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breathlesswinds · 22 days

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(Devlog) What We Learned Making A Trans Dating Game

Hello, Amelia here, the writer for Breathless Winds. It's been 250,000+ words, countless revisions, and three years since this game entered development, and I wanted to talk about what I've learned leading up to release.

The concept for Breathless Winds was actually sort of a joke between friends. I was talking with Doris about how there should be a dating game where you play as a trans woman and your dating options revolve around certain ‘tropes’ we’d both seen in trans fiction-- the totally accepting cishet guy who falls in love with the trans heroine before she even knows she’s a woman, the cool trans woman who the heroine doesn’t know if she wants to date or wants to be, and so on.

Doris wound up suggesting we make this game ourselves. We both like visual novels and want to tell LGBT stories. Still half-jokingly and half-seriously, we started fleshing out what the romance options would be and coming up with a setting-- and soon, we were fully committed to making this game real.

I was a fan of visual novels but had only ever written prose. I knew which visual novels I liked and which scenes stood out, but I didn’t know why they did or how to make my own.

I read some great advice from visual novel developers, but a good amount of my knowledge came from just working on Breathless Winds. As our first project, this game has grown a lot with us and we’ve learned a lot while making it.

Learning How to Write Visual Novels

A bad habit I had to break out of was only using the ‘novel’ part of the game and not the ‘visual’ part. I would sometimes write “He smiled” or lines like that, and Doris informed me that we can convey this much more simply with a sprite change.

It sounds obvious in retrospect, but lines like that are often pretty invisible when you’re reading a non-visual novel. These lines change the sprite of the character inside your head (if that makes sense, haha). I realized that I’m so used to them being ‘invisible’ that I didn’t notice their absence in visual novels I liked, so I would accidentally include them while writing.

I was also writing these routes in a word processor, so I didn’t have the visual portion to reference, myself. I wound up making a lot of ‘tone’ notes like, “Lantana should be smug here” so that the meaning would carry when revising and implementing these into Ren’py.

So, while visual novels share a lot with prose, they’re an entirely different medium. On the subject of representing things visually, I’ve struggled trying to figure out how much can be visually represented and how much should be written.

Every asset in the game has to be drawn by Doris, so if I want the characters to go to a new location for a scene, I have to keep in mind that’s another background that Doris has to draw. If I want a new character to show up, that’s another sprite she has to draw. I don’t want to overload her, but if I’m trying to avoid this entirely, characters sometimes wind up standing in one room talking for ages without anything significant changing on-screen.

I’ve learned that it’s recommended for something to almost always be changing on-screen, though, so sometimes I just have to ask Doris to make a new asset for a certain scene. I still try to stick to locations/characters that already exist more often than not.

Every single thing in a visual novel is deliberate. Another thing I’ve had to learn that I never even considered before is how to write each line so it fits in the text box. It sounds obvious, but when I’m playing a visual novel, I don’t usually think about how each line has to be carefully constructed so it doesn’t need to be split up into two or more text boxes. In my mind, if a visual novel is well-created, there’s not much that breaks a reader’s immersion.

Planning & Outlining

The previous section might sound really weird to some people, so let me elaborate. I’m a lifelong ‘write by the seat of your pants’-er, so the biggest trial-and-error of creating Breathless Winds for me was planning out the game.

Initially, I created outlines for each of the four routes, and we agreed ahead of time on which CGs each route would have. That way, Doris could draw the necessary backgrounds and CGs while I was in the long process of drafting this game. My original outlines weren’t great. I know a lot of people have different experiences with writing, but for me personally, a story is always shaping itself in my mind. When I started making the outlines for Breathless Winds, I knew the concepts we wanted to convey, but I didn’t know what each route (and the game as a whole) was really about yet. This might sound weird and unprofessional, but sometimes, I don’t know what a story is about until I finish the first draft.

So while I was writing, I would look at my outlines and I would think, “this doesn’t actually make sense, he wouldn’t say that” or “this plot point would work better if moved to this other section” or “there’s a plot hole here I didn’t notice”. The story wound up changing a lot in this way as I learned what it’s really ‘about’.

And even after I finished the first draft, I’d get feedback from Doris and/or my editor and they would suggest fixes to problems that even I hadn’t noticed, and then I would revise the route some more, and later on I’d come back and need to redo part of the route to comply with something I wrote in a later route-- I haven’t really felt ‘finished’ with Breathless Winds at any point, and I think I’ll still feel this way after the game is released.

This means that sometimes, a background was created but would go unused because there was no space for the scene that would use it, or we’d need a new CG last-minute, or so on.

When I’m figuring things out as I go while writing a non-VN, the only person that I can adversely affect is my own self… so I’m eternally grateful for all of Doris’s patience with me on this matter. I think Breathless Winds has come out a much better game for all the re-plotting and revision.

I redid the outlines several times as I went. I think I’ve understood how to create outlines that personally work for me-- ‘living’ outlines that hit all the main points, but leave wiggle room for moments when a character does something unexpected, work the best for me.

Scope Creep

So, originally, each route was meant to be 40,000 words. “With four routes, that’s only 160,000 words!” I thought. “And some of my favorite visual novels are about that long, so I can write that much, too!” ← clueless

This is the most infamous mistake that new creators make, and I walked right into it. I should have known better since I’ve bitten off more than I can chew with past non-VN writing projects before, but I was starry-eyed and didn’t realize how much work it is to make a VN. Some of those favorite visual novels I referenced were made by much larger teams, writers whose full-time job was writing (I wrote all of these routes on the side while working at a day job).

If I could have done it again, I would have asked Doris to start out with a really short VN. But, I don’t regret making Breathless Winds at all. It’s brought Doris and I a lot closer, for one. Every time I thought I wanted to give up on this, Doris would motivate me to continue. Without the two of us both and our strong friendship, Breathless Winds wouldn’t exist, and I think that’s beautiful.

No matter what, we’re going to see it through to the end. (I hope people like it, though…)

Anyway, here I am talking about how much 40,000 words is. Each route now is about 60k to 70k words. The problem with having evolving outlines is that they can often evolve into double their original size.

We came up with the idea of the poachers really early in development, and then not addressing the poachers felt like a failing, but by that point it was too late to remove the poachers entirely… and so the game wound up a lot longer dealing with the poachers.

I think that if we had an editor sooner on in the game’s development, then we might have had someone to tell us, “do you really need all of this in the game? Does this plot point really need to be there? Will you be able to write all of this in a reasonable amount of time?”, haha. But Doris and I were really excited about the possibilities of this game when we started creating it, and without anyone to reel us back in, we wound up coming up with more and more things we wanted to put in the game.

Did you know there was going to be an island full of talking rats who say things like “the big cheese” and stuff all the time in Breathless Winds? Yeah.

The Core Design Philosophy of Breathless Winds

So, for anyone who’s read this far but doesn’t know yet-- the premise of Breathless Winds is that you play as a trans woman who doesn’t know she’s trans yet, and she finds love with one of four love interests as she discovers her gender identity.

In real life, it can be a lot messier for a person to date when discovering their gender identity. To put it briefly and mildly, a trans person’s life and sense of personal identity can rapidly change during a gender crisis and the early stages of transition.

However, we wanted to make this game a ‘wish-fulfillment’ type story-- a trans fantasy about acceptance, community, and love. During a gender crisis, it can be easy to feel as if one has lost touch with themselves and become isolated from others. A sincere wish shared by many trans people is to be accepted, loved, and even celebrated as their true gender, not just tolerated.

Since many trans people don’t get love and acceptance in real life, especially with the ongoing transphobic moral panic, we wanted to create a game that would bring this feeling of trans joy and celebration to trans audiences.

We also hope that cis players will still enjoy the story and characters, and maybe come away from the game with a new understanding about being transgender and other aspects of LGBT identity (although we never intended this game to be ‘educational’).

Making Characters that Celebrate Trans Identity

Although we went through several revisions, the core identities of each character stayed the same since the game was first ‘jokingly’ pitched. In another post, I discussed how each character is themed around a change in seasons. (I also wound up theming them around the four humors when I was initially concepting them-- I really wanted to avoid too much ‘overlap’ in the LI’s personalities, haha).

Ultimately, characters are created to serve a role. The LIs in Breathless Winds were designed to be love interests, of course-- characters who would appeal to the hypothetical trans femme audience. As mentioned earlier, we modeled them after other trans fiction tropes because these types of characters have a certain tried-and-true appeal, but this left plenty of flexibility to put our own spin on it.

A trans woman being loved as a woman by a cishet guy can feel like a high form of ‘passing’, ‘fitting in’ to the female gender role, and being validated by his orientation. He only likes women, and he likes you, so you’re undoubtedly a woman. As a cishet guy, he represents a sort of acceptance into a societal norm that trans women can desire to live to. (Lantana, as a cis lesbian, represents the sapphic counterpoint to this-- although there is of course a big gap between the ‘normalcy’ of a cishet man and a cis lesbian woman, and I don’t mean to say those two are equivalent.)

But not all trans women want to live to that (cis) societal norm. Rue and Valerian, as a trans woman and a trans man respectively, are the t4t options.

Rue’s route represents that trans/sapphic ‘envy’ (“do I want her or do I want to be her?”) as well as finding power in community aside from what society considers ‘normal’. We’ve always been pretty clear about what we wanted to do with Rue’s route.

We went back and forth a lot more on Valerian’s route. Initially, we were unsure if he should be trans. He and Rue are the two less-friendly love interests (at least initially), so I was afraid it would come across that t4t is a more hostile option, which is not true at all. But it also felt like a mistake to not have a trans man in the game-- but making Gallardia trans would have required a big overhaul of what we had in mind for him and his route. (Although, childhood friends t4t is a really good idea...)

Beyond that, Valerian takes a villainous role in any route that isn't his own. We were worried that it would be wrong to have a trans antagonist who represents unjust power. However, Breathless Winds is a queer game with other positive trans characters, and we've always approached Valerian as a hot anti-villain man that you can't help but like.

In the end, Valerian’s route is about breaking generational cycles and what it is that makes you a man, and I also managed to sneak in a scene where they dance at a ball in the royal palace, so in the end I think it all worked out great.

Wish Fulfillment and Catharsis

Doris and I both agreed that we wouldn’t depict on-screen transphobia in Breathless Winds. Poppy worries about not being accepted, but fear of acceptance can come with any change in identity. Rue was rejected by her family for being trans, but this doesn’t take place ‘on screen’ in the game. There exist certain metaphorical parallels for transness and transphobia, but every route has a happy ending.

Following up on this-- it can be difficult to write about discovery of gender identity without writing about transphobia, considering how many trans people suffer from internalized transphobia during their period of repression.

Sometimes, repressed/closeted transgender people ‘hyper-perform’ their assigned gender as a form of denial. A trans woman might grow out a beard and join a gym, while a trans man might become very interested in makeup and feminine clothing.

In Breathless Winds, Poppy often struggles with ‘strength’ and what it means to be a man. In several routes, she tries to prove her strength under the assumption that being stronger would make her happy. Afraid the world would reject her if she became who she really is, she preemptively rejects herself.

Not every trans person suffers from prolonged denial, internalized transphobia, or even gender dysphoria. I don’t think it’s impossible to tell a purely-positive story about trans joy.

While Poppy never gets rejected for being trans, faces transphobia, gets called a slur, etc, she faces both internal and external (metaphorical) obstacles to realizing and accepting her identity.

Gallardia represents a societal norm that Poppy can’t live up to herself as a man.

Lantana suffers from certain aspects of her identity as a woman, which makes Poppy feel guilt for wanting to be a girl.

Rue is isolated from town at the start of her route, a ‘punishment’ for breaking this societal norm.

Valerian has to hyper-conform to his masculine gender role at first in toxic ways before finding acceptance from within and from his loved ones.

These struggles are real to a lot of people, but instead of pretending they don’t exist, I hoped to tell a story about catharsis. Poppy is able to live up to her truth as a woman and finds love with Gallardia, Poppy and Lantana redefine what being a woman should and does mean to them, Rue and Poppy find community in others who don’t fit the norm, Poppy and Valerian stop seeking gender validation from a society that was never made to serve them.

Although these powerful forces of oppression exist, loving yourself as a trans person- and loving those around you, protecting the natural world, and standing up for what you believe in- can save the day. That’s the kind of story we wanted to tell.

Wrap-up

There’s a lot more I could write, but this has already gotten really long (sorry!) so I’ll wrap it up here.

Learning how to write a visual novel in terms of technical skill (how to depict events on-screen, how long each line should be) as well as in terms of writing skill (how to outline the game, how to plan visual assets) has been a massive undertaking for me.

Writing Breathless Winds has been a big challenge but also deeply rewarding, and all of your support has made the experience even more wonderful. Thank you for reading and thank you for supporting the game!

#visual novel #otome #dating sim #amare #trans #lgbt #breathless winds

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lowgothree · 2 months

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001. ༺...OR JUST LOOK LIKE ONE༻∘

summary: after getting unexpectedly left by your roommate, you find yourself in need of a replacement.

contents: reader is down bad. paige in a situationship. kinda angsty.

previous. next. masterlist.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

the apartment is a lot quieter without tina. she made a lot of noise. you could still vaguely hear her terrible singing as she’d shower, cook, or clean; how she’d wake up early in the morning to make elbarote breakfasts that caused pots and pans to fall…very often; and the fact that she’d watch anything on her phone at max volume.

in retrospect, she was kind of annoying.

but she was nice and you lived with her for almost a year. you’d gotten so used to her.

but now, it’s quiet. and the only thoughts you had were thoughts of not being able to afford rent next month. luckily, sean, your best friend knows basically everyone on campus and kindly agreed to ask around for you.

you’re in your car after stopping to get fast food. you shove a few fries in your month as sean shuffles through his phone to show his instagram conversation with a potential roommate for you.

“okay, so…” sean shoves his phone in your face. “this…is ellie. she’s looking for a roommate and –– ”

“i slept with her…” you mumble after seeing the username. “didn’t end so well…”

“damn…okay, next.” he swipes through his phone again. “okay…this is emily. she’s a straight a student and wants to know if you’re okay with pets?”

you hum. “what kind of pet?”

“um…let’s see.” he shuffles through the text conversation and chuckles. “oh, a twelve inch snake?”

“no thank you…”

“aw, really? it’s kinda cute actually…”

“nope.”

“okay, next candidate.” he takes a big bite of his burger, chews for a while then takes a sip of his drink before he slides through his phone again. “alright, we have paige…it seems like she’s coming from a similar situation to you. roommate kicked her out after getting married at 19…yikes.”

you peer over at his phone. “give her my number…”

“already trying to sleep with her too?” sean snorts and you roll your eyes.

“so that i can text her about the place, idiot.”

“oh, yeah…” he taps on his phone a few more times and then you feel your phone vibrate.

FROM: PAIGE

i got ur number from sean

you’re looking for a roommate?

TO: PAIGE

yes!!

just have a few questions first

FROM: PAIGE

like what?

TO: PAIGE

do u smoke?

or own a ten inch snake?

and do u wash ur dishes?

FROM: PAIGE

nope

no??

yes

TO: PAIGE

*address*

are you able to come over tomorrow?

FROM: PAIGE

yes

what time?

TO: PAIGE

whatever works

FROM: PAIGE

i’ll come over around 12:30 then?

you smile at sean, relaxing for the first time since tina moved out. “thank you so much, sean. seriously.”

“hey, i would’ve let you stay with me but i live in a tiny ass dorm so…” he chuckles. “besides, if you became homeless, where am i supposed to go when my roommate need the room to fuck his boyfriend?”

you snicker. “good point. is it really that bad, though?”

“they’re like feral rabbits…” he mutters.

the next day, you hear a knock at the door at 12:27. she’s punctual, that’s a good sign. you open the door, breath catching in your throat when you see her. she smiled at you and you died a little.

damn, why didn’t sean tell you that she looked like that?

she’s tall, definitely athletic by build, pretty eyes, and a warm smile. you’re fucked.

“hey, i’m paige.” she holds her hand out for you to shake and you have to physically refrain from shuddering. hello, paige. her voice…welcoming and warm, you hand to clear your throat to stop yourself from screaming.

it’s a great terrible idea to fuck your roomate. you remind yourself over and over again as you take her hand, tell her your name which she already knew, and invite her into your apartment.

“nice place…” she steps inside cautiously.

“thanks.” you stop yourself from checking her out any longer, not wanting to be creepy. stop being fucking creepy.

she looks around, you’d just finished cleaning.

“so you’re an athlete?” you clear your throat, trying to politely strike up conversation.

“yeah, basketball.”

you internally groan at the slight smile she gives you when she answers your question.

“that’s –– ” hot. “cool.”

she nods, turning to face you. “so is there anything i should know before i agree to move in?”

“oh…well, my best friend sean comes over sometimes. he sleeps on the couch occasionally but he’s really clean and respectful.” she nods, not looking bothered by that information. “and, um…i’m gay if that sort of thing bothers you…”

she snickers, shaking her head to herself. “doesn’t bother me at all…”

“oh? are you…?” “yeah.”

damnit. she looks like that and she likes girls? you’re so fucked.

“what about you?”

“what about me?” she licks her lips.

“anything i should know about you before i give you the key.”

“well, i’m kind of in…a relationship. kind of, not really.” fuck, that sounds complicated. too complicated. “it’s…i dunno…but, uh, she might come over if that’s okay?”

you swallow thickly, yes that sucks goodbye!! “no, i get it…no problem as long as you pay your rent on time.” you die a little on the inside again.

she smiles again, it’s painfully beautiful. “i can definitely do that.”

you hand her the key and clear your throat again. “alright, roomie.”

#rock the boat!#paige bueckers x reader

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kitkatt0430 · 1 year

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F and G?

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

"Oh, really? So you all didn't manipulate me into being the one who convinced Master Ansem to make that special lab for running experiments on hearts? I wanted so badly to prove I was one of you, that I could be taken seriously despite my age and you all… you used and lied to me. Every single one of you. Because Xehanort had us all so caught up in his cult of personality that you told a child that his guardian… his only remaining family had abandoned him. And that it was my fault for helping hide our experiments from him. You made me think he'd gone mad and I was to blame. I knew our experiments were wrong, but you were the adults. I followed your examples because I thought I could trust you to do the right thing, to protect me. I shouldn't have needed protecting from you!"

Part of Ienzo going off at Aeleus in Hearts in a Void

The full scene is that Aeleus started teasing Ienzo about his 'girlfriend', who was a friend who'd read into Ienzo's friendliness the wrong way since Ienzo is aromantic and instead of accepting she'd made a mistake and staying friends with him is now giving him the cold shoulder. It's sort of a 'straw the broke the camel's back' moment. Ienzo hasn't been feeling respected by Aeleus or Dilan as a coworker already and he's been stressed over realizing he isn't interested in romantic relationships and the way he was treated as a child was very manipulative and abusive - something Aeleus and Dilan were a big part of. And they never really apologized for any of it.

It was really cathartic to write, really. When I was first figuring out that I'm aromantic, my sister wasn't taking my refusal to sign up for online dating seriously - she never signed me up without my permission, but only because my brother-in-law convinced her that'd be a bad idea. Thank goodness for him, really. In retrospect my parents didn't really realize I was telling them I was queer when I came out to them the first time around. And my dad has a tendency to treat verbal arguments like he's won if I tear up - guess who stress cries easily?

Writing a character confronting someone who'd wronged him and wasn't listening when repeatedly corrected was something I really needed to write out. And while things have improved for me over the years - my sister is now a big supporter despite our differences and my parents actually understand that me being aromantic and asexual are my queer identities now (though dad's still a dick when we argue about something - he doesn't like to be told he's wrong and absolutely moves goalposts mid argument, multiple times, if it means 'winning'). I think the feelings I got onto the page for that fic are still with me and have influenced other fics as well. But there was just something particularly special about writing for Ienzo in that fic that I come back to when I'm struggling with my family over something.

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

So I usually write start to finish. But not always, which would frustrate me a lot before I started treating my ideas as something that could stretch across a series of fics. That way I can write a single fic, start to finish, but in terms of its placement within the larger story, maybe it's way down in the timeline and the next fic I write could be at an earlier point. I still mostly tend to write the separate fics within a series in chronological order, but I'm a lot more comfortable writing things out of order than I used to. It doesn't lock me up or frustrate me which has definitely shown itself in how much I write and post these days.

Send me an ask about my writing :D

#kitkatt0430 answers #writer ask meme

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queenshelby · 3 years

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My Friend’s Father (Part Nine)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Smut, Domestic Violence, Angst

Words: 3,064

Please comment and interact...it's what keeps this blog going

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

Almost a week had passed since you stayed with Cillian at his unit in Galway and, despite the fact that he was away, things had further developed between you as emotions grew with every day.

He was different to any man you had ever been involved with and, whilst your involvement with each other stemmed from purely sexual lust and hunger, you had evolved from this to something different entirely within a matter of days.

Of course, you knew each other for years and, whilst you had a crush on Cillian for as long as you could remember, you never thought that it would be like this and, for Cillian, this feeling had never been mutual.

Whilst he always considered you to be attractive and very intelligent and kind, he never felt any emotional connection or sexual attraction towards you, at least not until that weekend when you visited Denise, which was also the first time he saw you again after six months had passed.

On that night during which you slept with each other, he let his sexual hunger take over his reasonable thinking mind after he saw you, in his kitchen, making pancakes and you had since, quite openly, talked about it. He saw sleeping with you as a mistake but, ever since that night, he couldn’t get you out of his head.

For you, things weren’t just sexual anymore and you began to feel strongly for Cillian which worried you especially since he was open about the fact that he didn’t know where things were heading with you. The fact that you are his daughter’s friend and much younger than him clearly bothered him and he sometimes admitted to you that he felt strange about building such a strong connection with you. A relationship was not what he wanted but he liked you, a lot.

As such, during the past week, Cillian called you every day after he finished filming and you were talking to him more frequently than you were talking to Denise.

During his breaks, he would also text you and check in on you as you were in the middle of exams. He always remembered when you had a test and asked you how it went and, when you told him that you didn’t feel confident with your results, he reassured you that you probably did well and, even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. According to him, a pass is a pass and you needed to lower your expectations of yourself just a little.

To your surprise, he also remembered appointments you had scheduled and things that bothered you which meant that, unlike other men you had been with, he was actually listening and was interested in what you had to say.

Some nights, you had spent hours on the phone or Skype, joking about things you had encountered that day or talking about books, literature and music, which is something you both enjoyed.

Politics and social issues were other matters you could discuss endlessly and, even when you were of different opinions, you would be able to argue in the most satisfying way. Cillian always treated you as an equal and even opened up to you about his divorce from Denise’s mother recently.

Another thing you learned from Cillian was that Denise was brining along her friend Amalie to Manchester to stay at his apartment and, when you gave him a warning about her and her intentions, he reminded you that he only had eyes for you. In fact, he always showered you with compliments and all of his compliments were genuine and came natural to him, helping you immensely with your self-consciousness.

Unfortunately, whilst you enjoyed how engaging Cillian was with you every day, like a teenager in love, with the constant text messages and calls, your father soon got suspicious and confronted you about.

****

“Dad, I am almost 22, you don’t need to be spying on me” you said somewhat frustrated as he asked you who you were talking to every day.

“You live under my roof and you answer me young lady” he said harshly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes just as your mother stepped in, trying to calm him down. Your father was much older, approaching sixty and fairly old school in the way he expected you and your sister to behave.

“A friend…I am talking to a friend” you explained and your father asked again, telling you not to lie to him because he would know.

“And this friend of yours, you can’t meet him…you just text and talk? You can’t bring him to our house and introduce him?” your father asked along with a million other questions.

“No, I can’t. he lives in Dublin and I, most certainly, wouldn’t bring him into this…” you said somewhat irritated by the interrogation.

“Dublin, huh? So, you met him when you visited Denise?” he asked and you nodded.

“It’s not her brother, is it? Because I really don’t want you to get involved with him. I don’t like this family and their views” your father said harshly, causing you to chuckle.

“Their views?” you asked somewhat surprised and your father nodded.

“Yes, their views on what’s right and wrong. If I recall correctly, this girl you call your friend was going out with someone of the same gender for a while. God didn’t tell us to do this but her parents obviously didn’t have an issue with it which, apparently is called new age parenting. Everything is pro choice and lets their children decide what is best for them even if they lack experience” your father went on to say and you couldn’t help but shake your head at his absurd commentary but, he continued and you soon learned what had happened between your parents and Denise’s parents many years ago, before which your mother had called Denise’s mother her friend as well.

According to your father, Cillian had voiced his opinion to your father when it was found out that your sister was pregnant following a short affair with a man she had met through university.

Cillian’s ex wife had told your sister that she had options, causing your father to get rather angry with her, which is when Cillian stepped in, supporting what Denise’s mother had said.

She had offered your sister help but your father considered this to be a betrayal and, whilst your mother maintained contact with Denise’s mother for a while, your father refused to get involved with Denise’s family thereafter.

Cillian’s often all so public views angered him and he made this very clear. He didn’t want you to be involved with his children and you couldn’t help but laugh about the irony of it all when you found out about this incident.

“Jesus Dad, that was years ago and not everyone has to have the same views as you” you said before confirming that you weren’t seeing Denise’s brother.

“No, they don’t, but I am just looking out for you and, instead of acting the way you do, throwing yourself at guys with new age ideas, I would much prefer if you met a nice young catholic man” your father explained, causing your mother to fume in anger with him.

“Throwing myself at guys? Listen, I am not sure what slut you think I am but it’s nice to know that you think so little of me” you said before storming upstairs and into your room.

Having to deal with this crap bothered you and you knew that, when this semester came to an end, you could be moving out now that you saved enough money for a bond and rent.

*****

As the evening went on, you spent all of your time in your room, reading a book until, finally, at around 9 o’clock you saw a notification on Skype.

‘Hey Beautiful’ Cillian said as you picked up and popped in your headphones.

Cillian apologised for calling through so late and informed you that he was finally able to speak to Laura, the woman he was seeing before you.

He knew that you wanted to know about it and he had no problem telling you what you needed to hear while telling you that you had absolutely nothing to worry about.

It was Laura’s first day back on set after a week-long break and Cillian told you that she wasn’t exactly impressed when he stood her down.

‘She probably likes you…I can understand that’ you said calmly but Cillian told you that he was pretty clear with her about what this was between them.

‘Well, in retrospect, I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her’ he went on and you were quite happy to change the topic by this point and told him that you were aching for him.

‘Well, I am not sure that I can help you with that’ Cillian chuckled.

‘We could have Skype sex I suppose’ you giggled.

‘Skype Sex?’ Cillian laughed before telling you that he didn’t think that this would be a good idea since you were at home with your parents and you had previously complained about the thin walls of the house.

‘Oh Jesus Cillian, my father already thinks I am a slut, so I personally don’t care if anyone hears me getting myself off. I’ve got my earphones in and am the only one who can hear you and my door is locked’ you chuckled.

‘Your father thinks that you are a slut? Do you want to talk about that?’ Cillian asked concerned but you shook your head.

‘I rather not. You met him and know what he is like’ you explained.

‘I do. He takes God very seriously’ Cillian said before continuing on. ‘But, if you have problems at home you need to tell me please. You can stay at my apartment. I can get my house keeper to meet you there with the key’ he offered.

‘You said you were going to stay out of stuff between me and my parents just as I would stay out of matters between you and Denise’ you then said, reminding him on the conversation about your respective roles which you had three days ago.

‘Yes I did, but I can’t if I have to worry about you’ Cillian said firmly.

‘There is no need to worry Cillian. I promise’ you reassured him. ‘Well, actually, I need you to worry about my sexual needs right now’ you then went on to say with sly grin.

‘Through Skype?’ Cillian asked again somewhat concerned.

‘Yes’ you said with a cheeky smile as you settled more into your bed with your laptop.

‘Alright then, show me what you are wearing” Cillian said as he cut straight to the point.

‘Can you see?’ you asked as you adjusted the cam and showed Cillian your dark blue lingerie.

‘Very nice…but…I think you would look even better if you were naked, don’t you think?’ Cillian said somewhat nervously and you nodded in agreement.

‘Well, I suppose I should strip for you and you should strip for me’ you giggled as you seductively took off your bra slowly, showing Cillian your perky breasts through the camera.

You heard him inhale sharply as he watched you and took his t-shirt off at the same time, leaving him in nothing but his CK briefs.

Without words you then scooted back on the bed and removed your undies, allowing him to watch before you sat down on the bed, spread eagle and naked, giving him a good view of your mound.

‘Jesus Y/N, you are so fucking beautiful and sexy…touch yourself for me, nice and slow’ Cillian breathed out and you let his soothing voice wash over you, knowing what he was trying to do and happily helping him succeed.

