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honeybuckin10 · 3 months ago

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Code Blue - a Hawks x fem!lawyer!reader One Shot

Summary: Pre-Meta Liberation Army Arc. A hero’s birthday party on a night off blurs the lines of professionalism between the Commission’s rising junior prosecutor and a certain winged hero when secrets are exchanged [wc 5.2k (I'm so sorry)].

Warnings (nsfw): swearing, drinking, workplace romance, mutual pining, angst and fluff, everyone’s a dummy, mature themes, smut-ish, heavy petting. Characters slightly aged up (mid-late 20’s).

a/n: first time writing for Hawks and/or MHA, would love feedback. please don't be a ghost reader!

Nights off for heroes were few and far between. So when they did happen, usually all Hawks wanted to do was catch up on much needed sleep. But it was Best Jeanist’s birthday, which was how he found himself begrudgingly ordering a round of drinks at the bar for the handful that had gathered to celebrate their friend and colleague.

For the sake of Best Jeanist, he did his best to hide the fact that he was in sensory overload. His feathers only amplified the already deafening bass of the live band, coupled with the loud conversations, and the clinking of dishes, glasses, and silverware.

“Happy birthday! Sorry I’m late,” he heard the squeaky voice behind him. He turned around to see you giving the birthday boy a friendly hug before handing him a small gift bag with a card sticking out. You were a prosecutor for the Hero Public Safety Commission’s District Attorney's Office. Due to the nature of your work, you crossed paths frequently with heroes to gather evidence and build case files to justly put away villains.

The first time Hawks met you, you bumped into him in line at the Public Records Department on the second floor of the courthouse. Literally. Your face was buried deep in a case file, the *click clack* of your heels echoing as they hit the linoleum floor. Not paying attention, you walked right into Hawks’ wings, causing you to drop the plethora of papers in your arms.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention!” you said, not even realizing at first who exactly you had bumped into, though you did think it was odd that you had to spit out a feather.

The halls of the courthouse, like any government building, were unfriendly, bureaucratic and slow. Annoyed, he was going to tell you to watch it. The words began to form in his mouth, but fizzled when he turned around and saw you crouched down awkwardly trying to gather all your papers, your range of motion clearly limited by your stiff skirt suit and precariously balanced in your heels. At one point your hair was probably pulled back in a sleek bun, but more than a few strands were now falling out of place. He felt bad. So instead of telling you off, he knelt down to help you pick up whatever was left on the floor.

“It’s ok, these things can be hard to miss sometimes.”

Confused, you looked up to meet golden irises and a sly smirk. Your already rosy cheeks deepened from pink to red upon realizing who was in front of you.

“Oh my God. Mr. Hawks Sir. I’m so sorry.” You immediately got to your feet, straightening out your posture. Your eyes fell from his face to the very prominent crimson wings that hung majestically behind him. You grimaced. “Wow I guess I was really out of it.”

“No worries.” He handed you back the rest of the strewn files, your fingers just grazing. “So… come here often?”

He earned a small laugh from you, finally able to put you at ease somewhat even if only for a moment. “No… or yes? I’m not really sure yet. This is my first case.” A newbie lawyer, of course. You gave a strained smile, but the furrow in your brow gave your nerves away.

“Ah, welcome to hell. Prosecutor or public defender?”

“Prosecutor.” He smiled.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other, then.”

“I hope so.” Ever the professional, he was sure you didn’t mean for it to come off as anything more than introductory pleasantries. But he couldn’t help the little beat his heart skipped that caused his wings to flutter slightly. He hoped you didn’t notice.

“NEXT!” The voice of the elderly woman at the front desk boomed, hoarse from years of yelling and cigarettes. Hawks took one more look at you as your eyes kept darting to your watch.

“Why don’t you go ahead of me?” he offered. He could have introduced you to Beyonce and he was sure he wouldn’t have gotten the same reaction. You looked like a little kid on Christmas morning, but you did your best to hide your eagerness.

“Are you sure Mr. Hawks?”

“I’m in no rush, I insist. And please, just Hawks.”

“You’re holding up the line, you have five seconds to decide before I’m kicking you both to the back,” the old lady deadpanned. You looked at each other, eyes wide, both biting back shit-eating grins.

“You heard her,” he said. He took a step back, bowing slightly with an arm extended to motion you through.

“Thank you,” you mouthed wordlessly to him as you slid past.

“Good luck.”

That was almost two years ago. Since then, you picked up more high-profile cases, including the arrest and sentencing of Stain and had begun to make a name for yourself as a rising junior prosecutor. Two years of various long and agonizing depositions, witness prep, thousands of boxes of files combed through, late night arraignments. Almost two years of brushing elbows in the trenches, and this was his first time seeing you outside of a work setting. But for your voice, he wasn’t sure if he would have recognized you.

Your hair, free from its ordinary confines, fell effortlessly down your shoulders and framed your face perfectly. Sure, occasionally he thought about what your body might look like out of a suit, but the reality was better than anything else his imagination could concoct. Had you always had curves there?

Hawks had always thought you were pretty. But being the Number Two Hero with a predominantly female fan base, he wasn’t necessarily phased by looks. What did phase him was that big brain of yours. You wouldn’t be good at your job if you weren’t insanely intelligent with a work ethic to boot. Hawks realized he had a crush on you after the first time he saw you try a case in person. It was a trial for one of the villains he had taken down and you enlisted him as a witness. Seeing you in court charm every single juror in your opening and closing statements, expertly cross-examining hostile witnesses, keeping your cool in the face of a disrespectful opposing counsel – that’s what got his heart going a mile a minute.

So now here you were in the wild, not in a suit, saying hello to everyone like the social butterfly you were. Your exposed skin was like the answer to a riddle he didn’t know he was trying to solve. He tried not to stare, staring was rude. Staring was also causing his wings to have a mind of their own, puffing up and fluttering away ever so slightly. He turned his back again to hide them, and took a sip of beer trying very much to go unnoticed.

“Um, excuse me ma’am. I’m going to need to see some license and registration for the absolute dump truck you got behind you,” said a devilish Mirko after tapping your shoulder. Your laughter rang out, cutting through the other noise in the bar. Hawks tried to pretend he didn’t hear it, though the corners of his mouth threatened to tug a smile out of him. She’s not wrong.

“Hawks, doesn’t y/n look good in this ‘fit?” He didn’t know how or when, but he was going to kill Mirko. He blamed it on her sixth bunny sense that she’d somehow sniffed out his feelings for you - though it was probably the fact that she noticed he stopped entertaining one-night stands months ago.

“Mirko, have you considered that y/n would like to have a night out without being harassed?” Even in the dim lights of the bar, he could tell your cheeks were flushed. And despite the nonchalant act he was trying to put on, he was sure his face was about the same.

“Hey, I was just giving a compliment,” the bunny said mischievously. She gave Hawks a wink as she backed away, but not before mouthing “If you don’t fuck her, I will.”

“Hi,” you said cheekily, blissfully unaware of the chaos around you.

“Hi Counselor,” he said, no longer able to contain his smile. He dipped down to give you a hug, hoping the way he inhaled your perfume went undetected. His senses were permeated with vanilla and cedarwood, followed by the smell of your floral shampoo. The warmth of your body spread across his chest, and he tried to memorize the way your soft hands felt so small resting on his shoulders. Reluctantly he pulled away.

“So how much catching up do I have to do?” you asked. Hawks swirled around the last of his beer.

“This is my second, but I can’t speak for the rest of my – uh - colleagues,” he said as he glanced at Mirko who was now forcing Best Jeanist to take a shot.

