#i usually have basis to my statements but i have zero for this

[omegalerc]

Hiding something?????? I’m… thinking thoughts

https://x.com/leclercsletters/status/1866046098000748816?s=46&t=3kuJpIflntq1xyG7Xbw8Sg

EXACTLEE ANON GOOD FIND. this is classic pregnant omega hiding any signs of showing. loose sweater, hand over stomach, smirk on his face. i can even see pregnant written in his eyes…

[beauregardlionett]

you've walked a hundred times before

AO3 Link

“That’s pretty much the lay of the land,” Lydia said, boosting herself up onto one of the plinths. She leaned back on her hands and smiled cheerily as she knocked her heels against the plinth supports. “Any questions?”

Mar hummed, shoving their hands into the pockets of their scrub pants. “How busy is an average night here?”

“Depends on a few things,” Lydia said, crossing her ankles and tipping her head to one side. “Usually the main driving factor is how safe the city is on a day to day basis.”

“Why would that change so frequently?”

Lydia went still, gaze zeroing in uncomfortably on Mar’s face. 

“You have worked in a city before, right?”

“Yeah?” Mar said, hesitant. “During school I had placements in two different major cities.”

“Which ones?”

“Trenton and Philadelphia?” Mar said, failing to see how this was relevant.

“Hm, condolences,” Lydia said, pushing herself off the plinth as Mar made a face at her. “You probably only worked during the day, didn’t you?”

“You know many physical therapy clinics that are open after seven at night?”

“Fair,” Lydia smirked. “Anyway, my point is, Gotham is a fucking nightmare when it comes to crime and weirdo villains - sometimes during the day, but mostly at night. So, the more active they are, the less patients we tend to have. It’s kind of like when the weather gets bad and all the elderly people cancel? Of course, there’s always people who just do not care and show up regardless, so we never have absolutely nothing to do.”

“Hey,” Fariha called, poking her head out of the tiny front office. “I finished organizing the schedule for tonight since Jiro had to take off. First patient should be here soon.”

“Thanks!” Lydia said with a wave. She turned to beam at Mar, brown ponytail swinging and teeth blindingly white under the fluorescents. “I almost forgot to mention, there’s an emergency clinic across the hall you might have spotted on your way in. So if you hear any commotion, it’s probably them and not a robbery. If it is a robbery, Fariha has it covered.”

Mar blinked, opened their mouth, then closed it. They decided to just take that statement at face value and hopefully never find out the details.

“Do we take walk-ins?” Mar asked instead, gaze shifting to the door as it opened. An elderly looking Hispanic woman toddled in, grinning brightly as Fariha called out a greeting.

“Oh yeah, if we have room in the schedule for them. Most of them come in without scripts so I hope you’re prepared to do some detective work.”

Mar hummed again in response as Lydia moved to grab her rolling desk and laptop. 

“Hi, Mrs. Jimena!” Lydia said, gesturing to a plinth in the corner of the room. “Got your table all ready for you. How’s that knee doing?”

Mar ducked into the front office with Fariha, shifting through the small stack of patient charts left out for them. The pro bono clinic was only open for five hours, starting at four in the afternoon and closing somewhere in the vicinity of nine. Lydia had said it depended on what their schedules looked like that determined how early or late they could close up.

“Hey, Fariha?” Mar said, leaning against the filing cabinet to face the cheerful front desk woman. She had a heart shaped face, warm brown eyes, and she hadn’t stopped smiling since Mar met her half an hour ago. Fariha had a slight accent that dripped like honey through every syllable, making her friendly disposition increasingly effective. Her golden septum piercing seemed like the brightest thing in the world under the dingy lighting of the clinic.

Fariha turned her rolling chair to Mar and hummed to show she was listening.

“Lydia said if the schedule is light, we could close early some nights. How does that work with walk-ins?”

“Oh, well, it’s been a while since we’ve gotten to close early,” Fariha said, leaning back in her chair. “But I think the policy is, if we have no one on the schedule, and no walk-ins for half an hour, we can call it a night. Since walk-ins aren’t on the schedule, we don’t lose productivity for closing. Besides, it’s pro bono so it’s not like it affects paystubs.”

Mar nodded, glancing down at the folders in their hands again.

“I also had a question about this paperwork.”

After Fariha patiently explained some of their general paperwork, Mar’s first patient came hustling in, on the verge of tears and breathlessly apologizing for being five minutes late. Between Fariha’s sweet reassurances, and Mar fluidly ushering the patient back to the treatment area, there was mercifully little drama to handle. The next three hours passed without further issue between Mar and Lydia’s patient load, which Mar accepted for the blessing it was. They had only been living and working in Gotham for around three weeks thus far at a hospital based clinic four blocks from here. Mar had ended up agreeing to do pro bono work because they enjoyed it during their time at school and it wasn’t like they had anything better to do.

They occupied a mildly shitty apartment two blocks from the pro bono clinic with a roommate Mar trusted to at least pay their half of the rent. This felt like an about average experience for someone who had finished graduate school five months ago and passed their boards a month prior. Gotham was a less than ideal place to work, but Mar leapt at the job offer that promised an income to start paying back their loans.

“Here’s the paperwork from Mr. Boyle,” Mar said around a yawn, placing the sheets next to Fariha’s keyboard. “Have you heard anything from my next patient, by the way?”

“I just got off the phone with her, actually,” Fariha said, scooping up the papers and placing them in her scanner. “She said she wouldn’t be able to make it. She has to take her mother uptown for some last minute appointment, so I rescheduled her for next week.”

Before Mar could say anything, the door in the waiting room swung open to admit a tall, broad figure wearing…a bodysuit? The man strode up to the window at the desk, beaming with a smile that rivaled Fariha’s and eyes shrouded by a domino mask with white outs. As Mar had told Lydia earlier, they worked in a city during school - so Mar was used to seeing a lot of weird shit. But this was…new.

Mar looked down at Fariha for some reassurance that they were not hallucinating, but she was simply beaming back at their latest entry.

“How may I help you?”

“I saw you take walk-ins,” the man said, like that explained everything about this situation.

“We do indeed,” Fariha said, opening up a new appointment on her computer. “What’s your name so I can enter you in?”

“Nightwing.”

Mar watched in stunned bemusement as Fariha typed ‘Night’ into the slot for a first name and ‘Wing’ in as the last name.

“Age?”

“How old do you think I am?”

Fariha chuckled and entered in a random birthdate that dubbed Nightwing as twenty-five years old.

“Gender and preferred pronouns?”

“Male, he/him, please.”

Fariha entered the information and submitted the appointment. A window popped up claiming the chart needed more information and Mar waited for Fariha to fill in all of the required fields as expected. Instead, she flagged a box next to a line of text Mar was not fast enough to read, pressed ‘enter’, and smiled over the screen at Nightwing.

“You’re in luck, sweetie, we have an opening right now.”

“Great!”

Fariha spun in her chair and stared at Mar. They were still standing beside her, baffled.

“Oh, yeah,” Mar said, voice cracking slightly. “That…that would be me. Uhm…”

Mar looked down at Fariha and then back up at Nightwing.

“Follow me?” Mar said, feeling absolutely delirious. They turned and exited the front office, waiting for Nightwing to join them before leading him to one of the few private rooms they had for evaluations. Still uncertain if this was a fever dream or not, Mar gestured to the plinth in the room for Nightwing to sit on and then glanced out to the floor where Lydia was treating her patient.

“I need to grab my laptop, I’ll be right back,” Mar choked out before ducking from the room.

Their laptop was conveniently located near where Lydia was treating her patient, so Mar snagged her elbow and gestured frantically. Lydia left her patient doing a simple exercise and ducked her head close to Mar, an eyebrow raised with confusion.

“Could you explain to me why a man in a mask and skin tight suit just walked in and Fariha filled out an appointment with little to no information and acted like this was a normal occurrence?”

Lydia’s eyes went wide and Mar had all of two seconds to feel relief that someone here was still sane before that hope was obliterated.

“You got a Mask in your room?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Mar whisper-screeched.

“This is pro bono,” Lydia said, as if that explained anything. When it became clear to her that Mar was not following, Lydia sighed. “Gotham has vigilantes, right? They can’t exactly use their insurance for medical visits without exposing their identities. So we have both the emergency clinic and pro bono for them and for citizens who don’t have insurance or have shitty insurance. Didn’t anyone tell you about the vigilante rules when you signed up for pro bono?”

“Lydia, do I look like anyone explained that to me before I got here?”

Lydia ran a hand down her face and made a noise of exasperation, like she was the one most stressed out by this situation. “Look, they’re just another patient. Do what you normally do!”

“And ignore the spandex and domino mask and the fact that everything about the conduct of this appointment is a severe breach of several APTA guidelines - sure.”

Lydia dropped a hand on Mar’s shoulder and chuckled. “It’s cute that you think the APTA has any jurisdiction here.”

Mar watched her walk away, resignation feeling like a rock in their gut. Rolling their table and laptop back to Nightwing’s room, Mar tried not to look affected by this development.

“Sorry for the wait, Mr. Wing. My name is Mar, and I’ll be your physical therapist this evening.”

“Please, Mr. Wing was my father,” he said with far too much seriousness. “You can just call me Nightwing.”

Mar’s face went hot with embarrassment, well aware they were being teased, as they locked the wheels of their table with more force than necessary.

“Alright, Nightwing,” Mar said, tone clipped. “What brings you in today?”

“My right shoulder has been bugging me for almost two weeks now and it’s not really getting any better. Someone I know used to get physical therapy and said it was great, so I figured I’d just pop in and see what it’s about.”

“You appear to be…working,” Mar said, hesitant as they looked Nightwing’s ensemble up and down. “Do I need to get you in and out quickly this evening?”

“Nah, it’s a slow night. Plus, I know some others are out and about who can cover for me.”

Mar decided not to think about that comment too much. “So, what happened two weeks ago that made your shoulder start bothering you? Anything significant or out of the ordinary for you?”

Nightwing tipped his face to the ceiling, seeming to contemplate the question before shrugging and smiling at Mar. 

“Nothing I would consider out of the ordinary. Usual patrols through Blüdhaven and sometimes here in Gotham, swinging from buildings and lampposts, the occasional flip and somersault, and getting thrown around during fights.”

Mar had been typing as Nightwing spoke, putting everything in a blank note to try and parse through later, but paused at the last comment. They looked up slowly and really took Nightwing in, assessing his posture, where he was holding his weight, and what they could see of his expression. They had a process for evaluation visits, a systematic flow of questions that were considered important, that provided information for both prognosis and diagnosis. Mar had put a lot of time and effort into figuring out a flow that worked for them during their schooling, and was quite proud of the results.

But between Lydia’s comment about the APTA and Nightwing off-handedly mentioning getting “thrown around”, Mar was beginning to question how to proceed.

“What…what constitutes getting thrown around?”

Nightwing tipped his head sideways at Mar like they were the one saying something unusual.

“What do you mean?”

Mar unlocked the wheels on their desk and pushed it aside to stand directly in front of Nightwing.

“I mean people who practice martial arts get thrown around, flyers in cheerleading get thrown around, and they do it in a way that is trained and practical to their goals. How are you getting thrown around and is there anyone there to catch you?”

Even without being able to see his eyes, Mar caught the strange faltering of Nightwing’s easy-going expression. He only slipped up for a moment, plastering it back in place, but it looked shakier. 

“I work solo most nights,” Nightwing said, clearly trying to seem unaffected and almost getting there.

“Okay,” Mar said, making a mental note for his social history and moving on quickly. “So what are you landing on?”

“Uh, pavement? Cinder block walls? Sometimes my feet.”

Mar was beginning to regret signing up for pro bono.

“Okay, so nothing great.”

“If it helps, I do have training and I land on my feet like…nine times out of ten.”

“It doesn’t.”

Nightwing snorted a laugh and grinned at Mar, their heights almost even where he sat on the lowered plinth. Mar had no idea if he actually was twenty-five, but if he was, that made Mar older than him by a few years. It hurt to think about him getting thrown around and having no one to help him up and no one to go home to. But that was a conversation for another day, when they had more of a rapport to go off.

Mar felt slightly ridiculous for thinking they would ever see this guy in the clinic again.

On that thought, Mar decided, fuck it, just do what needs to be done.

“On a scale of one to ten - don’t give me that look, Nightwing - on a scale of one to ten, ten being I’m calling an ambulance, how would you rate your shoulder pain right now?”

“Right now? Uh…three?”

Mar reached over to their laptop and typed his response out quickly. “What is it at worst and what are you doing when it feels like that?”

“Usually when I’m putting weight through my arm or swinging between buildings, and I guess…a six?”

“Does it ever feel sharp, stabbing, or burning? Or is it more of a dull ache?”

“Dull, like I worked out too much.”

Mar typed those pieces of information out, too. They stared at the lines of text, something like disbelief pinching their throat. It was always like this with athletes and performers. Their perception of pain was less about how painful it actually was and more about how much it affected their ability to do what they deemed necessary. Or how much they were able to muscle through and ignore the pain. Mar suspected Mr. Wing here was no different. These numbers were seemingly average pain ratings, but Mar already doubted them based on the comment about concrete.

“Alright, let me get a look at your shoulder.”

They took Nightwing through a quick exam, subtly making sure his nervous system wasn’t royally fucked before actually focusing on his shoulder. If he had any qualms about said exam, he didn’t make them obvious, instead going through every motion and test Mar requested. Then they had him follow along with arm motions, Mar watching his right side carefully for any differences or abnormalities, and kept asking him if different things changed his pain at all. After a few more tests for his shoulder, some of which were less than pleasant for Nightwing, Mar snagged a rolling stool from outside the door and sat down on it next to the plinth. They dragged their desk over and made a few notes on their laptop before pushing it away and looking at Nightwing again.

“Okay, so the good news is, you don’t seem to have any broken bones, and haven’t torn anything in your rotator cuff.”

“Awesome. Does this mean there’s bad news?”

“I wouldn’t call it bad news,” Mar said, twisting their fingers together in their lap. “But you’ve definitely strained your shoulder muscles. It’s not overly serious, but if you don’t give your muscles time to heal, your shoulder is only going to get worse.”

“I thought these things went away on their own,” Nightwing said, distinctly pouting.

Mar pressed their lips together and cursed - not for the first time - the quality of health education in public schools.

“Have you ever heard the acronym RICE?”

“Maybe?”

“It means rest, ice, compression, and elevation. There are other versions of that acronym that are more involved and updated, but there’s nothing wrong with RICE. Anyway, it compiles the basic ideas of how to best treat an injury to your musculoskeletal system. If you don’t do any of that, your injury will absolutely get worse.”

Mar gestured to Nightwing’s shoulder for emphasis and said, “that includes swinging from buildings, by the way, which I guess is the bad news. You should take a break or find a new means of travel that doesn’t involve stressing your shoulder. I’d also prefer if you were thrown into less concrete-like surfaces.”

“Define less.”

“Zero would be ideal.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“I appreciate that,” Mar said flatly. “I’m going to grab you an ice pack instead of having you do exercises for today. While you sit there with it, I have some papers for you to fill out.”

Mar ducked from the room and came back a few minutes later with two papers and an ice pack wrapped in a towel. They adjusted the ice pack on Nightwing’s shoulder and then wrapped it up to hold it in place so he didn’t have to hold it.

“These two papers are what we call outcome surveys. They’ll give me more information on how this injury is affecting you so I know what to focus on in your treatment.”

Nightwing took the offered papers and pen to fill out. Mar pulled their laptop over and started compiling a list of exercises for him, putting more than usual in case they never saw each other again or in case it took him a while to get back here. As they were filling out the note in Nightwing’s brand new electronic chart, Mar paused the cursor over family and social history. They could make a few guesses based on what he said earlier, but they figured it wouldn’t exactly be ethical to not ask. As much as they had wanted to wait until they knew each other better, there was a high likelihood Mar would never see Nightwing again. It felt wrong to let him leave without asking. Plus, despite how far off the reservation from normal this entire encounter had been thus far, Mar wanted to maintain some semblance of sanity this evening.

“Nightwing,” Mar said, peering over their laptop at him. He glanced up, the white outs of his mask level with Mar’s face. “Do you live alone?”

The white outs didn’t move, but Mar could feel the way he was blinking at them, baffled.

“What?”

“I need to make a note about if there is anyone at home with you in case of emergencies. I suppose…given your situation, I don’t need a name or contact information. But it would put my mind at rest to know if there was literally anyone at home or within a reasonable travel distance should you need them.”

Nightwing was silent for a moment longer and Mar was beginning to regret asking, about to shrug it off and tell Nightwing to forget it.

“No, I–I live alone.” Nightwing’s fingers tightened subtly around the pen in his hand. “But I have…people I can contact that live here. In Gotham.”

Good enough.

Mar added a few more exercises to his list in silence, letting Nightwing get back to the papers. They sent the list to the printer and stood, quietly informing Nightwing they would be right back and to finish the papers.

Ducking into the front office, Mar went straight for the printer and ignored Fariha’s insistent stare. Flipping through the papers to make sure they were all present and correct, Mar sighed and turned to Fariha, crossing their arms and raising their eyebrows as a prompt.

“Is he nice?”

“He’s a mess.”

Fariha waved her hand dismissively. “Aren’t they all?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Mar said, voice heavy with sass. “I’ve never worked in a clinic unregulated by the APTA with vigilantes before.”

“It’s fun, right?”

“It’s giving me a headache.”

“You get used to it.��� Fariha twirled back to her computer as the phone on her desk started to ring. She pulled a bottle of NSAIDs from one of her drawers and put it pointedly on the desk beside her. “You haven’t seen anything until you’ve worked the front desk at the emergency department overnight.”

“Sounds great,” Mar muttered as Fariha answered the phone with her cheerful, scripted greeting. Mar took their chance to exit and went back to the treatment room, ignoring the NSAIDs. Nightwing was setting the completed papers on Mar’s rolling desk as they walked in, the ice pack still in place.

“Here’s a list of exercises for you,” Mar said, plopping back down on the rolling stool. “I highlighted the ones I want you to focus on most and wrote down how many times per day and per week I want you doing them. And for the record, I’m banning you from swinging until your shoulder is doing better. If I see you swinging in this city, HIPPA be damned, I’m calling you out.”

“I don’t think that’s legal.”

“I’ve been informed the APTA holds no power here, so I’ll take my chances.”

Nightwing glanced up from his papers in surprise, the white outs of his domino mask widening slightly. “Are you not from Gotham?”

“No, I just moved here a few weeks ago.”

“Oh. That’s surprising.”

Mar glanced up from where they had been typing, eyes narrowed. “Why’s that?”

“You just seemed so calm and unfazed by all this. Usually people who aren’t from Gotham are more…freaked?”

“I have an uncanny ability to tolerate the shit that could only happen in a city,” Mar said in monotone. “I went to graduate school in a city - it’s a survival tactic.”

“Understandable, I suppose,” Nightwing hummed, folding up the sheet and spiriting it away somewhere on his suit. “Still impressive.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Mar stood, closing their laptop before freeing the ice pack from Nightwing’s shoulder. Leaving it on the plinth next to him, they gestured to the door.

“Before I walk you out, do you have any other questions for me?”

Mar was used to patients brushing that off, or immediately firing back with questions about surgery, imaging, or other healthcare visits they might need. It usually provided good insight on how the patient thought the visit went, whether they trusted Mar or not at the end of the session. But Nightwing sat quietly for a long moment, actually contemplating something.

Eventually, he asked, “that comment you made about not swinging until you cleared me, were you serious?”

Mar’s first thought was that’s a stupid question, of course I was serious. Their second thought was why did he ask me that?

“I was. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just…usually B is the only one telling me not to do something for my health and safety.”

Mar pulled their stool back over and sat down again. “Who is B?”

“He’s…” Nightwing paused long enough that Mar began to wonder if he was giving them the silent treatment, hoping they would move on. “Someone I work with.”

“And how well do you follow B’s advice, if I might ask?”

Nightwing immediately turned sheepish, grinning and scratching the back of his head.

“Admittedly…not well.”

Mar exhaled a sharp breath that sounded halfway like a laugh. Leaning forward, they propped their elbows on their knees and folded their hands together, staring up at Nightwing.

“Listen, Nightwing,” Mar said, serious enough to catch his attention. “I can’t actually enforce anything upon you. At the end of the day, your recovery is in your hands and depends on the choices you make. All I can do is provide advice based on the medical knowledge and expertise I have, and support you. So, I am strongly advising you to give your shoulder a break before you actually tear something and end up being unable to do the things you need to do, or require less conservative interventions. You’ve got a lot of strong muscles supporting the joint, but you’re stressing something that’s trying to heal and those other muscles can only do so much. Does that make sense?”

Nightwing nodded, shrouded gaze locked in on Mar. They nodded back and asked again, “any other questions?”

“Nope.”

“Alright,” Mar stood, brushing their hands down their scrub pants and gesturing for the door again. “I’ll walk you out.”

They went to the front desk together, standing at the window to schedule a follow up with Fariha. She explained the cancellation policy to Nightwing and said that if he was unable to keep a scheduled appointment, he could walk in again and they would do their best to get him on the schedule. Mar was fairly certain that was strictly a vigilante policy but they didn’t say so. For all they knew, it probably applied to other patients here, too.

Once Nightwing was set up, Mar walked him out into the short hallway that joined the pro bono clinic with the emergency clinic.

“Thanks again, Mar,” Nightwing said with a grin. He turned to go and Mar couldn’t hold back their last niggling concern any longer.

“Nightwing? I have one more question for you, if you want to answer it that is.”

He turned back to them, seeming nervous but still grinning.

“Earlier, you said that B was the only one who gave you health advice. You seemed surprised about something I consider a routine part of my job.” Mar paused, chewing at the inside of their cheek.

“There really is no delicate way to frame this question. Have you been neglected by other healthcare professionals? Because if you have, we can report them. I could submit anonymous information to the HR department if they’re within the hospital system and I can’t guarantee anything drastic will come of it, but the complaint would still be in the system and–”

Nightwing stepped forward and held his hands up toward Mar. “Whoa, hey. No, I wouldn’t say neglected. It’s just that this system of anonymity for vigilantes wasn’t always a thing, y’know? It’s only come about in the last few years, so it takes some getting used to. The system failed a lot of the vigilantes I know, so even with things like HIPPA and PHI in place, it’s not easy to show up and trust healthcare will keep us anonymous and treat us unbiased. And some of the people I’ve seen think we’re a little…what’s the word? Invulnerable? Like we’re all Superman and can heal quickly.”

“Well that’s stupid.” Mar immediately put a hand over their mouth, flinching. “Sorry, that was unprofessional.”

Nightwing laughed, short and loud. He put his hands on his hips and shook his head, still grinning broadly.

“You’re not wrong. But my point is, I appreciate you treating me like I’m a normal human despite uh…” Nightwing gestured to his ensemble. “This.”

“Until you stop being human, you’re going to be treated like one,” Mar said solemnly, making Nightwing chuckle again.

“I appreciate it.” Something at his wrist beeped and Nightwing grimaced, starting for the door. “Sorry, I really have to go now.”

Mar waved him off and called out, “no swinging, and don’t forget to do your exercises!”

“Sure thing!” Nightwing called as the automatic doors slid shut behind him.