‘Like this?’ you moaned as you began to run circles over your clit with your fingers.

‘Yes, just like that babe’ Cillian groaned as he shuffled down his briefs and you were finally getting a good look of his hard cock.

‘Oh god, I want to stroke your cock so badly’ you moaned as you seductively opened your pussy lips with your fingers, opening yourself up before reaching for the black vibrator you kept in your bedside table.

‘Well, someone's particularly horny tonight’ Cillian chuckled as he watched you play with your pussy, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You mumbled a small "mhm," and he laughed.

‘Good, that's exactly how I like you, so naughty and needy’ Cillian said as he slowly began to stroke his hard member.

You barely registered his words enough to answer with another "mhm," but your subconscious managed it. Your weak answer elicited another delicious chuckle from the other end of the line.

"Why don't you show me how this little toy of yours works?” Cillian then asked as he watched you eagerly.

“I was just waiting for you to ask” you giggled as you began to run your fingers along your stomach and back up to your chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps their wake before reaching for the vibrator and turning it on.

“Put into your sweet pussy babe, let me see it” Cillian groaned and you moan in response, barely processing his words but still understanding enough to answer and do what he asked.

"I bet your pussy is already dripping” he said as you slid the vibrator into you slowly. He was right, you could feel your wetness pooling.

“I am so fucking wet and I wish it would be your cock inside me” you moaned as you began to stroke the toy in and out of you.

Cillian was groaning on the other side, his eyes full of lust and desire for you and you let out a quiet moan as you watched him with the same desire and hunger while you were pleasuring yourself.

“Good girl, keep going…” Cillian tells you and you moan again hearing it.

“Tell me how much you are aching for my cock” he then said you moaned again.

“I want your cock so badly, fuck…I want your cum inside me, dripping out of my wet little pussy” you moaned, eliciting a groan from Cillian as he began to stroke his cock harder and faster.

“Such a naughty needy girl, aren’t you? I can’t wait to be inside you again and make you cum over and over again” Cillian said with a laboured breath and you are barely listening at this point.

“I want you to cum for me and show me this dripping pussy when you do…I fucking love hearing your moans, so fucking sexy…common babe….let go” Cillian said, knowing that you were close and your orgasm rolled over you as soon as the word 'cum' left his lips, and although your sensitive clit was screaming at your hand to stop, you couldn't.

‘Oh god fuck, yes…’ you moaned as you came hard and fast.

“That’s it babe, don’t stop” he instructed as your moans continuously spilled from your mouth, and you were not even sure what you were saying or if you were forming words at all. The only thing in your head is a deliciously heavy fog and Cillian’s voice guiding you to do what he wanted.

“Don’t stop, keep fucking your sweet little pussy babe” Cillian ordered as he knew you weren’t done and, just as he did, you let out a high-pitched moan, bordering on a scream, as an even stronger orgasm washed over your body.

‘Cum for me babe…I want to see all this cum’ you moaned in return, focusing on the delicious image in front of you as Cillian was stroking his cock and, just when you finally come back down you heard Cillian groan loudly.

“Fuck” he groaned as he stroked his cock hard and fast you watched rope after rope of cum spurt onto his stomach.

‘Oh god, what a waste, I want to lick your cum off your skin so badly” you breathed out as Cillian came down from his high slowly and used a tissue to clean himself up.

‘Stop saying those things or you have to stay on the line for another twenty minutes at least’ Cillian chuckled as he could feel his manhood stir again.

‘Well, I think you shouldn’t cum again until you come to visit me in Galway the weekend after next…I want you to save it all for me’ you said, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow as he pulled his briefs back up.

‘Fat chance babe’ he chuckled, knowing that going without an orgasm for nine days would be rather difficult for him.

Eventually, after a lot of begging, he agreed to try but he wouldn’t be able to make you any promises to this effect.

***

The following day, you went to work and then university thereafter but, when you eventually returned home, your father was in a worse mood than ever before.

‘Can you explain this to me?’ he asked angrily as soon as you walked through the door and you couldn’t help but gulp when he pointed to a white box which he had placed on the living room table.

‘You went through my personal belongings’ you huffed out as the box contained some lingerie and intimate items, including toys, that you were hiding in the bottom of your dresser.

‘Again Y/N, this is my house, my rules and I don’t want my daughter to own filth like this’ he said, after having heard small pieces of your conversation with Cillian on Skype the evening before.

It was obvious to you that your father was appalled and you were outraged that he had been snooping through your room and, as you would later learn, had even tried to access your computer.

‘I can’t fucking believe you dad. These are my personal belongings and you have no right to go through them’ you huffed out and, just as you did, you could feel a sharp strike across your face.

‘Get this shit out of my house and talk to me with some respect’ he said harshly, leaving you speechless and in tears as he walked away, leaving your cheek burning red.

Tag List:

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@peaky-cillian

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you

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deepseavibez · 3 years

Text

Blindspot || KTH

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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Blindspot [Taehyung x Reader]

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Genre - Best Friend; Fear of the Future; Nighttime Memories; Mixed Feelings;

Summary - She believed in more. In better. In bigger. That life was out there waiting to be grabbed with both hands. He's made it his sole purpose to remind her that simple moments were beautiful and meant to be enjoyed... and maybe, she would realize he was one of them.

Warning - (Slight) Angst; Anxiety; Unsure feelings; Fear of the Future; Fluff; Comfort;

Word Count - 4.7k

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🎶 - I'm Fine - BTS

TAE

‘Tae.’

‘Y/n?’ He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the time, ‘it’s 3am babe.’

‘... I'm sorry for waking you. Sorry. Go back to sleep, it's okay.’

‘Hey, no, no, I'm awake.’ Sitting up, he switched the phone to his other hand and rubbed at his eyes, ‘What's going on.’

‘It’s not important, I swear,’ he could hear her trying to mask her shakiness over the phone. ‘You can go back to sleep.’

He wouldn’t call her out on lying. He knew better than anyone when y/n was in a bad way. Once he asked her, specifically him, what was wrong, she would crumble and he wasn’t there to catch her right now. ‘Y/n. Come on, talk to me.’

‘I can't sleep.’

‘Yeah, no shit,’ he yawned back.

‘I'm so sorry for waking you.’ He could hear the trepidation in her voice.

‘You know better than to apologize for something like that, ‘ he chastised. ‘Babe, tell me about it. Was it a bad dream? Something keeping you up?’

----------

Y/N

You could hear shuffling over the phone as you searched for an answer. It was hard to put certain emotions into words. You only knew you needed to phone Tae, regretting it too late, when he actually answered. ‘I'm not sure,’ you started awkwardly, ‘I guess. I just don't know where I'm going.’

‘Do you plan on leaving me anytime soon?’ Already pulling your leg, he got you to roll your eyes.

‘No, of course not. I just mean, like, metaphorically.’

Things were a bit...confusing right now.

It had been a long time since you last had to deal with emotions this strong. The voices, getting harder to ignore. You had enough outside negativity to deal with, like family and some friends, all having this certain expectation from you.

It was new for you to rebel, to be who you wanted to be and feel how you wanted to feel without consequences. Choosing a life you solely strived toward, negating the tiny voice in your head saying you were wasting time and you were running out of time and you were not enough.

‘I don't know what I want to do, Tae!’ You burst out, the build up too long, the burden too heavy. ‘I don't have plans. I have a great job, I do. But I don't want to be a PA for the rest of my life and I don't know where to start, where to look, how to choose what I want to do.

I don’t have it figured out, it hasn’t fallen onto my lap, and when I look, I feel like I’m going to waste even more time looking.’

‘Y/n, you know you have a lot more figured out than you give yourself credit for.’ The huskiness of his sleep-leaden voice, comforted you. ‘You have money, a routine stable job, you've worked you way through university and graduated with honors.’ Taehyung did it without effort and he knew you would hear his gruff tone above all others, in a crowd, in a panic, as a voice of reason.

‘I know, and I keep trying to remind myself of that, but it’s just become unbearable. I am running out of time.’ Struggling to remain composed you spoke into the phone as if he was right here, ‘What if I'm still here in ten years, Tae? What if I don't ever figure out my purpose? What if I'm meant to just work and then die? I haven't lived! I haven’t seen the world. I’ve made everyone proud and now I’m the black sheep. I prefer it, It's just-,’

The sound of keys jangling cut you off.

‘Tae,’ you asked tentatively, confusion evident.

‘Hmm.’

‘What are you doing?’ You asked when he provided no further explanation.

‘Are you in pj's right now?’

‘Uh,’ you looked down at your white vest and underwear, just to make sure, ‘yeah, why?’

‘Miss y/n, I didn't know you slept in the nude.’

The protests left you immediately at his teasing, slithering heat under your skin at the very notion. ‘Tae! I am not sleeping in the nude, I have underwear on.’

‘Uh huh, what color are they?’ Your cheeks flamed in embarrassment. You could imagine his smirk, that dumb cocky, arrogant smirk.

He laughed, the sound gruff, infuriating you more, and causing you to giggle back. Because you were the butt of the joke, and you liked his laugh too much. Trying to be mad at him, even when play-fighting or harmless bantering, Taehyung, not a chance.

‘Listen,’ a seriousness settling between you, ‘get dressed, just sweatpants, and a shirt.’

‘Wait, what, why,’

‘Baby, listen for once. Just get dressed and give me five minutes.’

You looked at the blank screen, stunned. Your brain stuck at the word baby, and the effect it had. Your insides were mush, anxiety mollified, despite not knowing what he was about to do next.

‘Babe’, you knew, ‘babe’, you understood, that was normal, routine, best friend. But Baby?

You mulled over it as you discarded your vest, and threw on a loose Celine shirt. Pulling on your black sweats, a pair of socks and air force ones because who knows what this boy was up to, you stopped. You sniffed, once, twice, yep, that was Taehyung’s body wash, but what - oh, you tugged the loose collar toward your nose, yep, this was Tae’s shirt.

You composed yourself, almost deadpan at the small realization. When had he even stripped in your room and why weren’t you there.

Wrapping your messy hair into a bun, you restrained your mind from wandering further.

Your phone beeped from the bed and the screen lit up, a message popping up. ‘Look out your window.’

Peeping out you saw his black Jeep in your driveway. He popped his head out of the driver’s side window and did a two finger salute.

Shaking your head with a smile, you grabbed your phone and made your way downstairs through the house and out the front door.

‘What are you doing here,’ you asked as soon as he came into view. He looked good, white tee, black sweatpants, you matched, except for his leather jacket and red bandana.

He opened the passenger door on your side and leaned back, giving you a once over. His lips twitched as he rested his eyes on the shirt you wore. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wanted you in his shirt. You raised your eyebrow playfully, refusing to give life to something like butterflies and heart-eyes when your best friend stood in front of you. Life was complicated enough.

‘You needed me to show up.’ He said it a matter-of-factly, but you knew he wanted to be there for you and you couldn’t, not feel grateful, and a little warm, that he would get into his car drive to you, all because you needed him to.

Not waiting for you to reply, he threw a jersey at you. ‘Its cold,’ his tone left no room for protest and he cocked his head toward the jeep, a sign to get in.

You wrapped it around you silently, not moving, not yet.

‘Well,’ his thumb curled around the top of the steering wheel as the rest of his fingers straightened out, his freehand rising to follow his question, ’Come on, get in.’

‘Where are we going?’ You would have gotten in, you would probably end up wherever he was going to take you anyway, but where was the fun in doing everything obediently. Even puppies had wild streaks.

He raised his eyebrow this time, a smirk teasing his cheek, 'You're brave every night, y/n. But not tonight, not while you're with me, come, trust me, wherever we go I'll keep you safe.'

You turned to close and lock the front door, breathing out slowly, as slow and low as you could, doing your best to work on the constriction around your heart; his words too wiry, too strong, too genuine to forget, too deep to ignore. It made you so... agreeable.

Getting into the Jeep, you felt different as you sat here now, in a seat you had been in too many times to count. It was probably the time and the circumstances. Yeah, some shifts were just because of the time, and the air and because it was silent and the dead of night.

You said nothing more, even though a few minutes earlier you spoke into the phone like you would explode if you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, you would be alone in your head, if you weren’t able to make him understand.

You jumped slightly, as you felt his hand close over yours, and pull it toward him to brush his lips along your knuckles. It was an absent action, maybe, because he stared straight ahead, didn’t spare a glance at you as you stared at the side of his head, making it look like he wasn’t even aware he was doing what he was doing.

Swallowing against the pounding of your heart, you chalked this up too. Night time was vulnerable, everyone was just a little more sensitive, you didn’t have to make it more than it needed to be.

Looking out the window you noted the lights and dark windows, empty parks and streets, doing your best to ignore the heat against your hand, the breath against your knuckles, lips not very far away, that were capable of a lot more.

With some effort, you faded out the intensity of his actions, and as your eyes adjusted you saw familiar figures, and buildings you had driven past numerous times. You knew where you were going.

He pulled up in the parking lot of his safe haven. In retrospect, your safe place should be entirely different, but you were safe with Tae, that said, his peace was where you found yours.

Jumping out of the Jeep, you noted how dark and looming the two story building looked. A huge sign reading 'Blindspot' the only posh part about this place, black metal roller doors, spray painted names across the walls, some of the neon colors standing luminescent against the moonless night.

One would think it was graffiti, but the community knew better, the ones that came and went, some that stopped and never left, knew having your name on the wall was a privilege.

He jumped out too, after grabbing something from the back. Carrying it toward you, you noted his knapsack, and a box of some sort.

Handing it over to you to hold, you took hold of them silently, as he pulled out the keys to open the locks and deadbolt.

You watched him, his actions purposeful but he was at home, knowing which way the locks turned, the catch on the bolt needing to be kicked out a certain way before opening fully; he'd done this a thousand times before.

Lifting up the shutters, the noise too loud for the silent night, he opened the door and guided you in, making you all too aware of his palm in the small of your back. Taking the stuff from your hand and throwing it onto the edge of the ring and he lifted up to close the shutters behind you.

You took notice of the extra shirt that falls out of the pile on the ring, one of your favorites of his actually, grey with black spots, sort of like a giant cookies and cream oreo mix.

The empty gym in front of you was a contrast to the busy days it had. There was a weight section, the bags lined up against the far wall hanging still, having no impact thrown at it to sway the dead weight, and the machines had their own floor upstairs, treadmills overlooking the balustrades to the floor below, by the ring where you stood.

The pool area, directly below you, in the basements where the changing rooms and showers could be found.

It looked small on the outside, but inside there were stories to be told, motivation, encouragement, brotherhood, friendships solidified in stone and a fair share of violent memories with broken bones, broken bonds and broken hearts.

Walls were packed with quotes, anatomy teachings and pictures, schedules, a dedicated to growing trophy case with medals and newspaper clippings, and pictures of staff, members, and the boss, with his best friend.

What Tae didn't continue, was the stereotype of the grunge masculine look that came with gyms. Outside may be black as night, but inside there was color everywhere - a world within.

The punching bags were each a different shade, green, red, yellow and blue. The ring bottom was black, neon orange ropes running along the sides in three consecutive lines, and your personal favorite, a giant pride flag hung on a hook outside his office door.

Toxic masculinity wasn't allowed in Taehyung's gym. You could be yourself, make your own lifestyle choices and still be a good fighter or just work-out. He took it upon himself to punch the teeth out of anyone that thought otherwise. This was what he'd always wanted to do and he made it more than just a place to get healthy.

There were four hours, two for the morning, two for the afternoon, catered only to women. Tae understood that men will be men, no matter how much you tried to change it. And comfort mattered.

Working out and exercising, as much as it seemed, like a chore, it could be enjoyable. It could be a social setting, helping people to open up, and cope, providing the best way for them to be themselves.

You helped him find a premises, helped him choose color schemes, and sat in on interviews. For legal purposes you were an advisor and owned a small share percentage. You didn't want it, but Tae insisted, you were especially grateful when the gym grew into more than you both had expected it to become.

'Y/n,' he waved his hand in front of your face, the action snapping you out of your thoughts.

'Huh, sorry, did you say something?'

He smiled comfortingly, 'Take the jacket off and your shoes.'

Scrunching your eyebrows, you finally asked, 'Tae, what are we doing here?'

'We are,' he started explaining as he ripped open a box in his hand, 'doing something I feel you need.'

Looking at you pointedly, he motioned his eyes to the jacket.

Shucking it off, you took off your shoes and redid your bun for good measure.

'It's strange isn't it,' you voiced out loud. He perked up at your food for thought, fingers fiddling with white tape. 'It's strange, that I know every corner of this place, but I haven't ever put a pair of gloves on.'

He raised his hand absently, a student raising his hand to give an answer, his gaze focused on yours as he did. 'That's because you've never had the need to, I'm here to protect you.'

Turning away, you caught yourself, before you let your heart show in your eyes. You've known Tae for so long, been his best friend for years, why now, why this feeling, this tightness in your chest.

You played it off, and walked over to him, socked feet padding against the wooden floor boards.

Taehyung clicking his tongue startled you out of your effort to feel normal; you found him staring at your socks.

'Y/n, I've told the guys this numerous times, you can't spar in the boxing section with socks. It's a slipping hazard.' No trace of the out of the blue romantic words, he bent down easily removing them from your feet one after the other.

It would be weird, if you weren't already so used to his skinship, his cuddling when he slept over, his hand straying over your shoulder on the couch, or brushing against your waist when he passed you. Yet, his thumb, on your ankle, his hand as he circled and held it, even for just the moment that he laid your foot down after taking off the sock, you felt… taken.

You wanted to snort, the wording completely off, I mean, he had a right over you, always had but-

He came into focus, looking up at you from where he sat, and asked lightly,' Do you wash these.'

Your mouth dropped open, as you watched him hold your purple socks in between two fingers, like it would bite him, or the smell would.

Your knee nudged at the side of his face playfully as you reached to pull him up. He took your socks, holding them properly now and put them in his bag, picking up the white tape he was fidgeting with earlier.

'So, will I be sparring with you today?' You were excited now. You had watched people vent and let themselves be free as they learned technique, let themselves be violent without consequences, the satisfaction on their faces after their sessions.

When he finally reaches you again he finds the catch and opens it out. White athletic tape, used to make arms and wrists stiffer, and to provide better grip, even with sweat and slick.

'No, not today. Let's focus on getting you worked up and tired. If you enjoy it, I'll gladly let you go toe to toe with me.' His eyes held a challenge, an underlying meaning evident.

Offering your hands up freely, he taped your wrists and fingers, you've seen him do it many times, just never on your wrists. Experimentally you shook out your fingers and bent and scrunched your wrist to allow for the right amount of tightness.

'Cocky, aren't you, Mr. Kim,' you side-eyed him.

He leaned into you, his breath teasing yours, 'I am the Coach here, y/n.' You blinked at the nervous fluttering in your chest, his intimidation, usually not directed so closely to you, doing something you couldn't explain, couldn't quite grasp.

Somehow, you should be scared, but it was, hot.

Leaning into him, breath for breath, you matched up, 'Then teach me.'

A slow smile broke out over his lips, playful Tae was back, it let you navigate things easier, you knew what to expect.

'So, I'm boxing the bag,' you deduced. 'I don't see why I need to tire myself out. I don't know how to do this.'

His palms closed over your cheeks, puffing your face up, emphasizing your pout. 'You are frustrated. You can't do anything about any of your emotions tomorrow, y/n. You have to be patient. You have to remind yourself it's a day at a time that gets you to your future. It will always be about patience.'

'Unfortunately, patience is overrated at something to 4am,’ you complained as he let go of your face and bent down to produce a new set of gloves from under the ring. Opening the zip of the bag, he pushed one toward you.

Shaking his head at your antics, not even phased, he strapped the gloves to both your hands and walked toward a bag. 'Come on, try it.'

'Color?'

'The yellow one.' He made to stand behind the bag you chose, and held either side of it, knees bent slightly in a defensive stance.

Feeling slightly out of place, and awkward, you huffed and punched the bag just to humor him.

You stared at it. The fucking thing didn't even move.

He burst out laughing at the comical look on your face.

'Okay, wait no,' he composed himself and came around you. His breath fanned your neck, giving you goosebumps, as he held your wrists and showed you how to punch. 'So straighten your elbow, like this, and pull it back in and see how the gloves are shaped, your forefingers curl above your thumb, so inside your glove your thumb shouldn't be in the fist.'

Nodding as you took in the new information, you did your best not to get distracted as he continued, all too comfortable in his element.

'When your wrist hits the bag don't curl it, let it face the impact head on. See, this is how you do it, so you don't break your wrist.' He made you punch the bag and showed you where your wrist was bending and how to keep it tight.

'Alright, baby,' that word, that goddamn word, 'you good to try again?'

Closing your eyes and swallowing hard, you nodded in answer and shook your head out of the Tae trance.

'Start with a simple combo this time, Jab, Jab, Uppercut, Hook.' You knew the names and their directions. Jab was straight forward, twice fast on the submissive hand as a set-up, the uppercut from downward into the abdomen or chin, depending, and the hook, from the dominant hand rounding off on the face.

'Think of it all y/n,' he encouraged, as he walked to his original position, 'the people, the words, the expectations, the beating up of yourself you do on a daily basis, and just go for it.'

Spreading your legs in a stance, aiming at the bag on his command, you clenched your fists and focused.

'Go'

----

'And breathe.'

Breathing heavily you fell flat to the floor, and stared up at the ceiling.

Sweat was in your eyes and your hair, but despite being in dire need of a shower, you felt oddly at ease. Tiny zings of exertion shot through your body as your lungs begged for air and you heard your blood rushing.

The roof was really pretty you thought, the wood positioned in long blocks to form and hold up the gable, grabbing your attention for the first time ever.

You blinked as Tae's face came into view, his hands resting on his knees.

He smirked cutely as he brushed your sweat slicked hair out of your eyes and off your face before reaching down to pick you up off the floor.

Handing you a water bottle, you let him manhandle you as he lifted your form to sit on the edge of the ring, launching himself up to sit next to, a second later.

'How do you feel?' He was proud of himself no doubt, after all, his plan did succeed.

You made a face at him, anyway.

'Hey,' he put both his hands up in mock surrender. 'It worked, didn't it.'

You cut him some slack, this time. 'Yeah, I feel icky, but definitely less worked up.'

---------

🎶 - Black Swan - BTS

TAE

Taking a swig of the water you had opened in your hand, he looks at the top of your head as he closes it and puts it away.

'Hey.'

She looks up at him, eyes hooded in exhaustion.

He smiles at her. Despite how much he loved her spitfire, she's adorable when she's not talking back.

He knew of the thoughts that crawled up her spine on a daily basis. He knew she had no plan, and it made her hyper that she didn't have one, but she couldn't make one because, what if she chose wrong.

He wanted to take care of her. He wanted to tell her that she could be whatever she wanted to be, and he would fly her across the ocean if she really wanted it; that she didn't need to worry about life so much because he would always take care of her.

'You're too sad.'

She scrunched her eyebrows at him.

'You have the whole weight of the world on your shoulders and you can't do anything about it.' He chose his next words carefully. 'I wish you could take a breather, and let a thought be a thought instead of picking it apart.'

He held up his hand to her when she made to protest.

'You know, things may not feel okay right now, with work, or at home, and in your head. But I've never seen someone adapt like you have. You bounce back, despite how much grit it takes.'

He took the gloves off her hand and carefully unwinded the tape on her fingers.

'I don't have answers y/n. But I do know you have me for a long time and I'm going to be here as you do your thing.'

Placing pressure on each finger he massaged the tightness out of it and flexed it for her.

'I don't know where you're supposed to go, if you were meant to leave and give me a round-the-world heartbreak, I'm not sure who you're supposed to be, I don't even know if you have a higher purpose, it wouldn't surprise me if you did, but you, y/n,' he heaved a sigh as he faced her, his gaze meeting hers, his next words the most important thing she'd need to remember,' you're a good you.'

As he met her eyes, her breath hitched. He heard it. He could see the flush in her face. He knew he was being honest. He knew he meant every word.

A half smile, a heavy acceptance, hands that were so easy to hold, eyes that were never anything but honest, a bond that all but forced a person to keep swimming. That was Taehyung to y/n. And that was y/n to Taehyung.

'You're a really, good you,' he reinforced. 'Right now, it works. I have a feeling it will work for a very long time.'

'I'm scared.' He could hear it in her voice. He heard it back when she was in her room too.

'Nothing is really set in stone, babe. And even though it does feel like you're running out of time, it's something you can't help. It's not what you want to hear but it's true.'

'How do I stop being sad?'

She was deflecting. But he had said it before, it wouldn't be gone tomorrow. Her anxiety and her fears, they will probably never go away.

She had the right way to go about it though. You get through it. Somehow. Some days it's a good cry, some days it's with a punching bag, and some days, it was with a best friend.

'See, now that's why you have me.' He answered confidently, as he put his chest out, his need to have her be okay, her smile, her laugh, his only intentions, his favorite thing these days.

'Oh really, you, why, because you're a clown.'

He feigned offense at the statement. 'Excuse me, I am not a clown, ask anyone that comes in for the 5am rush.'

She looked up at the clock in shock, it was really going half-four. She turned back to him sadly, 'I kept you up all night.'

'It was a fun night,' he replied, the teasing of many other ways to keep him up on the tip of this tongue, deciding against it, he looked away from her. 'You needed me, no amount of sleep is worth that.'

He didn't explain himself, he really didn't mind the lack of sleep. He could easily catch a nap in his office, or head home after half a day. But this, this moment with his best friend, that he wanted to be more, he knew he wouldn't choose to be anywhere else. He knew he'd do it over again too.

Pushing off the ring he grabbed the knapsack and handed her his shirt. 'Change out of that shirt, and use this one, you'll catch a cold, because of the sweat. And let's get you home, you need a hot shower, and sleep. I'll drop by for dinner after work too.'

Finally turning to her, he found she hadn't moved an inch, unshed tears in her eyes. Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her toward him, sweat and all, and held her in his arms. 'You're first y/n, you'll always be first.'

A tender kiss on her head, his words rendering her speechless, and he knew uncharted waters were on the horizon.

This night, things that he'd said, the ways in which she responded, it was going to shift things for them.

But silence was comfortable for them. And she drank his share of coffee while he ate her share of pineapple, because he couldn't stand coffee and she hated pineapple. And he could hold her in his arms and she'd use his shirt while they slept.

It would start small, but he'd show her, the future was bright, she was deserving of more than she understood, she would be protected from her family and expectations and she would learn to remember, purpose or no purpose she wasn't alone, she never would be again.

#kim taehyung x you #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung #taehyung au #taehyung fic #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts fics #bts aus #bts oneshot

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jisungsplatforms · 3 years

Text

[Chapter I: Let’s Party!]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: strong language, use of alcoholic beverages, drunken antics, ?? jackson wang is throwing a party?? (jk he’s not aljsks. changbin is tho), nothing filthy in this chapter, unfortunately :/ just plot build up

Chapter word count: 2.6k words

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka (want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

Haven University; school of the elite. From the academically inclined to the artistically blessed, only those who were gifted with such talents are accepted to augment their potential. The perfect school for the sensational.

...And like every other school with young hormonal adults, also the perfect school for a good fuck.

“Another outstanding submission, Y/n! Keep up the great work!”

You smiled at your photography teacher, Mr. Kim, bowing humbly as you thanked him. You were proud. Praise after praise for your picture taking skills only heightened your motivation to be the best even more. Photography has always been your passion. Ever since you were given your very first camera at the age of 5 years old- which, in retrospect, was actually a toy camera, you already knew that it is something you would want to pursue.

In the middle of your teacher’s praises with another student, the bell rang. “Looks like we ran out of time, folks. Great job again, Seungmin. Everyone, class dismissed,” he said, jokingly using shooing gestures. “Now hurry up and get out of my face, you delinquents. Lunch time awaits. Go replenish your life force.”

You began gathering your belongings, slinging your precious DSLR camera around your neck. “Outstanding submission, young photographer.” You heard someone say. You turned around to see Seungmin grinning at you.

You snort out a laugh. “Thanks. Great job to you too, Seungmo.” Seungmin was about to respond when your instructor’s voice interrupted.

“Oh. Except Y/n. Please stay a little bit after class, for me, dear.” You and Seungmin shared a glance, nodding for him to go ahead without you. He pats your shoulder, bidding you goodbye. You continued packing your things into your bag. As the rest of the students left the room, you walked towards Mr. Kim’s desk, waiting for his word. “Hello, Y/n.”

“Hello, sir. You wanted to talk to me?”

“Ah yes. I wanted to ask you this,” your instructor paused, sitting on his desk. “How much do you love photography?”

