? I’m trying to paint a picture here while I sweat my ass off in these fuckin’ trees.”
“Fuck off,” Pope said flatly.
“Keep the radios clear, assholes,” Tom said with annoyance in his voice. “Focus.”
Frankie walked a few more feet, making sure he stayed in the cover of the foliage as he peered through the links. And clear as day he saw their first issue. A young girl, probably about ten years old, ran past one of the guards chasing after a soccer ball, before a young boy stole it from her and they ran back into the house.
“Shit.” He cursed. “Pope, we got kids here. Does he have kids living here with him? Because if he does that complicates things and that is not what I signed up for.”
“The family’s not the problem,” Pope’s voice came through his ear. “They’re the answer.”
“Why?” Frankie felt the anger in his voice but he couldn’t stop it. He did not sign up to hurt kids. Drug lords? Sure. Their guards? Absolutely. If it shot at him then he would shoot back--but kids did not fit that criteria.
“Church.” Pope said like that answered everything and the rest of them waited in silence for him to continue. “Lorea is very devout. Every Sunday morning he sends three guards to the six AM service. When they get back, he sends the rest of the team with his family down to mass. That leaves him and three guards in that house. That’s our way in.”
“Why would he do that?” Will said.
“Worried about someone taking his kids,” Pope shrugged. “And he never leaves his money.” There was a pause over the radio before Pope continued, “Plus--I don’t think he expects anyone to actually have the balls to try and rob him.”
“What does that say about us?” Will said, approaching the fence line and looking through a few of the slats. “Shit…”
“What do ya got, Will?” Tom said over the com and everyone waited with baited breath.
“I got an execution about to go down.”
Silence was over the coms as they all waited to hear more details. Frankie lowered his binoculars and stepped carefully over the fallen branches on the forest floor. Once he was next to Will, he peered through the slats in the worn down boards that leaned against the fence. Sure enough, there were a handful of men on their knees in the dirt, burlap bags over their heads as one of Lorea’s henchmen pressed the barrel of a handgun to the back of their skull.
“Fuck,” Frankie whispered, shaking his head.
Will closed his eyes as the first shot rang out and the man at the beginning of the line fell to his knees in a splatter of his own blood and brain matter. “Not our place, man.” The blond whispered and he was right. Going in there to stop whatever was happening would do nothing but get them killed.
That’s when they heard the screaming.
“No!” her voice rang out as another shot echoed in the courtyard of the mansion and the second hostage fell beside the first. "¡Pare! ¡Pare, por favor-- no hicimos nada! Déjame ir." Maybe if you tried Spanish they would listen to you, but you doubted it. (“Stop! Stop--please, we didn’t do anything--let me go!)
Frankie felt his stomach drop to his feet. He knew that voice. He would be able to pick her voice out of a crowd anywhere. He had heard her happy. He had heard her sad. He knew the way she whispered sweet nothings in his ear. However, what he had never heard was the near hysterical level of fear that her voice held now.
“What the fuck?” Will whispered as realization dawned on him too and the pair watched another of Lorea’s lackies pull you from the van screaming and kicking as hard as you could.
Your blindfold had fallen off in the transport from the city to the jungle in the middle of nowhere and although your hands were still zip tied in front of you, that didn’t stop you from trying like hell to get away. The burly bald man that pulled you from the van wrapped a large arm around your chest and picked you up off the ground. You continued to scream as they shot another one of your crew in the execution line and finally your assailant put his hand over your mouth.
“(Y/n)...” Frankie wanted to puke. Your screams cut through him like a knife. The physical pain he felt in his chest as he watched you with wide eyes was almost too much to bear. His feet started to walk him toward the gate before he even realized he was moving.
“Cat!” Will hissed, getting up from his hiding spot and grabbing him by the back of the shirt.
“Let me go--” Frankie tried to shove him off, keeping his voice down as much as he could. His hands shook, his knees felt like they were going to give out, but he had to get to you. His body was moving faster than his brain was processing. Why the fuck were you here? Here of all places.
Will tightened his grip and pulled him back down to his crouched hiding position. “You walk in there now, you’re dead and so is she!” Will all but begged him to listen to reason. “I don’t know why she’s here but at least she’s alive.”
Frankie held his jaw tight as he looked at Will and then back to the fence.
“Pope,” Benny said over the radio from his vantage point. “Did you know she was here?”
The radio stayed silent. Frankie put one knee on the ground to balance himself. He bit his lip and nodded to Will. He would stay put for now. But if they tried to kneel you down in the execution line, he was going in--with or without the others.
As the bald man put his hand over your mouth you did the only thing you could think of and bit down hard on his fingers, driving your heel backwards against his shin. He dropped you like you had burned him and you stumbled, catching yourself on your bound hands before getting back up and trying to run.
“Cuca!” the man cursed, shaking his hand out and quickly lunging to grab you by the hair. When you tried to kick him again he spun you around and back handed you across the face.
You hit the ground hard, a small cry coming from the back of your throat as your face hit the dirt. You could already feel the twinge in your lip and taste pennies on your tongue as you spat a small bit of blood onto the gravel. Hoping that you could close your eyes and this would all have been a dream, that's what you did. The fucker had hit you hard enough that you coughed, a hollow ache settling in your chest as you fought to not let yourself cry.
A smaller man exited the van and saw what was happening and slapped the bald lackie on the back of his head. "No dañe la mercancía!" (Don’t damage the merchandise)
"Esta puta necesita un bozal." The bald man spat back as he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you to your feet. (This bitch needs a muzzle)
“Lorea estará muy enojado…” The smaller man scoffed and waved off the bald man, heading back across the yard. (Lorea is going to be upset.)
Cunt. Merchandise. Bitch. Frankie listened to them degrade you and he felt the bile rise up in the back of his throat. He wanted to kill each and every one of them. No. Not just kill. He wanted to make them suffer. He wanted to smash that bastard's head against the bricks over and over until he could never lay another finger on you, or anyone else, ever again. He wanted to shove the barrel of his own gun inside that prick's mouth and pull the trigger until there was nothing left of his skull but a handful of teeth.
Frankie started to move forward again and Will grabbed him before he could get more than a couple of steps.
"Frankie!" He all but pleaded as Frankie tried to fight his grip with a grunt and they both struggled in the leaves. Will put his arms around the other man's shoulders in sort of a modified choke hold and kept him stationary.
"You gotta let me go man--they’re gonna hurt her." Frankie tried desperately. His throat was tight, his heart was pumping way too fast, he couldn't just sit here. "I have to go get her--"
"I can't do that, brother," Will shook his head and tightened his grip ever so slightly. "It's a death sentence and you know it. We gotta regroup. Come up with a plan. We'll get her--I promise."
Frankie watched helplessly as they took you inside the mansion and out of his sight. Two years. It had been almost two years since he had seen your beautiful face. Two years since that night after playing pool at that dive bar on the outskirts of Dallas. Two years since he had smelled your skin or tasted your lips and yet there you were--just as goddamn beautiful as he always remembered and he couldn't get to you.
"Whatta ya want to do, Pope?" Benny's voice came over the coms and brought them all back to their present task. "You're running this shit show."
"Meet back at the trailhead entrance. We'll go over everything and come up with a plan." Pope's voice said much too calmly in response and Frankie hated him for it.
He knew. He had known from the minute he showed his face back in Texas that you were here. He had lied to his friends and worst of all he had lied to Frankie. But why? Pope knew better than any of them how close Frankie was to you--that you were special to him.
He jerked his arms free from Will's grasp and stood up. He wouldn't do anything rash, he needed time to think. Ripping his hat off and squeezing the bill in his hand he cursed quietly and ruffled his own hair furiously. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!" He growled as he started back towards the rendezvous point, not bothering to look or even care where he was going. He ripped the com from his ear and let it hang useless from the collar of his shirt.
“We need to get the fuck out of this jungle.” Will watched him go and squeezed the button on his radio again. "Cat's not doing so hot, man."
"Yeah, no shit." Benny retorted. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Easy, smartass,” Will warned.
"Don't let him go in that house and blow our cover." Tom said, flatly. As if he really thought Will would be stupid enough to let such a thing happen.
"Way ahead of you." Will snapped back before getting up to follow his friend back through the trees.
---
The five of them drove from the mansion in silence. By the time the Jeep crawled its way out of the rough terrain of the jungle the sun had already set. Crickets were starting to chirp and a few fireflies speckled the tall grasses on the sides of the road as dusk took over. Will drove with Pope in the passenger seat and Frankie in the back, purposely putting distance between the two men for the ride to the small village that they were staying at.
No one said anything until Will parked the car in the gravel in front of a dive bar and all four doors opened as they climbed out. Before any of them could blink, Frankie walked around the car and grabbed Pope by the lapels of his button up shirt and slammed him back against the side of the Jeep.
“Fish!” Will said, but Pope held up his hand and waved the blond off as he winced. Frankie had had the entire drive to stew about this and he more than deserved whatever he had to say.
“You knew,” Frankie grit his teeth and got close to Pope’s face. “You fucking knew she was here and you said nothing!”
“Is that true, Pope?” Benny asked, sticking a cigarette behind his ear.
“Yeah,” Pope whispered and nodded his head.
“Why?” Frankie hissed and pulled him forward slightly, pushing him back against the jeep again, not bothering to be gentle about it. “Why wouldn’t you fucking tell us, man? Why wouldn’t you tell me??”
Frankie couldn’t keep his voice from cracking at the end and at this point he didn’t care. The thought of you in the hands of a Columbian drug lord was something he could barely fathom. Were you scared? Of course you were. Had Lorea let any of his guys touch you? Hurt you more than he had seen in the driveway? There wasn’t a way for him to tell you that they were coming to get you. You were alone--and he couldn’t do a damn thing.
“I needed to know that you guys were in this because you wanted to be--not because you would feel guilty if you said no. This is dangerous. We have no support. No back up. No med e-vac. We are on our own.” He said each word pointedly, looking from Frankie to the other guys individually before back to the man in front of him. “I needed to know that you accepted that because you wanted to and not just because my little sister was in trouble.”
“Trouble?” Frankie, laughed bitterly and shook his head. “You’re something else, Santiago. A flat tire is trouble. Getting laid off is trouble--she could have been killed.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Pope bit back, finally raising his voice a little. “Do you think this has been easy for me? That’s (y/n) in there! I’m her brother! I’m the one that chose the dangerous career--she was supposed to be safe!”
“How long have you known?” Tom asked.
“A few days,” Pope said, quietly. “I knew she was in the area because we were supposed to meet up. When she never showed the locals said Lorea had ambushed a group of Americans--journalists, a couple doctors. I tracked the ping off of her cell for a day, but then I lost it. I knew he had to have her.”
“Goddamn,” Tom said, shaking his head.
“I knew I needed help,” Pope looked back up at them. “And if I use any of the guys down here, Lorea will get whiff of this thing and he will be gone--and so will she.”
“Whose money is it?” Tom asked and Pope looked at him with a carefully blank face.
“It’s complicated. You were paid through a third party LLC--”
“Ehhh, it’s not that complicated. A hundred thousand dollars for a recon--,” Tom said sarcastically. “Whose money is it, Pope?”
Pope sighed and shook his head. “It’s my money.”
“Hijo de puta,” Frankie cursed and let out a pissed off chuckle. (Son of a bitch)
“That doesn’t change anything!” Pope tried but none of them were having it.
“Of course it does!” Will said, letting his voice get louder for the first time that night. “You thought you had to pay us to--” He stopped himself and took a deep breath.
Frankie eased his grip on the other man’s shirt a little bit and bit his lip. His chest ached. His heart felt hollow between his ribs and he wished the rock that was sitting in his throat would go away and let him take a deep breath as well.
“How could you think that we would have said ‘no’?” Will asked. “We care about her too--she’s your family.”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you the truth!” Pope pointed at him and squared his jaw. “If it was personal you all would have followed me blindly and I needed it to be your own choice.”
“You’re an idiot, Pope,” Benny said less tactfully and Will elbowed him in the ribs.
Pope wasn’t listening to them. He was focused on his best friend and he said the only thing he could think of. “I’m sorry, Frankie.” He was sorry, more than he could express. He didn’t want to be doing this, to see the people he cared about most going through this shit-storm. But they were here and it was up to him to get everybody out safe.
Frankie released him abruptly letting Pope fall back against the Jeep and leaving his shirt wrinkled from his white-knuckled grip. He shook his head and rubbed a large hand over his eyes and down his face. “I need a minute.” He kept his voice low, trying to keep his emotions at bay as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and walked off into the dark of the parking lot, focusing on nothing more than putting one foot in front of the other.
The four of them were left in silence as they watched him go.
“So, what about the money?” Tom finally spoke and Benny chuckled.
“Fuck you, man,” Will shook his head and fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ll go see if he’s okay.” He nodded in the direction Frankie went before walking away.
Pope rubbed the back of the neck and nodded. He looked back at Tom. “The intel on the money is still valid. Lorea is still running a fully operational drug business. It’s just an added bonus to if we can pull this off.”
“Good,” Tom nodded and crossed his arms. He jerked his head over towards the patio of the bar. “Come on. You owe us a drink and we need to come up with a plan.”
---
Frankie put the cigarette between his lips and flicked it to life with his metal lighter. He inhaled deeply, pocketing the metal square and closing his eyes to rub them furiously with the back of his hand. What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to wait all night before they loaded up and headed out?
He thought about the last time he saw you. I missed you. He always missed you. The way you said his name, the way you smelled, the way your arms wrapped around his waist as you laid your head against his chest--he missed it all.
“Shit,” he cursed quietly, moving the cigarette from his lips so he could wipe the couple of tears that had fallen off of his cheeks.
“Cat?” Will asked, and Frankie stayed facing away from him.
“Yeah?” he said with a clearing of his throat, but he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all Will.
“You okay?” Will asked, not knowing what else to say.
“Oh, yeah,” Frankie nodded, taking another drag off of his smoke and blowing it back out through his nose. “I’m great.” His tone was hateful, but he couldn’t make it sound any other way and Will knew it wasn’t directed at him.
“She’s gonna be okay, man--”
“Is she?” He angrily threw his cigarette onto the ground and twisted it under his boot. “How long have we been doing this? How long have we gone after guys like him?”
“Frankie--”
He took a step closer to Will and pointed his finger into his chest but Will stayed perfectly still. “Guys like Lorea do whatever the fuck they want until guys like us stop him. They take and they take and he has her! Why? Why did it have to be her?”
Will swallowed hard as he watched Frankie’s eyes get wider. It may have been the middle of the night, but the light of the crescent moon couldn’t hide the water that was pooling at the edge of his eyes. Will’s own heart broke for the desperate man in front of him. Of course he cared for you, too, but it was nothing compared to the torch that Frankie held for you. They all knew that.
“What if he hurts her?” Frankie, dragged his hand down his mouth and rubbed his jaw, trying to steady his shaking words. “What if--”
“We can’t think like that. You cannot think like that.” Will shook his head and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’re going to go in that fucking mansion tomorrow and we are not leaving without her. I promise you that.”
“What if he’s already killed her? And I never got to--” Frankie bit his lip and looked out into the street with a shake of his head. “And I never got to--” He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t put into words all of the things that he never got to do when it came to you. And now, for the life of him, he could not come up with a single thing that was so important that it had stood between the two of you all of these years. He closed his eyes and fell silent, not even resisting when Will pulled him into a vice-like embrace and clapped him on the shoulder a few times.
“We’re gonna get her back. And you’re going to tell her everything you’re thinking. Okay?” Will lowered his voice and squeezed Frankie’s shoulders in support. All Frankie could do was nod and hope he was right.
