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aineryeo · 3 years

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Sweet Tea ௹ OSAMU

Sweet Hibiscus Tea — Better Twin. 🍵

SYNOPSIS: You are not a protagonist but your best friend definitely is. When will you ever be, sweet little side-character? » 6.2k Words

THEME: A li'l bit of a slow burn love story, angst, just a treat as my first fic in a year. | Bit of profanity, cussin', teen drama. And use of dialogue references!

NOTE: Low-key felt like this was crap, rip. I still love you so much ‘Samu :( I may have not written this the best

If you were to think of what your role in life was, you were sure you were a comic relief character, and your screen time was just cut short because the viewers in the show you call, “Life” are not giving you the best reviews. With the amount of times you felt like you were cycling through all your days the same, waking up… Waking.. Up.. Wake— Yeah, that was about it.

Everything else was an objective agenda. You were a sufficient klutz, whatever that paper was. You ponder, in your inner monologue while you’re tapping your push-pen on your school desk in Inarizaki.

“— And we’ll be designing our own living rooms as part of the Course Outline for Interior Studies in the general subject.”

You had a best friend, continuing to ignore the incessant babbles, you say as you write a little note to remind yourself to think of a living room design to finish the work quickly later. You had a best friend, who you can easily say is the main character of life. You swear, as she sat close to the window, and how she wasn’t mean, she was charming; it was so hard not to like her. But she’s also insecure, keeps to herself enough, having you by her side.

“Hear that ‘Samu?”

“What now, ‘Sumu?”

“Interior Designin’! Weren’t ya listenin’ ya scrub.” Bleach-blonde hair.“What about it?” Disinterest; Bleached hair too, but ash-grey.

“Ain’t Kori-Kori real good at stuff like this?”

You observed the two famed twins of Inarizaki High. Actually no, you were forced to; how? Well, you sat between them, not like that ever stopped anyone, nor did it ever interfere with your boring experience of being a 2nd mid-year Senior. You just wanted to get up, and leave, get a job or something; not going to lie.

“Is there anyone talking at the back right there? Anything the class would like to hear, pretty sure.” Professor said, which immediately shut the two up, the other was blatant and oblivious, even whistling.

“Guessed so.” Your professor went on right after.

Your chin was resting on the heel of your palm now, but you felt someone roughly, no really, they roughly tapped your shoulder, the touch was from a clearly heavy hand. It came from your right, which was…

“Hey missy, pass this on to my brother, will ‘ya?” He grinned widely, his other hand that held the pen used to write a note in the torn paper from his notebook that most likely didn’t have any notes despite it being mid-year. You let out a bit of a grunt, not moving from your position, but you did use your hand that was tapping your table to pass it on to the other Miya without sparing a glance.

“...”

Your arm was about to die.

You turned to the other Miya, a small frown on your face as he ignored your outstretched hand, his eyes were closed, arms crossed but he was definitely not sleeping, it was obvious enough. So you tried to aggressively wave your arm that held the letter while keeping an eye on the doting teacher upfront, trying not to be obvious. His brother had noticed that he was ignoring you as well, shrugging when your frown deepened, back straightening on your desk, your free hand now tapping on your table instead of being a rest for your head.

“Hey ‘Samu ‘ya jerk…!” Atsumu whispered, a volume tad higher, to his brother who proceeded to ignore him; and technically, you too.

You groaned and ignored the two, equally annoying twins that are involving you into a situation you don’t want to get involved in. So you just slammed, actually no, not slammed exactly but you did harshly place the torn paper that contained some unnamed letter from Atsumu directed to Osamu. Wistfully, this was noticed by your professor.

“Y/N. I believe it’s been made clear that passing notes is not allowed in my class, rather, on any occasion that involves other subjects as well.” They scolded.

You sucked a breath in between your teeth, your hand ran through your hair in an attempt to calm you down. “Switch seats with Yokori. This seating will last ‘till the end of the year, ‘lest you misbehave again. This applies to everyone else who has been swapped constantly.”

Yokori gave you a solemn smile, knowing you hated this, she gathered her belongings and quickly sat to avoid any more trouble; even opting to give you a pat on your shoulder on the way to her desk near the window, though not quite beside. One classmate separated you from being directly beside the scenery of school grounds that held the gym where your schools’ famous volleyball team resides for practices. Actually, this classmate was one of their players, Suna Rintaro? Your impression on him was that he was quiet… Enough, if not provoked or talked to at all, which you guessed was part of your luck. Because you were definitely not going to talk to him, less it required you to by any of your classes together.

So you sat, your professor continued, and your eyes landed on your best friend that sat on your previous seat, since your first year of middle school. Bored expression on once again, your thoughts dialed back, and you noticed a quick interaction from Atsumu towards your best friend who flushed slightly from the two’s attention, noticing that even the twin who ignored you earlier began perking up, just a little bit. And the feeling was slight but you felt a tinge of annoyance, proceeding to push it to the back of your mind, not letting the feelings against your best friend surface. Because she was good, and undeserving of it, obviously.

The bell rang, it was time for lunch!

Lunch is a happy time, because you can buy yourself chocolate, and you can, well, eat lunch. What else is there for? You were bored out of your mind at home after doing your homework, and studying enough for the day so you practiced cooking. Which you admit, was very enjoyable, especially when you finish. Today was tuna sushi rolls, seaweed-strapped spam meat, seasoned rice, and hot tamarind soup in your insulating tumbler. You didn’t notice light gray irisess eyeing you in your little daydream about your lunch for today.

“Y/N, you good?” Yokori, said best friend went next to you, who had just finished gathering your lunch bag. You nodded, smile small. “Yep, let’s go.”

The class dispersed quickly, you two walked side-by-side as she timidly told you a story about her situation earlier.

“So Atsumu-san was passing notes to his brother Osamu, right? T’was so weird because they kept asking me questions, but Atsumu-san was nice, he wanted help with that Interior Designing project we have going on.” She laughed, scratching her cheek. You nodded along to her story, she was used to your rather quiet demeanor, she knew you were still listening. “They said it’d be cool to attend their after-school volleyball practice.”

“Mmh. Really? They’re annoying though.” You humored her, to which she chuckled.

“I mean… It shouldn’t be bad to try it, right?” She said with a big grin, bright.

You jutted your lips forward as you bobbed your head in agreement, already taking your chopsticks and lunch out when you found a free table. “I guess so.” You said, mouth chewing on a roll.

You pour a portion of soup to get the food down your throat onto your tumbler’s cap that serves as the cup, and drank, “So I told them you’re coming with me, I’d be too nervous by myself… Hehe..” and spat.

“Kori, what?”

“Come with me…” She looked at you, nervously smiling with her eyebrows raised in mock questioning, “-please.”

“Okay.”

“I promise, I’ll ask you next ti— wait, really? Holy shit, Y/N, thank you! I’ll pay you back, for sure. I didn’t expect you to agree quickly, d’you have a crush on any of the VBC members, perhaps?” She teased.

You were eating continually, mouth full of rice as you pointed your metal chopsticks toward her. Speaking with your mouth full, “I don’t think there was any point trying to say no if I’d say yes in the end anyway. It already happened, what can I really do?”

She nodded in understanding, you were always like this, relaxed about what happened around. It was worth idolizing, at least. Your head felt like it was burning, the back, you mean. Was someone staring?

You were now sitting outside of the gym, deciding to hang around outside instead of watching sweaty boys play for hours. Kori became more relaxed, so you took the go-mark and asked to leave when you noticed that she was. The team was fond of her, you note, Shinsuke Kita the Captain even thanking her for thinking of buying them snacks and helping them around with their manager to fill up the boys’ water bottles. The team gave her attention and copied their captain in terms of providing gratification for her deeds. You heard her ‘lax conversation next to the banter with the twins that was a normal recurrence.

You were simply a drifting particle, a bystander.

Actually wait, you remembered that you had packed yourself a little snack in case you had to stay in school for some surprise activity you forgot about, or situations like this exactly. So you took out your little box of homemade onigiris, not noticing the figure looming at the door. It was their break, and you were about to bite.

“Hey, that yours?” You hear, stopping your bite mid-way, turning your head to see ash-grey.

“Huh.”

“Ya deaf or what, missy?” The nerve.

You looked at him, and bit on the prism-shaped rice, then looked forward once again, closing your eyes even. ‘Till you heard shuffling and a sleazy figure sitting next to yours. That was when you opened your eyes, mouth slightly agape. Osamu Miya, sat next to you, his legs spread, and his arms were holding his whole posture as his head faced yours.

“If yer gonna look at me like that, the least ya could do is gimme one, little miss.”

You shook your head and swallowed. “Stop calling me little miss, old man.”

“Hoho, old man?” He says, humoring you, you can smell his cologne from here, mixed with sweat from his practice. He leaned forward, his arms now intertwining, resting on his knees, he was facing you with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’d call you shit hair but your hair ain’t the color.” You shrugged, but it was the type of shrug where you slightly move your hands outward. So when you did, the hand that held your bitten snack was when the big fox ate his fill. “Mm, tastes good.”

“Fucki-” You screeched. His eyes went wide when you just shoved the onigiri in his mouth, “It has your germs now, better not choke, gran’pa.”

Osamu was trying to give you a snide reply back but he couldn’t, with the rice stuck in, he just kept chewing. As you stood up and yelled to Kori that you were leaving. You were a side character, nothing more, you thought; as you walked away from the boy who had tried reaching to you, but you failed to notice.

“So… He invited me to their house to hang out.” Yokori said happily on the phone, you were trying to sketch a few designs you felt like doing so hummed, already quite satisfied, spinning on your chair right after. “So…”

“No.”

“But I haven’t said anything yet!”

“You were about to ask me if I can come with you because you’re nervous to go alone, the usual, hm?”

“...”

“Hm?”

“...Yes.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“N-”

“I’ll order you takeout pizza!”

“...Okay.”

You heard her cheering yes! On the other line, to which you just slumped in your chair to. And so, the day came and you were right behind Kori, who was knocking on the Miya residence as of the moment. The one who greeted the both of you was Osamu Miya, you internally groaned, their parents were off, you heard.

“Tsumu!” Your best friend smiles, greeting the other twin brightly; and smiling so wide at the twin at the door. “Hello ‘Samu!” She said, before the blonde had pushed past the door to beam at her.

“Brought your li’l friend along, cutie?” Atsumu jokes, rustling your friend’s hair before beckoning the two of you to come in. You walk past Osamu who you had mild grudges with. Your friend turned to you, “I’ll be helping Atsumu with some plates for the project, we’ll be up in his room!” She said, innocently.

“Mmh, okay. I’ll stay here?” You asked, more to yourself, you didn’t really know where to stay. This wasn’t your place.

“Accommodate the guest ‘Samu, I need’a do important school stuff.” Atsumu waved off as the two walked up the stairs on the way to the boy’s room, pretty sure. You stood there in the middle for a couple minutes, unsure. The renowned ‘less annoying’ Miya was sitting on one of their kitchen stools, his cheek digging into his palm, just staring at you. You stared back. He stared back. You were both staring.

You broke. “Not gonna let me sit, or anything?”

“Sit anywhere or something.” He droned, still looking at you. He was enjoying it.

So you looked at the couch beside you, then spared a glance at him, about to sit until he spoke again, “Hmm, not there.” He said in his low voice that contained an underline of mockery, you were sure. Though to him, it was simply amusing, to watch you that is. If anyone outside the two of your observing based gazes, he was actually sporting a noticeable smile. A small triangle smile, as if he was shy to make it any bigger, in hopes of hiding something.

You tried the two other chairs, the floor, leaning on a wall, but it was all a reject. You were embarrassed every time. Did you really have to go through all this just to get takeout pizza? You’d have to ask more later, that's for sure. So you tried for a last option, there was a tall stool right beside his, and well, three others far from him. So you tried the farthest tall stool from him, which was the far left. He shook his head no, you furrowed your eyebrows, you moved to the second stool, still no? Every move made your head wrinkle further down ‘till you reached the last seat, right next to him. To which he finally said, “Got it, pretty girl.” with a big boyish grin.

You didn’t have time to react to the nickname before finally letting out a sigh as you stretched your arms, and legs before laying your head on your arms that were resting on the table in front. That whole interaction probably took at least half an hour, you didn’t really know, you didn’t have a watch. “Pretty, my ass.”

He hummed, resting his head on his arms as well, though he was facing you. “Yer ass is.”

“The fuck.”

“Ya got a bad mouth.”

You groaned, and buried your face in your arms. Wanting to escape this. But you were lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t subconsciously enjoy his attention. You weren’t used to it, you weren’t supposed to feel this, right? It wasn’t, it just, it’s not you. Right? You shook your head to which the boy watched you do, getting your head up, posture straight and looking at him. He looked back, like he always seems to do.

“What do you want from me?” You say.

Osamu kept his mouth shut, still looking into you, thinking of what to say. Unwilling himself to tell you what he’d rather. So he asked a question, “D’ya cook?”

“Yeah, I make my own lunch and snacks.” You said, wary. Already feeling suspicious, you raise both your brows.

“Let’s cook.” He suggests.

Here’s the thing, you can’t do anything right if someone’s watching you too intently. It feels awkward, who in their right mind is able to do this right when he’s gripping your wrist that was stirring the batter for what the both of you decided to make, muffins.

“Ya gotta put in the right amount of strength.” He instructed.

“I’m starting to regret mentioning that I don’t bake often.” You thought, you thought you just thought that it was only in your thoughts. Oh no, you were becoming redundant, was it always this hot?

“Yer burnin’ figuratively, and literally. By that, your eyeballs are wide as fuck.” Osamu pointed out, he was biting his lip, to keep from a wide smile. “Tryna bake with yer hot gaze?”

What? “Huh.”

Now Osamu had wide eyes, I think it came off more sultry than intended. So he moved away from you as if you were burning his skin, though technically, you really were. Playing it cool. “What?”

“My what.”

“Yer… What?”

You were staring at him with a confused expression, about to open your mouth when, “Hey scrub! Make me a snack, I’m starvin’ over here.” Atsumu yelled from the room, you heard Kori’s small laugh and a faint, “Don’t be so mean, ‘Tsum.”