“Ah, I see,” you said slowly, following his line of sight.

“So what can I get you to drink?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You buying me a drink, Hawks?” He rolled his eyes as you elbowed him in his side wiggling your eyebrows.

“I needed a refill anyways and my tab’s already open. Don’t let it get to your head,” he teased back.

“Oh don’t you worry, I will.” The bartender placed two beers in front of you. You took a long sip, as you watched the hero swirl is drink. Something was off and you were going to get to the bottom of it.

What Hawks was actually thinking as he stared at his beverage, was that he suddenly had no idea what to say or do with his hands.

“So are you going to spend the rest of the night cowering in the corner? Didn’t think you’d be the wet blanket of the bunch.” He nearly spat out his beer.

“I’m not a wet blanket,” he said defensively.

“Prove it.” You stuck out your hand. “Since you bought me a drink, I think I owe you a dance,” you said with a smirk. He looked at you thoughtfully.

“You owe me nothing except your friendship.”

“Oh we’re friends now? I thought we were colleagues,” poking fun at his earlier comment. He didn’t like the hole you were digging him into. He could flirt with a brick wall, yet for some reason the workplace flirtations that had escalated for two years between you two were not translating to the place where they would be most appropriate.

“I, uh, tend to get in the way. Better not.” He tilted his head towards his back where his wings hung lamely.

“Oh come on don’t be a party pooper,” you gave an encouraging smile. His eyes met yours only for moment, but looking at you was like looking directly into the sun. So he kept his eyes on your hand while he found himself uncharacteristically tongue tied. He took your extended palm, but didn’t budge when you tried pulling him off the barstool. He sensed your breath hitch as he held you in place. Your eyes traveled from your now interlocked hands to his face. “Hawks…?”

*beep* “We got a code red. I repeat, code red. Over.” *beep*

The noise came from your purse, pulling you both out of whatever trance you were in. He raised an eyebrow. Sure enough, you pulled out a walkie talkie and brought it to your mouth.

“Rescue effort deployed, over.” *beep*

His golden orbs finally met yours, your eyes swimming with sympathy.

“I’ve been summoned. I don’t know what’s going on here, but come find me when you’re done sulking, yeah?”

He released your hand and watched as you disappeared into the dance floor, but not before he saw you ward off an unwanted suitor leering over Mount Lady who was still gripping the sister walkie-talkie.

He settled back into the bar seat and chugged.

“I thought you were fun at parties.” Best Jeanist saddled up beside him, dropping off his empty round. Hawks groaned.

“Not you too.”

“It’s my birthday, you’re obligated to be nice to me. Not that I thought it would be so difficult for you.”

“It’s my first night off in months man, I’m just a little tired.”

“We’re all tired, that’s no excuse.”

Hawks felt guilty, Best Jeanist was right. Embarrassment bubbled in his gut, though maybe that was just the beer.

“Relationships are like a new pair of high quality jeans –“

“Please stop.”

“At first, the fibers are stiff. They take a while to break in, may even feel uncomfortable at first. But after a few wears, the fabric relaxes and molds to the wearer. The perfect denim…”

“Are you done?”

“No. You knew she was going to be here tonight so what gives?”

Hawks ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

You and Hawks had been at it for hours. You let out a low groan.

“Can you grab that box for me? I can’t reach.”

Hawks couldn’t help himself. You looked so cute on your tip toes arms extended. The persona you exuded in court was bigger than life, but outside that you were quite ordinary. He liked that you weren’t so infallible that you were beyond the need for his assistance.

The boxes of evidence filled the office, floor to ceiling. You had gone through most of them, only one pile was left. Technically he didn’t have to be there, but he’d bumped into you in the halls of the HPSC long past most had left the building. You explained your plight that the other junior associate assigned to the case with you had bailed. It was for one of the villains he’d captured anyways, so he volunteered to help.

“Yeah, I got it Birdie.” He walked over to where you were, but you didn’t budge. Stubbornly you continued to wave your arms as though you’d be able to summon the box clearly out of reach through sheer will alone. It was, in a word, adorable. So he perched himself behind you, pressing against your backside to absolve you of your struggle. He was being mindful of space - was the story he told himself, which was a lie. It would also be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy it.

You inhaled sharply and instinctively closed your eyes, his cologne infiltrating your nose. It’s not that you and Hawks hadn’t made physical contact before, it’s just that it was mostly in the form of professional or friendly touches. Like handshakes or pats on the back or nudging arms. There had only been a handful of other times where there was accidental increased contact, and each time felt like an out of body experience. This was no different. You tried not to push your ass into him as he reached above you, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. Meekly, you let your arms drop to your sides as a shiver rolled down your spine.

You only turned around when you heard him drop the box on the ground. You let your back land on the stack of boxes against the wall. You drank in his form, mere inches away from you. Jacket and gloves long discarded, you admired the veins in his forearms and the contours of his muscles that shown through his shirt. You knew he caught you staring, but you didn’t mind.

Hawks stared right back at you, silently enjoying the way the collar of your blouse, now partially unbuttoned and lopsided, showed off your clavicle. Your hair once perfectly coiffed now fell in a loose bun, strays falling around your face. Your half-lidded eyes beckoned him to close the tiny gap between you.

Maybe it was sleep deprivation that he forgot who you were (his coworker) or where he was (inside your office in the building of the HPSC). All sense of rationality went out the window the moment Hawks decided to take a step forward. Your eyes followed as he placed a hand next to your head, then trailed up the length of his arm back to his face, finally focusing on his lush lips that were suddenly very close. You held your breath as you patiently waited for impact that never came. His beeper went off, startling you both and cutting the moment short.

That was last night.

You were a lawyer. You followed rules. You enforced rules. Not that sleeping/dating a coworker was illegal, but it felt like you were doing something wrong. You weren’t each other’s superiors or subordinates, you weren’t in the same department, you checked the Commission’s bylaws and there was nothing else explicitly prohibiting romantic relations between employees. But you were still scared to disrupt the status quo.

You didn’t think much of it at first. You knew Hawks flirted with anything with a pulse. So you didn’t see the harm in giving him a taste of his own medicine every now and then. You weren’t sure when you started having actual feelings for him. It might have been a few months ago when you got to your office in the morning after a long night of work, only to find a coffee and a crimson feather on your desk. When had you told him your coffee order? All you knew was that the exchanges that once felt like an inside joke now seemed like cruel and unusual punishment, a reminder that you were nothing special and that this was just how he acted with everyone.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out on the dancefloor. Your feet were starting to hurt. Mirko had fed you two shots and you were now nursing the remaining ice from your second gin and tonic. With clear liquor and cloudy eyes, you felt your confidence draining as the night wore on, no sign of The Winged Hero in sight. Did you go too far? Did you horribly misread last night’s events? Was he avoiding you?

You felt a pair of hands grip your hips, pulling you out of your daydream and realizing you had no idea where everyone else was. Your hand flew to your purse to grab your walkie-talkie.

“Don’t tell me you’re about to code-red me.” Your eyes immediately lit up as you turned around, too much alcohol in your system to play coy.

“You came!” Your hands excitedly drummed his chest. Your grin was infectious. He leaned in to make himself heard over the speakers.

“Of course I did. Just took a while to find you, you’re pretty short.” His hot breath tickled your ear.

“You think I’m pretty?” you drawled, a lazy smile plastered on your face. The initial panic in his eyes softened as he realized your mistake. He didn’t have the heart to correct you, nor were you were wrong.