You paused, wanting to convey the exact feelings you wanted to express. “Photography is an escape for me,” you answered. “It’s another form of art that helps people convey the emotions and stories people want to tell. Some people express their emotions through music and lyrics, others through paintings, and others through dance. For me, personally, I’m not all that good in any of those aspects, sir. That is why I work so hard when it comes to this class, and in photography in general.” You unconsciously caressed the camera slung around your neck. “And to me, the stories behind a photo is a lot more intimate in a way that I just can’t explain.”

“Because...this is the only way for you to express yourself? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” You nodded. Mr. Kim hummed in thought. “I see.” He stood up and walked to you, placing his warm hands on your shoulder. “I admire you, kid.”

“You...admire me?” You were confused. The teacher admires his student? Isn’t it usually the other way around?

“Oh yeah. Is that hard to believe?”

“Uhm...Kinda, yeah.”

Mr. Kim laughed mirthfully, amused by your bewilderment and doubt. “Well, believe it. You have spunk. Soul. Your work impart emotions I have never seen from my other students before. You’re passionate about what you do, and I like that. You take digital arts very seriously.”

You laughed awkwardly, the amount of praise your instructor was giving you made you happy. “I do, sir. Kinda a shame not a lot of people even consider it an art.”

“Indeed,” he replied, sitting down on his desk. “Which is why I wanted to give you an impromptu assignment. I want to assign you a story telling type of assignment; to write a story using your photography skills, if that makes sense.”

“Hm, yes? I think I get a jist of what you're trying to tell me.”

“Excellent. I just want to use this to monitor your skills, Y/n. You’re a very talented person, the most talented I’ve ever had even. I just want to see how much of that potential you really have so I can help you blossom it into something greater.”

“Oh,” you draw out, somewhat understanding why he picked you. “I see, sir. I’m honored that you’ve picked me.”

“You should,” he joked. “Now, I want you to photograph the following- write or type this down before you forget.” You hastily whipped out your phone from your pocket. “Ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay. I want you to capture the perfect scenes. Give me something that gives you joy. Something that makes you emotional, good or bad or even both, if you can. Something you fear, and finally, something that you love unconditionally. These are all supposed to be different photos, by the way. Got that?”

You finished typing a few seconds later. “And...got it.”

“Awesome!” he smiled. “Just know that I’ll be giving you only 3 months to complete the assignment. I hope that this isn’t too much to ask of you, but I’m sure someone as ambitious as you doesn’t mind, right?”

“Nope, sir! Everything will be a-okay!”

“I’m glad! Now move along and get to the canteen already. I’m sure you’re just as hungry as I am.”

You giggled, making your way to the door. “Thank you sir! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Oh, finally! There you are! We were starving waiting for you!” You rolled your eyes at Minho, who immediately decided to pick on you the second you entered his field of sight.

“Shut up, you could’ve eaten without me you know?”

“Nah, cause what kind of friends would we be if you ate without you?”

“You just want to steal some of my food, don’t you?”

Minho scoffed and went quiet, prompting Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jeongin to laugh. “Caught you red-handed, Hyung,” Hyunjin teased, which backfired immediately causing him to chant an apology after Minho gave him a look.

“So why did you take so long, Y/n?” Jeongin asked.

“Oh, Mr. Kim wanted to give me an extra assignment.”

“Extra assignment?” Seungmin questioned. “What for?”

You shrugged, sitting down. “Uh, to test me? I’m not sure but I honestly think that there’s something more behind it. Not in like a bad way, just to clarify. I mean, he did acknowledge that I’m the best in his class after all.”

Seungmin snorted. “I just know you meant that unironically.” You jokingly blew a raspberry at him.

“Of course Y/n is the best!” Hyunjin stuck his chin up. “Let’s be honest, anyone could be the best if they use me as their model!”

“Hey, Hyunjin? You wanna eat this straw?” Minho threatened, making Hyunjin shut up.

“No...?”

“Good. Get off your high horse, prince charming.”

The three of you laughed. “Poor Hyunjin,” Jeongin sympathized sardonically.

“Hyunjin please stick to dancing and uh- not dying,” you said. “I still need you alive for some more upcoming projects.”

“For me too,” said Seungmin. “I might start using you as my model as well.”

Hyunjin fake cried, “Y’all just like me for my looks!”

“I mean, there’s no denying you are incredibly handsome but we like your personality too, Hyunie, don’t worry,” you cheered him up, then turned to Jeongin. “What about you, Yeni? How’re you holding up now that Lix is gone?”

Jeongin gasped. “I miss him! I’m so lonely now, especially when I have theatre! I feel so awkward now that girls swarm up to me instead- and you know I’m a shy boy!”

“Hey! At least you’re more popular now!” Minho laughed.

“Well, now we have no choice but to remember Felix in our hearts,” Seungmin replied.

“I’m not fucking dead. I just switched majors!” the four of you turned to see Felix pouting at you all.

“Well, you’re dead to me!” Jeongin wailed. “Going from a theatre major to a dance major. How could you?!”

Felix chuckled, sitting down between Seungmin and Jeongin. “I’m sorry! You know I’ll still see you though, buddy!”

“Why don’t you just switch to a regular vocal major next semester, Yeni?” you asked.

“Nah. I originally did want to go for just regular vocal studies but, you know, even if I did accidently sign up for the class, I ended up finding something else I wanna do. Plus, theatre is surprisingly fun! You know, find something new that’ll change your life every day.”

“Yup! Especially since they often collab with the dance majors so we get to see each other a lot!” Hyunjin beamed while Minho nodded in acknowledgment.

“Oh, speaking of dancing,” Minho chimed in. “You guys wanna go to a party I was invited to?”

“No,” Seungmin immediately responded.

“No, not you, I knew you would say no. I meant the others.”

Hyunjin nodded, “I was invited to the same party you’re talking about, so yeah.”

“Can’t,” Felix replied. “I’m still getting used to my new major and I still have a few assignments to catch up on.”

Jeongin hummed in agreement. “Same here. We have a play coming up soon and I’m a lead this time, so I gotta stay home to rehearse as much as I can.”

Minho made a stank face, “Aww. Lame.” He turned to you. “What about you, Y/n? You down?”

You thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

“Really?” All 5 boys looked at you incredulously.

“Yeah. I might find some inspiration while I’m there. Besides you know I’ll just be leeching off of Hyunie and Min the whole time.”

Minho and Hyunjin high-fived, cheering a quiet ‘yes!’ Hyunjin giggled. “This is great cause we might need a designated back up driver in case I get drunk and Minho-hyung abandons me!”

“Now that you’ve said that, I might seriously consider that,” Minho grinned. “We’ll pick you up at 8 sharp! Y/n!”

‘8:53pm’ You wanted to go home already.

The boys, true to their word, picked you up at 8:00pm. With little to no traffic- and the fact that Hyunjin actually got ready early so that they wouldn’t be an hour late- the three of you made it to the party around 8:20pm. Even then there were already a lot of people there.

“What the fuck. This house is huge!” you gawked. “Can you even consider this a house still?!”

Hyunjin shrugged. “I’d say this more of a mansion at this point.” All you do mutter a constant chant of ‘what the fuck. what the fuck’ over and over again. “Who’s house is this again, Minho?”

“Changbin’s, remember? Jisung said they’re celebrating in his house,” Minho replied.

“Well this Changbin dude is LOADED,” you mused. Even in the dim lighting, you could see the elegance of the house, which most likely costs more than your entire tuition. “I’d hate to be the one who has to clean up the place.” The boys lead you to the kitchen, helping you avoid the crowd cause, in your words, ‘ew yucky people’. There, they brought you to two men wearing all black, who were hanging out on the island counter. Their names were Changbin- the handsome rich boy who owns the house, the lucky bastard- and Chan- another handsome rich boy with the cutest laugh and dimples, both really sweet and hilarious men, whom you very much enjoyed talking to...

That was the last memory you had before it went downhill.

It took 33 minutes and 4 soju bottles later for Hyunjin to get drunk. Chan and Changbin were back at the booth, manning the song list for the night while Minho was somewhere with some guy in a red beanie doing absolutely nothing, so here you were: stuck babysitting your best friend. “Y/n! Y/n!”

You sighed hearing Hyunjin drunkenly call you. Again. “Yes, Hyunie?”

“I looove you~!” he sang while giving you finger hearts, rocking on the balls of his feet. You sighed again, rubbing your temple.

“Yeah yeah. I know. Love you too.”

“Y/n!” Your left eye twitched. You whipped out your phone from your bra to text Minho.

Me: You bitch.

Help me

Minho ho ho 😼: Hi

You glowered. You quickly glanced up to check Hyunjin, who was now sitting on the carpeted floor in front of you, counting his luscious black hair.

Me: He’s-he’s counting his hair… Please get him. It’s like watching a bird repeatedly hitting glass

Minho ho ho 😼: At least he’s not making any trouble now, is he?

He fucking jinxed it. Hyunjin stood up with a shocked look on his face. “What’s wrong, Hyunjin?”

“It’s my favorite song!” he cheered, starting to dance along. You have to admit, even when he’s drunk, he’s still an exceptional dancer. Texting Minho a quick ‘fuck you’. You put your phone back between your breasts to go back to monitoring him, preparing yourself in case you needed to tackle Hyunjin down.

“Heyyy, Y/n!” Minho suddenly draped his arm around your shoulder. Taking your eyes off of Hyunjin, you glared at your lazy, backstabbing friend, shoving his arm off of you.

“Asshole, you’re ten minutes late.”

“Oh I'm not here for Hyunjin. I need your phone.” You look at him audaciously.

“What the- why?”

“My-uh-phone died?” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Your eyes briefly flickered towards Minho’s friend, who, in return, looked down bashfully, red faced. Hm. Weird. You rolled your eyes, nonchalantly reaching into your shirt to get your phone. Minho didn’t even hide his grimace. He cringed, “It’s warm...and wet?”

“Shut up. I’m sweating, okay? And I don’t have any pockets on me.”

Minho nodded, going back to his little friend. Before you could scold him, you heard Hyunjin screaming. You turned around to find him running to the front door. Oh shit. You started pushing people to run after him

You groaned in disgust, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of here. You pushed your way out of the crowd, cringing at the feeling of touching numerous dirty, unknown people. Where in the world is the fucking exit? In the midst of the sweaty, drunken bodies, your eyes met. It was like time had stopped; no one within the vicinity seemed to not have mattered anymore. With just a smirk and a flirty wink from the chubby-cheeked boy in the red beanie, you knew…

...you just had to fuck him

Hold on, Y/n. Your friend might get fucking ran over! You snapped out of it. With a flustered face, you continued shoving your way through, wrangling Minho on the way. “Come on, fucker. You’re helping me. Let’s go,” you sneered while Minho complained.

After 30 minutes of chasing and wrestling, the drunken beast was tamed. The night ended with Minho driving you all home instead while you and Hyunjin cuddled in the backseat against your will. Minho took great pleasure in knowing that he wasn’t Hyunjin’s cuddle buddy, laughing every time you tried unlatching yourself from him, which made the long haired boy cry. Your sadistic friend dropped you home first, apologizing for not being much of a help tonight. “To make it up to you, I have something for you,” he suspiciously said, wiggling his eyebrows, before giving your phone back and driving off.

You relaxed on your bed, happy that you were rid of those dirty, smelly clothes. You grabbed your phone to text Minho. Assuming that the messages app was left on your conversation with him, you started texting, not paying any mind to the fact that the chat was blank.

Me: Thanks for taking me I guess. I didn’t get anything other than unwanted kisses from Hyunjin ew but it’s aight.

Speaking of aight…Do you think you can give me your friend’s number? 👁👁 The one with the red beanie.

Cause sir, not to be nsfw or anything but he is one fine ass man that I’d like to fuck

Almost immediately, the three bubbles appeared. You were surprised that Minho would reply that fast, thinking we was still on the road with Hyunjin. The reply you got, however, made your heart drop.

Min’s hoe: uh...hi? 👋🏻

this is minho’s “fine ass friend with the red beanie” 👁👁

Shitshitshitshit SHIT

[NEXT CHAPTER]

A/n: Sorry no smut in this chapter just plot build up :(( (which i’m a sucker for) and a lot of dialogue. But Trust me. Everything written in this chapter will fall into place with the future chapters. And who know, next chapter might be 🥵

#stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids series #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz smut #han jisung smut #han jisung series #han jisung scenarios #han jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #Late Night Indulges

142 notes · View notes

alilamba · 3 years

Text

wip...monday

Ugh, so, before this last week, I think I hadn't written anything in...three or four months. My state started opening up again, things were looking good, all I wanted was to be with my friends, outside with my kids, all day, every day, with all my free time. COVID numbers are on the rise nationally again though, so I find myself pulling back in, keeping my kids at home, and...back at my laptop, honestly.

It feels good to write again. Have a very rough first draft of something I've been working on for...years XD

“Are you sure you don’t want to see if I fit into your suitcase again?”

Veronica hates that she’s resorted to the most banal of bad jokes, but…this is apparently where they’re at. Taking a last minute stroll away from the hustle and bustly of the Kanes’ imminent migration from suburban villa to vacation villa, Duncan does the polite thing of not responding, his mouth tightening as he squeezes her clasped hand.

But she can’t seem to help herself.

“Duncan?” she adds.

He stops walking, which is something. Something more than he’s said for the last few hours, after they got up together, suffered through a cold, awkward breakfast while Duncan’s parents wandered in and out of their kitchen, seemingly always surprised to see Veronica still sitting at their kitchen counter nibbling toast with their son.

She and Duncan have known this day was coming for a while, okay? Veronica shouldn’t be feeling such a lump in her throat. She shouldn’t be working so hard to untangle a jumble of nerves sitting low in her gut.

It’s only six weeks. Maybe eight, if the weather is good and the Mannings can join them, but…

“Well?” she prompts, feeling truly pathetic.

Duncan turns to face her, takes her other hand in his own. Why doesn’t he look…okay, well, she doesn’t know how he looks. He looks as if there is something on his mind, like he’s working through a really difficult math problem, or something. But final exams were last week – he shouldn’t have – well – no – okay, Veronica is just trying so hard not to imagine the worst, she’s really grasping at whatever alternate reality is presenting itself. Maybe it really is math. Maybe he’s about to talk to her about math.

Veronica wets her lips. “Seriously, Duncan, I can get pretty sma—“

“I think we should break up.”

In retrospect (well, later in retrospect. Not now. Now she has no spect at all to retro) she will realize this is not at all a surprise. That a hundred clues presented themselves to her over the course of the last 48-odd hours, and that this is merely a culmination of all of those things.

Now, however, the ground does a really awful job of opening beneath her feet, and she gets the horrifying feeling of missing a stair.

“What?” she manages, and her voice is small and fragile.

Duncan is frowning, staring at something in the vicinity of her navel.

“I said, I think we should break up.”

It’s really no better to hear it a second time. She feels like she drops an extra six inches into the dirt.

“But – why?”

He squeezes her hands, and Veronica remembers to take a big, giant, shaky breath.

An awful, horrendous, horrifying thought occurs to her.

“Wait, is this about la—“

“It’s not about…” he cuts her off, and then glances at her quickly, “that.”

She exhales, feeling the belated sting of tears. Her skin is going hot and cold. Oh god. Oh god this is happening.

“Duncan I don’t understa—“

“It’s just,” he says, and he drops her hands to look away. “It’s just that I’m going to be gone all summer, Veronica, and, well, after that it’s senior year, and then college, and, well, honestly, I just think that it’s a lot to ask of us, okay? Just a lot to ask, when we’re about to go start our lives.”

“But, Duncan,” she hears herself say, and she already knows she will hate herself for this because it feels far too close to groveling, “Duncan, I can make the time, I can probably afford a fli—“

“Look, I’ve thought about it a lot,” he insists, turning back towards her. He’s a bit taller than her (fuck, everyone is), and he’s standing between her and the sun, and she has to squint to make out his features. “And – this is the right decision. I’m sure if you think about it, after I’m gone, you’ll realize the same.”

The burn of unshed tears is really pressing upon her now. Oh god – she’s pathetic, she thinks, except it’s with this panicky, oh my god, oh no, oh no, oh no mantra looping through her insides –

He takes her hands again, but Veronica barely feels his touch in her clammy hands, because she’s submitting all her energy to not losing it (don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry) in front of him.

“Seriously,” he says, and he leans forward, pressing cold, dry lips to her forehead. The tears she doesn’t want to cry spill over on one side, dripping down her cheek. “This is the right decision. Good bye, Veronica.”

Good bye, Veronica.

The reality of the moment comes crashing down, and Veronica’s hands drop to her sides like dead weights as Duncan steps away, steps around her, and begins his walk back to the house. Veronica can’t move. She can’t move, and she needs to, because her car is back at the Kanes’ house, and she needs to move it out of the way so that their cars can get out of their driveway and they can catch their private jet to Tampa. To Tampa, for crying out loud –

Veronica scrubs at her eyes, furiously willing the tears to stop. Her wet mouth drops open as she looks into the sky, hoping the sun will dry out her tear ducts. Not here, she begs herself. Not now.

Oh my god it’s really over.

She hugs herself in the sun, feeling suddenly cold. Clenching her jaw together, she inahles through her teeth, wincing as she listens for Duncan, turning halfway to ensure he’s gone. Her face crumples again as she follows his path back to her car. No, she reasons, desperately, foolishly, this can’t be it. This can’t really be it. Duncan will change his mind when he’s on the plane. He’s going to call her tonight, because this is just the separation anxiety talking. They’re Duncan and Veronica. They’ve been dating for most of the last year…more or less…well, sort of off and on, really, but definitely they were more on than off, and this was just going to be another one of those off periods, right? Right?

Veronica comes to a stop right outside the Kanes’ driveway gates. Oh god. Her keys. Her bag – they’re inside. Except…

This is surely a new low.

One of the Kanes’ housekeepers is making her way down the driveway, looking polite while she carries Veronica’s shoulder bag. Veronica can manage all of two steps to meet her.

“I’m so sorry,” the housekeeper whispers, offering a tight smile before hurrying back inside.

Veronica is going to cry again. Seriously, she can feel it, and it’s only with a surge of icy hot rage that she grasps her bag to her body and lurches for her piece of shit car.

It’s already unlocked because hello who would steal this car here, and she is sure she leaves a skid mark on the pavement she reverses so quickly.

Tears blur her vision before she’s down the massive hill his house is on.

She knows what this is about, actually.

Oh god. She’s known since she was sitting next to him eating toast, while he pushed scrambled eggs around with his fork.

It was her stupid idea.

Her stupid idea.

He hadn’t even wanted to – oh god he hadn’t even wanted to – memories are spilling through her mind, one after another, and she wants to scream.

Lighting a bunch of stupid candles in his room while he finished packing in his walk-in closet.

Draping herself over his duvet, rearranging her limbs, double checking her cleavage in the stupid bra she’d spent so much money on. It didn’t fit her well at all, but it was 50% off when she bought it, and, well, it was lingerie wasn’t it??

Seeing the look of shock on his face when he walked back into his room.

The awkward conversation that followed (are you sure? We don’t have to – no we really don’t have to) she’d had to convince him, and then it had been…it had been…

Veronica really had nothing to compare it to besides, well, movies and porn.

And she knew sex wasn’t supposed to have so much accidental hair pulling.

That things weren’t supposed to be so…dry.

And painful.

And…

Tears sweep over her face, fresh hot peals of it as she opens her mouth at a stoplight and sobs.

#veronica mars #alilamba writes #vm fanfic #fanfiction #veronica mars fanfiction #LoVe

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acesydneysage · 3 years

Text

A Sydney and Eddie retrospective

@vablappreciationweek Favorite familial relationship: The Melrose Twins

Part 2, Books 4-6: The Heartbreaking Trilogy, Why Are You Doing This To Me This Is So Sad

Part 1 here

In The Fiery Heart, Sydney and Eddie definitely already love each othe like siblings. By the end of the book they prove that in the most painful way possible, but let's ge through some cuteness first while I steel my heart.

We get Adrian's perspective on this book, so it's nice to see Eddie talking about Sydney when she isn't around:

“Because it’s Sydney,”said Eddie from the backseat. In the rearview mirror, I could see an easy smile on his face, though there was a perpetual sharpness in his eyes as he scanned the world for danger. He and Neil had been trained by the guardians, the dhampir organization of badasses that protected the Moroi. “Giving one hundred percent to a task is slacking for her.”

When Sydney wants to soften Zoe's extreme opinions on vampires, she picks Eddie to be Zoe's driving instructor because she wants "someone approachable and friendly who’d show her not all dhampirs were evil creatures of the night."

When Sydney is being a sappy romantic and describes what love is to the group, Eddie is the one who lingers looking at her the longest, he can tell something is different about her. They really know each other by now. When Eddie let's Zoe drive outside of the parking lot, he knows Sydney so well that he knows what she's going to say, and what to say to make it better:

“I can’t believe Eddie of all people would do that. It’s irresponsible.”She nodded. “He said you’d say that and that I should tell you, ‘At least it wasn’t Angeline.’”I couldn’t help it. I laughed at that. “That’s true. He does have limits.”

Later when she tells Zoe frivolity might not be such a bad thing, they have a sweet little moment:

“Sometimes frivolity isn’t a bad thing.” Eddie, who didn’t seem put out about the dance, grinned. “Sydney, when we first met, I never would’ve thought those words could come out of your mouth. What happened to you?” Everything, I thought. I met his grin with one of my own. “We all need some fun. We should forget that dance and go out and see a movie that night. When was the last time we all did that?”“I think the answer is ‘never,’” said Jill.

When Neil comes up with his crazy plan to test the Stigoi vaccine, Eddie is very shaken up by the similarities to the event in Spokane that lead to Mason's death. While Sydney thinks that "if Eddie was involved, one Strigoi seemed feasible", what finally convinces Eddie to go is her magic. Although Neil puts her on the spot, she does ultimately make the choice to trust him with this dangerous knowledge about her:

Eddie wasn’t swayed, and there was a look on his face I’d never seen before. “I’m not denying the principles, but it’s too dangerous. And not just to you. I did something like this once . . .” A pain so intense that it tore at my heart crossed Eddie’s features. “Me and some friends. We thought we could take on Strigoi . . . and my best friend ended up dead. No matter how prepared you think you are, even against only one, the unexpected can happen.” [...] The more this got out, the more trouble I was in. And yet, as I looked into Eddie’s steady gaze, I was reminded of our friendship and all we’d been through. In a world of secrets and lies, there were few I could thoroughly trust anymore, but I knew then, without a doubt, that Eddie was one I could. Taking a deep breath, hoping I wasn’t being a fool, I held out my hand. A nervous glance around confirmed we were alone, and I brought forth a spark of fire in my palm that soon grew into the size of a tennis ball. Eddie leaned over and gasped, the orange flames reflecting off his face. “Maybe . . . maybe our odds have gotten better,” he said.

During the fight with the Strigoi they go after, we get a little more about their similarities, how they're both so dedicated to helping others, and they both seriously admire each other so much. You get a bit of that from Sydney's perspective,and how much she cares about Eddie:

I knew what agony Eddie had to be in because I shared it. We both wanted to help Neil. Doing nothing, even for a handful of seconds, went against every part of our beings. [...] For his part, Eddie was magnificent. It had been a while since I’d seen him fight, and I’d nearly forgotten that the adopted brother I joked and ate lunch with was a lethal warrior. [...] I had to act. I couldn’t just stand by and let Eddie be annihilated, not if there was anything I could do.

After the fight, Sydney is caught up in the euphoria of surviving a near death experience, and she makes pretty much zero effort to hide her relationship with Adrian from Eddie:

As soon as I was on the road with Eddie and Jill, I told them, “I need to see Adrian. Drop me off and take my car. He’ll give me a ride back.” Eddie looked totally surprised by that. “Why do you need to see him?” “I just do.” I didn’t feel like attempting an excuse, and Eddie wasn’t the type to badger me. The most I got was a curious look when we reached the apartment. His curiosity turned to panic when he realized I’d be leaving him alone with Jill. “Good luck,”I said as I got out, not entirely sure who needed it the most.

When Eddie figures out that they're together she tries to avoid the conversation, expecting condemnation, but he's very supportive. This is the last conversation they have before everything falls apart, and everything I tried to remove to shorten it felt like an important character moment, but the most relevant parts are bolded:

“Sydney . . .”Eddie’s light mood vanished, and even with my eyes on the road, his tone tipped me off that something serious was about to happen. “About that. About you going to Adrian’s . . .”I felt a tightening of my throat and couldn’t answer immediately. “Don’t talk about that,” I said. “Please.” “No, we need to.” Eddie knew. Eddie knew, and if the subject wasn’t so dire, I would’ve laughed. He was oblivious to his own social affairs, but guardians were trained to watch and observe. Eddie did that, and no doubt he’d picked up all sorts of little things between Adrian and me. We tried so hard to hide from the Alchemists, but hiding from our friends, who knew us and loved us, was impossible. “Are you going to lecture me?” I asked stiffly. “Tell me I’m breaking taboos that have been in place for centuries to preserve the purity of our races?” “What?” He was aghast. “No, of course not.” I dared a look. “What do you mean ‘of course not’?” “Sydney, I’m your friend. I’m his friend. I’d never judge you, and I’d certainly never condemn you.” “A lot of people think what we’re doing is wrong.” It felt strange and oddly relieving to acknowledge my relationship with Adrian to another person. “Well, I’m not one of them. If you guys want it . . . that’s your business.” “Everyone’s suddenly very liberal about this,” I said with wonder. “I just heard a similar thing from Trey and Angeline—about their own relationship, that is. Not about . . . other people’s.” “I think my ill-fated time with Angeline may be part of it,” he said, with more humor than I expected, considering she’d cheated on him. “She talked enough about her people that after a while, it didn’t seem that weird. And, well, my race exists because humans and Moroi got together and had kids way back when.”I felt a smile start to grow on my lips. “Adrian says it wouldn’t be fair to the world if he and I had kids, what with the overwhelming power of our collective charm, brains, and good looks.” Eddie laughed outright, not something I heard very often, and I found myself laughing too. “Yeah, I can see him saying something like that. And that’s the thing, I think . . . the real reason I’m not that weirded out by you two. It goes against all sound logic, but somehow, you two together . . . it just works.” “‘Against all sound logic,’” I repeated. “Isn’t that the truth.” A little of his amusement faded. “But that’s not what worries me. Or the morality of it. It’s your own people I’m worried about. How long are you going to be able to go on like this?” I sighed as I took the exit for the meeting spot. “As long as the center holds.”

Eddie thinks Sydney and Adrian make sense. Obviously I agree that they absolutely do, but on a surface level it doesn't look like it. You have to know them and have a better understanding of their personalities to figure out how they actually fit together. What he's worried about is the Alchemists. Of course, by this point, since the ending of TFH is a sadistically drawn out torture, we already know from the ending of the last chapter that she's about to be captured.

I made it the door first... and found Eddie. His clothes were dirty and torn, and the right side of his face was swollen and red. There was a wild, half-crazed look in his eyes I’d never seen before. A feeling of dread settled over me, and the darkness and despair and fear that had left me alone for so long began to rear their collective ugly head. I knew, even without Eddie saying a word, what had to have happened. I knew because of that terrible look of pain on his face, a pain similar to when he hadn’t been able to save Mason. [...] “Adrian,” he gasped out. “I tried, I tried. There were too many. I couldn’t stop them.” He came forward and gripped my arm. “I tried, but they took her. It was a setup. I don’t know where she is. She tricked me, damn it! I never would have left her if she hadn’t tricked me!”

When they figure out it's a trap and he tells her to run, her first instinct was that she couldn't leave him behind. When they're running together through the woods the Alchemists start shooting at Eddie, specifically. He's running at Sydney's pace and she knows he would never leave her, the he would die to save her. And she knows she could not let him die.

Eddie won’t leave me, I thought frantically. He’ll never leave me. They want me, but they don’t care about him. He can live or die, and it won’t matter to them. But if he’s what’s keeping them away, they’ll shoot him and destroy his body. “Eddie,”I said, panting. “We need to split up.” “Never.” That answer wasn’t a surprise. What was a surprise was that out of all the things rattling around in my mind, Abe Mazur’s words popped up in the forefront:. Don’t think for an instant that I wouldn’t do terrible, unspeakable things if it could save someone I love. Because it was Abe, I’d naturally assumed he was talking about doing terrible, unspeakable things to other people. But as Eddie and I held on to each other, the words took on a whole different meaning. In that moment, I knew I would do anything to save Eddie—my friend—whom I loved. Even if it meant doing something terrible and unspeakable to myself.

The first thing established in the first paragraph of Bloodlines is that re-education is Sydney's greatest fear, literally her worst nightmare. But she faces that, she walks right back and turns herself in in order to keep Eddie safe. She tricks him into spliting up by claiming that it's part of a spell, and he believes her because he's seen her do extraordinary things.