“Right. Let’s put ‘em in the tray then straight to the oven, yeah?” Osamu started, standing next to you, his face was not quite visible due to his wide shoulders, if you knew better, he might be obstructing your vision to not see the steaming heat from his ears. Spoiler, you did. But you chose not to poke at a sleeping bear.

“You sick? Got red ears?” You poked at a sleeping bear.

Actually, you were expecting a snark reply, it was easier that way. Just be sarcastic back. It was when the both of you were done, and placed the tray containing the muffin batter in the oven to bake, did Osamu dip his index finger in the bowl of slightly empty batter, facing you, and licking it off his finger. You really tried, you did; you tried not to look at the way he did that so unabashed. Dipping the same finger on the last remaining batter before menacingly leaning closer to you, inches from your face. If you could measure it exactly, 2.8 inches? So close.

Your weight moved from the heel of your foot to the front, again and again, what was he doing?

“What are you—?” You began before you got cut off by his finger wiping the batter on your lips, it made it look like you had a mustache. You stood there surprised for a few seconds, not knowing how to react, and hated how you expected something so different. It was until you heard a click of a camera and a low chuckle vibrate from the boy in front of you that you took the few remaining flour that was right in your reach to throw it in front of his face, making a huge fog of flour. He coughed for a bit, his eyes were glistening as he took the bowl next to him, using his whole hand to wipe leftover batter, getting ready to chase you.

You noticed. So you ran, but not without screaming, the leftover flour bag in your hand.

“No, please,”

“You asked for it, pretty girl.” He replied breathily, both of you were circling the kitchen island.

It took a good ten minutes before he decided to jump the island, and ran to quickly get hold of you with both of his arms, his hair tickling the side of your neck which made you laugh too hard, flour was all over his hair and apron, you failed to notice the handprint of batter right on your chest because you were struggling so hard to get off his grip. He was laughing too, you put on your scowling face, though not really mad, to face him, who in turn faced you as well. You didn’t notice the distance between the two of you was nearly non-existent; I repeat, nearly.

“Hey ‘Samu! I’m starvin’ and I smell yer bakin way over in my room.” You heard quick footsteps down the stairs, which made you jump in your skin. But even with that speed, you were still caught. Because Atsumu had an unreadable expression, “This place is a mess! Did we interrupt too early, hm?” Kori taking a peek right behind Atsumu.

You heard a dry cough from the other twin, facing the other direction, you facing the other as well. None of you spoke in time, so you took it. “No, uh, we weren’t, nothing was happening.”

“The scene of the crime is proof!” Atsumu pushed, teasing, as he continued his way down next to Kori.

“Shut it ‘ya scrub.”

“Yer the scrub, scrub.” They started bickering, real easy like that, trying to beat each other up. You noticed Kori walking down the stairs as well, first with an expression you couldn’t quite place, as if she was thinking deeply. But when she noticed you looking, she quickly changed into a bright smile, even sporting a blush, ready to tell a story about what happened behind the closed doors of Atsumu’s bedroom.

The day ended quickly after that, Osamu forced Atsumu to help the both of you to clean the kitchen while Kori volunteered to. It continued on like that, Kori dragging you into one of her meetings with Atsumu, you complaining but coming anyway, and you end up stuck with Osamu as she goes to her rendezvous with Atsumu that at this point, you have no idea what they’re doing. You just tag along.

Right now, you were beside Osamu in the gym during their break from training. Near the door, his teammates a good few distance away as he sat on a bench with his usual posture. Slumped back, his arms arching, one behind you that you fail to think of anything. Just as a general position. You were voicing out a thought you had in a while, seriously.

“So I was balls deep into ghosts way back—”

He looked at you, disgusted. “GROSS,” Shoving you lightly, “God, please never, ever say ‘balls deep in ghosts’ to anyone ever again. I feel like washin’ my mouth having to repeat that.” He even added this mild shudder that was just an exaggeration.

“What? What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t really want to think about anyone having sex with a ghost.”

“Huh, who said anything about ghost sex?”

“You did, Y/N! Just now!”

“I didn’t—Oh, holy shit. No. Oh no.”

“What?”

“Does ‘balls deep’ not mean you’re standing in, like, the shallow end of the pool, metaphorically. Like up to your balls or something.”

“No! Balls deep is—It’s…”

“Balls deep is…”

“Why are you two talking about balls?” Suna interjected, acting as if he was just hearing about your conversation now. He was actually listening since the start, noticing the short distance between the both of you, interest hiding behind his eyes. “Balls, as in, dick or something? That’s wild.”

“Suna, no!” You screeched.

Osamu was biting back a laugh. The team was watching the three of you converse, getting used to the sight of you with their teammate. Assuming other things up the clouds. Atsumu was watching his brother with hawk eyes, and so was the girl next to him, Kori, though she was looking at you. If Suna was being honest, he didn’t notice any form of chemistry between your friend and the piss haired twin. They were all smiles and bright, but they always looked like they were thinking of something different. Though he doesn’t know anything about it.

Practice ended. It’s been months, and your interactions with Osamu have gotten more laxed. Your thoughts about being nothing more than a side-character was starting to change, because with him, you felt that you were a number one choice. You felt that you were a main character. Osamu felt the same, being with you felt like time was moving too fast and he wanted to spend it more with you, he was becoming insatiable. With you, he didn’t feel second to his brother for once. Lingering touches, his hand forgetting to unhook from yours, and his arm slinking around your shoulders as he yawns and asks for one of your homemade snacks as he starts to make some after-school snacks to give back to you.

You were invading his mind as much as he was invading yours. Sitting next to you during lunch, asking what’s in your bento, vice versa. Why was everything sailing so smooth? It was like it was just him and you. You heard rumors from the Miya fans that they were thinking you were Osamu Miya’s girlfriend. Forgetting your inferiority, sometimes the universe was just cruel, so it had to humble you.

“Atsumu and I broke up.” Kori sobbed.

Not to you, but to Osamu. You gripped your bag’s strap tightly. You peeled your lip with your teeth until the middle bled, so you sucked in the pain. No, you were not the protagonist. You weren’t, you never will be, and you never are in the past, present, and future. So you sucked in a breath to collect yourself, seeing Osamu pat the girl to attempt and comfort her, badmouthing his brother. “Sorry,” Her first gripped his shirt tighter.

“Osamu, please. It’s—I always liked you. It was just you.”

She wasn’t a bad person. She wasn’t, but why? You wanted to hit her, that, or jump off a building and die. None of them noticed you yet, at least that’s what you thought, but the sobbing girl had already seen you before she started bawling, and the other twin was forced to give her a tight, but awkward hug.

“Yokori… I liked you.”

You were about to walk to them normally after licking your lips from the blood, wanting to appear as a third party, to not let this happen. It just can’t. but you were pulled back by your collar. Who—

“Atsumu?”

He put his index finger in front of his lips to silence you, “Shh.”

So you followed him confused, he held your hand away from the scene. Leading you to the gates, the school half-empty, their practice about to start in half an hour or so. “Atsumu, why?” You croaked.

He had his eyes widened a bit, why? Actually, why did he pull you from that scene? His other hand that didn’t hold yours, which you didn’t bother to remove with the energy seeping out of your body quickly; it was taking everything in you not to break down. It went to his nape, rubbing it in question to himself, why? It was just that, seeing you staring at a scene when he knew you liked his brother, at a scene too painful, for a best friend who was just trying to do their paper, he knew. So his arms safely wrapped around you as you stared dead into his eyes, looking at his features that resembled the other who had unknowingly captured your heart.

Your bleeding lip trembled, your eyes turned glossy of the tears held back, Atsumu looked at you, empathetic. He broke up with your best friend because he couldn’t see it happen, every time he saw you with his brother, that wasn’t what they both had. They were simply not meant to be, and he was fine, he just didn’t know, but he was glad that because of it, he found out that she liked his brother more than she did him. He’d be angry, he should be, for his sake, but he wasn’t angry for him, he was angry for you.

He hid your face into his chest instead. You didn’t sob, solely because you thought you didn’t deserve to. But you cried, you let your tears soak in, “You look like him too much.”

“Shhh, I know—” Sigh. “It’s okay. You don’t have to look at me.” He said, trying his best to comfort you, caressing your hair. As a pair of grey eyes watched the scene from a distance, unable to hear, but able to see. Maybe he saw too much as he grimaced.

Osamu tried his best not to punch his brother right in the jaw, or push him away so he could yell everything he’d kept cooped up inside before you came running along, turning monochrome into a saturated-vision of the world. His teeth were pressing down on each other hard enough, he thought it might break, and shatter, just like his heart did. Of course, you chose his brother. Everyone always does. Every time he thinks he’s got it all, it’s all swiped underneath by his twin. Everyone says that it wasn’t their talents, or skills in volleyball that was the greatest gift they had ever received in life. It was their twin. But right now, he just thinks he was a curse he had to always deal with.

He jolted as he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Suna.

“Practice. Kita’s calling. Call your brother.” The ever-observant boy runs over as he scans the scene, and hisses as he sees you wrapped in his brother’s arms. Though he knew more than that, he had first-class seats to this theatrical after all. But he’d rather not be part of the act club, it wasn’t his forte.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Osamu replied, briefly. A bit tense, still.

He looked back to Atsumu who had let you go, and you who were walking away already. On the way to your home, he was sure. But he can’t help but cringe, thinking of it as your way of walking away from him.

“Practice! ‘Sumu!” He yelled, devoid of anything.

You jolted, you were a bit far but he yelled really loud you could still hear it. This didn’t go unnoticed by him, but you were both overcome by swirling emotions that stopped both of you to do the bare minimum, smile and wave, no after-school snacks. Atsumu jogged towards them, not noticing his brother’s attempt at hiding his huge frown. Practice was hell for Osamu, he didn’t want to see his brother right now, not when he still thinks of your precious little form hugging his brother’s, not his.

When his brother accidentally served a ball hitting Osamu behind the head, it was more of a switch for his anger; his rage.

“Fucking hell.” He said, turning viciously towards his brother who was uttering lighthearted apologies. It wasn’t until he started stalking towards Atsumu did the team start watching them like hawks, Aran thinking it’s just another one of their silly fights. But that thought was cut off when Osamu suddenly launched a fist towards Atsumu. “Ya just get off on this, huh? Ya get off on giving me bullshit every time.”

“Woah, ‘Samu I said I was sorry. What the fuck.” Atsumu said, brows furrowed, voice starting to get scratchy at his brother’s tight grip on the collar of his shirt. His hand quickly gripped his brother’s wrist tied to his shirt, attempting to get it off him, starting to get riled up from getting hit out of nowhere. “What’s your fuckin’ problem?” He said, about to kick his brother off of him.

“You. You just took everything from me, ‘Sumu. You took them.”

Osamu breathed heavily as Kita instructed the team to peel the twins away from each other as this wasn’t one of their silly fights at all. It held other issues. The captain knew that practice wouldn’t be able to continue like this, so he made them do drills before allowing them to go home. Looking pointedly at the Miya’s. The two brothers did what they were told to, going off to do their drills, and getting ready to go home.

They were walking silently side-by-side, both faces covered with a frown, Atsumu’s face having a bruise by the jaw whilst Samu didn’t have a scratch, only because Atsumu was realizing where it all came from.

“Did ya see?”

“Fuck you.”

“Look— It’s not what ya think, ya idiot.” Atsumu started, Osamu raised his brow at his brother. “I don’t want to say anything. Figure things out yourself, scrub.” Then the blonde started walking faster, leaving his brother behind to ponder.

The next day came by, he tried calling you but it never got through. Did you block him? What did he do? Did you really get repulsed by him to avoid him to that extent? That involved his texts getting left unanswered. You didn’t come to school today, he asked Kori, who he had rejected yesterday, and who was supposed to know about you more than he did. Though he was aware that you often felt inferior to her, as he told you the same about his brother, it was a feeling that you two were all too familiar with.

“I don’t know where she is, I’m sorry. She’s not talking to me either.”

Osamu stayed quiet at that, he thought you just needed time. So he let it go, looking forward to talking to you the following days. But that was the problem, you weren’t there in the following days either. He knew where you lived but he didn’t want to impose as your family didn’t know him very well yet either. He stopped himself from visiting until it hit the second week of your absence. Where were you? Why have you disappeared as if you never existed in the first place? He was growing worried, he wanted you to exist. He loved existing when you were around. And he wanted to clear everything up after getting multiple clues from Suna, and his brother, obviously.

It was until the class of the second week you were gone, when Osamu promised to visit your house after school, did their teacher tell them news that tore Osamu in half.

“One of our students Y/N L/N has transferred schools. The administration just finished filing her transfer after her visit yesterday, she didn’t get to say goodbye as her family moved out the same day. That’s about it, the first class is Physics. Have a nice day ahead, students.”

His ears were ringing. You were gone. Gone like the liquid that slipped past his hold. Atsumu looked at his brother in pity, knowing how much he had lost at that time. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t hear Osamu crying in the shower when they got home. Or when he tried to not get his snot on his pillows, sniffling in the night. His heart ached for his brother.

It’s been years since 2nd year in High School, and Osamu has just opened up Onigiri Miya. His brother had gone pro on Volleyball, and he couldn’t be more proud. He still finds himself thinking back to a few months of pure bliss in highschool, and he tried dating a fair share as well, in hopes that he’ll get what he had with you. He didn’t. So he dedicated himself to his work, and his passion: cooking. A few more years and his business was a success, to which was hell for the first few months, having no investors, and all. He was wiping down his counter, black cap on, his hair not having the same old bleached-grey hair. Instead, it was back to his natural dark hair.

“What is this place, really?”

“The name reminds me of someone from my highschool days. But I only heard about it now, is it really good?”

“Yeah, totally! We should bring our superiors here, and see if we get a few favors, hmm? The onigiri here is a star-choice.” Osamu sees someone turned around, laughing prettily, smiling all-wide, they were bright. Until the same eyes he used to look at in such a close distance, caught his own. His heart skipped two beats, or maybe skipped beating this whole time, maybe he died because god, did he finally send his angel back to him?