Mar walked back into the clinic, already wondering how the hell they were supposed to document this visit. Fariha and Lydia were inside the front office, Lydia’s patient having left during Nightwing’s visit. They both nearly leapt through the door as Mar entered, figuring they should just get the interrogation over with before they sat down to document.

“Was that Nightwing?” Lydia squealed, eyes sparkling. “Was he nice? Is he as hot as the blog posts claim? How did his butt look?”

Mar made a face at Lydia’s questions, holding their hands up to fend her off.

“Yes, yes, subjective, and I was treating his shoulder, not his ass.”

“He seemed like a very pleasant young man,” Fariha said with a sigh. “I wish my boyfriend was as charming as him.”

“Fariha, your boyfriend is a computer engineer, a massive geek, and plenty charming,” Lydia said without moving her imploring gaze from Mar.

Fariha put her hands over her chest and swooned in her chair. “And I love him dearly. But Nightwing has a different kind of charm - so boyish and sweet.”

“As entertaining as this conversation is,” Mar said flatly. “I need to write up his note so I can go home.”

“Wait!” Lydia whined, chasing after Mar as they left the front office. “I have more questions about Nightwing!”

--

“Morning, sunshine,” Raya chirped, almost immediately getting in Mar’s way as they walked into the clinic the next morning. The hospital was bustling already, despite it being barely seven in the morning, and Mar personally thought that was a direct insult to their exhaustion.

Mar grunted a greeting in response, ducking around Raya and making for the back office where the therapists kept all their stuff. Undeterred, Raya trailed after Mar, grinning brightly like the morning person she was.

“I heard you had a fun night.”

Mar, setting their bag down on their desk, paused and turned to furrow their brow at Raya.

“How the fuck did you hear about that? It has literally been twelve hours since then.”

“Fariha’s, like, my best friend. We talk shit together on Fridays during lunch.”

“Of course you do.” Mar shoved their bag to the back of the desk and swiped up their coffee mug, immediately making a beeline for the office coffee maker.

“So,” Raya said with emphasis. “You met Nightwing.”

“You did not phrase that as a question so I will not deign to answer it.”

“Oh, come on,” Raya groaned, slumping against the wall next to where Mar was persuading the coffee machine to provide them with something to live for. “You’ve got to have something to say about him. He’s, like, objectively one of the coolest heroes in this fucking city and he doesn’t even live here!”

“It seems like everyone who has asked me for details on Nightwing already knows more about him and his ass than I do. You’re just looking for me to confirm some preconceived parasocial ideals, and it is far too early for that.”

“That’s a lot of bold talk for someone who had a five year long ‘delulu’ K-pop phase.”

“One, it was a coping mechanism. Two, I never developed a parasocial relationship about it. And three, Mamamoo is superior and you will pay for insinuating otherwise.”

Raya rolled her eyes and pushed off the wall to head to her desk. “Tell that to the collage of photocards on your bedroom wall, darling.”

“Maybe I will,” Mar said as the coffee maker sputtered out the last dregs of liquid gold into their mug. “At least they won’t talk back.”

Raya snorted an admittedly adorable laugh behind her hand and ruffled Mar’s undone hair as she passed by on her way out of the office.

“Whatever you say, champ. We’ll talk more over lunch.”

“As long as you don’t make me talk about his ass.”

“You’re no fun.”

[stillness-in-green]

Chapter Thoughts — Chapter 391: Rejecting the World + Chapter 392: Villain Name

On Toga’s Accusations

I am somewhat wary that two-thirds of Toga’s accusations towards Ochaco—you’ve never wanted for anything; your life was perfectly easy to live—are worded in such a way that they’re very easily parried by a reminder that Ochaco grew up in poverty.[1]  No, Uraraka never struggled with quirk-based compulsions like Toga did; she always seemed to fit easily into her social surroundings; that doesn’t mean she’s never wanted for anything and has always had an easy life.  It feels extremely akin to the Spinner fanboys yelling at the Black dude that he has no idea what it’s like to be judged by his appearance; it makes the accusers look wildly self-centered, oblivious to hardships suffered by people other than themselves.

That said, Ochaco’s already done the thing where Toga expresses that she finds her life difficult and Ochaco responds by ignoring that statement completely in favor of moralistic scolding about actions having consequences.  One would hope, given the contents of these two chapters, that we’re not due for yet another speech of that sort.  At most, I’d like to see Ochaco use their shared difficulties—different in nature, but both still present—as a basis for empathy rather than an excuse to chide Toga for not trying harder.

A while back, I criticized the Flamin’ Sidekickers for feeling the need to justify their continued association with Endeavor to Dabi—as if their reasoning makes any difference to Todoroki Touya!—and I feel similarly about this. True as it is that Ochaco has faced her own share of problems, her firing back about those problems and comparing her and Toga’s responses to them would not actually be helpful right now in de-escalating the situation.  It’s not always about you and your own problems!  Especially not when you’re trying to talk someone down!  As was the case with the Spinner fanboys, Toga’s in a very bad place right now, and has been for a long, long time.  Ochaco doesn’t have to validate her crimes, but I do think it’s important to validate her pain.[2]

(Hit the jump for more on Toga—her flashback and the intersection of her emotions with her quirk mechanics—as well as some musings on the broader implications of the quirk counseling scene, and the usual assortment of odds and ends.)

   

On Toga’s Emotional Quirk Mechanics

O Nice to finally get a hard confirmation that the doubles are clones of Toga-as-Twice, not clones of Twice himself.  Makes sense, given the speed with which she’s replicating, and makes it slightly easier to justify her own emotional hang-ups interfering with the way Double normally functions, though I’m by no means rescinding my complaints about that whole thing being hella arbitrary. Also, confirming that these are all Togas would seem to make it less probable for Uraraka to be able to pick out the real thing by her tears, right?  If they’re all Toga-masquerading-as-Twice, shouldn’t they all be crying?

O I like the Zeno’s Arrow-esque nature of the problem with Toga’s time limit on her transformation here.  Like, yes, any given double, and Toga herself, will run out of transformation time eventually, but she’s making exponentially increasing numbers of doubles every single second; each one of those doubles is created with the same amount of blood stock its creator had at the moment it started the creation process.  Each double thus comes into existence with one second more time than its creator now has.  So, how thin can Toga slice those seconds?  How infinitesimally close to the timer reaching zero can a double still snap out a new copy, which now has that tiny fragment more time remaining to make a copy itself? Real life doesn’t operate on philosophical time, of course, so she’ll run out of time eventually, prompting a huge tidal wave of Twices turning back into Togas, but it’s a neat thought exercise.

O DELIGHTED that Tsuyu’s guess was off-base, so all the ice-cold, “Toga doesn’t really love the League,” take meta from the people who think the League are toxic and bad for each other is rendered just hilariously short-sighted in retrospect.  Because, hey, maybe you shouldn’t take Tsuyu’s word over Toga’s about Toga’s own feelings!  Imagine that!

O Interesting that, despite the whole horde moving with the feeling of, “All heroes must die!” when they overrun Tsuyu, they don’t kill her on the spot, but rather just bind her and hoist her up as a hostage.  I assume there’s at least some influence from Hori not wanting to kill off any student characters, but extra-canonical explanations being what they may be, it still reflects interestingly on Toga’s own desires and intentions, and certainly her (underutilized) affection for Tsuyu.

   

On Toga’s Flashback

O So like, Toga’s dad definitely hit her in the flashback, right?

His hand is outstretched, specifically visible against the black silhouette of the rest of his figure; he could have just slapped the bird out of her hands, but I don’t think that would have been enough to spin her all the way in the opposite direction from when her parents first discovered her with the bird.  Further, she’s on her knees and hunched over, one arm raised towards the left side of her face, and if you look closely at her cheek in the next panel—

              —you can see a mark on the left side of her face that isn’t there on the right.

I don’t have a particular observation about this to discuss further—just wanted to point it out.  Toga’s father’s first response to seeing his three-year-old daughter holding a dead bird was not to tell her to put the bird down, or to hit it out of her hands, but to slap her so hard it spun her around and knocked her over.  Oh, and then to accuse her of killing it.

The three-year old.  Killing a fully-grown sparrow with her bare hands.  I couldn’t kill a fully-grown sparrow with my bare hands because a fully grown sparrow wouldn’t let me in touching range without flying away!  What is wrong with Toga’s father, exactly, that that’s the assumption he jumps to??

Incidentally, one of the bright little changes the anime made to that sequence back in MVA—one I actually overlooked in the In Memoriam posts—was to specifically animate him slapping the bird out of her hands and then leave her standing there grinning, arms lowered, as her parents continue berating her.  It’s truly astounding that we are still uncovering new issues stemming from the anime’s butchering of My Villain Academia!

O Speaking of Toga material the anime wildly fucked up, let’s talk about ~~quirk counseling.~~

So like, I tried for so long to maintain a layer of skepticism about what Curious said about quirk counseling.  After all, Curious was a villain, a member of a free-quirk-use cult, violently against the current social order.  She was categorically not a reliable narrator about the intentions and outcomes of quirk counseling!  All the same, it seemed safe to assume she was at least partially right, if only because, in a meta view, no one ever showed up to contradict her!  If we were meant to understand that she was wrong, why allow her words to stand uncontested?

Well, it turns out it’s because she was 100% right!

“They attempt to hammer out any bumps in your understanding of the world and program you to fit neatly into society’s little boxes,” she said, and, “The counseling ends up emphasizing the inherent differences among us all.”  And here we find a counselor saying, “Let’s get you all reformed, nice and normal,” thus emphasizing that Toga is very much not normal.

Of course, the counselor then immediately turns around and reveals that Toga’s desires are normal, at least in the sense that “deviant” desires are quite common in “children with powerful quirks.”  It happens all the time, apparently!  Despite the frequency of the problem, though, the best answer Hero Society has come up with is to preach repression, to strictly control who is allowed to use their quirk—and thus alleviate any natural urges that might accompany it.

Remember what Re-Destro said back in Chapter 227?

Wow!  It’s almost like this was an entirely predictable outcome!

O My perennial gloating about the (MVA-era) MLA being justified and correct aside, it’s interesting and, I think, promising that Horikoshi made time to include that bit on quirk counseling here.  Firstly, it reinforces the idea that Toga did not become a villain due to the actions of one discrete villain like AFO; she was failed by society at large, so simply offering her the sanctified blessing of The Sympathy of One (1) Teenager is not going to do a thing about the problems that created her, and will go on creating others like her unless real change happens in the attitudes of the current society.

(Of course, all of that is also true for Spinner, and we saw how the confrontation with the societal problems that created him went, thanks but no thanks, Shouji.)

Moreover, though, it’s yet another element that points in the direction of the Quirk Singularity Theory looming on the horizon.  If quirks are getting stronger and stronger as generations pass (and we’ve got plenty of evidence that suggests that they are) and psychological issues like Toga’s are common in those with strong quirks (and I don’t see any reason for a professional counselor to misstate something like that[3]), then it follows that such issues will also become more common as quirks increase in strength.  Indeed, an irresistibly strong desire to use one’s quirk would be a logical expression of Ujiko’s conclusion that quirks will eventually go out of control!

This is the dark side of Second’s conflation of a person’s intent with the term “quirk” back in Chapter 369.  It’s a place where the translation of the word kosei as “quirk” obscures the sentence somewhat.  Recall that the word Horikoshi uses translates more literally as “personality.”  So, Second says that a strong intent is what makes a person fearsome, and this is why meta-abilities were given the name they were[4]: the power is merely a vessel, a weapon to be used to carry out the intent in question, a characterful, personalized expression of one’s inner will.  In other words, a “personality.”

But the inverse also becomes true.  If a quirk, a “personality,” is reflective of one’s will, then to suppress one’s quirks is to suppress one’s will.  To condemn someone’s quirk becomes the same as condemning them.  To label a quirk deviant is to label the person’s will deviant.  And if a quirk grows too strong to control, then the will-as-embodied-by-the-quirk also goes out of control.  Hence, Toga snaps after too many years of suppression.

So how does that problem get addressed?  The MLA, of course, wanted free quirk use, because Destro foresaw a time when quirks would grow too powerful for suppression to be effective.  Even radical self-acceptance and an even more radical restructuring of society are still just kicking that problem down the road, though, assuming they’d be effective at all—not that it looks like Hero Society is on the cusp of embracing that particular point of the MLA’s ideology regardless!  Indeed, as Team Hero still regards the problem of quirks increasing in strength as “fringe thinking reserved for cults,” they don’t seem to have any intention at all of addressing the problem.  Time will tell if the story itself will do so.

O It’s striking that even after some years of emotional abuse, Toga was still barefacedly begging her parents to please explain to her what made her so different from everyone else.  It’s a telling parallel to her willingness to actively seek out Ochaco and Deku to ask their opinion on things, and makes it not terribly surprising that she reacts so negatively to being rebuffed by them.  Her whole question in the wake of Jin’s death was whether heroes viewed villains as human—when heroes go on to reject her, like her parents did, of course she’d assume that it means those heroes also view her as inhuman.

   

Stray Notes

O ‘Eeeeeey, people picked up on the Death part of the Parade name this time!  I notice it hasn’t been corrected in the online version of 375, though; I wonder if the volume release will fix it?

O One thing I wasn’t clear on from the leaks/scanlation—the former of which are too fuzzy, the latter too murky—but am very happy to see here is that the Himijin Horde is definitely visible on the horizon for Hawks.  You can tell from the difference in the shading: fuzzy, gray, irregularly sized trees on the right and left, but a long black line of much more regular height in the center:

They’re heading for the Todorokis and Iida, too, of course, but Hawks is obviously the confrontation I’m most interested in.  (Read: GET ‘IM.  GEEEET ‘IM.)  Very much hope we get to see that before Uraraka completely defuses this whole situation.

O Love the acknowledgement from both Ochaco and Tsuyu that Ochaco’s efforts here are late, and that’s worth an apology, worth Toga being upset about.  I’m thrilled that the story is finally, explicitly folding villains into that idea expressed by Nedzu that it’s difficult but necessary for someone to be the first one to hold out a hand if society is to meaningfully advance.  I extra love that Ochaco is holding out that hand while also taking a huge risk: offering her thoughts on why Toga’s having problems with making quirk-use-capable clones.

As I said about Chapter 382, Toga resolving that issue would be incredibly dangerous for Team Hero, and I love that Uraraka is still—despite being very aware of that danger—willing to try to help Toga with it.  With no guarantee of reciprocity, with everything at stake, Uraraka still takes the time to carry on that conversation because it’s what her heart tells her is the right thing to do.

After all, if she can resolve Toga’s issue, that stands to win her back at least a degree of Toga’s faith, at which point a Toga-made clone of Shigaraki obliterating this whole stretch of countryside would no longer be what Toga wants.[5] More than the strategic considerations, though, it's plainly apparent that Toga struggling with Jin's quirk is causing her great anguish, and that's really what Uraraka wants to soothe.

Taking the talk-no-jutsu gamble is how Shinsou should have handled Machia; it’s how Deku should have been handling Shigaraki instead of drowning him in his Fist Ocean.  I praised Mirio for making at least a game attempt at it, and Shouto took a crack at it before slipping back into castigation; if Spinner had been coherent enough to hold an actual conversation with Shouji, we might have gotten it there.  This conflict, though, is where I expect the tactic to finally work, as Toga has both the emotional investment in Uraraka[6] and the presence of mind/free agency to actually respond.  I can’t wait to see how it goes!

O Toga’s spitting-mad injunction that Uraraka not dare to pity her based on societal standards that never made room for Toga to begin with is an excellent echo of Jin's indignance that Hawks would dare to say Jin led an “unlucky” life, as well as Toga’s own fury at Curious for trying to paint her as miserable.

----------------- FOOTNOTES -----------------

[1] So far as I can tell, there’s not an officially recognized difference between “being poor” and “living in poverty”—they’re just different parts of speech describing the same condition—though it seems many people feel instinctively that there’s a difference in severity there.  Still, I’ll stick with “poverty” in this case: while Uraraka’s family never seemed so destitute that they were worried about keeping a roof over their heads, we know that, as of the beginning of the manga, she was skipping meals to save money.  I doubt she would have been so blasé about going hungry that it could be used as grist for comedic volume extras if she didn’t have prior experience with it, and not having enough money to have regular meals is right there in what it means to live under the poverty line.

[2] Elsewhere in this same angle, Deku’s frank empathy for and validation of Gentle and his motivations is what made Gentle’s return feel so much more earned compared to Nagant’s, and Shouto scolding Dabi for involving innocent people proved ineffective.  Shouji, meanwhile, took a stab at validating the mob’s pain, but didn’t have a single word of sympathy for Spinner.

[3] You know, assuming she doesn’t turn out to have been secretly on AFO’s payroll or something.

[4] Setting aside Second’s rampant historical revisionism about the origin of the term, of course, because not a lick of what he says lines up with the actual story of the Mother of Quirks.

[5] Though, you know, the clone Shigaraki would probably still want it!

[6] Dabi’s emotionally invested in Shouto, but in an inverted way, not one that primes him to listen to anything Shouto has to say.

[drabbles-mc]

Mon Amie

Coco Cruz x F!Reader

Request by @elivanah-writes​: So I was thinking what if he met a girl one day or already knows her for some time but she's moved there maybe a few months ago and only speaks french and english. And she teaches him some words in french. And ends up singing a song for him. The song in the fic can be found Here

Warnings: language, alcohol, a split second of light angst, Coco being a cutie pie

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: So I did tweak the original request a little bit but I hope you still enjoy it! I know zero French so hopefully I did alright pulling this together. I kind of love these two together though I can’t lie. Hope you guys enjoy it!

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“Nah, I’m just saying,” he chuckled as he watched you pull things from your cabinets to start making dinner, “if you’re livin’ this close to the border, you should know some Spanish.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” you shake your head slightly as you bite back a smile, “I’m just saying that trying to learn Spanish immersively when I know none is a bit much.”

“I could teach you,” he watched for your reaction as he took a sip of his beer.

The offer made you turn to face him, “Oh? Could you?”

“What’s that look for, ma?” he laughed.

You shrug, giggling quietly, “Just didn’t know that you were a teacher as well as a biker.”

“There’s a lot you still gotta learn about me,” he paused, “But forreal. I can teach you if you want?”

“Coco, you really don’t have—”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to,” he lightly drummed his fingers on the countertop, “How ‘bout I’ll teach you Spanish if you teach me French? Deal?”

You laughed, twirling the spoon idly in your hands, “You wanna learn French?”

“Why you gotta look so shocked at everything I say?” he flashed you a quick smile.

“Well, like you said,” you smiled, biting lightly at your bottom lip, “I’ve got a lot to learn.”

You’d spent a lot of time with Coco ever since you found yourself in Santo Padre. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what drew the two of you to each other in the first place, but you became fast friends. The first time you’d invited him over to your place for dinner you could see a million different thoughts flash across his face and you couldn’t deny that being flustered looked cute on him. You reassured him that it was just a friendly invite—no pressure whatsoever. And somehow that turned into him coming over on a somewhat regular basis. There was a sense of security for you in the friendship that the two of you had been building.

Once he agreed to start teaching you, though, you felt like the two of you saw each other practically every day, even if he just stopped in quickly on his way home. He was teaching you the basics, the practical things that you needed to know. And in return you taught him the same things in French. Both of you got a kick out of the other trying to master the emphasis and accents of the other language. Every now and then you’d write words down in French for him just to watch him get blown away by how something spelled out one way, was said completely different.

“Ah, mon amie, don’t give up on me now,” you laughed as you looked over the list of words that you had been “studying”, although that was a bit of a strong word for it, “I’ll get this, I promise.”

He laughed, “I know you will,” he paused and you could feel his eyes on you as you read the paper, “What’s that mean again?”

“Hm?” you looked up at him.

“What’s that mean? Mon amie?”

A soft smile took over your features, “My friend.”

He didn’t say anything, simply nodded in acknowledgment. But despite his silence you could see it on his face that there was a certain kind of comfort in the title. Of course the two of you were friends, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that knowing it and hearing you say it were two completely different things.

“Alright,” he snapped back to the real task at hand, “you remember how to ask where the grocery store is? That’s a good one to know.”

“Yes!” you paused, picturing the flashcards you made for yourself in your mind, “Dónde está,” you pressed your lips together, hesitating on whether or not you were thinking of the right word, “el supermercado?”

He smiled, nodding, “You got it. Basically, if you got dónde está, that’s like ninety percent of all those questions. So you’ll be good.”

“How often do you think I’ll be getting lost?” you chuckled as you got up from the table to grab a couple drinks for each of you.

When he didn’t have an immediate response, you looked back over your shoulder at him and you could see that he was trying to think of the right word. You paused, placing your hands on your hips as you waited to see what he was going to say.

“Souvent,” he finally got the word out.

You laughed, placing your hand on your chest to feign offense at his statement, “Really? You don’t think I have a good sense of direction?”

“You text me at least twice a week asking where shit is in town, ma. And the town ain’t even that big,” he chuckled.

You shook your head as you pulled two beers out of the fridge, “First of all, rude,” you laughed, “Second of all, I’m glad the French lessons are sticking when you really need them,” you mumbled and continued shaking your head as you popped the tops off the beer bottles, “Often. This guy…”

“C’mon,” he chuckled as he got up and walked over to you, “don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” you laughed, handing one bottle over to him, “I’m just…” you racked your brain for the right word in Spanish, “decepcionada,” you laughed as you said it, letting him know that it wasn’t true.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be able to talk shit to me in Spanish soon enough.”

“I can’t wait,” you smiled.

There were a few beats of silence and just as you were about to ask if he wanted to stay for dinner his phone went off. He reached into his kutte and pulled it out, and you could tell from the shift in expression on his face that he was about to have to take off out the door. You tried not to feel too disappointed about it, because you knew that you were just a very small piece of the larger picture of his life.

He held the phone up to his ear, “Yo. Yea, yea, alright. I’ll be there in a few.” The conversation was over as quickly as it started. When he looked over at you, you could’ve sworn that you could see it in his eyes that he didn’t really want to go, or maybe you were just projecting, “I gotta run.”

“I figured,” you took a sip of your beer, “I’ll talk to you later?”

He nodded, “Yea, ‘course,” he stepped in and hugged you, and before he could stop himself he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek, “Bonne nuit.”

You smiled, a soft giggle slipping past your lips as you listened to the way his accent wrapped around the French words, “Buenas noches, Coco.”

“See?” he flashed you one last smile before taking off out the door, “You’re gettin’ it.”

Once the door shut behind him, you let out a small sigh. Your bottle hung limply from one hand as your other came up and lightly caressed over the spot where Coco’s lips had just been. Perhaps friend wasn’t quite strong enough of a word anymore.

You didn’t see him for a few days after that. It wasn’t the strangest thing in the world, really. You knew very little about what the club was involved in but you knew that it was time-consuming if nothing else. But Coco popping in had somewhat become a bit of a routine and it was weird to go a few nights in a row with no sign of him. He’d responded to your texts asking if he was at least alive and safe somewhere, and the sarcasm in his response let you know that he was definitely fine, just busy.