“I tried,” he whispered. “Adrian, I tried. I never would have ever left her if I’d known. I would have stayed with her to the end. I would have laid down my life and—” I had to forcibly hit the pause button on my own feelings as I dealt with his. Eddie had lost another person. It was bad luck, that was all. He was one of the most badass , capable guardians out there, but he couldn’t believe that about himself, not when he kept seeing these failures laid at his feet. Looking into his eyes, I recognized the intense self-loathing consuming him. I knew the feeling well because I was carrying around a fair amount of it myself. “I know you would have,” I said. “There was nothing you could do.” He shook his head and stared off with a haunted look. “I was an idiot. I never should’ve bought into that spell stuff. After what I’d seen her do with fire, it just seemed so . . . well, real. I believed her. It made sense.” I smiled without humor. “Because that’s what she does. She’s trained to make people believe things. And outsmart them. You didn’t have a chance.” She also was willing to trade her own life to save her friend’s, but no one had trained her to do that. It was just something within her. Eddie wasn’t going to be swayed so easily, and I left him to his grief as I huddled with mine.

When Sydney's captured, Eddie feels like he failed her, just as he'd failed Mason in Spokane, and Jill when the rebels killed her. But still, he has faith in her, that she can hold on to herself:

“How much can they really change her, though?” asked Eddie. “I mean . . . she’s Sydney. She’ll be the same . . . right? She can fight them.”

In Silver Shadows,Sydney is in re-education, and she still finds it in her to be worried about her friends on the outside. Eddie's humiliation and guilt over having lost Sydney killed the kindling romance he had with Jill. There isn't much he can do to help find her at this point.

Once they find a lead on where she is, going to her rescue is very important to Eddie, but he also feels conflicted about leaving Jill with less protection. When the time comes, Jill convinces them to take Eddie because he needed to be part of her rescue, he'd been consumed by guilt this whole time, and that might be the only thing that would allow him to feel redeemed.

With some urging from Jill, he leaves her behind, and goes off to break into a prison again, to rescue a much worthier prisoner this time. After getting mostof the prisoners out, Eddie and Adrian go back into the burning building to get Sydney and the remaining people. After they bring her out to freedom, they have this moment where they hold each other and cry, it always makes me so emotional:

Eddie came last, and as we sized each other up, the tears hovering in my eyes finally spilled. “Eddie, I’m so sorry I lied to you that night.” He shook his head and pulled me to him. I heard tears choke up his voice. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them. I’m sorry I wasn’t protection enough.” “Oh, Eddie,” I said, sniffling. “You’re the best protection. No one could have a better guardian than you. Or a better friend.”

I hope Eddie did feel redeemed, because Sydney pretty much immediately tricks him, and gives him the slip again. She does take the time to try to nudge his love life again first. Then she goes off with Adrian, going against the plan, because she thinks the other fugitives will be safer without her.

"Eddie shot me one last parting smile that nearly choked me up again." “I never thought I’d see Castile brought to tears,” said Adrian as he started up the Mustang. “This really hit him hard. Hell, it hit all of us hard, but he really beat himself up for it. He never forgave himself for you giving him the slip.” “Let’s hope he can,” I said, putting my seatbelt on. “Because it’s about to happen again. We aren’t meeting them at the safe house.”

Eddie was furious about this, but at least this time she didn't get captured. And soon enough he had something else to feel bad about, since Jill went missing right after he got back to her. She disppeared without a trace in the middle of the night, and there's another failure laid at Eddie's feet.

He's not in a great state in the beginning of The Ruby Circle:

Eddie appeared in the doorway. Seeing him almost always brought a smile to my face. In Palm Springs, we’d passed ourselves off as twins, sharing similar dark blond hair and brown eyes. But over time, he’d truly come to feel like a brother to me. I knew few others with such courage and loyalty. I was proud to call him my friend, and as such, it hurt me to see all the pain he felt over Jill’s disappearance. There was always a haunted look about him now, and sometimes I worried whether he was really taking care of himself. He hardly ever shaved anymore, and I had a feeling the only reason he bothered eating was so that he could keep training and stay in shape for when he located Jill’s abductors.

Sydney isn't doing all that great either, stuck in a hostile environment while she deals with her trauma and worries about Jill. When Sydney and Eddie sneak out of court to look for Jill, the power of Raptorbot can make him smile:

“It couldn’t have been that unexpected,” I argued. “I mean, why did he build a dinosaur body for her? Why not something more human? Or at least a more friendly animal?” “Because then there wouldn’t have been much of a movie,” said Eddie. “There’s still got to be a plausible backstory …” I said. A wry smile crossed Eddie’s features, and although the entire topic was absurd, I realized I’d hardly ever seen anything but a grim expression on his face since Jill had been taken. “I don’t think you can really sit down with a movie called Raptorbot Rampage and expect a plausible backstory,” he said. The attendant looked offended. “What are you suggesting? It was a fine piece of film. When the sequel comes out, people will be lined up out the doors to see this exhibit!” “Sequel?” Eddie and I asked in unison.

I love it when the twins talkin unison, even if they probably had opposite tones. And I really love Eddie being a fan of Raptorbot I'm sorry. He and Declan have matching Raptorbot pajamas, you can't change my mind. This is another exchange that screams siblings to me:

“We were probably his only customers today,” I remarked. “That’ll make us memorable—that and having someone who’s actually seen and liked Raptorbot Rampage.” “Hey,” warned Eddie. “Don’t judge until you’ve watched it.”

Later Sydney tries to tease him about it again, but he's focused on the search so his good humor doesn't come back. I think it's very sweet thet she saw something that had made him momentarily happy through the pain, and tried to press that button again.

Eddie is understandably very protective throughout this book. It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you, they actually run into Sydney's family, while they're trying to stay off the Alchemists' radar:

“Then get out of here. Hurry—before he comes out. Both of you.” I was stunned at this complete reversal in her behavior, but Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. He took hold of my arm and nearly dragged me to the car. “We’re going—now,” he ordered. I caught one last glimpse of Zoe before Eddie shoved me in the car, where Ms. Terwilliger sat waiting for us. A thousand emotions played over Zoe’s face as we peeled out, but I could only interpret a few. Sadness. Longing. As we quickly got back on the road, I found myself shaking. Eddie was driving and kept anxiously checking the rearview mirror. “No sign of pursuit,” he said. “She must not have been able to see which direction we went to tell him.” I slowly shook my head. “No … she didn’t tell him at all. She helped us.” “Sydney,” said Eddie, in a stern-but-trying-to-sound-kind voice, “she’s the one who turned you in the first time! The one who started that whole re-education nightmare.”

He doesn't really belive that Zoe had a change of heart, and he tries to be so gentle with Sydney, while anxiously trying to get her away.

With how sad he is in this TRC (he even has broody beard to show it), the bits where he gets excited about things are really adorable. He's very enthusiastic about meeting Malachi Wolfe:

“Are the Chihuahuas really trained to attack?” he asked. I couldn’t help but grin. “That’s what Wolfe claims. We’ve never seen them in action, though.” “I can’t wait to see his nunchucks.” “Do not touch them,” I warned. “Or any weapon, without permission. If he approves of you, he might lend you something too.” [...] “Oh, man,” breathed Eddie. “There really is a herd of them.” I’d seen Eddie fearlessly face down an attacking Strigoi, but he took an uneasy step back at the sound of the canine charge. I grinned and turned toward the door, waiting for Malachi Wolfe himself to answer.

There's a lot of hugging after Sydney leaves re-education. Sydney and Eddie hug a lot, but just in general. Good for her it's what she deserves. "“Eddie,” Sydney exclaimed, running to give him a hug. He grinned back. “You guys okay?” "

When Sydney and Eddie are preparing to infiltrate the Warriors of Light as recruits, she gets a super strength spell while he gets super excited about it, and they have the cutest arm wrestle in history:

“And how much stronger?” asked Eddie eagerly. “Like lift-up-a-car stronger?” Maude smiled. “Sorry to disappoint, but no. [...]” She glanced between Eddie and Sydney speculatively, her smile growing. “I’d say you’re strong enough to hold your own with a dhampir in an arm wrestling match.” “I would kind of love to see that,” I admitted. Eddie’s face said he would as well. Sydney groaned. “Really? That’s so barbaric.” Eddie leaned over and propped his arm up on the table that had previously held the canteen. “Come on, Mrs. Ivashkov. Let’s do this. Besides, if you’re squeamish about arm wrestling, how are you going to handle going head-to-head with the Warriors?” [...] Ultimately, Eddie pushed his strength to its limit and finally defeated her, but not without her holding her own for a while. I held up her arm triumphantly, like a victor at a boxing match. “My wife, ladies and gentlemen. Beauty, brains, and now brawn.” “Awesome,” said Eddie, in a rare moment of delight.

He's really excited about human magic in general, such an adorable nerd. And again, they really do admire each other so much. Following Sydney's blackmailing the Alchemists: "I hung up, and Eddie regarded me with awe. “That was pretty badass. But do you actually think it’ll work?”"

In the epilogue, Eddie pulled strings to live with Sydney and Adrian as a Guardian, and he's one of the people who's in on Declan's secret. He even chooses to sleepin Declan's room.

I sprinted out of the room and up the stairs, to the bedroom that doubled as both a nursery and Eddie’s room. I had high enough royal rank to finally be assigned my own guardian, and Eddie, in that noble way of his, had pulled strings to be assigned to us. I’d initially protested because I wanted him to stay at Court and have a semi-normal dating life with Jill. Eddie, however, felt obligated to be with us—both out of friendship to Sydney and me and for all the times Neil had helped him. We’d offered to turn the house’s small study into Eddie’s own bedroom, but he always ended up sleeping in Declan’s room anyway.

I'm really glad they didn't get separated by the end, it always makes me happy to think about them living together.

#Rapha's Bloodlines Tag #sydney sage #eddie castile #bloodlines series #vampire academy #melrose twins #va #bloodlines #vablappreciationweek #I think I'm late even in Honolulu #I'm incapable of keeping things short and simple #my outline for both these posts had one sentence per book

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nighttimepixels · 3 years

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TALK TO US ABOUT MASS EFFECT I HAVE BEEN AN INSANE MASS EFFECT/SHAKARIAN TRASH PERSON SINCE 20-FUCKING-11 AND LEMME TELL YOU THOSE FEELINGS HAVENOT TARNISHED A SINGLE FRACTION IN THOSE TEN YEARS OH MY GOOOOOOODDDSSSS!!!!!!!

I DEMAND A PLAY-BY-PLAY UP TO THE MINUTE OF YOUR REACTIONS TO EVERYTHING!!!!

you are so valid and I totally see why everyone I've ever mentioned it to loves the hell out of it

aksdjlsdfj I meannnn if you want to hear my rambling about it then hell yeah

Okay, gonna put this below the cut to save everyone else XD also- since I'm not leaving this Mass Effect obsession anytime soon, if you're not interested in seeing occasional posts about it, please feel free to block the tag "night plays ME"~

(mild spoilers ahead??)

((also for real I mean it when I say this is rambling as hell lol, apologies and no stress if absolute no one reads all this))

OKAY SO Mass Effect 1-

Stars help me, I was honestly hooked right from the start?? Like even in Legendary Edition (the combined trilogy just re-released in one "can play it on one system + minor improvements", for anyone who doesn't know) where it's smoothed out, of course it's obvious that ME1 is a decade old... but the foundation for these relationships are all there and gods I love them already.

Like - Kaiden right off the top is a delightful good fightin lad, what the hell. I've heard that he's viewed as 'bland' by a good portion of the fan community but I dunno, he's a delight and even more complex by the time 2 rolls around and you encounter him on Horizon, it was honestly Ashley I was way more meh about - mostly because before you can learn about her family history/etc, she comes off as hella xenophobic and I was immediately offended for my growing space family that she didn't like/trust all the aliens around, pfff.

(she gets redeemed a bit through further actions/evolving thoughts, but I thought in retrospect it was a bummer that they didn't flip the order there, give her a chance to be liked before the complicating factor of being so rude about aliens >:c that then she could grow from... ah well. Apparently she has a good arc but uh, let's just say I chose Kaiden at the "key junction" in the latter part of the game so I won't be seeing anymore of Ashley uh... anytime soon, haha.)

Garrus??? Is??????? The ABSOLUTE best???????????

I liked him from the start, I'm always a bit of a sucker for a rogue-detective "the system won't bring this bastard to justice, so I've got to" type and all their moral shadiness XD But he just gets better, honestly, and where I'm at in ME2 (right before the Reaper IFF mission, as of typing this, with everyone's loyalty!) I am only digging myself deeper into this hole-

-*wheezing* okay anyways -

Wrex is AMAZING I love fightin' middle-aged krogan bastard, gods. Liara is great too, I'm a sucker for a wlw relationship (playing fem!Shepard, so) - buuuut I'll admit she's a bit more one-note in ME1. Last week while I was still on ME1 I remember hearing (while trying to dodge spoilers) that her arc is really good, though. I think they leaned a little hard on the 'innocent but sexy' sterteotype on her (so despite the yikes aspect of a few of the things I've learned in ME2, lol, I actually really like the complexity that's been added to her character.)

Saved Liara first, so by the time I got to Noveria and had the standoff with Benezia there was the chance to have emotions over Liara having to face her TwT and of course, I made the questionable but quality decision to free Queen Rachni heheh. no ragrets

More than a blow-by-blow of my choices though I totally wanna take the chance to say that even in the mild jankiness of ME1 (goddammit, the Mako.... please..... please just go up this impossible cliff I just want to resource hunt-) the way that the lore, both obvious/key to main plot and the lesser/filler/background/world-building kinds... I just love it. It incorporates it well, you can go ham in the codex learning more, or just dive into the basics - it's clearly a complex galaxy (and they do an even better job in 2 of fleshing it out further), and it never really felt overwhelming. It was pretty natural figuring it all out-!

Plus the interesting implications of resource hunting amongst the sapient races, and the little side missions you better bet I did every one of- there's so much rich depth in the story if you do 'em!! (And that lead with that Keeper side mission...? Looking back, damn, clever foreshadowing-!!!)

And oh my gods, Ilios??? hell yeah. I loved that mission so much, especially having Garrus & Kaiden with me when talking to the hologram/computer, and more than anything, that last sprint in the Mako trying to get to the jump before it closed-???

yeet the boi-

Also mannn I love a good setpiece, and having to go up the side of the elevator, space-side?? such a cool setup!!

Plus it felt good having been Paragon enough (as simple as the good v bad vibe system is, I don't hate it, lol) to avoid one of the Saren fights, ngl. And the er, "second fight" with Sovereign-Saren.... hell yeah

... I'll admit I had to double check my choice re whether to save the Council. I did in the end, but I swear, sometimes the way they phrase things I'm like ".... okay but Garrus is right, defeating Sovereign is more important than these few leaders??????" woops. Listen, priorities, is all I'm saying..... (￣ヮ￣|||)ゞ

'Course later they emphasize (in ME2) that there were 10,000 people on that same ship and I was like well I wouldn't have second guessed if I'd known that, I mean c'mon-

Also I did indeed romance Liara in this one, so I got that scene ;Dc But,,,, I also knew by the end that I was totally gonna romance Garrus in 2 since he's an option then finally,,,,, lemme tell you the guilt as I waffled over whether to romance Liara bc of it. hahaha.

Aaaaand Mass Effect 2-

So I'm only up to right before the Reaper IFF Mission, so I don't know the ending, etc etc lol. That said, I've just finished every side mission I've found with the exception of the Shadowbroker Quest and the Arrival Quest (I've heard the latter basically leads into ME3, and the former is best either right before the Omega 4 jump or in postgame).

So from the start - fuck yeah fuck yeah what a high adrenaline start Shepard noooooo but also yes save Joker aH-

The motion comic too hot damn nice job

I loved this setup, seriously - especially forcing Shep into this situation, having to work with/for Cerberus, and the compelling reasoning given behind "why" they do what they do (I especially found it a good point that the Salarians have the Task Force, the Asaris the Commandos, the Turians the- etc... like, true, when you put it like that, having a similar group advancing human interests/solving human interstellar problems is pretty reasonable...). That said, I love too that it really isn't shied away from how Cerberus is nonetheless fucked up - or its at least done fucked up stuff.

Listen, I still think some messed up stuff is gonna be revealed in 2's endgame......... after that Horizon mission and the Collector's ship???? TIM I SEE YOU YOU SHADY MF-

aaanyways lol...

I'm so so glad on a gameplay level they nixed the Mako style exploration. A few Hammerhead missions are fine and a lot more focused than the slippery ass navigation in that glorified ATV, pfff. The probes are a neat way of getting after similar resources - and more importantly, having good levels and some good hubs (the Zakera Wards, Omega, Ilium, etc) is way way more fun than having a more 'sprawling' space that is.... a lot of empty nonsense, lol.

Then there's the fact that we get Joker right off the bat and you can interact with him so much - and him and EDI??? Get out gods I love them. Kasumi is so right when she says they sound like a bickering old married couple lol. I have a terrible feeling that some shit is gonna happen with EDI..... but I don't think she's evil as-is, at least.

Side-eying the hell out of those "access forbidden" parts of her that she doesn't even know.... and the fact that her AI core has a locked door access................... something's gonna happen gdi LEAVE OUR ADOPTED AI ALONE.

(Also Joker pls stop fracturing your thumb on the mute button)

Also please save me there are so many hot aliens in this game,,,,, the xeno/monsterfuckers really comin' through strong in the sequels............... doin' the lord's work........................................

In general, I love how many levels ME stepped up in two with complexity and interwoven narratives!! Like, to the point it'd be almost a drag to replay ME1, even though it was fun going through it (if occasionally a bit tedious with the cookie cutter rando planet science/mine facilities, lol). Like, just from how fun and interesting ME2 is, mostly! more of all the pre-introduced races, plus new ones, plus more filling in of intragalactic politics, and more interesting implications of all these space-faring races mixing....

Also gods WREX and his planet holy shit,,,,, fuckin' hell yeah my man get their shit together and also adopt Grunt yes good-

And Mordin??? My singing semi-evil scientist best friend forced to confront his choices more than he thought he ever would have???? With some of the best ongoing general report chatter of all the companions??

(when I tell you I choked on my coffee when I talked to him after confirming romance choice w/ Garrus and that 'pamphlet' and 'anaphalactic shot if ingesting-' kajsldkfjsldfjk)

Like, fuck, the fact that they actually dive into the mixed morality and horrors of the genophage, and you can confront Mordin on it, for good reason, yet he still stands his ground, until finally some bits of his loyalty mission seem to... affect him, and I'm guessing might set up things for 3 with him? Unsure, but either way, damn, the fact that they start to dig into it...

And Taliiiii my beloved forbidden alien wife TwT her loyalty mission was SO GOOD. I love how varied they all are?? Getting to defend her and discover what she'd unwittingly been a part of-!!

Zaeed is a bastard but tbh I love that he is and that he's unapologetic in him - and Kasumi omg, best thief. A heist?? Gods, yes- I love our couch lounge chats XD

Samara is..... illegally.......... she's an illegally powerful and beautiful and eloquent MILF...........................

(.... listen I'm sapphic as hell and I'm kicking my own ass for picking her up last aksjdlfksjdfl - but her loyalty mission, damn. And seeing how there's this interesting cultural subset, and the struggle with the Asari in that they unquestioningly accept/respect justicars, but also know that the impact outside their culture is a diplomacy nightmare waiting to happen-)

,.,,,,,T,,, Thane,,,,,

I am weak for morally implicated murder dads okay?? And that voice??? His mannerisms?????? How you first see him, and that prayer after assassinating her...???????? And his history/his people's history with the hanar, gods I love how messy it is, it feels so much more real!

Also Jack is a mess and I love her (and want to get her some therapy, omg), and her and Miranda nearly duking it out after you've done both their loyalty missions??? so good and makes a lot of sense-! Honestly I would love more interactions between teammates on the ship, but there's already so much the devs had to balance I can't blame 'em for minimizing, heh. But suffice to say I also love Miranda and Jacob, even if I'm softest for my alien crew XD Hell yeah Jacob, we'll get loud and spill drinks on the citadel indeed TwT

.... I could write a whole essay on how much I love Garrus oTL Perhaps because he and Tali are the throughlines from 1 on your 2 crew, I have some of the strongest feelings about them... but genuinely, he was one of my favorite companions in the first game, and how you find him as Archangel in two? Getting to help him fight his way out after he's gone nearly 48 hours straight fighting off three gangs alone, jfc. His vengeance quest and what can happen there.... That line? fuck me, that line -

It's so much easier to see the world in black and white. Grey? I don't know what to do with gray...

How DARE you come for my heart like this, devs holy shit

(also, some other choice faves so far from the series from him include We can disobey suicidal orders?? and This wasn't in my training manual... [in 1, if you have him with you @ th Thorian fight] and his whole.... pop the heat sink - in his romance ;Dc)

asdasdfksadjfkl like I said I can write an essay on him PFFF suffice to say I'm very looking forward to his romance scene and where things go in 3

But yeah gods I'm just gonna keep rambling if I'm not careful lol. Gods I don't even know what to talk about it's all so good and while I can understand people roasting the obviousness of Paragon V Renegade (v neutral) choices/alignments, I think they do a pretty damn good job in 2 of pushing it further - to the point that there were some times that I accidentally got renegade points and I wasn't that mad, haha. There's so much fun in the interactions that I just have a good time anyways~

I have so many thoughts about TIM (The Illusive Man) and Cerberus.... theories evolving galore............... and like, what the hell!! Omega 4 going to the center of the galaxy is such a cool twist, goddamn - though my heart still breaks at losing Kaiden (his line if you haven't romanced him?? about feeling like he lost a limb when he lost you??? holy shit.... but I also can't blame him for not trusting Cerberus to the point of it affecting his ability to trust Shepard... like fuck Shep go after himmmm) I'm really excited to see where that goes since he comes back in 3, and what the fuck happens with Cerberus bc while I love the fact that obviously there are a lot of people in it for the right reasons, doing good work, there are those that are doing the opposite, and I have a very bad feeling about where TIM will end up landing....

All that said though I need to do the Reaper IFF mission (where I'm lightly spoiled as to getting That Boy, but not how/what happens to make it so - just that it's apparently wise to have all your side missions done before getting him...) and the actual Omega 4 jump. So we'll see what happens and what I think about it from there heheh!

.... major kudos and genuine props if you made it here to the end, I am so sorry for not editing on condensing all this, and appreciate you so much ;w;

#night answers #night plays ME #(yes that's a purposeful pun lol)#((i sure have played myself by starting this series its so good aksdjflskjfd))

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wetalkinboutbooks · 3 years

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New Year, New Review 🤩

A Sky Beyond the Storm by Sabaa Tahir

Summary: The long-imprisoned jinn are on the attack, wreaking bloody havoc in villages and cities alike. But for the Nightbringer, vengeance on his human foes is just the beginning.

At his side, Commandant Keris Veturia declares herself Empress, and calls for the heads of any and all who defy her rule. At the top of the list? The Blood Shrike and her remaining family.

Laia of Serra, now allied with the Blood Shrike, struggles to recover from the loss of the two people most important to her. Determined to stop the approaching apocalypse, she throws herself into the destruction of the Nightbringer. In the process, she awakens an ancient power that could lead her to victory--or to an unimaginable doom.

And deep in the Waiting Place, the Soul Catcher seeks only to forget the life--and love--he left behind. Yet doing so means ignoring the trail of murder left by the Nightbringer and his jinn. To uphold his oath and protect the human world from the supernatural, the Soul Catcher must look beyond the borders of his own land. He must take on a mission that could save--or destroy--all that he knows. (Taken from Goodreads)

Our Ratings:

→ Geena: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

→ Kae: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Overall: The final instalment of the Ember Quartet had us crying in the metaphorical club. It’s exciting, terrifying, and probably the horniest book in the series and we loved it!

~Spoiler-full discussion below~

The Good:

→ Elias and Laia

Geena: In the final instalment of the Ember quartet, Sabaa deprives us of an Elias POV and slaps us with the Soulcatcher instead… He’s very much an ‘emotions are bad’ type of dude, the opposite of Elias who always had so many… but both of them are so angsty? The Soulcatcher really likes to beat up trees when his memories from when he was Elias resurface which was so emo to me. Despite being possessed by Mauth he is also such a coward, especially around Laia, because Elias’ feelings for Laia scare him and every single time he is like *running emoji*. We were surprised that Sabaa let him remain the soulcatcher for so long, every chapter I was like ‘Okay, maybe this is where Elias breaks through…’ but no.. Elias remained buried UNTIL their night in the cabin… the Soulcatcher was like ‘k I’m out’ but ONLY for ONE NIGHT and that still makes me scream.. The Soulcatcher was like ‘you kids are too horny for me, I’m gonna take a nap for a bit and let Elias take over bc Jesus.’

Despite it all, the Soulcatcher’s chapters were enjoyable albeit painful because this man was so duty bound, like even Elias wasn’t that dedicated when he was a Mask. But near the end, when we finally get the chapter that starts with Elias…. Ngl I cried a little, and immediately wanted to reread the whole series (I feel like Sabaa did this on purpose to torture us). I want to fight Sabaa though, like she did an amazing job showing how Elias’ conscious and the Soulcatcher’s conscious were constantly fighting one another, and how Elias’ memories of the people he loved ultimately fuelled the Soulcatcher’s actions… even though the Soulcatcher was like ‘I’m doing this for the ghosts’ like okay… no ghost told you to keep protecting and kissing Laia but you still did it…

Kae: Okay, so Geena summed up my boy Ilyaas pretty damn well. Also, we LOVE HIS ETHNIC NAME IN THIS HOUSE. But um, YES. Elias was a sad boy ™ the whole time while fighting his emotions and ultimately losing. It was so PAINFUL as a reader, seeing all of his chapters except the ONE say ‘Soulcatcher’. But when it finally said ELIAS again, I too, started to cry. Because he was BACK.

You can all thank the power of Laia’s determination to seduce Elias back to himself, because our girl was NOT giving up. She said ‘you gonna get this coochie, dammit’ and in the cabin, Elias was like ‘well i’ll be damned. I sure as hell am. I am BACK BAYBEEEEE’

Geena: Sabaa Tahir said horny rights like ksjdnfdsjknfsdk

Kae: AUFVAHLHVKJ. BUT YES. In the end, love won. And so did sex because everyone was doin it or TRYING to do it. I guess when the world is ending, you only get one last time to uhh…. Have a good time. So they made sure they did lmao

Now, let’s get into Laia.

Laia. My sweet little cupcake. My mug of tea with too much honey. This girl has been through literal hell and back, and yet, she kept going. She NEVER gave up. Laia woke up in book 4 like ‘Today i will commit crimes. Helene and I crave violence’ and they both just started kicking ASS and I LOVED THAT. I was really happy to see the progression of Laia and Helen’s friendship and how they genuinely grew to like one another and see each other as besties. They both deserved a girl friend and I’m glad they found a friendship within each other.

Laia is the bravest character in this damn book. She went from poor scholar, to slave, to hero and she was brave because she had to be. Laia is strong and took on their entire world. She had help, but she did a lot of it alone and that takes some real guts. She is the most genuine, sweetest, bravest girl and I love her. <3

Laia also single handedly brought the Ilyaas back from his Soulcatcher shit. During this whole book she was just like ‘You know what? I think I’mma go mess with Elias’ emo ass today to see if I can get him to kiss me or something’ THEN SHE PROCEEDED TO SHOW UP AT THIS MANS HOUSE (realm or whatever) BUTTASS NEKKID. And he saw her and immediately flew the hell out of there it was TOO MUCH and he LIKED IT but couldn’t admit it.

Geena: You know what I love about that whole scene was like earlier she was like ‘He’s a lost cause idc’ and then Darin was like ‘Elias wouldn’t give up on you if that happened’ and Laia was like ‘you’re right, he would show up stark naked and try to seduce me back to my body’ and she did just that...

Kae: SHE DID. SHE SHOWED UP AND SHOWED OUT! Like, her entire mission was to bring Elias back while also planning on taking down the Nightbringer. But she was straight up like ‘okay but not before i get my man back through SEDUCTION’. Ugh, the mango scene? Superb.

Geena: Laia is hands down one of my favourite book characters to exist. Her journey from the first book being a scared girl with a missing brother, to being the face of a revolution… like the GROWTH. Like Kae mentioned, she and Helene end up as BESTIIEESSSS, and I was surprised at how natural they seemed. Because we went from them hating each other to close friends, but despite not seeing their development, it came off so natural? So, I loved that!