It was when you uttered his name under your breath, from the entrance that rang the bell prior to the conversation he overheard earlier did he confirm it. “Hey pretty girl,” he says, as he takes off his cap, ruffles his hair, chuckling deeply, and looking directly back at you; your heart spasms. “Where have you been?”

Bonus:

“Yeah, he was a real bitch when I first talked to him in high school.” You badmouthed him loudly from your table, which made him yell from the kitchen, “I was trying to see if you’ll take my hand and put the note there, okay!” Laughing, you didn’t notice him stalking behind you until he placed a kiss on your cheek. “Grumpy-ass.”

Living with 'Samu! ⁆ End Credits

#miya osamu #Miya #Osamu #Haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu!!#Inarizaki #miya atsumu #Atsumu #Osamu x Reader #Osamu x you #suna rintarou #Slow burn #Angst

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that-bi-bitch-writes · 3 years

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P S Y C H (ch.1)

I hate definition intros but it has to be done: The word "PSYCH" is commonly used online and in conversation as a slang term to indicate that something that has just been said or typed was intended as a prank on the recipient or a joke.

Also short for Psychic

Next Chapter

Say what you want about organized religion, but you can’t deny that it is one of the most dangerous weapons on the planet. For centuries people have developed weapons and fought wars in the name of their beliefs. They’ve conquered lands and assimilated nations. Give the people superpowers and there’s no way people don’t die on a daily basis. Unless you give them lame ass powers and call them quirks. God’s funny like that. Most people get run of the mill things like the ability to draw small objects close to them. That way there’s a power imbalance in the world. It’s less chaos if only a select few get the good abilities. Less people question God’s authority that way. Those who get the awesome superpowers are seen as blessed, divine. Honored.

[Mo.Name] [L.Name] was not blessed. She was liked by God at best. Being an empath, her quirk was not something to marvel at. If she worked hard to develop it, she could use her quirk offensively and defensively or even professionally but she would never be someone who was in charge of maintaining the world order.

As she grew older she would become disillusioned with God and the blessed individuals that policed over the nations. They called themselves heroes, and a few people were but everything about hero society just didn’t sit well with her. She became a teacher instead and worked with kids with special needs. When they had trouble expressing themselves she could use her quirk to get a feel for what they needed in the moment or she could project enough calmness that they could pull themselves together and communicate without throwing a fit.

She had a kid at a young age. 30 years old. Not too young and not too old. But by the time she was 35 she was a single mother. Her kid was the best. He didn’t cry too often and he learned how to speak very young. He soaked up information like a sponge and he didn’t develop a flashy quirk like the heroes she felt mild contempt for. Her baby was ignored by God.

Psych.

“No one is born equal. Yadda yadda yadda- How long has he been planning this monologue? No seriously it’s been playing in his head since the day (not really) we first met and I’m kind of bored of it now”

Izuku Midoriya was not a late bloomer. He never got his quirk, he has the extra toe joint, and he was bullied for being powerless. A Deku. [Name] [L.Name] WAS a late bloomer. He got teased a little, picked on. Sometimes people even gave him pitying looks. But it all ended when he turned about six. There’s that old saying: two roads diverged in a yellow wood. Well one of those roads is for those scorned, and the other for those who who were touched by fire yet never burned. The sinner and the saint. What a traveller wouldn’t know is, that at some point, the roads converge. How else are they supposed to get to the same destination?

Wonder, outsiders..who is on which road? What makes the sinner a sinner and not a saint?

“Using your quirk in public is illegal”

“And minding your own business is free” [Name] bit back. What’s a little telekinesis gonna do? Cause mass destruction? Widespread panic? He just didn’t want to touch the handle on the door. Public spaces are very unsanitary... it’s not like his arms are too sore to do any sort of lifting. Nope. Not at all.

[Name] had unfortunately spent the entire weekend doing his least favorite activity. Physical exercise. Of course with a quirk like his he’d rarely ever need physical strength, but that’s exactly what everyone else would think. And [Name] is the type of kid that wants you to doubt him so he can feel the rush of proving you wrong. It’s a warped mindset but when no one ever expects anything from you, it’s kind of a thrill to see the surprised looks on their faces. A psychic with impressive physical strength would be the same as someone 5’6 (167.6 cm) dominating a sport made for tall people. Like basketball. Or volleyball.

Anyway, [Name] was in the sportswear store, a place he’d rather not be caught dead in, trying to get support for his wrists. Most of his quirk usage was through precise hand movements, a slight flick of the wrist could easily send someone flying. His hands, and by extension his wrists were very important. A punch thrown wrong during training could fracture that oh so important wrist, hence the whole idea of getting wrist wraps.

For once [Name] was actually being proactive and he was very proud of himself for thinking of the idea in the first place. His eyes glowed golden as he reached his hand out to grab the wraps floating down from the top shelf. The UA exams were in about a week and a half and he had no idea what to expect. So he would train for everything they could throw at him. Even if it meant he had to go back to throwing punches at an oversized bag of sand.

[Name] used his telekinesis so often the drawback was nearly negligible. But if he did overuse it, the damage was a headache that could range from minor inconveniences like losing your chapstick, to a grenade going off in an enclosed space. The big ones weren’t usually the problem. The problem would be somewhere in the middle, because it would cause him to lose control of his telepathy, and once the headache combined with the voices of everyone in a 50 meter vicinity his brain would get seriously overwhelmed. Ultimately he’d be passed out on the ground within 5 minutes.

For the first year and a half of middle school three times a week [Name] would have fighting training along with weight training, alternating days so that he’d have a break in between each session. This was all pretty much to catch up with his rapidly developing quirk. [Name]’s body wasn’t prepared for the use of his quirk. He grew to the age of 6 doing things normally until his untapped power literally exploded out of him. Talk about damage control. For quirk training he usually offered to help his neighbor who ran a junkyard by lifting cars and other heavy things telekinetically. An unofficial part of the training regime, [Name] would also read other people’s thoughts all day everyday. He said it was to get used to hearing others’ voices in his head. But that was only a half truth. [Name] was just extremely nosy, but he went about it in a casual way. He probably should apologize for the invasion of privacy but he loved every minute of it. Besides, listening to the spirits of others could be considered a god-honored practice.

On the day of the entrance exams [Name] regretted everything. He’d decided to become a hero for fun, less than two weeks prior (the whole reason he went to the sportswear store and started working out again), and by the grace of god he was regretting it. Not because he was nervous he’d fail, at least he wasn’t before he got there. It was just SO loud. He’d gotten better at controlling his quirk since he began using telepathy to eavesdrop but the last time he was in a room full of this many people was the middle school entrance ceremony (which he skipped halfway through because of a headache. By the way how could so many kids sitting in silence be so loud). It made sense, he was not used to having to deal with the noise of people muttering, thinking, PANICKING. And now that his quirk is stronger than what it was before everything felt ten times worse. [Name] leaned forward and tapped the green haired boy sitting in front of him muttering. Not only could he hear the boy’s thoughts going a mile a minute but his mouth was too. The kid whipped around eyes wide and shook nervously. [Name] was about to ask him to quiet down but got confused when he made sense of the kid’s thoughts.

The kid was obviously a fanboy muttering about Present Mic who was getting on [Name]’s nerves a little with his exorbitant amount of energy. Before [Name] could say anything the ash-blonde near the fanboy spoke up.

“He’s probably telling you to shaddup”

The green haired boy opened his mouth to apologize and then realized he would be making more noise and quickly shut it before nodding profusely. [Name] was tired of referring to them by their hair colors and may have invaded the fanboy’s head for some background information on the two and got more than he bargained for. The fanboy whose name was apparently Izuku, was not only sitting next to Bakugou, his childhood bully, but just this morning he had gained an immense amount of power, officially becoming All Might’s successor. Oh look, two of them would be taking the exam in the same area. Things at UA were gonna get interesting.

#bnha x male reader #mha x male #male reader #male reader insert #x male reader #m!reader #m!reader insert #x m!reader #bnha #mha #that bi bitch writes #that-bi-bitch-writes #psych

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aflyingcontradiction · 3 years

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The Magnus Archives Relisten: Episode 87 - The Uncanny Valley

Georgie: Look I’ve, I’ve got work to do. You listen, or don’t listen, or cross-record, or whatever you want, just… just think about it first, okay? You can choose to leave it alone.

I suppose at this point that might actually still be true, maybe Jon COULD choose to leave it alone, but I'm not entirely sure and given where this episode goes, neither is Jon.

Case 0141010, Sebastian Skinner. - Gertrude

Oh god, I had forgotten the INCREDIBLY FITTING NAME of the statement giver when I first listened. Did a bunch of Stranger avatars and Jude Perry just get drunk one night and go "You know what would be hilarious? If we skinned a guy named SKINNER!" "Oh fuck, you're right, grab me the phone book!"

She was very still when she said this, and seemed to be waiting for me to respond, so I grabbed my tools, and told her to show me to the plughole. She seemed a bit taken aback by this, so I apologised, assuming I’d been a bit too crude for her, and I asked her where I could find the problem drain.

Yeah, cause she's probably being all creepy and uncanny and not quite human at him and not only does he not get noticeably scared, he doesn't even notice anything is off. OF COURSE SHE'S TAKEN ABACK! THAT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!

We walked through the main floor of the workshop, with people bustling about either side, doing whatever it was they were doing. My mind was focused on the job at hand.

Sebastian, dear, they're making human skin suits.

All through it, Megan was chatting with me quietly. She was whispering, making it a bit hard to hear her over the noise from the main building, so I mostly just nodded and made the appropriate sounds of interest.

'Megan': "I will tear off your skin and wear it as a dress." Sebastian: "Hm, yeah, alright."

It wasn’t nearly as big a job as I’d been afraid it might have been, and I talked Megan through my invoicing procedure as we walked back through the workshop floor. She was silent as I left, and seemed as though she was trying to get over some sort of shock.

"Megan"'s inner monologue: ... is this guy for real?

I was still begging for help when I felt Megan’s hard, cold fingers dig into the top of my head and turn it to face into the building.

"WILL YOU JUST FUCKING LOOK THIS TIME?"

The worst fire in Gwydir Forest for almost two hundred years, apparently. Some of the most beautiful natural scenery in the world reduced to ash. It destroyed my home, as well as quite a few of the others in Penmachno, but luckily nobody died.

Sebastian's taking his run-in with the Desolation rather well, all things considered. I mean, he WAS scarred for life and had his home destroyed before giving this statement.

I had hoped I’d have a chance to recover. I can still barely stand. - Gertrude

Hm, which injury is this in reference to? I honestly don't recall.

There may be no chance for a more… ‘nuanced’ way to disrupt it, so I’ll likely have to resort to a somewhat more… direct countermeasure. Hmm.

In other words, blowing shit up.

- Calliope music drifting in, at first barely perceptable, then slowly getting louder - Jon: Oh god…

Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction as well, shivers running down my spine and "Oh shit! The Circus!"

Jon: Look, you, you don’t need to be scared. Georgie: I’m not! You are! Look at you, you can barely stand!

And she isn't. Because she can't be.

My impression of this episode

I think I was much too busy laughing my ass off at Mr. Too-Oblivious-To-Be-Scared to be particularly unsettled by this episode, even though the moment of reveal is actually quite horrifying. There's also a whole lot of plot here, especially concerning Gertrude and the Unknowing, so the coda to this episode was also highly fascinating to me at the time. And it ends on a cliffhanger/revelation of sorts. I really enjoyed this episode.

#tma relisten #the magnus archives

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years

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Boy in Luv (Midoriya x Reader)

Pairing: Midoriya x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff/crack

Summary: Midoriya has a crush on a girl in his class, but he has no idea how to confess to her, enlisting the help of his two good friends.

Inspo: Based on BTS “Boy in Luv” MV

Word count: 1,802

Tags: @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak @yuki-osaki

a/n: As promised, here’s the post! And with this, I’ve officially added Midoriya to the list of characters in the Touch Starved collection.

Enjoy the cuteness and, mostly, the crackhead friendship between the main 3 characters! And even though I’m really late, happy 6th anniversary to Skool Luv Affair!

Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki sit on the front stoop of their dorm building, enjoying the good weather since it was raining the past few days. They've been practicing all day and decided to take a break and snack together.

Midoriya munches on his stick of string cheese. "Do you guys get the math stuff? I'm still having trouble with integrals and stuff."

"Tch, you're falling behind again, Deku," Bakugou scoffs, ripping open a bag of spicy chips.

Todoroki, the only one of them who decides to snack healthy with some fruit, chews for a moment before offering, "I can help you if you're stuck, Midoriya."

"Like you're any better, Icyhot. You went completely frozen trying to figure out that problem in class yesterday," Bakugou points out smugly.

"I was simply calculating the answer mentally before writing down my work," Todoroki answers, cool and collected as ever.

"Don't make me laugh! Just admit that you can be dumb sometimes too!"

Midoriya laughs awkwardly, stuck between his two friends as they argue - more like one of them screaming while the other brushes them off calmly. The boy raises his eyes out to the distance, widening his eyes at what, or who , he sees.

The girl jogs towards the dorm building with Yaoyorozu beside her. Her face lights up into a smile at whatever they're talking about. A black windbreaker jacket is thrown over her golden honey colored sports bra that shows off her lean abdomen, and black leggings with a matching yellow stripe tracing down the side hugs her toned legs. Midoriya doesn't want to admit it, but he can't stop staring.

The two girls slow to a stop in front of the group of still-bickering boys. "My, they're always fighting, aren't they?" Yaoyorozu shakes her head.

The girl lets out a few chuckles. "That's just how they are, I'd be more surprised if they stopped, honestly." She turns to the green-haired boy and offers him a beaming smile, her eyes crinkling up. "You still holding up, Midoriya?"

At first he's dazed, staring at the way her chest heaves as she breathes and the thin sheen of sweat on her face glistening in the fading afternoon light. At his name, he sobers up and his cheeks flush from what he was staring at. "Oh, uh, yeah, somehow," he sputters. "Did you guys just come back from training?"

"Yeah, we had a pretty good session." She stretches her arms over her head, letting a few hums of pain escape her. "I'd love a good shower and my bed right about now, but I still have homework to do. See you tomorrow!"