You were sipping on your glass of wine as you watched your pie baking in the oven. Baking late at night when you weren’t ready to fall asleep was something you’d done ever since you started living on your own and realized that no one was around to stop you. It was usually an activity coupled with a large glass of wine and mellow music—just a nice way to relax when it was late.

Over the sounds of the music you could hear someone knock at your door. You knew that there was really only one person it could be. You turned the music down slightly before walking over to the door. When you opened it, you saw Coco on the other side—he was safe and in one piece, but you could see the exhaustion on his face.

“Hey, you alright?” you motioned for him to come in.

“I know it’s late. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, not wanting him to feel bad, “I was up anyway.”

He glanced over your shoulder into the kitchen, “You cookin’ at 11PM?” a tired smile crossed his features.

You laughed, “You don’t get to come over this late and then judge my late-night activities.”

It got him to laugh, “I ain’t judging you. I just figured you’d be, I dunno, fuckin’ asleep or something.”

“And yet you’re still here,” you studied his face for a moment, “You sure you’re okay?”

He shrugged, “Just been a long few days. Needed uh, un ami.”

You smiled, taking his hand and tugging him towards the kitchen, “You came to the right place.”

Trying not to get too distracted by how much you loved the way his rough, calloused palm felt pressed against yours, you motioned for him to sit down at the counter. You grabbed another stemless wine glass from the cupboard and poured him a glass. You could see the dubious look on his face and couldn’t help but to laugh.

“Trust me. Wine after a bad day just…hits a little different than a beer. Plus,” you nodded towards the oven, “it’ll taste good with the pie.”

“You’re bakin’ a fuckin’ pie at midnight?”

“Eleven,” you corrected with a smile.

The two of you existed in comfortable silence while you waited for the oven timer to go off. As much as you wanted to ask about what had been going on, to pry about what seemed to have put him in a bit of a mood, you didn’t. Your home was a place away from all of that for him and you were more than content to keep it that way. As the minutes ticked by, you could see it in his face and body language that he was relaxing.

The timer went off, causing both of you to perk up a bit. You took another sip of your wine before setting the glass down and grabbing your oven mitts. You pulled the pie out of the oven and set it on the hot-plate that was on the counter. You smiled when you saw Coco’s eyes light up at the sight of it.

“Espere,” you waved the pie server at him, “It’s hot.”

He smiled for a moment at your recall of the word before asking, “How long we gotta wait?” he took a drink from his wine glass.

You chuckled, “Until I say it’s ready to eat.”

The only sound in the room was coming from your phone as it continued to softly play music from your playlist. You hummed along quietly as you started getting plates and forks out for the two of you. As you were gathering things together, you almost completely forgot that Coco was there and you started to sing quietly, more to yourself than to him.

When you turned around and saw the look on Coco’s face, you became very aware of what you had been doing. Heat rushed to your face and you stopped singing as you set a plate down in front of him.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you sing in any language,” he was smiling, eyes filled with awe.

You laughed nervously, “Singing is usually a Me Time activity.”

“What song’s that?” he nodded towards your phone.

“It’s called Je Vais T’Aimer,” you started cutting into the pie to avoid looking him in the eye.

“You can keep singing, if you want,” he ran the tip of his finger along the edge of his glass, “It can still be You Time.”

“Ask me about it again after I have a few more glasses of wine,” you replied with a smile as you served a piece of the pie onto his plate.

“What if,” he asked through a mouthful of pie, “I said that I’d learn better if I listened to you sing the words?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “I’d say that you’re full of it.”

The two of you sat on opposite sides of the counter and talked about anything that didn’t feel heavy or serious, and it felt good. You each had a few more glasses of wine as you chatted, fingers occasionally brushing against each other as you reached for the bottle. It was already the small hours of the morning before you finally decided to start rinsing off the dishes.

You both had been talking long enough for your playlist to completely loop back around again. You weren’t going to comment on it but you could see Coco’s eyes light up a bit when he heard the slightly familiar piano notes coming from your phone. Making a point to not look directly at him, you quietly began to sing as you started to clean the dishes you’d used while you were baking, the ones that you and Coco had just used to eat.

Coco materialized next to you by the sink, leaning back on the counter. He didn’t say anything as he listened to you sing, and watched you meticulously clean each dish and piece of silverware. You caught smile on his face from the corner of your eye, and it was soft, genuine. For a moment you thought about pressing your lips to it but you stopped yourself.

Even when the song ended, Coco didn’t stop watching you, “You got a good voice.”

You finally fully looked over at him, “I’m glad you think so,” there was a tinge of amusement in your voice.

“Nah, I’m serious,” he playfully nudged your shoulder, “I might not know all the words but I know what sounds good. Don’t gotta be fluent for that.”

You laughed, “I suppose not,” you shut the water off and dried your hands, moving so that you were standing in front of him. Taking a chance, with a little bit of liquid confidence at your back, you reached out and gently stroked your thumb along his cheek, “Feel better?”

He nodded, smiling as he rested his hand over yours, “Yea. Th-thank you. Or, y’know, merci.”

A quiet giggle slipped past your lips as you admired the way his hand continued to envelop yours, “You’re welcome.”

It was evident on his face that he had a thousand different thoughts going through his head at once. You let him get there on his own, saying whatever it was that he wanted to say, “I don’t, um, I don’t wanna fuck this up,” he motioned back and forth between you with his free hand, “but I really…I really wanna kiss you.”

Your heart pounded inside your chest, “Then…do it,” your voice was hardly a whisper.

His eyes widened—he didn’t have to be told twice. He gently tugged you towards him and pressed his lips to yours. You cupped his face in both hands as his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. For a minute there wasn’t a single coherent thought in your head as you melted against him. You wished you’d done it sooner.

When you finally pulled your lips off of his, there was a smile on his face and a softness in his expression that you hadn’t seen before. Your hands rested lightly on his shoulders as his fingers drummed against your hips.

You saw his expression shift to one of deep thought and you gave his shoulders a light squeeze, “You okay?”

He nodded, “Yea, yea. I’m good, I just, gimme a sec,” his brows furrowed in thought, “I know this one. Hold on…”

It then hit you that he was trying to remember how to say something. You lightly bit down on your bottom lip, toying with the ends of his hair while you waited for him to remember what he wanted to say.

When he recalled it, it instantly showed all over his face. His eyes met yours, and with calculated certainty he said, “Je t’aime.”

Your stomach erupted in butterflies as you pressed a quick, soft kiss to his lips, “Je t’amie,” you paused, unable to tone down the grin on your face, “That wasn’t one that I taught you.”

He chuckled, “Nah, yea. I, uh, I hit Google Translate for that one.”

You laughed, kissing his cheek, “You’re perfect.”

[seita]

— the lottery: redlove | eijirou kirishima (m.)

pairing: kirishima/reader

genre: fluff, smut, angst if u squint

wordcount: 𝟹,𝟶𝟺𝟸

cw: cam couple!au, pro hero!bakugou

tags: soft forehead kisses, lonely!bakugou, protective kiri, dom/sub dynamics, male masturbation, hair pulling, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, cunnilingus, pain kink, light degradation/name calling, creampie, cum eating, soft aftercare kisses & praise

note: part 2 to the loved redlove fic. i really hope u guys enjoy this!

— redlove, bakugou's favorite camcouple, hold a lottery to decide who gets a private show with them.

blog navigation.

⇦ prev. live now: redlove

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.  

Bakugou was obsessed; something he found shameful. Here he was, one of the top heroes in Japan — the Ground Zero, infatuated with a couple he only knows because he jerks off to them every night. 

He couldn’t imagine what people would think of him if they found out that he spent his nights with his first around his hard cock, imagining himself fucking the pretty cam couple. 

But when he got a notification one afternoon, his phone buzzing obnoxiously on the wood of his desk, he knew he was fucked. 

He had been lucky enough to discover the couple had a Twitter account and promptly followed from his private, personal account. Looking back, he was glad he had enough common sense to make sure he didn’t follow from his professional, hero account. 

That would have been hard to explain to the media. 

He unlocked his phone and opened the tweet, biting his lip as he pressed the like button.

“We are excited to announce that we’ll be holding a special lottery on our next stream. The winner gets a private show! Details will be explained.

— redlove <3.”

He was about to go see what they were talking about when there was a knock at the door. Bakugou jumped and locked his phone, slipping it into his pocket as he gruffly called for the person to enter. 

He talked to his sidekick as if he wasn’t half hard in his hero costume the entire time. 

The second he was back in his home, sitting comfortable in a soft t-shirt and some sweatpants, he took his phone out and finally took a look at who had been on his mind all day; the redlove lottery. 

He checked the time, seeing he still had a few hours to go before you would start your stream. So to kill time, he made himself dinner and decided to watch TV. 

Thankfully, it worked and before long he lost track of time. The only thing that reminded him was his phone buzzing. 

He yawned, picking it up only to choke when he saw “redlove is now live!” plastered across the banner.

He fumbled with the device, not giving a shit about how desperate he was — it wasn’t like anyone was there to judge him. He unlocked it and clicked the notification, waiting with bated breath as the app opened. 

The screen was black for a moment, the spinning circle in the middle showing that it was buffering. But after a minute, the screen was finally filled with your pretty face. 

You were perched at the edge of the bed, wearing an oversized t-shirt that slipped off of your shoulder with some faded writing he couldn’t quite make out. He couldn’t see any bra strap so he could assume your breasts were bare beneath. You were sitting on your knees, making it hard for him to figure out if you wore short, panties, or nothing. He hoped it was the latter.

“Where’s Ei?” you asked, reading the comments.

“He’s grabbing some things from the living room I think,” you shrug with a smile, “We’ll talk to you guys about the lottery before we get started though, don’t worry!”

“Ah did you start?” Eijirou’s voice was a bit muffled due to his distance from the microphone. 

You looked offscreen and smiled, “Yeah, didn’t wanna start too late. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

Your boyfriend hummed and climbed onto the bed, pressing a kiss against your temple, making you beam. Bakugou’s heart ached at the sight — it was almost sickening how cute and in love the two of you obviously were. The domesticity between the two of you was heart wrenching.

“So about the lottery!” you clapped your hands together and shifted to the side so Eijirou was on the screen fully. 

Bakugou’s mouth went dry at the sight. The redhead wasn’t wearing his usual spiked up hair, instead it was down, hanging in his eyes. He wore a pair of sweatpants and he was shirtless, as usual. The hero wondered if it was common for him to be shirtless even when you weren’t streaming. The redhead sat back on his palms legs crossed on the bed as he eyed the screen, reading comments as you spoke.

“So, as you may know the website recently implemented a private show function,” you explained, clearing your throat before continuing, “So Ei and I talked about it and came up with the idea to hold a lottery for it! Basically,” you paused to giggle, squirming in your seat. Bakugou smiled along with you, the sound of your laugh contagious as he watched the way Eijirou’s hand was obviously up the back of your shirt.

“Go on then,” your boyfriend teased, lips quirked up ever so slightly. 

You rolled your eyes and elbowed him, still smiling, “Anyway, we’re doing it on a donation basis. The more you donate, the higher chance you’ll get at being chosen!”

The playful look on your boyfriend's face vanished immediately. He leaned forward, closer to the screen, shaking his head. Bakugou’s eyes drifted to the comments on the stream to see a bunch of complaints; saying that wasn’t fair, how you were just using the viewers for money, even a handful of name calling. 

“Hey,” Eijirou barked, brows furrowed. The sight made Bakugou shiver and a quick glance at you, watching the way you thickly swallowed, watching your boyfriend, he could tell you had a similar reaction, “Don’t forget this is our job. Of course we’re going to do the most we can to make money.”

Bakugou watched as the redhead began to click around on the computer. Glancing down at the comment section, he saw that a few accounts were now banned “account name has been banned” placed where their comments once stood.

“Don’t insult _____,” Eijirou grumbled, sitting back in his seat, “Remember, getting to see her pretty little body is a privilege that can be revoked at any time. I’m the only one who can call her names,” his voice lost a bit of its seriousness at that last statement, giving way to his usual playfulness. But Bakugou could tell he was still a bit ticked, his body was tense. The blonde let out a soft, almost dreamy sigh; Eijirou was a man in protection mode.

You chuckled, nudging your boyfriend before turning your smile back to the camera, “As I was saying...it doesn’t mean if you have to donate 100,000 to get a chance. You never know how your luck may play out! Either way, we look forward to this. We’ll be taking donations for this stream as your lottery entry!”

Bakugou’s heart leapt out in his chest. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d donated to the two of you. He could still remember the first time he’d heard you say his name. He’d made a donation at the start of the stream and you’d beamed, muttering out a cute “thank you, katsuki!”

The way he felt himself swoon was almost embarrassing. No, it was embarrassing. 

How was he whipped over a girl he’d only ever watched fuck her boyfriend through a screen?

He sighed, pressing the donate button, going through the automatic payment process with a few clicks on the screen to verify his identity. 

In the background, he could see the two of you have met in a deep kiss. His hand cradling the back of your head, slowly fisting your hair until he wrenches your head back to begin mouthing at your throat. 

The whimper you release encourages Bakugou to speed up before closing the window, his donation of $120 successful. 

He relaxes back against the couch, pushing his hand up his shirt to thumb his nipples. He could feel his cock beginning to grow hard in his sweats, making him grind mindlessly in his seat against nothing. 

You were on your back, shirt pushed up over your breasts as your boyfriend cupped your breasts. Bakugou sighed at the sight of your pretty tits, taking note of the cute, white panties you wore that were adorned with cute pink strawberries. The material was a bit sheer from what he could see from how wet you were getting. The mixture of the lewdness of your pussy no doubt clenching and dripping against the fabric that oozed innocence and softness made his cock throb. 

Fuck, you were so sweet and cute. 

For a long moment, Bakugou felt envy burning in his veins as he watched your boyfriend worship your body. He tongue your nipples, sucking until they popped out of his mouth before descending down your body, leaving kisses along your ribs, stomach and hip bones. He finally settled on his stomach between your thighs, running his fingers along your folds through the thin material.

“Aw, you’re this wet from some kissing?” Eijirou teases, leaning down to kiss your clothed pussy, “You’re my sweet little girl, aren’t you?”

“Ei…” you whispered, shifting beneath him in anticipation, biting your lip as you reached down to thread your fingers through his hair, “Love you…”

The redhead grinned, kissing your inner thigh so softly it made Bakugou’s heart flutter before whispering, “I know you do, pretty girl.”

He slipped your panties to the side, moaning at the sight of your flushed, wet cunt. Pushing your thighs apart, he used his thumbs to spread you open. 

Bakugou slipped his hand beneath the band of his sweats, palming his bare cock that was throbbing under his own touch. He watched intently, not even blinking as he watched the way your boyfriend ate your cunt like he was his last meal. 

He worshiped you, kissing your folds, tonguing your clenching hole, before wrapping his lips around your hard clit. Your thighs trembled and jumped, threatening to close as your boyfriend pulled back the hood of your clit, exposing the extra sensitive nerves to his tongue’s abuse. You squirmed, yanking at his hair, wanting to simultaneously push him away and pull him closer. 

He made the decision for you by pulling away. Your hand lost its grip on his hair and flopped back down to the bed. His touch wasn’t gone for long before he was pulling your panties down your legs. 

“Shit,” Bakugou whimpered as he caught sight of the strings of your slick clinging to your panties before sticking to your thighs. 

Your boyfriend seemed to have noticed the same thing, running his fingers along your soaked cunt, gathering your juices on his fingers before showing the camera, pulling his fingers apart to show the audience how wet you were. 

Bakugou gripped the base of his cock, feeling hot and almost painful in his hand. 

“Gotta fill that little pussy, princess,” Eijirou breathed, finally stripping himself of his sweatpants. 

The Pro-Hero squeezed his cock at the sight. You were a lucky girl that he was damn sure of. 

Ei’s cock was as long as it was thick, veins running along the shaft with a pretty, pink tip that always seemed to be drooling precum. The sight of his hand wrapped around his own length made Bakugou lick his lips — long, lithe fingers with veins running on the tops of his hands before reappearing over his forearms. 

There was no doubt in the blonde’s mind that the two of you were a beautiful, perfect couple. 

You were so pretty with a brilliant smile and contagious laugh. But when you had your legs spread for your boyfriend, you were a cute, submissive little kitten who was never too proud to beg for praise. 

Eijirou was a pillar, strong-willed and protective — really, a perfect Dom. The second he had you on your back, however, he turned almost mean. He took advantage of your submissiveness to use you like a cocksleeve, praising you for being a good girl while telling you it was pathetic how easily you came just from putting his cock inside you. 

But afterwards, he would let you cling to him, press kisses to your lips and temple and caress your skin until the screen went black and Bakugou was reminded that he was alone. While the two of you were no doubt thriving in each other's embrace. 

It was those moments that reminded the hero how alone he was. 

He was ripped from his thoughts when you let out a squeal of pleasure. Focusing his gaze back on his phone screen properly once more, he gave his cock a few strokes to the sight. 

You were laid on your side, one leg lifted and pinned towards your chest while you clung to a nearby pillow as your boyfriends fat cock stretched you open. 

“A-Ah!” you cried, biting on the pillow. 

Eijirou soothed his hand along the thigh he was holding, pressing a kiss to your knee, “Does it hurt, sweetheart?”

“Mhm…” you whined, making Bakugou realize you hadn’t been stretched before taking his length. 

“Ah but…” the redhead grunted, sinking more of his cock into your dripping cunt, “You like it when it hurts, isn’t that right?”

“Yes!” you immediately gasped, eyes fluttering closed as he finally bottomed out.

“I know you do, my pretty pain slut,” Ei whispered, pulling out before quickly sinking back inside of you with an swift roll of his hips. 

How easily he set a rhythm reminded Bakugou how much he knew your body. He got to fuck you on and off camera. Envy reared its ugly head once more, burning hot in his veins as he slowly stroked his cock to the sight of you getting stuffed full by your perfect boyfriend’s cock.

He felt pathetic. He felt envious. He felt...lonely. 

His heart began to feel heavy but his cock remained hot and throbbing in his fist. Mindlessly, he surged his hips forward to fuck into his own fist, as if he wasn’t giving himself enough pleasure. His other hand dipped beneath the band of his sweats to cup his heavy balls. 

On the screen, you were rolled back over, your knees locked around his hips as he fucked you. He panted, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, meeting your gaze with a serene smile. 

The sight was so soft, so sweet. You leaned up and pressed your lips against his, nipping at his lip before pulling away to moan as he hit your g-spot. 

“Atta girl,” Ei whispered, letting you angle your hips up so he would continue to hit it, “Such a good girl, make me hit that spot. You wanna cum? Want me to make you cum?”

You nodded, mouth agape as you whined, “Yes, please!”

“So polite,” Ei grinned, but made no move to help you get off, “Tell me why you deserve to cum.”

“Ei…” you sob, clearly not pleased with his teasing.

“C’mon,” your boyfriend taunted, “I won’t know why I should let you cum unless you tell me. You know I’ll leave you high and fuckin’ dry, don’t test me, babygirl.”

At the sound of his once soft, sweet voice turning dark and demanding, you whimpered and began to babble out anything that came to mind, “I-I’ve been good! ‘M your good girl, Ei. Please, I’ll do anything...please let me cum. Make me cum, only you can make me cum good!”

“Such pretty words…” Ei groaned, licking the pad of his thumb before quickly pressing it against your clit. You keen immediately, the arch of your back pushing your breasts out provocatively as you clung to the pillow beneath your head, “Go ahead. You wanted to cum so fuckin’ bad. Cum on my cock, make a mess for me. Wanna see you cream on my cock like the good girl you are.”

His filthy words sent you over the edge and you came with a cry. Through your high, you babbled praises to your boyfriend; ‘you feel so good’, ‘you make me cum so hard’, ‘please don’t stop’, ‘please cum inside’.

Your boyfriend fell victim to your pleas, giving a few more valiant thrusts into your cunt, forcing you to ride it out completely as he poured his hot cum inside. 

Bakugou’s eyes rolled back, he quickly pulled his cock out of his sweats. He cupped his balls, rolling and squeezing them as he felt the tighten up with his impending orgasm. His cock throbbed violently, spitting cum across his chest, landing up to his cheeks. He opened his mouth without a second thought, making sure to stick his tongue out, only catching two jets of his cum on his tongue before it tapers off, drooling pathetically down his length.he swallowed the salty taste of his own load down with a whimper before slowing the strokes on his cock as he softened. 

On screen, Ei slowed down, avoiding overstimulating the both of you before he fell over top of you with his hands on both sides of your head. He leaned down, meeting your lips in a happy kiss mixed with smiles. 

“Did so good for me, pretty girl,” he whispered, pecking your nose before kissing your forehead, “Love you so much, you know that?”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He sat up, his arm around your waist as he shifted to look back at the camera. He cradled you in his lap, cupping the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“We’ll be doing the drawing for the lottery next week when all the donations you made will officially have gone through,” Ei explained, smiling as you buried your face in his neck, still floating through the pleasurable headspace, “Thanks for watching everyone!”

He leaned forward, jostling you slightly, making you whine. The last thing Bakugou heard was a soft, “sorry, babygirl” before the camera turned off and the stream ended. 

The hero sat by himself, hand covered in drying cum that was on his stomach and shirt as well. As usually, the impending loneliness he felt compounded with the shame of having cum so hard from watching redlove made his heart ache. 

Swallowing thickly, a thought occurred to him. 

He had no idea how he would survive if he won that lottery. 

Oh well, the odds of that happening were low.

Right?

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

Timeline: Batman

google doc / ao3

This is my best attempt at a post-crisis timeline based on age-- specifically Bruce’s age every time he adopted and/or met one of his children. 

List of events:

Bruce’s parents die

Bruce becomes Batman

Dick’s parents die

Dick becomes Robin

Jason becomes Robin and is adopted

Jason dies

Tim becomes Robin

Cass appears

Dick is adopted

Tim is adopted

Cass is adopted

Damian becomes Robin

I’ll be citing my work by issue and panel. This isn’t my most organized work, and I don’t know how well tumblr will let me translate it, so I do recommend the google doc. I imagine the image quality here won’t be great. 

Notes:

This is a post-crisis timeline (1986-2011). I’ll be referencing a few pre-crisis panels, but I won’t be touching the New 52 or anything after it. That’s a different game of ball with its own, extremely bad, timeline.

Crisis on Infinite Earths is a 1985-1986 series that rebooted the DC timeline and altered some backstories, including Jason’s. Pre-crisis, his backstory was almost identical to Dick’s. Post-crisis, he changed to the “steal the wheels off the Batmobile” origin. Anything written before 1986 is a weak source for my purposes. 

My original question centered around Bruce’s age through the process of meeting and acquiring his children. In this timeline, those children are (1) Dick Grayson, (2) Jason Todd, (3) Cassandra Cain, (4) Tim Drake, and (5) Damian Wayne. I was envisioning an interview where the kids explain their family timeline to outsiders. I did not anticipate the project taking this long. 

We’re talking about 72 years of content here, which means decades of contradiction, conflation, and rewrites. I’m pretty satisfied with my work product, but please understand that there are no perfect answers. I’m going to cite my sources, and I’ll do my best to explain why I chose those sources specifically, but it’s pretty likely that for every panel I pull, there will be others with different numbers. We’re all going to have to live with that. 