--
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#Frankie Morales#triple frontier#frankie morales x reader#pedro pascal#pedro character fic#santiago garcia#oscar isaac#frankie catfish morales#Fun fact All along the watch tower was the original name of this fic but I thought it was too long#So you get it as a chapter name because I fucking love me some jimi#addicted to you#I fucking love writing angst man and idk what that says about me as a person but im having a BLAST with this#do yourself a favor and listen to Jimi Hendrix while watching that gif#its life changing#like a gearing up montage#BUHBUM BUM DUM DUM BUH
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◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ & ღ & ♫ bc ur a slut for music ; & ✮ (i want explanaTIONS ...gET META W THIS SHIT )
◈ — share some head-canons you have for a muse of your choosing, but x4.
[ elijah kane ] ◈ — all efforts to get him into studying how to make robotics like hyacinth have resulted in a lot of miniature woodland creatures able to sprint across desks. it’s not exactly what anybody had in mind, but hey, you never know if ilya might not want to send in an actual animal for something he has going on. they can call up sugar kane industries ( big face-palm here ) to take care of the job. ( wyatt voice: seriously, you couldn’t think of anything better than sugar kane. ) / hyacinth kane has a nice ring to it. elijah has tested out several different nicknames: sugar kane also for them, mistah k, ( missus k? ), cinthy ... cindy ... ( sean: yeah! cindy k! like cindy crawford! / who the fuck is cindy crawford? / wyatt — / how old are you. ) / he’s had a life-long dream to be able to go scuba-diving off the coast of — some exotic island he can’t remember the name of. beforehand, it was one of those things that he was too afraid to do, but full-out war changes your perspective. in truth, he’s always been a water baby, growing up going swimming in the local rivers and running pellmell down the dirt lanes. he grew out of it, and then grew back into it. whether or not he’s going to be able to do that without monroe tagging along ( and then by default, ilya, and then probably hojin will want to come, and then ravi will have to, and then oliver will want to watch over them and then jinho will buy a whole yacht with his dumb vampire money — ) — ah, well, there’s worse people to spend an extended holiday with. his father will come along too: sit on the deck in a lawn chair and drink a virgin margarita as he deserves after putting up with this whole extended family. and with his son being a you-know-what.
[ alice bedi ] ◈ — there was a time where she was interested in wigs. she had percival sit down on her shack’s bed and watch as she perused through at least fifteen different styles of wigs. each one got a firm head-shake: too rough on your complexion; lilac looks good as a colour, but the style is horrid; why did they think it was a good idea to make a bob that length? a tough customer. she returned back to wearing veils, her preferred style being that of mantilla, or the veil that’s worn to chapel over a jade comb. due to the volume and length of her natural curls, she rarely wears the combs at all, but will if it’s a particularly formal occasion, like that time she accompanied percival to a ‘high-society event.’ ( translation: they crashed a party because he was bored, and she had a bad feeling about him going alone. ) / as the local librarian’s assistant, she’s the first to get in the way when someone is overtly curious: why are you asking so many questions? hmm? the irony is that she herself asks just as many questions — she insists that the difference is: she reads the room and knows when it’s inappropriate to ask them. ( and if she knows it’s inappropriate to ask them, and instead chooses to risk asking them regardless, it’s because she knows it’ll smooth out in the end. / despite what she wears daily, one of her most favourite colours is moss green. there are a multitude of reasons. moss is her favourite foliage. it’s similar to algae, another favourite foliage. and it reminds her of someone who she says is her sister; however, anybody who knows her, knows that she has no blood-siblings. one or the other might be a lie, or both might be the truth. when she’s in a mood, she’ll smear the moss at the base of her neck like a perfume, a splotch of green beneath white.
[ huang shen ] ◈ — he designed an irrigation system to work, specific to his farm, to be able to make rice paddies despite the surrounding environment. it’s a southern crop in the united states, but there was no way he was going to move to the south just to expand the business. his entire family was so relieved about it that they danced through the sprinklers and set off fireworks — and none of them are really into that kind of thing. it’s particularly incredible due to the area they’re in, being very prone to sometimes too much drought and too much rain, and both are responsible for driving out selling numbers of crops. his plan is to switch into an agricultural degree, and perhaps even expand it into engineering, so that he can continue helping this way. / one of his surprises for algernon was learning sign language. for the longest time, months even, shen made it out like he had no idea what was being said, and let damien, as surly as ever, be the translator when algernon was unwilling or unable to speak. in the background, however, he was working with a tutor and seeking to understand better what it meant to be both HoH and mute. then, when algernon’s birthday came around, everyone went silent ( holy god he was so nervous ) and he gave an entire romantic, long speech entirely in sign language. he’s sure that some of it got lost in translation due to how hard his hands were shaking, but the way that algernon kissed him afterwards, it didn’t seem to affect much. now, they communicate constantly on this even ground. / he’s started up horseback riding again — and has roped tobias into doing it alongside him. tobias might have grace on the stage floor, but certainly not on the back of a horse; he somehow ended up upside-down beneath the horse’s belly, and then fell down in a tangle of limbs. shen has taken to the western side of things, re-learning how to barrel race and rope cattle; but he and tobias have had to separate their lessons due to these antics. lucas isn’t allowed to come to any of them; his stupid remarks send them into fits of laughing. ( bold of us to assume he doesn’t just sit in the truck and shout anyways. )
[ deok bae ] ◈ — due to the empire no longer supporting his upgrades, nor looking in his general direction, he has had to find other ways to obtain new modifications. this is including, but not limited to, going and pulling them out of other people’s bodies as catharsis — but usually, he defects to yuri and silas to fix him up. to his chagrin, the LED-light in his forehead has absolutely no use whatsoever, only displaying his brain’s processing as a symptom of installation. he pulled it out himself via the tip of a knife’s blade. the next time that he’s seen by those who haven’t seen him in quite some time, he might be unrecognisable. i am not deok bae — perhaps deok bae is no longer himself either. if there was no connection to eli in his head, he would forget that; perhaps he would merely succumb to the machinery, perhaps he would succumb to the wolf-dom. there are several pairs of teeth in his mouth awaiting for their moment to bite. / when he was a teen, his version of ‘sneaking out’ would be to wheel his chair to the gardens at the back of the temple, where he would sit and think for hours and hours. his father would come and find him there; sometimes, master jhcor would instead. his father would return him back to where he needed to be, but master jhcor would sit beside him and gaze serenely until bae felt the need to speak what was on his mind: his angers, his fevers, his rages. one time, he was surprised to see that it was not master jhcor, nor master deok, but zan coming to sit with him. his heart had sat in his throat the whole time, half-expecting zan to laugh at him or say something particularly piteous. instead, the conversation was — well, looking back, absurdly normal, all things considering. when bae blinked tiredly, zan rose and took the handles of his chair and took him back. he hadn’t intended to ask him to do so, but it was done anyway. / bae drinks a lot of soda. it’s somewhat fitting, if you believe all that talk about how coca-cola can double as a cleaner due to the high carbonation and way it’s made. he does seem to get shiny after several cans — it’s also convenient that he can’t experience sugar-highs nor malfunctions of the liver or stomach due to too much consumption. he considers himself to be a soda connoisseur as a result. he offers a lot of hmm, that’ll taste disgusting comments that annoy the shit out of the others — but then kisung takes a drink and bae ends up being right, so there’s no regrets.
ღ ━ favourite canon ships for your muse(s). are there any you dislike?
there’s ... none that i dislike. there’s moments of come on, but that’s bound to happen. i think the favourite ships are the ... guardian / princess vibes ( whether it’s literal or not: akane / the samurai, quinn / sehrin, jian / elaine ). i also love the growing from previous immaturities towards each other ( grey / tobias, jihoon / wyatt, playboy / jordan ) — and himbos of course ( hojin / ravi!! ) there’s also the whole ... tsh, vampiric aesthetic that we get ( minzhe / yongha ) ... the ones like jisoo / mingfei, cyrian / ulysses, cadoc / pestilence ( exploring violence against but without the stickiness ). of course, if i keep going, i’ll end up listing all of them and then where would we be.
♫ ━ a small playlist for a muse of your choice
for nam jungsoo, because i actually once did make a playlist for him:
1. brand new — sic transit gloria ... glory fades
2. within temptation — what have you done
3. iamx feat. imogen heap — my secret friend
4. florence + the machine — shipwreck (the odyssey)
5. crown the empire — hologram
i mean, the songs are still kinda relevant considering his current character ...
✮ ━ top three favourite muses that you’ve played
but is it possible to pick three favourites ... that’s the real question. maybe. jianguo, because of catharsis, because of cultural exploration and similarities. grendel, because of the depth, the personal torment, the surrounding family. jinho & julius, because of exploring that darkness. and famine — man, now that’s something. there’s a lot more than three though. like blood and jisoo and tobias and arthur. but. the questions INSIST THAT I CHOOSE.
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Hi, I'm a fellow writer in the fandom and I admire your work. I wanted to ask, as a popular writer, do you get fixated sometimes on the number of kudos/comments/hits etc that your new work gets, and does this impact your motivation/inspiration? I think comparison is the thief of joy, and I really want to get over this feeling when I post my own work, so was wondering if even popular and regular writers such as yourself feel like this to, and if , what's your secret? Thanks!
Hi! 1) You are so sweet, ahh, and 2) YES, I DO. Gosh, yes, I absolutely do get insecure about those kinds of things, and I think that anyone who says they don't ever feel that way is either lying (to themselves, possibly) or maybe just pure magic, like some cross between a writer and a unicorn.
I love ao3 and I love all of its metrics and I love numbers and statistics, but there’s definitely that shadow side where having all of that easily available makes it deceptively easy to compare your own work to other people’s. I do it all the time! It honestly makes it a little hard for me at times to read h50 fic and fully enjoy it, because I keep... looking at it and wondering how my own stacks up against it, unwillingly. That's not a relaxing experience, and sometimes not even a very fun one. (Another part of it is that I just write SO MUCH for h50 and there is SO MUCH I still want to write, and I don’t want to risk reading something that’s very close to an idea I had and then never being quite sure if what I write after that was influenced by the other person’s work or if it’s really still my idea, because I have this (pretty irrational) fear of accidentally stealing someone else’s work even though one of the really great things about fandom is that it’s a very collaborative process as a whole and being inspired by other people’s stuff is usually totally okay, buuuut that’s a different rambly story.)
And I definitely do also get... some cringey feelings, hardcore, around fics I posted that don't do very well numbers-wise. Sometimes it's expected - fic that doesn't follow traditional formats or doesn't feature Steve/Danny, for example, is always something where I KNOW it won't get as much attention because I know how fandom works and that lessens the sting because it doesn't HAVE to hold up to those other fics that perform way better, because I already know it's not really comparable. The truth is, of course, that most fic is not really comparable to other fic, but it’s easy to fall into that trap anyway. If I post something that seems like my average kind of work and it gets less kudos or comments than usual, I do start to doubt the fic and second-guess myself - is something about this weird? Is it too [insert quality x]? Is it bad? Did I unknowingly do something terrible and people are now avoiding me? The answer to all of those is probably no, and going through it a bunch of times has definitely helped, because what usually happens is that I end up somewhat avoiding the fic in question because it makes me a little ashamed and awkward to think about it (a relative failure! oh no! I'm human!) and then, eventually, I return and reread the fic. By that point I have enough distance from it in time that I can look at it a lot more objectively, and it's way easier to see what works and what does not than when I posted it and I had just read it a dozen times in twenty-four hours and the words were burned into my brain. And upon that reread, inevitably, I realize that, holy shit, it was NOT AS BAD as I had made it out to be in my mind! It’s actually kind of fun! Imagine the ego boost of realizing your most cringy recent work is actually pretty okay, haha, and it's silly, but it's a revelation every time. The quality of a fic is not dictated by how many people read it or comment on it or like it, and intellectually I absolutely know that, but it’s hard to remember when it’s about yourself and you’re still in that emotionally vulnerable place of having just shared your work with the world and it feels like the world is not as into it as you thought (or hoped) it’d be. It’s honestly very, very reassuring to have those experiences to fall back on, but sadly the only way I know to get there is to just tough it out and feel super awkward for a while.
When I’m writing, on the other hand, I usually don’t really think about what other people might think of it. I have the advantage that (pretty much) all of my work consists of fairly short stand alone stories, which means I don’t have to struggle with keeping my motivation up for a second chapter of something but I get to start fresh every time, and that’s nice, because I can just lose myself in the joy of throwing words around and making characters do things that make me giggle. That’s not to say I never think of the outside world while writing - I realized, pretty recently, that I occasionally end up constructing paragraphs or pieces of dialogue a certain way mostly so it will make for a good excerpt to put in the eventual fic description, which might give me a sense of accomplishment because it’s nice when things work out and look good, but in all fairness it’s probably far more motivated by attempts to package the finished work attractively so other people will want to click on it than by anything else. I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. I don’t think so - I don’t feel like it lessens my work and it doesn’t interrupt my enjoyment of it in the moment, which are the key elements for me - but other people might disagree.
But the heart of thing is, just, there are SO MANY factors that influence a fic’s numbers, and not all of them are visible (I’d argue most of them aren’t, in fact), and it always helps me to keep that in mind. It puts things in perspective somewhat and softens the harshness of a black and white kudo count judgment. Numbers can depend on when you post a fic (what day of the week, time of the year, time relative to big fandom moments, whether you’re in the middle of a global pandemic or not), how you pick your title, what you put in the description, how you use the tags, what genres or tropes are popular in your specific fandom, the genre of your fic in general (pwp as a rule tends to get lots of hits and few kudos or comments, for example, making it totally unfair to compare it to G-reated fluff fic with super different ratios), how much you’ve posted before (because if someone likes one of your works, they’re often likely to check if you have more in the same fandom), how many fics other people post around the same time (because yours might be gone from the first page of most recently updated works in a fandom or ship tag very quickly if others push it out), how big your fandom is(!!!) (over two thirds of my works on ao3 are for h50, but h50 only makes it into the top 10 of my most kudo’d works by the skin of its teeth) and definitely also what your fandom’s culture is like (compared to a lot of other fandoms, h50 fans are a-ma-zing when it comes to leaving comments, my gosh, and as a writer I adore all of you), how old your ao3 account is (the longer you’ve been around, the more likely a higher number of people is subscribed to you as an author or has read your previous work or has encountered your name, etc), how long your fic is (under a thousand words in my experience generally does less well than 1-5k, but longer fics might end up with lots of chapters which switches things up because people come back to it when there’s an update, and even if a long work is all in one chapter it will probably stand out for the wordcount and might attract attention that way, etc), whether or not your fic is part of a series (in my experience it will probably get more hits because it’s a chain of fics that leads you to the next one, but the kudos might not go up at the same rate because people might forget a kudo or reread previous works when a new one is added), whether you make a habit of commenting on other people’s fic (I’ve had comments saying MY comment on their work led them to my fic!), if you have social media like Tumblr or Twitter where you can promote your work (it’s advertising, basically), and any of a bunch of random little other factors. Sometimes, I see a sudden little cluster of kudos on an old fic in the daily ao3 kudos email, and I assume someone somewhere maybe recced that fic, but it usually remains a total mystery who or where or even if it happened at all and wasn’t just a weird coincidence to begin with. Sometimes the thing a fic’s popularity depends on is really just whether it clicks with people at that point in time, whatever that means, which is an even more impossible thing to grasp or predict than anything else.