The boy watches as the girls retreat back into the building. I never thought yellow would look good on someone besides Kaminari, he finds himself thinking.

"Midoriya, are you okay?" Todoroki's concerned voice scatters his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Your cheeks are red and hot like you have a fever." The heterochromatic haired boy leans forward, about to touch his face. "Are you coming down with something?"

"No, you clueless idiot, he's in love," Bakugou barks, "He's got the hots for (Y/n)."

Midoriya jolts up. "Is it that obvious?"

"Maybe not to Icyhot, but yeah, you look at her like she's your entire world or something."

The boy's emerald eyes drop to the ground and he hugs his knees to his chest. "She's a really down to Earth person, and she's really easy to talk to. And...the way her smile lights up her entire face." His goofy smile and warm feelings fade as he sinks his head down to rest on his knees. "I don't really know how I should tell her though."

Todoroki takes a bite of his orange slice, pondering the situation. "Give her a lamp? Since you said she lights up easily?"

Both boys shoot him a confused glance. "I don't think that would impress her." Midoriya gives it a thought. "She likes coffee, maybe I can get her a thermos for the morning?"

"Give her a new set of pens, she has a bad habit of always losing her own."

"Maybe buy her a new pencil case to match?"

"Buy a plant for her dorm to brighten it up, like a cactus."

Bakugou finally throws his head back and groans at their stupidity. "You guys are such idiots! Neither of you know the first damn thing about romance?"

The two other boys slowly shake their heads dumbly

The ash blond groans again. "Okay, let me tell you what you should do, Deku, since you're obviously clueless." After explaining a somewhat elaborate plan to the two other boys, he leans back, a triumphant grin on his face.

Midoriya's eye widen, blush coating his cheeks again at the thought of the scenario unfolding. "Wow Kacchan, I never expected you to be a romantic."

"Yeah, it's because you idiots are totally clueless. You need me to educate you."

"If you're so good, why are you still single?" Todoroki asks simply.

Silence.

"SHUT UP ICYHOT! DON'T MAKE ME KILL YOU!"

Two days later, the three boys decide to go through with Bakugou's scheme. After class, Bakugou silently follows the girl, waiting for her to stop talking to the rest of the girls to get her alone. After spending an annoyingly long amount of time outside their classroom talking to Mina and Tzuyu, she finally bids them goodbye and makes her way to the library to study.

Unfortunately for her, she never makes it.

Just before she opens the door, she notices a shadow looming behind her. Turning around, she's startled to have Bakugou's piercing crimson eyes boring into her's. She backs into the door and he slams an arm by her head. She's shaking like a leaf. "W-What do you want, Bakugou? I didn't do anything to you." Despite trying to seem strong, her voice comes out feebly.

A sinister smirk crawls across Bakugou's face. "How'd you like to go on a little trip?"

Before she can scream bloody murder, he grabs her arm and pulls her away on a little "joyride."

Meanwhile, Todoroki and Midoriya move all the chairs and desks of an empty classroom towards the walls to make a clear space in the middle.

The nervous, freckle-faced boy nervously paces around the room, going over the lines in his head while his fears wreck his quivering body. "I can't do this, Todoroki! What if she says no? What if she laughs at me?! What if she tells everyone?! I'll be absolutely humiliated!"

"Midoriya, calm down," he stares at the jittery boy with a level gaze. "Bakugou said he's very confident this will work. He's sure she also harbors feelings for you too." He places a warm hand on Midoriya's shoulder to stop his anxious habit. "Besides, since she likes you, she would appreciate your nervous stuttering because she would find it endearing and think it's genuine of you. Sounding too practiced ruins the natural anxiety of the moment."

The boy stares back the Todoroki's stoic expression, letting his words sink in. "So I need to make sure I don't overpractice or else she'll still reject me?" he whines.

The half-hot-half-cold boy sighs, being cut off by his phone ringing. "It's Bakugou, he says they'll be here shortly. And he says, 'Don't mess this up, Deku.'"

The boy cries out, feeling his entire body suddenly lose all heat to hysterical cold. Todoroki turns off the lights and closes the window shades, plunging the room into darkness only to light the few candles scattered across the room, casting a dim golden ambiance.

For the final step, Todoroki produces a single rose out of the inside pocket of his uniform jacket. Walking over to Midoriya, who's mumbling strings of inaudible, neurotic fears to himself, he juts the rose out in front of him, cutting off his speech. "Relax, Midoriya. Just say what comes naturally."

Midoriya blinks, delicately holding the rose by the stem, Todoroki moving to stand behind the door to be out of the way. The smaller boy feels sweaty, shaky, sick. His uniform tie is suffocating around his throat, stomach heavy in anticipation and fear, heart hammering in his chest and ears.

Finally, the door swings open and his heart almost stops completely.

Bakugou walks in first, holding the girl by the arm. The first thing Midoriya notices about her is her insanely windblown hair and dazed eyes. Bakugou said he would take her out on a ride around school, hitching her on his back, jumping out a window, and using his quirk to rocket them around the school building once. He says it would get her blood pumping, adrenaline rushing, and cheeks blushing; the perfect primer for riling her up for the big finale.

"Take it away, nerd," Bakugou makes a dramatic sweep of his hands towards Midoriya, and he knows it's his turn to shine.

The girl blinks back into focus and surveys the layout of the room, scanning the messily pushed around desks, the candles, and finally resting on the boy with the rose in his hands. Her blush intensifies at the last thing. "M-Midoriya, what's all this for?"

The boy goes cold all over again, perfomance anxiety getting to him. "I... Uh, (Y/n)- You-" All the different ways he could possibly start his monologue jumbles together to produce a mishmash of word vomit. Pull yourself together, don't mess this up! He takes a deep breath in and clears his throat to start over. Whatever comes natural. "(Y/n), you are the most amazing, bright, fun, cute person I know. Just seeing you smile makes my day and manages to tongue-tie me. I'd really like to be...more than friends." He holds out the flower with both shaky hands and dares to look in her eyes. "W-Will you...go out with me?"

Her silence seems to last agonizingly forever. Her entire face seems to lift as she flickers back and forth between the boy and the flower he clutches to keep from coming undone. She finds it endearing. In a swift movement, she gently grips his hand, leans in close, and places a kiss on his freckled cheek. "Yes, I'd love to go out with you, Midoriya."

The boy lets out a strangled yelp of excitement, before slapping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm just really happy!" Sheepish chuckles bubble out as he throws his arms around her, and she welcomes his embrace with her own delighted laughter.

The other boys look on at the scene before them. "The nerd did better than I thought he would've," Bakugou mumbles, shoving his hands in his slack pockets.

"At least his confession was accepted. Don't know what would happen if you tried this, though," Todoroki comments, his dig smoothly executed.

Bakugou grips the boy's shirt. "YOU WANNA DIE ICYHOT?!"

#midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #midoriya fluff #crack #mha #bnha #izuku midoriya #midoriya imagine #midoriya scenario #mha deku #bnha deku #female reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bts boy in luv

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kelyon · 3 years

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Golden Rings 17: A Name

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

Mrs. Gold revisits her past

Read on AO3

Mrs. Gold looked on in mute horror as Hunter Duke dumped more hot sauce on his triple bacon hamburger. He’d asked Ruby to give him three meat patties with no bun and steamed broccoli instead of fries. When Mrs. Gold had questioned that lunch choice, he had explained his new diet to her.

At length.

Hunter had always been the kind of boy who thought meat and spicy food were substitutes for a personality. He’d been the star athlete at Storybrooke High, taking home championships in football and wrestling. He’d been popular with everyone--except for the one girl he’d arbitrarily decided was the hottest girl in school. That girl, the valedictorian, hadn’t given the quarterback the time of day. Not until she lost her scholarship and suddenly dating the son of a lawyer sounded like the way to the best future she would ever get.

“They do the burgers way too overdone here,” Hunter said with his mouth full. “You don’t get enough protein if it isn’t bloody.”

Mrs. Gold shrugged and took a bite of her own burger. It needed more pickles, but it was still amazing. Toasted bun, crisp lettuce, a patty that was juicy but not messy. She hadn’t had a Granny’s burger in forever. When she was a kid, her parents had taken her out for burgers every Friday night after their shop closed. Mom would bring her own supply of extra-zesty mustard and Dad…

She set her bun on her plate. On those idyllic, bygone Friday nights, her father would spend the whole meal grumbling about money and expenses and couldn’t they have eaten at home? Mom had always told him to stop worrying and enjoy the moment. It was the end of another week and they were together, happy and healthy. She’d calmed him down and kept him focused, every time there was a crisis.

Until they faced the biggest crisis of their lives.

Mrs. Gold blinked out of her thoughts. For some reason, Hunter was still talking. Maybe it looked like she was listening. She’d gotten good at that when they had dated. Now that she was listening for real, she tried to catch up.

“I keep telling my dad he needs to just change the sign. ‘Duke & Duke & Duke’ has a great ring to it, right? Or he could for ‘Duke & Sons.’ I don’t mind sharing the spotlight with Steven. Or he could leave the sign as it is and retire! ‘Duke & Duke’ is classic, everyone knows we’re the best bankruptcy lawyers in town. Just let my brother be the first Duke and I’ll be second Duke and we’ll take this firm into the future! But Dad keeps brushing me off for some reason.”

Mrs. Gold took a sip of iced tea and desperately wished it was something stronger. “Did you… go to law school?”

She had the oddest feeling that she couldn’t remember how long they had been out of high school. All she knew for sure was that Hunter had enrolled at Storybrooke Community College--and she hadn’t. It was possible that he had gotten his bachelor’s. As Hunter was fond of saying, “Cs get degrees.” But SCC didn’t have a graduate program. Had he taken more classes on the internet? Or correspondence courses? It boggled her mind to think of Hunter of all people had gotten a law degree during the years she’d been Mr. Gold’s stupid slut.

“Well actually,” he explained, “you don’t need to go to law school to take the bar exam. I’ve got a bachelor’s in poli-sci and I’ve been around lawyers all my life. My dad knows everyone at the state bar. He’ll pull some strings and I’ll be all set.”

Mrs. Gold stabbed her straw at the ice cubes in her glass. It was so fucking unfair. Hunter was an idiot child who had never worked for anything in his life. His father--Richard “Big Dick” Duke--had bought him a Humvee when he turned sixteen, a speedboat when he graduated high school, and a college education just because no son of his wasn’t going to go to college. Now he would give his son the bar exam and a ready job and everything he would need for a future, without Hunter ever having to grow up past the maturity level of a toddler.

She’d lost her virginity to this boy. One summer night after senior year, in the back seat of that gas-guzzling monstrosity. They’d been dating for a while and Hunter had been perfectly content with her amateurish attempts at blowing him. But for her, the novelty had begun to wear off. So she’d suggested that he “put it in” instead. It was mostly a way for him to get his rocks off while she could just lie back and think of something more interesting.

Her memories of that night were dark and cramped and disappointing. She kept her shoes and her bra on the whole time. When Hunter was done, she had been more confused than anything else. This is what people made such a big deal about? Wasn’t sex supposed to be better than that?

It wasn’t until later, with Mr. Gold, that she had understood what people were talking about in romance novels.

But now that things were so strained with her husband, she found herself thinking back to the only other sexual partner she’d ever had. Looking at Hunter now, she had to remind herself of how bad things had been that summer, when he had been a welcome distraction. Hunter hadn’t wanted to talk about doctors’ appointments or shop inventory or arguing with financial aid departments--every fight a losing battle. All he wanted to do was drink, screw around, and have fun, and he welcomed her along for the ride.

I thought he would help us. I was wrong. He wasn’t what I needed.

Mrs. Gold shook the thought out of her head. The thought was true, but she recognized it as not being her own, so she talked over it.

“Have you been hanging out with any of the old gang? Sean or Jesse or anyone?”

It had been exciting to be included with the rich kids, to feel like she belonged in the world of the young and the reckless--people who didn’t have to worry about things because their parents would always be around to bail them out. They could do whatever they wanted because the world belonged to them.

Hunter shrugged. “Jesse’s an idiot, so no change there. But Sean’s been such a pussy ever since Ashley had her baby.”

Ashely Boyd had been in that group with her. Rich boys liked running around with poor girls because they were easier to impress than the rich girls. New Town young ladies also had parents who bought them cars for their sixteenth birthdays. They didn’t need to rely on spoiled boys to pay their way every time they went out, so they didn’t have to go along with whatever stupidity the boys came up with. Mrs. Gold had taken a lot of risks just so Hunter would keep thinking she was interesting.

But Ashley had loved Sean for more than his money and toys. All she ever wanted was for him to love her back and stay with her. Once, Mrs. Gold had thought Ashley was stupid for pining so hard after a boy who would never commit. But now she had a little more sympathy.

“What happened with Sean?”

“Mr. Herman kicked him out, cut him off. Now he’s living at Ashley’s place, working his ass off at the fish factory.”

“The cannery,” Mrs. Gold corrected quietly. Fish King Canned Foods was always hiring. It was always looking for people who could stand waist-deep in ice and fish guts for twelve hour shifts, operating machinery that could cut through a human hand as easily as it did a whole herring. Her cousin Andrew had gotten a job right out of high school. Her Uncle Peter had worked there for twenty years before he died.

“Like I said, he’s a total pussy now. All he does is work and hang out with Ashley, work and take care of the baby, work and sleep. You know he asked her to marry him a couple days ago? Utterly whipped.”

“Wow,” she said.

She had never respected Sean Herman, so it was weird to think of him actually growing up. People didn’t usually change around Storybrooke. But now the spoiled party boy was taking responsibility for his child and the woman who loved him. He had given up his own wealth and family status because he loved a penniless girl from Old Town.

It was impressive.

She finished her burger while Hunter started another monologue, this time about all the fat, lazy, poor people who came to his father’s office to declare bankruptcy. Forget being a lawyer, he should go into talk radio.

“I did ask you to lunch for a reason.” She grabbed her chance to talk while he was taking a breath.

“Oh yeah?” Hunter wiped hot sauce off his face with the back of his hand. “What’s up?”

“You know a lot of people,” Mrs. Gold said. “I was wondering if you might know somebody that I don’t.”