“That’s not what I – yeah… you’re pretty.” You pressed yourself up into him on tip toes, cupping a hand around his ear.

“Can I tell you a secret?” His heartbeat quickened, his own sobriety lacking along with his social filter. He should have shut it down, but instead he said:

“Always.”

“I – “

“Hey, watch it with those things.” His wings, again having a mind of their own, had inadvertently fluttered a drink out of a nearby patron’s hands - and he wasn’t happy about it. He was about to apologize, but you beat him to the response.

“Clearly it was an accident, why don’t you watch it you bitch-ass – ” On one hand, he thought it was very sexy how you tried to defend him. On the other, you were simply not threatening no matter how hard you tried and the last thing Hawks wanted right now was to ruin what felt like the most important moment of his life with a bar fight.

“I am very sorry sir, it was an accident. Feel free to use my tab the rest of the night,” he said to the man as he picked you up by your midsection and carried you away before you could finish the sentence. Even as you retreated, you continued your death glare towards the stranger who was left very confused.

Hawks placed you down in a corner where his wings and your sharp tongue hopefully wouldn’t cause any further disruptions. He leaned his back against the wall just to be safe.

“So do you usually go around starting bar fights?” he said with a smug smile.

“Me?! He started it and I was defending your honor,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re welcome,” you said defiantly. To your dismay, the hero let out a hearty laugh. “Hey!”

“I’m sorry. You’re right, you were very scary,” he finally got out as his laughter slowed.

“Don’t lie,” you pouted.

“It was really cute.” He was still laughing, but you were starting to sober up.

“I said don’t lie.” Your meek voice was barely audible in the still boisterous bar. His eyes softened at your hardened expression.

“I-I wasn’t.” He was suddenly very aware of your surroundings, which was next to the line starting to form by the bathrooms. Loud chit chatter and crying coming from the ladies’ room mixed with sound of someone audibly vomiting from the men’s room was not exactly how he pictured this going down. He took your hand and started walking again.

“Ugh, where are we going now? Our friends are still there,” you groaned. Friends. Why was that word so easy for you, yet rolled off his tongue like sand paper?

“We can go back inside in a minute, but I want to talk.” He’d led you out the backdoor of the bar. You looked around, clearly confused.

“Dude, what is happening?”

“I couldn’t hear you in there and we were next to the bathrooms.”

“So you dragged me out to an alleyway next to a literal dumpster. Got it.” He looked around just to check if you were correct, which unfortunately, you were.

You couldn’t be serious with each other if you tried. Snorts and stifled giggles filled the alley, overpowering the dull bass from inside.

“I guess I really know how to set the mood, huh.” He scratched the back of his head, admiring the scenery.

“I didn’t know there was a mood to be set.” Your tone was inquisitive, free of judgement. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all night.”

Hawks took a deep breath, trying to gather his growing nerves. But he was a coward who’d rather fly into a burning building than share his feelings so he deflected.

“You said you were going to tell me a secret in there. What was it?”

Your felt your cheeks immediately burn. The liquid courage you had before was wearing off so you volleyed back.

“You have to tell me a secret first,” you said defensively. Hawks rolled his eyes.

“I’ve already told you two secrets tonight, you just weren’t paying attention.”

“Like wha- oh.” You brought a hand to your mouth to cover the audible gasp that left your lips. You wondered if Hawks was embarrassed. If he was, he hid it well under the guise of a knowing smirk. It was at that moment you noticed how his gilded eyes shone spectacularly under the dim glow of the nearby streetlamp. Perhaps the embarrassment, if any, was also pacified by how clearly flustered you were by the culmination of all that had transpired in the last 24 hours. You crossed your arms. “Well… I still need one more secret from you.”

“Wow, three for the price of one? Now you’re just overselling it.” He stopped teasing when he saw you pouting again. Not a playful pout, but the kind that made it look like you were about to break. He never thought of you as fragile before. He grabbed your hand, averting his gaze.

“You have to promise to keep it a secret, ok?” You nodded, squeezing his hand for reassurance.

“I promise.” He took a deep breath, finally gathering the courage to look you in the eyes again.

“Keigo.”

“What?”

“Keigo,” he said again. “Keigo Takami. That’s my real name.” Your eyes widened in horror realizing you’d made him compromise his own security. You frantically began scanning your surroundings for any unintentional witnesses. He grabbed your shoulders to steady you.

“Oh my god, Hawks, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to –“

“Shhhh it’s ok there’s no one else around. You didn’t force me, I want you to know. Please, call me Keigo.” He watched the rise and fall of your chest, trying to monitor your labored breathing. Again, this was not going as planned. Not that he really had a plan to begin with. But even if he did, causing you to go into cardiac arrest surely was not on the list. Your breath finally started to slow.

“Keigo,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. You liked the way his name felt on your tongue, so you said it again. “Keigo.”

He tried to suppress a smile, watching how the corners of your lips tugged upwards. His hand, seemingly acting on its own, stroked your hair as he continued to sooth you.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” which was another way to say he’d never heard a more beautiful sound in his life than his real name falling from your lips.

He tried to lighten the mood, not wanting to cause you any more distress than he already had over the course of the night.

“Not to brag, but this better be one hell of a secret ‘cause–“

He didn’t get to finish the sentence. You grabbed him by the collar to bring his lips to yours in a messy, fervent kiss that took his breath away but was over in the blink of an eye before he could act or process.

You pushed him away slightly as you caught your breath, looking just as surprised as he was about the whole ordeal.

“I-I’m sorry I should’ve asked –“

He crashed into you as he held both sides of your face, afraid you may float away if that beautiful mind of yours started to overthink as it often did. The force knocked you into the building behind you, but you didn’t mind. Wandering hands traveled over each other’s bodies, both eager to explore foreign skin. Your tongues danced in unison as you body tingled under his erratic touch, grabbing your arms, back, hips, waist, hair, whatever he could hold onto unable to stay in one place for long.

You couldn’t stop your own hands from feeling the muscles you’d watched from afar for so long, enjoying the ripple of his abs, the sturdiness of his chest, finally landing around his neck. You pulled him impossibly closer, spiteful of the little space that still separated you. His wings protectively caged around you, shielding any prying eyes from your compromising position.

In an extraordinary display of restraint he kept a hand on your ribcage, his fingers delicately ghosting the band of your bra over your clothes, his intent clear but never crossing boundaries. You smiled into the kiss deciding to take advantage of the new privacy as you placed your hand over his to guide it to its true destination. He let out a groan that reverberated against your lips as he squeezed the soft flesh under him, still in disbelief that he should be so lucky to experience all that had only existed in his imagination. He swallowed the soft moan you let out when he grazed his thumb over your sensitive nipple that peaked through the fabric of your top. You rolled your hips forward desperate for friction, and he eagerly returned the favor. You gasped at the feeling of his bulge against your pelvis, which you realized was the first time you’d come up for air since you locked lips.

His mouth traveled down your neck until he found a sweet spot that made you squirm. Your hand also made its way south, but your path was halted by his calloused hand when you reached the waistband of his pants. Hawks might fuck you in an alleyway outside a bar, but Keigo wanted to build you the softest nest to lay you on because you deserved nothing less.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of you neck as his other hand drew little circles on the small of your back.

“Technically… that wasn’t a secret,” he whispered into your skin. Your chests rattled against one another as laughter escaped your lungs.

“You’re an ass,” you said through fits of giggles. He nipped a little more at your neck, encouraging you on. “If you’re going to make me say it… I wanted to kiss you. Tonight. And last night. And the day before that. And the week before that. And –“

He kissed you once more to cut you off, but this time it was sweet and soft. It made you feel calm and centered. So when he pulled away, you decided to share more.