Or you can look at things from a totally different angle and not try to make yourself care less about numbers, but just accept that you do because you’re human and we all crave validation, and instead try to roll with that. A brain hack: when I do start getting down about numbers, it also helps me to focus on one work and just... try to visualise what those kudo (or hit or bookmark or comment) counts mean, if you were to translate them to the real world. While it can be super helpful to remember that there’s a LOT going on that you can’t see and that’s virtually impossible to really explain, it’s also nice to somewhat do the opposite and try to make things as concrete as possible instead. I like measuring in school classes (~25-30 heads, I’d say) and “my fic only has fifty kudos but this other person’s has ten times as many” could easily make anyone sad and demotivated, but “my fic has fifty kudos and that’s TWO WHOLE CLASSROOMS packed full of people that all read my work and liked it so much they wanted to give me a little thumbs up for it” is actually pretty cool and encouraging, I think. Or you could measure in sports teams (I don’t know sports, but soccer has 11 players on the field per team, so as soon as your fic has 33 kudos that’s three teams which means you’ve got yourself a little beginning league! how exciting!) or in DnD campaigns (variable of course, but most of mine have had around four players plus a DM, so if you have twenty kudos? that’s FOUR WHOLE DnD campaigns that enjoyed reading your fic, and it’s fully up to you how many half-orcs that includes). You could apply this method using literally any other measurement that works for you, too. If you have a hard time painting a mental image of numbers, you could even open up a Paint doc or get a piece of paper and start counting out little dots or copy-pasted images of a person, or get a big bag of physically present M&Ms and count them out, or take a good look at your dog and then go around the neighborhood and collect forty-nine more dogs and pile them all into your home and be slightly frightened by the utter delighted fluffy chaos that ensues in your living room. That’s how many people liked your fic! That’s a heck of a lot of wagging tails! Who knew a kudo could bark this loudly!
Disclaimer: maybe keep the dog thing as your very last resort, because your neighbors might not be super into their pet getting dognapped for the purpose of visualizing fanfiction stats. The point is really just to remember that there’s an actual person behind every kudo you get, no matter what the cumulative number is, and even if you have seven or five or three kudos, that’s seven or five or three very real people that hit that button. That’s pretty damn awesome. Also keep in mind how you feel if you read a fic, and take some time to realize that every single person that left you a kudo went through that same process of spending time reading words (the words you wrote!) and experiencing that story and THAT’S why they left that kudo. It’s a real person’s real investment.
This ended up very long and rambly, so tl;dr: You are in no way alone in feeling that way, it's okay and normal and so very very human to feel like that, but you still shouldn't let it get you down, because numbers fake being meaningful very well but are deep down just little squiggles on your screen and they’re more scared of you than you are of them, while at the same time there are real individuals that enjoy your work even if you usually never see them. Your fic is worth posting. That’s the one factor in all of this that’s a constant, not a variable.
(And as a very important sidenote, just be kind to yourself, always. Does it truly stress you out? Are you feeling really bad about it today? Does it make your anxiety spike? Then give yourself room to take a little step back and allow yourself some time away from it. Go watch something you enjoy, or read something nice, or do something else that makes you feel good. Fic is something that should add to your life, not subtract from it. You don’t owe anyone anything, not even yourself in this context, and I used to push myself occasionally to get something finished TODAY, and eventually I started realizing, well, why? Why not instead of reading it over again just get some sleep or watch an episode of something I want to watch, especially if I literally just finished the fic and I feel a little unsure about it and it might actually be beneficial to me and my own feelings about it if I just give it a day or even a week and let it rest and then look at it again and THEN post it, if I want to, whether that’s with some changes beforehand or not? Who set me that deadline that’s apparently looming over me? I did, and it’s fake, and it’s there for absolutely no good reason. Breathe. Put yourself first. Be really really really selfish about your own fic writing experience, even, because it’s supposed to be something you enjoy (that’s what a hobby is!), and the rest is secondary.)
#anon#ask#writing#ao3#it's very odd to get called a popular writer by the way oh my gosh#nice!!! so very nice!!! thank you!!! but also difficult to reconcile with my own internal image of myself#all the more evidence that brains lie to us all the time#*
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Return to Paradise -- Chapter Eight
Masterlist Previous Next
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2945
“This is the life,” I smile, shoving a few fries into my mouth. “Take-out and watching TV.”
“It is a good way to end the day,” Nari nods. “After a crazy week, I need a break. Daycare is way harder than people think.”
“Six days a week most weeks is tough regardless of the job,” Emily rips a chicken finger in half, handing me a half.
“I have a lot of vacation stored, so if it ever becomes too much, I can take breaks. The kids are lovely, so it helps.”
“You’ll be such a good mother, Nari,” I sit up and grab my drink off the coffee table.
“Well, I will have raised you two for two summers after this,” Nari giggles. “I do wonder how taking care of my own kids will be like. It’s not going to happen for many years.”
“Do you think Jin will be a good father?” Emily nudges me to grab her drink.
“Jin and Nari would be some of the greatest parents,” I hand Emily her drink, leaning back with mine in hand.
“Oh, hush now,” Nari shakes her head. A redness on her cheeks. “Seokjin and I aren’t nearly to that stage of our relationship.”
“Would you tell us if you were?” I shove my piece of chicken into my mouth.
“You two would be the first to know,” Nari sips her tea. “Don’t even worry about that. Now, how was Skyping your parents?”
“Tae was so nervous,” I giggle. “He really didn’t want to mess up and not get my parents approval. Gah, he was so cute when he told them how much he loves me. I thought that my heart might explode.”
“They loved them, right?” Nari asks. “Your parents fully approve of Namjoon and Taehyung?”
“They do,” Emily and I nod.
“Yoongi entered near the end, and I think that helped too,” I wiggle into the couch. “He’s my best friend. My other best friend, that is.”
“Namjoon was very calm during the meeting,” Emily says. “But he told me afterwards he felt just like Taehyung. I thought that was sweet. That he would be that nervous to meet my parents with all that was on the line.”
“No need to worry now then, Amber,” Nari smiles. “Your love is not going to be messed with. You just had to let everything play out.”
“I guess you’re right,” I smile. “Oh, yeah, something else came up when we were talking.”
“What is that?” Nari tenderly smiles.
“Well, BTS have a little comeback during July, and, though we haven’t really been asked, they might want to take us along,” I bite my lower lip.
“Oh, wow,” Nari slowly nods. “I don’t know. That’s some time away from me, and I don’t know where you would be all the time.”
“We will have Jin talk to you,” Emily says. “He’ll have all the answers, and be able to explain everything.”
“That will make me feel better,” Nari sighs. “I do understand your wanting to go. Spending time with your boyfriends means a lot, and you aren’t here for that long, and you are gone for a long time.”
“It does mean a lot,” I place my trash onto the coffee table. “July is still some ways away, so no need to worry yet.”
“You have a point there,” Nari giggles. “I’ll miss you girls, though.”
“I’m sure Jin could get you into a show,” Emily leans into me. “You want to see him live, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Nari stands up out of her recliner. “I already have a few times now, actually. You’ll love watching them.”
“Ah, so you’ll let us go?” I try my best boxy Taehyung smile.
“You are cute,” Nari chuckles. “Show Taehyung that smile.
“I will,” I relax my face. “Needs practice, and it will never look quite like his.”
“But I am leaning towards letting you go with them. You’ll be able to explore South Korea a bit more, and wherever else they go. Plus, have fun seeing the boys doing their job. You would hate me if I didn’t let you go, as well.”
“Eh, we wouldn’t hate you,” I smirk.
“Not forever, that is,” Emily smirks with me.
“I’ll call Jin soon so we can talk. I will let you know my decision soon, don’t worry,” Nari smiles. “I know what happens when you worry.”
“Ah, truly, this summer is going so well so far,” I close my eyes. “I am loving my life right now.”
“Your mental health back up to where it needs to be?” Emily asks.
“Back up where it should always be,” I happily sigh.
“I wish that life could always be like this,” Nari says. “You girls deserve this kind of happiness all the time.”
“Next year,” I pick my phone up off the couch to see texts from all the boys in all kinds of single and group chats. “Geez, those boys are crazy with texting.”
“Anything interesting?” Emily chuckles, picking up her phone to see what texts she got.
“Tae loves me, Yoongi sending me possible lyrics to look over, and the young boys are planning some video game day or something. Not everything is translated exactly correctly, but at least I can understand most of it.”
“I remember last year that you didn’t text them that much, and now it happens all the time,” Nari giggles. “They must miss you the second they can’t see you anymore.”
“That is probably true,” Emily says. “Though, I think that we miss them just as much when we get back to the apartment.”
“We’ll see them tomorrow, and they know it,” I roll my eyes. “Not much would keep us away from them. That is for sure.”
********
“Holy fucking shit,” I groan, curling into a tighter ball on the couch. “Fuck this. Periods suck.”
“I can’t believe how hard your period hits you,” Emily places a bowl of soup on the coffee table. “Glad my cramps are mild.”
“Yeah, yeah, shut the hell up,” I take a few deep breaths to overcome the pain of my lower abdomen. “Thanks for making me soup. Chicken noodles should help.”
“I hope so,” she pats my head, taking a seat in the recliner. “I know that I tease, but I hate seeing you like this.”
I slowly sit up, careful not to move too quickly in fear of a cramp attack. “Tae is missing out on me looking cute in his t-shirt,” I smile, bringing the bowl of soup up to my lap.
“You do look adorable,” Emily turns the TV on. “Simple black and white stripes.”
“I want a sweatshirt of his,” I slowly sip on some soup. “I would be drowning in the fabric as he is just that much bigger than me. His smell is helping me get through this day.”
“That would be overly cute,” Emily smiles. “I bet Namjoon would share a baseball cap with me, or just buy matching items.”
“He would, but that’s just his type of personality. He’s very caring, yet wants to keep up the cool dude kind of attitude.”
“Comes with being an underground rapper for so long. You get a little rough.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I slurp some noodles. “He has a soft spot for you. I can see it when he looks at you.”
“I like that I get to see his soft spot the most. Makes me feel special. Taehyung’s cuddly with you, and that is cute.”
“He’s really touchy, that’s what he is. I’m totally okay with it. He wants the world to know I’m his, or with him, or whatever,” I place the now empty bowl onto the coffee table. The warmth helping keep the cramps at bay. “He’s cute, so I’ll let him be a bit protective.”
“He gets jealous easy, but that’s because he loves you. Kind of hot, a jealous guy.”
“I agree. However, he should know that I would never leave him, and I want to be with him for the rest of my life.”
“He’s just scared because this is his first serious relationship. All past relationships didn’t get as far as they have with you.”
“I did forget about that. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. We were just waiting to meet each other.”
“That is a neat thing to think about. Really makes the soulmates thing seem true and all. I mean,” Emily chuckles. “It’s an idea I believe in, but others don’t, so that makes it believable to them.”
“I understand,” I smile, lying back down on the couch. “Sunday was nice hanging with them at the dorm.”
“Playing video games for most of the day is pretty sick. I never thought that would be something that we would do with them.”
“Jungkook and me going out for a run was fun. I have to keep my running body in shade. Running is so nice.”
“We can do morning runs once you aren’t dying.”
I laugh, sending a cramp exploding through me. “Shit, that hurt. Ugh, why must my body do this to me?”
“Sorry, my fault.”
“I’m fine,” I groan. “Monday, the dance lesson was cool.”
“Dancing with the other boys was the highlight of that day.”
“Hoseok was sure he would hurt me since he had to kind of sit on me. No matter what I said, he was still overly careful.”
“We still almost did the dance perfectly. Helps we’ve watched them do it so many times.”
“That does help, it seems,” I sigh. “Yesterday was not a good day for me, though. I could feel my body hyping up for this shitty period.”
“Yeah, I could tell by the look on your face. Yoongi and Taehyung were very concerned for your wellbeing. I think they thought you were going to get sick, and in a way you kind of are.”
“Ah, Yoongi the rock, caring for me. That’s so cute. He is too sweet for me.”
“Brother love, that’s what it is. He is like a brother in every way to you.”
“Writing poems together is fun,” I smile, the cramps subsiding for the time being. “Jimin is just fun to talk about looks with. Both of us need pick-me-ups sometimes.”
“Jin is that mature adult that can actually help with problems,” Emily chuckles. “He is funny when he wants to be, though. Being the oldest must be tough.”
“Youngest as well. Jungkook has all eyes on him, so he can’t mess up.”
“True. Hoseok is just off to the side being so extra.”
“The weird band of brothers. I wish my body wasn’t trying to kill itself. A day away from them is good time wasted.”
“We can make it up once we move here.”
“Still can’t figure out a good way to tell our parents that one.”
“It will come to us.”
“Yeah, the day we don’t come home.”
“They must have a feeling we want to live here. Our loves are over here,” Emily sighs. “Maybe we should read and calm our brains.”
“I can do that,” I grab my manga, Deadman Wonderland, off the coffee table.
Emily and I read for many hours, eventually turning on some music as the apartment is overly quiet. I have to get up multiple times to use the restroom and grab the next manga in the series. Only needing Emily to grab a pill for my cramps once. We have already been informed that Nari is going out with Seokjin right after work, so dinner is up to us.
“Take-out is always nice,” I smile, sitting up on the couch.
“Any cravings?” Emily asks, picking up her phone.
Before I can respond, the doorbell rings out.
“Um, maybe someone already sent us take-out,” I shrug, placing my book on the coffee table. “How crazy would that be?”
The doorbell rings again, and Emily stands up. “I’ll get it,” she nods before walking off.
I sit in silence, focusing on my breathing to keep the cramps calm.
“It was take-out,” Emily’s voice fills my ears moments later.
“Good, I’m hungry,” I turn around to see Emily, as well as Taehyung and Namjoon with take-out containers.
“We wanted to come over to make sure you were okay,” Namjoon says.
“You boys are very sweet,” I tenderly smile, falling into my Korean tongue with better ease. “I am feeling much better.”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day,” Taehyung walks around the couch, sitting next to me. “My jagi was ill and I wasn’t able to take care of her.” He begins opening the take-out containers he has. “One job of a boyfriend is to take care of his girlfriend when she is sick.”
“Catch a summer bug?” Namjoon takes a seat in front of the recliner that Emily has returned to.
“No, it’s a little more,” Emily runs a hand through her boyfriend’s hair. “We both know when it will hit, I guess you could say.”
“Hm, I think I know what she’s dealing with.”
“I don’t.” Taehyung pouts.
I lean into Taehyung’s side. “Um, well, you see, it feels like my uterus is trying to kill me.”
“What? Jagi,” Taehyung feeds me something from the take-out container. “Wait, what is a uterus?”
Namjoon, Emily, and I burst into laughter.
“Hey, what’s so funny?” Taehyung shoves some food into his mouth.
“You can tell him, Amber,” Emily takes the container Namjoon is holding out to her.
I look up at Taehyung, “Tae, the uterus is part of the female reproductive system.”
Taehyung looks down at me, “Oh. Why is it hurting you? Should we go to the doctor?”
“No, no doctor. It happens every month for a few days.”
“What happens?”
I groan as a pain shoots through me. “Ah, bad cramps. Part of my period.”
“Period?”
“No one has told you about girl’s cycles, Tae?” Namjoon asks.
“No,” Taehyung adverts his look on me, clearly embarrassed.
“It’s okay, Taehyung. That’s why I am telling you now.”
Taehyung reconnects our gaze, “I will listen.”
“Every month, from around fourteen, sometimes younger, sometimes older, a girl has a thing called a period.” My cheeks are slowly heating up. “During three to five days, her body is getting rid of the egg that didn’t get fertilized. This happens by, um, ah,” I freeze up, embarrassed to inform him what I am going through right now.
“What happens,” Taehyung feeds me something else in hopes of coaxing the answer out of me.
“Bleeding,” Emily speaks up. “Girls body’s bleed to expel the egg and stuff.”
I groan out of pain and embarrassment. “Does that make sense?” I look away.
“And your body hurts you for this?” Taehyung puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer.
“Amber gets the worst cramps of any woman I know,” Emily answers.
“Do you have pain relievers?” Namjoon asks.
“I do,” I wiggle around to a more comfortable position in Taehyung’s grip. “They help, but I don’t like relying on stuff like that. Plus, after today, it gets a lot better.”
“What can I do to help?” Taehyung kisses my head. “I want to help you feel better.”
“Well,” I look up at my boyfriend, the blush fading from my face. “Keep feeding me, and maybe a massage later.”