Event timeline

*I’m defining Jason’s age by the time elapsed since his birth, but you could make an argument for using time he has been alive, which is, of course, different. That’s why the parentheses are there. 

Age differences

As Robin

----------

Bruce’s parents die

Pretty consistently, Bruce is written as eight years old the night his parents died. 

Detective Comics #0 (1994)

This is a zero issue where Bruce thinks back on his origin story. It was written long after Crisis on Infinite Earths (1986), and I tend to give a lot of weight to ages written in summaries of past plot lines, my reasoning being that it’s easier to be consistent in one issue than it is to be consistent through a month to month story. 

Bruce first appeared as an adult in Detective Comics #27 (1939), and the Waynes were already dead at that point, so flashbacks are the only available material anyway. 

Gotham Knights #6 (2000)

The text is Hugo Strange talking about Bruce, and the image is Tim and Dick playing at Wayne Enterprises. 

I’ll take a second here to note that I did find at least one alternate age for Bruce— in Superman/Batman Secret Files & Origins (2003), Bruce was 10 when his parents died. I’m disregarding that in favor of the stronger 8 year old timeline, especially in light of Batman #404 (1987).

Batman #404 is the beginning of Batman: Year One, which was explicitly written to clarify the Batman timeline post-crisis, and it’s the basis of most of my calculations for Bruce and Dick’s ages.

----------

Bruce becomes Batman

According to Year One, Bruce was 26 years old when he became Batman. I’m using his age at his parents’ deaths, his age when he returned to Gotham, and his 18 year timeline.

Batman #404 puts Bruce at age 25 when he returned to Gotham in January. 

Batman #404 (1987)

Bruce gives his dramatic, “Yes, Father, I will become a bat,” line in March. In the same scene, he says that it has been 18 years since his parents’ deaths. Knowing that they died when Bruce was eight, that puts Bruce at 26 years old the day he became Batman, which makes sense considering Bruce’s birthday is usually set at February 19th. 

He was 25 in January, turned 26 in February, and became Batman at 26, 18 years after his parents’ death. 

Batman #404 (1987)

Post-crisis, DC built timelines off the “Year” model. Year One is Batman’s beginning, and events after that are measured by how far away they are from the year Bruce became Batman. I’ll be using the Year model for Dick’s life events next. 

----------

Dick’s parents die

The Graysons died in Year Two. Using the Year Model, Dick was 12 when his parents died, and Bruce was 37. 

Year timelines appear a fair amount, especially in issues titled “Secret Files & Origins.” I pulled this bit from Batman Secret Files & Origins (1997) because it was the easiest to screenshot. 

Batman Secret Files & Origins (1997)

Year Two would place Bruce at 27 years old. I’m calculating Dick’s age backwards, based on him being 13 years old during Year Three. 

Batman Secret Files & Origins (1997) 

----------

Dick becomes Robin

Dick became Robin in Year Three, when he was 13 years old and Bruce was 28. I’m using two different issues to calculate the number. 

Batman #441 (1989)

Batman #441 is from Tim’s introduction story. It takes place “months” after Jason’s death. We’ll get to that part. In Batman #441, Tim asked Dick to be Robin again in order to help Bruce, who was visibly unstable after Jason’s death. Dick says that he can’t go back to being Robin, just like he can’t go back to being 13 years old. The strong implication there is that Dick became Robin at 13, which corresponds to Dick’s statements in Batman #416 (1988). 

In Batman #416, Dick as Nightwing returns to confront Bruce about Jason becoming Robin. He says that he was Robin for six years, and he stopped being Robin at 19.

Batman #416 (1988)

If Dick stopped being Robin at 19, after 6 years, that would put him at 13 when he debuted as Robin, the same number from Batman #441 (1989).

Dick was 13 during Year Three, so 12 during Year Two, the year his parents died. Those numbers answer the first bit of my original question. I wanted to know how old Dick and Bruce were when Dick became his child. It’s a bit more of a complicated question for Dick, since he was originally Bruce’s ward, then adopted as an adult. 

Based on the timeline so far, Dick became Bruce’s ward at 12 years old, while Bruce was 27.  

----------

Jason becomes Robin and is adopted

As previously discussed (see Notes), Jason’s timeline is complicated by Crisis on Infinite Earths (1985-1986). Pre-crisis, Jason first appeared in Batman #336 (1983) as a former circus acrobat very similar to Dick.

Jason’s origin story reboots at Batman #408 (1987), which describes the switch-off between Dick and Jason. I’m building a lot of my timeline off of that issue. At the beginning, Dick gets shot by the Joker, and as Bruce carries him away, the media ask if Robin is dead. Dick isn’t dead, but back at the manor, Bruce decides to retire Robin as a role, based on the idea that crimefighting is too dangerous for a child. 

Batman #408 (1987)

This version is more or less from Bruce’s point of view, but there’s a contrasting version from Dick’s point of view later, in Batman #416 (1987). That one has a significantly different tone, and I already cited it once (page 13) because Dick talks about his age and the amount of time he was Robin.  

Batman #408 (1987)

The second part of the issue takes place “weeks” later. Bruce goes to Crime Alley to mourn his parents on the anniversary of their death. He comes back to find that somebody stole the wheels off the Batmobile. The somebody was Jason, and by the end of Batman #409 (1987), Bruce is calling Jason “Robin.”

Batman #408 (1987) seems to divide Dick’s departure and Jason’s introduction by only “weeks,” in the post-crisis reboot. Dick’s version of the story in Batman #416 (1987) is much less charitable to Bruce— instead of ending on a panel of Bruce smiling, it shows the aftermath of Dick in tears as Bruce walks away. Dick goes on to describe leaving the house, going to college for a semester, then dropping out. According to Dick, Bruce didn’t even say goodbye. 

Batman #416 (1987)

I don’t think the stories are contradictory; they’re just different experiences of the same events, separated by only eight issues. Dick tells us that he was 19 when he left Wayne Manor, and Bruce chooses his new Robin “weeks” later. 

As a summary, we know that Bruce’s parents died when he was eight, and that 18 years passed before he became Batman at 26. One year later, Dick’s parents died while Bruce was 27. One year after that, Dick became Robin at the age of 13. From those facts, Bruce is 15 years older than Dick. 

All of my calculations of Bruce’s age are based off of the age gap between him and Dick. Dick was 19 when Jason became Robin, so we know that at that time, Bruce was 34. We also know that at that time, Jason was 12. 

I can’t show a source for that number because it appears on the letter page of Batman #408 (1987), Jason’s introduction.

Even after a significant amount of investigation, I can’t find a copy of the letter page, but it’s cited by enough secondary sources for me to be comfortable using it. That issue is specifically written to show Jason’s origin, so it makes sense that it would contain Jason’s age at inception, even if the number wasn’t in the actual exposition. 

From Jason being 12, we can establish a seven-year age gap between Jason and Dick, who was 19 at the time. Now we know Bruce, Dick, and Jason’s ages, and the age differences between them.

Back to my original question— when did Bruce acquire Jason? We know that Bruce was 34 when Jason became his ward, and Jason was 12. The next question, however, is when did Bruce adopt Jason? On this one, I’m making an educated guess. 

Again we have to differentiate between pre-crisis and post-crisis timelines. Pre-crisis, there’s a full storyline about the fact that Bruce did not adopt Jason, although not for lack of trying. In Batman #374 (1984), the Child Welfare Bureau investigates Bruce when it notices that Bruce has not adopted Jason— and is not even, in fact, his legal guardian. 

Batman #374 (1984)

The rest of the storyline is about Jason’s custody. A villain named Natalia Knight (Nocturna) adopts Jason in an attempt to get Bruce to marry her in order to become Jason’s father. In the court scene in Batman #377 (1984), Bruce says that he filed to adopt Jason sometime beforehand, although it’s unclear to me whether he means he filed between those issues or the CWB documents were incomplete.

Natalia does adopt Jason in Batman #378 (1984), and he briefly lives with her before returning to Wayne Manor in Batman #381 (1985), directly before the reboot. 

I’m including all of that for two reasons: first, I do think it’s important to clarify both this version and the post-crisis version I’m about to address. Second, I spent years under the impression that Bruce adopted Jason pre-crisis because of one, well-known scene. 

Batman #377 (1984)

Batman #378 (1984)

Batman #381 (1985)

Donna Troy gets married in Tales of the Teen Titans #50 (1985). At the wedding, Bruce and Dick have a conversation about Jason and about their own relationship. A few of those panels get spread around because they contain what I would consider a defining moment between Dick and Bruce. 

I’m certainly not complaining about the amount of times I’ve seen the wedding conversation, but I think that, in regards to Jason, seeing just those panels has created a misconception.

Tales of the Teen Titans #50 (1985)

Without context, it looks, at least to me, like Dick is saying that Bruce has adopted Jason pre-crisis, which isn’t true. This issue takes place between the Natalia adoption in Batman #378 (1984) and Jason’s return to the manor in Batman #381 (1985), and the panels directly before the exchange make that clear. I just didn’t see those panels until I looked through the whole issue for this project. 

I’m reasonably certain that in the past, I publicly cited this issue as evidence of Jason’s adoption, and I was wrong about that. [Note: As it turns out, I was only partially wrong. See section Correction.]

Tales of the Teen Titans #50 (1985)

As we see, the wedding conversation is in the context of the Natalia adoption. With that cleared up, and with the pre-crisis timeline filled out, let’s move to post-crisis. 

In my brief read-through of Batman #404-427 (1987-1988), I didn’t find any direct references to Jason’s status. Those issues begin at the reboot and end at Jason’s death. However, Dick and Jason’s statements after the fact do tell us that post-crisis, Bruce did adopt Jason. 

In Batman #436 (1989), Dick returns to the manor in the direct aftermath of Jason’s death, and while he is there, he sees that Bruce removed any trace of Jason from the house. There aren’t any trophies in the Batcave, and there aren’t any pictures of Jason on the nightstand displaying Bruce’s family photos. 

Dick says that Jason was Bruce’s son.

Batman #436 (1989)

I think it’s fair to ask whether Dick is being literal here, because even if Bruce hadn’t legally adopted Jason, it would still be more than appropriate to call them father and son. I’m not going to place my opinion solely on this kind of statement, even if it does appear pretty regularly from 1988 to the end of the timeline.

Green Arrow/Black Canary #4 (2007)

We get a more definite answer later, during Tim’s first appearance. In Tim’s origin story, he deduces Batman and Robin’s secret identities after he sees footage of Robin doing a type of flip that only the Flying Graysons could do. Tim was at the circus the night Dick’s parents died, so he saw Dick do the flip there, then saw Dick become an orphan. 

Because Tim knew that Dick was the first Robin, he correctly identified Bruce as Batman and Jason as the second Robin. He tells Dick all of this in Batman #441 (1989).

Batman #441 (1989)

Tim does specifically use the word “adopts” here, and that’s good enough for me. The last part is guesswork— I don’t know for certain how old Jason and Bruce were when the adoption took place, but I’m electing to say Jason was 12, the same age as he was when he became Robin. 

I picked that number both out of convenience and because Tim seems to be putting Jason’s adoption and the second Robin’s appearance at around the same time. With that in mind, I think that Jason was 12 years old both when he became Robin and when Bruce adopted him. Using the age gap we already established, that would put Bruce at age 34. 

Circling back to my original question, Dick became Bruce’s ward when Dick was 12 and Bruce was 27. Jason became Bruce’s ward, then adoptive son when Jason was 12 and Bruce was 34. 

At this point in the timeline, Bruce is 34 with one former ward and one adopted son. 

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Correction 

A few days after I wrote my section about Jason’s appearance and adoption, I realized that I was missing a panel citation in my discussion of Jason’s death. The panel is from New Titan #55 (1989), and you’ll see me cite it when I talk about Jason’s death certificate. 

New Titans #55 (1989) is the issue where Dick, who is with the Teen Titans,  finds out about Jason’s death. While I was combing through the issue for the panels I wanted, I reread a scene I had completely forgotten about. Dick goes back to the manor to speak to Bruce, and it doesn’t go well.

New Titans #55 (1989)

I have three comments here. First, I do think this scene is inconsistent with the simultaneous story in the Batman title. In this version, Dick and Bruce have a very aggressive confrontation, but in Batman #436 (1989), Dick appears to be returning to the manor for the first time since Jason died, and there isn’t any reference to a prior fight. 

Putting that aside, Bruce does explicitly say that he adopted Jason, and that’s more, stronger verification of a post-crisis adoption. Lastly, it’s pretty clear that Bruce and Dick are talking about the wedding scene. 

I already explained that the wedding scene is pre-crisis, and in the original text, that conversation is about Bruce wanting to, but not being able to, adopt Jason. New Titans #55 (1989) carries the wedding scene into post-crisis canon, changing the language in the process. In this version, Bruce has adopted Jason. 

I was still wrong about the wedding scene because in the past, I used it as evidence of a pre-crisis adoption. It isn’t pre-crisis evidence, but it is, in a roundabout way, evidence of the post-crisis adoption. I wanted to clear that up before I move on to Jason’s death. 

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Jason dies

Jason’s death is by far the shakiest point on my timeline, but I’ve chosen to put him at 15 the day he died in Batman #427 (1988). 

I think it’s safe to say that Jason was either 14 or 15 when he died, and my basic conclusion is that running numbers doesn’t give me a definite answer. There’s a cop-out option based on an extraordinarily poor source, and I’m taking the cop-out. 

The general consensus seems to be that Jason was 15 at his death, citation to Jason’s death certificate. Jason’s death certificate appears in two different places, and I think most folks conflate the two. 

To my knowledge, the only copy of Jason’s death certificate in full appears in The Batman Files (2011), where it does list Jason’s age as 15. 

The Batman Files (2011)

Now there is a partial copy in Batman Annual #25 (2006), which I would argue is a very reliable reference when it comes to Jason. That issue is part of the Under the Red Hood story, the one where Jason returns to Gotham for the first time after his resurrection. In fact, the specific annual issue has a timeline for Jason’s events counting forward from his death. 

Here’s the problem: the issue doesn’t say his age at death. The partial copy of his death certificate looks like this. 

Batman Annual #25 (2006) 

I think that when most folks remember a death certificate, they think of this one, the one from a very important issue, instead of The Batman Files (2011) which, as noted, is a very bad source. 

I have three issues with The Batman Files (2011): the format, the publishing date, and the other information on the certificate. First, The Batman Files (2011) isn’t a comic book at all. It’s a commemorative book published in collaboration with DC in 2011. Now I don’t think that fact completely removes the book as a source, but it certainly damages its value as one. 

My problem with that date, 2011, is that it’s the year the New 52 premiered. I called it a commemorative book because it’s meant to be a look back at a fully complete timeline, a kind of “this is us saying goodbye” product. The date and format alone make me hesitant to cite the certificate, but on top of that, the certificate is inconsistent with prior canon. 

I am intimately familiar with retcons and conflicting numbers in the DC timeline. I made a point at the beginning of this paper to tell you that although this is my best attempt to make a cohesive timeline, assuming that I can carve out a cohesive timeline is fundamentally flawed. 

I’m not saying that a single contradictory number is enough to make me disregard a source. I am saying that in this particular conversation about an already suspect source, I’m going to take inconsistency into account. 

In New Titans #55 (1989), the issue from Corrections, Dick finds out about Jason’s death because a team member notices Jason’s status is set at “unknown.” Dick uses Bruce’s passcode to access restricted information, and he and the Titans see that Jason’s real status is “deceased.” 

The death certificate in The Batman Files (2011) marks Jason’s height at 4’6 and his age at 15. In contrast, Dick’s scene puts Jason at 5’4, and its only reference to Jason’s age is a very relatable question from Donna. “How old was he, anyway?”

New Titans #55 (1989)

There’s a substantial difference between the two heights, and I think it’s also worth noting that for a 15 year old American male, 4’6 is in the 0.1 height percentile. In the past, I and many others have tried to justify that height along the lines of Jason being malnourished or similarly afflicted. Personally, I liked the parallel between this height for Jason and Damian’s height at his own death in 2013, and I know I’ve talked about that in the past.

I’m not criticizing anyone for using the 4’6 number, but I do think the unlikelihood of a 15 year old that size is worth bringing up. 

In summary, The Batman Files (2011) is so bad of a source that I’m only willing to use it as a last resort. Unfortunately, it’s time for a last resort. 

I mentioned a timeline in Batman Annual #25 (2006) that counts forward from Jason’s death. I’m not going to use image cites here because they’re just isolated text boxes labeled either “six months later” or “one year later.”

Using that timeline, we know that Jason’s resurrection took place six months after his death. He spent one year in a coma, then one year on the street, then one year with the League of Assassins. Finally, he spent a nebulous time training before he returned to Gotham. 

We know that Jason was gone for a minimum of three and a half years, then whatever time “training” includes. Personally, I’m applying my best attempt at comic logic to say he was missing for somewhere between three and four years. 

To understand the next bit, I need to point out that from Jason’s death on, I’m going to be using Tim’s age to track time in the same way I’ve been using Dick’s so far. 

As a reminder, I know what age Bruce was when Dick became Robin (28), and I know Dick’s age at the same point (13), so I know there’s a 15 year age difference. As I track Dick’s age through the timeline, I add 15 to get Bruce’s. 

In the same way, I know what age Dick was when Jason became Robin (19), and I know Jason’s age at the same point (12), so I know there’s a 7 year age difference. I can use that number ongoing. 

I know that Tim was 13 when he made his first appearance as Robin, and I’ll get into that in the next section. After that, I’m placing Dick, Tim, and Cass’s adoptions based on Tim’s age. 

To do that, I need to know how much older Dick is than Tim, and I can only get that by knowing Jason’s age at his death, sort of. 

How long was Jason Robin? If I had that information, I could establish Jason’s age by counting up from 12, the age when he became Robin, then establish Tim’s age from there.  

I can’t really answer that question. There is a panel from Batman #436 where Dick, apparently in his first time at the manor since Jason’s death says the following. 

Batman #436 (1989)

My instinctual interpretation is it’s been two years since he stopped being Robin at 19, making Dick 21 and Jason 14. In my opinion, that’s straightforward plain language, but it seems like I’m in the minority on that one, and most folks read it as Dick saying it’s been two years since he was last at the manor. We know from Batman #416 (1988) that Dick’s last visit to the manor was 18 months after Dick left home. 

Batman #136 (1988)

I think the most honest thing to say is that Jason was Robin for an indeterminate amount of time that was somewhere between two and three years. I don’t know which number is closer. I also, if you remember, think that Jason was gone from Gotham for somewhere between three and four years, but I don’t know where in that range the real number is. 

Here’s why absolutely nothing I’ve said in the past seven pages matters: I need to build my timeline based on the age gap between Jason and Tim. 

I don’t know how old Tim was when Jason died. 

I know how old Tim was at his first appearance as Robin, and that’s a different number. 

We’ll finish this conversation in a moment.

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Tim becomes Robin

We begin, thankfully, with a straightforward fact. Tim’s first storyline spans Batman #440-442 (1989). The arc is called A Lonely Place of Dying, and we already talked about it. Tim, having watched Batman and Robin from the shadows for years, comes forwards in the aftermath of Jason’s death in an attempt to convince Dick to become Robin for a second time.

Batman #441 (1989)

We know that Tim was 13 years old at the time, but I do need to clarify exactly what time that was— an indeterminate amount of time after Jason’s death. 

The word that pops up a couple of time in Tim’s first arc is “months,” from Tim and Two-Face. How many months? Who’s to say. 

Batman #442 (1989)

So, from the top. We know that Bruce was eight when his parents died, 26 when he became Batman, 27 when he met Dick, 28 when Dick became Robin, and 34 when he met Jason.

Dick was 12 when he met Bruce, 13 when he became Robin, 19 when he left home and Jason became Robin. 

Jason was 12 when he became Robin.

Bruce is 15 years older than Dick. Bruce is 22 years older than Jason. 

Dick is 7 years older than Jason.

How long was Jason Robin? Unknown, but somewhere between two and three years. At that point, he died. “Months” after that, Tim was 13. 

Here, we need to acknowledge that Jason could have been either 14 or 15 at his death, and at the same time, Tim was either 12 or 13. We need to know how far they are apart to calculate Tim’s age in relation to Jason, Dick, and Bruce— ongoing, we will always know exactly how old Tim is, so (if we know how far apart Jason and Tim are) we will always know Bruce, Dick, and Jason’s age from there. 

How much older than Tim is Jason? Somewhere between one and three years, I guess, but I can’t really go beyond a well-researched guess. In my opinion, there isn’t a straightforward answer for this one.

Having presented my facts, here is my conclusion. Jason was 15 when he died. At the same time, Tim was 13. They are two years apart. 

Why? To begin, I’m more comfortable using the number we already have for Tim, 13, than I am dropping him to 12 on the mere possibility that he could have been 12. 

Second, even though The Batman Files (2011) is a terrible source, it does at least sort of indicate that the official DC position is a Jason who was 15 years old at his death. 

Third, visually speaking, Jason looks closer to 15 than 14 at his death. Is that good evidence? No, absolutely not. Comic book art is definitionally variable, but I am going to pull a few panels for you to look over. 

Batman #427 (1988)

Finally, I feel that Jason and Tim are, in later works, treated as if they are different ages. I’m not going to go into much detail on that one because it is purely a personal reaction, but I would refer to Teen Titans #29 (2005) as an example. That issue has Jason and Tim’s first meeting, after Jason comes to the tower specifically to attack Tim. 

Teen Titans #27 (2005)

Another well-known issue to check out is Teen Titans #47 (2007).

My basic position is that there are so many ways, all uncertain, to slice Jason and Tim’s ages that I can take my pick. I chose the ones that most closely mirror later canon, fall most squarely into the possible range, and feel the most intuitively right. 

They also have the benefit of simplicity, which was very much a factor. 

Don’t agree with me? Fair enough. I think I’ve given you enough information to make an educated judgment, and I’ve also gone ahead and made a timeline in the alternative. In this one, Jason was 14 at death, and he and Tim are only one year apart. 

----------

In the Alternative

----------

Cass appears

Having progressed beyond Jason and Tim’s age gap, we reenter simple canon. I hope you’re as pleased as I am. 

Cass was 17 years old at her first appearance, which we can establish easily based on two different issues. Cass first appears in Batman #567 (1999), during an arc called No Man’s Land. At the time, she is working for Barbara Gordon in the aftermath of an earthquake that destroyed most of Gotham. We learn Cass’s backstory through that issue. 

Cass’s biological father is David Cain, a villain, who raised Cass in isolation, never exposing her to a verbal language or allowing any kind of socialization. By comic book logic, her upbringing gave her a near-superhuman ability to understand and anticipate physical actions, as those actions are her only form of communication. 

Cain trained her as a child assassin, then took her to her first kill. Cass murdered a man and experienced, through his body language, the pain he felt at his death. Immediately afterward, she ran away from her father.

Batgirl #62 (2005)

We know that Cass was eight years old when she killed and ran. We also know that her first appearance in Gotham was nine years after she ran, thanks to Barbara Gordon’s file. 

Batgirl #1 (2000)

Simple enough. She was 17. How old was everybody else? We find out from Tim’s timeline. 