Kae covered Laia’s character pretty thoroughly, she was both a horndog and a bad bitch. Like this girl has pretended to be a Slave for the Commandment to travelling a desert by herself and facing off a squad of Jinn… In retrospect, Laia is a unique case, she’s allowed to be kind and caring and doesn’t have to be a fighter type to be strong. She’s not the chosen one, which this book made clear, it could’ve been anyone to fight the Nightbringer… but only Laia was strong enough to love him AND defy him. And I just love her a lot… she was very much an anime protagonist with the power of love, family, and friendship… anyways I love her and that’s all I have to say

→ Helene

Geena: The way I ended up liking and rooting for Helene this book? Came out of left field. To be honest, in previous books I didn’t feel much for her other than ‘stop chasing after Elias and Laia pls.’ But this book I wanted her to win, especially with the fight against the germanic-esque invaders. She goes through substantial development, no longer seeing Scholars as slaves and taking their opinions seriously.. Like Laia, Musa, and Darin were all a part of her crew. A stark difference from Book 1 Helene, who thought Scholars only had one role in the world and that was slaves.

Helene… like Laia… really has the Ember equivalent of hot girl summer with Harper… all the time she spends denying it she is like *jumps on him the chance she gets*. The bath scene… Helene’s power was turning her tortuer into her MAN… But also Sabaa said that ‘yes she has changed, but she has to repent for her sins’ and that’s why Helene is basically left alone at the end (save for Laia, Elias, and Musa).

Kae: So not gonna lie, I never actually disliked Helene. I saw her as the flawed character she was in the beginning. During her cat and mouse chase with Elias and Laia in the beginning, she would piss me OFF because like, that’s your BEST FRIEEEEEND. JUST STAAAAHP. But also, it was him or her and her family's death, so I get it. But I always saw potential in her to be better. And thank GOODNESS she went through all that character development. Because she was a damn menace in the beginning.

Also like Geena mentioned; Helly and Harper finally hooking up? I swear the heavens opened up in that moment because EVERYONE could feel their tension. LIKE JUST DO IT ALREADY. You can’t fight love, baybeeee

Watching Helly grow as a person was really rewarding as a reader. Like Geena said, she went from hating scholars to being like ‘hmm, maybe my opinions are shitty?’ and straight up changed. I also feel for her because she lost her ENTIRE family and like, honestly? I would’ve given up. BUT SHE DIDN’T. She’s a literal fighter, bred for this shit. So she FOUGHT. And I was really scared she was gonna get murked because y’all know Keris’ tiny evil ass doesn’t have a chill button. And when they were fighting? I was like LAWD PLS DON’T TAKE HELLY. But instead he took Harper *upside down smiley face* SO THAT WAS FUCKED UP AND I WASN’T READY FOR IT. But a piece of me knew it was coming.

The Bad:

→ Darin and Harper

Geena: As Kae mentioned… Harper kicked the can in this book :’( His eventual fall came from loving and caring for Helene too much, which left him open and gave Keris the chance to stab him. Harper was basically Helene’s heart outside her body, and when he went down so did Helene. I had had a feeling when Book 3 ended that Harper wouldn’t make it, but I WASN’T HAPPY ABOUT BEING RIGHT FOR ONCE… Harper had finally met his brother (Elias) and hadn’t even had a chance to meet the real Elias and talk to him about their father or other sibling stuff. LIKE OF ALL CHARACTER DEATHS… AND THERE WAS A LOT… The other one that came out of left field was fucking Darin of Serra… DARIN… THE ONE DUDE WE SPENT TWO WHOLE BOOKS SAVING… DEAD WITH A SNAP OF HIS NECK!! I WAS SO MAD

LIKE SABAA HAD US THINKING HE WAS GONNA BE SAFE, SHE GAVE HIM A LIL GIRLFRIEND AND EVERYTHING BUT THEN SHE GOES.. AND KILLS HIM?? JUST LIKE THAT?? Then we had to read the scenes where Elias helps both Darin and Harper pass over into the afterlife and I was just *cries angrily*

Kae: Well, THAT was sad. Have you ever just like, felt your heart break into a million tiny irreparable pieces? That’s how I felt when Darin and Harper died. Because like, they were both trying to save the women they loved. Darin to Laia, (foolishly so against the Nightbringer) but I would do it for my little sister too. And Harper with Helene against evilass Keris. Dude, that shit just sucked. It hurt to read. It hurt to imagine the girls feeling the pain of their deaths. They were both such good men. And DARIIIN.

Darin didn’t have to go out like that, man. It was such a harsh death. No last words. It was just over and his body was just gone. I wish Laia would’ve been able to talk with him at The Waiting Place at least one last time. But it is what it is. I hated to see both of them go. Especially since Darin pretty much sparked this whole series.

Sure, Laia, Helene, and Elias were the main characters. But Darin was the spark that started the fire. And he didn’t even get to see it’s flames extinguished.

Geena: He was the ember in the ashes… literally like Sabaa uses that for Elias and Laia but it applies to Darin the most

Kae: LITCHRALLY gonna get teary eyed over here. Our boys deserved better :(

Conclusion

Geena: This was not at all a disappointing end to the series we’ve followed closely for so long. The different plot points and character arcs were tied up nicely, and Sabaa Tahir showed us once again why she’s one of the best fantasy writers on this side of the Milky Way. We didn’t even bother including a ‘The Ugly’ section because we loved it too much ksfmsd. The only qualm I’d have with the end was the empire remaining, Helene recognized the Scholars as equals but centuries of pain isn’t easily forgotten you know? SO THAT’S WHY I THINK WE DESERVE A SEQUEL SERIES… BUT I DIGRESS… OVERALL, I loved this book and the ending for all the characters ESPECIALLY FOR OUR GIRL LAIA <3

Kae: YES. I AGREE 100% WITH GEENA. It was such a beautiful end to the series. Sabaa is GENIUS and her storytelling is phenomenal. I loved every little surprise she’s hidden in all of the books. ESPECIALLY WITH COOK BEING ALIVE? I DIDN’T SEE THAT SHIT COMING AT ALL. LIKE HOLY SHIT? So Laia had some remaining family afterall, and I think that’s very sweet. I’m really sad to see the series be over with and Geena and I are both *~HOPIIIING~* for an epilogue or some little crumbs or SOMETHING with the gang and how their lives ended up into middle adulthood or something.

Geena: I would literally take a single paragraph… Ms. Tahir…. Blease…

Kae: But yes, in conclusion, Laia has a heart of gold and we LOVE HER. She’s brave and strong and smart, and was the only one out of THOUSANDS to stick for herself and defy the Nightbringer, and save the whole world. Helene has come a long way and she developed beautifully as a character. And Elias. Ohhh, Ilyaas. His continued self sacrifice and bravery and love still helped him live in the end and I think that’s beautiful.

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coldcolourchords · 3 years

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Turning 21 - an unwanted landmark

It happened an hour and 20 minutes ago, as the clock hit midnight CEST and the date changed so seamlessly to the 12th, without any hesitation, uneventfully and in complete silence, just as expected. The day I've been negatively anticipating for the better half of the past one year has come, and it caught me sitting at my computer alone in the living room, drinking hot tea on a summer night in a sweater and doing my silly little tasks that I call "work" (because despite my best efforts, middle of the night is still the only time of the day I can function as intended).

I remember ever since I was a child I always used to start mentally preparing myself for my birthday from New Year's Day. Even my mother used to say, "now that it's 2010, you're already 10 to me", even though August was still nowhere to be seen. But that felt good at the time. The beginning of a new year and my birthday approaching meant hope and progress, as the only thing I wanted as a child and as a teen was to grow up and not have to be a child anymore. I didn't like going to school, I didn't like being told to do things, I didn't like not being taken seriously, as I'm sure no one does. But by "didn't like", I mean it caused me severe emotional distress, the stuff that happened to me every single day without my control. It's hard to tell now in retrospect what caused what, but I have memories of developing my two most prominent and persistent mental disorders at around 6 years old (social anxiety and a BFRB) which have isolated me and often subjected me to cooler kids poking fun at me, shortly followed by starting school in the middle of my parent's divorce and moving houses. One of our last dinners in my father's comforting family home at the dinner table, I remember being visibly sad and my mum asking me what was wrong. My slightly belated answer ("everything") did not quite get the desired reception, as she and my little brother went on to have a little giggle over making assumptions about what that must include ("I'm sure she's sad over dinosaurs going extinct too..."). And, from then on, it's pretty much been downhill. I didn't like being home and I didn't like being at school (or at any of the million extracurricular activities my mum had picked out for me falsely thinking they could stop me from hurting myself and not just accelerate it). The ever-present social anxiety, bottled up frustration, high academic expectations and confusion about the nature of my very own self-destructive behaviours did not make for an enjoyable time in any of my 12 years at school. So, obviously, all I could do was anticipate the end. The end of being vulnerable to the very systems that were meant to nurture me and protect me.

I think that was my way of thinking all the way until I turned 19. Two years ago. At 19, I had graduated high school, I was about to start university studying something I was interested in, I had a semi-stable student job I liked and I was ready to move in with my boyfriend (a former classmate), separate from our parents. I had an artistic goal that I was ready to work for in my free time, and living away from home I was finally going to get the capacity to do so as well. And then when all of this happened and my thoughts became occupied with the new kind of responsibilities that came with "adulting", I started getting this overwhelming feeling of "what now?". A couple months have passed in the blink of an eye, it was November and I wasn't happy. I was making virtually no progress on my creative goals, my flat was a smelly mess, I didn't see my friends and I wasn't making new ones, and I found university to be draining and incompatible with my brain. I wasn't enjoying anything. I thought, "is this how I'm going to have to spend another 3 years?".

And then a miracle happened. I had to give a presentation at uni with a couple of other girls, and one of them suggested a book to do it based on. Reading my part of the book to prepare for the presentation has unlocked something in me - it was a book about the way people manage to feel like hostages due to their own decisions and thoughts. First it hurt to read because I had to face the truth: I wasn't really a hostage of expectations, university or responsibilities, I was a hostage of myself and my own attitude. I even wrote a song about this (my ultimate way of being honest with myself), and that's when I've felt ready to start working on myself in order to take back control over my life. And hell, I have done it. In a couple of weeks, I was feeling the best I've ever felt and I went into exam season thinking I was capable of the impossible at this point. Who knew I had it in me? I had gotten through a couple of exams and assignments and I was thinking soon I was going to start improving in other areas of my life as well. I was going to make art, see my friends again, go out, have fun, maybe learn to cook and be a better girlfriend too. Not a lot of that has happened. Came the end of exams and the second half of January and I was already exhausted. My job was at a halt and uni wasn't back on until mid February, so I spent a few shallow weeks at home just thinking "why am I doing this again?". It was difficult, suddenly having too much space for negative thoughts and rumination.

But it was only the start of the pandemic when my race with time has really begun. Which is ironic, because when the restrictions were first announced in my country, I really saw a lot of opportunity in them to grow for myself (and I mean this is in the least "this deadly virus is a blessing in disguise" way possible). University moving online and social gatherings being nothing short of illegal all of a sudden felt more than convenient for my social (but very luckily not health) anxiety ridden brain, and I had imagined this was going to be the most prosperous phase in my life, in terms of moving forward with my goals.

Ever since I was little, I had dreamed of becoming a musical artist. No one ever encouraged me - maybe for a good reason - and I tried to keep quiet about it as well. I was so ashamed of desiring something that was so "unlike me" according to everyone who knew me. I never had a good voice and everyone perceived me as shy, on top of being seen as more of a "STEM girl" (until I went to high school for maths and ended up not understanding any of it anymore). I'd been writing lyrics into my phone since 14 and attempting to turn them into actual songs on my laptop since 17. At 18, I even took a beginner's course in Ableton. Still, I just never felt like anything I wrote was of any worth or that I had a single ounce of talent in any part of the process. But I kept on dreaming and pushing because I thought "if I don't try, how will I know?". My work ethic was awful too, I was an inconsistent writer and an even more inconsistent producer. I never got anything finished because I got lost in the details and gave up due to my perfectionism. Plus, and this is what I perceived to be the biggest problem at the time, I could only record music at home, and my family were home all the time. Moving out, I thought I was going to prosper, then I didn't prosper for a bit, told myself it was okay because uni was making me depressed, then I continued to not prosper, told myself it was okay because I had to rest up after exams. And then it's like the universe said "Stop. You're just making excuses. Stay home and produce those songs now because there will NOT be another opportunity like this".

I put so much pressure on myself then to get stuff done. It felt like my time - all my adolescence I was looking at teenage popstars rising to fame and each year they were just getting younger and all I did was compare myself to them and worry. Worry that I was running late, that no one was going to ever care about me because I am late, but growing up I excused it every time. I was home with my family and stressed because of school all the time, duh, how could I have made good art? But right there, at the beginning of "quarantining", it was just me and my willpower. No school, no job, no impromptu social plans. And who knew how long it was going to last? Some people said only four weeks, some others said months, some the rest of the year. All I knew was I was 19, still young and practically a teenager, and I had to act. And I did. I made two of the worst songs you've heard in your life and I put them both out in the summer under my own name. Like proper released them on streaming services and all. Looking back now, holy hell, how desperate was I, posting it on my social media that people I actually knew followed? With my fear of being ridiculed? I was setting myself up for an emotional disaster. Shock horror: my songs didn't blow up (although I have had a few friends say lovely things about them, at least to me). By the time of scheduling the second one for release (mid July) I was already feeling burnt out. Yes, there was another exam season in the meantime, and the unexpectedness of the elongated pandemic has definitely been a factor as well, but generally I was just so let down by the overall underwhelming experience. I made such bad decisions - why my own full name? Why did I have to let people know and thereby handicap myself? Of course I wasn't going to promote my songs now or even speak of them positively because I feared coming off ridiculous. So I just let the whole thing pass without a sound and made myself sad. By last August, I was back to "what now?".

Needless to say, there were no festivals last summer. Festivals used to be my ultimate summer happy place and I always celebrated my birthday at a specific one (the biggest one in my city to be exact) starting with the 15th. Concerts and festivals were somehow simultaneously an adventurous escape from all my worries and the root of a lot of my confidence issues and anxiety. I dreamed of being on stage and presenting my art to the world, pouring my heart out to even just one person who will listen, the same way that I listen to my favourite artists and what they have to say. Some nights were emotional, some nights were energising, some nights were spent worrying about the people who surrounded me and some nights were just pure jealousy and feeling far away from my goals - you never knew what you were going to get at a gig. I think that overall most gigs were bittersweet experiences for me, but that's how I liked them to be. The whole point was just to feel something. But there were no festivals last year. There were concerts, though, put on by local bands, but lord do I wish there hadn't been any. I went to two of those last summer - one I went to alone and walked away feeling like shit, another I went to with my friends and felt extremely guilty and anxious about the virus after. This second one happened to be two days before my 20th birthday. I spent my birthday worried to death that I got the virus (even though numbers were extremely low at the time in my country and going to small gigs was perfectly legal and deemed not dangerous) and that I was going to infect my elderly relatives who I was going to meet with later. That didn't happen, but I haven't been to a single show since then, and it's been a year. So that's how my first non-festival birthday worked out.

Turning 20 didn't feel good and my birthday aligned with the onset of a bunch of new problems as well as old ones accelerated. I began to think deeply about everything. What was the point of anything I was doing? Was any of it going to get me anywhere? Was any of it causing me joy, even? I didn't know what to do about my musical efforts - should I keep trying to put out songs or admit defeat? I still had that creative drive in me and I worried so much about my role in the world - "I'm not a good friend, not a good girlfriend and not a good daughter, and I certainly will never become a good psychologist directly helping people with their problems. I need to give something to the world - I need to find a purpose". I didn't do stuff because I was anxious, and then I was anxious because I didn't do stuff. But I think at that point I also realised I didn't only want to succeed and produce. I also wanted to live. Having fun was missing from my life too. I rarely saw or talked to friends and my relationship wasn't going well either. Every day I tortured myself looking at other people live their lives on social media and thinking to myself I wanted what they had. I wanted to be someone. I wanted to create, to connect and to matter, but all of these things have only ever caused me anxiety in my life and I didn't know where to go from there.

With the virus getting worse again and the start of another online semester, there was one silver lining to locking myself in again though. During the pandemic, I have been playing a lot of video games, possibly even more than before. They weren't only a nice way to numb my brain and relax - no, the opposite, they were actively giving me a temporary sense of direction and progress with each gaming session. I have always loved The Sims for this reason, I had spent so many years building and perfecting my little worlds to my liking and practicing full control over my characters' lives, but this time I began to feel like it was something bigger. I discovered the Sims side of the internet, something I had not really done before, and the amount of content, help, info and Sims-related entertainment has blown me away. Whole new levels of playing have been unlocked for me and I began to dive deeper than ever. I wanted to be part of the community, so in the autumn I started streaming the game on Twitch and this time I knew better than to tell anyone I already knew about it. That didn't quite turn out as I expected, and my streamer phase was cut short in January by someone I knew from high school accidentally finding my stream. Before that, I would only get moderately anxious before streams, not worried much about what viewers were going to think of me (if they find me annoying they'll just leave and I'll never have to hear from them again), but then that unexpected turn of events ruined everything in my head. All my confidence I had built up was suddenly gone. I never streamed again after that. It wasn't really for me anyway, I told myself.

Instead, insistent on further pursuing the only thing that was giving me joy at the time, I started my YouTube channel initially uploading Sims tutorials, because I thought I had useful stuff to show people that has a greater chance of making someone happy than just watching me try to put together a sentence for 5 minutes straight while my Sims struggle to get in the shower by themselves. And much to my surprise, it was gaining decent traction, although I put a lot of it down to luck even today. But either way, it's been growing more or less consistently ever since, and beginning of the summer I stopped to think "could I not just be doing this for a living now?". "Could this be my new creative ambition?". As much as I would have liked to say yes based on my progress and how I managed to earn the same amount I would have earned in a month at my part-time retail job (we're talking Eastern European sums kids!), it wasn't that simple. Thoughts around this have of course been puzzling me for months now. I like to think of myself as a natural talker, just because I am anxious I am NOT quiet or shy. I can even make small talk very well, it's just that because I'm mortified by the possibility of an awkward silence I tend to avoid situations where it might be required. And I talk to myself all the time. So on paper, talking to a camera should not be an issue. And yet every time I record a video I feel my soul being sucked out of my body because I need to make sure I say every sentence correctly and that ends up in draining 4 hour recording sessions. Editing videos, on the other hand, is a rewarding process, a kind of flow-experience I have not really known before, though extremely long and usually detrimental to my sleep schedule (which is far from being rosy by default). Maybe I just put too much effort into everything, but it really makes you question - is it worth it? Can I really be doing this on the long run without destroying myself? And will I ever get used to the social interactions that come with it?

It's weird, suddenly getting recognition for something, people giving me positive feedback on the daily. This certainly happened more suddenly than I thought it would and I don't think I was prepared. Naturally, people taking the effort to leave me nice comments and messages makes me want to reply, appreciate their kindness and return the favour but the trinity of little demons inside me - social anxiety, impostor syndrome and a chronically low self-esteem - makes this a difficult task to complete. To combat the overwhelming weight of responsibility that comes with making sure I appreciate everyone who appreciates me enough, as well as to shut out the fear that what I have now can be taken away from me any second, I have built up a mental wall between me and my relative success. This wasn't a conscious choice, it's just the way my brain has started dealing with this new situation. I do not allow myself to internalise the rewards of what I work so hard for and that contributes to why, when I look back on 2021 so far, all I see is depression despite having "gotten what I wanted". My YouTube channel has been the only thing bringing hope and the only thing I've got going for me and yet I am incapable of embracing it.

The past one year has been enlightening. It has enlightened me that there must be something deeply wrong with me because I have not been able to enjoy life even at times I had all the reasons to. The times I am capable of letting go and feeling happy for short periods come exactly based on that - short periods. I'm drifting into states of bliss only when I know the situation is temporary and doesn't come with commitment and responsibility. Some of these moments of calmness come to me while walking to the store by myself after dark, getting invested in my video games, meeting up with my friends for an evening every once in a while and writing a therapeutic song just for myself using the simplest chords on the piano. The feeling usually doesn't last and disappears at the first attempt to get back to any kind of organised schedule (that attempt on most days is the simple act of trying to force myself to go to bed). Isn't that ironic? I wanted purpose. I wanted to get it together. And yet... every day is a struggle. I know now, I am the problem. Whether it's a chemical imbalance or another anomaly in my brain or my own fault somehow, it's not my circumstances, it's me. I wanted to be free and to make my life my own, and now I just can't. Every day I worry about running out of time, rapidly approaching death and not being able to say that I have lived. This is why turning 21 fills me with so much panic. I am no longer a child and I'll never be again, although I wouldn't even like to be. I just can't help thinking that I wasted so many opportunities to enjoy myself and to push for my goals. But it's gone now and there's no point regretting how I used to think about life back then. If I look back on my life so far I see a lot of stuff that happened that made half of my brain temporarily happy, but the other half was always filled with anxiety, anticipation to get out or dissatisfaction. It was just never fully right and I keep hoping that there will come a time when it will feel fully right. Before turning 19, I thought independence was going to give me that. Now at 21, I'm not quite sure there's anything that's going to give me that if I don't also start to work through every single one of my issues (although part of me still likes to cling onto the idea that once I'm done with my first and last degree, a lot of underlying stress and guilt will be taken off my shoulders and I'll see everything in a different light). So for a start, I just finally signed up for psychological counselling. I don't know if it will help but it's something and I've done it for myself. I need to do more for myself.

There is so much more I could talk about. Like the pandemic, how I've turned into a hermit, my relationship, struggling to be honest with myself and slowly losing touch with my all time number one passion because of it. I could talk about how I know that society has been deliberately making us (especially women) feel scared of aging and yet I still file it under personal issues, how I've been trying to fix my sleep schedule for a year and a half straight now, the guilt I feel from my family and friends all the time, my inability to concentrate and how I fall into despair concerning the future and present of humanity every time I read the news and people's opinions on social media. I could talk about how I want to cry every time I see a picture of somewhere beautiful in the world - a street in Japan, a lake in the Alps or the trees in the Mediterranean - because I feel a longing that is almost nostalgic for places I've never even visited. There is always so much to still be told to complete the story, but why do I want people I'll never fully know to understand me that well? I need to let go of compulsions like these.

Deep down I just hope that I'm not the only one terrified of growing old.

#21 #happy birthday to me #long story long #welcome to my brain #aging #depression #anxiety #growing up #growing old #young adulthood

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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The Three Caballeros Movie Review: Rejoice Now Donald’s Been Laid (Commission)

It’s time at long last we talked about those three happy chappies in snappy serapes. Who say so? @weirdkev27 say so! He’s planning on funding an ENTIRE retrospective on the boys, so in addition to my Tom Lucitor Retrospective (Expect that to return very soon as one of the episodes in it is time sensitive), Road to Just Us Justice Ducks, and look at “The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck”. I’m proud to announce a new recurring feature on this blog “The Ride of the Three Caballeros!”, a look back at these birds of a feather who flock together and their wild and wonderful history cumulating in “The Legend of The Three Caballeros”. Honestly I thank Kev for the idea as it’s a damn good one. Ever since seeing them on House of Mouse, which I both really need to cover and Disney needs to add already as we’re a year into Disney plus already, I’ve loved Jose and Panchito, and reading barks story years ago, and again recently, gave me a lasting love of these goofs. They have great snappy designs are the rare pre-ducktales 2017 non duck bird character, and have wonderful personalities. There’s nothing not to love and thus nothing not to love about covering their adventures. So i’m excited for this and not just for the much needed christmas money. Naturally we’re starting the adventure here with the founding of the trio, though Kev, for now he could change his mind, choose to start with this movie instead of it’s predecessor Saludos Amigos, on this date for two reasons. The first is it’s Friday the 13th, which besides being the basis for an utter classic of a Hey Arnold episode

Which yes for those unfamiliar with Hey Arnold features Arnold dealing with a spell of bad luck, some bullies and his grandmother dressing up wlike a black cat to rescue black cats, which is sweet.. and training them into her horrifying army of the damned, which is somehow still sweet as it is awesome. It’s also the day this guy barges into my house thinking it’s camp crystal lake

I swear to gods Jason GET A FUCKING PHONE WITH GPS. We are not clearly not teenagers. And he’s always so embarrassed and the stab wounds always take so long at the hospital to treat. It’s just a mess. But it’s also, according to this film Donald’s BIrthday! This was during an earlier point in his career, that will be important in a bit, so Disney hadn’t yet settled on their tradition of having their characters birthday’s being the same date as their first appearance. For the record that would make Donald and Della’s current birthday June 7th. I did a special on Donald Duck shorts for it this year. Not sure what i’ll do the next. We will see. And for fun and my own curiosity I looked up the birthdates of some of the other Ducktales castmembers as well as my boys here They are:

Jose: August 24th (World Premier of Saludos Amigos) Panchito: December 21st (The Mexico City Premiere Date for this very movie) Scrooge: November 14th (Thank you INducks seriously it’s a massive help with this. Daisy: June 7th (Debut of Mr. Duck Steps out) Huey, Dewey and Louie: October 17th (First appearance in Donald’s Newspaper Strip) Webby, Beakley and Launchpad: September 18th, thanks to launchpad’s driver’s license as well as all three characters debuting in the opening arc. Though to separate them i’d likely try to find different dates for both. For now i’m going with October 12th for Mrs. Beakly (The airing date for the Ducktales 87 ep maid of myth) and October 29th for Webby (the airing date for another 87 episode, this one about webby and a horse). Gladstone: August 15th, as while it was released in january there is no firm release date for it. Plus a summer birthday fits him better anyways. Thank you Inducks for that. Magica: September 28th, finally a firm publication date. While there’s a creation date unlike Gladstone I see no need to use it. Darkwing Duck/Drake Mallard: September 6th GLOMGOLD: July 26th Was that entirely necessary? No Would I do it again.. absolutely. It also means I really need to do something for Scrooge’s Birthday in two days. But that’s future me’s problem. Current day me has his own problems specifically a movie review to continue. The films genesis was a in a good will tour Disney did in South America, as part of America’s Good Neighbor Policy. FDR started it in order to try and strengthen ties between Latin America and North America, to prevent any sort of war with our close neighbors and to foster good economic ties between both as well as integrate Latin culture into americans lives to make them care about those countries more. And given it was started as HItler’s rise to power grew, and America knew they’d inevitably be dragged into World War II, and thus wanted to put the kibosh on several Latin American’s Nazi Ties. So in exchange for Money, since Disney was struggling due to overextending itself and the big animator’s strike at the time, The US sent Walt and some of his animatiors to South America, where MIckey Donald and Goofy were big and to make a film based there. Hence we got Saludos Amigos which is .. kind of forgettable to be honest, though the Gaucho Goofy segment is fantastic as the “How to” shorts with goofy around the time usually were. But the film gave us Jose, hence why Donald and him are familiar with each other here, and was a moderate success. This lead to the Goverment, who’d already contracted a bunch of propaganda, one of which I covered in my Donald Duck Shorts Birthday Marathon because it contained prototypes for Gladstone and Scrooge, so another feature for South America was a win win: The US got another way to strengthen ties between the Americas, and Disney got a film they could put out during said war to lift spirits, as well as on that would likely be a hit in South America due to them not being under wartime money crunch or the misery of having a war looming overhead. As a side note. I found out after looking at the wikpiedia article on The Good Neighbor Program.. it eventually and sadly collapsed as the US post WWII shifted to the Cold War and thus threw away non interference if it meant beating the Russians. Classy. So yeah.. this film and i’ts predecessor are technically propaganda pictures. There was also another disney full length propoganda picture about fighter jets, I only learned about this thanks to the slashfilm article I found on the movie that told me a lot of this in the first place. It’s not avaliable but it should be.. though at the very least unlike say House of Mouse, Wander Over Yonder, Penn Zero: Part Time Hero, American Dragon Jake Long, The Weekenders, Pepper Anne and MANY more, it’s absence from Disney + makes sense. And I will continue to bitch about this till Disney actually starts adding more legacy animated shows, or at least makes a few of it’s own, though I will concede reviving the Mickey Mouse shorts that Disney Channel started up is a VERY good first step and i’m sure What If and Proud Family: Louder and Prouder will be fine. I just want more animation content on the streaming platform of one of the biggest animation studios in the world with one of the most storied histories. I’m REALLY not asking a lot.

That bit of bitching aside I will give Disney+ credit where it’s due. The service offers MOST of the Disney vault for a very reasonable price a month, in crisp HD, and thus allows someone like me, who hasn’t really dived into the disney vault and slept on watching three cabs despite borrowing it from some friends, to dive into beautiful animation like this any time. It also allows me to explore disney’s older films, the ones I want to anyway, at my leisure and it’s a REALLY nice feeling. It’s also nice to have all the various animated shows in nice clean copies. So while there are sizeable gaps in the library, many of which as highlighted above have no reason for not being there and some like Song of the South have DAMN GOOD reason for never being there, I still apricate the service for being a vast, glorious digital library of Disney content as well as stuff they’ve acquired like the marvel show library, and this review would not have been as easy to do without it. So with my opinions on D+ and the exposition for WHY this exists out of the way, as I couldn’t find much else on this flim’s background, join me after the read more for a full review of the film! Who says so? I says so!