“Of course,” Taehyung leans down and gives me a kiss. “Are you wearing my shirt?”
I giggle, “Yes. It’s comfy and smells like you. Helped me not miss you as much, and I don’t like to wear anything tight when on my period.”
“Cute,” he grins.
“So, how long are you guys staying over here?” Emily asks.
Taehyung leans back, “I don’t know.”
“Until Seokjin-hyung gets back here after his date with Nari.”
“Ah, yes. They should be talking about July and all that good stuff,” I smile, accepting food from Taehyung’s fingers.
“Jin seems like he will be able to convince Nari to let us go,” Emily hands her trash to Namjoon.
“I hope so,” Taehyung gives me a small squeeze. “I need my jagi.”
“No reason to worry about it,” Namjoon nods. “Let’s just enjoy our time right now.”
“I am trying to do that as much as I possibly can,” I grab Taehyung’s free hand, placing it on my stomach. The warmth from his hand like a hot pad for the cramps. “Ah, Taehyungie, I am so glad that you are so warm.”
“What are you doing?” Taehyung rests his chin on the top of my head.
“Cramps sometimes aren’t as bad when heat is applied. A heating pad can’t reach me, and the rice thing that Nari had was fine for a while. Your warm hand, though, feels like heaven.”
“Would it help if it was right on your skin?” Taehyung toys with the bottom of the shirt I have on.
“I don’t know, Tae, that seems a bit too much,” I squirm.
“Not at all,” he sneaks his hand under the shirt, resting it on the middle of my stomach. “There. How does that feel?”
“Good,” I happily sigh, letting my eyes fall close as I settle against Taehyung. “You don’t need to feed me anymore. I wasn’t that hungry to begin with. Not much sounds good right now.”
“I’ll just keep holding you and stuffing my face.”
“Once everyone is done eating, how about we watch a drama?” Namjoon speaks up.
“That sounds great,” Emily says. “As long as Amber doesn’t need me to do anything else for her.”
“Right now, I feel great,” I goofily smile. “I don’t care what we do, as long as I get to stay just like this for as long as possible.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hope you enjoyed reading! A cute chapter that I loved writing. The gif is a bit of a stretch, but it was cute and I thought “Why not?” Please, I would love to know what you thought! :D
#BTS fan fiction#BTS series#BTS x OC#BTS imagine#Jungkook x OC#Jungkook imagine#Taehyung x OC#Taehyung imagine#Jimin x OC#Jimin imagine#Namjoon x OC#Namjoon imagine#Hoseok x OC#Hoseok imagine#Yoongi x OC#Yoongi imagine#Seokjin x OC#Seokjin imagine#My OCs
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Poison-Wielding Fugitive Chapter 50
Things have fortunately been going well. Our life in the town of Lif’el goes on without a hitch.
But as for Wayne though… well, right now, he’s about to get out of the bathtub. I go over to him and slowly rip his skin off.
“Hngh…?! That didn’t hurt?”
Ripping off the tough skin revealed a patch of fair, untainted skin underneath.
The day after, I helped peel his skin like aiding a snake shed its skin.
Townsfolk peered through windows, alarmed at what I’m doing to Wayne. Word soon spread that Old Man Wayne came out of his pupa and spread his wings.
To call it like is kinda… well, it’s not too far off. But after helping him shed, Wayne shakily stood up and looked at his own body in amazement.
“I can stand! My body feels fantastic! Am I really cured?! I ain’t never felt better than this! Never mind if I turn to stone again, this is invigorating!”
His pessimism didn’t come off with his skin, eh? Is he going to be alright?
‘…? I see it now. After eradicating the disease that had taken control of his skin, the well-concealed curse is now revealed.’
A curse? What do you know about it?
Veno materialized a sheet of paper.
‘Lass, go prepare this ritual and magic circle. And fetch a high-leveled Priest. ‘Tis time to lift a curse. I know not who, but someone placed a distasteful curse on the man.’
“Y-Yes?! Umm, it seems like we shall be performing a ritual to break your curse, so I shall be off to find a priest!”
“Mu!”
Under Veno’s orders, Arleaf, along with Rurika and the helper, brought home a priest.
Then Arleaf took charge in drawing the magic circle and started the ritual… I think?
With focus on the now-flexible Wayne, they began chanting and thus, the ceremony.
Though it looks like it’s for summoning a demon, the magic circle glows with a beautiful light. And at last, the ceremony concludes.
“Cohgray! You really are quite somethin’. I’d better fire up the forge while I am still able to freely move about. I will smith until I can’t.”
‘Consider Wayne cured of petrification. Though I cannot say that there are zero chances that it shall return…’
“T-Thank you for your kind words.”
It makes me uneasy that you’re not confident that he’s cured… but it should be fine if we keep an eye on him, right?
“So? Arleaf? What was it that y’all wanted from me? Did you mention you were looking for your ancestor’s journals or something like that?”
Since we’ve stayed at Wayne’s household for nearly a week now, I think we can tell him our story.
It doesn’t seem like he believes all of it, but I can tell he’s thinking.
“I’ll pay people a visit and collect all records of your ancestor. And… wasn’t there talk of wanting me to forge somethin’?”
“Umm, Yukihisa?”
“With a budget of about 1,000,000 lag, I was hoping I could commission you could repair, improve, replenish, or even make us some new equipment.”
“Hmm, a whole million? I don’t want to know where you got that money… but fine. You mentioned repairs. Could you show me what you need fixin’?”
“Of course.”
I take out the crossbow and sword I got from Veno.
‘Let me take out some materials as well.’
Elbatoxin parts and a small amount of rat felts instantly appeared.
“I see you’ve got a stockpile goin’ on. Well, I think I can make somethin’ suitable for you two with this. Now, let’s see that crossbow…”
Hmm? Do you have an idea of what needs fixing?
“This looks exactly like somethin’ a student of mine sent me. After finishing the apprenticeship, some blue blood without two brain cells to rub together commissioned a bespoke crossbow from him. Said somethin’ about makin’ lots of money, too.”
He sent you a spare one? What, was he really proud of it or something?
“Maybe I’m wrong about that this is somethin’ my student made. Or perhaps that idiot noble gave this to you as a present. Or maybe even that he lost it in a funny turn of events, and it landed in your hands… hmpf.”
Yikes… he’s totally suspicious of me.
What do I do? Just wave it off?
‘It would be fine to tell the man the truth, aye? That thou received it from me!’
What’s the point of that?
More importantly, do you really think he’d believe that?
‘The lass has explained everything already!’
He probably doesn’t believe half of the things we said!
Augh, whatever! I’ll channel a sweatshop survival skill: The Smiling Poker Face!
“Yes, you could say fate brought it to me.”
‘It truly is about how and not what thou sayest… but do mention how it was obtained. From the apprentice? From the noble? From me? Or even that thou borrowed it after finding it on the ground.’
I can’t stand that abrasive way Veno speaks. I ignore him.
‘Canst thou not survive in thy world without spewing ambiguous half-truths?’
Oh, just shut up already. I’m trying to focus on tricking him here!
“… would you believe that the idiot noble picked a fight with a dragon, got defeated, and had his crossbow relinquished from him? And then somehow, it ended up in my hands? Kinda romantic, don’tcha think?”
“Hmm…”
Wayne taps at the stock of the crossbow, pointing out something to me.
Gah?! Was there a proof mark or a serial number?!
‘And the truth comes spilling out!’
“So, the noble challenged the Lord Dragon, had his weapon taken away, and was left alive? If it were the same Holy Dragon of our ancestors’, then that isn’t exactly a far-fetched story. They said He was a merciful one.”
‘Heh.’
I can picture a smug, shit-eating grin on his face right now.
You’re just too chicken to kill those warriors and heroes! Because you’re afraid of bad karma!
‘How nit-picking of thee! It is because of my mercy that thy talk is so smoothly progressing!’
Oh, and humble, too!
“It is true. The Lord Holy Dragon slumbers within Yukihisa!”
Arleaf takes the chance and comes to my defense.
But that would smell real fishy to strangers if they were told that.
“I get it, I get it. But Arleaf, no matter how close you are to your relatives, you should not speak so freely of this matter. There are heathens who do not believe in our ancestor’s words.”
Wayne warns Arleaf.
“Though it may be credible to me, seeing how I have been cured and how I have seen the crossbow, this isn’t something you should tell everyone.”
“I-I understand…”
After all, we are fugitives looking for a way to free this bond to Veno.
Not that I don’t trust Arleaf’s relatives, but this certainly isn’t something I’d like everyone knowing.
previously: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /ch016/ /ch017/ /ch018/ /ch019/ /ch020/ /ch021/ /ch022/ /ch023/ /ch024/ /ch025/ /ch026/ /ch027/ /ch028/ /ch029/ /ch030/ /ch031/ /ch032/ /ch033/ /ch034/ /ch035/ /ch036/ /ch037/ /ch038/ /ch039/ /ch040/ /ch041/ /ch042/ /ch043/ /ch044/ /ch045/ /ch046/ /ch047/ /ch048/ /ch049/ /ch050/ /next/
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#Poison-Wielding Fugitive#pwf#Average Translations#AvgTL#osm#Yusagi Aneko#Aneko Yusagi#light novels#ln#web novels#wn#isekai#毒使いの逃亡者#毒使い#一般の英訳#ライトノベル#ラノベ#オンラインノベル#アネコユサギ#異世界
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Little Brother Blues - Part 5
Part 4 - Part 6
His vision blurs again as he stares at the page in front of him and it takes him a moment to realize it's not just another part of the thing that just makes no sense to him. With a groan, he rubs at his eyes under the pair of glasses he'd finally given into wearing and blinked until the words became somewhat readable. He turns to the notebook where he had started keeping his makeshift cipher to help him translate, finger trailing over the symbols to find the match. Square with a squiggle, no not that one, the other square with a squiggle. Ugh.
Why couldn't Ford have written the damn thing in English? Or Spanish, Stan could read that as well as English. Hell, he'd have settled for Russian, he could at least stumble his way through that somewhat passably thanks to Yuri. But this weird alien, made up language? It's taken the better part of the last five years to get just a mostly helpful cipher figured out. There were usually some things that were wrong but Stan could usually figure it out. Mostly. Passably.
He chances a look at his watch and can't suppress another groan at the time it shows. Four hours until opening, five if Stan wanted to say screw it to the old people that came first thing. But they were the ones quickest to buy souvenirs for grandkids that didn't give a shit. Extra sleep versus money. As if that was really a choice at this point in his life. He could only steal so many parts and it wasn’t like he could steal Ford’s mortgage payments. Then again, maybe if he broke into the bank he could…no, too much attention.
He's so tired. Seasonal rush of tourists have been running him ragged; he really needed to get a way to run the forest tours while not on his feet. And then the portal had been keeping him up later and later. He'd hoped once he'd gotten the panels to work again he could flip the switch but the power wasn't communicating somewhere; he was lucky to get the portal to spark. He'd blown out the power three times in as many weeks trying to figure out where the disconnect was. Maybe it was time to steal a few more books on electrical engineering and skim them until they made sense? He needs to find a new supply of copper wiring too. Maybe the streetlights downtown had been repaired so he could steal them again.
A yawn effectively shuts down his thought process, brain function shutting down and rebooting. Holy Moses he is tired.
He gives a regretful look back to the portal that looms in the other room. He needs to get some sleep if he's going to be able to work. When he glances back at the book, the words start to blur again, ink running together when his eyes move over the page; he has a feeling that he's not gonna get much more work done tonight anyway. He looks back up at the portal again and for a second swears he sees it glowing again with an old silhouette in it. Sleep deprivation and guilt were never friends to him though they had always found kin in each other.
“Tomorrow, Sixer. I promise. I can feel it, I'm almost there.” He repeats the same line he's said almost every night for the last five years, puts the same confidence into his grin that he does when he tells the cops he had nothing to do with whatever they're asking. He closes the Journal, placing his hand over the one on the cover to see the extra finger stick out of an otherwise perfect match. “High six.” He mutters under his breath, trying to will himself to find comfort in the gesture. It never works but maybe someday it will.
Tomorrow he'll get it. It'll be fixed and Ford will be back and Stan can apologize properly. Tomorrow. Everything will make sense again after he gets some sleep.
“YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT, HUH?”
Tap tap tap
Stan jolts awake, hands slapping down on the middle console and the door as he searches around. Mabel's face is pressed against the driver side window that's slightly cracked due to the heat. Right. He was picking the kids up from the lake. Stan shakes his head to get the remnants of the dream out of his mind and to get his brain back into the present before rolls the window down the rest of the way. She's got the boys behind her; all of them are red everywhere their skin shows. Probably should've given them sunscreen. Oh well.
He gives Dipper’s sun-reddened cheek a pinch when the boy steps up to the driver side door just to laugh when the boy swats him away. It brings a rush of fond memories to the surface; he almost swears he can smell salt mixed with the telltale scent of sun touched skin. “You kids are going to be peeling like little monsters in a few days.” he feels the need to point out as the three of them climb into the backseat.
Mabel’s amazed sounding “Cool!” mixes with Dipper’s disgusted groan and Stan shares a laugh with the girl. He can see Ford slumping against the door, a tired look on his face. Apparently Stan wasn't the only one that had needed a nap.
“Too much excitement for you, huh, Sixer?” he teases naturally though the bags under his brother’s eyes are a little concerning. Did he have those this morning? Stan can’t remember; he had been too focused on what he was going to say to McGucket to pay much attention to the kids.
This reminds him of what he’s learned. It eats time. The thing eats time. How the hell were they supposed to fix that? Stan didn't doubt that they could, he'd pulled Ford from another dimension for heaven's sake; there wasn’t much he couldn’t believe they could get done. But the how was a little mind boggling. Maybe the kids would have some ideas once they could sit down and think everything through together. They were both smarter than Stan, could probably see something he couldn't.
He'd never admit it to anyone, but he wishes he could talk to the older version of Ford about this. Heck, if the positions were reversed, Ford probably would've had a fix before nightfall on the first day. If he'd cared enough to do so. Probably would've done it just to prove he could. Been all smug about it and the kids would've thought he was so cool. Jackass.
The thoughts threaten to spiral him into a bad mood but he tries to shove it down. His issues with his brother are well documented at this point but they're a problem for another day. Stan's a big fan of why do today when it can be done tomorrow, or better yet when you can con someone else into doing it for you? Now, wouldn’t that be the greatest con, getting someone else to deal with his emotional baggage for him. Heh.
"We saw a chaimera, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel yells, hanging halfway over the passenger seat. She flails her arms as they pull out of the parking area to start the journey back to the Shack. “It was super cute! But then its mama came and we had to punch it!”
Stan laughs at that, “What did I tell you kids? Few things in this world can’t be solved with a good punch.” he angles the mirror so he can see them all and feels his good mood dip when he spots Ford asleep against the door. Running around for a few hours in the sun shouldn’t have him so tired. Hell, the past few days have just reminded him why their father had such a strict bedtime for them as kids. “What’s up with him?”
Mabel settles back into the seat and reaches under the passenger seat to grab her scrapbook she had apparently stashed there. Stan really needs to teach her how to pickpocket; girl was shockingly sneaky for a bundle of loud sparkles. “He fell asleep on the boat on the way back.”
Dipper nods. “I think his head hurts. He's been wincing and rubbing his temples when he thinks we're not looking.”
“Just like you do!” Mabel grins and moves her hand in a waving motion with her fingers spread. “Twins!” she began scribbling on a page of her scrapbook. “He punched a snake though so I think he's okay.”
Stan’s thoughts split into two directions at that. First that a snake was much less impressive than a dinosaur as far as punching reptiles was concerned. Second is worry because maybe he shouldn't be letting the kids go off on adventures that might be dangerous. He knows that they can handle themselves, of course, they're all very tough and smart, but he feels a resurgence of that old fear bubbling up inside him. The fear that kept him lying for the last thirty years but especially this summer. The fear that had him checking on the kids randomly at night sometimes to just ease his nerves that they were still there. The fear that had him angling the mirror to see Ford again, frowning at the wrinkle in his brow as his mini twin slept.