He slurped up the dregs of his diet soda. “Yeah? Who?”

Mrs. Gold gripped the edge of the table and desperately hoped he wouldn’t notice how hard it was for her to say this. The gold of her wedding ring was dull on this cloudy afternoon. “I… just have a name right now. I think it’s a woman named Belle.”

She could see the wheels in his head turning as he thought. “Belle? Hmm. I don’t know.”

“She’s probably young. Maybe our age. Maybe younger. Or older? Maybe she’s one of your mom’s friends or something?”

A woman as old as Karen Duke would still be younger than Mr. Gold. Maybe he was looking for more maturity now. In the days since she found out about Belle, Mrs. Gold had been racking her brain to try to imagine what kind of person she was. She was only moderately sure that Belle even was a woman. If Mr. Gold wanted this Belle person more than he wanted his own wife, she was probably the opposite of her in some crucial way.

Hunter made a face and scratched the back of his head. “Nah, I got nothing. Sorry.”

“Yeah,” Mrs. Gold looked down at her empty plate. “I’m not surprised.”

Seeing that they were both done with their food, Ruby came up to the table. “Now is this gonna be one check or two?”

It was almost funny how quickly Hunter looked to Mrs. Gold. He panicked at the thought of paying for his own lunch. Daddy must not be giving him an allowance anymore.

“You invited me,” he said, almost chiding her with the reminder of how things worked.

“Yeah, that was my first mistake.” Mrs. Gold took the check from Ruby and pulled out her purse.

A fifty would be enough to pay for two hamburgers and Ruby’s discretion. Not that Mrs. Gold was being particularly sneaky, arranging lunch with her ex-boyfriend at the most popular restaurant in town. But that didn’t matter either. She could take Hunter to the pawn shop and bang him in front of the cash register and Mr. Gold wouldn’t give a fuck.

And neither would she.

****

Wandering listlessly up and down Main Street, Mrs. Gold tried to keep warm. The clouds were dark and heavy with more snow. The sidewalks were shoveled, but there was always a residue of dirty slush. It was the time of year when trash kept showing up in the streets, no matter how many anti-littering signs Mayor Mills put up.

Mrs. Gold’s suede boots were more fashionable than sturdy. The same could be said for her coat, scarf, and hat. The cold seeped through her flimsy layers, until she was nothing but numb and damp, until it was hard to breathe, until she was so desperate to be warm again she resolved to go into the next open store, no matter which one it was.

Sugar’n’Spice was always warm and it always smelled good. Mara Trudine burned a different scented candle every day the shop was open. Today the candle was cinnamon and cloves. The whole place smelled like cider.

Mrs. Gold entered as quietly as she could. She hadn’t been in the store since before Christmas. And she had never walked through that door without strutting proudly, loudly announcing her intentions to buy whatever lingerie it would take to drive Mr. Gold wild.

Was Mr. Gold even capable of going wild for her anymore? Or did the sight of her just turn his stomach? He thought she was trash, she disgusted him, he didn’t want her and he never would again.

Ducking behind a rack of silky robes, Mrs. Gold took a breath to calm herself down. It was a bad habit she’d developed lately, thinking of the worst-case scenario just to make herself feel something. Her mind kept poking and prodding at her pain, pulling out her darkest fears and putting them front and center. She could push it away if she concentrated. If she tried to act normal, she could almost feel normal. Sometimes.

“Oh hey.” Mara had spotted her from the sales counter in the back of the shop. “Mrs. Gold, I didn’t see you come in.”

Steeling herself, Mrs. Gold walked out from behind the robes. “That’s me.” She tried to smile.

Mara stayed where she was. Bits of fabric were spread out over the counter. It looked like she was sewing something.

Mrs. Gold’s heart skipped a beat. The fabric was a shiny yellow-gold. Sometimes, when Mr. Gold was really pleased with her, he liked her to wear that color. Without thinking about what she was doing, she began to walk towards the counter.

“What are you working on?”

Mara looked up from her needle. Even after all these years, she had the same face she’d had as a kid--sharp brown eyes, adorably crooked smile, freckles all over her round cheeks. She looked so innocent. You’d never think she made a living off of unmentionables.

“Custom order,” she said proudly. “I’ve been trying to get tailor-made lingerie off the ground for as long as I can remember. Got my first order in October and more have been coming in.” She held up the fabric and Mrs. Gold saw a pair of panties that would go up to a person’s rib cage.

“Somebody wants that?”

Mara’s excitement dimmed in the face of Mrs. Gold’s skepticism, but she did her best to explain. “It’s shapewear,” she said. “See the reinforced panels? The idea is to smooth out tummy rolls and make a more flattering silhouette.”

Mrs. Gold looked over at the rack of Spanx. “Don’t you already sell that?”

“Yeah, but the stuff I make is sturdier than the mass-produced product. Better for people with non-standard bodies. And prettier too. Nothing over there comes in straw yellow.”

It was true. Most of the stuff in that section was nude or black. Mrs. Gold knew a thing or two about wearing corsets, but she had never actually needed one. She had thought Mr. Gold liked her to be skinny.

“That is a pretty color,” she said. “Who’s it for?”

Mara looked at her dubiously. “I can’t talk about a client, it’s confidential.”

“How are you planning on getting more orders without word of mouth?”

“Well, normally word of mouth comes from customers talking about the product, not a creator talking about their customers.”

Falling into old habits, Mrs. Gold tilted her head back as her voice went up an octave. “I know, but it’s just such a pretty shade of gold, I was wondering if someone special might have ordered it...?”

She let the question hang. Mara just frowned and shook her head.

“Come on, you’re smarter than that.” She held up the garment again. “This is for a plus-sized woman. Two of you could fit in here without straining the elastic. Mr. Gold didn’t order this for you.”

Without thinking, she leaned over the counter and got in her friend’s face. “Did he order it for someone else?”

Mara’s eyes went wide. Her mouth transformed into a tiny little O of surprise. Mrs. Gold pulled away and kept her eyes on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Gold said. “That was out of line.”

“Wow,” Mara said softly. “I, uh, I’d heard that something had happened. But I didn’t know it was that bad. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” She turned around, pretended to look at something lacy until the urge to scream had passed. When she glanced at Mara, her brown eyes were trained on her.

“It’s not from him,” she said simply. “I’ll even tell you that my client paid with a credit card, so it was definitely her own money.”

Or maybe Mr. Gold was just covering his tracks. But at least he hadn’t called in the order himself. At least he wasn’t flaunting his disregard for her.

“Does he… Have you ever heard from him? Is he buying anybody lingerie?”

Mara shook her head. “I only see him on Rent Day.”

With nothing left to lose, she asked her old friend the same question she’d asked her ex-boyfriend. “Do you know anybody named Belle?”

Mara blinked. “I don’t… think so. The name sounds familiar, but I’m probably thinking of a character from a book or a movie. It’s not the sort of name you hear around Storybrooke.”

“No,” Mrs. Gold agreed.

“But I’ll keep my ears open, if you want.”

Mrs. Gold raised her eyebrows. “What about client confidentiality?”

“Well, whoever Belle is, she’s definitely not a client. And until Mr. Gold pays me himself, neither is he.”

You’re a good friend.

This time, Mrs. Gold didn’t swat at the thought that intruded into her head. She let it rest over her brain like a blanket. She let the thought warm her up.

She leaned against the counter and watched Mara work. The shapewear was fully constructed, and she was embroidering stalks of straw in a pattern along the sides. It was really pretty. The sort of thing that would give a girl a boost in confidence and excitement about her own body, her own clothes. Mrs. Gold remembered how fancy she’d felt the first time she wore something as simple as a bra and panties that were the same color. That sort of energy could get people through interviews or contract negotiations, any time you needed to feel powerful. Mara was helping people here, she was good at it, and it seemed to make her happy.

“So, business is good?”

“Yeah, it’s picking up. Valentine’s Day was a madhouse, but you know how that goes.”

Mrs. Gold nodded. Lingerie could be as popular as flowers when it came to last-minute gifts that men always thought would be cheaper than they were.

“Did you spend the day with anyone?”

Mara scrunched her nose. “I’m working too hard for that. Besides, I don’t meet a lot of single men in this business.”

She was able to snicker at the joke, and she was able to mean it. “Yeah, I guess not.”

They were quiet together for a minute, then Mrs. Gold asked a more personal question: “How’s your mom?”

Mara looked up from her embroidery for a second, but then went back to work. “She’s fine. I think she’s bored, now that the preschool is only open for half-days. She keeps asking me to move in with her.”

“I take it you don’t want to?”

A halfhearted shrug. “I don’t have a good reason not to. It would make sense, we could split the bills and keep each other company. But there is also something really nice about living by yourself. Even if it’s just a one bedroom apartment on top of your store.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Mrs. Gold drummed her fingers against the counter. She had gone from living with her father to living with Mr. Gold. The night after their anniversary had been the first time she had slept in any building by herself.

But she understood what Mara meant. When you lived with your parents, it was hard to feel like an adult. To make matters worse, Irma Trudine--Mara’s mother--had been a preschool teacher for as long as anyone could remember. She tended to treat everyone she talked to like they were a four-year-old whining for more juice and crackers.

Mama’s closest friend.

Now the voice was annoying her again. It was true that Irma and Mom had been good friends. That was why she had grown up with Mara as much as she had grown up with her cousin Janine. The three girls were inseparable, just like their mothers had been.

Until…

Mrs. Gold sighed. She was warmer now. She should probably buy something before she moved along.

“Do you have anything comfy around here?”

“What, like no underwire?”

“No, like pajamas, I guess. Or loungewear? I think I need to get a pair of sweatpants.”

Mara grinned. “The last time I saw you wear sweatpants, they had dinosaurs on them.”

“And they were fucking awesome.”

She had gotten those pants for her eighth birthday and worn them until the knees gave out. Even after that, Mom had cut them up for shorts and she’d worn them for another six months. If she could find sweatpants that had dinosaurs on them now, she wouldn’t think the mere act of wearing sweatpants was a sign of the end of her life.

But Sugar’n’Spice only had pajama sets with flowers on them--or hearts, but Mrs. Gold couldn’t bring herself to buy anything that looked like love. It was enough to buy comfort, something that would make it a little easier to be in her own skin.

Mara rang her up and gracefully accepted the extra fifty Mrs. Gold handed her.

“How about I call this a down payment on a custom order for you?”

Taking her bag, Mrs. Gold shrugged. “I don’t think Mr. Gold will want me in lingerie for a long time.”

“I didn’t say it was for Mr. Gold, I said it was for you.” Mara looked her steadily in the eye. “Come back some time and we can talk about what you need. Okay?”

She opened her mouth, and then closed it. “Yeah,” she said at last. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Good.”

****

The day wasn’t over. Mr. Gold was still in his shop. She could go there for a few hours of awkward silence. Or she could go back to the house, for a few hours of lonely silence. Then he would come home and make dinner. They would eat together and make stilted small talk. And then she would go to her bedroom, and he would go to his.

That was their life now.

He said he wanted her to stay. He said he wanted to take care of her. He said he loved somebody else.

It didn’t make sense. It was wrong. They were supposed to be together. Being near him, but not being with him, trying to act like everything was fine, trying to act like he didn’t matter to her as much as she obviously didn’t matter to him…

It was tearing her apart.

So she walked. Like a circling shark, she kept moving so she wouldn’t drown. She was trapped. Storybrooke was a small town, there were only so many places you could go in one day. And she had lots of days ahead of her. Mrs. Gold had the image of the rest of her life, stretching out to the horizon. She would have to keep walking, she would never be able to rest. She would never have a home again.

She was in Old Town now. The flower shop was behind her. Aunt Teri’s yellow and purple house was on this street. How many times had she walked the route between those two places? Her whole childhood, her whole life until she married Mr. Gold and moved into his house. She used to belong in this neighborhood.

Was there a way she could belong here again?

Turning at the plastic sign that said Hair Today! she went to the side door of the yellow house and knocked. Then she stepped away from the door and waited for an answer. She held herself against the cold.

Janine came up from the basement salon. Her mouth opened when she saw Mrs. Gold.

“Oh hi,” she said. “Mrs. Gold, you don’t… usually knock.”

“Yeah, I’m usually a bitch to you and I’m sorry.” She hadn’t meant to start that way, but she couldn’t avoid the truth anymore.

Janine’s eyebrows raised and her sky-blue eyes--a family trait--went wide. “O...kay,” she said slowly. Stepping outside, she shut the door behind her. The cold made her keep her arms crossed over her chest. “What’s going on?”

“I…” She didn’t know what to say. She had started, but what was the next step? “Things suck, right now, for me. And I kind of suck too. And I realized…”

What had she realized? That no one in her family would help her in an emergency? That she had built her whole identity around one relationship and without that she had nothing? That she had spent years intentionally, maliciously, pushing away all the people that had loved her in exchange for a man who only paid her? That all of those things were really fucking shitty? None of that was a realization. Mrs. Gold had always known what her life was. But she was just now starting to care.

“I realized I’m sorry,” she said. “For as long as I’ve been with Mr. Gold, I’ve been so caught up in him and it made me a worse person. And I want to be better.” She looked at Janine. “You deserve a better cousin.”

Janine sighed, her breath visible in the twilight. “So the honeymoon is finally over, huh? Are you tired of him or is he tired of you?”

Mrs. Gold pressed her lips together. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. At the same time, she didn’t begrudge her cousin the snark.

“He’s tired of me,” she admitted softly. “And I’m kind of tired of me too.”

Now Janine looked more sympathetic. “What happened?”

“You didn’t hear? I thought everyone in Storybrooke knew by now.”

“Yeah, no, I’ve heard a lot of rumors. But I’m asking you what happened. What’s the truth?”

“He loves someone else.” The words slipped from her mouth like a burden off her shoulders. “Some Belle person. And like, like he loves her, Janine. More than he ever loved me.”

“Oof,” Janine let out a long breath. “Oh honey, that’s terrible. I’m sorry.”

Until now, Janine had been standing in the doorway, and Mrs. Gold had been in the driveway, with about five feet between them. Janine stepped out first, one arm open in invitation. The two cousins met in the middle. They didn’t hug, exactly, but they huddled together for warmth and comfort.