“Can I tell you another secret?”

“If it’s anything like the first one, absolutely.” He brought your captured wrist to his mouth, leaving a trail of small kisses over your hand. Your heartbeat that finally started to slow picked right back up.

“I’ve never flown before.” You not-so-subtly glanced at his wings before looking back at him, eyebrow raised. He gave you a wicked grin.

“Yeah I can give you a ride little bird. Not to be presumptuous, but uh… your place or mine?” You pretended to think hard about the proposition.

“Hmm. I’d say appropriately-sumptuous, and… dealer’s choice.” Hawks had found his way to your neck again which made thinking straight quite difficult, but you persisted nonetheless. “Though… maybe we go back inside and table this for another hour. I feel bad leaving without saying goodbye.”

Hawks moved up the column of you neck until his breath was in your ear.

“I’m gonna go on a limb and say, I think it would make the birthday boy very happy if we didn’t.” Despite the blush that crept to your cheeks knowing you may be the subject of workplace gossip tomorrow, your core clenched in anticipation at his words. The hero could tell from your dazed expression that it was time to go. That was, at least, until the walkie-talkie in your purse went off again.

*beep* “Code blue, y/n where are you? Over.” *beep*

You could see his sails deflate when you pulled out the device, assuming once again that his plans were foiled. Not one to put up a fight, he moved towards the door to reunite with everyone. But you didn’t budge, squeezing his hand to hold him in place. He watched closely as your other hand brought the walkie-talkie to your mouth. The playful twinkle in your eyes told him all he needed to know.

“The eagle has landed in the nest. Over.” *beep*

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grenade-maid · 11 months ago

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there's a lot of reasons more people aren't into yuri that are troubling to consider, but equally, I genuinely think it cannot be understated how much of it comes down to most yuri being boring as hell. Like truly. I've been reading the front page of Dynasty Scans like it was the newspaper for 15 years I am not exaggerating I can show you the download file data 15 years.

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers was back in 2009?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers is today in 2023?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

Don't get me wrong, Yuri has grown a LOT in that time, to the point that most people today wouldn't even understand a Maria-sama reference if it were dropped in front of them (thank God). It's expanded and evolved to encompass more stories about adult women, wider varieties of scenarios, a greater acknowledgement of real life lesbianism, and is more comfortable showing girls kissing with tongue and having sex.

Yuri Manga is maybe the best is it's ever been, and it's also getting the widest readership it's ever had in the English speaking world. The titles we carry at work are always on back order with long queues, and, when I've asked them, most weebs of all gender or sexualities report keeping up with at least a few Yuri series.

At large though? Most of it is still really boring. That's not a bad thing necessarily. I like it because it goes down easy. For the most part any series you pick is gonna be pretty chill. Even shit from Sal Jiang which is PRETTY EDGY for yuri is a pretty breezy read. More serious ones like How Do We Relationship? cover some pretty real subjects about how intimacy is actually quite difficult even when both of you love each other, but it's not like... Exciting. Yuri isn't where you go to pump your fist or get perched on the edge of your seat.

So when the comparison is made to yaoi, well, I mean, have you READ any yaoi? Even in some of the more restrained titles those boys are likely to be sucking and fucking balls and all within the first volume or two. There's gonna be drama, intrigue, shit is gonna get messy, passions are gonna get heated, clothes are gonna be ripped off, people are gonna get sold to One Direction, it's stuff you can sit down with a bowl of popcorn with you know? Stuff you can message your friend and gush Hey Can You BELIEVE? A lot of it is pretty trashy, but that's the appeal. The generic state of yaoi is torrid and exciting and sexy. Ultimately, as a species many of us like to see pretty people fuck. In yaoi you'll get that. In yuri you won't. Nothing wrong with that, but it is gonna be a major contributing factor to their relative popularity.

It's also worth making the comparison to hetero romance manga, which has undergone a renaissance of it's own in recent years. There's now a whole meta around crafting a handful of mean shitty grouchy dysfunctional bully women and flinging them at the protagonist of the day who, unlike in years past, may actually have a face and personality. Most of these are also very trashy and truly scrape the bottom of the bucket in terms of writing.

AND YET?

I would bet money on the fact that you'll have heard of these women and probably even have a good idea what they're like without ever having touched a page of their manga.

I'm sorry but the straights are whipping donuts around the yuri girls in terms of delivering a wide variety of weird compelling fucked up women. How many yuri leading ladies by comparison can you point to as standout recognizable characters even divorced from their story? There's definitely a few, but not many. I'm not talking quality or depth of writing, I'm talking straight up pure recognizability. There are many beautifully written women in yuri, now more than ever. I can't think of many who'd like, get a figure made or have their face splashed on merch, though.

I don't really have a conclusion here. I love Yuri a lot, but at the end of the day this is just kinda the state of things right now.

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thecoolerliauditore · 4 days ago

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Can i propose a wild thought to you that I'm rattling off as I just thought of it

Have you considered the lizzie-scott parallels/contrasts?

One of my favourite things about Lizzie is her perpetual "i meant to do that!" attitude she approaches everything with. She thinks herself the leader of sorts and the only compitent bamboozler but my girl is just as big of a loser and klutz, she's just gotten slightly luckier so far. Its why I love her and Jimmy, they both think they're the responsible one when really they play hot potato with the braincell except neither noticed the braincell was replaced with an actual hot potato. She's better at certain things (remembering things and deduction in particular) but none of those things are surviving and its completely negated by her curiosity.

But anyways my point is that like Scott she tries to pretend she's competent and the smart one who is babysitting her teammates, keeping them under control, when she isn't any of those things and actually she cares a lot and is internally screaming all the time.

She's just capable of dropping the mask to be vulnerable. Or, yknow, aware it is in fact a mask in the first place. At the end of the day Lizzie can open up and apologize when she does something silly or says something a bit too mean. She'll just find something new to puff up her chest about.

She's also a sweat, she's just really bad at it.

(Sorry I could probably compare seablings vs fh more to emphasise my point but im trying really hard to keep to the point of this ask without going on tangents and I don't trust myself to not spend 3 hours writing about seablings and forgetting the whole point if I do (also you could also probably compare joel/lizzie to your scott/pearl stuff but 1) i think that probably works better comparing joel and scott more than lizzie and scott and 2) i think comparing their relationship with the same person even if its a different type of relationship might be more revealing and 3) i'm bias))

I ACTUALLY HAVE PONDERED SCOTT AND LIZZIE BEFORE. Not to any level that I feel is worth its own post or anything but they definitely do have a handful of common points that have sent me spiraling in the past (<- guy who really, really likes death games in general and totally didn't try to map out a full hunger games AU at one point. and put scott and lizzie in district 1 together because it just makes sense and has horrifying implications for both of them).

Anyway this is all very true, I hadn't even considered it in the context of their relationships with Jimmy but it makes a lot of sense with the whole. Awhhh I have to Keep Him Alive oop there he goes I guess he'll be die next session 🙄🙄 sort of energy they both try to embody. And how it's kind of performative for both of them, but I think I'll have to let the season play out a bit more before I form any sort of opinion on Lizzie's treatment of Jimmy. (I'm forever sad that Lizzie missed out on three seasons I feel like she might've been a smajor level blorbo to me if she was just there more)

This is a little on the meta side but from what I understand Scott pretty much started off his youtube career with Lizzie's guidance post-WoW-party so I suppose it makes enough sense that he takes after her so much on a persona level as well. Except he's a lot worse at embracing the tongue-in-cheek insincerity. That thing you said about the mask.