Ford is still asleep by the time they arrive back at the Shack as the sun is setting and barely makes a fuss when Stan picks him out of the seat. The kids run into the house ahead of them while Stan puts him in his room. While he’s there, maybe he checks his brother over for snake bites. And maybe after he’s relieved to see that his brother was bite free, he takes the time to take off his brother’s shoes and cover him with a blanket. Ford’s sleeping so he can never tell anyone and Stan will never admit to it.
The air in the hall is filled with the delicious scent of chocolate that Stan is more than happy to follow. It leads him to the kitchen. He can’t help a smile at the sight of Mabel standing on a chair in front of the stove, stirring a pot with an overly large spoon. Dipper is putting four coffee mugs of the table that already has the last bag of marshmallows in that Mabel hasn’t devoured yet on it. This is exactly what he had in mind when he said the kids were smarter than him.
Stan grabs one of the small jars of glitter from the cabinet and sets it next to the mug with the pink, glittery M painted on it. “Scooch over, sweetheart.” he bumps Mabel with his hip and takes the spoon from her. “Kid, drop a handful of those in my cup before your sister eats all of them.” he calls to Dipper, pointing to the bag.
“Ha, like that would stop me.” Mabel laughs as she jumps down from the chair and hurries over to the table.
The table is spattered with drops and drips of spilled chocolate by the time all their three cups have been filled, thanks mostly to Stan not having the best of aim. Oh well, he’d just ask Soos to clean the kitchen tomorrow; boy was always happy to do whatever Stan asked of him. Stan’s happy to see he got a good helping of the marshmallows before Mabel had attacked the bag. Her cup is to the brim of overflowing, though Dipper’s not much better, just less glitter. If there’s anything their family shared, it was a sweet tooth. That and horrifically bad vision, as the kids were no doubt going to learn in a few years.
Stan takes a long drink, savoring the thick, sweet taste. It was nice to just sit with the kids, a taste of normal in the mess that their lives had been. Man, maybe they should have a movie night soon. Some bad horror movies at 3 am sounded like a great idea. Ford liked even the bad movies; it was funny to see how amazed his brother was over even the worst effects. Sometimes Stan forgot how much things had changed since he was a kid.
“So I think we need to look through Journal 2 again and do a sweep of the forest, see if we can’t find the thing that bit Great Uncle Ford.” Dipper suggests after a few minutes. He shifts in his seat so he can, apparently, pull a map out of his pocket and unfold it on the table. He’s got various sections marked with red marker. “If we can’t find out what it was, maybe we can just find it again and capture it.”
Stan sighs and moves to pull out the page that McGucket had printed out for him. Well, the normalcy was nice while it lasted. Back to his full time job of trying to save Ford. “This is what it is. It eats time.”
Dipper snatches it instantly and maybe Stan has a little bit of pride in the way the boy lights up when it comes to learning something. He’s never really understood the appeal of studying or learning a bunch of stuff you were probably never going to use, but it was nice to see how happy it made people like Dipper or Soos. Then again, maybe if he’d actually paid attention in school it wouldn’t have taken him thirty years to fix the Portal.
Dipper’s nose wrinkles as he reads over the page. “It eats time?” there’s a pen in his hand though where it came from Stan has no idea. “Something in its venom…”
“Like a snake?” Mabel suggests while she shakes a good helping of glitter over her cup and stirring it with a spoon. “Don’t they make, like, anti-venom? Or maybe Blenjamin can help. We could, like, challenge him to deadly laser tag again. Get another time wish!” she mimes firing a gun, complete with laser sound effects. “Glarg-far or whatever! If it can do infinite pizza, it could probably do, like, re-old man-ening.”
“I feel like that would be a grievous abuse of our truce with him.” Dipper frowns.
Stan shrugs, “I’m always for grievously abusing something for personal gain. I ever tell you guys about the old lady that helped me smuggle rare kittens with a hyper cuteness gene? Convinced her we were legally getting them to a cat charity. Pretty solid scam for like six months until the cops raided her garage.” he lets out a fond sigh. He’d made a lot of money off that. But cat scams were always high risk; so many scratches. Now it was all about puppies.
Dipper rolls his eyes but Stan can see the smile on his face. “Still. I think Mabel might have a good idea with the anti-venom.”
“All my ideas are good!” she says with glitter smeared across both cheeks.
“Right. Sure.” another eye roll. “But yeah. Maybe if we catch the thing we could like...study it’s venom? See if there’s an antidote. Maybe Ford could help him.”
Mabel reaches over to pull the bag of marshmallows closer to herself. “Wouldn’t that mean letting him in one of the labs? I thought we were, you know, not letting him see that stuff cause of all the questions. You know with the whole being a crazy scientist and the stuff with the portal and how him and Stan are idiots.”
Stan lets out a mildly offended grunt but doesn’t really argue. At least she’s also calling Ford stupid.
“Maybe we should tell him about...what happened?” Dipper winces as he says it, plunking an extra marshmallow into his cup and giving it a stir. “I mean, keeping secrets doesn’t really seem to help us accomplish much. And it’s getting really hard to keep coming up with reasons why he can’t look at certain parts of the Journals. If he can go to the lab with me, maybe we could figure something out?”
Stan glares into his cup, poking a floating marshmallow down into the cocoa until the burning liquid stings his skin. “Listen, I’m not exactly his biggest fan, but the kid doesn’t deserve to know about what a mess our future is.” Stan doesn’t want to have that conversation, not again. And maybe he doesn’t want to lose Ford again any sooner than he has to.
“But maybe Ford will remember all this when he’s grown again and he won’t be as mad.” Mabel pipes up, cheerful as ever with a thick, glittery chocolate mustache. She grabs another handful of marshmallows from the bag and shoves them into her mouth. “An’ den you cah hug eh oht!” her cheeks puff out like a squirrel.
Stan shakes his head, “Pumpkin, there’s a bigger chance of me giving all my money to a ‘charitable cause’” he does the air quotations for emphasis, “than of Ford and me making up. I tried for thirty years to make things up to him; a week as a runt isn’t going to change that. Once he’s back to normal, he’ll remember how much he hates me and things will be status quo again.”
There’s the sound of rubber squeaking on the hardwood floor and then a second later, the back door is slamming in the doorframe. Stan is on his feet in a heartbeat and at the window with enough time to see Ford running towards the woods. He swears under his breath and chases after his brother. He nearly stumbles down the stairs that lead down from the back porch. “Stanford! Get back here!” he yells after him, grabbing the broken railing to catch himself. His chest constricts when Ford turns to glare at him; why could he still see so much of his adult face in that expression, even with all the baby fat? Stan tries to shove that down, crush it down to fuel for his grin. “Come on, Sixer, come back inside.”
“I heard what you were saying, Stanley!” Ford jabs a finger in the direction of the house. There’s a shake to his whole body as he steps back, moving into the darkness of the yard. “You said I hate you!”
Stan takes a step forward, moving slow like he would if it was an injured animal and not his own brother. “You just heard the wrong part. C’mon, get back inside.”
Ford shakes his head. “No, he said we...he said I didn’t--” he stamps his foot before meeting Stan’s eyes again. Stan is caught off guard by the heat in his stare. “What happened to the Stan o War? Why don’t we have it? Why aren’t we sailing, Stanley? Tell me!”
Frustration is building inside of him; this isn’t the time for this. “It--that’s complicated, Stanford. Trust me, it doesn’t matter, just--”
“It matters to me!” he slaps a hand to his chest, voice raising, taking another step back. “I want to know! I deserve to know! It was our dream and you won’t tell me what happened to it! You all keep lying to me! It’s not fair! What happened?!”
Stan can feel his eye twitching and a throbbing starting in his temple. “Ford, this isn’t the time to talk about this. Come back inside and we’ll--”
“Why? Why is this not the time?!” Ford’s voice raises to a full blown yell, his fists at his sides. “Tell me why you won’t tell me!”
“Because I said so and I'm the adult, Stanford!” he starts marching towards him, longer strides getting him closer faster than Ford can stumble backwards. “Now stop being childish and get back inside!”
“Just because you look like Dad doesn't mean you have to act like him!” the words are a slap; Ford instantly covers his mouth with both hands like he had just swore as Stan freezes in his place. “I--I didn’t mean that. I mean, I just...I deserve to know. I just want to know why.”
A bitter bark of a laugh escapes Stan before he can even process it. The words echo in his head, catching on the walls to ignite a spark that lights the fuel he’d shoved down. “You want to know what happened?” he sweeps his hands out in front of him, gesturing to the space that was still between them. “I cut the rope and let it drift out to sea!”
Ford had destroyed their dream when he’d replaced it with one that was entirely his own, but Stan had physically destroyed it. That was what he was good at. He’d driven to the beach and cut the rope with the salt air stinging his eyes because like hell would he let Ford have it. Ford hadn’t wanted their stupid childish dream, hadn’t wanted Stan, so he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of being the one to bid the boat a goodbye. He’d have burned it if he’d had the gas and matches.
Ford’s arms go slack at his sides, all the anger and indignation melting away into a stunned expression. “You...you cut the rope?” his voice shakes with the kind of emotion only a kid can show; like a nerve rubbed raw and left exposed to the world. “Why? Why would you do that?!” his voice catches on a hitched breath. “Why?”
The fire begins to die as quick as it flared, leaving Stan with the old feeling of being empty and cold. “Because things don’t work out, Sixer. It’s…” he runs a hand through his hair and looks away. “Because it’s not us against the world. Because life isn’t what we planned it to be. It’s not what either of us wanted, but it’s the way life is.”
“You said I hated you.” Ford shakes his head and when Stan looks at him again, he can see the wet streaks catching the light on his cheeks. “Do you hate me?”
“What? God, Ford, no.” he moves in front of his brother, dropping to one knee to grab his shoulders. “Sixer, I could never hate you.” Not this Ford, and not the older one either, really. Everything he’s ever done has been for their family. So much work, so many sleepless nights and fighting to get Ford back. It didn’t go the way he wanted, no part of Stan’s life did but especially where his brother was concerned. But he didn’t hate him. Could never hate him. And as pathetic as it was, Stan knows that if Ford were to ask for his help again, just like thirty years ago, Stan would come running. “Never.”
Ford drops his chin to his chest and his shoulders are shaking under Stan’s hands. “But I can hate you. That’s who I become. He was right.”
Pines men don't cry. He hears the words of their father in his head but he still has enough shame from Ford's comparison to keep them from falling from his tongue. He doesn't want to be that man; he is okay being lots of different people, many of them ones he could never be proud of, but not him. He never wants to be him. Instead, Stan gives his shoulders a squeeze, feeling uneasy with the use of the pronoun game. “Who was right, Ford?” he gives him a little shake in hopes of getting his brother to look at him. “Sixer, who have you been talking to?”
“I’m going to fix this. I’m not going to let myself be that. I'm not going to let me ruin everything.” Ford looks up with a determined look on his face. Stan nearly falls back when he lunges forward, his arms wrapped tight around Stan’s neck for a moment. “I'm going to make it alright again, Lee. I promise.” Before Stan has a chance to react, though, he’s pulling back and taking off towards the woods again.
“Sixer! Wait!” Stan tries to snatch him but he’s too quick. “Stanford! Stanford come back!” by the time he’s back on his feet, Ford has broken through the treeline. In the dark, there’s no sight of him once Stan reaches the trees. He cups his hands around his mouth. “Stanford! Stanford!”
His voice echoes through the trees but the only response he gets is the sounds of animals scattering. For the fourth time in his life, his brother has disappeared.
#little brother blues#gravity falls#stan pines#stanford pines#dipper pines#mabel pines#kainichivonwrites
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Secrets Kept
Namjoon Scenario (Soldier AU)
Warnings: Talks of a war, Swearing, A lil’ angst, but overall fluffy.
Words: 4.6K
Summary: Serving at a training camp during a war is hard enough. Serving while you’re a woman undercover is a lot more difficult. Namjoon then decides to lend you a helping hand. In his own, twisted, way…
Requested: No
MASTERLIST
You had just lifted your undershirt off you to examine your bruise when there was a little knock on the door. Thinking it was just Taehyung having finally come to help with patching you up, you only unlocked the door. “Come in,” your voice was little hoarse as you looked at the bruises blooming right under your rib cage. You had fallen pretty hard from a height while trying to finish your drill course but still plowed through to the finish. That’s when you told Taehyung to meet you in the washroom. “The drills took a toll on me eh?” You chuckled as you looked at the door that opened through the mirror. Taehyung was still not coming into view so you turned around to show him a little better. “I think we just ne-” Your eyes widened as your eyes landed on Namjoon instead of who you had expected.
The both of you were frozen as his landed on the ace bandages wrapped tightly around your chest in order to hide any femininity you had. His eyes trailed back and forth from your chest and your face and it felt like a century before he finally said something. Well, more like yelled. “You’re a gi-”
His exclamation was interrupted by you smashing your hand on his mouth. “Sir, please… Sh. Let me explain.” Your eyes were side as you pleaded.
His breathing was erratic as he thought back to all the times this revelation was hinted at. The way you were so bold all the time yet shy when it came to changing in front of the other boys. Or that one time you got in trouble for ‘misplacing’ a bunch of bandages from the infirmary. He nodded hesitantly and you let your hand fall from his lips. You still looked scared as you quickly locked the door behind him turned around to face him.
He leaned on the sink with both his hand holding on to the sink to steady himself. He felt the world underneath him tilting. How could he not get this worried? You could be jailed for this! He’s sure this falls under the treason category. You weren’t supposed to lie to officials. “Jae…” He trailed off your fake name. “That’s not your name is it?” He questioned and you looked down at your feet in shame. He looked disappointed. He then sighed. “Do you know how dangerous this is? How much trouble you could get into for this? Holy f- I don’t even know what the hell to say right now… I’m your higher up! I’m supposed to report you to authorities now!” His voice suddenly raised its volume while his hands flew around in anger.
“What? Wait no. Please. I need to stay.” Namjoon scoffed. You weren’t even worried about what was going to happen to you. You wanted to stay? He folded his arms and tilted his head.
“You can’t! Why do you want to? Go home! You can go home and stay saf-”
“I don't want to stay safe when my brother is here!” You interrupted him. Your desperation translating itself into anger. Taehyung’s face flashed into Namjoon’s mind.
“Taehyung… Is your brother?” He asked. Your chest suddenly felt more constricted. That’s when you remembered you were basically half naked in front of your superior. You lifted your shirt off the ground and tried to cover yourself as much as you could without actually putting it on. You meekly nodded your answer.
“I know we look nothing alike. We were both adopted but he’s still my younger brother. I couldn’t bear to see him get drafted like this.” There was no use in hiding it.
“Taehyung’s been helping you with this? How the hell did you get past the screening test.”
“I had help. My inspector agreed to let me through after I um…” You trailed and Namjoon only waited for you to finish. “I paid him…”
“Bribery!? Jae- Or whatever the hell your name is! You just keep adding on to the list that could get you in so much fucking trouble! How the hell did you hide for this long?” He asked incredulously. Now, he just found himself questioning how you had been so irresponsible for having been caught by him. If this how you had been the entire time, it was a miracle your identity stayed a secret for this long. You were in their only fucking communal washroom for fuck’s sake.
“I jus- I was expecting Taehyung. How was I supposed to know you would walk in?”
“I wanted to check on you. You just had a nasty ass fall. I- This is fucking unbelievable.”
“You made me do the drill four times! That’s double what the others did! I didn’t think that you’d come check up on me!” Your voice was still soft but defensive.
He groaned as he looked up at the ceiling. “What are we going to do?”