We open with.. the Disney+ content warning again. In my review of the last part of “Catch as Cash Can” I went on about how much I apricated it and it stands: while i’m not blind that it’s a blanket statement to cover disney’s rears, it’s still apricated for them to care enough to force the content warning on the viewer. Given how bad they usually are at falling on the right side of history, this is very admirable. Though thankfully this film isn’t as offensive as the last content warning I got for the last part of “Catch as Cash can” aka “Watch registered White Guy Hamilton Camp play a bad indian sterotype for 22 minutes while my soul slowly dies”. Here there are bits, which i’ll get to now to save me the trouble later: The Littlest Gaucho’s side characters are all drawn pretty carcturish and a bit cringe inducing. The other is of course Panchito our Mexican representative.. who wears a sombrero and shoots two pistols around. And there’s just a tinge of white man going ot another country to get laid with the way Donald behaves throughout the picture. Basically little touches here and there but nothing that spoils the picture overall or makes whole scenes unwatchable. Still worth having the warning up, but not worth getting too worked up over. So onto the film itself and as mentioned i’ts Donald’s birthday! And I will say the film has lots of great little gags here and there.. I won’t be pointing all of them out because this film was 70 minutes long but their very charming. HIs first gift is a projector and screen.. which he naturally has to fight to get working and which first projects on his ass, already a good start. And a general thought I like is how receptive Donald is to soaking in another culture. He just seems joyusly enthralled by the various films, gifts and places his friends bring him..

But again we’ll get to that. Point is it’s very nice to see Disney portay learning about another culture so positively and with such a hot head as donald. Even if i’ts in part to appease the US Goverment, ther’es a genuine feeling that they truly fell in love with these countries and aren’t JUST shilling them because it’s in their contract, but because they genuinelly liked it there. So with that we get to our first segment. See the film is one of Disney’s Package films, anthology films taking a bunch of short segments and pasting them together, but here it’s framed through the narrative of DOnald’s birthday, so there is KIND of a plot.. but it’s mostly an excuse for musical numbers, short films, and more musical numbers.

Dammit Elmo, we will get to it! So naturally i’l lbe dividing up this review into various pieces. First up...

1. The Cold Blooded Penguin: Life of Pablo, The Good Version This is a brief but endearing short about a Penguin named Pablo who dosen’t like cold weather, can relate, and wants to move to some tropical paradise, again can relate. It’s BARELY related to the theme of hte movie, celebrating Central and South America, but it’s so damn charming I can’t help but love it. And Pablo is so damn adorable, as are his friends. I mean look at him.

He’s just so precious and you just want him to finally get to his paradise with the help of his friend, his boiler there smokey joe, and root for him as his farewell party dwindles from a bunch of penguins to just bob and gary here.

I may love Gary, the tall one, more than I love Pablo honestly> His sad eyes or the way he’s the ONLY one who sticks it out to the end, seeing Pablo off at last. Pablo’s first attempts, going without his boiler, which just ends iwth him freezing and attempting to carry smokey joe on his back both fail, he eventually decides to go with a boat and cleverly simply saws the ice berg he’s on so it’ll drift with his house and possessions, and has Gary hit it with a bottle both to christen it and to send it flying. Plus having bags on the bags on my eyes myself, I can relate to their tired expressions. As can we all after this year. Just a month and a half and it’s finally blessedly over.

Pablo makes his way through, finally finding his island only to nearly have his iceberg melt before he gets there. But he persevers and gets his paradise, even adorably eating a banana> Though it ends on a mealoncholy yet still funny note of Pablo missing home even though he has a pet turtle/butler now. Man I want one of those. One final note is that the short is narrated greatly by Sterling Holloway.. aka the future WInnie The Pooh using that exact voice which while a little weird in hindsight, just makes the short that more adorable if you imagine Pooh is reading a story to you. Just a really damn cute short with some good and intentive gags, and penguins. I mean i’ll be honest I have a soft spot in my hart for those tudeoxed boys thanks to the comic strip BLoom County and it’s lead character Opus taking up a LOT of real estate in my heart and brain. Here’s a few samples of him just so you get why.

Just a sweetheart. Though his honker would grow exponenitally with time. And once get grabbed by a card carrying MAGA asshole. But I can talk about my boy here and this strip again another day. Point is I may love pengies but even that aside this is a good short and a good way to start things off. Sadlly the pacing then lops out a bit as the next two bits aren’t QUITE as entertaining.

2. Birds Birds Birds: Of Arcuan BIrds and Toucan Sex Donald then watches a film on birds, and i’ts basically just a bunch of short funny gags with various tropical birds. There are a FEW notable bit sin the short, and I will get to them now, but otherwise it’s just okay.. not great but not exactly memorable. I honestly forgot there was anything BUT the Arcuan bird in this bit. Speaking of which A) The Arcuan Bird, a hyperactive pink little guy who makes a little “yatatata” noise, and boops donald a bit and later shows up in the film to steal Jose’s Cigar. Easily the most entertaining part of this section and there’s a reason why he became a massive fan faviorite, as well as got a more expanded roll in Legend of the Three Cablleros. He’d also apparently later return for another Package Film. What a bird. B) There’s a bit with Toucans, which I remember because I freaking love Toucans, the big colorful beaks look neat contrasted with their black and white bodies and they seem friendly and the one fictional one besides Toucan Sam I can rmemeber is Tuca of Tuca and Bertie. Nuff said. And because they mention the Tucan’s making love. First off this is how a Tucan makes love.

And secondly, clealry the term has evolved considerably, but it’s still chuckle inducing to have that term in a disney movie, especially since it makes me think of a number of things most notably this.

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Which, fun fact, is the song that will likely be sung when Donald and Daisy finally have sex in the Ducktales Reboot. Della didn’t buy those choir robes for nothing. Though the joke here is simply that they can’t kiss because they have big noses. GET IT. Though I have seen incompatable noses end marriages.

See I told you his honker got bigger. Okay onto the 3rd thing from this bit.

C) The Flamingos, who retract into themselves while Donald adorably copies. What a boy. With that I can move on from this segement thankfully and onto... an even worse one!.. wait...

3. The Littlest Gaucho: The Boring One This one’s a leftover from Saludos Amigos, likely because that one already had a Gaucho Bit with goofy and because it’s not very good. But Disney was strapped for cash so use everything you got. And yes I advocated for using everything in my review of life and times part 1.. but that’s more for a shared universe and left “Oh hey I found this short in our garbage let’s put it in another movie to save money” way. I appreciate being cheap, I myself am unemployed and right now these reviews are my source of income, but you could’ve just you know.. let the film be shorter? You didn’t have to waste animation leading inito this bit. This one is the story of a young boy, as narrated by his older self who can somehow see through the veil of time and yell at his younger self. How?

But it dosen’t really help the story as i’ve seen far better interactive narrators and ones clearly editing history. Especially since, despite ending on a VERY sour note, How I Met Your Mother was a pro at this. It’s not the film’s fault, but even back int he 40′s I swear they could do this better.

It’s the simple story of the little Gaucho finding a flying Donkey, befriending him, and then entering him in a jockey race which they win. There’s one or two good gags here, but it dosen’t have the cutness of the previous segments and only one or two good gags. It just feels like filler and if I watch the film again, which I probably will, I will fast forward past this. Thankfully after this we finally get a break.

4. A Song For Bahia: They call him JOSEEEEEEEEE.. and he’s Donald

Jose enters! Donald’s next gift is a book from Brazil that’s smoking..mostly because so’s Jose. The two friends reunite, with Jose in a story book asking Donald about , what I assume is Jose’s home state of Bahia, one of Brazil’s 20 states and spelled Baia in this movie for some reason. We then get an absolutely beautiful sequence of Jose’s voice actor singing about Bahia and showing off how beautiful the country is through gorgeous animation. It’s a really marvelous segment and really pretty to look at. And once that segment’s done the film starts to pick up in energy, though unlike the Gaucho segment, the Bahia song is actually good.

5. Os Quindins de Yayá: The Sleeper Has Awakened.. and by the sleeper I mean Donald’s Penis. There’s a few bits here. We start with the wonderful song, “Have You Ever Been to Bahia?”.. which is almost entirely Jose asking that to donald who says no, with some fun mindscrewy animation.. the film has not BEGUN to mindscrew, but we’ll get to that.

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Also for this segment Jose apparently has Jamie Madrox powers.. or he’s from Cragg.. either way, Donald hasn’t been to Baia so let’s go. The boys take a train, the Arucan messes things up again, etc etc and soon their in Baia where two major aspects of the film show up: Blending Live action with animation, and Donald being really horny. It’s not to a creepy degree outside of one segment, we’ll get there, but Donald being really into live action women is a major part of three segments of this film. If your wondering while Daisy had debuted, she wasn’t the ETCHED IN STONE, presence she’d become for Donald. Which I don’t have a problem with, I love them in Ducktales 2017, their one of the few tolerable aspects of the quack pack’s i’ve watched, and they were great in House of Mouse. I”m just saying some works don’t really have her around in them (Donald’s spy and papernik adventures), while other more charming and eligible women are, while others have her as outright abusive (Legend of the Three Caballeros). I’m not against Donsy when done properly, again huge fan of the Ducktales 2017 version of the couple, I just dont’ think it has to be mandatory. The fact the Italian comics made Donald a fairly likeable alien queen as a love interest proves it.

But yeah here Donald’s thirsty as fuck, can relate, and thus we get our next musical number.. and that blend of live action and animation. I will admit, especially on second viewing.. it’s pretty obvious their mostly using a green screened animated backdrop with the charcters on it. The other segments are much more integrated. That being said.. i’m perfectly fine with it, as Disney was on a really low budget, only able to get financing for package films like this since their main financer wouldn’t given them money for anything but shorts, so it was a workaround, not to mention having a mass talent exodus over the strike and World Fucking War II to contend with. So cheeping out on ONE segment in a large film, and STILL having it come out good is fine just fine. And it truly does, the segment centers around Yaya, a cookie seller and the object of Donald’s affections, though he gets mad when a guitar man slips in and woos her instead for a bit before eventually leaving her alone, with Donald getting a kiss. But while parts of that clearly haven’t aged well, it’s an utterly joyous and fun musical number in an already fun musical, and Aurora Miranda who plays Yaya, and is sister of Carmen Miranda something Disney actually put in promotional materials.... come to think of it I didn’t watch the trailer.. I’ll get to it in a moment. Point is, Miranda is very talented and it’s VERY fun number. Have a listen since the sequence itself is WAY to long to put video of up on youtube.

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And having watched the trailer during that music break, it’s not bad, I expected more cringe. The most I got was them calling the women “latin american lovlies” which.. seems.. wrong. But with the romance of Bahia setting and Donald dragged out by Jose, we can get into our next segement as, over halfway in, we finally get our third Cabllero

6. The Three Cablleros: Who Say So? We Say So!

HERE COMES THE PANCHITO Ladies and Gentleman and Others! HERE COMES THE PANCHITO! the moment you’ve been waiting for! HERE COMES THE PANCHITO! the pride of Mexico! HERE COMES PANCHITO! Panchito Pistoles!

When then meet Panchito who joyfully shoots guns around, because stereotype but thankfully he’s also joyful, jubilant and likeable much like his pal Jose. Panchito’s just a thoughtly likeable character and next to his smooth talking pal, it’s easy to see why the two became huge fan favorites. And thus we get our title track.

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IT’s a beautiful, fun segment, that while some portions, such as Panchito’s yelling or “some Latin baby’ haven’t aged particularly well, is still a fun colorful number with amazing music and great gags, that utterly sells our boys camaraderie. I have no notes, ten out of ten flawless classic number. Who Say So? I SAY SO! Also given both boys kiss Donald at some point.. yeah these boys are bi as fuck and damn i’ts awesome.

7. Mexico: Bored Again, Naturally. Donald then gets a pinata and we get a short story about a bunch of kids going around to places only to be told “no shelter no posada”. Like the Gauchito bit.. it’s pretty boring and nonconesquential and only gets a leg up due to being far shorter and a little adorable versus not really as adorable as the segement thinks it is. The kids end up at a party with a pinata. We do get a fun sequence after this nothing of a story of Donald batting a pinata around while the boys mess with him a bit. It’s fun stuff. Out of the PInata we get another storybook, and another slow segement of Panchito singing about mexico which is a less fluidly animated, and thus far less entertaining, version of the Bahia song.. diffrent song, same premise of a bird melodically and beautifully singing about his home land, but less engaging because it’s just still images. I get they were low on budget but while I can forigve that for the Yaya sequence.. this one.. I just can’t as they not only already did this, but did it less good the second time around. The song is lovely though, and I do miss a time in our culture when we looked at Mexico with fondness and didn’t have a FAR too large portion of our population think anyone from there should go back where they came when they come to our brave country to find shelter, aslym and opportunity just because they didn’t go through “proper channels’ even though that’s difficult. WHat i’m saying is fuck our immigration policy for the last 4 years, and bless the president-elect for planning to fix that ASAP. I felt it was worth mentioning in a review ABOUT a Mexican character who, in the reboot, is an immigrant to America.

8. Everybody Dance: Another fun number.

We’re onto Mexico and it’s time for another musical number

So our heroes dance, Donald hits on some more women.. stuff we’ve seen before but it’s still a fun beautiful song and unlike the last bit while the animation has clearly aged enough to be more obvious, it still looks great next to the various live action dancers and blends real well. A fun time that gives us more great music and another reminder from donald that...

I mean I get being thirsty as shit, again can relate.. but the next segment takes it from Donald and the Boys being kinda horny to.

9. The Beach: Donald Gets Creeptacular

Yeah this bit is .. less endearing. The boys fly the serape over to a beach, and divebomb the girls, which isn’t a sex act.. that i’m aware of. But yeah chasing around several women, and donald leaving the Serape to chase them around old beach movie/benie hill/trying my patience style. It’s cringe is what i’m saying as a man literally chasing a woman around is considered flirtitng here and that’s all kinds of EUGGGGHHHH. The previous segments had Donald be kind of respectful in his woman chasing: while he was pretty horny, he also tipped his hat, flirted a bit, asked to dance you know, normal shit.. not decided “let’s chase them with a serape that will turn them on!’ jesus.. yeah not much to say here either just.. really creepy. But we have not reached peak horny donald yet.. oh no.

10. Donald’s Surreal Revere: WHAT EXACTLY THE FUCK.

Dora Luz appears in the sky of Mexico after the boys exit the book and flip to Mexico’s night life... just go with hit and Donald swoons over her before joining her int he book and after getting a kiss from her and swooning over her.. has an acid trip. I .. I don’t know how else to describe Donald’s surreal reverie. It’s clear Walt just told the animators do whatever. I will TRY to describe this sequence as best I can, but I make no promises except what I describe is exactly what happened, see for yourself.

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Okay so after Dora’s magical floating kisses, just go with it, kiss donald he explodes, in a rocket blast clearly symbolizing his errection, then becomes a neon sign and a hummingbird, just go with it, tries to kiss Dora’s image appearing on a flower, then Jose and Panchito BURST out of the flower with tiny chipmunk voices and gun violence, a SCREAMING TECHNICOLOR TRANSTION, dora singing the song in the middle of a flower again , donald making out with the flower but it turning out ot be panchito with a giraffe neck saying “Some fun eh kid?”, donald falling through a sea of ladies, donald chasing the ladies on a serape. Donald’s disembodied head looking at the ladies before bursting out of the picture to chase them GOOD GOD DID WE NEED MORE OF THAT?! The boys ending up on female bodies and them some sort of horse abomination. Then we get into what must of inspiried a young david Lynch as donald kisses the flower agian, then ends up in one as they replay a creepy whispery recording of either Jose or Panchito saying pretty girls while we see still images of the girls from the beach. Hummingbird Flower Donald then has a romantic duet with a lady because WHY NOT at this point, then multiple donalds before he spins away. We get one last number with donald dancing with living cacti that turn into mini donald’s that’s slightly more sane and finally this bit is done. IN conclusion.

I just.. I have no words. The giant mess of text up there should explain it and I purposfully didn’t divy it up as i’ve been trying to do more often, as it deserves to be one long string of nonsense. I just.. it’s beautiful to look at but what the hell was that. Is this going to happen every time Donald and Daisy have sex? Is this what Donald’s brain is like all the time? Did Panchito inject him with pure liquid acid?

So yeah we thankfully conclude the film after that with

14. The Wrap UP The boys horse around with a bull and then heartwarmingly watch fireworks together.. there isn’t much to add it’s jsut fun to watch and a nice pallete cleanser after loosing my sanity. Isn’t that right keith david?

You always say that! So...

Final Thoughts: I’ve made my thoughts on the various segments clear, but what of the film as a whole? As a whole.. it’s pretty fun. Is it the best film Disney’s Produced? probably not. But it’s a fun, brisk 70 minutes, hampered by a few slow spots and some weird horny bits, and various segments feel like an acid trip despite having never taken acid. But our boys easlly anchor the surreality and thirst and all three have great chemistry both comedically, friendship wise and romantically. It’s also very easy to see why this film and it’s cablleros got big in Mexico and Brazil as the film seems like a love letter to both, and is fairly respectful. WHich for the time, sex tourism aside, is pretty damn inspried. So yeah in conclusion, this is a really fun memorable film, it was even better on a second watch and it’s an enjoyable colorful reminder of Disney’s package film era, which I might dig into a bit.. I just may have to borrow a copy of make mine music.. guess what just got added to my list of “why the fuck isn’t this on disney plussss?”

Regardless this was a fun review and auspcious start to the ride of the Cablleros. if you’d like to comission your own movie or tv review, hit up my ask box or submit box or shoot me an ask to get my discord. You can also join my patreon, patreon.com/popculturebuffet, Until then you can check this space for the various ongoing series mentioned and regular Ducktales coverage every monday. Until then, Adios, with a christmas message from my personal fourth Cabllero

#the three caballeros #donald duck #panchito pistoles #jose carioca #bahia #mexico #donsy #opus the penguin #bloom county #ducktales #aurora miranda #disney #disney plus #disney +#disney+#comissions #ride of the three cablleros

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offspring-of-calliope · 4 years

Text

Oneshot #2: Three times someone checked out Darcy’s ass and the one time he didn’t mind it

Description: A crackfic based on this post I made a few days ago. Basically what it says in the title and it plays during the canon era. The main pairing is BillDarcy.

words: 1645

A/N: To be honest, I don’t even know what this is, I just suddenly had this idea yesterday when I originally wanted to write the little idea for a Jojo/Elmer-Oneshot I have in my head. But hey, if there are things I’m good at, it’s procrastinating and doing things wrong, so here we are. As always, it’s possible that there are mistakes regarding grammar and spelling (I checked for them but since English isn’t my first language I might have forgotten something). It would be nice if you left a comment.

I hope you enjoy,

Sincerely, me,

Lélodie

—–

Darcy hated puberty. Pimples were scattered all over his face and a few days ago, his mother had helped him trying to figure out how to shave his face without cutting himself. Still, there were some leftovers of an incision on one of his cheeks.

The worst thing was that he hadn’t even had something that he could have called a ‘beard’. But he had overheard some of his classmates talking about the positive effect of having a beard – looking more mature and therefore having a better chance with the ladies they wanted to court. Darcy himself didn’t want to court a lady, yet he always wanted to look more mature so that his father might stop treating him a like little child. So, after a lot of insistence on his part, his mother had helped him with the soft hairs over his upper lip and on the sides of his face and he regretted it.

He was attending some important event, where all the influential persons in the world of newspapers were gathered. And he was there with a bright red face, full of signs of imperfections.

“Look at that fancy new suit! Darcy, puberty’s starting to grow on you.”

Startled, Darcy turned around and was promptly hugged by one of his best childhood friends, Katherine Pulitzer. “Kathy, I’m glad you could make it,” he said, quickly hugging her back.

Katherine freed herself from the embrace. “I couldn’t leave you guys alone with all these people now, could I? But back to what I said, when did your ass get this gorgeous? Or is it just the suit?”

Darcy choked on his own spit. He was always surprised by Katherine’s bluntness. A blush spread out over his whole face as he truly realised what she had said and he made an embarrassed sound. “My ass is the same as always, thank you very much. The only thing that’s changing is the constellations of pimples on my face.” He grimaced.

“Uh, how poetic. Maybe you want to write my next article, then I’ll have a lot more free time.”

“Kathy, I’m having a serious problem here.” Darcy threw a glance at the people surrounding them, making sure they were out of earshot. Then, he whispered, “How can I face Bill when my face looks like I’ve been burned by the sun, over and over again?”

Katherine was the only one who knew of his infatuation with Bill – his other childhood friend. She had also been the one who had helped him overcoming his long phase of self-hatred because he was falling in love with another boy. At first, there had been all these thoughts like: “It’s wrong. Two boys can’t love each other.” But when Katherine had told him that she as well did like people the same gender as hers, he had felt a lot better. He wasn’t the only one. He wasn’t hurting anyone. So why should he be ashamed of who he loved?

“Don’t worry, Darce. I think it looks cute. And if he doesn’t like it, you can always show him your ass.” Katherine winked.

Again, Darcy blushed. “What’s it with you and my… butt?”

Katherine just shrugged inscrutably and led him to the buffet.

When they met Bill, he didn’t mention the pimples. He also didn’t mention that Darcy’s suit was apparently too tight around his ass. He had only brought life to the butterflies in Darcy’s stomach when he had constantly readjusted Darcy’s glasses and therefore brushed his skin from time to time.

II.

A soft breeze was caressing Darcy’s hair as he and Katherine wandered along the streets of New York, arm in arm. Katherine was going on about some vaudeville show she had to review that night, until they came across the Newsboys’ lodging house. A smile appeared on her face as they watched some kids dancing around, presumably on their way to the circulation gate. Darcy knew how she admired these kids that had nothing and still seemed to be so happy to at least have each other.

Since the kids weren’t walking really fast, Katherine and Darcy caught up with them and Darcy rolled his eyes as one of the boys started flirting with Katherine. It was always like this. Katherine was a beautiful girl and therefore, she caught the attention of many boys on the street. But only some of them mustered up the courage to actually speak to her.

Trying to suppress a sigh, Darcy let his gaze wander and couldn’t help but notice some boys passing them while the presumable leader flirted with Katherine. He blinked. Had he just imagined it or were two of the boys checking him out? He lowered his head, not daring to look back at them and not really listening to Katherine’s conversation.

He took a deep breath, fiddled with his hands and eventually glanced back at the two boys he had noticed. He nearly let out a surprised gasp as he caught one of the boys checking out his ass once again. A blush crept up his neck. The boy noticed him looking back and winked.

Darcy had never been more glad of Katherine taking control than in this moment. Oblivious to Darcy’s own problem, she grabbed his arm tighter and led him away from the newsies.

He took another deep breath. Had the boy been flirting with him? Darcy couldn’t handle people flirting with him. The only exception was Bill but that didn’t really count, considering that Bill was his lover. Which Darcy still couldn’t quite believe. He and Bill were a thing. Bill had been the one to take the first step, turning a little moment of them cuddling into a sweet, intoxicating kiss.

Darcy smiled and it didn’t take long for him to forget the incident with the newsies.

III.

Apparently, people did have a thing for his butt. That was the conclusion Darcy came to when he was ready cleaning the printing press and went to put on his coat. Bill had already left the cellar, presumably talking with Katherine and Jack outside.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but he couldn’t help but hear two voices, a few feet away, seemingly not noticing his presence.

“… yeah, but one of 'em definitely had a stick up his ass.” The heavy Brooklyn accent in this voice was obvious and Darcy suspected that the boy talking was that Spot Conlon that every single newsie seemed to either fear or respect.

“Obviously. He’s refused ta shake Jack’s hand when he’d spit on it,” the other person laughed. It was also a boy but Darcy couldn’t quite place who the voice belonged to.

Was he talking about Darcy? It would make sense, considering that Spot had talked about two people specifically and he and Bill were the odd ones out (Katherine didn’t count since she had already been involved in the strike before they had been printing the banner tonight). Suddenly, Darcy felt offended. Just because he had manners didn’t mean that he was uptight.

“But you have to admit, it’s a pretty nice ass,” the person whose voice Darcy didn’t recognize answered.

It took Darcy all strength he could muster up not to cough and make his presence known. That would be even weirder than only hearing people talk about his ass. He hurried with putting on his coat, while contemplating listening a little more. Of course he was embarrassed but he kind of wanted to know what else the boys had to say.

“You’s right, Race.” A pause. “But do ya know who also has a great ass?”

Alright, that was Darcy’s cue to leave.

+ IV.

“I can’t believe you!” Darcy exclaimed while Bill only laughed more and more. He sighed. “I shouldn’t have told you, I knew it.”

“I am sorry, I did not mean to offend you, Darce, but that’s just too funny,” Bill said, letting his fingers run over Darcy’s arm, yet not even trying to suppress his laughter. “Why did I never notice that your butt is apparently so interesting?”

“I hate you,” Darcy retorted, crossing his arms in front of his chest, all the while trying to come up with a convincing pout.

Bill stopped laughing at that but the smirk didn’t leave his face. “No, you don’t.” His voice was soft and he moved closer to his lover. “Do you want to know what makes you the most handsome in my opinion?”

Darcy threw him a sceptical glance and let his arms fall to his side again. “What is it?”

“Your nose.”

“My nose?” Darcy let out a small laugh. “Seriously?”

“Well, it is,” Bill replied and shoved him lightly. “Especially when you’re wearing your glasses.” He raised his hand and started to trace the rim of Darcy’s glasses, gently, as if he was afraid of breaking them. Darcy’s breath hitched. “Shoving your smartness in everyone’s faces.”

“Glasses don’t make people smart.” Darcy remembered the time he thought that he would seem more mature when he acted as if he indeed had a real beard. In retrospect, he nearly laughed at that.

“But they make people look smart. And smart people are very, very attractive.” To prove his former point, Bill planted a short kiss on Darcy’s nose.

Darcy smiled. Then he leaned back a bit and took off his glasses. “But what happens when I stop wearing my glasses and don’t look smart any more?” He teased.

Bill made a face like he was thinking about something real intensely. Eventually, he embraced Darcy and smirked. “Then you still got your ass to show off,” he whispered, letting his hands wander lower and lower over Darcy’s back.

For once, Darcy didn’t mind someone paying attention to his butt.

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dallanebbia · 4 years

Text

selcouth

fandom: bnha pairing: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 6.6k warnings: minor descriptions of injuries synopsis: five times uraraka held bakugou’s hand – and the one time he held hers. pre-relationship, second year, future fic notes: written for day 5 of kacchako week 2020, with the prompt ‘hand holding.’ fun fact, this was the very last prompt i wrote for this event! i went back and forth with a ton of different plots, but i ended up with a good ol’ 5+1 fic, ft. lots of fluff and an emotionally dumb, oblivious bakugou. when i started writing this ship, it was hard for me to get into bakugou’s head to write from his pov, but i think i’m getting a little better at it :) ao3: [link]

selcouth (n.) – Old English, something unfamiliar, unusual or wondrous

��── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The first time Uraraka held his hand was literally only because he had no other choice.

“Jeez, Bakugou… do you always hafta be so intense about things?”

Uraraka winced at the grotesque sight of Bakugou’s knee, swelling into an angry purple color between the shredded remains of his hero costume pants.

“Tch, like I was gonna let someone else beat me to the action,” he scowled, leaning against an electrical pole for support.

In retrospect, launching himself headfirst into an ongoing robbery wasn’t the smartest idea – especially when he was only supposed to be an intern. He’d kicked ass of course – those shitty villains had nothing on him – but the busted kneecap and fractured foot he got in exchange weren’t really doing him any favors.

Kamui Woods had taken one look at him, sighed heavily, and radioed Uraraka to escort Bakugou back to the agency for healing while he dealt with the police.

Bakugou had protested, saying that he didn’t need help – but it was quickly becoming clear that he wasn’t going anywhere. The pain in his legs was excruciating, throbbing in time to his heartbeat, and it took every ounce of his remaining energy to keep himself from collapsing in the middle of the street.

“Bakugou –” Uraraka bit her lip, watching in worry as he tried to push himself upright, flinching violently. On instinct, she stepped forward, immediately coming up to try and steady him. “Let me –”

“I don’t need your fuckin’ help, Round Face,” he barked, jerking himself away from her outstretched hands. It was a mistake, though – he grimaced, his face crumpling in pain, and he missed the way Uraraka’s eyes narrowed in determination.