“Do you need to stay with us?” Janine asked. “We never did anything with Andrew’s room after--”

“No,” she shook her head. Mr. Gold asked her to stay with him, and even that had to be better than sleeping in her dead cousin’s bedroom. “I’m fine, I… He’s taking care of me.”

“What, like alimony?”

“No, we’re not… I’m not leaving him.”

Janine pulled away. “But you said he loved someone else.”

She nodded. “He does, but he doesn’t want the marriage to be over.”

There was a moment of silence while Janine’s face twisted in anger and disbelief. Then she burst out: “Oh screw him! Does he really get to decide that? That man is cheating on you and you don’t even get the satisfaction of walking away? Come on!”

Mrs. Gold couldn’t look her in the face. “It’s not as simple as that,” she said. “I--I married him, I need him, I…” The next words were small and soft: “I don’t want the marriage to be over either.”

Closing her eyes, Janine pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I mean, the sanctity of marriage is great and all, but Mr. Gold has been nothing but bad to you for so long. And now you have a reason to get out, but you’re not taking it? Why?”

“Because this is different,” she said the words before she knew what they meant. “He’s different than he was when we got married. There’s something… good about him now. Something kind and gentle. Something that wasn’t there before.”

Janine rolled her eyes. “So now you have feelings for the monster?”

“He’s not a monster now. Maybe he was before--I can see that more clearly now. But now the only thing he’s doing wrong is… not wanting me. And it hurts, but it’s not an evil thing.”

He’s my husband and I love him. Can you understand that?

Shifting her weight back and forth, Janine kept her arms over her chest. “And he’s not… hurting you anymore?”

She shook her head. “Not even in a way I like.”

“Gross,” Janine said, matter-of-factly. “I mean, good for you that it used to be something you liked, but it is very gross for me to think about. Too much information is a very real thing.”

Both of them snickered at that. The years of lingering tension eased a little more.

“Can you at least stay for dinner? We’re having Spaghetti-Os a la Chloe.”

“Chloe’s cooking?” How old was she now?

“It was her idea. Under careful supervision, she is going to dump a can of Spaghetti-Os into a pot and warm it up. Mom might even let her into the spice cabinet for some basil.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.” She shuffled her feet. “But I should get going. I still eat with Mr. Gold. It’s… weird.”

“I bet.” Janine put her hands in the pockets of her work smock. “Listen, I… I’m sorry. All this time… I could have been a better cousin too. We--I think the general idea was that… we were waiting for you to meet us halfway.”

“I get that,” she said. “And I never came close to halfway. Not with anybody.”

“Well, you did today. And I’m glad. We missed you.”

Nodding, she tried to keep the tears out of her eyes. All this time, she could have had her family. If she had just eased up on being Mrs. Gold, she could have been the same girl everyone had loved.

“I’m trying to make things better now, you know?”

Janine nodded. “I know.” They were quiet for a minute, then she asked. “Have you talked to your dad lately?”

“Not yet,” she shook her head. “Not him or Uncle Manny. I… I kinda thought I’d start easy.”

Janine half-smiled, half-winced. “Manny will be happy to see you. You’re the only niece he’s got.”

She snorted. “I’m the only daughter my dad has and that didn’t make anything any easier.”

“He loves you, Lacey,” Janine said. It was the first time Mrs. Gold had heard her first name in as long as she could remember. “We all do.”

#golden rings #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #ouat #you like ocs? I've got so many ocs

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alo-piss-trancy · 4 years

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Cute concept I was thinking of since like, the moment I met Jataro: Remnant of Despair!Gundham taking him on as like, a little brother of sorts :3c ~~Or if neither of them would accept family they just call each other by some kind of mystical titles lol~~ When the Remnants start filtering into Towa City they bump into each other, and at first it's just threats and possible attacks, but slowly a mutual respect is born and they start to notice the mannerisms/attitudes they have in common :0

Listen I know the picture in the credits of UDG implies Kotoko found him and the others (minus Monaca) and they're probably surviving together/not hating adults as much anymore. But they're covered in blood still so screw that for this hc I'm assuming Kotoko was either 'acting' again and they'd go back to their old ways on a smaller scale, OR she can't get through to them all and they split off eventually.

Also I haven't seen the anime so if I'm getting Despair!Gundham details wildly wrong... shush this is My City Now and I'll create my own villain AU of him aldkgk

* Gundham hates humans and claims to be the king of Demons, so I feel like if they met once he got to know him Jataro would see him as different/not adult-like enough that he'd be an exception. If you're not a HUMAN adult or a REALLY 'NICE' aka Murderous and Despairful Demon then... it's fine, right? Gundham speaks so bitterly towards humanity in general, he barely seems human at all. Maybe they even form an alliance/pact, Gundham will put extra focus into killing adults and carve out a special paradise for Jataro, so long as Jataro agrees to live alone afterwards. After all, if a cockroach like him is the last human alive and stays away from nature, everybody would win. Gundham's world will flourish from the ashes of the apocalypse, and Jataro will do whatever he wants/be free as the Ultimate Latchkey Kid.

* I think Gundham would be very impressed/sadistically amused by those puppetry 'dioramas'. Maybe he'd even donate some of the corpses his majestic beasts slaughter for the boy to play with.

* Jataro would think the animals were cool, especially the really ugly ones.

* And they would have long conversations/arguments boasting about which of them is the most hideous and hated by the inhabitants of this world. And swap fashion tips. Maybe Jataro could make him a cool mask or cloak, and Gundham would bring him scavenged jewelry and metal to use in his art and tinkering.

* Jataro definitely builds all kinds of cool weapons (that Gundham can't really use bc he's still probably a big faker and his animals do all the physical stuff but hey, he looks badass posing with it and giving monologues. And isn't that the most important thing?)

* Jataro also builds an AMAZING playpen/training structure for the many many hamsters.

* Gundham teaches him to draw runes in exchange and he paints them all over the place. There is no surface left unscribbled and this time Kotoko can't critique his art or he'll turn her into a frog or smth. That totally will work Gundham swears it will

I could go on tbh but I'll just drop these here for now. The Flappy Clothing Bois please just let me have this

#bear txt #not omo #drspoilers #dr spoilers #i'm not censoring names bc there's too many #if anyone misbehaves they get blocked i don't get paid to babysit lol #the only naughty child i care about is 1 (one) murdery skin wearing boi 💛#i couldn't find a gif for j/ataro 😭 I had hoped someone did the marionnette scene RIP

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gascon-en-exil · 4 years

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Mercilessly Judging the Men of Fòdlan: The Kingdom

It’s been a long time coming, over eight months in fact, but now that it may be assumed that the last of the DLC has been released and the fandom as a whole has settled comfortably into its various camps I think there’s no better time than now to answer that burning question: how raunchily, outrageously gay can the male cast of Three Houses possibly be? For those unfamiliar with this fun little series of mine, I’ve been applying my extensive knowledge and experience of gay male sex and hookup culture to the men of Fire Emblem, originally as a way of reckoning with the refusal of the games themselves to provide me with any worthwhile self-insert M/M content. I stand by that premise for FE16 - you all know how absolutely nothing appeals to me about m!Byleth or his prospects on that score - but in the years since my first outing of merciless judgment with Awakening that idea has expanded into something broader, an imaginative modern AU of sorts where all these guys are into men (if not always exclusively) and willing to put themselves out there in the lewd and semi-anonymous world of hookup apps in search of their preferred carnal delights.

A note on organization before we begin, as this material is too long to cram into one post. Excluding Byleth (as Avatars and their spawn always are for this project) there are twenty-one playable male characters in Three Houses. This makes for an even threeway division to preserve the eponymous conceit of the game, but not a particularly neat one. Aligned with the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus I therefore have below the male Lions, Kingdom knight and Azure Moon-exclusive Gilbert, and Faerghus-based underworld kingpin Yuri. As with all things concerning M/M outside of Byleth and his awkward S rank monologues, the Lions have it the most clear-cut.

The Empire

The Alliance

Dimitri

It’s rare that you can get a feeling for someone’s whole life story entirely from watching their presence in hookup spaces over time, but he’s an exception. Once a sweet, wide-eyed collegiate who looked eager to get dicked down by any reasonably polite and attractive top/vers, hard years have turned him grim and sad and just barely put together enough to be presentable for a clothed face pic, much less anything more revealing...and still eager to get dicked down. He’s been dealing with a lot lately, and even though he’s still game for a quickie from time to time (especially with muscle guys, a shallow weakness of his he’d blush to admit to out loud) a single roll in the sheets isn’t going to make him emotionally available. Apparently he’s already well-covered on that front as it is; with his charisma and open-minded way of looking at the world he’s made many friends and fuck buddies and companions who seem half like boyfriends and half like something indescribably beyond that, and a new trick would be hard-pressed to compete with that and likely wouldn’t want to if it means engaging with his demons. Still an enviable hookup partner though, with a full pert ass and a whole assortment of friends who love to play with him and anyone else who lands an invitation to his bed. His cock has left many a bottom drooling, but unfortunately he’s haunted by the memory of the time when he went too hard and nearly caused a medical emergency. Now he just takes it and doesn’t even let anyone ride him, but there are just as many men who aren’t complaining about that in the slightest. Has a very high chance of winding up in a tender and fulfilling poly marriage that’s still open on all sides - he’s got a lot of hot, sweaty love to give.

Favored erotic tea time subjects: body worship, muscle bears, group sex

Favored gift: a body pillow, on the infrequent occasions where he has to sleep alone with no one to cuddle

Dedue

One of those shy larger men who will never initiate conversation, because he’s been blown off one too many times for shallow reasons and isn’t expecting that to ever change. It doesn’t bother him greatly though, because as his profile states he’s in a relationship and he and his partner only play together so unless you’re only looking for friends - not impossible, as he’s got quite the array of engaging hobbies on display in his pics - you’ll have to accept that this bear has a cub...or something like that anyway. Bad at small talk and even a little embarrassed to talk about his expertise in the kitchen or the garden, it’s a completely different story when the lights are off where he’ll give cocky power bottoms and scoffing total tops exactly what they deserve. Sub bottoms on the other hand bring out his softer, cuddly side, and he’s more likely to be using his considerable weight to lovingly press them into the mattress as he opens them up with his tongue and eventually his dick. Is utterly devoted to his partner but enjoys watching him playing around with third parties, even if he’s almost never allowed to sit on the sidelines for the entire night. To the shock of everyone he’s actually a total vers, even if he leaves most tops stammering excuses and bending over for him anyway. He’s usually polite enough to stick to oral in those cases. He’ll never be the most sociable man, but he’s a real catch regardless in every other aspect and is no doubt looking forward to his inevitable wedding and only sometimes X-rated married life. Still fondly recalls the first time someone introduced him to the idea of sex while cooking, and now he takes it as a challenge (only when he’s cooking just for himself and his sexual partners, of course; he doesn’t want to be unsanitary).

Favored erotic tea time subjects: twunks, voyeurism, cum swapping

Favored gift: a chef’s apron short enough to let his junk hang free

Felix

Has a biting retort for every unsolicited nude and “looking?” ever sent to him, and he gets a lot of both when his pic is just enticing enough and his profile is full of enough acerbic wit to provoke the kinds of guys who actually read those things. Claims he’s vers, gets pissed whenever anyone tells him that’s just code for bottom, gets even more pissed after hookups when his partner points out that that’s totally true in his case. Prefers oral to conversation, both giving and getting, and he’s got a remarkable talent for handjobs that surprisingly doesn’t seem to be born from excessive masturbation. Not so great with fetishes - he punched the first guy to pull his hair while he was giving head, and passes made at him during his workouts leave him more annoyed at the interruption than aroused. Disarmed by anything too soft and cutesy so he’s not great with fems, but it’s unclear if this has anything to do with his lingering daddy issues that he’s not working out in the bedroom because they’re (probably) not like that. Not sentimental at all, but he’s probably got that one longtime slow burn affair he doesn’t bring up with his tricks. If anything ever comes of that he’ll vanish immediately from the app space, but until then he’s up for a 69 followed by a good long pounding - much longer than you’d expect from someone of his frame. Good thing too, because he loves making his partners cut loose and give it to him raw and hard.

Favored erotic tea time subjects: “straight” guys, dildos, pig sluts

Favored gift: high-quality lube. and lots of it

Ashe

Everyone’s BFF, sweet and affable and able to bounce from friend group to friend group even without always having to take his clothes off. Usually finds himself as the token twink surrounded by men who are very much not that, because they value his friendship and reliability (and also his ass, as expected). Did not have the best home life and has probably had to do a few shady things to get by, but with all that mostly behind him anyone would be happy to date him or even just to take a walk with him, as he’s quite outdoorsy when he’s not taking care of relatives or less responsible friends. A bottom by expectation because there’s not much else one can infer when he shows up to bars and house parties alike in the company of guys twice his size who aren’t shy about being casually handsy with him. Still, has learned to be quite deft when the need arises and knows how to stimulate on multiple fronts, whether for one partner or several. His weakness for muscles is genuine too, and he loves a firm chest as much as taking some guy’s thick meat. Paradoxically doesn’t have a lot of patience for dumb jocks, but since he knows just about everyone worth knowing (and sleeping with) in his area and works the freckled fresh-faced young cutie angle with an artlessness that surprises some of his less gifted peers he’s bound to wind up in a comfortable relationship of some kind or another. Prefers to have sex with the lights on, and if given the option will cuddle for a long time afterward to avoid turning them off. His ass has freckles too, but he rolls his eyes when he gets asked that.