“I… Just do whatever you need. I don’t want you to get into trouble for this.” You gave in. Defeated. You knew for a fact that now you were going to be sent back. There was no stopping.
Namjoon sighed as he looked at you. You were trembling slightly and he doesn’t know if it was because of the cold or the possibility of being sent away. “Shit…” He can’t believe he’s doing this. “What’s your name?” He asked.
You looked at him, blinking in surprise. “(Y/N)...” You answered a little suspicious. Maybe he just wanted your name to report you.
“Fine. (Y/N). I’m letting you stay.” Your face immediately brightened and you gasped. Before you could thank him, he continued. “But you need to keep this a fucking secret. Be more careful than you are and up your fucking game. Make sure no one else finds out because god knows what type of people some of these sleazebags are.”
You can’t believe it. He’s helping you. Namjoon. The person who everyone in camp despises because of his strict ways. “Thank you so much, sir!” You split into a large smile. “I’ll be careful and I promise I won’t let you down.”
“You haven’t yet so I expect you not to. And call me Namjoon.” He smiled inwardly at your relieved stature. He realized that you had tightened the shirt you were holding close to your chest and he could perfectly see the purple bruise on the side. “Now… Let me see that…” He walked closer and moved your shirt. You jumped a little since it was sudden but didn’t move. “That bruise looks way too big. Put your shirt on and follow me to my tent, I have a first aid kit and I’ll patch you up there.”
You had just come back from Namjoon’s office when you felt a familiar hand wrap around your wrist and pull you off towards the only actual infrastructure in the camp. You suppose it was some sort of church but you didn’t really know for sure. You were dragged inside by a warily quiet Taehyung and only stopped after he made sure no one was around to hear the both of you.
“Lift your shirt. And tell me what the hell took you so long in his tent? You got me worr-”
“He knows.” Those two words cut him off so quickly. You’ve never seen the color from his face drain so fast.
“What? He knows? Shit, what the hell does that mean?”
“It means he knows. He walked into the washroom while I was waiting for you and um… Saw me shirtless. He basically chewed my ass out but he let me explain and he’s actually letting me stay.” Truth be told, you were still just as shocked as he is right now. How in the fuck did you do that?
It was quiet for a bit as the gears in Taehyung’s brain slowly made sense of what you had just said. “He’s letting you stay!” Taehyung yelled out. You slapped a hand over his mouth and harshly shushed him.
“Tae! Be quiet!” You hissed at him. He ignored your reprove and looked at you baffled.
“Wait, so does that mean he knows everything? The bribing, the ace bandages, and-” His eyes widened even more. “Oh my- He knows about me too doesn’t he? Shit (Y/N)! He already hates me! I can’t deal with any more pressure than he already puts on me!”
“Tae… Calm down. He’s letting me stay, okay? Don’t worry about it too much. He’s… Not as evil as we made him out to be.” You resigned to saying.
“Not as evil? Is this the same (Y/N) who cursed him out all night and didn’t let her brother sleep? He made you sleep out of the tent once!” His voice was back to a whisper but he was still taken aback.
“He did. But he made sure I wouldn’t die by bringing me blankets and letting me light a fire. I didn’t realize this but he has in own way of caring for everyone on camp. Like a tough love type of deal.” And he did. You remember that one time Jungkook, another boy on camp, had a breakdown because of our initiation training. The boy was only a kid and a soft soul and Namjoon let him slack off the entire day. Telling him to take it easy and threatened all of us to never speak of it after that day. You just thought everyone had a soft spot for Jungkook and Namjoon was not susceptible to it.
“You sound like you want it to be that way.” He smirked.
You scoffed and ruffled his hair. “I hope it to be that way. We can’t have any more slip-ups like this or else who knows where the hell I’m going to end up.”
The mood suddenly turned solemn as Taehyung pursed his lips at the thought of what would’ve happened if Namjoon hadn’t taken your side. He silently wrapped his arms around your and let his head rest on top of yours. “It’s fine. Even if he turns on us, we can always find a way out okay? There’s no way I’m letting anyone touch my sister.”
“Jae! Pick up your pace! You’re falling out of formation.” Namjoon yelled at you from across the field as he smirked. That jerk was pushing it. It had been over a month since your secret was now known to more than just you and Taehyung and you rue the day you let your guard down and let Namjoon in on the secret as well. The asshole began to use your secret as leverage and made you work even more. Practice till you couldn’t even feel your legs because of the onslaught of physical activity thrust on it.
Tough love my ass.
You guys admittedly spend more time with each other. Many even started to whisper about favoritism but that was thwarted every time he chose you to clean detail. Which was every time cleaning detail was due. It wouldn’t have been a problem if you didn’t have to clean up the toilets the men always used unceremoniously. You puked the first time. You even accused him of sexism when you were alone to which he scoffed and changed your cleaning detail torture to security detail.
Now, you were just sleep deprived.
You legs burned as you did as Namjoon told you to. You were only running laps but the lack of sleep and the excess amount of physical exertion from yesterday was taking a toll on you. But you gritted your teeth and kept up your pace to keep up with the rest of the boys. They seemed to have it much easier considering they were running on a full five hours of sleep at the least.
You focused on keeping your legs moving so much, you didn’t even notice Taehyung switched places with someone else and grabbed onto your arm but still kept his face looking forward. “On the bright side, we’re having a feast tonight.” He tried to distract you from your exhaustion.
“Yeah? You think we’re finally going to have actual food? Because I’m planning on stuffing myself like a pig.” Tonight was the national day feast. The thing that only happens once a year and you’re glad that you guys are finally going to get something other than bland meat and potatoes to eat.
He let out a breathless laugh. “You always stuff yourself like it’s your last day on Earth.”
You laughed as you nodded and dropped the conversation. You couldn’t keep up your pace if you kept talking like this. He gladly dropped it as well but his hand on your arm tightened.
You were in the middle of splashing your face with the cold water when you looked in the mirror and examined yourself. Your hair was cut short to a buzz cut before but it was longer now. Maybe a haircut was due soon. Your cheekbones seemed more prominent than they were before this mess. And let’s not mention your dark circles. That was more of the sleep deprivation than anything. You sighed as you wiped your face with your shirt and walked out.
Walking out, you realized you might have been in the washroom for a little longer than planned. The music filled your ears as hearty laugh mingled with the notes in the air. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine being at the town center back home. You smiled to yourself as you made your way to the canteen only to find that they had actually set up the feast right outside of the canteen. Not like you were complaining.
You spotted Taehyung sitting with Jungkook and Jimin, someone all of you had gotten to like and made your way towards them. “Where’s the food?” You asked.
They all burst out laughing as Taehyung made you space beside him to sit. “Jae and food. I told you guys he won’t see anything but food tonight.”
“Yeah. So where is it?” You ignored their snickering glances.
“Calm down,” Jimin chuckled. “It’s coming out soon. The kitchen boys got our back and told us they were bringing it to the table.” He finally gave you the answer you were laughing and you nodded in thanks. And as if right on cue, came the food. The smell hit you first and you practically drooled over it. They had outdone themselves. There was actually seasoned food! You got excited. Finally something good to add to your awful day. And the ambiance was perfected with the sun setting behind the cloud and casting a light pink and blue light across the sky.
The food was finally brought to your table after going through the others and set down. “Hey Jae, sorry to interrupt you but Namjoon needs to see you in his office.” The cook, Jin, let you know as he set down the delicious chicken down in the middle of the table.
“Are you kidding?” You asked and he only pursed his lip and shook his head. “Can’t he wait till after dinner?”
“He says it’s urgent.” He quickly said before rushing back into the kitchen to get the other tables their food as well.
You groaned loud and you kicked the dirt under your foot. “Is he fucking serious? He’s really trying to kill me.”
“Go on Jae. We’ll keep you some food set aside. Don’t keep him waiting.” Jungkook smiled as he assured you. “He hates to be kept waiting.”
You nodded as you lifted yourself off begrudgingly and waved them a weak goodbye before making your way towards his tent. Namjoon was going to be the death of you and you were going to make sure your ghost haunted him.
You arrived right outside of the tent and waited right outside as you calmed yourself. You were definitely going to burst at him if you didn’t. Once you were sure that you were pacific, you made your way inside the tent.
Shit, you should’ve knocked.
“Fuck!” You let out as your eyes landed on his naked figure. No really. He was as naked as the day he was born. “Shit.” You quickly covered your eyes with your hand and turned around. “I’m so sorry. Jin told me you needed to meet with me urgently. I wouldn’t have come in if I had know-”
“Shut up. It’s just a little bit of skin. Don’t you see all the boys like this all the time?”
“No? I avoid it?” You still had your back turned to him but you could hear the smirk on his face.
“How has no one found you out yet?” He chuckled. You heard some ruffling after and he spoke up again. “I’m decent. You can turn around.” And when you did, he was still shirtless. “Better?”
You nodded as you tried to avoid running your eyes lower than his face. Why the fuck did the asshole have to look like Adonis under his clothes? “You- Uhm- You needed me for something?” Your previous anger had completely dissipated into fluster.
“Yeah. And don’t worry about missing the feast. I’m keeping you in here for a while so Jin will bring us food in here.” You nodded and he looked into his little cupboard and pulled a plain black shirt before pulling it over his head. “Don’t just stand there. Take your place.” he motioned towards the chair that you had become well acquainted with over the past week. You made yourself comfortable on it and waited for him to take his seat across his desk, but he surprised you by walking in front of you and leaning on the desk.
“What’s it this time? You want to scold me for this morning?” That’s usually what he started this off with.
But he surprised you yet again with a shake of his head. “No. Actually. I want to ask you a very important question. I know that it might be a lot to ask of you but you please... Consider it at least.” Now he was worrying you. He never looked this apprehensive about you. He did have the upper hand between the two of you.
“What is it?” You asked hesitantly. You have no clue what the hell was going to come next from his mouth. You definitely didn’t expect anything.
“This might be crazy but- Shit okay, give me a second.” He grabbed onto the sides of his desk and he looked like he was trying to steady his nerves. Namjoon? Nervous? What the fuck?
“Namjoon? Hey, you’re kinda scaring me here.” You used his name. You realized that’s the first time you called for him by his name and you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt.
“I’m scaring myself too,” He let out a nervous laugh. “Okay, fine. No more stalling. What do you think of- Um- Let me ask you this way. (Y/N), would you go out with a man like me if you weren’t here?” He asked and you felt your heart drop. Is he asking you what you think he is?
“Huh?” Your voice cracked as you realized where he was leading this. “Are you… Confessing?” You asked incredulously. Just this morning, you were sure he was out to make your life a living hell for you.
“I guess this is what it is huh?” He smiled and you could see how hard he was gripping his desk by the whites of his knuckles. He sighed at your shocked expression and began to explain himself more clearly. “I know this is the most unfortunate of places to do this. Especially with your training periods coming to an end and you guys being probably sent into battle soon enough but- I wouldn’t be able to live a good life without telling you this. I like you.” he voiced it out. Your heart raced even faster as your breaths suddenly became shallow. “God, I feel so childish. What are you doing to me? I’m supposed to be harsh and commanding. Not a blabbering mess. Can you say someth-”
“I don’t get it.” You interrupted him.
He cocked his head to the side and shoots you a confused glance. “What?”
“How can you say you like me?”
“Because I do? I don’t know what you’re trying to ask me.”
“You’ve made my life hell since you found out who I really was. Do you know that? I can’t even fucking react properly right now because I’m too tired. I’m hungry because the last time I had food was yesterday night. I’m pretty sure my legs have gone through enough torment for an entire lifetime. Up until this point, I thought you hated me. That you wanted me out. How-” You harshly blinked your tears away after finally letting out your frustration with him. “You don’t like me. I just happen to be the only girl around you at the moment.”
His nervous demeanor had replaced itself with a guilt-ridden one. “Shit (Y/N) I didn’t- I didn’t know. You should've said somethin-”
“Would you have listened?” You snapped.
“Of course. I did the first time, didn’t I? You didn’t like cleaning duty so I changed it. I didn’t know this was affecting you like it was. And the only reason I’m as hard as I am on you because I need to keep suspicions away. And I’m so sorry. Fuck-” he ran his hands through his hair before kneeling down on his knees. “I didn’t mean for that. I did what I thought I had to to keep your secret safe.” He tentatively took hold of your hands in both of his. “And if it comforts you any, I felt this way about you before I knew who you really were. You really have my sexuality confused.”
“Wait- You liked me as Jae?” you asked. That was news to you. You had no idea Namjoon was interested in guys. He came off as an asshole to them. Actually, he came off as an asshole to everybody. So maybe you just had a bad read on him.
“Y-yeah. Since I’m basically coming clean right now, it would be a good idea to let you know that as well.”
You stayed quiet as you absentmindedly tightened our hold on his hand. You felt your resolve melt no matter how hard you tried to fortify it. Come to think of it, his feelings for you had always been apparent. Even that night, when he found out about you, he only found out because he came around to check if you were fine. Had he always been this blatant only for you to be this blind? “I- How are we going to do this? We’re at war Namjoon. How do we make this work?”
“We won’t be at war for much longer. The tides have shifted and even my superiors think we won’t need any more soldiers because they’re sure we’re going to win this.”
“Does- Does everyone else know this?” You asked.
He shook his head. “No. I don’t plan on telling them. I hope you can keep it a secret too. I don’t want to give them false hope.”
“Doesn’t that mean you’re giving me false hope? What if the higher-ups are wrong? What if I agree to this and we just end up going to war anyway? Would you be able to handle that? Staying here and training more troops while I’m out there?” You know you were being ruthless, but the both of you had no room to be passive about your situation. You can't deny your feelings for him that are apparent to you now. You want this so much but what if your nightmares actually come true?
“I- I’m not good with words. I’m not giving you false hope. I just want to spend all the time I can with you. And if you go, I’m following right behind you. I don’t care. I won’t stop you because I have no right to but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop myself from going wherever the hell you go. That is… If you let me…”
You have no idea where the hell you were supposed to take this. The wall you had built up against him was being chipped away with every syllable that slipped past his lips. You were trying hard to keeps them up but it was to no avail. “You’re not just saying this?” You asked, one last time. He shook his head and looked at you the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You removed one of your hands from his and placed it on his cheek. “Don’t make me regret this.” You simply whispered before leaning on to kiss him.
You didn’t expect him to taste this intoxicating though. The moment you brought your lips down to his, you felt yourself never wanting to not be able to kiss him. His free hand wrapped around the back of your neck as the other led your hand to his hair before placing itself on your waist. Your mouth went slack to let his tongue meet yours and you moaned at the feeling.
He then pulled back unceremoniously with a grin on his face. “You want us to get caught? You need to be quiet.” He teased.
You pursed your lips in amusement and scoffed. “Shut up.” You said before you pulled him in again but a voice stopped the both of you. Jin’s voice.
“Sir? We have the food. May we come in?” Jin spoke through the tent’s thin cloth covers. You were so glad that he hadn’t barged in like he usually does. Probably because you were in here and that usually meant you were either in some deep work or getting scolded.
“Oh-” Namjoon quickly stood up and rushed back to his seat. “Yeah, come in.” Jin came in with a sly Taehyung, both carrying one tray. You made eye contact with Taehyung and you knew he only came to make sure you were still alive. Jin silently set down the tray on Namjoon’s desk in front of him and Taehyung set it down for you. “Oh and don’t let anyone disturb us. We have documents to fill out for the next morning and we’re gonna be at it for a while.”
“What about the dish-”
“Jae’s on it. Don’t worry about it.” Namjoon then excused Jin and Taehyung and Taehyung was the last to leave, shooting you a questioning gaze. “Your brother is unrelenting, isn’t he? So protective.” Namjoon said, still with his eyes at the tent opening. He had a hint of admiration in his tone.
“That he is.” You weren’t going to deny the truth. “But, do we actually have documents to work on?” you asked. If there’s anything you know about him, he never liked to lie about work.