This next bit will come up a few times. We know that Tim was 15 from at least 1993 to 2003, established by three different issues. We know from Detective Comics #668 (1993) that Tim was 15 during Knightquest, the arc where Jean-Paul Valley was briefly Batman. Barbara tells us in 2002 that Tim is still 15, and Tim turns 16 on-panel in 2003. 

In Knightquest, Tim gets his driver’s license early, at age 15, because Jack Drake is in a wheelchair. I suppose the wording here is ambiguous on a technicality, but I don’t think there’s any significant argument against Tim being 15; if he was only 14, the language would be different.  

Detective Comics #668 (1993)

Next, in Batgirl #24 (2002), Barbara says she’s “sending a 15 year old” as she reaches for Tim’s com line.

Batgirl #24 (2002)

We could stop here for Cassandra’s appearance, since that happened in 1999, between the 1993 issue and the 2002 reference. For completion’s sake, however, let’s note that Robin #116 (2003) is about Tim’s 16th birthday. He forgets about it, so his step-mother throws a surprise party. 

Robin #116 (2003)

Okay, so Tim was 15 when Cass appeared at age 17. That puts Bruce at 39, Dick at 24, and Jason at 17 if you’re counting by years elapsed since his birth. 

Bruce met his daughter when he was 39 and she was 17, in reference to my original question. Cass is 22 years younger than Bruce, seven years younger than Dick, the same age as Jason, and two years older than Tim. 

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Dick is adopted

This one, having already established Tim’s timeline, is very simple. Dick was adopted in Gotham Knights #17 (2001).

Gotham Knights #17 (2001)

Again, Tim was 15 from 1993 to 2003, and 2001 falls within that range. Tim was 15, which makes Dick 24 and Bruce 39. 

At this point in the timeline, Bruce, a 39 year old, has two adopted children, one of whom is deceased as far as Bruce is concerned. His adopted children are (17) and 24. He has already met two of his future children, Cass and Tim. 

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This is PART ONE. I’ll reblog Part Two onto this post when I wake up, which should be around the same time this posts. 

[gettingvetted]

"There are absolutely zero studies proving any of the benefits of raw feeding that proponents claim." Anyways google Raw Proof Study or maybe just talk to owners/breeders/vets that have been feeding their pets a raw diet for years

Anyways maybe learn about the hierarchy of evidence? 24 dogs with no control cohort is simply laughable as any kind of defining study lol. Plus all they demonstrated was “no adverse effects or weight loss” for 24 months. Two years. 24 dogs. No cats. No lifetime feeding trials. No control group. No sick animals that they were trying to heal. No switching from a standard adult kibble diet to raw followed by scientific comparison of differences in health after the switch. 4 different diets so the sample sizes for each were even smaller. The only metrics they used for “adverse effects or weight loss” were physical exam, PCV/TP, and serum ALP (aka the absolute minimum database to put an animal under anesthesia). They didn’t do a full CBC/chemistry, thyroid panel, abdominal ultrasound, urinalysis, echocardiogram, etc. (pro tip: WSAVA compliant food brands that run feeding trials? they do all those things. On a yearly or more-often basis. For every single animal.). The authors even readily admit that they ignored the AAFCO requirements for their study because it would change their results:

“Whereas AAFCO stipulates that dogs must be kept in laboratory conditions, it was decided that the dogs would remain in their usual homes. The reason for this was because it was considered that laboratory conditions, being abnormal, produce results that are not entirely applicable to real-life conditions. There was no control group as it was felt it could serve no useful purpose.”

^yeah, except refute your results, amirite? lmao

Compared to the lifetime feeding trials on thousands of animals done for decades by Hills, Purina, Royal Canin, Iams, Eukanuba especially for their prescription diets that actually fix or improve animal health issues? I don’t think so babe. You notice that this study was never published in a peer-reviewed scientific journal and was promoted by dogsnaturallymagazine so it doesn’t even count as a study... lol.

I stand by my original statement: There are absolutely zero studies proving any of the benefits of raw feeding that proponents claim.

[iculyrea]

One Last Lap

well the time is now, so enjoy my first story (: I have picture of what it would look like so let me know if you want them (:

The idea of retiring came from him constantly being away from his family, watching his sons grow up and getting into hockey just like their father and watching his six month old daughter grow up was getting to him. Any time Sid was home he would soak up all of his time with his kids. Rather it would be helping his kids put on their school uniforms to picking them up at school after practice just to get some extra bonding time with them. He really wanted to spend more time with is his daughter because she was their first daughter but also the last child him and y/n would have. Eventually he made up his mind and told the team and close ones about this season would be his last season. Some people were surprised while others understood and were sad. As usual he wanted to keep it private and when he was ready, he would make an official statement to the media and the fans. The opening night game went well for them and won against the Flyers. This would be the last first home game of the season for Sid and he made sure that he would enjoy it all and remembering every little thing. He was happy that you, Alexander (10), Bastian (8), Marcos (7) Iliana (6 months) were there at the first home game of the season. Cheering him on while the boys had their father’s jersey on and Iliana had a Pens onesie on with a black and gold bow on her head. He was a proud father that his children are able to see him do what he loves the most. This season was probably one of the best seasons for the Pens and most memorable for Sid. Which would make saying goodbye to this lifestyle and friends and fans a bit harder for him. As the regular season was coming to an end Sid was secretly getting a bit emotional because he knew things were ending soon. He was happy but also sad. Luckily, the Pens made it into the Stanley Cup Playoffs which gave him even more time to spend with his teammates as they prepare for the first round. The excitement was fun for the whole family, Alex and Bastian would stay up a little later during the away games if it was on a school night. In the morning they would tell Marcos what happened and talked about the game on the way to school. Hearing the boys talk about their father made your heart so happy. Not only did it make you happy but also Sid too. This was one of the things that you knew you were going to miss once Sid retired. After clinching the champion spot for the Stanley Cup Finals Sid made the decision to announce to the world that he is retiring after this season. “After playing many years of playing the sport I fell in love at a young age, I have decided to retire after this coming season. It is with a heavy heart to know that I will not be coming back to PPG Paint Arena this coming fall. As well as not seeing my second family that I call my team on a daily basis and the friendly staff and employee’s when I walk in almost everyday. Also not seeing the most passionate fans that we have here. I have had a good hockey career in my life, and I am lucky that my children have been able to see me play. The boys are sad that their dad isn’t going to be on tv anymore but happy that I will be home more. I will be able to spend more with Iliana and scare away any boy that comes near her. Mostly, spending more time y/n and watching our kids grow up and support their dreams like our parents did for us. This wasn’t easy but I felt like my time on the ice as come to an end. It has been a crazy roller coaster and I am thankful for everyone in my life who has joined me during this part of my life. I will always been a Pittsburg Penguin and now it is time to focus and bring back the Stanley Cup to Pittsburg one last time.” The news came to a shock for everyone in the hockey community and the sports community too. You and Sid got numerous messages, phone calls and emails, even gifts about his retirement. Everyone supported him and his decision, even the fans were okay knowing that their captain was hanging up his skates at the end of the season. It made every Pens fan have more excitement and passion for the last round of the Stanley Cup Finals.  The Pens were playing against the LA King’s. The Kings won against the St. Louis Blue while the Pens won again the Capital’s. The Pens were down one game so game six was in California which took place on the weekend. You wanted to go because this would be Sid’s last away game even more so last play second to last playoff game. You decided to take all of the kids to California, to support him before game 7. You told the boys to pack their bags for the weekend and they were so excited to see their dad play in California. The game plan was to pick them up from school early and head to the airport. The flight was about five hour which gave the kids time to work on their school work then relax. All three of them were playing hockey in aisle together while Iliana was on your lap looking at the window. (they are in a private jet cause why not) Once yall arrived at the airport you and the kids headed to the hotel and stayed there for the rest of the evening knowing that tomorrow is a big day. Sid didn’t know yall were coming at all so this would be  a complete surprise to him seeing yall at Game 6. Once you arrived at the stadium and got settled in the suite, and the kids had their jersey’s on along with Iliana in a Pens onesie and waited for the puck to drop. Once the puck dropped everything was happening so fast, Sid was doing amazing and playing with so much passion. Y’all both knew that time was cutting short for him. He played his heart out and everyone in the stadium knew, even the fans knew that were watching back home. The amount of energy he had playing was rubbing off on the rest of the team. Halfway through the first period still scoreless but no one was going down without a fight. The shots on goal were slowly getting higher and higher, if the Pens lose then game 7 is back home. Second period came and finally someone scored on the Pens team. The boys and Iliana were happy and cheering on their father. You were taking all of this in because you knew this was also the end too. A few minutes later the kings scored which made you nervous. Sid was getting nervous too, but he knew he had to push on with a positive mentality. As the second period ended and it was tie, everyone in the bench walked off the ice on edge. Sid for some reason decided to look up and he saw all four of his children with the biggest smile on their faces. They even made a sign that said ‘’ GO DAD WE <3 YOU’’ and for Sid it made him happy knowing his family was there supporting him and his team. As the third period started, the kings put another point on the board. Things weren’t looking to well for the Pens, however they still fought hard but ended losing which meant game 7 was back home. You took the kids down to the dressing room to go meet Sid. Alex and Bastian were sad that they lost but Marcos happy that game 7 was going to be home cause he said the food at the arena was better back at PPG Paint Arena than here. Sid was happy to see all of yall and thankful that everyone could come. Of course, Sid was upset but he knew he had one last chance to get it right at home. That was the only thing he was thinking on the way back home along with the rest of the team. Winning one last Stanley Cup for Sid was going to mean just as much as the others. The following couple of days everyone worked harder on the ice and during work outs. They were ready for game 7 just as much as the fan were ready. Finally, game day at PPG Paint Arena, Sid was about to leave the house and all of the boys hugged him for good luck and kissed you before he left. He got to the stadium earlier than normal, this was it. The last game he would play. It was there were mixed emotions for him and everyone, even for the staff. He didn’t want this to distract him from playing his heart out. The stadium had special rally towels for game 7 and for Sid. It was the calm before the storm, everyone was wearing gold and black and went all out. As you arrived with the kids, everyone was coming up to you and the boys asking how everyone felt about Sid not playing anymore. You said it will be a big adjustment for everyone but of course you would be sad. The boys were sad because this is the life and atmosphere that they grew up in and Iliana was also getting use to it but didn’t understand much. They would even ask for signed hockey sticks from other players as gifts. The other players children were practically liked cousins to them. You even were looking back at taking Alex to his first game and first playoff game. Alex was taking it the hardest that is why he is playing hockey to be like his dad.  As everyone got settled down in the suite and Marcos being happy cause the food is better. The boys brought more signs and wore their father’s number on the back, same with Iliana. Sid was focused and was ready to play one last time with his team. The puck dropped and the Pens were in control. The passes were clean and crisp, everyone was communicating with each other. Boom first goal of the game was scored by Sid, they were up one to zero. The atmosphere was crazy, everyone was cheering and screaming. You were excited to watch Sid as if it was the first time back when yall started dating. You were mesmerized and anxious too, the boys were cheering and screaming too. Iliana was happy and dancing on your lap which made your heart melt. Halfway through the first period the Pens scored again. Everyone felt good but didn’t want to get comfortable. As the first period ended Sid saw the signs that yall made and couldn’t help but smile. The signs said “ ONE LAST TIME FOR US DAD” “BRING THE CUP HOME” “LET ILIANA SIT IN THE CUP”. Second period started things were still going well. The kings scored which came out of nowhere but that didn’t stop the energy. Halfway Sid scored again which made it 3-1 but again no one was getting comfortable. Once the second period ended and both teams left the ice. Sid  stopped to one last time to look at the signs yall made and made him happy again, he laughed cause Marcos had nacho cheese on his face. Walking out of the dressing one last time was sad for Sid cause he knew that this was it. He had one amazing career and this last 20 minutes was going to be the longest 20 mins ever he had ever played. The teammates were already telling him his goodbyes along with the coaches and staff. Third period started and it was a race against the clock. The Sid scored again making it 4-1 that quickly changed to 4-2. Sid kept fighting and skating as fast as he could. There was fire in his eyes because he wanted to bring the Stanley Cup back to Pittsburg as he said goodbye to his hockey career. The 20 minutes turned into the last 5 minutes of the game. You took the kids down the ice level to celebrate with him along with the other families. As the final buzzer buzzed, everyone went crazy. They did it, they won 4-2. Sid was as happy as could be. All the boys ran on the ice towards Sid to hug him. You and Iliana walked careful but met Sid you guys halfway on the ice. Tear were in both of yall’s eyes. You and Sid both looked at each other with happiness, Sid said “ No don’t do that..don’t cry because if you cry I’m going to cry and you know how much I hate crying at work” you couldn’t help it. Neither could Sid, he was so happy and emotional that tv reporters kept the cameras on him. There was not a dry eye in the stadium, just like tradition on winning the cup. Sid took one last lap with the Stanley Cup above his head. People were chanting “One more year” but he knew that this was the only way to end his hockey career. You and S, the boys and Iliana took pictures. Sid took the kids around the rink so he could do one last lap with them too. He was giving the fans one last look before walking off with his family and Stanley cup. .

[jenoptimist]

request:

can I request enemies to lovers with Lucas 👉🏼👈🏼🥺

✮ Pairing: lucas x reader (gender neutral)

✮ Genre: (one-sided) enemies2lovers | shopkeeper!au

✮ Additional info: miscommunication & misunderstandings

✮ Word count: 5.3k

♡ Yakult says: thank you so much for the request !! i decided to make this be in the same au as my florist!xiaojun fic but it takes place before it 🤪 don’t worry though, you can read this as a standalone !! 

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Dream Puffs stood in between a quaint bookshop named Moon’s Bookworms and the one and only tattoo and piercing studio in your small town aptly named, Nakamoto’s Body Art Studio. All three buildings adhered to a similar color scheme which consisted of various shades of brown; Moon’s Bookworms was displayed with gold plated, elegant lettering and a dark mahogany colored body, Nakamoto’s Body Art Studio was written with bright neon lights against an umber colored building and the Dream Puffs building was the color of pecans, its name displayed in large, white letters. The buildings across the street were the exact opposite; the flower shop Rainbow V was colored in pretty pastels and the bright thrift shop Tern & Ten’s Treasures was a fusion of artsy and chic. There was an empty outlet just in the middle of the two stores, directly across from Dream Puffs, that was very obviously lacking the loud personalities all the buildings on that side owned. 

Recently there had been rumors that the lot had been sold a couple of weeks ago and that whoever had bought it also would be moving into the apartment directly across from yours. Although your curiosity was peaked, not catching a single sight of the newcomer, you knew that you weren’t the only one. The other owners on the block had gathered around in the far corner of your cozy café, gossiping among one another. It seemed as if Yuta and Yongqin were doing most of the chatting, Kun and Taeil chiming in whenever they thought it was appropriate. Seeing as the rush of customers had officially calmed down, a few of your regulars in their usual seats, you allowed yourself to part take in their conversation when Yuta waved you over with that dazzling smile of his. 

“So, y/n, what do you think?” The tattoo artist asked, his cheek resting in the palm of his left hand. 

“What do I think about what?” You shot back quizzically as you sat down, automatically setting the nape of your neck on top of Yongqin’s arm when he rested it on the back of your chair.

“What kind of store do you think this mystery person will open up?” Taeil clarified, lazily fiddling with the straw in his iced-tea in between his index finger and thumb.

You hummed. “Maybe something for arts and crafts?” You weren’t good at guessing but you did know that a store that catered for specific types of painting and drawing materials were needed, judging by Taeyong’s constant complaints about how there should be an art supply store because shipping was too expensive every time he bought something online.

At your side, Yongqin practically began vibrating with excitement along with Yuta across from you. Their reactions were something you expected since the two of them, as well as and Taeyong, were extremely talented artists; where Taeyong and Yongqin drew for fun, Yuta’s job as a tattoo artists required him to draw on a regular basis and he absolutely adored it. As Yongqin and Yuta chatted excitedly, Taeil chiming in every now and again, your eyes zeroed in on Kun as he sipped on his latte, his eyes suspiciously shifty. Before you could voice out your question, someone entered the café and headed straight for the counter. You had sent Doyoung and Taeyong on their breaks ten minutes prior so you had no choice but to slip out of your chair and bounce over behind the counter.

While the customer’s eyes roamed the menu above you, you occupied yourself with wiping the counter and when you couldn’t pretend to clean anymore, you drummed your fingers on your thigh. Finally, the tall - and extremely attractive - man made eye contact with you. With a smile you hoped wasn’t awkward, you tapped in his three drink orders and asked if he’d like any of the sweets on display since he was studying them so intensely.

“Can I have one of each?” 

It wasn’t an unusual request, plenty of customers had asked before because Doyoung and Taeyong were extremely talented at what they did. You always found yourself fighting for the position to be their taste tester against Donghyuck and Jungwoo whenever they came up with something new. There wasn’t any friendly small talk as you prepared his order, in fact whenever you caught a glimpse of the customer, his eyes were continuously roaming around the building. You were particularly proud of the interior design of the place. Taeyong had spent endless hours painting designs on the walls while you and Doyoung chose the furniture you thought would suit it the best. Your favorite part in particular was the copper wire wall grid that was used to display the instant pictures of the staff posing goofily and the regulars. Judging from the way the customer’s eyes locked in on the pictures on the wall, he did too.

“Thanks for coming! Hope to see you again!” You chimed while you placed the money in the register. It was unlikely to happen, you knew, because the man wasn’t one that you recognized. Dream Puffs often had customers that stopped by because they needed a pick-me-up during their travels. The only response you received was the incline of his head and a gorgeous smile before he turned to leave. You watched his back as he strutted away, your head tilted to the side slightly. 

“Love at first sight?” Yongqin teased in a loud voice from your right and if you had been close enough, you would have thrown your cloth at him. 

“Shut up Yongqin!”

*

“You will not believe what I just heard!” Yongqin exclaimed from somewhere behind you. It was half past six in the morning and you and the boys were setting up, Taeyong had just taken out a fresh batch of pastries while Doyoung was bent over the glass display case for the food, organizing the goods meticulously and adding glacé cherries to the cupcakes. You hummed in question as you snatched a croissant that you knew would be deliciously buttery, flaky and soft when you took a bite of it. “The empty store! You’ll never guess what it’s going to be!” 

“A hardware store?” Doyoung guessed uninterestedly as he adjusted a cupcake. 

“No!” You watched, mid-bite, as Yongqin walked by you and stood so that he was in clear view of the three of you. “A café!” Both the statement and the hot interior of the croissant had your jaw dropping. 

“What?!” You exclaimed while you set your pastry on the flour covered counter, just beside the baking tray full of equally measured, unbaked cookies. 

“Yeah,” he said, dragging out the vowels as he slowly bopped his head, “I know right. Dream Puffs might actually have some competition now.”

“Out of all places to set up a café.” Taeyong mumbled, his brows furrowed, flitting over to the other side of the room to grab his bottle of strawberry flavored water. 

“Where did you get this information from?” Doyoung asked after he straightened himself out, crossing his arms over his chest.

Yongqin, who was watching Taeyong gulp down his beverage, mindlessly said, “Kun.” You pressed him for more information, recalling how shifty the said florist had been the other day. Yongqin tore his eyes away from Taeyong. “I don’t really know how he knew, he just let it slip yesterday.” He grabbed a glacé cherry and popped it into his mouth. “We should totally put on some disguises and scope the place out when it opens!” 

Taeyong snorted. “As if you work here.” 

“Well we don’t want you guys going out of business now, do we?” Yongqin reasoned as he ran his fingers through his pink streaked blond hair. “So, are you in?” 

“Of course.” You said, picking up your croissant and taking a big bite of it.

The plan was discussed in pieces throughout the day while the three of you manned the counter. Yongqin stood to the side, switching from chatting to your customers animatedly as they waited for their orders and telling the three of you how he needed a temporary employee because Chenle was going on vacation in a few weeks from June until August. He stayed until he had to return to his own store since his younger sister had to go for her break. As the day dragged by, you insisted that Doyoung and Taeyong to go home early - they deserved it for all the work that they do - while you stayed behind to some additional cleaning before you locked up for the evening. Not bothered to cook dinner once you were home, you called for some takeout as you toed off your shoes. While you waited for the delivery driver to call you to let you know they were downstairs, you flopped onto your couch and mindlessly scrolled through your phone. When the call came, you were quick to grab your cash and dash out your door. 

With a warm box of pizza in your hands, mini boxes of the sides you selected on top of it, you turned to make you way back up when a voice called out for you to hold open the door for them. You fulfilled their request by swinging your leg and waited impatiently for the weight to be lifted off of your foot so that you could run off and eat. 

“Thank you! Oh,” the stranger said when you managed to flash them a quick smile, “hey it’s you!”

Internally, you groaned. What would it take for you to be able to eat your dinner? It was going to get cold. Plus you ordered their fudge brownie that came with ice-cream. Nevertheless you plastered on a smile while turning your head to the side that the stranger decided to occupy and found yourself looking at the tall and handsome man from a few days ago. 

“Yeah,” you agreed, not knowing what else to say as you followed him into the elevator and also stunned by the fact that he could potentially have lived here all this time somehow without you ever seeing him. Although, maybe he was visiting a friend? “Are you the one who moved in across the hall?” You asked curiously after eyeing him press the button to your floor.

“Guilty as charged,” he replied, raising both his arms. Then, dropping them back down to his sides and stuffing them into his jacket pockets, he said, “my name’s Wong Yukhei.”

“Y/n. I’d shake your hand but, y’know.” You lifted the boxes of food for emphasis and he nodded understandingly. Yukhei got a few words in about the town, how cute he found it and how friendly the people were, before the ding! of the elevator finally signaled the end of your short journey to your floor. Yukhei allowed you to exit before him.

“Well it’s nice to officially meet you, neighbor.” Yukhei said, grinning cheekily as the two of you stood outside your respective doors, facing one another. 

After replying with sentiments that mirrored his, you finally entered your apartment and all but sprinted to your coach and dug in. Your new neighbor seemed nice enough. You wondered what brought him over to this town–there was nothing particularly attractive about it except for the people that lived there, not that anyone living outside of the town would know that or anything. It was when you were halfway through your third slice that something dawned on you. 

*

“I know who it is!” You said loudly, barging into Nakamoto’s Body Art Studio. As expected, Yongqin was getting his forearm tattooed by Yuta. You greeted Jaehyun, who was flicking through a magazine, with a high five as you passed by the reception desk and took one of the wheeled stools and sat on Yongqin’s other side, opposite Yuta. 

“Know who?”

“The new store owner! I met him yesterday.” Yuta finished the line he was working on before looking up at you briefly to acknowledge your presence before resuming his work. Yongqin was the one who prompted you to continue. “His name is Wong Yukhei. He was the really tall one from the other day.”

“The one you fell in love with?” Your friend teased. You mimicked his words, voice as high as possible, while making a face at him before groaning dramatically, thinking about how amiable Yukhei had been in the few minutes that you were together. 

“Guys, he ordered all of the food we had on display.” You chewed on your bottom lip. Maybe his friendly behavior was an act, he did know that you work at Dream Puffs after all–you literally co-owned the place. “You don’t think he’s going to steal everything the guys make do you?” Both of your friends scrunched their faces which only served to make you groan loudly again. 