Favored erotic tea time subjects: gym sex, spit roasting, breaking in new bottoms

Favored gift: a sensible jockstrap, for workouts and for dates

Sylvain

Everyone you know has slept with him, but almost never more than once. You might have even met him in person long before you encounter his minimalist profile with its headless abs pic hitting you up with a shot of his erection measured against a beer can followed by an address. Gets a lot of action on that pic alone, but repeats are few and far between when he pulls out his phone right after pulling out of his guy of the hour and starts browsing through what’s on offer again and slow jerking. Not a big fan of FWBs met through hookups since he always feels like they’re being too clingy even if they just happened to get horny for him again a few weeks later. Does not like to talk, especially about his family, and he almost never extends an invitation to spend the night. Still, as callous as he is that cock is impressive and he knows how to put it to work. Good with his mouth too, and true to his cultivated total top persona he’d sooner rim than blow. He’s also successful and likeable enough in his personal life to have buddies who’ll play around with him, and he might even have some kind of nebulous long term thing going with one or two of them that they strictly don’t discuss. Bottoms only as a challenge, but he’s not great at it and doesn’t have the stamina to last very long while riding. Is on PreP and uses condoms religiously so he’s got that going for him, but testing after sex with him is still recommended because there’s really no telling how many other holes he’s filled that week. Likes twinks and twunks, but loudly refuses to ever be a sugar daddy no matter how desperate he might get in his later years assuming he doesn’t die of untreated syphilis or something equally appropriate and ridiculous.

Favored erotic tea time subjects: marathon fucking, double penetration, open relationships

Favored gift: a fleshlight molded into the shape of his favorite fuck buddy’s hole, for sentimentality

Gilbert

His pics are neither very current nor very flattering, and he doesn’t excel at small talk although he’s evidently been around long enough to know how to get an open-minded hookup over to his place from time to time. Encounters are fast and fumbling and drawn out more by his waning libido than anything else, and half the time he’ll settle for watching a guy play with himself in front of him while he makes an effort to get into it. It would be inaccurate to say that he’s not a romantic man; rather, it’s as though all his passion has been left behind in a difficult former life that he only reveals some of in long wistful moments over multiple encounters. Doesn’t get many repeats however on account of the lackluster performances, and also because his stubbornness bordering on self-righteousness about certain topics becomes very grating very quickly. Based on the stories he tells and the few pictures he has to show he was quite a catch in his earlier days, but circumstances and being closeted until much later in life kept him from exploring as much as he wanted. Has the potential to end up in a loving if not particularly sexual relationship with someone provided they’re extremely patient as he works through and/or learns to set aside his numerous hangups. There are worse fates...but never, ever call him daddy. It brings up a lot of bad memories, plus he just thinks it’s weird. Kink is something he left behind decades ago when he resigned himself to the knowledge that he wasn’t going to be getting much vanilla action, much less anything more exotic.

Favored erotic tea time subjects: mutual masturbation, actual straight guys, spooning

Favored gift: the balls to get some closure

Yuri

A consummate professional, albeit one whose marketing strategy carefully conceals that fact and also leaves no room for the kind of casual bigotry that flourishes on hookup apps - having a problem with “no fems” is expected from the build and the guyliner, but he’s all for equal opportunity sex even on top of that. Accustomed to the usual array of lonely and horny men who hit him up for pics and dirty chat and the occasional good time, and skilled enough in a variety of roles to perform whatever’s being asked of him. It’s not entirely clear where his own tastes lie; even the muscled closet cases who show up in his messages on the DL don’t seem to do all that much for him if they’re not paying. A former career in the arts has left him with an entertainer’s flair for pleasuring his clients both in and out of the bedroom along with an eclectic skill set that always finds a way to get put to work during sex. He can grind his hips, swirl his tongue, arch his back, and moan in the just the right ways to drive his partners wild, and all that experience also lends itself to his ability to patiently tutor even the clumsiest of lovers into something resembling competence, enough for them to get off if not himself. Bottoms more often than he tops, but he’s vers enough in skill and in preference to pivot when necessary and will probably have little trouble keeping this gig of his going later in life as well. He may not ever end in a proper relationship, but he’ll still do well for himself in an unorthodox way in keeping with the curiously world-weary optimism he sometimes espouses during pillow talk with guys who actually interest him enough for conversation.

Favored erotic tea time subjects: flip fucking, big top/small bottom, religious kink

Favored gift: creative restraints, for when he’s feeling acrobatic

#Fire Emblem #FE16 #Fire Emblem Three Houses

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rogueariadne · 4 years

Text

To Have A Villain’s Quirk

TWO: SAY SOMETHING

Constant talking, yelling, people crowding the halls, bumping into the maroon-haired girl. It was so loud. She just wanted it to be quiet- she quickly shook that thought from her head. She couldn't let her emotions take her over. She just needed to get to class and get the day over with. Kaida took a few deep breaths as she heard the bell ring, weaving her way through the dispersing crowd. It was going to be a long day.

She could hear the laughter throughout the day, hearing the condescending tones of the people around her.

"Wow, that class has two quirkless kids. What are the odds?"

If only they knew.. if only they knew.

Kaida found her seat relatively quick, behind the boy with the green hair. The one she'd sometimes talk to during projects. He was so nice, and he was quirkless. The one who was always picked on by everyone else. She wasn't as picked on, given she'd glare at anyone who tried to come near her. She rested her cheek on her hand, staring out the window as class progressed, hardly tuning in.

"Sooo, as third year students, it's time to think about it your futures and what you want to do with your lives. I could pass out your career aptitude test, but why bother? We all know you all want to go into the hero course, right?" Kaida's ears perked at the sudden cheering over the teachers words. It only made her sigh, glancing around the room.

"Yes, yes. You all got some very impressive quirks, but no power usage allowed in school. Get a hold of yourselves." The cheering slowly died down and the young girl, rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the sky.

"Hey, teach, don't lump me in with these bunch of losers." Her violet eyes swiveled to the ash blond boy near the front. Bully. She could feel his smirk all the way to where she sat. "I'm the real deal but these guys will be lucking to be a sidekick to some busted D-lister. Ha!" He laughed, making Kaida clench her fist. What an asshole. She could hear everyone getting worked back up.

"You think you're better than us, Katsuki?" One kid shouted, making Bakugo shot up from his seat, his quirk activating.

"Let's go! I'll take you all on!"

"Huh. You've got an impressive test result. Maybe you'll get into UA High." The teacher inputted, and Kaida flinched. Was he really going for the same school? Of course he was. It's the best in the country.

"He's gonna try for the national school?"

"That school has a point two percent acceptance rate."

"It's impossible to get into." Student after student joined in, and it only made the girl feel worse. She could even see the boy in front of her shaking.

"That's exactly why it's the only place worthy of me!" Why did he feel the need to stand atop his desk? "I aced all the mock tests, I'm the only one at this school who stands a chance of getting in. I'll end up more popular than All Might himself, and I'll be the richest hero of all time! The people all across the world will know who I am and it all starts with UA High!" The hot head seemed to shout at the top of his lungs; Hiyama saw everyone getting annoyed with his dumb monologuing. And Kaida wanted to believe that she at least stood a chance, too.

"Oh yeah, Midoriya, Hiyama, don't you two want to go to UA as well?"

Shit.

The class erupted into laughter as the two classmates jumped in surprise at their names being mentioned, both faces growing red from embarrassment. So, green hair wanted to get in, too. Even though he was quirkless. That was admirable. But she believed the teacher made a mistake mentioning it.

"Midoriya and Hiyama? You're kidding right?"

"There is no way you're both getting into the hero course without a quirk!" They called out. Kaida clenched her teeth, refraining from letting her eyes show her true nature. She could hear Midoriya stuttering out his defense.

"U-uh, actually, they got rid of that rule. We could be the first ones.." He felt the need to include her? Instead of just saying him? She was touched, but she didn't want to be called out any longer. She caught Bakugo leaving his seat and going towards Midoriya, his hand sparking. Lucky for her, she noticed in time and quickly scooted her chair to the side. He slammed his hand down atop the poor boys desk, blasting it to pieces. Midoriya fell to the floor, Kaida flinching as he dropped beside her. She wanted to reach her hand out and help him, but Bakugo had slammed his hand on her desk too, not blowing it up, but it still startled her.

"AARRGH! Listen up, Deku! And you too, Red! You're even worse than these damn rejects, you quirkless wannabes! You really think they'll let someone like you in when they can have me?!"

"Huh?! No way, you got it all wrong, really! I'm not trying to compete against you. You gotta believe me! It's just that I wanted to be a hero since I was little. I may not have a quirk but can still try my hardest, can't I?" Midoriya rambled on, Kaida just staring at the two. Should she speak? She never really defended herself or spoke out against anyone, what could she do?

"You'll never be able to hang with the best of the best, you'll die in the exams, both of you, defenseless Izuku. The schools already crappy. You guys really want to embarrass it more by failing so hard." Bakugo continued to rant on, and really, she had heard enough. Kaida jolted up from her seat, glaring the boy down with violet eyes, feeling them threaten to change.

"You really are an egotistical, narcissistic asshole, aren't you?" She started, and Bakugo lifted his hand.

"What did you say, Red?!"

"You heard me. You won't be laughing when we get in and pass you so easily. Remember, you won't be the only one with an amazing quirk. There will be ones that are way better than you could ever be." She growled out, fists clenched. She found herself standing in front of him, back facing the class. She was actually standing her ground for once.

"You damn brat! I outta-!" He started to swing his hand, but she wasn't going to let him this time. She caught his wrist, looking down before back up at him, her eyes black with the faint glow of red pupils.

"Do what?" She asked lowly. The demon tails threatened to pin him against the wall but she wouldn't let it. Katsuki and Midoriya stared at the girl, the room deathly quiet as she released his wrist and moving to help the green eyed boy up, eyes back to their violet hue.

"You okay?" She asked softly, squeezing his hand as she pulled him up. He gave a slight nod, a thankful but timid smile gracing his expression. She heard Bakugo click his tongue as he returned to his seat, the teacher finally clearing his throat and pulling the unwanted attention off of the two.

After class, having moved seats so Midoriya could have hers, Kaida stretched back in the chair as she listened to the students chatter away. She could faintly hear Midoriya mumbling to himself about the fight this morning. She smiled a little. Maybe it could do her some good to make some friends. That being said, she stood up to make her way over to him, hesitant as she saw Bakugo approach him and take the notebook from the boys hands. Why was she hesitant now? She didn't have a problem standing up to him early.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, Deku, but we're not done." He started.

"What you got? His diary?"

"Uh..." She could see he was physically uncomfortable with the interaction and wanted to intervene but the look on his face seemed to look like he was going to say something back.

"Huh?! Don't tell me you're taking notes on how to be a hero?!" "That's so pathetic!"

"Haha, he's delusional." They laughed and laughed over something so important to him. They were also bullies.. she gritted her teeth but her feet wouldn't move.

"Uh... Really funny guys. Just give it back." Kaida flinched as the notebook in hand exploded. She could see Bakugo show him the notebook before tossing it out the window beside her, making the young boy freak out. Finally, she moved.

"Hey! What the hell is your deal?!" She shouted, making her way to them before his two lackys stood in front of her, blocking her way to the red eyed boy. Bakugo just glared at her, seemingly addressing the both of them, but mostly Midoriya.

"Hum. Most first string heroes show potential early on. People look at them and just know they are destined for greatness. When I'm the only student from this garbage junior high to get into UA, people will start talking about me like that. They'll realize I'm legit, the next big thing. That's my ego talking but I just know know I'm good." He smirked at the two of them, like he happened to forget what had happened early.

"Really? Because the way you act, you're nothing more than a soon-to-be villain." Kaida glared at them, hard. Bakugo was unfazed, clicking his tongue again.

"From the look of your eyes earlier, looks like you are, Red. Not me." That hurt. And he could see it on her face as he turned back to Midoriya, resting his half-quirk-activated hand on Midoriyas shoulder. "Here's a word or advice, nerd. Don't even think of applying. Or else."

Kaida looked down as the boys and Bakugo began to leave, hearing Midoriya start stuttering. The two boys laughed.

"That's just sad. I thought you would have at least some fight in you."

"He finally gets it. He'll never be a hero. Better to find out now then later, I guess."

"You know, if you really want to be a hero that badly, there's actually another way. Just pray that you'll be born with a quirk in your next life and take a swan dive off the roof of the building." Bakugo said, looking back at them with a big smug grin as he walked out the door, only stopping as Midoriya turned to him with a more confident look on his face. Only to be deflated by Bakugo's glare. Kaida couldn't believe how long she waited to say something.

"Hey, Midoriya? Do you.. wanna walk out together?"

#THAVQ #To Have A Villain's Quirk #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanstory #fanstory #kaida hiyama #hiyama kaida #rogueariadne

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doomedandstoned · 5 years

Text

Time To Roll: STONERROR Mark Robust Return with ‘Widow In Black’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

Album art by Justyna Verdavaine

We've always got our ear to the rumblings of the heavy underground, looking out for something special. Well, we've found a new record that will keep you floating on for a quite some time. It comes to us via STONERROR, a psychedelic stoner-punk foursome from Kraków that have been jamming since 2015. They made an impression on us two years ago with their freshman full-length 'Stonerror' (2017), of which I wrote:

"Stonerror is revved up, fuzzed out, and itching to go out for a spin -- and damn, what a bitchin' bassline this record has! Not your usual stoner rock fare. Stonerror have definitely put a lot of thought and craftsmanship into this one. Fans of Kyuss, Dozer, Fu Manchu, Greenleaf, take notice!

If the first album was fire, let me warn you to buckle in for the fantastically frenetic follow-up! Not only does 'Widow In Black' (2019) sound fantastic, sonically, the new record is taking us on a thematic joy ride that is sure to warrant your invested listening for the long haul.

Photo by Marcin Pawłowski

Without doubt, Widow In Black is one of the year's most engaging, heart-thumping, hair flying wildly in the wind kind of records. Take for example, the humorously named "Kings of the Stone Age," a genuine stoner-pop marvel, which musters the bouncy verve of QOTSA and the f^*%-you punk intensity of Mutoid Man. "Revelation" brings us pop sensibilities reminiscent of Torche, while "Hellfire" shreds as hard as anything Radio Moscow or Earthless has brought to the fore. "Ships on Fire" is one of my particular favs, channeling the balls-out fury of ASG, accented by some of those big, bendy, Soundgarden-esque riffs. And I absolutely love those sweet, sweet hooks and licks in "Asteroid Fields."

As with the first record, this Stonerror crew is lightning together. You've got Łukasz Mazur on lead vocals and guitar, with Jarosław Daniel shredding it up on guitar, Jacek Malczewski on bass (also pitching in on some nice vocal harmonies), and the steady hand of Maciej Ołownia on drums. It's an unbeatable, finely tuned machine that feels neither uptight nor undisciplined. They're just free, man, free.