He looked at you with an amused smirk on his face. “You know me. Though, I promise you it’s not a lot. We can have the rest of the night to ourselves.” You smiled sweetly and nodded.
“Yeah alright. But I’m eating some food first. No way in hell I’m working without food in my stomach.” You were about to dig into the mouth-watering food but stopped. “Actually, come sit beside me. I would like that.”
His heart swelled at your cute request and he complied with your request, dragging his set over to your side and pulling his tray next to yours. He then suddenly leaned in to place a savory kiss on your lips and pulled back with a satisfied hum and sated smile. “I can guarantee you taste infinitely better than the food in front of us.”
#Namjoon x Reader#Kim Namjoon x Reader#RM x Reader#Kim Namjoon Scenario#Namjoon Scenario#RM Scenario#Kim Namjoon Imagine#Namjoon Imagine#RM Imagine#BTS Scenario#BTS x Reader#BTS Imagines#A lil' something before I post the reactions tomorrow#It's actually not little
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@fupmaknae honestly I didn’t think senpai would notice me but my time has come.
Rules: Answer the questions and tag 20 followers you’d like to get to know better.
Name: Ega (Ee-ga)
- fun fact it’s age spelt backwards!
Nickname: My self proclaimed nickname is, “Egg”
Gender: Female
Sex: Female
Star sign: Gemini af
Height: I’m hella short m8. I’m about 157.48 or 5 foot 2
Favorite character: Lmao I’m in so many fandoms... I keep changing lanes. My top picks have gotta be: Maka Albarn and Soul ‘Eater’ Evans from the anime Soul Eater, Noora Sætre from Skam because holy shit her and her fashion and like her brain hotdamn, Phichit from Yuri!!! on ice beCAUSE I’M TRASH, and Jinx from Teen Titans I mean c’mon girl’s got a pink/purple badass aesthetic how can you not like her????
Hogwarts house: Since I’m such a huge snake y’girl has gotta be a Slytherin
Favorite color: A super light blue, light to the point that it doesn’t look like a colour anymore. Just idk it’s calming but also vibrant (if that makes any sense lmaoooo)
Favorite animal: The least spoopy axolotl, part of their name translates to monster, but it’s so small and precious??? b l e s s
Average hours of sleep: Overall, I’d say around 4 to 6 hours but during summer break I’ll have 11 or 13 hours
Cat or dog person: Elegant cats, but friendly dogs. Tough choice. I’d rather become a cat instead of a dog, but I’d rather take care of a dog.
Number of blankets I sleep in: Usually 1, but I tend to snuggle up in 3 or 4 during the winter.
Favorite singer/band: Since I can’t choose one, I’m just gonna list a bunch: BTS, Mamamoo, All Time Low (the nostalgiaaaaaa), even though it doesn’t count the Yuri!!! on Ice soundtrack because holy smokes it’s so good?????, Renée Elise Goldsberry, and One Direction I have no shame Moments is so good fight me.
Dream trip: Just a fun time with friends, somewhere we can wake up in a beach cabin, make breakfast for everybody or have breakfast made for us. Go swimming in the sea, make s’mores over a bonfire as someone plays a guitar while the sun sets, or scream a Disney song at the top of our lungs as we run through the corridors of the cabin.
Dream job: I want to be a teacher. I’ve tutored kids before, and I just like helping people understand things? (if that makes any sense lmao how do i english.) I’d prefer teaching mathematics, just because I enjoy it.
Current number of followers: 200 on the dot. But everyday I’m becoming more and more trash, so that could change whenever.
What made you decide to join tumblr?: My friend got it and I thought it would be fun too. She’s M.I.A. now but y’know she’s still annoying me on facebook with memes.
I’d like to tag the following because y’all seem like a cool bunch: @tamalelover69, @youtubersbandssupernatural, @unideer-lulu, @pressburg, @sarasfuckingblog
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You’re My Strong Soldier
Pairing: Bucky x Reader, some OC (Alexei Petrov) for ya bc I know nothing
Warnings: Uhhhh violence, Bucky hits a child like once, BLOOD, talks of Bucky’s past, angst, not much really, this is pretty much just fluff
Summary: Reader is pregnant and is asked to stay off the missions for her own good and to work from home. Bucky comes back from a really tough mission with Steve involving some kids being captured by HYDRA and starts to question whether he’s going to be good for his kid or not.
RUSSIAN TRANSLATIONS (idk if they’re accurate, they were googled hahah):
моя принцесса = My princess
Где Вы такин' я, ребенок? = Where are you taking me, kid?
Моей семье, господину Барнсу = To my family, Mister Barnes
Настолько хороший из Вас, чтобы присоединиться к нам, Зимнему Солдату = So nice of you to join us, Winter Soldier
возлюбленный = Sweetheart
Я люблю вас так много, мою королеву = I love you so much
“I’m going now, моя принцесса.” Bucky whispers behind you as he put his warm hand on your baby bump,
“Did it have to be today?” you frown,
“I’m afraid so, doll.”
“But today’s the day we find out…” you looked at him with soft eyes, trying to understand, “I- I thought we’d have more time, that’s all.”
“I know, I know but you know how it is, sometimes we just gotta get in immediately.”
“I understand, I mean I should, I’ve only been out of the job for 5 months.” You laugh softly, looking down at your growing belly,
“I gotta get going,” he says looking down at his communication device, “I love you, doll, I’ll see you in a couple of days, okay?” you nodded and he kisses you a sweet goodbye.
That was five days ago. You should’ve been used to it because in this business you knew ‘a couple of days’ could’ve been 2 days, a week, or never and it was the never part you were afraid of. Bucky was unpredictable. No matter how long you’d both been together, whether it’d had been together as S.H.I.E.L.D’s most dangerous and notorious fighting pair or together as a couple, playing house when there was time. He was unpredictable. His every move was unpredictable. But you loved him regardless and you believed you would love him for the rest of your lives, no matter what would happen.
You were getting bigger every day and although he was with you most of the time, he was still missing out as his focus was somewhere else. He did try though. He wanted to give you all the attention and love you deserved but at the same time he wanted to take out all of the possible threats that could cross paths with his family. He knew that you were entirely capable of protecting herself and the kid but he still wanted to make your safety his priority.
Bucky’s mission with Steve and Sam was held in Russia. Some children were captured by HYDRA to create some sort of group of child soldiers or manipulators if you will. Just like Bucky, they were brainwashed and were forced to do what their capturers wanted and that was to kill. Their targets would fall for the story of the child needing help, they would then be led to an isolated zone and killed by HYDRA agents.
A child had come up to him, asking for help and he knew where this was heading.
“Steve, I’ve got one.” Bucky says through his earpiece,
“You sure you wanna do this, Buck?”
“I’m sure,” he replies, following the small child, “Где Вы такин' я, ребенок?”
“Моей семье, господину Барнсу.” They make their way to a dark, large warehouse,
“Careful, Buck.” He hears through his earpiece,
“Don’t worry about me, Cap, I’ve got th- “
“Настолько хороший из Вас, чтобы присоединиться к нам, Зимнему Солдату.” Bucky quickly recognised the voice,
“Alexei Petrov.”
“You remember, Soldier.” He laughs, his Russian accent thick against his English. Alexei was the one to give him orders the last time his brain was washed, “It’s been a long time, eh?”
“Too long.” They circled each other, tension growing, “What do you want?”
“Simple.” He stops and smirks, “To kill you.” He takes out a gun from his belt and shoots at Bucky but Bucky dodges his shots, “Just give it up, soldier! You’re going to die today!”
“Surely not.” Bucky begins to fire at Alexei, targeting his shoulder,
“That hurt, Soldier, that really, really hurt.” Suddenly the small child tries to attack him but Bucky’s reflexes tell him to slap him away and he does so. He looks at the child lying on the ground unconscious, blood dripping from his small nose.
“Did that feel good, soldier?” Alexei asks, bleeding into the cold concrete, “Did you miss being able to kill?”
“I will never miss being part of that life.” Bucky says as he kicks Alexei unconscious. Bucky grabs the handgun from his belt, points it just above Alexei’s nose, towards his forehead and pulls the trigger unsympathetically, “Never.” He looks down at his metal hand and begins to grow dizzy. The blood from the child had splattered onto his memory filled hand. The arm that had already caused so much damage to the world. The sinful arm that killed who he was ordered to kill. He starts to remember his past again.
“Buck, is it all clear?” he hears in his earpiece,
“I- There’s n-,” it takes him a second to remember where he is and why he’s there, “Yes all clear.”
“Let’s get those other kids.” Bucky picks up the small boy from before and runs, determined to finish the mission but not so excited to go home, just yet.
Back at your apartment you lay on the bed, that Bucky and yourself would usually share, alone. 9 days, 21 hours and 45 minutes, but who was counting, right? Definitely you. You missed him like crazy and you were worried, that also meant the baby could feel your worry. That was not exactly the healthiest of things, especially in your situation.
“Please come home, Buck, we’re waiting for you, please, please, please.” You pleaded to whoever was listening,
“I’m here, doll.” Like an answered prayer, you lift your head to see that it wasn’t just a wishing hallucination but the pair of blue eyes you’d been waiting to see for the last 9 days,
“Bucky!” you exclaim,
“Heya, возлюбленный.” He whispers, kissing your head,
“Your late, Buck. 7 Days late.”
“I know, doll but the mission took longer than expected, Hydra really did a number on this one.” You quickly notice that his eyes kept landing upon his metal hand,
“Bucky… Is there something you’re not telling me?” His mind had drifted once again, but this time his ocean blue eyes were filled with sorrow and disappointment. Disappointment? “James?”
“What?” he asks confusingly,
“Is everything okay?” Bucky looks at you with tear-brimmed eyes,
“I- I hit- I hit a child.” He says quietly,
“Bucky, oh, Bucky.” You catch him as he directly falls into your arms, sobbing at his confession,
“I mean; I didn’t want to but he- he- “
“Shhh, I know you didn’t mean to but it was something you had to do. I know you, Bucky Barnes, the real you. You wouldn’t hurt a fly… Unless that fly was attacking Steve Rogers.” You chuckle lightly, poking fun at the two,
“I know, Y/N but I saw the blood on my hand and everything just came crashing down.” Bucky sniffled, his head laying on your chest, “What if I hurt it?”
“Hurt what, baby? Your arm?”
“No, Y/N, t-the baby, what if it hates that it’s dad is some ex-soldier killer freak with a meta-“ you cut him off,
“Do you love me?”
“Yes! God, yes! What kind of question is that? With no doubt in my whole body, doll.”
“Good,” you smile “and I love you James Buchanan Barnes. This kid will love you because I know, with no doubt in my whole body, of course, that you will give this child everything you can and beyond.”
“You really think so, Y/N?” you nod at his question,
“I know so, you’re my strong soldier and you’ll fight for us, always, I know it.” His tense look begins to relax, “You know just how much I love that arm, don’t you, Buck?” you smirk, filling images into his head.
“You’re pregnant, stop it.”
“So? We won’t hurt the baby.” You explain, voice slick with cruel intentions,
“Y/N, let’s have a nap.” He suggests, laughing,
“I’m not saying no to that, I’ve gotten no sleep without you, Bucky.”
“That’s not exactly healthy for my baby.” Concern surrounding his tone.
He wraps his arm around you as you both lay on your sides, spooning. The warmth of Bucky’s body made you feel safe, he was home and now, you felt at home. Home felt warm, home wasn’t empty without the presence of its missing member. Home was love. Love with James Barnes.
“I hope he has your eyes.” You whisper,
“I love your nose and your lips, I hope it-“ his eyes widen at sudden realisation, catching on to what you’d just revealed, he lifts himself up as you turn to face him, “what did you just say?”
“Do you think he’ll find what you and Steve have?” you grinned at him as his eyes were once again brimmed with tears but this time they were tears of happiness, “I mean best friend wis-“
“Holy shit, we’re having a- a-“ you nod at his excitement,
“Yes we are.” He kisses you deeply, cherishing the moment you had both shared.
“Я люблю вас так много, мою королеву.”
A/N: THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!! Make sure you request some stuff, ask questions and give me some feedback here! THIS IS MY MASTERLIST MY LIL BOOKWORMS <3
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky x reader smut#bucky x reader fluff#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#mcu oneshot#tony x reader#tony starx x reader#robert downey jr#Scarlett Johansson#black widow x reader#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#steve rogers x reader#steve x reader#chris evans#hulk x reader#bruce banner x reader#pietro maximoff x reader#pietro x reader#quicksilver x reader#hawkeye x reader#clint barton x reader#thor#thor x reader#captain america x reader#captain americca
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BnHA Chapter 127: Sir Nighteye
Previously on BnHA: Aizawa announced that the freshman students would be permitted to take on internships. Deku asked All Might to introduce him to his former sidekick Sir Nighteye. At first All Might declined, but then he had a change of heart after seeing Deku’s determination. He ended up asking Mirio (who’s been interning with Nighteye for the past year) to introduce Deku for him. Mirio agreed because he is a pal, and come the weekend, Deku accompanied him to Nighteye’s office. Mirio warned Deku that Nighteye values humor very highly, and if Deku couldn’t make him laugh, he’d probably be sent home in vain. Deku greeted Nighteye and made the weirdest fucking face I’ve ever seen. Times like this, it’s hard to believe this is the same series that was hitting us with that intense character development a mere five chapters ago, not to mention straight up blowing people to splattery bits two chapters ago omg.
Today on BnHA: Nighteye chews Deku out for getting the wrinkles wrong on his All Might impression. Deku activates his Quirk of Being a Giant Nerd and informs Nighteye that actually, his impression is based on a specific incident in which All Might made a particularly weird face. His gatekeeping attempt foiled, Nighteye begrudgingly agrees to test Deku. He says he’ll give him three minutes to take Nighteye’s hanko stamp from his hands and use it to stamp his internship form. This is much more difficult than it sounds, since it turns out that Nighteye’s quirk, Foresight, lets him see into the fucking future. Since he can see all of Deku’s attacks before they happen, Deku quickly finds himself in a pickle. Nighteye says that Mirio should have inherited OFA, and that Deku isn’t worthy. Our little green boy takes some issue with this, seeing as he was acknowledged by All Might himself. He powers up again, determined to show Nighteye just how worthy he is.
(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 155 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)
are you even a megane character if you don’t use your middle finger to flip people off when adjusting your glasses
although to be fair, he has the rest of his fingers all splayed out. clearly he is still undecided as to whether he actually likes Deku or not
fucking look at this title
“shit, we didn’t come up with a title for this one.” “well who’s it about?” “um, these four characters.” “okay just put all four of their full fucking names then”
so he’s towering over Deku, who fully believes that he’s about to die
he fucking loves it, Deku. YOU GOT GUTS, KID!!
wow he’s grabbing Deku’s face and saying All Might doesn’t have a wrinkle on his right side, unlike the face Deku is making
holy shit
nevermind he doesn’t love it
jesus christ. EVEN THE UNLICENSED MERCH, DEKU. FUCKING GET IT RIGHT!!
now Deku’s looking around Nighteye’s office while the man in question continues to aggressively jab his fingers all over his face
he’s jealous of all of Nighteye’s All Might swag
Nighteye says he is “quite displeased” and is telling Deku to leave
what in the
sure. who doesn’t. that’s when all the vinegar just. fuckin’ killed itself
holy shit
OH SNAP. HE FUCKING NAILED IT AFTER ALL
Deku says it’s one of his less popular incidents, but he really likes it
mainly because of All Might’s terrible dad jokes
holy shit I love All Might so fucking much
by the way can you imagine if a river just fucking turned into fucking vinegar all of a sudden. like, did the kid change it back afterward? how much of it was actually changed? someone else is walking along further downstream and they’re all like, “...do you smell something? ...did this river go bad?”
also there’s no suicide in this story. how misleading
now Nighteye’s getting offended and asking Deku if he’s testing him
but Deku says he just got a little hyped up remembering the story
Mirio and Bubble Girl are just watching like, “...”