“That’s rough buddy.” Jaehyun said from his position on the right side of the room, the sound of him flicking his page loud and clear when Yuta removed the tattoo gun from Yongqin’s arm. 

“What’s rough?” Jungwoo asked confusedly, his voice sounding further than usual, probably just having stepped out of the separate room that he used to pierce their clients. 

*

You stood behind the register, watching with narrowed eyes as Yukhei and some unfamiliar people filed into the building directly across from yours, each carrying supplies. It had been days and days of you heatedly watching their every move as they worked on their space. While they were all having the time of their lives interior decorating, you were practically tearing your hair out at the thought of having competition that was a mere twenty steps away from Dream Puffs. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Doyoung and Taeyong’s ability to bake or your barista skills and it wasn’t as if you were the only café in the area or anything - there was another one just on the other side of town - but he really couldn’t have set up literally any other kind of store?

What was even more infuriating was that Yukhei was acting really chummy with you and the others outside of your working hours. It even became a regular thing for Yukhei to wait for your shift to finish so that the two of you could walk back to your apartment complex together. Admittedly, even though you enjoyed your own company, it was kind of nice having someone to talk to on the way home. 

“You’ll scare away the customers if you keep making that face.” Taeil said, his eyes never wavering from the page that he was reading. It was a new book for the book club that he created recently, said it would bring in more customers. He shared a table with Jeno, who was reading the same book, and Mark, who was playing Luigi’s Mansion on his Nintendo Switch.

You sniffed, tilting your head to the side. “I’m not making a face.”

“Dude, you so are!” Mark, who was sitting across from Taeil, said after taking a sip of his banana milk. 

“Don’t listen to them,” Jeno told you nicely, “of course you’d be making a face, I mean, that guy is gonna make a store that could potentially out-business you.” 

You threw your hands at his direction as if to say exactly! with wide eyes. “We’re practically enemies!” 

“Enemies,” Taeyong repeatedly lowly from beside you, amusement ringing in his voice. “As if.”

You gaped after throwing him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean.” Before your friend could reply, your attention was redirected elsewhere with the call of your name. Taeyong bumped your hip and scurried off. You turned to face none other than the man himself. “Yukhei,” you smiled, “the usual?”

“Please. Oh and could I also get...” He listed five other drinks and then picked out some food to bring along with him. As you prepared his order, the two of you talked about your plans over the weekend and even though you were aching with the need to ask about his shop, you said nothing. 

“He’s the enemy.” You whispered firmly to yourself. “Do not get distracted by his cute smile!”

“Cute smile?” Yongqin startled you by popping up from behind you. “Is this about Yukhei?” He asked loudly, tone full of mischief, as he nudged your side.

“Who else would it be about?” Taeil countered. 

Mark and Jeno chuckled while you raised your eyes to the ceiling, briefly reconsidering your choice in friends. Maybe you should stop giving them free drinks. Your gaze flickered to what would be Yukhei’s shop and found him sipping on his drink as he leaned on the glass, chatting to someone. As though he felt your eyes on him, he did a double take and beamed at you. 

“He’s the enemy.” You whispered to yourself once again, hoping that you would actually begin believing it soon, as you raised your hand to wave at him–he kept smiling at you until the person next to him clapped his shoulder and you would have loved to know what he said because Yukhei all but whipped his head towards him, his eyes practically bugging out of his head.  

*

It had been almost a month since Yukhei had moved into town and he still hadn’t opened up his shop. That was something that you kept in the back of your mind, even as he continued to be cordial with you and the others. Although you kept referring him as ‘the enemy’ to yourself, at this point he was your friend. There was no point in denying it or anything, considering that somehow your relationship with him progressed from only speaking to one another when he ordered stuff from Dream Puffs and when the two of you walked home together, to actually hanging out. You guys had actually agreed to start watching movies together every Saturday night and regularly went over to each other’s apartment to keep each other company. 

In fact it was actually Saturday and instead of receiving a text from Yukhei about what food he should bring over with him, it was one asking you to meet in front of Rainbow V. After texting him an affirmative, you changed out of your pyjamas and headed out. 

The nearer you got to Rainbow V, the more you could make out the distinct figure of Yukhei; he was leaning against the door of his shop, his left foot on top of it as he scrolled through his phone. You allowed yourself to stare at him for a little bit longer before taking bigger steps towards him. 

“Hey,” you greeted once you were close enough, “what’s up?” 

Yukhei returned your greeting, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he stepped forward to mirror you before raising his hand. When you gave him the high-five you assumed he was waiting for, he clicked his tongue and wrapped his large hand over yours. Startled, you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Wrong,” he grinned, a playful gleam in his eye, “you forgot our handshake already? Y/n, you wound me.” He placed his other hand on top of his chest, where his heart was, dramatically as he said the last part. 

“I didn’t forget,” you countered. “You got it wrong, dummy, it starts with a fist bump.”

Yukhei huffed, the grin he wore turning into something much softer. “You’re right.” 

Instead of releasing your hand like you thought he would now that it was clarified, he continued holding onto it and even lowered it slightly as if he wanted a better look. He turned it this way and that way slowly while staring like he was inspecting it. As he did that, your eyes flitted over to the beanie that covered his forehead (you liked how it looked on him, it looked really cute on him,) before travelling down to the rest of his face; there was a spark of something in his eyes, his head at an angle, as he stared at your hand in his. It was the look someone got when they found something they had been missing for a long while.

You cleared your throat, warmth creeping up your neck all the way to your cheeks. “Is there something you want to show me?”

“Yup!” 

And with that he interlocked your fingers, fished what sounded like a bunch of keys from his pockets and unlocked the door. He made quick work of turning on the lights, allowing you to be greeted by the sight of minimal style interior. There were large potted plants by the door, a long island with seating as well as booth tables. String lights were hung all around the cream colored wall, providing additional lighting to the dim lights. Yukhei lead you around the space, excitedly telling you about the work that had gone into it and how he had difficulty choosing what kind of style he wanted. 

“It looks amazing,” you complimented as he gestured for you to take a seat closest to where the register was. “It’s going to be a great café, I can tell.”

“Thanks,” he smiled shyly, “that really means”-he paused, tilting his head to one side with confusion written all over his face-“did you just say café?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, “looks like Dream Puffs is going to have some serious competition now.”

Yukhei released a hearty laughed. “Y/n, I don’t know where you got that information but this isn’t a café.” Your jaw almost dropped in shock and you stumbled with your words before settling for a ‘huh’. “Yeah, dum-dum, it’s going to be a boba shop.”

“Boba. . .shop.” You echoed slowly. 

Yukhei nodded, “yeah.” 

Later on the stroll home, after the two of you spent an hour or two in his shop with him telling you what kind of flavors he planned to have on the menu and pulling some suggestions from yourself (“what about toffee popcorn with, I don’t know, maybe whipped cream and actual popcorn at the top?”), he asked who told you that he’d be opening up a café to which you grumbled ‘Yongqin’, he let out a heart laugh again. You could feel the tremors that went through his body as he laughed since you were tucked warmly under his arm and whether or not it was because his laughter was contagious or how weirdly intimate the situation felt - it was the way he took of his beanie and adjusted it on your head, insisting that you looked cold (you were) and the way the two of you were practically glued to each other’s side - but you huffed out a laugh before smiling to yourself and leaned into him more.

“Hey, y/n,” Yukhei called once you unlocked your door. You turned to face him and found him aiming his phone straight at you. “Smile.” Instead of smiling, you made a silly face at him and jogged inside your apartment after the tell-tale sound his phone made that indicated that he snapped a picture of you. 

It was only when you were taking off your jacket and shoes that you realized that he hadn’t asked for his beanie back. Although you knew that you could easily make the short trip to him across the hall, you decided that you would give it back the next time he was at your place.

* 

“A little birdie told me that you and Yukhei went on a date last night.” Yuta said the following morning, barging into your small office and then plopped himself on the couch that was placed near your work desk. 

You were quick to shoot his statement down with, “your ‘little birdie’ is wrong.” After typing a quick ‘Kind Regards’ along with your name and position at the end of your email, you swiveled your chair around so that you could face your friend. He was scrolling through Instagram, double tapping every few seconds. “Who was it that told you that, anyway?”

“I don’t snitch on my sources.”

“I’ll give you twenty-five percent off whenever you buy coffee for a week.”

“Sold,” he said while he typed something quickly on his phone before lowering it so that he could flip himself over on his stomach and look up at you through his lashes. “It was Taeil. He fell asleep in his office and when he was locking up he said he saw you two mooning at each other alone in Yukhei’s shop.”

“We were not mooning at each other,” you sniffed, skimming your hands down your thighs. “What? We weren’t!” You emphasized when he gave you an unimpressed look.

Just as Yuta was about to reply, probably something sarcastic by how he arched his brow, his phone chimed to signal a text. He tutted at you before re-arranging himself so that he could reply with ease. You watched as his eyes read the message quickly before the corner of his mouth quirked upwards and he huffed out a laugh, typing furiously. While a large part of you was curious as to what could have elicited that reaction, you chose to turn back to your computer screen and browse through your email inbox. 

“If you aren’t dating him,” Yuta said after a few minutes of silence that involved him typing away while you binned some junk mail, “then what’s this all about?” From the corner of your eye, you saw him lift his phone towards you so that you could read whatever was on his screen. Turning, your eyes skimmed through his text, your eyebrows all but crawling to your hairline. He allowed you to grab the phone from his hand so that you could zoom in on the picture that followed the texts from Mark–his words were all in capital letters followed by several exclamation points. You opened your mouth to say, well, literally anything but nothing came out so you snapped it shut. Wordlessly, you handed Yuta back his phone before logging out of your computer.

“I have to go,” You said lowly, dazed, as you stood up. “I have to- will you tell the guys I’ll be back soon?” Yuta gave you an affirmative and then you were off, practically sprinting towards the door. 

On the way back to your apartment complex, your thoughts were full of Yukhei. You could admit that you had a big crush on him. It was difficult not to, you thought, what with how sweet and thoughtful he was. He was also funny and knew how to brighten up the room. But did that mean you wanted to date him? You weren’t sure although you knew that you certainly wouldn’t mind going on a date with him to find out.

Soon enough, you found yourself in front of his door. You stared at it for a long time, your heart racing, before you found enough courage to rap your knuckles against it. There was no answer. You tried an additional two times before you decided to leave it be, that you could talk to him later after your shift because he would probably be by the door, waiting for you with that big smile of his. You nodded to yourself and turned to walk away.

“Y/n?” His groggy voice came when you had taken three steps away from his door. “What’s up? Are you okay?” You turned on your heel (he looked adorable with his bedhead) and nodded stiffly, your heartbeat picking up speed again. “Want to come in?” He invited, opening his door wider.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work right now?” He asked, locking his door after you shuffled in. 

“Yeah but there was something I needed to talk to you about.”

Yukhei took a seat beside you on the couch and you tried not to concentrate on his knee that leaned against yours or how he automatically rested his arm on the back of the couch so that you were practically laying on it. 

“Texting me wouldn’t have done, no?” He teased. 

You shot a quick glance at him, took in his cute little smile and then stared pointedly ahead at his carpeted floor. “I didn’t really think about that at the moment.” You replied, your shoulders lifting to your earlobes. The only thing you had thought about was how you wanted to see him when you confronted him about what Yuta had shown you. Yukhei prompted you to tell him the reason for your visit. “Well, um, earlier Yuta showed me a text from Mark and I’m- we’re- your phone wallpaper?” The arm beneath your shoulders was gone in an instant and Yukhei jolted to his feet. “So it’s true?” You asked, peeking at him through your lashes. His expression was one of horror, arms splayed at his sides as if prepared to explain himself.

“Please don’t be mad! Taeil took the picture last night because apparently he saw us? I don’t know, Mark told me so I asked him to send me the picture and, well, I thought it was cute you know?” You did know. Taeil had managed to snap a shot of you two in front of Rainbow V - didn’t Yuta say that he only saw the two of you in the shop? - and it was when Yukhei had been laughing with you under his arm, a smile resting on your face. “I know I probably should have asked you, I don’t know what I didn’t. I can change it now if you want? Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” you assured, looking him in the eye so he knew that you meant it. He visibly relaxed, the tension bleeding out of him at your words. Once he stopped looking so panicked, he looked at you with wide eyes before darting them towards the floor. It seemed the roles were reversed this time, what with him avoiding your gaze while you continued staring at him. He raised a hand to cover his eyes while the other went to hug itself around his waist. “Hey Yukhei,” he still refused to look at you, “would you maybe want to go on a date with me?”

That immediately gained his attention. “What?” His voice was soft, coated in disbelief. “Are you serious?” After you insisted that you were, never once breaking eye contact with him, a large smile blossomed on his face and he let out a loud whoop, punching the air in triumph. As if remembering that you were there, he dropped his arm, although the smile remained on his face. “Apparently there’s a boba place opening tomorrow, right in front of Dream Puffs, what do you say we try it out?”

“I’d love to but I’m worried about seating.”

“Don’t worry, I’m on good terms with the owner.” Yukhei winked. The two of you dissolved into a fit of laughter shortly after.

“I’ve gotta get back to work,” you said while you stood up from the couch once both of you sobered. “But I’ll see you later?”

“Of course!” Pleased smiles were plastered on both of your faces even as he walked you to the door. 

*

You had barely stepped foot into Dream Puffs before Yongqin wrapped an arm around you and lead you to a table where Kun, Yuta and Taeil were seated, two vacant seats in between Kun and Yuta. Taeil let out a small titter, a smile that was too wide etched on his face as you and Yongqin sat down. 

“Tell us everything!” Yongqin exclaimed, “spare no detail!”

“I will but first,” you said as you turned to face him. “You brat! You knew that he wasn’t opening up a café, didn’t you? You totally tricked me!” 

There was no hint of guilt from him, just a shit-eating grin that reached from ear to ear. “Maybe so. Now go on, tell us!” You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance but couldn’t fight off the smile that gradually grew wider and wider on your face as you recounted the recent events that transpired between you and Yukhei.

[simplybakugou]

The Villain -- Ch. 10: Truly Happy

A/N: this is the last chapter (unless I change my mind and try to squeeze in another chapter lmao) but don’t worry, there will be an epilogue posted soon!

Pairing: villain!bakugou x female!reader

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 3,475

Remember, if you want to be tagged in future chapters, comment below and I’ll add your username to the list!

LINKS TO PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

✐posted 06.07.2020✐

The nurses smiled, bowing as they exited the room after finishing their checkup. You thanked them as they left, touching the bandage wrapped around your head. The back of your skull still throbbed from the staples the doctors impaled in you, making the pain intensify threefold. Other than the injury caused by the baseball bat Natsuya took to your head twice, your body was in one piece thankfully.

As for your quirk, it was completely wiped from your system. No matter how hard you tried to use it, your efforts were wasted. You were quirkless now.

But with the few hours you spent in the hospital, you could only sit around with your thoughts keeping you company. You had come to terms with losing your quirk at this point. As much as you loved your quirk and being able to utilize it to save and assist others, you were thankful that you had lost it over Bakugou’s. You had been given the opportunity to use it for heroism for a short period of time but it was far longer for you than it was for Bakugou. It wasn’t hard for you to recall all the times Bakugou vowed and boasted about how easy it would be for him to be a hero with a quirk so powerful and to see him unable to use it for good broke your heart.

After calling the authorities, Bakugou turned himself in as they arrested Natsuya. You were to give a statement on the occurrences from the night as well as testify for Bakugou along with Hawks and the Hero Commission Center. You felt a tug in your chest just thinking about it. It was difficult to think of the charges against Bakugou as he wasn’t completely off the hook. He still hurt civilians, no matter if it was for show or not but hopefully Hawks and Bakugou handing in the location to the rest of the League and Vanguard would make up for the damage he caused.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, tearing you away from the countless amount of worries piling up in the back of your mind. You flitted your eyes up, taken aback as two strong pink arms wrapped themselves around your neck. You groaned from the sudden contact.

“You’re okay! I thought you were hurt badly!” Mina cried.

You sighed as she pulled away with tears streaking your face. You mustered a smile to reassure her. “I’m fine, Mina. You don’t have to cry.”

She glared at you through her tears. “Of course I do! When the police called me and told me what happened, I couldn’t believe it!”

Before Mina could go on and on about her concerns, three knocks sounded from the door. You and Mina glanced over, gasping at the sight of Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima waiting idly by with small smiles on each of their faces. 

“What’re you guys doing here?” You asked, flustered by the presence of so many people at once.

“Heard the number one hero was hurt so of course we had to stop by,” Sero said with a grin as the three men approached your bed.

You smiled, shaking your head. “How the hell did you guys find out about this so quickly?”

Kaminari gestured over to the TV that you hadn’t bothered turning on. “It’s all over the news now.” You nodded in understanding, not surprised that the media had covered this big a story so quickly. 

“So it’s true?” Kirishima asked. “That Yamashita’s the real leader and Bakugou was acting this whole time?”

You nodded again as all four of them stared intently at you for your response. “Apparently he was approached by the Hero Commision to be a double agent. He’s been faking it for all these years.”

Mina rested her hand caringly on your shoulder before anyone else could say anything. “Are you alright? I mean about the whole Yamashita thing. I know how much he means to you.”

“Meant to me,” you corrected. “He meant a lot but I can never forgive him for this or see him the same again.”

“And you shouldn’t have to. He’s an asshole and he deserves to rot for what he’s done,” Sero said, Kaminari and Kirishima nodding along.

Kaminari eyed you nervously as if he were hesitant to speak. “I didn’t want to bring this up but on our way here I heard the nurses talking about it so it seemed important. Y/N, were you hit with the Quirk-Destroying Drug?”

Kaminari, Sero, and Mina all looked bewildered, turning their heads quickly over to you. You smiled, not wanting them to worry more than they already were. “I’m okay though. And you don’t have to feel bad or pity me. I’m fine with what happened.”

“Y/N…” Mina said sadly, wrapping her arms around you once more into her embrace. You sighed, rubbing her back in an attempt to comfort her.

“It’s not good for me to mope around about it. I’ve come to terms with it and there’s nothing that I can do that can change that,” you stated.

“You’re still our number one hero no matter what!” Sero said earnestly, making you smile. No matter what, you would never be forgotten by anyone as the number one hero.

Kirishima’s fist shook at his side after a moment of silence. “Can’t believe that idiot was faking it the whole time. And he didn’t even bother to rely on us, his friends, for help.”

“Yeah, it’s not like we wouldn’t have helped him or anything,” Sero said, Kaminari nodding along.

“But he had to make sure we were all fooled because if any of us slipped up for even a second, the rest of the League and the Vanguard would’ve caught on, and he would’ve been in trouble,” you reasoned, causing Kirishima, Sero, and Kaminari to stay silent, understanding the gravity of the situation that Bakugou was put into.

“Well, it’s not like he didn’t have his moments,” Kaminari said, eyeing you. “He would tense up when a certain someone was the one he had to go against.”

Sero snickered and Kirishima smiled. Even Mina nudged your side but you were just confused. “Who would he tense up around?”

Your four friends burst into laughter and you were still left stunned and out of the loop. Mina patted your back. “Maybe you’re better off not knowing.”

***

Bakugou’s investigation was one of the most nerve wracking experiences you had ever gone through, beating the countless times you had your life out in danger because of your job. Months had passed and he was still under police custody for interrogation and the remainder of the investigation. Throughout the process, Hawks and the Hero Commission Center gave their side of the story, reassuring the authorities that the blame was solely on them.

Everyday news outlets would cover Bakugou’s story, little pieces of news being delivered to the public on a regular basis. As a result, the court found Bakugou not guilty for the damage he had to cause. Instead, they fined the Hero Commission Center for approaching a minor with such a serious and deadly task, even compensating Bakugou’s parents who suffered with the idea that their son had abandoned them.

Along the way, you were called in to testify and provide your report for what occurred during your kidnapping. You made sure not to hold back on describing Bakugou’s wit and valor when he saved you, emphasizing the fact that you would have possibly died if it weren’t for him. Eventually Natsuya’s hearing occurred and the court, obviously, found him guilty and sentenced him to life in prison. You shuddered every time you saw his face on the news, disgusted that he was your friend for so long and even your boyfriend for a short period of time. 

With the time that passed, you had officially stepped down from heroism for good. It hurt you that you couldn’t do what you loved so much any longer but you knew there was nothing else you could do. Your fellow heroes never stopped thanking you for all of your acts of services that you had done within your time of heroism. Along the way, everyone, including the public, was curious of what you planned to do with the rest of your life. You simply stated that you would use this time to try out news things and discover what truly made you happy.

“And with the sentence of previous Chief of Police, Yamashita Natsuya being released just yesterday, the case following Bakugou Katsuki, famously known as Ground Zero, and Yamashita’s true identity has been closed. The League has finally been dealt with through the authorities and we can all be reassured that these villainous acts will be stopped--” You shut the TV off, setting the remote on the kitchen counter as you continued to cook dinner.

It was all finally over, and with the end of the case your mind couldn’t help but wonder if it was all finally over for good. Despite hearing the case being closed and the conflict being resolved, it felt surreal to believe it was over. So many people had gotten hurt through the actions of the League and Bakugou was a part of this hurt as well, whether it was intentional or he was ordered to do so. Nonetheless, you knew that Natsuya was the real perpetrator behind the amount of pain and suffering he enacted onto people and was too much of a coward to be the face of the League like Bakugou was.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you pulled it out, revealing a text from Mina who wanted to inform you about her sleeping over Jirou’s house after running into her during a routine patrol. You sent her a quick reply before diverting your focus to your food, moving to pack the food that you had made for Mina as well for her to eat the next day. 

Two sturdy knocks sounded from the door and you stood in place, wondering who would stop by so late in the night. Thinking it was one of your friends, you moved to answer the door, swinging it wide open and gasping at the sight. 

Bakugou leaned against the door frame, dressed in all black as per usual. “Can I come in?”

You stood, dazed as you stared at him, taken aback as you weren’t expecting him to pay you a visit. In fact you hadn’t known that he was officially released from custody in the first place. Bakugou waved his hand in front of your face, shaking you out of your trance and thoughts. You cleared your throat, opening the door a little wider for him to come in. 

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, watching on as Bakugou walked towards your couch and took a seat. 

His crimson eyes looked around the area, finally seeing what your place looked like before he glanced back at you. You felt intimidated under his gaze, the images of your kiss with him and him saving you flashing in your mind. He gave you an odd look once seeing your flustered expression, not thinking anything of it. “I got released earlier and I’ve got no place to go right now. You’re the first person I thought of.”

“But how’d you know where I live?” You asked, plating your food from the frying pan. 

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You think that time I had Dabi burn down this street except for your apartment building was a coincidence?”

You chuckled, forgetting that encounter entirely in the first place. It seemed like ages ago when you had met Bakugou in the abandoned flower shop that was on your street. You could vividly recall the feelings of uncertainty and doubt that you felt about everything that was going on around you. You and your friends were beginning to lose hope after not hearing from Bakugou for ten years. Then with the encounters that you faced with him in the flower shops and Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero faced between Dabi in which Bakugou prevented Dabi from hurting them. Your uncertainty only grew with these encounters but your faith in his innocence increased as well. And here he was, sitting in your apartment as a free man.