To draw a comparison with Kyuss (yes, I feel one is warranted after soaking this all in): if Stonerror was the Wretch of the band's discography, then Widow In Black is surely its Blues For The Red Sun. Stonerror toggle between a wide range of interlocking styles with confidence, delivering exciting psychedelic touches, grinding desert riffs, soaring choruses, and dreamy post-metal finishes. It's a perfect companion to last year's The Sea by Somali Yacht Club, not to mention a fine complement to ASG's Survive Sunrise.

Widow In Black releases on Wednesday, May 22nd, and can be pre-ordered on CD and vinyl here. Leading up to its release, you can hear it all from edge to center right here, right now, on our bitchin' lil blog!

Give ear...

Widow in Black by Stonerror

A Chit-Chat with Stonerror

Congrats on the new record! It sounds fantastic. Would love to know more about the recording process.

Widow in Black was recorded live in one room, on a vintage 16-track Studer magnetic tape recorder and mixed in analog -- in real time -- to stereo track. That’s our usual mode of recording and mixing. We prefer it to digital technologies, because it allows us to catch the momentary energy and synergy of playing together as a band. Also, the sound is a lot more dynamic and “breathing” than in case of digital recording and mixing. Once again, we worked with one of the best producers in Poland – Maciej Cieślak, who’s also a renowned musician and composer.

Right on. Well, let's get into the thematic content of 'Widow In Black,' because that especially interests me.

Lyrically, “Widow in Black” is a concept album. The first four songs (“Ships on Fire”, “Widow in Black”, “Tumbleweed”, and “Kings of the Stone Age”) tell a story of a doomed, turbulent, and painful -- but also intense and all-consuming -- love affair. The apocalypse comes in “Domesday Call,” leaving the protagonist utterly alone, battered, and surrounded by ashes and rubble. In “Hellfire” he descends all the way to hell only to return stronger and mentally transformed. Having experienced excruciating and cathartic solitude in “Mothership”, he sets himself free and leaves the past behind in “Revelation.”

I have to say, I love concept albums. What was the underlying inspiration for these tracks?

Some of our lyrical inspirations include:

“Ships on Fire”: inspired by Ridley Scott’s “Blade Runner” dialogues, especially the famous “Tears in Rain” monologue.

“Widow in Black”: Freudian sexual motives, Greek mythology.

“Kings of the Stone Age”: made up of sexual innuendos from James Bond movies, with references to David Bowie (“Heroes”) and Iggy Pop & The Stooges (“Gimme Danger, “Raw Power”, and “I Wanna Be Your Dog”).

“Hellfire”: based upon Dante Alighieri’s “Divine Comedy” and the ancient Icarus myth.

“Mothership”: references to David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” and sci-fi movies.

“Revelation”: based upon the Buddhist concept of spiritual enlightenment.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

#D&S Debuts #Stonerror #Wroclaw #Poland #Stoner Rock #Punk #D&S Reviews #D&S Interviews #HeavyBest19 #Doomed & Stoned

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swords-guns-blogs · 6 years

Text

One Year Later

Oh, hi there! You may recognize me as a cute cuddly version of your favorite regenerative degenerate. "Hello Deadpool", if you will. If you keep up with those old fashioned paper "kah-micks" that come out month to month, you're probably realizing this is what we in the biz like to call the re-cap page. Because let's face it! Life happens! Sometimes you're all set to write a bunch of replies that help shape a beautiful story about an idiot and his dream of owning a boat and then sometimes you fall off the face of the Earth for an entire year. Point being, it happens, but the story must go on!

Right... The story. Where exactly where we again? Hold on a sec, I need to reread this myself. Don't go anywhere, it'll just take me a seco-JEEZ THEY WRITE A LOT. Entire paragraphs?! Come on. What happened to the good 'ol days when they placed all of their replies in 140 characters or less? I mean the occasional TwitLonger was fine, but this is going to take me forever! [Now might be a good time to reintroduce the "laws" of how you present yourself, Wade]

Nice thinking, Boxy! You see, this is all taking place on a website teenage girls use to blog about their favorite porn and TV show GIFs. [That's not even remotely wh-] And I've been able to take advantage of these blogs and their rich text editors to really convey all the craziness that goes in my noggin. You'll notice that right now, everything is just plain text! Real free form stuff, no fancy bold or italicized effects. This is just me, talking to you [The reader]. Yeah that's right. I actually understand all of this nonsense. I'm well aware that this one guy writes for me [In his image sometimes] and his Canadian sister from another mister is the only one who reads the replies [Bless her]. You might notice the occasional enclosed bracket segment in my monologue as well. Well that's just my thoughts. Now I know what you're thinking, "Wade, I thought these were already your thoughts? Just voiced towards me, the reader?" Well they are! The boxes are just my OTHER thoughts! Sometimes there's only the one [I'm the voice of reason], sometimes I bring in a second one {I like a little crazy!} and if you ever see the dreaded third... It'll be too late for you. I think that just about covers everything! [Actions?] Speak way louder than words, agreed. Especially since these type of words have no sound to them. [... sigh Actions like that. The bold text.] OH! Right! Given how ridiculous my speech is in word form, my lovely writer is fond of using bold words to represent the story. You can consider this when he truly takes over, I don't typically have much say or control of what torture he places on me. {Like the time he blew your nuts off and made you a teenage girl?} Ha, Classic Austin. [You done yet?] Oh yeah, I scarfed the last one down in the middle of all that explaining. [Not lunch, you idiot! The recap. Did you read it all yet?] Eh. I'm gonna wing it. [Oh boy] inhales Maximum Effort. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wade pressed his shoulder against the frame of the wooden porch as he stared out at the morning sun. It was just peaking over for the first time, the pink tones of the clouds only helped the orange of the sun appear to be more vibrant. As a few birds landed on the soft ground in front of the two-story yellow ranch house, a smile crept onto Wade's face. Closing his eyes, Wade took a moment to appreciate the calm sounds of the country air, the birds below picking for worms, and with one deep inhale he took in all of the scents that the warm cup of coffee he had just brewed. As he opened his eyes, he couldn't help but feel that life was just better this way. No worries, no regrets, just a large plot of land, several rows of seasonal crops, a few farm animals to provide the necessities, and of course, her. Wade stepped off the porch and onto the brown stairs that led him to the ground. The birds turned and scurried off to a new patch of grass as Wade walked by. With their new home and new lives came one extra amenity, an amazing view. It had become a morning tradition for Wade, to walk the land that he had cultivated with his bare hands, only to end up at the edge of the mountain the home sat upon. As he pushed through waves of Corn Stalk, Wade couldn't help but turn his head when a couple of crow's began to 'Kaw', that's when he laid eyes on an old familiar face. They had realized really early on that their bird friends were going to take their fair share of the land, so to combat against those Crows who weren't as brave, Wade had built a scarecrow. Standing taller than the stalks of corn, Wade looked up at his old suit and mask. It had been stuffed to the brim with hay and nailed to a board as to give the impression of it being a real person, a Deadpool Scarecrow. No matter what the circumstances were, it always put a smile on his face to see his old work uniform in such display. As he moved past the corn and onto the lettuce patches and tomato vines, Wade could see it. The breathtaking view that had made their decision to move here so easy. You could see the country side for miles, deep rolling hills filled in with lush vegetation and tree lines. Two rivers ran through towards the bottom of the mountain and when it rained, they would always echo the valley with sounds of clean and pure running water. And on the top of all the tree's, just barely peeking over, was that vibrant orange sun. Wade took another drink from his mug, as he let the warm liquid sit in his mouth for an extra second, he tried to take a moment and truly appreciate what his life had turned into. To appreciate all the hard work they had put into their new home. To appreciate the risk, the reward, the fright of change, and the fruits of labor. As his eyes opened back up and he downed the coffee, Wade's ears perked as he heard the front door open up. His head turned back to the house as he spotted her walking out onto the porch, the special cup of coffee he had made just for her in hand. As she leaned over the side of the porch, Wade couldn't help but give a big goofy wave from all the way on the edge of the land. With a smile plastered to his face, he started the walk back to her. No matter how many times they had repeated this exact scenario, Wade never got tired of this feeling. Each step was agony and bliss, as he was forced to be without and her but slowly grew closer. The sooner he had his arms wrapped around her the better. Wade disappeared through the back end of the corn stalks and within a few moments he had emerged the other side using a path he had made forever ago, this always made them both laugh. As Wade stepped out from the corn stalk, he heard her voice "Hello, my love". Wade stopped dead in his tracks. ...Her voice. It wasn't... her voice. That voice was cold... He had heard it before, but not in such a long time... His body was frozen, he couldn't move if he had wanted... So she moved him herself. Wade felt a magical force begin to twist his head, forcing his eyes to turn back to the corn stalks. Soon enough his feet and body followed the magical suggestions, until he was entirely facing the stalks. Her dark magic didn't stop there, one by one each corn stalk began to slowly turn black. Starting at the base of the plant, a black color began to take over and destroy the plant. When the entire stalk had been taken over in darkness, it disappeared into ash, catching itself in the wind. As more and more stalks began to vanish into ash, a hazy black fog began to form. Wade tried to turn his head, he tried to take a step backwards, but he just couldn't. That's when the darkness started to form, enough stalk had vanished that he could make out the Deadpool Scarecrow in the middle of the field and standing next to it was the bone chilling voice he had heard just moments ago. Stepping out from behind the red uniform, covered in ash herself, was none other than Lady Death. Her robe and hair blended in with the dark ash that swirled around the air, only her bright white bones were visible. She had a loving smile on her face as she watched the vegetation die off, her hand drifted along with the wind, taking in every moment. It was as if she was looking at her own impressive mountain view. Only less trees and rivers and there was no vibrant orange sun peaking over... Wade was screaming internally, to the top of his mental lungs. His only thought was the woman behind him... Even if he could turn back and see her, something told him she wasn't there anymore. This was a beautiful dream shifting into a horrid nightmare. "You've made quite the home for yourself, Wade... I always thought this would be the life we would share one day." Wade snarled, again internally, his body was still frozen. No matter how hard he tried to move backwards, he couldn't. Oddly enough, trying all his options, Wade noticed he could move forward. But he was fighting it with everything in his soul. "Well don't just stand there, silly. Get over here!" With a sickening grin, she snapped her fingers. Wade's stomach dropped as he felt his body moving in one fluid motion. Despite being motionless, his frozen frame dug against the dirt and slowly made its way to Death's side. "Wade... I'm getting the feeling you don't want to be with me. Please... Don't tell me there's someone else." Wade felt his head drop, he was losing hope, and her words only made him worry more. "Oh, Wade... I don't think I ever felt your emotions this strongly..." Her tone began to grow slightly more agitated. "...I thought I knew what your love felt like, but this..." She let out a exhaustive sigh, growing tired with what she was discovering. She walked closer to Wade, grabbing his jaw with her hand. "You don't think you of all people are /that/ lucky, do you Wade? You don't get this kind of ending." Her tone was shifting from that of anger to that of seduction as she took a moment of her own to appreciate the sweat of fear and regret dripping off the man. "Oh... I missed you, my love. Why you ever thought you could replace me with her is beyond me. What does she have that I don't? Life? I can fix that." Wade brought began to hold the weight of his head again. His body was bound by her dark magic to not allow movement, but he was starting to shake with rage. "Oh no... Are you afraid of what might happen to her? Don't worry. I'll make it painless for her. I know, Lady Luck personally, she won't mind getting this one off her plate." Wade's shaking grew more and more violent, his body breaking through the dark magic. As he watched her hands begin to form another "snap" he managed to reach out and grab her by the wrist. He tried to speak, but it was like she had filled his voice box with few kitchen knives. Fighting through the pain he mustered out a pitiful "...No" Death locked eyes with him, her snarky smile fading for a brief moment only to come back stronger. "My love... You're so blind. Don't worry, I will make this right." She goes to snap her fingers again, but Wade has now latched onto her hand. "...I said... NO." Wade lets out a primal scream as he bends back her fingers hearing a few loud cracks. Death stands, unaffected, her smile fading away as she scanned the area around them. The ash from the corn stalk had moved throughout the entire plot of land, darkening it to the point where black was all you could see. Her smile was now a disappointing frown, her time had ran out. "...You can't save her forever. She can't save you either, Wade, luck doesn't work like that. I will ensure our future, my love. You're leaving me for now, but I promise, Wade... I will see you very soon." Wade dropped to his knees as he felt the dark magic exit his body in one fluid departure. Immediately Wade gets to his feet and turns to back to the house, but it's surrounded in darkness. His first attempt is to run towards where the house would be, but after running a few hundred feet it was apparent that he wasn't going to make it anywhere... He had seen this movie before. [Deadpool 2, in theaters now] Wade dropped his head once more as he waited for it to happen... The only thing on his mind was how real and lifelike this had all felt. How this dream was nothing more than that, a dream... Wade would've given anything to be back on that farm, with her. ~~~~~~~ "...I'm sorry, Dom" Wade eyes slowly opened, everything was blurry and he had a headache from hell. His body was still rocking back and forth from the repelling device that was attached to the top of the elevator shaft. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see a rusty nail sticking out of the wall, and it was covered in blood. That probably explains why he could feel a large amount of blood at the bottom of his mask. In reality, Wade had impaled himself on the nail of the elevator shaft, he had been out for sometime and had just now made it back to the land of the living. For Domino, the big red moron had just given her a few minutes of peace and quiet... For Wade, he had been living a dream and all he wanted to do was go back.

[...I ...He ...Oh my, God.]

Wade was silent. Oddly so. It was obvious he was moving and functioning again, but it was just so unlike him not to bust into a Cher song upon regaining consciousness. Instead, he kept to himself, grabbed the rope from the repeal device and started climbing to the top where Dom was waiting. For whatever reason, he couldn't meet her eye line. Instead he climbed through to the next level and readied his guns. “...Snap out of, buddy. That got a little too real.”

#Feels good to be back #Marvel RP #Deadpool #Domino #Farm life

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