I do think Scott is at least acutely aware of his performative nature too, just less willing to acknowledge it for what it is. Lizzie is lying to you, Scott is lying to you but more importantly lying to himself. And that's the difference that I think makes Scott so much more. Dangerous? I suppose would be the word to use. Other than the fact that he is just overall a lot better at being a sweat in general but I'd argue even that could be seen as part of his constant need to keep up his perfect image.

Anyway I'm very unfamiliar with Lizzie and Jimmy's dynamic so I'm excited to see how it goes and even moreso with the comparison to my guy now planted i n my mind. Cheers I loveee stuff like this.

Also sidenote I do find it very entertaining that I'm as predictable as I am <-- has thought about scott/pearl and joel/lizzie as foils alot especially in LL

#asks

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saintsenara · 2 years ago

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metas on ships

- in defence of amicable divorce - miscellaneous tomarrymort headcanons - thoughts on wolfstar from a non-wolfstar fan - unrequited prongsfoot is canon - why fandom needs to stop sleeping on dron - wow, luna is impossible to ship with anyone...

sirius black/severus snape

- could snack work as a couple in a world where james lives? - snape, sirius, childishness, and the werewolf prank - snack's sexual dynamics - miscellaneous snack headcanons

hermione granger/ron weasley

- romione are the best canon couple - no, ron and hermione wouldn't need couples therapy [no, they really wouldn't] - the best romione moment in the series [now with part two and three!] - are jily and romione meant to be narrative parallels? - would i write romione as the main pairing of a fic?

lily evans/james potter

- james and lily were love at first sight - would james and lily's marriage have lasted without the war?

remus lupin/nymphadora tonks

- a remadora answer which will please nobody - lupin's idealisation of tonks during their relationship - lupin's relationship with his sexuality, in remadora and snupin

harry potter/ginny weasley

- hinny's best narrative parallel? bellamort - ronarry versus hinny

severus snape/nymphadora tonks

- the stonks manifesto - stonks and the euphoria of queerness

severus snape/lord voldemort

- the snapemort manifesto - time-travelling snapemort would be a disaster

on...

short-form looks at various ships...

out of which snape has emerged as the fandom bike...

unhinged and deranged...

send me the wildest pairing - platonic or romantic - that you can think of and i'll answer it here...

#bit of housekeeping #asenora meta

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scrumptiousstuffs · 16 days ago

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As much as I love talking about how pretty First is (he's so pretty! And as far as anyone knows a total sweetheart which is even better), can we talk about how ridiculously talented he is? He just becomes his characters like sliding on a second skin, it's insane. And the microexpressions and subtle changes in his eyes...I feel like it's such an underappreciated form of acting but he does it so well I never want to stop watching him. And he just keeps getting better and better. I can't wait to see what he does with Kant. Everyone keeps saying that these characters are different from what they've done before so im so curious. And also I'm just ready to have a flirty First character on my screen again.

Well, anon - where do you want to start? I’m going to say upfront, I’m not the most eloquent writer in writing meta or analysing any actors acting capability or their characters on screen.

There are other blogs who write all these beautiful meta re: The Eclipse and Only Friends. @bird-inacage wrote many thoughtful analysis of them. Please feel free to read them. Other links: Link 1. But also, just search for “The Eclipse meta” or “Only Friends meta” and so many good commentary from various blogs will pop up. You may agree or disagree with them but I personally find it fun to read through what other people think of the series and the characters in general.

Anyway, back to your topic of the greatness of First Kanaphan as an actor. I agree with all your statements regarding his acting capabilities.

I am entranced whenever First is on screen - whether he played a suppressed queer teenager in high school or the broken, lonely banker to the gruff bar singer with the heart of gold.

His eyes are expressive and the control he has over his facial muscles…exquisite 👌. The way he shifts from one expression to another with us (the viewers) being able to tell them without that much of a change? - it’s definitely a wow everytime I see it. I mentioned previously in a different ask I find First fluid in his acting.

People will argue his character in Not Me (Yok) is the best out of his current projects. I will argue otherwise.

Yes, Yok allowed First to showcase his poweress in acting. First as Yok was able to show massive range from being loud, stubbornly opinionated, flirty (or slutty in First’s own words) etc. before we see him ultimately breakdown when he got betrayed. Definitely A-class acting 👍.

However as Akk, then Alan followed by Sand - these characters are more reserved at baseline and not as “colourful” of a character as Yok. And to some extent, these roles are more challenging (for any actors) to showcase “range” as they need to be able to internally express it without big emotive or gesture.

But the way First embodied them - with just a slight twitch of his jaw, tightness around his lips or when he allowed his eyes to darken with anger or lust (depending on the situation) - we as the viewers can always tell what the character is feeling, and that’s what make him an amazing actor to watch on screen.

And since this is my blog and I can do whatever I want, I’m putting up examples from each series post Not Me:

1) The Eclipse

When Akk first met Ayan in the teacher’s bathroom and saw Ayan’s tattoo - we (and Akk) all got distracted by Ayan’s sexy tattoo. But the quick flick of Akk’s eyes 👀 to that tattoo followed by the slight widening of his eyes and then shifting to hardening his glare while at the same time quick gulp of his throat? - all of that occurred within seconds….and I remember watching this scene thinking oh, Akk definitely has some unwanted thoughts on the new kid

Or when they were wrestling on the judo mat, and Akk pinned Ayan down - teasingly asked the latter to try and free himself. He was smiling down at Ayan but the minute Ayan slide those arms around his neck, the way his smile faded and you can see gay panic in those eyes….

They are of course so many more examples including Akk mini-conversation with his mom at night when he hesitantly tried to explain the pressure he was under at school but ultimately chickened out cause he didn’t want to burden him mom (and you could see this written all over his face).

2) Moonlight Chicken

There was a previous ask, where that anon said he found Alan the most pathetic character out of all of First’s projects. And I will again reiterate here, with the limited amount of screen time he had, First sparkled whenever he came on screen.

The way you can tell his frustration over his destroyed relationship while trying to cling on it cause he just doesn’t know what he did wrong for Wen was painful for us viewers to watch. And I don’t know about you, my heart breaks for him when he broke down after Wen finally screamed at him that he only slept with Alan cause he felt sorry for him - you can again see the flick/shift from anger in Alan’s face to shock disbelief and humiliation when Wen said that to him. You could see the self-loathing in his face after Wen left the living room. And as he silently cried on the floor of their apartment, I cried with him.

Or when Alan finally had his talk with Wen at the bbq restaurant, you could read the quiet resignation in Alan’s face as Wen finally break it off for good by sliding his promise ring back to him.

3. Only Friends

Even from the first episode, when he brought Ray back to his apartment - after Ray puked his guts out and as Ray snuggled on Sand’s shoulder - you could read the half amusement, half exasperation on his face while they both just sat on that bathroom floor.

Or when Ray finally got his chance with Mew, and Sand saw them dancing in the club. We see the wistful, sad boba eyes of his. And when Ray confronted him outside the bar, that cracked in his voice as he told Ray “you and I were never friends.” - yeah, my heart again breaks for him.

Or how about the angry-lust driven kiss in that music room (before Top interrupted them). You could see the mixture of anger, almost despair in Sand eyes, the tightness in his jaw and you could see the tremble in his lips. But even with all that, us as viewers clocked on how much he loves Ray (Ray knows that too…hence why he pounced and kiss Sand)

Plus when Sand confronted Top at the hospital - the narrowed eyes, the low, even tone of his voice where you know he is just barely holding on to his temper

I can go on and on…but I’ll stop here.