Mirio’s impressed with how Deku turned the situation around even though he didn’t actually get Nighteye to laugh
so now Nighteye’s sitting down and looking as though he’s considering it
Deku’s all “PLEASE TAKE ME!!! HERE’S THE CONTRACT OMG”
but Nighteye hasn’t quite made up his mind yet whether or not to take him
Nighteye’s laying out all the details of the internship and how tough it is
the internship will last at least a month -- although it’s paid, hell yeah Deku, nice -- and Deku will need to take lots of time off from his lessons at U.A. and he’ll likely have trouble keeping up with his course workload and would risk falling behind his classmates
but Deku has made him his mind on this for sure. he’s not afraid of the extra work
aaaaaand Nighteye is stamping the contract
wait a sec
uh oh
(ETA: how could I have just skipped right over Deku’s reaction without commenting on it omg
fucking flawless comedic timing. who says this kid has no sense of humor)
lol Nighteye says he has no intention of stamping it
Deku, grab his arm real quick and just... he’s right there! you can do it. he’s so skinny. just overpower him
oh shit
what the fuck is wrong with his neck
also, so Mirio’s already considered a sidekick then? you go, Mirio
(ETA: actually, Mangastream has the correct translation here: “this office already gets along fine with two sidekicks and one student intern.” it’s just that at this point we hadn’t yet been introduced to Nighteye’s other horrifying sidekick)
he’s asking Deku what he has to contribute to society. if he wants his acknowledgement then Deku has to show him
of course there’s no need to sum up everything All Might himself had to contribute. nothing to see here, just a single man who transformed the entire world for the better and gave it hope. yep yep
anyway, so Nighteye is again asking him what advantages he can offer his agency. and he says he’d appreciate if he showed him with actions rather than words
well this is tricky. what does Deku have going for him. well his winning attitude and good heart and big hero brain of course. and also a little ol’ thing called One for All, but that part is of course a secret
oh my god
lmao are you serious. yes, exactly. GO FOR IT DEKU, STAMP THAT SHIT YOURSELF
he says he’s giving Deku a rare chance even though he doesn’t have the slightest shred of humor
“am I not merciful” jesus
now he’s telling Mirio and Bubble Girl to skedaddle
well, Deku managed to graze Gran Torino within three minutes his very first time using full cowl. and he’s the guy who trained All Might. Nighteye is just his fucking sidekick. DEKU YOU GOT THIS BRO
Bubble’s asking if Mirio had to pass a test like this when he first started
he says he didn’t, since Nighteye chose him personally. I guess U.A. must have given him the same pitch they gave All Might about how great Mirio is
in both the FA translation and the Mangastream translation, Bubble uses the word “jelly”, and for some irrational reason it’s really making me cringe
so jelly
(ETA: honestly though, Nighteye really does love Mirio. initially it’s framed as just Mirio being his protege and the one he believes is most deserving to inherit OFA, but over the course of the arc it becomes clear he cares about him much more deeply than that. actually, a good deal of Nighteye’s character development is just us gradually learning that he cares a fuckton more than he initially lets on. I have a lot of Nighteye feels. someone sent me an ask about him yesterday, so I’ll post that soon)
Mirio’s thinking to himself that it doesn’t look good for Deku, though
“against Sir’s quirk, accomplishing those conditions is virtually impossible”
well then Sir “All Might’s fucking sidekick” Nighteye, what the fuck is your quirk, then. consider me suitably hyped by this point
Nighteye says he won’t attack Deku, and he doesn’t care what Deku does, even if he damages the room
okay for real though, just how badass is this dude. what rank is he. is he the number three guy at long last? they’re sure making him out to be at that level
(ETA: are we going to get Nighteye’s actual hero ranking at any point? will they mention it in his fucking obituary maybe)
Deku’s powering up full cowl. I hope he went straight to 8%
he’s charging straight at him. Nighteye seems to think it’s a feint
yep he’s right
“you’ll follow with another attack” hoooooooly shit IS HE A PRECOG. IS THAT HIS QUIRK. FUCKING KATAKIRI OMG
although to be fair, literally any asshole could have told you Deku was going to follow up with another attack lmao. “nah, actually that’s it. one and done. I give up now”
imagine if this really is the number three hero. oh Kacchan, I heard you interned with number four, so naturally I went and convinced the number three guy to take me :)
(ETA: and yeah I’m aware that since All Might’s retired, all of the rankings have been bumped up, but I still think of them in terms of their previous rankings for some reason. anyways, you know what I mean)
not that Katsuki would have been able to tolerate this guy for more than thirty seconds
“I see everything.” yeah, I’m pretty sure. either that or he’s got 360 degree vision or some shit
but I really hope it’s precognition. I have a mental list of quirks we haven’t seen yet that I’m anticipating and this is one of them. (I also really want to see mind-reading and truth serum quirks. and an illusionist quirk, because I need one of these villains to play some damn mind games one of these days)
(ETA: WE GOT THE TRUTH SERUM QUIRK AND THEY TOTALLY WASTED IT. I’M SO MAD)
Deku’s thinking to try and beat Nighteye’s quirk by overwhelming him with a bunch of attacks
yesssssss!
(ETA: later on we learn that he can only use this quirk once every 24 hours. that’s a pretty big deal, because it means he took this decision so seriously that he decided to use it on Deku. if he’d ended up needing to use it for something else (say, something related to actual crime-fighting) later on he’d have been SOL.
also, Nighteye is a great example of the advantage a hero has when the details of their quirk aren’t widely publicized for the world to see. and he also proves that it’s more than possible to keep them under wraps even after years of hero work. just saying, U.A. maybe it’s not the most rational thing in the world to deprive your kids of that advantage right from the get go simply because you assume it’ll happen eventually)
so now Deku’s straining to figure out a way to get around his quirk
I would think speed alone would still be able to do it. if you’re fast enough it shouldn’t matter whether the opponent knows the punch is coming or not. but I expect Nighteye is likely faster than Deku though since Deku’s still inexperienced
is there any way to confuse him if someone has a lot of potential “courses of action” and all of them have a near-equal likelihood?
anyway let’s see what he actually does end up doing lol
Nighteye says he was wondering what kind of person Deku was, and that he had high expectations
but he says Deku is mediocre
wow
starting to get an inkling that the guy who can predict the future has gotten a little too used to being right all the time
you really think you know better than All Might on this one, huh. okay
also, exactly how many people know about One for All for real though?? the list just keeps expanding
so Deku’s really surprised. that’s right, he wasn’t aware Mirio had been the original candidate
Nighteye says he respects All Might, but they didn’t see eye to eye when it came to his successor
why do you think you should have had a say in it to begin with?
I guess All Might probably confided in a few people and asked for advice and recommendations though
oh dang
(ETA: All Might does a lot of not telling Deku things. he is the Obi-Wan of this series after all)
I don’t know if I’m ready for Deku to have a crisis of confidence so soon after Kacchan’s. I hope this doesn’t rattle him too much
he asked All Might back at the sports festival if he wanted someone else, and All Might told him in no uncertain terms he was the one, so. hope he remembers that
so Nighteye’s reminding him that the clock’s still ticking down while he’s just standing there thinking
he’s being a real asshole! :)
NOT ACCORDING TO THE GOAT ALL MIGHT THERE ISN’T
I mean, not to compare All Might to Lord Voldemort lol, but it’s kinda the same thing. having heard a prophecy that could have applied to two different children, Voldemort went with the child most similar to him, rather than the pureblood. All Might also had his choice of successors. Mirio is amazing and would have definitely been worthy. but in the end, All Might chose the boy who was born quirkless just like him. just because he started from further down doesn’t mean his ceiling is lower than anyone else’s, and in fact it may just be the highest of them all
oh good. Deku’s getting fired up
good Deku
“All Might... chose me!” yessssssssss omg. bring it!
“he’s not the kind of kid who’s so used to rejection anymore!” omfg. now they’re trying to get me fired up. and it’s working oh damn
BONUS:
it is pretty sweet how he went out of his way to make sure she got a decent amount of screentime and not just some one-time background role
but like, he can’t pretend her costume design wasn’t 100% the reason he picked her, and tbh it kind of skeeves me out. anywayy
#bnha#boku no hero academia#midoriya izuku#sir nighteye#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#makeste reads bnha#you know#considering all the bs deku is about to go through in this arc#you're damn right he better be getting paid#to hell with stain's philosophy#give my boy his cash money#he sure as hell earned it
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Favorite Movies 2016
Ah, 2016. Honestly, the less said about it, the better. But I’m a sucker for making lists and I think I’ll always have a compulsivity to make my top ten movies list of the year until the day cinema ends (which will hopefully be never). This wasn’t a particularly great year for film; there was a lot of “okay,” plenty of “meh,” but not too much “holy effing shit where’s the bottom of my jaw?!” However, there thankfully were ten movies that tickled my fancy. They are:
10. MIDNIGHT SPECIAL--This one surprised me. It lacks a true heart, or the heart keeps bouncing around between different characters while never fully latching on, but I still found myself enthralled. The way little bits are revealed here and there always felt natural and smooth, never forced. Jeff Nichols is skilled in nuance, which has been hit or miss for me with his past work. This is the first time I really got what he was going for. Now he just needs to inject some heart into his stories and he’ll be a master (I’m hoping Loving accomplishes this).
9. THE NICE GUYS--While it’s no Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, it’s still a worthy entry into the buddy cop mystery movie. Russell Crowe and Ryan Gosling’s chemistry sparkles. The dialogue is original and hilarious. There’s a star turn from young Angourie Rice. It kind of devolves into standard shootout flare by the end, but the journey up to that point was pure entertainment.
8. MANCHESTER BY THE SEA--Though I wish I was more emotionally affected by this film, it’s still a very well done and well acted take on grief. It’s one of those movies where not a lot really happens, but everything happens. Casey Affleck, Michelle Williams and Lucas Hedges are all amazing, and the dialogue is some of the most realistically funny writing I’ve seen uttered on screen in a long time.
7. CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR--I think this is the most thematically resonant entry into the Marvel Cinematic Universe, especially in this sudden era of fake news. We believe the story with which we’re being presented, even when we don’t have all the facts. It’s about perspective. When it comes to clashing perspectives, communication is key; having a dialogue about issues insures a healthy debate and hopefully a satisfying compromise. When it’s superheroes having the debate, though, dialogue is tough and everyone ends up brawling at an airport hangar. Don’t forget this is popcorn fodder, but it was my favorite popcorn fodder of the year.
6. KUBO & THE TWO STRINGS--a visually astounding work of art. Watching this film just gave me a sense of joy that other animated films didn’t give me this year (I’m looking at you, Finding Dory, you and your pointlessness). This is a tale about a storyteller who finds himself in one of his own stories, becoming the hero he never knew he was born to be. A lot of it is silly, but most of it is fun, and all of it is beautiful.
5. THE WITCH--Funny story, I went to go see this a week or two after it came out with my friend, Sean, but we only stayed in the theater for about thirty minutes because of the worst film audience I’d ever experienced. Someone behind us was translating the whole film to his friend from English to Spanish, a mentally disabled man in front of us kept laughing at inappropriate times and shaking his head violently back and forth, and overall, your run-of-the-mill talking and cell phone usage from everyone else. Months later, I watched the movie on Amazon, and it was great. The end.
4. ARRIVAL--The thinking person’s alien invasion movie. This doesn’t have to rely on special effects or big action. This is a story about understanding one another that just happens to have aliens and special effects in it. Amy Adams gives an understated performance as a linguist caught in the middle of a mystery that almost everyone else sees as having a cut-and-dry solution. Jeremy Renner and Forrest Whitaker are just kind of there, but who cares? This is Adams’ story. A story of her character understanding her past, present, future, and herself. And it has aliens.
3. MOONLIGHT--So rarely does a movie come along that feels so un-Hollywood. Something that just comes off as HUMAN and never becomes melodramatic or dull. Moonlight pulls it off in strides. The story of a boy, then an adolescent, and then a man, and what it means to be all of them, sometimes all at once (I guess that only really applies for the last one, but it’s still there). Chrion is a character caught in the middle of too many worlds and I felt his uncertainty as he does his best to explore who he really is. Never exploitative, always real, Moonlight is kind of amazing.
2. LA LA LAND--This movie should not have been as remarkable as it is. It’s a fairly standard story, it’s a cheesy musical, and it’s not based on any preexisting material, which in this day and age, we know is a big no-no *barfs and dies*. But somehow, everything in this movie is near perfection. The songs: catchy and wondrous. The direction: Damien Chazelle, you are a god among insects. The performances: nothing flashy from Emma Stone or Ryan Gosling here, but I believed everything they did, including breaking into song and dance. All at once, La La Land is a tribute to classic cinema, a glimpse into where cinema is heading, and a time-honored tale of pursuing your dreams and the sacrifices that come along with that pursuit.
1. A MONSTER CALLS--This happens every year: my two favorite movies come down to what affects me emotionally and what wows me with its sheer filmmaking prowess. And like every year, the emotional film takes the cake. A Monster Calls caused me to suppress literal howls in a crowded theater, and I know I’m not the only one who experienced such a sensation. Ugly, ugly tears, and I’m grateful for every single one. Even if you haven’t experienced the tragic loss of a loved one, A Monster Calls is incredibly effective thanks to its beautiful performances from Felicity Jones, Sigourney Weaver and young stand-out Lewis MacDougall. It hooked me, reeled me in, and continues to squeeze me tightly in a comforting embrace (you know, like you usually do with fish). That’s why it’s my favorite film of the year.
Movies I didn’t manage to see in time: Silence, Sing Street, Hell or High Water, 20th Century Women, The Founder, Hunt For the Wilderpeople.
Favorite performances of the year: Hailee Steinfeld in The Edge of Seventeen, Aaron Taylor-Johnson in Nocturnal Animals, Lucas Hedges in Manchester By the Sea, Emma Stone in La La Land, Dan Fogler in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
Special Jury Prize: Paint It Black. I’m not sure when this will get an official release, but I saw it at the Mill Valley Film Festival and it’s a disturbing treat.
Now for five movies that kind of stunk. Well, more than kind of. A few of them burned my sinuses away.
-1. X-MEN: APOCALYPSE--Out of the near two and a half hour runtime, I’d say there’s barely ninety minutes of actual story here. The rest is plodding, (not very good) effects-driven schlock and fan service. It lacks purpose; it’s just sort of there.
-2. THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN--Hitchcock you are not. Even Gone Girl you are not. Shit, you’re barely Hollywood Homicide (how’s that for a reference?).
-3. BATMAN V. SUPERMAN: DAWN OF JUSTICE--Can anyone tell me what this movie was about besides franchise building? No? Moving on then.
-4. SUICIDE SQUAD--Is this film the perfect example of A) studios interfering with a director’s vision, B) a film believing it can get by on massive hype while remaining limp and unnecessary, or C) just pure dumbness? I’ll go with D) all of the above.
-5. INDEPENDENCE DAY: RESURGENCE--I’ll quote from my review from last summer because I don’t want to waste any more brain power coming up with new ways to shit on this piece of shit: “...a slapdash string of CGI vomit, shoehorned references to the first film for nostalgia’s sake, and not a lick of emotional depth whatsoever.” So. Fucking. Worthless.
Please be good, 2017. Pretty please. All the cherries on top.
#film#movies#movie review#everyone's a critic#top ten movies#top ten movies 2016#2016#2016 in film#top ten lists#midnight special#jeff nichols#the nice guys#manchester by the sea#lucas hedges#captain america: civil war#kubo and the two strings#the witch#arrival#amy adams#moonlight#la la land#damien chazelle#ryan gosling#emma stone#a monster calls#x-men: apocalypse#the girl on the train#batman vs superman: dawn of justice#suicide squad#independence day: resurgence
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