“I see you haven’t changed at all since we were kids,” you teased, unpacking the food that you had planned to put away for Mina and deciding to serve it to Bakugou.

Bakugou smirked. “Nothing’s gonna change the way I act, not even having to fake being a villain for a decade or two.”

You laughed, approaching him on the couch with two plates in hand. Bakugou was taken aback, not expecting you to feed him as that wasn’t why he had come to your place. Nevertheless, he took the plate from you and watched as you took a seat beside him. 

“So is everything okay? The police and authorities are planning to let you go for good?” You asked, wanting to hear verbal confirmation on what you were hoping for.

Bakugou nodded, taking a bite from your food. He held back a smile that was teasing at the corner of his lips. Your cooking was just as good as it was back when you and the others would stop by your house after school just to taste your food. “I’m good. I’ve been told to lie low from the public for now since it’s gonna take some time for everyone to get used to seeing me in person than on the news.”

You nodded, understanding the circumstances. “And did they say anything about you being a hero?”

Bakugou’s eyes flitted over to you, pausing before setting his plate down on the coffee table. “They said they don’t know yet. I don’t blame ‘em, I mean what civilian wants to be saved from a man who was the leader of the fucking League until a few months ago.”

Bakugou leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as his gaze averted to the table in front of him. He looked solemn, an expression you had never seen on his face. You set your own plate down, concerned with the sudden change in mood in the atmosphere. “I visited my folks for the first time in ten years. I’ve never seen my mom so pissed. Even my dad was mad. And yet my mom cried so fucking hard… I don’t think I’ve ever even seen her cry.”

Your brows furrowed as you could see how visibly distressed he was. “Katsuki…”

He brought his hand up to his forehead, rubbing his temples softly in an attempt to subside his aching head. “As happy as I was to see them, I felt annoyed with them. I was told that they lost hope in me after some time when they found out I was the leader of the League. And it fucking pissed me off. Aren’t parents supposed to have your back no matter what you do? Or am I just being a fucking idiot in thinking that?” Bakugou asked, rambling on to abate the tension he was feeling. He moved his hand down to his knee. “That’s when I realized I was in this alone, that no one was going to back me up. And no matter how many times I thought I was fine with it, I felt so fucking lonely. Until I met Watari, this old bastard that’s been helping me out and the first and only person I had told the truth about what was going on. He was the only one who had faith in me, who didn’t see me like I was some fucking monster.”

His scarlet eyes met yours and you felt a tug in your chest when noticing the pain behind his eyes. “And then I met you after ten years and I learned you still had faith in me. You believed in me when even my fucking parents didn’t. And for the longest time, I felt like everything would be okay.”

You leaned forward, closing the gap between you and Bakugou and enveloped him in your arms. Bakugou’s eyes widened, not even being able to recall the last time he was held like this, with someone attempting to comfort him. “Everything is okay, Katsuki. You finally don’t have to pretend to be someone that you’re not.”

Bakugou blinked away the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes, not wanting you to see him in a position that he deemed to be weak. He let out a breathless and humorless chuckle, his voice cracking slightly. “I just feel like I fucked up and did the wrong thing. I could’ve just been a regular kid and be a hero.”

“But you are a hero.” You pulled away, hands on his shoulders with the same reassuring smile that you always had on your face, the same smile that could make Bakugou fall head over heels for you all over again. “If it weren’t for you, the League would still be around causing havoc and hurting people left and right. But you infiltrated the group easily and did something as a kid that even some adults would never agree to do. You threw away your identity and your relationships, and you have no right to treat yourself like a criminal because you aren’t.”

A single tear fell from his left eye as he stared back at you in awe, unable to believe how you were so selfless and caring. You brought your thumb up and rubbed away the tear. Bakugou smiled back at you and you couldn’t recall the last time you had seen that smile. “I don’t fucking deserve you.”

You shook your head immediately. “No, you deserve more than me. You deserve the world and then some. Thanks to you, heroes will have a lighter workload and not have to deal with so many villains masquerading around as they were inspired by the League’s ‘mission.’ Even when I saw your face on the news numerous times, I never thought ill of you. I only wished that you were okay.”

Bakugou bit his bottom lip, trying to suppress the emotions he was holding in. He laughed once again, his signature smirk back on his face. “Now that the fucker who fucked us both over’s in prison, you’re officially single, right?”

You rolled your eyes, not surprised that he had ruined the moment by bringing up your atrocious ex-boyfriend. “Yes. The fact that you need to ask me that is annoying.”

Bakugou scoffed. “Just wanted to make sure before I did this.”

Before you could question him, Bakugou closed the even smaller gap between the two of you as he gingerly brought his lips to your own. You felt your body relax, your hands traveling around his neck and latching around him. His own hands found their way behind your back, pulling you even closer to him. Eventually he leaned back on the couch, hoisting you onto his lap and having you straddle him. He didn’t want to waste any time, annoyed that you had cut the previous kiss short because of Natsuya. 

But unlike the last time, Natsuya was the last person on your mind. All you could think of was Bakugou and his lips moving earnestly against yours. There wasn’t any pent up frustration or any other malicious feelings involved in this kiss. All you wanted was to be in his arms for as long as possible. 

This time Bakugou pulled away, peering back into your (E/C) eyes. You smiled, planting a kiss on his temple and pressing your forehead against his. “You’re not running away from me this time. I’m never letting you go, never again.”

Bakugou smirked, kissing you once again. “Looks like I’ll have to try harder then.”

You laughed, pulling away from him and leaning against his arms that were on your waist to hold you in his lap. You cupped his face in your hands. “I love you, Bakugou Katsuki. I’ve loved you for so long. It’s always been you, no one else.”

Bakugou’s felt the heat rising to his face as his cheeks flushed in a pink color. His smirk returned to his lips, pulling you in closer once more. “Damn right. And I love you.” You smiled, kissing him again and again and again.

For months you searched for what you could do with all the time that you had. Retired heroes approached you with various ideas and hobbies that they did once stepping down from their heroic jobs but none of them piqued your interest. You wanted something that could make you truly happy. And you had finally found it.

What made you truly happy was being beside Bakugou Katsuki, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tagging: @chims-kookies​​ @bokunoheroes-stories​​ @iamthe-leaf​​ @simplysymphonic​​ @mylittlesunshineblog​​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​​ @sunflowerchild27​​ @geesshoku​​ @ghoularaki​​ @katsukiwonu​​ @kotakingly​​ @tyongflight​​ @sparkexplosive​​ @minniepresents​​ @thorohdamnson​​ @icy-hot​​ @bikinibrattoms​ @life-is-not-daijobu​

[tellywoodtrash]

immj2 09.04.21 lb

vansh's dumb ass rushing off to that random address he saw. like......... are you even checking on google maps ki kya area hai, is it conducive to having a secret person stashed there as a hostage? pata chala udhar tak pohunch gaye aur ek big bazaar hai.

ishani tripping riddhima as she runs into the house. such middle school bitchidity.

and now some interrogation of really wtf are you and vansh bhai upto all the time, coz no normal ppl can understand wtf your relationship dynamic is anymore.

blah blah some dhamki on dadi ko pata challllllllllll gaya toh??????

idc about this scene except for ishani looking hot af. i love her shirt dress and red lipstick. style icon.

anyway riddhima promises answers in 24 hours and fucks off.

lol vansh reached destination and from the looks of it, it's an empty lot. lmaooooooooooooo, fucking idiot. pehle hi bola tha maine, check kar udhar hai kya.

riddhima meanwhile steals the black box, which changes how it looks every single day.

calls vyom and is like i did my part of the deal, now your turn. they arrange the drop.

lmao vansh comes home to empty safe. follows her as she goes and dumps it in the recycling bins and tells vyom to pick it up.

hoodie waale kisine aake pick up kar diya. which i'm sure is not vyom, but angre/someone else instead.

ew vansh rootin around in the garbage bin for the box. sees it's gone and is all smirkily "INTERESTINGGGGGGG VERYYYYYYYY INTERESTINGGGG" about it. ok either box iske aadmi ne uthaaya hai ya woh asli waala black box nahi tha. warna yeh itna khush nahi hota.

ugh siya is video calling vyom and all WHYYYY CAN'T I COME SEEEE YOUUUUUUUUUUU?!?!!? i promiseeeee i won't disturb you while you work, i'll just keep looking at you and listening to you. what the ever loving fuck? behen, the relationship you're describing is the one ppl have with animals in zoos. yuck i actually cannot watch this shit man, i'm fwding.

anyway riddhima walks in hearing his voice from siya's room. ek toh yeh kaun bewakoof hai jo apne secret bf se BINA HEADPHONES ke baat karta hai? ffs, 6th graders doing aashiqui better than these fucks.

riddhima yelling at siya about getting involved with shunya circle zero man, while siya yelling back about how did YOUUUUUU see my earring with him, why are YOUUUU meeting him huh?!!?? and vyom is just there on the call like

riddhima trying to warn siya ki he's not a good man............. sis kabhi apne relationships ko dekha hai???? you're running on full 100% in the dept. of having romantic relationships with psychopathic men who try to injure/kill you on a weekly basis.

asdkjsakjdhksajdhksajhdkj i honestly am vyom in this sitch, who's enjoying this convo to the maxxxxxxxx. zoom call par baithe kisi aur ke ghar ka kalesh dekhne ka mazzzaaaa hi kuch aur hai.

angre losing his mind about riddhima stealing the box and vansh is all cool which meansssss........ nakli tha. for sure. shoulda known when we saw it looked diff itself.

lmaooooooooooooooo black box ko orange paint kar ke rakha hua hai iss chutiye ne. and he's bragging about how no one can open it without the key.

meanwhile peeth pe key waali didi andar jhaank ke spying kar rahi hai, as per usual.

kabir over here like main riddhima riddhima chillaaunga, banyaan phaad ke........... guard has had enough of his shit and tells him to stfu.

someone from outside hears this chillam-chilli and calls the police. wow, a responsible citizen, in this show?????????? unbohlievable.

cut to riddhima walking into bedroom (in whole new outfit; huh??? is it a whole other day suddenly?????) which is decorated like a mixture of a grade school on valentine's day + the set of a suhaag raat porno, lmao. husband is also in here, in his red velvet suit, giving her bhaaaaari sex eyes.

riddhima's thinking lagta hai issko pata nahi chala ke maine naak ke neeche se box udaa liya, warne yeh saare phool meri arthiiii pe chadhte.

this b has some nerve talking to siya about her "dangerous relationship" with that shirtless bhopuuuu player when her own husband/said chick's elder brother is a quasi-murderer they live with.

LMAO THEIR WHOLEASS BED IS GONE. ABHI SESK KAHAAN KAROGE? IS CHHOTE SE DINING TABLE PAR? ouff, they must still be in their 20s if they don't require proper lumbar support.

gives her a rose, ofc she pricks herself on a thorn, and nowwwww.... he's sucking on her finger. I'M SORRY THIS IS NOT ROMANTIC OR SEXY AT ALLLLLLLLLLLLL. SHE DIDN'T EVEN WASH HER HANDS AFTER COMING INTO THE ROOM!!!!!!!!!! FUCKERS GONNA START SOME INCURABLE PANDEMIC OF THEIR OWN LIKE THIS.

she's all ohohohoho dard bhi tum, dawa bhi tum huh? and he's like yeah babyyyyyyyyyy, coz tum poori ki poori meriiiiiii ho.

ok the sexy is getting scary now. as is on par with this fucker. never a moment where heart rate can be at resting rate with him. and not in a good way.

she's telling him she wants to tell him something, give him some surprise....... and he's like.... ok? and they slow dance while making shakki faces at each other's back.

kabirrrrrrr stillllllllll screaming for riddhima. guard finally calls her and makes him speak to her. she's like bitch tf you want i was about to get laidddddd.........

kabir suddenly in i love you i love you mode. shady. kal tak toh yeh gaana nahi chal raha tha??? *acp pradyuman hand motion* kuch toh gadbad hai.

whoopsssssssssss, police is here. guard is like fuck someone musta called hearing this dude's ruckus.

kabir is like mwahahahahahaha, your game is over now. police will find meeeeee and freeeeee meeeee.

lmaoooooooooo she talks to the police and says ki woh jo chila raha hai, mera mentally unstable bhai hai, toh bas...... inspector is like SAY NO MORE MA'AM, WE DON'T WANNA CHECK ON THE MENTALLY ILL, THAT'S A YOU PROBLEM, NOT AN US PROBLEM AS A SOCIETY, SO GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR CRAZY BRO, BYEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

anyway she's like listen up kabir, my deal is over, i'll tell vansh the truth and then you'll be free. so part of the deal with vyom is to keep kabir locked up???????? hein? what even.........

kabir freaking out about riddhima telling vansh the truth, and keeps on saying he'll murder her........ DUDE WHAT THIS SORDID TRUTH ANYWAY IM SO DONE JUST OUT WITH IT ALREADY

vansh comes outta the bathroom shirtless and............... lollipop ladki is here sexily breaking wine glasses in his bedroom. zero boundaries up in this house. NONE WHATSOEVER.

ok sorry i'm not paying attn to anything being said rn coz

lollipop ladki is like why not we drink from one glass and he's like 🤨🤨🤨

wifey's here to spoil the party.

or to make it better????????? coz lol she's like make it three glasses of wine! won't you invite me to whatever's going on???? she looks waaaay more into lollipop ladki than vansh is, which would be the best possible development to riddhima's character.

vansh like hein aise kaise you stealing girl away from meeeeee, and telling lollipop girl ki why don't you and i just chug from the bottle?

cursory invitation to riddhima too.......... man, why is this giving heavy threesome vibes???

riddhima like "no thanks, mujhe do se zyaada hont ek bottle par achche nahi lagte." alksjdlaskjdlsakjdlsajkdlaksjdlka

vansh: achche toh mujhe bhi nahi lagte.

riddhima: par lagta hai tumhe toh kisi ke bhi chalenge.

OUCHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

lmaoooooooo now these two are just having their own petty pati-patni fight filled with vague statements about trust and misunderstandings, and lollipop girl is just here like

precap: riddhima about to tell vansh the whole truth or whatever, when vyom calls and is like wtf you gave me a fake black box. riddhima and vansh are once again fighting about truth and dhoka and like.......... bro. idc anymore. someone take your shirt off to make this worth my while.

[thoughtsofthegalaxy]

Loneliness Knows Me By Name.

Is the title familiar to you? That’s because it’s a song by Westlife. Very much underrated, but still a great song. And I’m not just saying that because I love the band. I mean, I do, but it’s more because it’s one of their songs that I can personally relate to the most. Give it a try. Tell me what you think. Here’s the link.

I’m an introvert. And as far as my experience with introverts go, people like me usually have problems with… socializing. But we’re not here to talk about other people. We’re here to talk about my experience. If you can relate to this, then good for you. (I’d say let’s shake hands, but COVID.)

I don’t think I’ve ever had someone I can actually call my ‘friend’. I mean, sure I’ve had ‘friends’ back in school. But guess how many of them actually stuck with me up to this day? Zero. Nada. After the studying era, they’re all just… gone. I don’t have that someone you can talk to on a daily basis, share random stuff with, and actually care and look out for you. It’s like I’m invisible to them already. Except when it’s someone’s birthday or it’s convenient. Usually for them. Me? I’m just sitting here. Waiting. Hoping.

My parents always tell me to reach out to my so-called ‘friends’. I only say yes, but I don’t actually do it. How can an introvert just simply reach out to those who make them feel invisible? Unwanted or unwelcome?

I think most of the people in my life could be accurately considered as ‘acquaintances’. You know, you know them, you interact with them, but usually after one time or two, it just stops. And it’s months or years again before you get in touch with them.

To some people, it may be easy. They may be like, “We don’t care if we don’t interact everyday. Whenever we do, it’s like nothing’s changed.” If that’s the case for you, then I’m happy for you. Sadly, it’s not the case for me. 

Y’all know why it’s hard for me to simply just contact them and ask them how they’re doing? It’s because I’ve already tried. I don’t know if it’s not enough, or if it’s too much. But I did. So many times. And still, no one cared. No one listened. No one stayed.

Take my physical interactions, for example. Hell, I ain’t gonna go far. Let’s go with my situation here at home. You’d think being an only child is easy because you’ll have all their attention. Nooooooo.

You’ll be surprised if I say how many times I’ve tried speaking up to a family of four, and yet no one either listened nor let me finish. When they notice that they’ve actually interrupted or ignored me, they’ll go “Oh, sorry. You were saying?” and of course, the moment has already passed. The want to share my thoughts or express myself has already passed. So, I’ll only be like “No, it’s nothing important, don’t worry.” or I’d repeat my statement but with much less enthusiasm.

I love my family. I do. They’re the only constant people in my life, though I don’t know if I’d consider them ‘friends’ because I still don’t tell them everything. But they’re there, so I acknowledge and appreciate it, anyway.

Let’s go with people outside of home. Schoolmates. Blockmates. I considered them my friends because at that time, we all had some things in common. Similar struggles, too, at some point. You know that common ‘dream’ of wishing they’d be your friends for the rest of your lives.

Well, I learned the hard way that not everyone gets to experience that. I don’t know if you’d consider this lucky or sad, but even before graduation, I already knew that they weren’t the types of people who’d stay with me. The most recent ‘friends’ I had were my blockmates back in college. And they treated me so badly, it traumatized me. It led me to the point where I had breakdowns in school because of how bad my anxiety was from simply being with them. But of course, they didn’t know that. They don’t know that. Because after each breakdown, I go out and plaster a stupid, fake smile on my face and go about the rest of my day.

For my high school ‘friends’, they’re okay. They're closer with one another than I am with them because they’ve had the group for longer before I joined in, and I understood that. What I didn’t—don’t understand is why whenever they want to gather and hang out, they never include me. I’ll only know that they saw one another through some of their Instagram stories. And even then, they don’t at least mention to me that they planned something ahead or even after.

Of course, like any millennial, I also have online friends. I met them through Twitter. And boy, you wouldn’t want to know my experiences on Twitter. It was hell. I’m a fangirl by hobby, but the people I’ve interacted with only brought me more pain. It’s actually even worse, sometimes. Because I can’t see their actions, so I hold onto them through their words. And boy, what promising words they were.

It’s crazy, knowing they made such promises like that but when I started struggling so badly with my mental health, they’re all gone. When I said I only needed a little time to myself to think things over, they never came back. When I was ready again, there was no one there anymore. Suddenly, I was all alone.

Don’t even get me started on relationships. I’m just not good at those. Whether it’s my fault or theirs. Nothing just ever sticks. Period.

Anyway, it got me thinking. With all this… trauma (for the lack of a better term) that I have with other people, maybe I’m really destined to be lonely after all. Yeah, you’ll probably say, “You’re only 23. You’re freaking young. You’ll meet someone.” And I get that. Hell, I’m even welcoming the thought. But from all the things I experienced so far in my 23 years of existence, I’d say I’m done looking. I’m done trying. If anyone comes, then thank God and them for saving me. But if no one does, then by all means, hello, single-blessed life.

Anyway, if you read this long-ass post ‘til the end, thank you. if you can relate to this, feel free to reach out to me. I won’t bite, I promise. :D

XoXo, A. <3

Pic cred.: Pinterest

[ketsuyuki-hibana-typed]

I always portrait Yoriichi as the sunshine version of Giyuu. Looks like an op character but actually a simple dumb-dork and also a big fan of his brother.

Tsugikuni Yoriichi x Reader (Domestic ModernAU)

Yoriichi is a professional in architecture, and you work as biology teacher.

You could say that he's that 'noble family but decided to take normal society path'. But it's actually not really dramatic, he just decided to stood with his own feet and building family from zero with you.

He has unique personality, people at his work really thought that he has undefeatable charismatic, competent, compassionate, kind, equitable, and decisive.

Pft.

You knew the real him and even if you bet ten thousand yen, people would never trust you, despite the fact that you're his wife. He just a dork for you and his brother.

We will soon know, how 'ridiculous' his true self will be.

In the morning, he always wakes up first but never woke you up. He said that he didn't has heart to wake you up when he saw your sleeping face. But sometimes, he'll wake you up if it's really late, which is not really helping.

You're the one who cooked breakfast, but sometimes he helped you but you always ended up tell him to sit back.

"The bacon is screaming", "You cook the child of its mother.", "Bread is just a floated wheat."

"Ok stop, let me handle this before you brought me to existential crisis."

You're the one who comb his hair, chose his suit, matched his necktie with the pin, and elses. He didn't suck at stylings, he just prefers you to do it instead of him.

You usually went to workplace with him, but sometimes if he's busy, you'll choose to ride the train.

His friends often invited him to have lunch at nearest restaurant but since you always made lunch for him, he didn't want to join them and eat your homemade lunch instead. His friends told him that he could ditch his wife's lunch but then he said,

"She made efforts in making this, I couldn't waste it."

But sometimes, you told him it's okay to go with them.

For some reason, Tokitou siblings at your school knew about Michikatsu and Yoriichi. You don't know why but every time you crossed with them, they always told you to be careful of Michikatsu.

But Michikatsu always being nice to both you and Yoriichi, so you just shrugged them off.

Both of you almost didn't have time to meet each other on daily days, so those 'lovely' moments in the drama often didn't happen on your daily life, but you satisfied with what are you now even after years being married. He still made sure to made you happy by buying you cakes, limited edition Pocky, various of KitKats and other foods when he came home.

Also, the main reason why you gained weight fast.

Sumiyoshi, Yoriichi's co-worker, often talked with you.

"(y/n)-san, Yoriichi-san really loves you more than anything else."

"Well... I'm his wife after all."

"Yes, I know! But I've never saw someone who really loves his wife from the bottom of their heart like this. He always brought your handmade handkerchief everywhere, set your photo in front of presentation slide as introduction, made a mini 'place' where he could place his keychains, manjuu doll, mochikororin, rubber straps, pins assembled with you as the model on his desk, plus-"

"Wait, Sumiyoshi-san. I'm concerned. He became an otaku me. I had to talk with him about this."

Yoriichi probably the smartest man in this country, but sometimes he forgot about 'common senses'.

"Hun, what are you doing?" You saw him looked in trouble.

"I'm trying to open the pen cap. It didn't work." He looked confused on the pen.

"Let me see."

"Here, if I can't, you can't-"

"....it's a ballpoint."

"..."

"You just spin it like-"

"I know."

"... sure."

Or when he didn't know how to use common things.

"(y/n), what is that?"

"It's vending machi- WAIT YOU DON'T KNOW VENDING MACHINE?" He shrugged.

"How to use it? Can you open the front glass like refrigerator do? Is it free?"

"No- Geez, you put the money, like this. And then-" You spend your evening to explain him on how to use a vending machine. He was amazed on how its work and how well you present it as what he called 'Future machine.'

"It's superb. We are one step ahead to the future. The distribution of drinks are easy now."

"I don't know why I'm married to you."

Dates? Do outdoor activities such hiking count as dating? The answer is yes, at least for both of you. You often went to the mountain with him for fishing at nearest lake. It wasn't far from your home, so you never complained.