Anyway, like you, I’m looking forward to seeing more of him as Kant - I have no doubt we will see him nail it as a flirt (or as First keeps insisting, sugar daddy?). However, I’m also looking forward to see his interactions with Babe, Style and Fadel cause I’m sure we will be blessed with more masterclass in microexpression!

#asked and answered #first kanaphan #firstkhao #First is both beautiful and talented #both my boys are #the eclipse #only friends #moonlight chicken

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broodwolf221 · 4 months ago

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I love your writing and meta so much and have burned through most of your fic already, so I trust your judgment! Do you have fic recs I should check out? Thanks in advance!

oh no i cry 😭 pls this is so sweet.....

gotta start with the recent gift i got from arlathan exchange bc it is soooo good! sweater has a gorgeous, vivid writing style that i really enjoy. this one is spicy! 🔥but seriously her writing is just So Good? i love the way they set scene and tone

hunger by @fadedsweater / sweaterghost on ao3

In the moonlit dark of Mythal's palace there is a hunger that rumbles beneath the sprawling marble floors and shakes the foundation of each gilded pillar. It is a hunger that spreads like smoke and burns like fire. Solas has known this hunger for a long, long time. Solas visits Mythal’s court, intent to sway her from her current warpath. Meanwhile, Mythal can't help but notice that he has gone far too long without feeding. Ancient Arlathan, but with vampires.

my friend jazz has been getting into da and they've written so much lovely stuff for it, always with really excellent characterization and fascinating premises. one of my personal favs from their writing is this exploration of cole and vivienne's relationship

wellspring by @jazzmckay / desiredemon on ao3

Long ago, Cole promised, "I can protect you. If templars come for you, I will kill them." Vivienne never expected such a thing to ever take place.

i still need to finish this one and this is a nice reminder to get on that, but this writer has an extraordinary style and their handling of solas is so good?? i'm in awe tbh. seriously beautiful writing.

though my language is dead (still the shapes fill my head) by @darethshirl / mafalda_157 on ao3

She gazed up at him, silent and calm, green eyes unblinking. Outwardly she was the very image of tranquility, her expression as unmoving as the surface of a vast clear lake. If any thoughts or emotions lurked somewhere in those depths there was no way to tell. - This veiled world will always feel muted. Still, Solas tries his best to communicate.

another spicy one, but playwithdinos has suchhhh a vivid style and there's just something so lovely and profound about it. my first introduction to her writing is this one, and her depiction of solas is fascinating i love it.

the switch by @playwithdinos / @dinoswrites / playswithdinos on ao3

Lavellan usually lets Solas take charge when they're alone, but she's back from slaying the Fereldan Frostback and she's not in the mood to bow to anyone. Fill for this kink meme prompt: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/13696.html?thread=53207680

anddd another spicy one (anyone else sensing a theme here?), this writer is... wow. wish i knew their tumblr if they have one so they can know i'm gushing about them beyond my comment. this is a delightfully messy and complex examination of how solas/andruil/ghilan'nain might happen, and i'm absolutely enthralled by the characterization of andruil and ghilan'nain here - and solas as well!

Power, Intrigue, Danger and Sex by Hezjena on ao3

When Solas later recalled the evening, he liked to imagine it was the result of careful manipulation, a triumph of his skilled diplomacy and a delicious trickery where he allowed himself to be underestimated… rather than the result of too much ice wine and morbid curiosity. *** That time Solas accidentally-on-purpose has a threesome with Andruil and Ghilan’nain in Ancient Elvhenan.

okay, rosie's writing is So Good? i'm always super impressed by how she describes scenes and also just... the layers. seriously. the foreshadowing is always amazing. her handling of solas is sooo good and also? an extraordinary artist? too powerful tbh <3

In the Blue Morning by @rosieofcorona / rosieofcorona on ao3

He wants to stay like this forever, wants the sun to forget to rise, wants the castle to sleep and sleep in an endless dream. But the light keeps coming, every moment. The castle will wake, and they will see. And this will cost them, in the end.

i could so easily keep going tbh but this is already getting long and i might've passed the @'ing limit already lmao

#this is so sweet tbh....

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eisforeidolon · 9 months ago

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Sure, the premise of the poll itself is hilarious enough, thinking that after everything they'd been through, Sam accidentally (let alone on purpose) offing Castiel would have any lasting, substantive effect on the Winchesters' relationship [X]. But it's some of the comments that really got me as a fascinating window into just how skewed all the bizarre projective meta desperately trying to create a storyline that doesn't exist has left heller memories of the show.

Times Dean legit offered to kill Sam just for Cass: 0 vs. Times Dean offered he and Sam would try to kill each other for the resurrection of the entire rest of the world which included Cass: 1

Times Dean committed/tried to commit suicide over Cass: 0 vs. Times Dean threw his life away/gave up on life/committed suicide/threatened to commit suicide over Sam: at least 3 vs. Times Dean put himself directly in unnecessary mortal danger/committed temporary suicide for VoTW: at least 2

Times Dean killed someone Sam cared about or got someone Sam cared about killed and it didn't fundamentally change their relationship after the plot arc ran its couse: 2

Times Dean killed someone he cared about for Sam: 1

Times Sam was blamed for getting someone Dean cared about killed while Dean had the KILLYOURBROTHER murder mark of rage and it didn't "heavily damage" their relationship: 1

Like, writing six thousand tons of meta does not actually make Dean's lip service "best friendship" with Castiel his first priority in canon, let alone make him in lurve with Castiel, and certainly not to the point of wanting to die without him. It does not make temporarily killing himself explicitly to talk to ghosts with the stated intention of being right back about Castiel. It does not make the recklessness inherent in that decision magically unrelated to Mary being sucked into an alternate universe and probably killed by Lucifer, Jack's unpredictability and powers, as well as Crowley's sacrificial death for them. Seriously, the amount of scenes angsting about all the other things in that stretch to pretend it's some kind of ~*widower arc*~ about Castiel's death alone is fucking hilariously massive. It does not make his getting killed by monsters suicide, any more than literally every hunt they ever went on was an attempted suicide. Dean is depressed and reckless when the whole world is gone to shit and there's another looming apocalyptic event and Castiel is also dead ... wow, he must lurve Castiel! No, don't you dare remind me of the interlude in the finale where literally nothing else is wrong and he's clearly happy despite Castiel being dead, lalalala can't hear you! Or how much fun he was clearly having at that wrestling match immediately after finding out Castiel was possessed! Or or or. I'm not even going to touch the assertion Dean's relationships to Sam and Jack are fundamentally similar, because ... I can't.

TLDR; no amount of credulous, blinkered meta and reinterpretation alters that the canon directly shows over and over again ...

Times Dean chose Castiel over Sam: 0

#destihellers #shipping goggles of inanity

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potterandpromises · 5 months ago

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the LA plot for omitb has the trio in hollywood bc a movie is being made about them and based on the onset pic with their actor counterparts (they were wearing what the trio was wearing in the pilot ep), part of the movie theyre making is set during s1 which theo is an integral part of so most likely there might be a character based on him in the movie too. do you think they'd have theo in s4 in any capacity? id honestly be upset if theyd drop theo the way they dropped oscar

*Spoilers*

I am at least 95% certain Theo will be in at least one episode of season 4. Mostly because they wouldn't have brought him back in season 2, fleshed him out, then brought him back and fleshed him out again in season 3 if they didn't want him around for the long haul. They especially would not have had Mabel move in with him. In other words, the writers seem more invested in his character then they ever were in Oscar's or Lucy's.