“There’s no way you’re gettin’ back to the agency like that, Bakugou,” she said sternly. “Quit bein’ such a damn edgelord and let me help you!”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou snarled. “I don’t need some pink-cheeked – you bitch, don’t you fucking dare.”

“You really wanna be carried outta here on a stretcher?” He felt anger boiling in his blood just thinking about it. “That’s what I thought.” The set of Uraraka’s mouth just tilted down stubbornly, and before he could keep protesting, she slapped a hand over his bicep.

“I’ll murder you.” His eyes glared daggers into the side of her head, but the pain in his expression eased as he rose into the air.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Uraraka rolled her eyes, grabbing a fistful of his pants and tugging him along as she started down the street. There were already emergency responders helping to clean the crime scene, the police herding the robbers into cars, and all that was left was for them to check into medical and write up their reports. “Lord Explosion Murder, we get it already.”

“That’s King to you, Round Face,” he spat out, making a face as his body started to turn awkwardly in the air. “Oi, quit movin’ me around so much, I’m gonna flip over!”

Uraraka threw him an annoyed look, and adjusted her grip so that she was holding a bigger handful of fabric. “Well, it’s this or your foot, and I don’t wanna risk makin’ your injuries worse than they already are.”

“You’ll make them worse if you keep making me bump into random shit,” he sputtered furiously. He tried batting himself out of the way of a traffic sign, only to be jerked out of the way at the last second like a balloon. “Fuck – I said quit that!”

“If I knew you were gonna be such a pain about this…” Uraraka huffed and came to a stop in the middle of the goddamn sidewalk, ignoring all the attention they were drawing. “Fine, lemme just – “

Bakugou faltered as she yanked him down closer to her, grabbing his gloved hand in hers.

“O-oi, what are you – ?” He scrabbled at his arm, trying to shove her away, but his bulky gauntlets made it virtually impossible.

“S’just my hand, Bakugou,” Uraraka sighed, and tossed him a frown when he kept trying to pull himself out of her grip. “Stop bein’ so weird about it!”

“I’m not being weird,” he snapped, biting the inside of his cheek to hide his discomfort. Had her grip always been so strong? “I could blow your fucking arm off!”

That earned him a scoff. “You’ve got the most control over your quirk outta anyone from our class, Bakugou. There’s no way you’re gonna blow my arm off,” she said exasperatedly, and he blinked a little at the way she said it, as if it were obvious. “Look, if it’s such a big deal, I’ll princess carry you back instead.”

“Try that and I’m actually gonna kill you,” he growled darkly. Shitty Hair was supposed to swing by the agency so they could grab dinner, and there was no fucking way Bakugou was letting his dumbfuck best friend see him carried in like a damsel in distress.

Uraraka grinned to herself in victory. “You already said that.”

“Well, I mean it!” he grumbled, and slowly resigned himself to being dragged along like a balloon. At least he was floating right-side up now – and facing the right direction this time.

“… Wait. Did you call me a fuckin’ edgelord?”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The second time Uraraka held his hand was an accident.

“Oh sweet Jesus.”

Bakugou exhaled slowly, trying to quell the frustration bubbling in his stomach, and shot a dirty look to the side.

“Oi,” he snapped, glaring at the petite brunette sitting next to him. “Zip it, Round Face.” Uraraka had been squealing and muttering under her breath since the damn movie started, and he was over it.

“Eeek – sorry!” Uraraka whispered, flashing him a wavering, apologetic smile before an upswell in the creepy background music made her features contort in a wince.

Bakugou just grunted, turning his eyes back to the laptop screen. He didn’t know how Pinky got Uraraka to join their weekly movie night ritual, but he had ended up next to her on Shitty Hair’s bed, the two of them squished her up against the wall. Pikachu and Tape Face were sprawled out on the rest of the bed, slowly dozing off, but Shitty Hair and Pinky, who had commandeered the floor space, had left the room ten minutes ago for snacks, and they hadn’t come back yet.

He hoped to hell that they weren’t making out in the hallway again.

“Oh god,” he heard Uraraka squeak quietly, as on the screen, a flash of lightning showed the silhouette of a man in the dark house, while the female protagonist was sleeping, completely unaware. “Oh god, oh fuck no – “

His eyes cut over to the side, eyeing Uraraka in surprise. “The hell?” he muttered, and brown eyes darted in his direction. “Since when do you curse?”

Uraraka frowned at him, but flinched as the woman on screen jolted awake. “M’allowed to curse, Bakugou, I’m not a kid,” she whispered back fiercely, but flinched as another flash of lightning showed the dark figure standing by the woman’s bed. “Ohmygod, ohmygod –“

He scoffed. “It ain’t even that scary, Cheeks,” he murmured with an eyeroll. “This is pussy shit.”

“Maybe for you!” she hissed, and let out a whimper as the music faded, leaving only the sound of the woman’s heavy breathing filtering through the speakers. “Oh my god, no no no – ”

At this point, Bakugou just tilted his head to sneer at her. “Seriously? You could literally fuck that guy up in a second.”

Uraraka made a face. “Just ‘cause I could, doesn’t mean it’s any less creepy! Nobody wants to wake up and find some serial killer in their house!” she protested, a little too loudly, and they both froze as Pikachu groaned a little, shifting so he was sprawled over Tape Face a bit more, before falling limp again.

For a few blissful minutes, she kept quiet while the movie played – but when the main character let out a dramatic gasp, she jumped again, hands flying to her face. She curled herself into a ball, peeking through the fingers covering her eyes, and Bakugou couldn’t help but mutter, “Tch, you’re such a wimp.”

Uraraka’s head whipped up, eyes narrowed. “I am not a wimp!” she whispered hotly.

A blonde eyebrow rose doubtfully. “Are too.”

“Are not!”

“Are too.”

“Are not!”

“Yes, you are,” he emphasized lowly, nodding at the laptop screen. He recognized the scene playing on the screen, and he had to bite back his smirk as he goaded, “You’re not even watching the damn movie.”

“Fine, I’ll prove it!” With a huff, Uraraka sat up, leaning forward and staring at the laptop with knitted brows. Bakugou let himself grin a little – baiting her was fun, but he kept his eyes on her as the main character crept down the dark hallway. He’d seen the movie once a while back, but he remembered that there was a jump scare, just after –

“Holyfuckingshit!” The shrill, tinny scream from the movie almost covered Uraraka’s strangled squeal of fright, but Bakugou sure as hell didn’t miss the way the brunette leapt clean into the air, diving into Shitty Hair’s comforter like an ostrich hiding its head in the sand. Bakugou couldn’t quite hide his snickering, his body shaking as he cackled quietly, but when he tried to bring his hand up to wipe at his eyes, something was preventing him from moving.

“The fuck?” he uttered, staring down in bewilderment. At some point, Uraraka had grabbed his hand during her freak out, clenching it tight against her forehead, as if trying to hide her entire body behind the width of his hand. She looked utterly ridiculous, but some part of him couldn’t help but notice how fucking tiny her hands were.

Then, he realized that he was starting to float off the bed.

“Oi, let me go!” he hissed, shaking his hand to try and get her attention.

“H-huh?” Uraraka sat up, a little wild-eyed, and Bakugou leaned over to poke her in the middle of her forehead, hard.

“Your quirk, you idiot!”

Her mouth dropped open in mortification as she realized she had commandeered his hand, pushing it away from her abruptly as she quickly pressed her fingers together. “Sorry, sorry!” she squeaked, and Bakugou dropped back onto the mattress with a thump. “Oh god, I didn’t mean to – ”

“Will you chill the fuck out already?” he grumbled, repositioning himself on the mattress and kicking Pikachu’s fat ass over to give him some more room. He didn’t want her to use him as a teddy bear again, so he grabbed a pillow and shoved it at her. “Here, if you really need to hide behind something...”

He let his voice trail off as Uraraka took the pillow, still flushed in embarrassment. “… sorry,” she offered again, a little timidly, and Bakugou sighed.

“…Whatever, it’s fine,” he muttered, balling the hand she had held in a fist. It felt weird for some reason – why did his palm feel so prickly all of a sudden? “Just shut up already, will you?”

Uraraka just mimed zipping her lips together, nodding furiously, and he rolled his eyes as he turned back to the screen, a good half-meter between them.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The third time Uraraka held his hand was just… weird.

“Shit.”

Bakugou glared down at the sloppy tangle of gauze wrapped loosely around his hands. With a grimace, he yanked the bandages away, gritting his teeth against the pain that shot through his body, the echoing ache digging down deep into his bones.

He wanted to call Shitty Hair for help, but the redhead was out for the weekend, visiting his family. There was no way he was going to cave and ask anyone else for help, so Bakugou had sucked it up and tried taking care of it himself.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t going so well.

“Eh? Is that you, Bakugou?” His head snapped up at the sound of a familiar voice, and a glance over his shoulder revealed Uraraka, standing in the entrance of the common room in her pajamas. Her hair was a mess and she was rubbing at her face sleepily, but none of that explained what she was doing up at three in the fucking morning.

“What the hell are you doing?” he scowled, turning his back to her.

“I got thirsty,” she yawned. “Why are you up so late? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“What are you, my fuckin’ mother?” he snapped. “Fuck off.”

“Right…” Uraraka pursed her lips, padding to the kitchen. “I was just askin’, sheesh…”

Even though his body was hidden by the couch, and there was no way for her to see anything other than his head as she crossed the room, Bakugou still buried his hands into the front pockets of his hoodie. He was in pain and frustrated and exhausted, and he felt like a spring wound too tight. Uraraka’s sudden appearance had caught him off guard, and he felt oddly exposed for some reason.

She disappeared into the kitchen, and Bakugou exhaled slowly. He slowly pulled his hands back out, grabbing the bundle of gauze with a wince and settling down to untangle the mess for the hundredth time. He could feel his hands protesting, the stitches crawling up his palms already starting to bleed through antibacterial gel he’d lathered on earlier, and he slumped even further into the couch as frustration burned at the backs of his eyes.

“Um… Bakugou?”

He froze, eyes sliding to the side to see Uraraka. She was standing at the other end of the couch, a glass of water in hand, and looked both hesitant and determined all at once.

“Mind your own fuckin’ business, Round Face.” He ducked his head, swallowing as he took a steadying breath.

He picked at the tangled bandages, but the couch dipped suddenly under him. He felt Uraraka scoot close until she was sitting at his side, body turned to face him as she said softly, “If you want, I can…?”

She held her hand out, waiting for him to give her the gauze.

His first instinct was to say no. It was bad enough that he had to ask Shitty Hair for help, but he didn’t want anyone else seeing what a weak little shit he was. He had to learn how to do it himself at some point too – there wasn’t a point in relying on someone when he could do it alone, just as well or even better.

Still… his gaze fell to her outstretched hand, and he noticed the faint scars covering the skin of her palm and fingers. The pale marks were obviously not new, not years old either – but they were well healed, without any excess scar tissue. He didn’t know how he never noticed them before.

Huh. He flicked his gaze up to her face, where she watched him with patient eyes, gnawing at her lip nervously. Well, not like she can make it worse.

“… whatever.” He slapped the bandages into her waiting palm, and cursed himself for being a dumbass as pain and black dots exploded across his vision. “Do what you want,” he muttered with a grimace. He turned his head away, jaw set stubbornly, but slowly, he let his gaze slide to the side, watching her from the corner of his eye.

To his disgruntlement, Uraraka combed through the mess easily, fingers plucking until the length of gauze was coiled loosely in her lap. She reached towards him, and Bakugou had to bite back the instinct to recoil from her touch as she tugged his hand over, cupping it as she started to wrap his palm.

Her hands were cool against his skin, her touch firm yet gentle. She moved quickly and confidently, as if she’d done this exact same thing a hundred times before, and he didn’t notice his head turning to watch her work until she glanced up at him. She met his gaze with a startled “eep!,” and then immediately directed them back down with an embarrassed flush.

He felt his cheeks turn hot, and a weird buzzing sensation settled below his skin, one that got really loud every time Uraraka’s fingers brushed over his. It wasn’t a bad thing per se, but it felt disconcerting – and after she finished tying off the ends of the bandages, he immediately pulled his hands back.

He examined them, begrudgingly impressed. The wraps looked as good as when Recovery Girl had done them, possibly better – but he figured the pain was the reason he was thinking so weirdly, so he pushed the thought out of his head.

“How do they feel?” Uraraka asked. “Not too tight?”

“S’alright,” he mumbled. “Better than how Shitty Hair does it.”

For some reason, she laughed. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He was really touched that you asked him for help, y’know?”

“He’s fucking dead,” Bakugou growled, because of course Shitty Hair went and blabbed. He leaned back against the cushions with a sigh – the stabbing ache was still there, but it was slowly dulling. Without the stress of trying to wrap his injuries by himself, he felt ten times lighter.

He glanced over to Uraraka, who was staring off into nothing, toying with her half-filled water glass absently. His gaze dropped to her hands again, curiosity niggling at the edge of his brain, and he asked brusquely, “How the hell do you know how to do shit like this anyways?”

She jumped a little, blinking in surprise, but when he didn’t say anything, just waiting for an answer, she giggled nervously. “Oh, well… durin’ my internship with Gunhead, he taught me how to throw knives!”

He jerked upright at that, his eyes bugging out, because what the fuck?

“And I was pretty bad at it at first,” Uraraka continued, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. “I kept cuttin’ my hands up… so I got a lot of practice with takin’ care of stuff like that!”

“Knives?” he repeated incredulously. “You can throw fuckin’ knives?”

“Yeah?” She shrugged, as if she wasn’t aware of how fucking badass she sounded. “I mean, you never know when you’ll need one – that’s what Gunhead always said. I asked the Support Department to add a bunch to my hero costume, but I hafta pass some sort of test before I’m cleared to carry them…”

Bakugou huffed, clicking his tongue. “Un-fucking-believable,” he muttered, shaking his head. He knew that she was strong, but he could feel his respect for her leaping up a few notches.

Knives. Who would’ve thought?

Unfortunately, Uraraka somehow interpreted his words as disbelief, and her eyes narrowed into a glare.

“Hey, I’m serious!” she scowled, scooting closer so she could shove her hand into his face. “See – this one’s from where I dropped one and tried catchin’ it, but I didn’t get all my fingers on the handle… and this one is because I was testin’ out different weights, and there was this one that was super heavy and slipped and cut my palm. And this one –”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, but continued to listen as she chattered away. His gaze settled on one scar that curved from the middle of her left palm across the meat below her thumb, grazing the back of her wrist like a half-drawn contour line. The mark shined a little, catching the light as her arms moved, and he found himself oddly mesmerized by it.

Absently, he wondered what it would feel like, pressed up against the skin of his palm.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The fourth time Uraraka held his hand didn’t really count – not until he apologized.

“Yield?”

Bakugou scowled, hands scrabbling against the muscled thighs squeezing his neck. “Hell… no…” he croaked through gritted teeth.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Uraraka chided, her voice already lilting gleefully. The legs around his throat tightened just a little more. “You ain’t gettin’ out this time, Bakugou – yield already!”

He struggled against her for a few more seconds, trying to squirm his way out of the chokehold, but after another warning squeeze, he sighed, falling limp with a groan. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, “I yield, now let me go!”

He gasped as Uraraka released him, gulping down air as he tried to catch his breath. At his side, Uraraka rolled onto her knees, grinning in victory.

“Heh, that’s one more for me!” she cheered, pumping the air with her fist, and she gave him a cheeky grin. “Better watch out Bakugou, soon you’re gonna be eatin’ my dust!”

“Tch, don’t get all cocky just yet,” he barked, pushing himself up off the floor. He used the bottom of his tank top to wipe at his face, wincing at the sting of sweat dripping into his eyes. “I’ve still got fifty wins to your forty-eight!”

“Yeah, but I’m catchin’ up!” she shot back, waving her hand dismissively. “You used to have like, ten wins on me at one point – just a few more spars and we’ll be tied!”

He scowled, but only because she wasn’t wrong – when they’d first agreed to start sparring together, a little while after his hands had finally healed up properly, he’d been pinning her to the ground consistently. Then, she started going to those supplemental martial arts classes, and he started getting his ass kicked more and more.

For some reason though, he didn’t mind the idea of losing if it meant he was losing to Uraraka.

Still, he had a reputation to uphold, so he rolled his eyes and spat out, “Pft, in your fuckin’ dreams, Cheeks.”

Uraraka paused, head tilting in confusion. “Cheeks?” she asked, brow raised. “What happened to Round Face?”

“I mean…” Bakugou cursed internally – he hadn’t meant to let the nickname slip out, but since it was already out there… he leaned forward and poked her, right below the pink blush staining her cheekbone. “If the shoe fits, and all that shit.”

It was also meant to refer to her ass, but he figured that she didn’t have to know that.

Uraraka’s expression darkened as he kept poking at her cheek, jerking her face away. “Stop that,” she snapped, and Bakugou just smirked.

“Or what?” he said teasingly. He didn’t quite know how it happened, but trolling Uraraka had become his favorite pastimes – she was just too easy to rile up. He just reached forward and poked her again, ignoring the glare she was giving him. “Whatcha gonna do, Cheeks?”

“If you poke me one more time, I swear – ”

He just snorted, going in to squish her cheek again, but Uraraka’s arm whipped up and caught his hand in a claw-like grip, her thumb digging into a pressure point that sent a stabbing pain shooting through him. “Ow, ow – fuck, what the hell – ?!”

She shoved him away as he crumpled under the force of her grip, and her voice was loud and angry as she yelled, “I said stop, Bakugou!”

He fell back, brows knitted in confusion as Uraraka stood up abruptly, stalking over to where they’d placed their things earlier. She pulled on her jacket roughly, grabbing her water bottle, and Bakugou scrambled to his feet as he realized that she was actually upset.

He caught her right before she made it to the locker room, grabbing her shoulder. “Oi, what was that for?”

“Let me go!”

“Not until you explain,” he growled, and yanked her back so she was facing him. “You’re being all moody now, what gives?”

“You were bein’ a jerk,” she snapped, mouth downturned as she stared at him defiantly. “I don’t appreciate bein’ made fun of.”

What? He frowned. “When the hell did I make fun of you?”

“You called me Cheeks!” she exclaimed furiously. “And you kept pokin’ at ‘em, lookin’ all smug!”

She said it so pointedly, as if that had proved her point, but Bakugou just felt even more confused. Were all girls so fuckin’ weird?

“You’ve got chubby cheeks, so I called you Cheeks.” He didn’t know what was happening – he thought the name fit pretty well, but clearly she didn’t agree. “How the fuck is that making fun of you?”

Uraraka’s jaw clenched. “You literally just called them chubby,” she said, her voice tight as she looked away.

“Cause they are, dumbass.” He paused then, studying her, and as she curled an arm over her stomach, he finally realized what she was going on about.

Bakugou frowned. He knew girls were all sensitive about their bodies and stuff, but he’d thought that Uraraka wasn’t the type to worry about that stuff. She was always stuffing her face when there was free food around, and her costume was basically skin-tight; he figured that she had to have some measure of confidence to pull that kind of shit off, but maybe he was wrong.

“M’not saying that you’re fat,” he said slowly, trying to come up with the right words to explain himself. He knew he could come off as an asshole, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who said shit like that. “You’re not, alright?”

“Whatever, Bakugou.” She didn’t seem convinced, rolling her eyes as she tried shrugging his hand away.

“Oi, I mean it.” He tugged on her shoulder insistently until she met his gaze. “Nobody gives a fuck about what you look like, Uraraka. You’re strong, and that’s all that matters. So fuckin’ what if you’ve got chipmunk cheeks – they’re c-cute, so fuck whoever gives you crap about ‘em!”

He stuttered over the word, his face flushing a little, and he had to avert his eyes when she blinked up at him in surprise. It felt awkward as hell, saying something like that out loud, but he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about him.

He didn’t want her thinking that way about herself.

“Oh.” He heard Uraraka exhale slowly, as if trying to gather her thoughts. Then, she laughed a little and said, “Who are you and what have you done to Bakugou?”

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean?” His head whipped up, a glare ready, but it faltered as he saw the smile on Uraraka’s face as she stared at him. It was small and soft, and there was something he couldn’t quite name lingering in her expression. He felt his tongue go heavy all of a sudden, and all he could do was swallow thickly as a swooping sensation erupted in his stomach.

She shrugged. “You bein’ nice is just… strange, I guess.”

That made him scowl. “I’m always fucking nice, what the hell?”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, Bakugou,” she said dryly, and then shook her head, huffing a little. “Well, I guess Cheeks is better than Round Face, in any case…”

Her voice trailed off, and the silence that fell between them felt heavy and oppressive as Bakugou shifted on the balls of his feet. There was something weird about the way Uraraka was peering up at him, almost expectantly, but he didn’t know what she was waiting for.

Eventually, he settled on just repeating himself – he figured it wouldn’t hurt to hammer his point in, just one more time. “I mean it, y’know,” he grumbled. “You’re fine the way you are.”

“… Thanks.” For some reason, that made Uraraka’s shoulders slump a little, but before he could read into it, she offered him that weird little smile again. “That means a lot, comin’ from you.”

“Hah?” He blinked. “Why?”

“You’re always upfront and blunt ‘bout what you’re thinkin’,” she explained, and reached up to lay her hand over his, still resting on the curve of her shoulder. She squeezed gently, before dragging it off of her. “I know you really mean it – you aren’t sayin’ stuff just to make me feel better.”

Their hands hung between them, Uraraka still holding his, and goosebumps trailed up his arm as he felt his skin tingle under her touch. Even as she let go, the feeling lingered, and he couldn’t help but flex his hand, trying to work the strange sensation away.

“I don’t do that kind of fake shit,” he said, clearing his throat a little, and tried to hide his discomfort by shoving his hands in his pockets. “But… if you really don’t want me to call you that, I’ll stop.”

Uraraka shook her head. “No, I… I don’t mind it,” she said shyly, twisting her fingers together, and he offered her a nod, mouth quirking upwards as he resisted the odd urge to let himself grin wildly.

“Cheeks it is, then.”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The fifth time Uraraka held his hand was only for half-priced ramen.

“Oh my god.” The brunette stopped dead in her tracks, eyes going wide in awe. “Bakugou, look!!”

He paused, confused, and followed her outstretched arm to the storefront of a local ramen shop. They’d gotten permission to leave campus to grab something for dinner after their sparring session, but they’d agreed on going to the supermarket for food.

Bakugou took a second to examine the restaurant façade, head cocked in confusion. There was nothing out of the ordinary – it seemed like the shop probably had decent ramen, but he could make his own just as easily.

“What the hell am I supposed to be seeing?”

“It’s right there! Look!!” Uraraka made an impatient noise, pointing at the shop again in excitement. “They have a 2-for-1 special on their ramen! It’s half the usual price!!”

Ah. Sure enough, there was a sign propped out in the middle of the sidewalk, advertising the very offer Uraraka mentioned. “Yeah? So?”

“So,” she said, dragging out the word expectantly, “Let’s go!”

It was his turn to stop, this time turning to her incredulously. “… Hah?”

“Let’s go eat there!” she exclaimed, all starry-eyed. “We came out here to grab dinner, right? I bet they have spicy ramen too…”

“Cheeks…” he said warningly, rolling his eyes at her wheedling tone. “We’re supposed to be getting groceries.”

“Aw, c’mon, Bakugou!” she pouted. “We can get groceries after; this is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

“Pretty sure that’s supposed to apply to things like winning the lottery, not some deal at a restaurant,” he said dryly. Still, he took a closer look, his brows rising as he read the tiny characters lining the bottom of the sign. “Besides, it’s only for couples. Unless you’ve got a secret boyfriend, I think you’re shit outta luck, Cheeks.”

Without missing a single beat, Uraraka said, “Well, I have you, don’t I?”

Bakugou sputtered, his heart stuttering. “What?”

Uraraka just blinked up at him even more eagerly, a determined smile growing on her face. “My auntie and her best friend used t’pretend to be a couple to get the paired ticket discounts at amusement parks,” she explained casually, and Bakugou could almost begrudgingly admire that – those places were expensive as shit. “This is the same thing!”

“Uh huh,” he said doubtfully. “And how the hell are we supposed to convince people we’re a couple?”

“All we gotta do is hold hands and be happy together,” she said cheerfully. “They’ll totally buy it!”

Hold hands. Bakugou swallowed a little, something turning uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach as he recalled the last few times she had held his hand. The weird feeling in his hand had eventually gone away, but when he’d gone online for more information, the only rational explanation he found was that his skin was reacting badly to her soap or something.

He scowled – he wasn’t going to risk a full-blown allergic reaction just so Uraraka could get a cheap deal on ramen. “Yeah, not happening.”

“C’mon, Bakugou – please?” He faltered a little as she stared up at him with wide, brown eyes. That weird, warm itch started to spread again, his palms going a little sweaty for some reason – what kind of weird-ass soap did she use? “I can’t eat out all that often… and we did come out to grab food, right?”

He clenched his jaw, folding his arms across his chest stubbornly. “No.”

“Please?” she pleaded, shaking his arm. “C’mon, just this once!”

He studied her with narrowed eyes, chin jutting out as he glowered down at her, but she just kept staring back at him, unblinkingly. As they stood there in stubborn silence, he felt that uncomfortable feeling surge to life, crawling up his spine, but he refused to look away even as he felt heat blooming across the back of his neck.

“Cheeks…” he growled warningly. His throat felt a little thick, a weird tightness spreading through his chest, but somehow, he found his resolve wavering a little. Clearly, whatever he was reacting to had already got to him – he might as well just take advantage of it. And it had been a while since he’d eaten ramen…

“Please?” she asked again, and he held her gaze for a few seconds longer before exhaling heavily.

“Ugh… fine,” he growled, scowling at the way Uraraka’s expression switched from puppy dog eyes to satisfied smugness in the blink of an eye. “But if you tell anyone this happened, you’re dead. Got it?”

“My lips are sealed!” she said cheerily, punching the air in enthusiasm as she beamed. “Ahh, this is gonna be great!”

She didn’t even hesitate as she pulled his arms loose, wrapping a hand in one of his. As their palms slid together, something in his gut did a little flip. Somehow, her hand snugly in his, clasped together as she started to tug him forward, and he could feel the ball of his hand rub against that scar he had noticed, back when she’d helped him wrap his hands that one night.

If she ever decided to switch soap brands, he decided that he wouldn’t mind her holding his hand again.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The one and only time Bakugou held her hand was because she was a forgetful idiot.

He looked over at Uraraka again, watching the way she rubbed her hands together, breathing on them as she shivered. He cast a glare over at her shitty friends, who were standing around like oblivious idiots – couldn’t they see she was freezing?

Ending up at the open-air mall with the rest of his classmates had been the very last thing he’d wanted to do today, but Shitty Hair had gotten Tape Face and Pikachu to help drag him out of the dorms, ignoring his hollering as they literally wrapped him up in tape and carried his squirming body onto the train station. He’d given in at that point – especially when he saw the way Uraraka’s face brighten a little as she saw him enter the train car. She had offered him a wave and a smile, but had otherwise stayed with the rest of her stupid friends, even after arriving at the mall.

He kicked at the ground, slouching as he shoved his hands further into his pockets. Peeking at where Uraraka was sitting again, his eyes narrowed as he saw Deku and Frogface and Four-eyes wandering off, Ponytail and Icy-Hot heading in a different direction, until Uraraka was left alone on the bench, surrounded by a bunch of shopping bags that were too expensive to belong to her.

He chewed on his lip, staring as she rubbed her hands together again, and finally made up his mind.

A glimpse over his shoulder showed the other four idiots he called friends running around the shoe store, surrounded by piles of boxes, and he quickly spun on his heel and stalked over to where Uraraka was sitting, humming some song with her eyes closed. When she didn’t react to his presence, he nudged her leg with his knee.

“Oi. Cheeks.”

“H-huh?” Her eyes fluttered open, focusing on him, and he shifted a little as those big brown eyes made his knees feel oddly weak. “Oh hey, Bakugou, what’s up?”

He thrust his hand out with a sigh. “Gimme your hands.”

“Uh… what?” Uraraka watched him in confusion. “Why – ?”

He huffed, wiggling his fingers. “Just give ‘em to me, Cheeks.”

“O… kay?” The wary glance she gave him almost made him want to roll his eyes, but she still reached forward. She placed her hands on his open palm, almost tentatively, but Bakugou quickly grabbed them, engulfing her tiny ones in his as he squatted down to breathe hot air over her bare fingers.

“What kind of dumbass doesn’t bring gloves with them?” he muttered, brows scrunching in concentration. Uraraka squeaked in surprise, but she let out a sigh of relief as he activated his quirk just enough to let heat radiate out from his glove-covered palms. “It’s the middle of the winter, you idiot.”