While fishing, you sat on his lap and reading your book. He put his chin on your head.

"Wait, don't flip it yet, I haven't finish the 2 paragraphs."

"I thought you concentrate on the fishing?"

"I could do both task."

"Sure, King. Sure."

When you're lazy to prepare the picnics, he's fine with just staying at home and watched his favourite TV show with you beside him. You usually put your legs or your heads on his laps while doing something or simply watching the TV too.

"Ok, Quizzy Time! I have 2 questions and each answers had to be one and different. The last question will be your true wish!! Now, let's start!!"

Yoriichi slightly bended his body, eagerly focusing on the TV. You eyed him while playing with your phone.

'Is being cute legal for my husband.'

"Who is the person you wanted to protect most?"

"Big Brother."

"Who is the person you loved the most?"

"My wife."

You snorted.

"And last, if you had to choose one person between those two who will you choose?"

He started to sweat and looked at you. You looked at him while smiling, "Is there something bothering you, hun?"

"Uh, uhm-"

"Now, tell that person, you love them!!"

He fidgeted, looking at you again. You just wanted to bursting out laugh. He became panicked, between dilemma if he should call Michikatsu or tell you.

"(y/n), I know you're my wife, but-" He started to push his brother contact on his phone. "I also wanted him to know."

"Oh, so you choose him over me." You started to tease him.

"No! You got this wrong!!"

"Oh now you yell at me."

He became frustrated. Before he started to break down, you sat down and hugged him, "Haha, just kidding!! Don't sweat it, it's a dumb TV program- Oh my God, don't cry!!!"

Yoriichi didn't want you to be far away from him at home, especially when he did works. He will call your name and told you to stay in the same room with him. Even though his face didn't say too much, you immediately knew that he'll be sad if you're not there when he was at home. Like that one time.

Michikatsu was calling you when you're shopping for dinner.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me. Uh, are you divorced with Yoriichi?" His statement made you dropped a can of tuna from your hand.

"What? No!! What do you mean?!"

"Yoriichi said it. He said that you leave him."

"I'm??? Going to the supermarket??"

"...I'm sorry, my brother is being a troublesome for you." He cut the phone.

When you're home, you found Yoriichi laid down on the sofa. You called his name, and he looked at you.

"I was being scolded by brother."

"Of course you are, geez." You sat beside him. "I'm just going for errands. I'm not ignoring or leaving you."

"You didn't leave message."

"I do, look at your phone."

"..."

You let out a long sigh, but then you hugged him. "Do you want me to stay when you did your work on your laptop?" He nodded.

"Fine, but help me with the dinner, and don't say anything. Just obey what I told you to do." He nodded again happily like a puppy.

He likes to spooning you. He always asked if he could kiss you even though you've been married for a long time. He's often saying that kissing you on your lips is really felt good, and became a little bit 'addicted' about it.

He didn't say much about himself, he never confide you how his feelings unless you asked him. But he loves to hear your stories about your works and students on random occasion like bathing, eating dinner, sitting on sofa, and even casual walks.

And do not start about how many times he said that he didn't deserve you when both of you are about to sleep and cuddling on bed.

"I am man of no wor-" You clasped both of his cheeks and pinched it.

"Say that again, and I will end your life for real."

"But I already end up with you."

"You have no rights to say negativity and flirting at the same time."

He probably had that unchanged expression on daily basis, but when you're by his side?

A content smile will always formed on his lips

[popculturebuffet]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

8. Everybody Dance: Another fun number. 

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

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

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

9. The Beach: Donald Gets Creeptacular

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

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

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

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

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

So yeah we thankfully conclude the film after that with 

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

You always say that! So...

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

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

[erazonpo3]

It’s Era talks about topic of the day time, but I’m gonna do so in a way that’s more about our broader cultural perspectives on moral philosophy and how it relates to the narratives we tell. So

The topic of the Redemption Arc is one that’s come up in a big way pretty recently, and so the debate emerges- what makes a good redemption arc? I’m not really interested in answering that question. 

But what I will argue is that, as others have said before, a character should not have to endure suffering as a prerequisite for being redeemed; it is not necessary for their growth, it is not beneficial for their victims or the greater good, and encouraging it as a necessary part of a Redemption narrative (note that writers choosing to create conflict throughout a redemption arc can be a valid narrative decision) is just indulging in a sense of sadism that utilises a westernised conceptualisation of ‘justice’ to see a character they don’t like get put through the wringer before they can ‘earn’ love or compassion. 

I get it, the antagonist was an antagonist for a reason, and they probably did shitty things and you as an audience member are allowed to choose not to empathise with them (even though most narratives these days are driven by emotional character arcs that encourage empathy and compassion as a core value), or you can choose to empathise with them but still condemn them and their actions. However, what I’m going to go into in more detail is the fact that your personal feelings about an antagonist in a narrative don’t really hold any weight because the redemption narrative requires just as much empathy for the people who were affected by the antagonist’s actions just as much as it requires empathy for the antagonist themselves.

And if those characters choose forgiveness? You don’t get to argue the point because you prefer to frame justice as punishment for the wrongdoer rather than empowerment for the victim, in whatever form that may take. So here’s my extended take: if an antagonist suffering in order to earn their happy ending is more important to you than the good that comes out of a redemption, consider that no. 

Part 1 - We live in a society

There’s no easy way to break it to you, but I’m afraid we live in a society. Namely a Western society that is dominated largely by Christian cultural influences and authoritative bodies of governments with legal structures that are built on colonialism. Considering that western nations around the globe have historically dragged their feet in making changes like “human rights apply to all humans”, it’s fair to say this isn’t a great basis for our foundation of morality. 

I should also say that Christianity as a faith does not equal bad, but contemporary Christianity in modern society has an exorbitant focus on the fear of damnation, which goes hand in hand with the legal system as a form of coercive power. Furthermore I should clarify, I’m not saying laws are bad; I’m saying that a good thing is not good because it is law, and a law is not good because it is law. The authoritative bodies of western society rely on the fear of punitive justice for misdeeds rather than an encouragement of charity and cooperation because law and order is easier to maintain through fear than generosity. 

But I’m not here to make a statement about society, because that’s its whole own essay, but what I can say is that our moral codes are best made on our own terms and not by the people with a vested interest in keeping us lawful, because historically their idea of lawful is “you’re only human if you meet certain conditions”. Like, the government of my own country mailed me a non-legally-binding ballot to ask me if I thought letting people get gay married was a good idea. They’re not the people I’m letting dictate my morality to me, alright. 

Anyway the whole point of this section is to remind you that your ethical foundations likely come from institutional groups that encourage you to believe that justice = suffering, because people are scared of suffering, and people who are scared are easy to control. 

Part 2 - Redemption, and who gets to decide who gets it

I’m going to answer that right here right now- probably not you. That’s right! Even when we’re dealing with narratives, where the people are fake, it’s not really up to you to decide who gets to have their happy ending and who doesn’t if you’re not the person writing the thing. If you want that power… write the thing. 

But what you should also keep in mind is that redemption narratives usually start with a character recognising that they’ve done the wrong thing, expressing regret for that- which ideally leads to them never doing the thing again. From a purely pragmatic standpoint, this is the point in which everyone has to step back and remove their feelings from the situation and consider the bigger picture. You can give zero dogshits about an antagonist, but if you’re going to pretend to be a good and moral person you should probably consider their victims, be they direct or indirect. 

Starting with the indirect, we consider all the people who are part of this world’s society. I’m now going to introduce you to some fancy macroeconomics terminology called positive externalities and net social good. The principle is simple: when the government pays for somebody’s education and they go on to become a doctor, I benefit from this transaction despite having nothing to do with this because doctors good. The positive externality is that I benefit when the government pays for someone else’s education, and the net social good is that everyone else benefits as well.  

When it comes to crime, the general idea is that an offender who can be reformed and rehabilitated is less likely to commit future crimes once they’ve served their time, so any rehabilitation efforts contribute to net social good. Of course I have to state here that life is far more complicated than a simple black and white model of crime > reform > good, but the general idea is that where society can see improvement, an effort must be made to ensure said improvement. You don’t get to derail a net social positive in a demand for righteous justice because you said so.

Demanding righteous justice even when there’s no benefit to society is how you get the death penalty remaining in 28 US states- despite being incredibly inefficient and expensive compared to life-without-parole sentencing (and who knows how many incorrect verdicts that can never be reversed)- as a result. Yay. 

Moving on to the direct victims, you have to accept that these characters with personal stakes are likely going to have different reactions to their antagonist depending on the severity of the circumstances and their own characterisation, moral code etc. Reflecting real life, narratives give us an array of characters who have different ethical standpoints and responses to their situations. And if a character decides to forgive their antagonist? Hey ho you don’t get to be the one who says “actually, no-”. 

Forgiveness is a kind of forgotten virtue of mental health these days, in no small part due to misguided advice from people who have no idea what they’re talking about. Forgiveness means very different things to very different people. There are people who can forgive the murderers of their family. There are people who hold grudges about the pettiest shit imaginable. Forgiveness isn’t a slap-a-bandaid on answer to finding closure, but when it is applicable it is incredibly empowering. 

When you are an audience member projecting your emotions onto a protagonist, of course it’s easy to say “I’d just hate that person forever!” because you’re not the one who carries that burden. Hating people is exhausting. Unless they’re doing societal harm, it’s probably not worth the emotional investment to hate them. If you can find closure through forgiveness, it’s not up to anyone else to tell you that that person doesn’t deserve it or that you’re a pushover because of that. Mental health comes first. 

It’s personal anecdote time, so here’s a small warning for mentions of sexual assault. Obviously I’m not going to go into the details because that’s weird and unnecessary, but what you need to know is that there were two different incidents with two different endings. Person A went on with their lives as I went on with mine and I don’t know how they feel about the incident but based on what I know of them, I’m not given reason to assume they regret it. Person B was a friend who hurt me in a pretty ugly way but immediately regretted what they’d done and gave me a very sincere apology both straight after and later again to assure me they understood what they’d done wrong. I forgave them, because I valued their friendship and I cared about them and I trusted that they were sincere, and I don’t regret that decision. 

Because between the person who worked to be in a place where I was comfortable to forgive them and the person who will never give me that chance, which do you think gave me any kind of satisfying closure?

The point of that anecdote isn’t to say every character has to be like me. It’s a perfectly valid reaction for someone to say “you’ve worked hard to be a better person and I’m glad for that but I’ll still never be able to forgive you for what you did to me” because I’ve been there as well. Forgiveness isn’t the key to a prior antagonist’s redemption arc because their self improvement should be entirely self-driven and not reliant on another person. However I argue that a prior antagonist should be allowed to work towards redemption to provide their victim a sense of agency- if forgiveness comes with conditions, they should strive to meet those conditions. 

And that’s the crux of the matter. 

A redemption for the sake of the character being redeemed is only one part of a big picture about recovering from trauma. They should strive to be a better person for their own sake and for the sake of others, so that their redemption serves as a net social good. They should strive to be a better person so that the people they’ve hurt might be able to find closure in the fact that they’re trying hard to be a person who can be forgiven, whether or not those victims actually choose forgiveness or not. 

Forcing a character to suffer for your own vindictive self-righteousness deprives this outcome, denies the victims their agency and closure, creates a neutral or negative externality in which the prior antagonist either performs no future good or goes back down a path of criminality, all because you believe they deserve to suffer more than you want actual justice. 

And that’s, like, bad.

[joontier]

“One-Love”| CH. 2 - The Newcomer

–> Summary: Love translates to zero in the tennis scoring system – the only thing keeping the scoreless player on the court is his love for the game.

–> Pairings: jung hoseok x female reader; kim seokjin x female reader

–> Rating: NC17

–> Genre/warnings: tennis player hoseok! au; tennis player seokjin! au; crazy rich asians inspired! au; fluff, humor (as usual), eventual smut; more warnings as the story progresses

–> Words: 2.4k

–> A/N: Words that are both in bold and italics are spoken in Korean

“One-Love” Masterlist

Chapter 2: The Newcomer

“Jung Hoseok!”

He doesn’t even spare you a glance when he runs past you, letting out an evil cackle. “That’s right! Run away before I catch up Jung!”

“Ah your Korean is improving! I wish your legs would too!”

Tennis lessons with Hoseok are on a daily basis now: mornings with him during Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and you spend afternoons with him during the remaining days. Although Hoseok won’t be able to beat you in a game anytime soon, the boy is continuously working on his ground shots and is making daily progress.

Hoseok’s regular training has not only drastically improved his skills but also your father’s tennis clinic. For some reason, your cheeky stranger-turned-friend had convinced at least twenty more people to play tennis, both students and parents alike. Soon enough, your dad’s tennis clinic was flourishing. All six courts at Thames were fully-booked during mornings and afternoons.

When Hoseok initially expressed his intention to train daily, it had worried your father because he knew daily practice could easily burn Hoseok out and eventually stop playing altogether and for Hoseok was not worth the risk, especially for someone like him who has shown so much potential in such a short period of time.

Hoseok was relentless nevertheless, constantly convincing your father to have his trainings scheduled on a daily basis. As much as your father enjoys teaching the sport he loves the most, he always prioritizes his students’ well-being before anything else.

When you had asked Hoseok about it, he was undecided if he had plans of going professional. All he knew was that he wanted to take his training seriously, wherever it may take him in the future. He had the markings of a true athlete – passionate and determined, but in this discipline, you can only get so far without support (and later on, sponsors).

Your father then advised Hoseok to voice this concern to his parents to help him decide. The boy came to practice one afternoon, his mother trailing behind him and both clad in a matching all-white ensemble just like when you first saw Hoseok. Mrs. Jung, unsurprisingly just as bright as her son, was smiling the whole way though. “Well, Hobi talks so much about it that I wanted to try it for myself too,” she jokes as Hoseok shows her around and introduces her to the rest of the group.

Hoseok leaves his mother with your dad for the meanwhile while he gets his warm-ups done. She tells him on, telling stories of how her son would come home all sticky from practice, sharing what he had done both at school and during training. “Truth is…” she starts, watching her son jog laps around the court, “…I’ve never seen my son so happy before. He’s even doing better in school nowadays! I know he’s already smart but he’s definitely different now…”

“Your son is very smart, Mrs. Jung,” you can’t help but attest her statement. It’s the truth anyways and you’re going to support you friend all the way.

“Ah you must be ________!” Mrs. Jung extends her arm out and you return the gesture. “Oh you’re too sweet. No wonder Hobi lik—”

“Mom!” Hoseok cuts in quickly, chuckling nervously. “Sorry, she gets carried away all the time.” He pulls her away from where you and your dad were standing, muttering about learning basic stretching routines and spreading rumors as he drags her away.

-

“Seokjin Kim,” Nadia mutters from where she’s seated from the bleachers, only a meter away from where you’re standing in the court. With one hand holding up the cookie she’s munching on, the other sweeps away the crumbs that fall on the glossy pages of her book.

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seokjin Kim!” Her voice gets louder, catching the attention of a few students who were passing by. She points with a chocolate chip-stained finger to the boy who’s drawing attention to himself with his unforeseen talent.

“Seokjin Kim – one year ahead, owns two penthouses at Narra Residences aka just the most expensive residential building in this country? Shipping magnate? Kim Logistics? DM Forwarding Services? Surely, you’ve heard one of those names…” You don’t answer, not following where she’s this conversation was heading. “…right?” She purses her lips at you, ‘tsk’-ing at your lack of knowledge on these ‘basic’ things.  Honestly, you haven’t been paying much attention to what she’s telling you for the past minute, but who could possibly have?

His broad shoulders alone are enough to demand attention. You honestly would have mistaken him for a swimmer than a tennis player with the sheer broadness of it. The boy unbelievably has sharp features too for someone who is allegedly around your age. Strong brows, cat-like eyes, and those lips, god! You don’t even want to start on those plump lips, how wonderful it must feel to touch them with the pads of your fingers, how soft they must be against your slightly calloused fingers. As if on cue, the stranger lets his tongue poke out a little to moisten those glorious lips that it takes such a great effort from you not to gasp.

Nearly inhuman face aside, you are at awe at how he hits the ball with such power. Almost all his shots land near the baseline. For once you see Agus, one of the lead instructors, return them with slight struggle. For now, tennis at Thames was viewed as more of additional fitness regime for students and parents alike. Thames wasn’t known for homing aspiring tennis players, though that was ought to change when your dad came to the school. That’s why when Seokjin readies himself for a serve, you see Agus move a few steps behind the baseline, feet shuffling – one thing latter the only does when he’s nervous.

Admittedly, there was still obviously plenty to work on – Seokjin’s forehand is comparatively weak, his slices only land with pure luck but this new kid’s backhand and serves are fatal. He makes up the lack of spin with his strength, which is by the way, evidenced by the expanse of skin afforded by his sleeveless dry-fit top where his toned arms are on full display.

Surely this boy couldn’t possibly be a year older than you as mentioned by Nadia? With a face and body like that?  

“Well honey, let me fill you in on the basics. Seokjin Kim, one of two heirs of shipping magnate Hyungjin Kim. Nearing a century in the industry, Kim Logistics is one of the leading multinational logistics company, supporting global trade in over a hundred countries and servicing the world through eighty thousand employees. Kim Logistics has monopolized the shipping industry particularly in Asia where the shortened name ‘KimLo’ has been declared a household name for forwarding services.”

You let out a puff of air, breathless even though Nadia did all the speaking. How she learned all this information was beyond you. “On top of that, his dad is included in Forbes Korea’s Top 20.”

“Who are you talking about?” The same question is heard for the second time today, this time by Hoseok who sets his tennis bag down beside a sighing Nadia. “Do y’all even know a single soul in this campus?”

“Nope. Sorry who are you again?”

“Hey! I just got here!”  

As Hoseok rummages through his bag for his shoes, you tell him about the newcomer, Nadia reluctantly filling in the details you couldn’t remember. Just like you, Hoseok doesn’t really pay attention to what this Seokjin dude has to offer, how much his family was worth, or what damned list his father is on. He watches you watch the newcomer with such fascination, wondering if you find him attractive or you were just curious. Undoubtedly, Seokjin Kim was truly a sight to behold, that he can admit to himself but will never say out loud, not when there’s going to be another guy who could possibly steal all your attention.

You don’t even notice that he’s gotten braces.

If it wasn’t obvious enough, Hoseok has been harboring quite the crush on you. His mother knows, his best friend Namjoon knows, Jimin knows (for some reason, the now eight-year-president has the sense for these things), twins Jason and Jake from tennis know, heck, even Mickey, the family dog, probably knows he likes you! Obviously like the coward that he is, there is absolutely no way he’s going to confess his feelings, not when you’re already great friends. He’s already decided that your friendship is worth more than a romantic one.

Soon enough, your father calls you both to the court for practice. You both bid Nadia goodbye, who decides it’s time for to her to go home and finish some school work. Your dad waves, gesturing for you to come over where he is, now standing beside Seokjin. Hoseok’s heart clenches when you greet the new guy, jealousy adding to the pain brought about by the new installments on his teeth. Nevertheless, he follows suit, flashing Seokjin a smile. When you finally notice his braces, you give him a flick on his forearm, gesturing to the brackets on his teeth. Hoseok’s stance straightens at this, chest puffing out lightly before you both head off to do your warm-ups.

After your warm-ups with him, Hoseok barely got to talk to you during practice.

Your father has made you do a practice set with the newcomer. You win the grueling match with a tight score of 7-5, a set that lasted for an hour and has every one on the courts on edge. The afternoon training sessions had already ended halfway through your match and nearly all of the trainees present became spectators. Although Seokjin had won the first two games, you had managed to catch up, nerves wearing out. Seokjin was strong and agile but you outsmarted him, returning his shots to his forehand and tiring him out by making him run all over.

You were… for lack of a more appropriate word, exhausted. Every fiber of your muscle was on fire, you were sweating more than you did in a sauna, and you were gasping for breath after every game. At four all, you had completely lost track of scoring, fully depending on the umpire. Truthfully, you were doubtful that you could score a game against Seokjin, let alone beat him.

You had lost hope the moment your father told you to play a set with the Seokjin.  

You knew this set wasn’t only to see how Seokjin plays – his strengths and weaknesses but this match was also a critical point at your father’s reputation. There were plenty of people watching, more from those who were on their way home from their afternoon activities. If you would win, your father’s credibility could be strengthened, despite having just half of the strength Seokjin possesses. You didn’t even want to think about the consequences of losing.

Hoseok could see right through the façade you were putting up during the first games – you were anxious. You talked less, you barely smiled and if you did, it looked forced. The rest of the spectators looked just as intense as you and Seokjin: muted, save the resonating sound of the fuzzy ball hitting against the strings of the racket. Hoseok rummages through his bag and takes out his two iPads and clicks on the Notes applications. The umpire calls for a water break, the perfect opportunity. He holds both gadgets on his hands whooping and cheering for you.

‘If it were easy I would do it!’ ‘I stayed up all night doing this sign.’

Your cheeks are on fire, hiding your face with a towel from the embarrassment. The onlookers join in instantly, cheering under Hoseok’s lead. Your dad and Seokjin even laughs when Hoseok doesn’t leave Seokjin out, cheering him on as well. Hoseok smiles when he sees the same slowly etch into your anxious features. He’s supposed to leave now, his training over and all, but he decides to stay despite the missed call and text messages he’s been receiving from his driver and his mom. Before you both knew it, the set ends and some of the spectators go nearer and congratulate you.

Hoseok deems this as his time to take leave, handing his bags to his driver Adit. He takes another look at you who’s attending to all those who have come to you and Seokjin to commend the match. When the small crowd clears away, you’re left with just Seokjin. You have been looking for Hoseok when the match as you owe him a great deal of thanks. Your eyes drift left to right searching for the boy with the gleaming smile. That’s odd, since Hoseok never leaves without saying goodbye.

When Seokjin calls your name, your searching is momentarily stopped. “Hey, great game earlier.” You realize that the two of you have never talked when the match ended, so you shake his hand with an apologetic smile. “You gave me a hard time back there.” He laughs at this, muttering something about trying at the very least.

“I guess we’ll be seeing each other more often then?”

“Ye-oh!” You’re caught mid-sentence when you accidentally step on a stray ball. You feel your knee giving in but a pair of strong arms catch you. One hand initially lands on your breast but your savior immediately adjusts it down to your waist to help you get up.

Holy fuck!

You’re rendered speechless at what just transpired, shuffling your feet so you turn face to face with Seokjin. “I-I uhh…” You have lost absolutely all coherence and that carnal feeling that shoots through your core. You never had experience with a boy before, let alone have one grope you. Good god. You were royally fucked. It doesn’t help that Seokjin is also staring at you, eyes a lighter brown with the sunlight in his eyes. You gulp as your eyes travel to his neck…were men’s necks always this…delectable? He seems even hotter now that he’s drenched in sweat. ‘No!’ shouts the little voice at the back of your head, screaming at you for the past ten seconds, scolding at you for not getting ahold of yourself.

Your father coughs, breaking the tension-filled air instantaneously. He bids goodbye as he hands you your tennis bag. Your father doesn’t linger any longer, yet you know he’s expecting you to follow at once. Settling with a curt wave towards Seokjin, you jog after your dad who’s walking farther away.