The ≈5% is in case there was a scheduling conflict/other issue with James Caverly (which I think is unlikely, just based off of interviews and what I know of his career.) My understanding is that they wrote Oscar out at least in part because of a scheduling conflict, though I'm not actually sure. Or I could maybe see Theo skipping a season if they star-packed the cast so tightly they decided they didn't have time for him. But season 3 had a similar set up with a bunch of new faces and they still made time to have him come in, help out the with case, sweep Mabel off to his apartment and then peace out, so I'm expecting season 4 will likely be similar in that regard.

Side note: I don't think we'll get a Theo and Will story line this season, because of the aforementioned star-packing. Which is too bad! I'm predicting James Caverly and Ryan Broussard will be in another One Killer Question together where they'll talk about being brothers and I will have to silently scream about how we're deprived of seeing them together in the show. One day!

Anyway, as to whether Theo will get a doppelganger, I'm agnostic. He is an important character in season 1, but I don't know that the in-universe OMITB movie will end up getting made, and thus get to the point of the story where Theo would need to be cast/shown (wow, this is getting too meta, I don't know how to write that sentence.) The script leak I saw indicates that the counter-trio will be following our trio to New York, for research, I'd assume. In real life, many adaptations start pre-production and don't end up getting made, so we won't definitely be seeing that adaptation. It's also possible the plot will diverge significantly from the podcast, like the Brozzos reboot, and he won't even be a character. Though the clothing and method acting would suggest that's probably not the case, at least not at first. Again, I'm agnostic as to where that whole thing will end up.

I'm expecting lots of meta comments on Hollywood and writing. Like aging-up Mabel's character so there isn't such an age gap between her and the guys (because audiences "won't believe" their friendship otherwise? for romantic possibilities?) but still not casting an old women, because misogyny. If they do have a Theo in the movie, I wonder if they'll address disability erasure when it's seen as too difficult or not narratively interesting, or the issue of casting abled actors as disabled characters.

Also, and this is a side note to the side note: Selena was seen filming as Mabel in the courtyard while the wedding set was up, wearing a baby blue sweater and mini skirt similar to the one she worn in 2x07. Mabel only wears blue in (or directly before/after) episodes where she's with Theo. Climatically it's about matching his color scheme/apartment, emotionally it's about getting closer to him. Now, this could be a stretch. I've tried to think of ways it could be stretch, like it could be to match someone else's color scheme, I guess. But the pattern is real. So that might put your mind at ease a bit, too.

The too-long-didn't-read of it is that while I think we had real reasons to worry last season, the writers keep committing to keeping him around and Theo has multiple storylines set up for the future. So I wouldn't worry. As for an OMITB movie counterpart, I have no idea, but wouldn't hold my breath.

#omitb spoilers #only murders in the building #theo dimas #omitb #omitb s4 #omitb season 4 #omitb theories #only murders in the building spoilers

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lamialamia · 6 months ago

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Mota ep 3 rewatch thoughts

I watch this one on my transatlantic flight as well! And lemme tell you, a very interesting experience. Sometimes my own plane would shake and I would be like, wow, immersion, 4D, I'll never be a pilot or any person who fly planes ever.

Anyway, the thoughts™️:

One of the best episodes (period) in the entire series

Insanely well-paced. The battles the dialogues the metaphor and theme of "difficult choices with no real answer" is so well done

So interesting that the riddle at the start of the episode is not in the script! Because it's the thesis of the entire episode haha I write my own meta [author note: i can't find my own post because i don't properly tag anything in this blog ever my bad] after the episode aired for the first time and I still stand by it: Curt and Quinn faced the same choice, chose differently, and neither led them to Valhalla or eternal damnation

This episode didn't have any narration! HOORAY!

the less narration an episode of MOTA has, the better it is. I have cracked the code.

I believe that the Quinn and Baby Face sequence is one of the most tragic scenes of all HBOWar. It is up there with many other deaths, injuries, traumatic scenes across all four shows. The kind of impossible decision that must be made, and no matter what, it is impossible to say Quinn was wrong. And vice versa, Curt doing his best to try to save Dickie was also not wrong.

Have I say that the theme of "making impossible decisions" in this episode absolutely rocks??? BEcause it does *foaming at the mouth*

The genius plan to force the guys to fly the mission without backup into the depth of Germany. Genius. Absolutely genius.

And by that I mean horrible and stupid beyond comprehension.

The speed of which these men die in any mission is portrayed so clearly in this episode.

Bucky isn't subtle in how much he cares about his boy bestfriend and his boy bestfriend the most. "Is Buck's fort still with us" Calm down man, people are dying here!!!!1!

The aerial combat is superb. I'm a sucker for great combat sequence I can't lie. I need these shit coursing in my vein.

I think the only critique I have for this episode is the very obvious LED scape at the end? But honestly, I have a very high tolerance for bad CGI and I have made my peace with this scene.

#it's fine to have bad CGI imo #mota #hboww2rewatch

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anattemptatmeaning · 4 months ago

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You're the Only Friend I Need a Trobed fic

Author's Notes: Wow I have been very inactive and I'm also going on vacation so I rushed to finish this, I'll beautify this post along with my BT fanfic later. I saw this beautiful Trobed artwork on Tumblr by @greatredangel and it made me think of the song Ribs by Lorde. Then I visualized them dancing at a bar to the song while Abed is having bittersweet thoughts. It became this. Hope y'all enjoy Troy and Abed in a ba-ar! Again?

Also I just realized really late that Ribs was released three years after Mixology Certification aired but oh well, I love the song and I try meta-referencing my misstep in the fic lmao. Comment and feedback is well-appreciated! This is my first time writing Community fanfic and I hope I didn't screw up, especially with writing Abed. He's the best. They're all just the best, I love this show so much. Comments and feedback are appreciated! This whole thing is just wholesome romantic fluff with very light angst that gets resolved anyway, no trigger warnings! This made me so happy to write!

The Trobed artwork that inspired this: https://www.tumblr.com/greatredangel/751692320042287104/youre-the-only-one-who-understands?source=share

Ribs by Lorde (which I encourage you to listen while reading): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b7pE8AG1jjE

My Trobed companion playlist for this fic: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4IgAlyGazQxVwHcmZyIdah

Someone stormed away.

That’s how it always happened.

Abed didn’t choose to have more interest in dissecting the implications of Farscape being an influence on the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the ragtag character dynamics of the crew of the Moya , or the suspicion that Greendale was headed in a similar direction to the fourth season which, frankly, he might have preferred to get interrupted before speaking about.

Not that he had a choice. One of the few people who understood his references was interested in something more…carnal.

But Abed knew what he liked, what he thought, what he was good at. And being straightforward with it, absorbing and deconstructing every little detail?

It was what passion was. At least for him.

The inner workings of bumbling off-duty patrons drowning their daily sorrows into looking to score, on the other hand? Not at all.

He did see it coming. He was all but waiting for the rejection. But it was fun talking about Farscape .

While it lasted.

Nevertheless, it was Monday. And as expected, he was just fine. It was an odd night.

His thoughts turned to Troy. With the study group more amped up than usual due to the alcohol, he realized Troy got left alone due to the ensuing drama.

Thus ruining his birthday.

“Hey, Troy?”

