#it was interesting! we didn't have names until the very end so i was guessing at which dot was which person

[gguk-n]

Max Unravelled

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Max accidentally made an account on google plus in 2013. He came across a poetry page and enjoyed reading them. He ends up friends with the poet. He loved the normalcy she brought to his life. He didn't realise when the comfort he felt for her turned into love.

{Max's POV}

2013

I was searching for something on my gmail account when a pop up for google plus came through; without much thought I clicked on it. Some how, I'm yet to figure that out, I ended up with a google plus account. One of the few accounts I got recommended was a poetry and story account. They wrote very eloquently; I could feel the emotions in every word. I started reading all their posts in my spare time and even commenting on the ones I liked. I found my self constantly checking back to their page to see if they posted something. Their poetry was relatable and understandable. I hope they always have a good day since their words always pick me up when I'm down.

The poet I had been enjoying so much is a girl, and her name is Y/N. She's around my age; I guess that's why I related to her work so much. We spoke for the first time ever on her birthday. She made a post about it being her birthday so I wished her. She was sad about not being able to enjoy her birthday, I felt bad for her so we talked for a while until dad called me to practise. That was the start of our friendship. We ended up talking on google plus a lot. We shared the same sense of humour and best of all, she didn't know about racing. It was like a breath of fresh air to not talk about racing. She doesn't even seem interested in it; so I can live as Max for a while now.

My birthday was shit but talking to her made everything better. I can't believe I got excited about talking to someone and that someone made me feel good even on one of my shittiest days. She's one of the nicest people I've had the pleasure of talking to. I really do wanna talk to her on phone, typing everything I want to say out feels tedious.

2014

I've gotten busier since this year with Formula 3. We barely get to talk anymore. She did send me her number and we chat on Whatsapp whenever we can. But obviously it is not the same. I've suggested talking on call a few time and she finally agreed; I just need to find the perfect time to get away from everything to talk to her. I felt so nervous to talk to her for some reason, what if she thought I was weird and didn't enjoy talking to me? What if she heard me and decided I wasn't fun? What if we had nothing to talk about? I called her while sitting in my driver's room, she picked up quite quickly after 2 rings to be exact.

Max- Hi, Y/N! Y/N- Hey, Max!! How are you? Max- I'm good, what about you? Y/N- Yeah, I'm good too. haha!! This is so weird talking to you. Max- yeah, you sound pretty. Why would I say that? That sounds so fucking creepy, I face palmed myself so hard. Y/N- You sound nice too. I mean....you have a nice voice. Max- haha, thanks, this is the first time some one has said that. She thinks I have a nice voice, do I? Y/N- soooo, what have you been up too?? You've been so busy lately. I could hear people outside the driver's room. I quickly locked the door before answering her question. Max- yeah, I've been busy with stuff. I'll be done soon for a while now. Y/N- That's great I need my best friend back! Did she just call me her best friend? I've never had a best friend before.

We ended up talking on calls a lot more. I would have her contact ringer saved with a separate ringtone so that I would know to answer it. She usually called at reasonable times, where ever I travelled as if she knew my schedule.

2015

I got signed with RedBull Racing's junior team, making me the youngest driver. It was such a surreal feeling. But this also meant I couldn't talk to Y/N as much as I wished I could. Training and the races kept me very busy. But she was very understanding and would always welcome me back, no matter how long I was gone for.

2021

The first time I'm regretting not telling what I do to Y/N was today when I won my first World Championship. I was surrounded by my team, my girlfriend and my family as I got out of the car after I finished P1 at Abu Dhabi but it felt strange; like I was missing someone. I wish I could share this win, the biggest in my life yet, with the person who makes me feel so special yet so myself.

When I asked her about Formula One, she didn't know about, she didn't even know the prominent figures. So, I wasn't as worried about her finding out but I did worry now; since my win was controversial according to the media. However, she never asked. Was she really unaware or playing dumb? I wasn't sure if I should be grateful I get to be just Max or sad that I can't share a huge part of my life with my best friend.