Uraraka’s face went a deep pink, most likely from the cold air. “I was runnin’ late!” she said bashfully. “By the time I remembered them, we were already on the train…”

“Stupid.” He wanted to make a comment about how shitty her friends were for not helping her, but he bit it back in favor of bringing his hands to his mouth, pulling the gloves off with his teeth. “Here, put these on.”

“E-eh?!” Uraraka waved her arms, flustered, as he shoved them towards her, shaking her head. “Bakugou, what… won’t you be – ”

“I have my quirk, Cheeks.” He gave her a flat stare, holding up a sparking hand. “Take ‘em, it looks like your fingers are gonna fall off.”

“Ah, I’ll be fine, you don’t have to – ”

“Fuck, do I have to do everything myself?” he grumbled, and her mouth fell open a little as he took her hand – and he was right, even with how he’d warmed her hands up, they were still practically icicles – and shoved it into one glove, before doing the same to the other side. Uraraka was still staring at him in bewilderment, so Bakugou tucked in her sleeves before tightening the toggles around her wrists to keep her body heat from escaping.

He checked one last time to make sure all her fingers were in the right places, before letting out a satisfied huff. “There. Now you won’t get fuckin’ frostbite,” he said firmly, and smirked a little – there was no way Uraraka could say he wasn’t nice after this.

Except… when he looked up, she was staring at him with a strangely soft expression that made his lungs go tight. It made him feel all hot and weird all of a sudden – the stupid allergies were coming back, dammit – and he stood up quickly, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

“Give ‘em back later,” he said, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason. He shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding at her as he tried to act cool, and turned around to head back to the shoe store.

He only took a few steps before the sound of Uraraka’s voice called out to him. “W-wait! Bakugou!”

He turned quickly, seeing her standing behind him, his gloves looking comically large hanging off the ends of her arms. “Hah?”

“U-uh, just…” She fidgeted, shifting her weight between her feet, but then her lips stretched into a huge, beaming smile, her eyes crinkling. His heart started to race in his chest under the force of Uraraka’s grin. “Thank you! For…”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” he stuttered, feeling his cheeks burn. “Whatever.” Her smile somehow got a little wider, and he quickly spun around, nearly sprinting away.

Bakugou didn’t look back at her, despite how much he wanted to – but if he had, he would’ve seen the way Uraraka brought his gloves to her nose, inhaling the lingering smoky-sweet smell as she hid a goofy grin behind her hands.

#kacchako #kacchakoweek2020 #katsuki bakugou #uraraka ochako #bakuraka #by nebbia #bnha #hand holding

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ghostmartyr · 3 years

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how a life can move from the darkness [7/?]

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

Summary: Two drug addicts (Eren and Historia) meet in group and decide to be roommates to make their living situation slightly less weird. From there we do the slow burn found family dance mixed in with the struggles and agonies of recovery. Heavy on friendship feels, especially EMA. Eventual yumikuri.

Eren’s first thought was that something was wrong with his taste buds.

He took another bite.

Light and fluffy, with enough crunch to be satisfying, the cookie melted in his mouth with the chocolate chips it was spotted with. Sugary, somehow warm despite living on a table for an hour, and… good. The cookie tasted good. Even with the small scorch marks.

“What do you think?”

Petra was hovering. Almost vibrating with how long she’d held the question back.

“They’re… good,” Eren said. “Really good. What did you do?”

Petra’s face flushed with joy, complete with a happy smile that warmed the whole gym like unfiltered sunshine. “I bought new measuring cups.”

Eren grabbed another cookie. “What was wrong with your old ones?”

She grimaced. “I was using my mom’s measuring cups and spoons. She never told me, but she got them from a bargain bin sale because none of them were labeled right. My father came by for a visit and pointed it out.” Petra sighed sadly and snagged a cookie off the plate, but that smile still shone on through. “That’s what I should have opened today with: the wonders of communication.”

“It’s good you got it sorted out.” Eren hadn’t planned on saying anything about it ever, but Historia had stopped taking the cookies after the last week’s made her throw up.

For him, he had the problem of food starting to taste like food again. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could have eaten Petra’s cookies without wanting to rip out his tongue.

Petra held out the entire plate to him. “Consider these your reward for supporting me all this time. No one else here is going to touch them, so you and Historia can take them home with you. Maybe use them as an excuse to drop by those friends you’ve reconnected with. Or that brother of yours,” she added. “He might have a sweet tooth to exploit.”

Eren took the plate and cut off eye contact so he wasn’t actually frowning at Petra. She’d had enough of that from him. “Aren’t you the one who said not to push everything at once? I just started talking to Armin and Mikasa again.” His thumb ran along a chip in the porcelain. “And it isn’t like everything changed anything between me and Zeke. It’s always been like this.”

“That’s not true,” Petra said, and before Eren could point out that she’d never met him so how would she know, she continued. “You used to never bring him up at all. I think you mentioned him five times today. By name.”

Eren hadn’t noticed that.

The corner with its folding table and loud clock he barely heard anymore felt cramped with just him and Petra. Historia was across the gym, suffering through Daz. Him trying to befriend the feral cats who hung out in the same alley his dealer had before their arrest had somehow turned into her problem.

She’d said she was a heroin addict today. Then she sat down and didn’t talk the rest of the hour. Apparently that marked her as accessible.

“It isn’t a recovery thing,” Eren said. Leaving out the shadow of Mikasa that lived in his mind and reminded him that he’d never gone and dealt with the dad part of what happened. People lost parents. Normal, healthy people. They got over it eventually. He didn’t need an extra boost of support just because he’d lost theirs so violently. Thinking he did was how the pills started. “Zeke’s just Zeke.”

Baseball-obsessed, hard to thank, hard to hate, hard to love.

Hard to have a full conversation with.

Their last one had probably been when he was six, and Zeke was explaining what was so great about a game where you spent most of it standing around doing nothing. He’d patted his helmet onto Eren’s head and carried him around the baseball diamond on his shoulders instead of partying with his division champion team.

Dad had offered to drive them. Zeke turned him down.

“You’re never doing nothing. You’re always waiting for the right moment, or creating the right moment. You watch your team and your opponents, and you think about the right pitch to throw, the right out to make—and if you watch them carefully enough, and practice hard enough, when that moment happens, you’re invincible.”

Eren had held on to his big brother’s buzzed head. “Mom says no one’s invincible.”

“Your mother wants you to stop picking fights.” Zeke looked up at him. “If you thought them through a little more carefully, maybe you’d win more.”

Eren remembered sticking out his tongue.

“You can’t win if you don’t fight.”

Years later, Eren glared at the plate he was holding and its chipped rim.

Petra was smiling at him with laughter dancing in her eyes.

“Recovery’s about us, Eren. Not what we did or what we got hooked on. Who we are as people. Just because it never technically broke doesn’t mean you can’t want it fixed.”

Eren didn’t know if he could have asked Mikasa, or Armin. Or Historia, because that answer was obvious and unhelpful. The question was all of the things he never should have let himself turn into, and it curled around his tongue like acid.

But he could ask Petra. He could ask the woman who’d made his mom believe in him a little by giving him the will to stick out every meeting when all he wanted was to burn everything he knew to the ground.

“Don’t you ever get tired of trying to fix things?”

Petra let the laugh out and squeezed Eren’s wrist.

“The secret to that,” Petra said, “is that’s what all those people you’ve already fixed things with are for.”

----

Eren taped a bagged cookie to Zeke’s apartment door.

An hour later, he had a text.

Outsides were a little scorched. You shouldn’t leave them in that long.

---

they weren’t even my cookies. i didn’t cook them, petra did.

what does he know about scorched

the first ones she made tasted like charcoal briquettes

these were so much better

like food

but go off i guess

In retrospect, spitting out a bunch of angry texts during Mikasa’s class hours and expecting it to help wasn’t the smartest thing Eren could have done. When his phone finally told him she saw them, he could practically hear the concerned silence reaching out his way and asking if someone needed to call someone for him.

I’m not on drugs, Eren clarified. Slightly less annoyed and remembering that Mikasa wasn’t used to non sequitur rants. Usually Armin got those. Because usually they weren’t about Zeke.

Mikasa finally type a response. I believe you.

Zeke’s just an asshole

Yes.

petra worked hard on those cookies she bought new measuring cups

[…] […] Who is Petra?

friend

Why did you give Zeke one of her cookies?

it was supposed to be therapeutic

Oh.

Eren had known Mikasa for enough years to see her eyes tracking back to the beginning of the conversation and to know she was hearing all his words in exactly the intonation he’d stamped them out with. That was why he usually texted Armin. Armin’s judgment was in quiet sighs that passed quickly. Mikasa’s stuck around with the reminder that some people had no problem being their best self every second of every day.

[…] I have time. If there are any cookies left, I could come over and take some for myself and Armin.

No offer of Eren coming over to their place, which used to be his place. He didn’t know if the tightness in his chest was frustration or gratitude.

really?

Yes. Your friend’s efforts should be appreciated.

[…] thanks i’ll let her know you love them

A grand total of one personal growth point coming from trying to reach out to Zeke, and it came from bonding with someone else over how badly it was going. Eren held his phone to his forehead and did the breathing exercises that didn’t work.

At least Petra had been right about the secret trick to it. Even if it wasn’t much of a secret. Eren’s friends had always been better than him at getting him out of the holes he dug himself.

----

“Is that real?”

“Pinch me, right?”

“No, I mean is that…”

“Yeah.”

“She’s…”

“I know.”

“I didn’t know she could do that.”

“You’re both assholes,” Ymir said. Doing nothing to change the surreal scene playing out in front of them. Her comment barely touched it. She was still bent over her bike, water bottle still held by nothing but her teeth, phone still in her hands, smiling. Genuinely. Not smirking. Not snarling or cackling or leering. Smiling.

It was one of the most unnerving things Eren had ever seen.

That covered a lot of ground.

“I thought… She’s fighting with Historia?” Eren asked.

He’d called for a break, and the first thing Ymir did after vaulting off her bike and pulling at her phone at the speed of sound was announce to the entire trail, “Eren, your jackass roommate just called me unromantic and shallow.”

Reiner was grinning like a maniac. For a guy who’d almost fallen over getting off his bike, he looked downright perky. Eren had worried he’d pushed things too far, but the bounce in his step when he flipped his water into his hands said otherwise. “She is.”

“But she’s smiling.”

“Yeah.”

“She looks happy.”

“She does.”

Someone Reiner’s size shouldn’t have been capable of giggling, but Ymir was already breaking Eren’s sense of reality. Reiner joining in wasn’t that different, and at least Reiner looking happy was something Eren could appreciate well enough for it to spread.

“What about Historia?” Reiner asked, letting his voice carry with a more direct grin at Eren. “How does her side of the fighting go?”

Eren had trouble thinking about the ongoing argument seriously without remembering tears and track marks. He couldn’t see the lighthearted moment staying if he brought that up. Ymir helped him out for once and didn’t rise to the bait. She rolled her eyes and took a sip of water by bending her entire head back instead of sparing a hand from her phone. “Historia? That’s really her name? Who hates their kid that much?”

Moment ruined anyway. “Don’t message her that,” Eren said sharply.

Ymir’s fingers had been waiting, not typing, but they stopped anyway. Her responding look saw through Eren and any past lives he or anyone in his general vicinity had lived, and Eren hated to admit it but he liked the smile more. He glared steadily back.

Her eyebrow quirked up. She tilted her head back for another drink. “Someday,” she said, “I’ll meet drug addicts who don’t have parental problems.”

“Eren likes his mom,” Reiner said, impervious to the tone shift.

“Sometimes.”

When he’d gone over to the house for dinner, she’d told him his hair was getting too long, and he should do something about it if he planned on running around so much.

“Now watch him not ask about the other times,” Ymir said.

Eren’s hackles rose. “There’s nothing wrong with my mom,” he said. “She’s the best.”

Ymir rolled her eyes so hard they practically landed in the back of her skull, and Eren didn’t know what was going to come out of her mouth next, but he’d probably want to punch her for it, and he needed to find somewhere safe for his helmet if that was how this was going to play—but they were both interrupted.

Her phone buzzed again, and the bizarre, reality-melting snap of joy that flashed over her face made Eren feel weirdly guilty about imagining what it would look like with a bloody nose.

He flopped his damp hair out of his eyes and slumped over his bike, watching a bird hop along the trail in front of them with a deep scowl that was fake enough to only make it through the third hop and the bird pecking at a piece of bread larger than its head.

That was a kind of happiness he could get. Hunger and feasting on things he wasn’t supposed to.

Eren swiped away more of his hair and looked down at the ground underneath his feet instead.

Reiner’s feet, done stretching, padded over the dirt, and his massive shoulder nudged Eren’s.

“You work at Steady Rock, right?”

Eren glanced up, because topic changes with Reiner felt safer with eye contact. “Yeah?”

“We got our hands on some coupons and wanted to know if it’s cool if we drop by during one of your shifts,” Reiner said, leaning further into Eren’s personal space than he was used to when they had somewhere larger than a cell to roam around in. “My little cousin is really into climbing right now, and she’s coming out for a visit in a few months. Scouting out places that might keep her attention is a pretty high priority before she gets here.”

Eren asked the obvious question. “Your family’s letting you watch her?”

Reiner didn’t quite look at him, and Eren wasn’t enough of a bastard to force it. “Her parents are coming along,” he said. “We’re only getting a few hours with her. But we want to show her a good time, you know? Convince them to let her back.”

Eren had spent every moment at work since Hannes’ latest discount series wondering how hard it was not to spend forty minutes of a promised hour falling off things and screaming about it, but Reiner would at least let him get a word in before he sped up a wall and got stuck. He snapped his helmet back on and shrugged. “Customers are customers,” he said.

Reiner chuckled. “Yeah, just… you know.” He cleared his throat and the next words sounded like they came out of one of the countless recovery books they’d both been forced through before their release. “Trying to respect your boundaries.”

They both looked Ymir’s way. She didn’t snipe anything back, too busy glowing.

Eren checked his watch to see how close to ending their break time was, pausing when he saw the clock over the running timer. He looked back up at Ymir, and the glint in her eye that said whatever was putting it there was ongoing.

“Time to head out?” Reiner asked.

It was a little early, but Reiner was breathing easily, and hadn’t gone after his water like the ravenous wolf he’d started out on these expeditions. “Yeah,” Eren said, one more quick, curious frown at his watch before Reiner called out to Ymir to cut her flirting short.

Weird.

He’d figured bad weird, since neither of them really knew how to talk to people and their starting point was all the yelling Eren wasn’t supposed to do anymore.

He slipped out his phone for a fast text, then put it away and got back to work, a little spark of okay beating out the worry and lightening his pedals.

----

i can’t text you during class, but ‘melancholic genius’ crystal wick can?

She doesn’t have my number. […] She was using Twitter.

----

It wasn’t because of what Ymir said.

Not really.

He would have done it anyway, eventually. She just brought it up when he was stable enough to do something with the reminder instead of stew in sad, guilty feelings that planted visions of pills in his head.

Eren scuffed his shoes on the welcome mat.

“The Doctor is Out,” it read, a sad smiley from a waiting room pain scale next to it, “But You Can Come In!”

Zeke had bought it. Eren had whined about how much time their dad spent at the office. The next day, it was on the doorstep, and his mom was telling his dad that they’d get rid of it when it stopped being accurate. Eren had said that wasn’t right, because they never told the people who knocked on their door to come in.

His mom never got rid of it, and it was back to being accurate. The doctor was out.

Before Eren could drown himself too deeply in that and why the mat wasn’t there when he came over for dinner, his mother opened the door.

“Eren,” she said. “This is a surprise.”

She looked worried behind her welcoming smile, but the kind of worried that made him want to stomp off and find a mud puddle to splash in out of spite. That kind of worry he could handle, even if it always ended with her trapping him in the laundry room and explaining how to get stains out of his clothes.

Eren rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Sorry. I can call ahead next time.” His shoes crunched over the welcome mat. “I didn’t know if I had to. I still have my key and I’m not here to…” He sucked at this. Worse than any text to Historia about which chart smiley she’d pick out for her mood of the day. His ears hurt listening to himself.

“I thought I’d patch up my bedroom,” he said. “I was going to do it even if you weren’t here, so I didn’t call.”

His mom raised her eyebrows at him. “You never need a reason to call your mother, Eren.” Before the barb sunk in enough for Eren to come up with a retort, she swung the front door the rest of the way open. “Did you bring tools with you, or are you borrowing?”

Eren followed in, the bag he’d brought along swinging from his shoulder. “Borrowing for anything that needs paint. I thought I’d use what’s left in the garage for that.”

“And this isn’t going to be like the last time you tried to fix the house by yourself?”

Eren’s ears and the rest of him went a very fine red.

He and Armin had lost an action figure down a sink. They knew if Zeke wasn’t the one watching them, there wasn’t a good chance of anyone deciding that the toy’s fate was anything but sealed, so turning up the volume on the movie that had inspired the soldier’s sink dive, they’d searched the house for a saw to crack open the pipe they were sure it was stuck in.

Eren could still feel the weight of his soaked t-shirt as he tried to hide Armin behind him in the puddle they’d created, his mom’s hurried footsteps rushing down the stairs at their yelps of surprise.

The main puddle showed up because they’d tried to fix the first without anyone noticing. Armin had slipped and almost hit his head when he had the idea that they could probably find instructions in a book somewhere, and if they were really fast…

They weren’t fast, and they weren’t quiet, and Eren’s mom had rolled in like thunder.

“Never,” she had said, holding him by the chin while his wrench clattered to the floor and the pipe kept spewing water all over the three of them. “Eren you listen to me. You are never to use tools like this by yourself. You find me, or your father, and if something needs to happen, we will use them, or show you how. You never try something like this on your own.”

Most of his parents’ ‘nevers’ didn’t last long. Loopholes or exceptions followed Eren around like weeds.

That one stuck. For Armin. The first time they’d had a problem in their apartment, they’d called home, just to double-check, before getting to work. It stuck worse when Eren’s mother snatched the phone from his father, who’d picked up, and told them to talk to their landlord before they took another step.

Which had come up before she shouted it into their ears. But then they’d had diagrams, and measuring tape, and Mikasa loaned them a hammer, and they could probably fix it by themselves.

The landlord hadn’t agreed.

Walls weren’t so hard, though. Patch jobs were one of the first home improvement lessons Eren’s dad put him through. He’d thought the house could use fewer holes, and taught Eren early. Eren could tackle walls alone. Even if they were his, and he had to walk by a closed door that made his heartbeat hit deafening and his breathing fall short to get to them.

Five minutes in, standing in the gaping mausoleum of a room that didn’t have any of his stuff but had scars all over, Eren wasn’t alone.

His mother, recently changed into what she called her work clothes, entered the room and went for the spackle.

“Mom,” Eren said. “What are you doing?”

“Putting my house back together,” she said.

“It’s my room.”

“You don’t live here anymore.”

“Yeah, but it’s my room. My—” damage. Everywhere. The holes from the fist he’d put through the wall, the hole from Zeke’s baseball going through the wall, the cracks from all those holes spiraling out and trying to link together, the tiny bits of plaster on the floor… Eren had stopped remembering his room had ever looked another way, but he knew those things weren’t supposed to be there. That was why he was patching them up.

His mother didn’t seem concerned with any of the emotional progress being waged. “I have a right to participate in my own household chores, Eren,” she said.

“You haven’t done anything about this for months,” Eren said. “You left it out for me to clean up.”

“Because,” she approached a crack by Eren’s elbow that hadn’t come from a punch, just a bad nightmare that felt like it cracked his skull just as badly, “any man I raised should expect to have to come back and clean up his messes.”

She ran her fingers over the mark before taking her putty knife to it. When she looked up at him, Eren realized he’d stopped working to stare. He realized it a second too late to escape the nudge of her hand on his arm, prodding him along.

“I did think you’d be along sooner,” she continued. “Am I that far down your list?”

Eren’s face burned.

He could feel her smiling next to him, and he wasn’t surprised when the next nudge was his mother reaching up to tweak his ear. “Or,” she continued, “am I not on your list because I’m your mother, and you don’t think you have to apologize to me?”

“I know you like apologies,” Eren said defensively.

“And I know how much you love giving them to me,” she said.

The rebuke was as gentle as she bothered with, but it still stung. Eren’s hands stopped again, and he stared into the wall, the crack he’d have to tend after the hole acting like a window into a whole different dimension. One where the only reason he knew he saw his mother that day was because he could remember shouting at her.

“Mom,” he started, all the good intentions and work ethic bleeding out into guilt. “I really—I...”

The words felt as hollow as his room did without pieces of him taking up the space.

“Fix the walls,” his mother instructed. “Then you can stay for dinner and tell me how Armin and Mikasa are doing. They stop by even less often than you do. Or that roommate of yours; we’ve hardly spoken. Frieda seems to be the only one of any of you who can remember her social niceties.”

“Mom.”

----

Petra would tell him that there was nothing wrong with starting out easy.

He didn’t know where to start with his brother? Mother was in the same ballpark, and as long as he kept taking steps forward, he’d get to where he needed to be in the end. There wasn’t anything wrong with baby steps.

There was maybe something wrong with thinking of his mother as one. He’d never been a great son.

Eren, stinking of paint and supposed to be going to wash off before dinner, was stuck in front of the closed door marking the center of the upstairs hallway. The midway point between Eren’s room and his parents’. The office.

Otherwise known as the gateway to most of Eren’s fits when he was younger.

“But why. Dad has two rooms I can’t go in, why does he get two?”

At the funeral after-party, the door had been open. No one had bothered closing it after his dad changed his mind and agreed to come along to the MMA tournament finals. Eren had told him he needed to see it, because he was going to come in first place for the first time, and maybe after he could talk to Mom and change her mind about how rough it was because it wasn’t really that bad…

His dad was the one who decided if the door was open or shut. He’d left in a hurry, so he wouldn’t be late. So the day of the funeral, it was open.

Eren had slammed it shut with his crutches.

Baby steps. Closing up walls. Cutting off some of Ymir’s ammunition.

Eren watched his spackled, paint-covered hand reach out and turn the doorknob.

On slow feet, he took a step in.

He immediately wanted to step back out. The blinds were drawn. They were thick, wooden shades designed to tell the sun its service was not wanted, and the entire room was plunged into night despite it being the middle of the day. Light from the downstairs windows was still bouncing its way upstairs.

None of it touched the office.

It smelled like dust. Eren could feel his shoes leaving prints in the carpet.

He’d never been allowed inside without his father’s permission, so by the time he was five, he knew the ins and outs of the room better than any other place in the house. He knew before he could reach which certificate on the wall stood for which achievement, even with every inch being covered. Whenever his dad received an award, Eren would talk him through which spot of the office had the most room to put it in.

Armin had hidden under the desk with him. Hide and seek. They were willing to risk it when Zeke was sitting for them. Then he’d turned that back on them and found them the second after he was done counting.

Eren wouldn’t fit under the desk anymore. It was big enough for one man and the work in front of him. Plus the piles on either side. There wasn’t much extra space. The picture frames on it were pushed all the way to the edge of the wood.

It might have fitted more if the back of the desk was against the wall, but his dad had liked it in the middle of the room, his chair facing the doorway. Eren had figured out, staying up late and listening to all the different footsteps in the house, that he liked it that way so he could stand up and pace in front of the window.

Baby steps.

Eren breathed in through his nose, exhaling slowly. His legs wobbled like they were trying to go back to the last time he’d entered the room. He was, but not like that.

In, out, dinner.

He passed the desk and went over to the corner, where the largest filing cabinet in the room stood. Without stopping to think about it, he dropped to the floor, cobwebs and dust joining the paint. If it was the other way around he’d have to come back and wash the floors.

Back in the far corner of the shadows, there wasn’t enough light for anything to glint back at him, but he’d always had what his mother called an overactive imagination. Nothing close to Armin’s. That defense had never worked.

He reached his hand into the dark and flicked off whatever bug tried to latch onto his fingers, groping around until his palm connected with a piece of cold, round metal.

Eren almost yanked his hand back out without collecting it. A flinch wracked his body like a shiver.

He grabbed it, and pulled his arm back into his chest, the rapid thump of his heart covering up all of the other sensations that came with it. His forehead was clammy, bangs sticking to it like glue.

He stayed on the floor for a few more minutes than he meant to.

Long enough for his ears to catch a different thump.

The lamp in the opposite corner of the room flicked on, and after an aborted pause that Eren could feel, his mother stepped over the threshold.

“Eren? Did you hurt yourself?”

“No,” he lied, into the dusty carpet.

She sighed, but didn’t walk any closer. The floorboards creaked under her stationary feet. Eren’s fist clenched around the object in his hand, and he made himself push his body back up, taking a string of cobweb up with him and blinking under the new light.

His mother did step forward when she caught sight of the new collection of dust all over his clothes. “Eren.”

“I already had to change,” he said.

She shook her head and pulled a dust bunny out of his hair. “You really do need to get it cut.”

Eren would blame the environment for why the only thing that he could think to say, and successfully made it out of his mouth, was, “Dad had long hair.”

She fixed him with a look that he had spent his entire childhood rebelling against. “Yes, and your father took care of his,” she said, coaxing strands of his hair apart with the tips of her fingers. “If you don’t know what to do with it, having more is always a mistake. All that exercise you do; doesn’t it get into your eyes?”

Eren crossed his arms and avoided eye contact. Longer bangs helped.

Only the angle he put his head at meant he was staring straight at the photos his father kept on his desk.

The dust blurred the images, but he didn’t have any problem recognizing the candid shot Mikasa had taken at graduation. Of him and Zeke grinning at each other, the summer sun beating down on both of them while Eren wielded his diploma like a relay baton.

Eren’s folded arms fell to his sides, the cold weight in one starting to feel hot enough to burn.

“I wasn’t going to stay in here,” he said. The words rang. He fumbled his grip and held the object out to his mother. “I wanted to grab this. In case you wanted it.”

His mother, full of smiles and competence for him all day, froze. She didn’t need any of the seconds Eren had when he’d raged into the room and found it waiting on the desk. She recognized the polished shine instantly. The watch she’d given her husband for their twentieth anniversary.

The one he’d died wearing, while his son listened to the ticking clock and stopped trying to be sane.

The one his son had picked up and thrown into a dark place no one would ever think to look.

His mom’s hands shook, taking it out of Eren’s hands. He didn’t think she saw the cracks in its face. She couldn’t know to imagine the blood entangling its joints. She just took up the watch, and held it the same way she’d held it out to Eren when she picked it up from the store. Asking for his opinion while Eren shrugged and told her to bother Mikasa with stuff like that, it looked fine.

“It was already broken,” Eren said. “From the accident. I didn’t help, but… it stopped working in…”

She looked away from the watch and up at his face. Eren bit the inside of his jaw, staring at the picture of him and Zeke and thinking about how hot that day had been and how no one except Armin had been interested in a color that wasn’t black for their robes.

Then he wasn’t staring at the picture, because his mother’s hair was in the way, and her arms were wrapped around him. She tugged his head down to meet her shoulder, and she smelled like sweat and paint and mom.

The tears couldn’t make it past his choked throat.

“I told Frieda I couldn’t even miss him,” Eren whispered. “I was too busy thinking about myself.”

His mother’s soft laughter buzzed his ear. “You got that from him.”

Eren would have pulled away if that didn’t mean leaving the hug. He didn’t think he was strong enough to ask for another. “What?”

She laughed again, kissing the side of his head and rocking him slowly back and forth. “Your father,” she said, “was a passionate, driven man, and he’d get so caught up in what he was doing I sometimes think if he didn’t sleep better in his bed he’d never have come home at all. It was always the next step, with no reason to look back.” Her head turned towards the desk. “That’s why he never made things right with your brother. He thought he failed so badly, there was no reason to repeat it all. Instead he tried to move forward with the damaged parts they had left, and…”

She sighed so heavily Eren wished he’d been the one to start hugging her. She pulled away slightly, tenderly smoothing back his hair and curling it around his ears. “I like to think we both had a part in raising that out of you, no matter how little you enjoy apologizing to your mother.”

“Mom,” he said, “I am so—”

“Eren,” she interrupted. “You have never been an easy child.” She cradled his cheek in her hand. “It is always something, even when you’re supposedly a grown man so far above our responsibility.” She sighed at him again, displacing the glinting tears in her eyes and using her thumb to rub away his. “I can’t say I’m happy with how you chose to be difficult this time, but… your father was a wonderful man, and truth be told, I don’t know how to be without him either.”

Eren fell forward, holding her as tight as he knew how and hiding his eyes in her paint-stained shirt. “…You’re doing better than me,” he mumbled.

“I’m your mother,” she said. “That’s my job.”

[next]

#drug au #fic #mine #long post

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