Troy looked at him. Abed felt that rush of energy that always came whenever he did. “Yeah, Abed?” It was cliche, but the birthday surprise trope was still a classic. “There’s something I forgot to give you for your birthday. Happy belated birthday, by the way.”

A surprised smile lit up Troy’s face. “Really? This is too much, man. I’m still losing it over Kickpuncher.”

“I figured. With the abundance of alcohol in the study group, perhaps an easygoing, intimate night out on the town as Troy and Abed should make for a nicer birthday. Shall we?”

Troy clapped his hands. “Let’s roll.”

They did the handshake. Their handshake.

Abed was not a driver.

He legally was, but avoided it unless it was an occasion where he absolutely had, or even more rarely, wanted to.

This was one such occasion.

“No way, is this the same bar?” Troy gaped slightly, moving forward in his seat as he recognized Flannahan’s Hole.

“The second chance trope is a bit stale, but a well-done redemption arc works wonders,” Abed confirmed as he parked the car.

Troy laughed as he and Abed got out and headed inside. It looked exactly the same as it did on Troy’s birthday: just like any other bar, albeit apparently the least offensive of them if Jeff and Britta’s word was anything to go by.

To Abed’s relief though, the man from earlier wasn’t there.

“Abed?” Troy asked. Abed immediately recognized his hesitating tone, and felt something akin to a pang in his heart.

“Troy?” Abed knew he talked quickly, but his response was a bit faster and more urgent than usual. If Troy was nervous or on edge, Abed might as well have ruined another birthday for him.

“I…don’t really want to drink,” Troy began, taking a breath and looking to the ground, gathering his thoughts. Then Troy locked eyes with him.

Momentarily, nothing existed except Troy.

“When I was ordering my drink, I…I saw how out of it everyone was, staring off into space, not able to feel much of anything, not able to do much of anything…we just didn’t look happy.” Troy’s tone was candid, kind, mournful, his usual cheerful energy replaced by a more careful, concerned tone.

“So, I didn’t drink. I got everyone and drove us home.”

Abed remembered that as the other members of the study group were drowning figuratively or literally in their personal misery, Troy was the one to bring them back together.

“Sorry,” Troy said with a bit of uncertainty, embarrassed when he shouldn’t have to feel bad because Abed reminded him of a day he had to hold everyone else together.

When Troy deserved one where the roles were reversed.

Abed swallowed. He wanted to say only the best possible words.

“Me neither, honestly,” he started. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s your birthday.”

Troy smiled, the previous moment forgotten. “Thanks, Abed.”

A new song started playing overhead in the bar. Abed squinted his eyes slightly.

The drink you spilt all over me…

He undoubtedly knew movies better than music, but the song felt out of place for some reason. Was it a continuity error? He hadn’t heard it on the radio before. Weird.

My mom and dad let me stay home…

“Do you want to dance?” Troy’s question shook Abed out of his thoughts, and he looked at Troy, calm yet eager about his suggestion. Abed couldn’t help but oblige, and the song piqued his interest the longer he listened to it.

”Sure.”

How you wish it would be all the time…

There wasn’t a whole lot of space within the bar, so Abed and Troy just moved close to a few empty seats. Unlike some of their choreographed or improvised dance routines which were occasionally elaborate, they kept it simple due to the nature of the event, and the difference this particular song had from their usual background music.

It drives you crazy getting old…

Abed was coolly and steadily hopping up and down, raising his left, then right leg to the beat. Troy took to clapping to the beat as he got into the song.

Abed didn’t have many great memories as a kid.

This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets…

But right here, right now, dancing alone with Troy, he knew.

This. This was what childhood was supposed to be.

Doing whatever you felt like doing, not worrying about anything else, just having fun.

So what if he was only truly living it right now, as a film student in the most chaotic community college in the world?

He was living it. And for however long it would last?

It feels so scary, getting old....

He would enjoy it.

Abed hadn’t realized he had his eyes closed the whole time since he started dancing until he opened them to look straight at Troy.

Everything else went still.

Troy had a smile of pure ecstasy and euphoria and was moving completely of his own accord, not trying to impress, not having to try anything , just…dancing, and enjoying it.

We can talk it so good, we can make it so divine…

His hips swayed perfectly as he bounced to the beat, his knees smoothly kicking out as he bobbed up and down, not breaking a sweat. His head twisted from side to side, carefree and peaceful. He moved his elbows and hands up and down rhythmically with ease. And of course, that smile.

Has Abed seen Troy dance before? Many times.

But none so picturesque as this exact moment.

Then Troy opened his eyes. If things were still before, it wasn’t comparable to this.

I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, the minds we had, the minds we had…

Troy’s eyes were a bit more serious, curious, and earnest. He stepped closer to Abed, still perfectly on beat.

How all the thoughts, how all the thoughts, moved ‘round our heads, moved ‘round our heads…

Abed was still slightly moving his legs to the beat, but he was focused on stepping as close as Troy saw fit.

I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, the minds we had, the minds we had…

They kept moving closer. They didn’t notice the bar patrons staring.

It’s not enough to feel the lack, I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, I want ‘em!

And their lips touched. Their eyes closed as they danced more slowly now, their arms now touching each other. Supporting each other.

He’d never let him fall.

You’re the only friend I need, sharing beds like little kids…

They just stayed there, now only slowly moving from side to side once every measure of the song, their grip on each other soft not to overwhelm, but steady, never to let the other go.

And laughing till our ribs get tough, but that will never be enough… “YEAH!” yelled people in the background as applause and cheers were heard, the first time he had focused on the outside world in a bit. Abed rarely ever had applause and cheers for him, neither did he seek it, but in this specific moment, it invigorated him. It did the same for Troy, as they briefly removed their lips to take a breath before diving back in, emboldened.

You’re the only friend I need, sharing beds like little kids…

Troy and Abed released each other, parting with powerful, slow breaths. Troy was staring with him, those same earnest eyes, but with total adoration and awe.

Based on his expression, Abed knew he shared the equivalent facial expression.

And laughing till our ribs get tough, but that will never be enough... “Good enough?” Abed asked Troy at the song’s end. Speaking to him was always comforting, but it felt like it had escalated to a whole new level now.

“Never better,” Troy answered in the most angelic, warmest tone Abed had ever heard.

They basked in the joy of the rest of the bar, all of them happy for them, for Troy and Abed. Troy laughed, equal parts blushing and grateful. Abed nodded at them in equally thankful acknowledgement.

As they walked out, Abed caught the eye of the guy from earlier. He must have come in after them.

Compared to his more irritable, sour impression upon their first meeting, the bar guy was glad, sincere. He had a gentle, knowing smile. There were a variety of meanings he could derive from his face. First of all, he felt bad for his behavior during the last meeting. Secondly, he was happy for him and Abed.

“Hey, I see you're going through stuff, and I'm sorry I didn't see that earlier,” the bar guy started a bit awkwardly. Then he seemed to be emboldened himself as well. “But I get it now, and I'm happy for you. For the both of you."

It was validating, to say the least.

“Thank you,” Abed responded. “It was a better night.”

“I can see,” the bar guy giggled, looking at the two a bit sheepishly. “Okay, okay, we get it,” Troy was trying like mad to calm down, but he was clearly bashful.

As Abed drove the two away from the bar, they were quiet for a long time, processing the moment they just had.

Troy broke the silence first.

“Abed…is it okay if I want more moments like that?”

Abed had never felt so at peace in his life.

“I was going to ask the same thing,” he said in a soft tone he didn’t even know he was capable of.

Troy beamed yet again, and initiated their running gag. Abed immediately caught on. “Troy and Abed to-ge-ther!”

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