2023

Y/N and I have been friends for the past 10 years. Time really flies. I've gotten a lot better at balancing my personal and work life. Y/N is my well kept secret; like I'm the only one who knows her. She moved out for college and we've only video called since. She is still funny and still writes. I think it's so cool of her to stay passionate about what she loves and keeping at it. She loves my cats more than I love them sometimes, she get's so excited when I send pictures of them. She says they cheer her up and that Jimmy and Sassy are her virtual pets. They loved her too honestly, they would always recognise when she was on call and jump into my lap or the phone to see or hear her. She still doesn't know what I did for a living; we've kept that a 'secret' you could say. But really I just didn't know how to tell her I was a Formula One driver and a 2 time World Champion.

Today was like any other day, I hadn't spoken to Y/N at all. Whenever I called her, I would usually close/lock the door depending on who was at home. My girlfriend didn't know about Y/N. I didn't even know how to bring it up, honestly. I sat down on my SimRacing chair after I switched the livestream off. Her phone rang for a few times and then stopped ringing but she didn't answer the call. I tried again thinking maybe she was busy or didn't hear it. I called a couple times before texting her; no reply. I was freaking out. This was the first time in 10 years that she hasn't answered my calls. She won't even reply to my messages. I found myself pacing around the house. The door to the room opened to my girlfriend's daughter standing in front of me, "Maxie, why are you walking in circles?" She asked after observing me for sometime. "It's nothing" I said, trying to calm myself down more than give a reply to her question. All these horrible thoughts swirled through my mind; what if she was in an accident and no one knows? What if she got robbed? What if she hurt herself and can't get help? What was I supposed to do? I didn't even know where she lived. I just couldn't think straight. My hair was a mess with how much I was running my fingers through it, a few stands coming along when I almost pulled them out of frustration.

After 7 hours, she replied to my text. I had almost given up hope, but she said that she was fine and that her phone was about to die. I felt relieved knowing that she was ok. But the text was so out of character for her. I texted her everyday after that in hope of talking to her. We always spoke everyday and it had been years since we didn't speak for so long. Almost every text was left on delivered. I had a race this weekend which I won and went out to celebrate with everyone because they wanted me to tag along. I didn't see the text Y/N sent me a while after the race since I was at the club. I only saw it when I got home. As soon as I saw it, I called her. She answered after a few rings.

Max- Schat, how have you been? Haven't heard a word from you in days. You could clearly hear the worry in my voice. Y/N- I've been busy, school year ending and stuff. Why didn't you sleep yet? Max- You know my sleep schedule is non existent. Y/N- Yeah, I guess I do. What did she mean by that? Her voice seemed hoarse, was she sick?Y/N- You know how I do freelance editing Max- You've told me about it Y/N- The latest author I'm working with is a sports author. I was hoping you could help me since you are a walking encycylopedia. Max- sure schat, but what's up with you? You know I'm always there for you Y/N- Yeah it nothing, just stressed. Max- Take off, you deserve it I wish she took care of herself instead of working so hard without breaks. Y/N- The summer break is here soon, I'll be fine. So about that author... Max-Yeah, what sport does she write for? Y/N- Formula One. I don't really like reading lengthy articles and I'm sure one article wouldn't do a sport any justice. I felt the ground slip from under my feet. My palms had gotten sweaty suddenly. Max- You did not go through google yet, right? (I stammered out) Y/N- Oh no, what do you take me for? I got excited to learn about something new. Do you know who the reigning champion is? I felt like I was about to lose everything. I didn't know what to say, my mouth was dry. No matter what I said, I don't think I could fix this situation. Y/N- Some dude named Max Verstappen. You guys share the same first name. He has 2 cats too; named Jimmy and Sassy, who look exactly like your bengals. I mean he even looks like you, with horrible sleep schedule just like you. He even sounds like you. There was horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and my lungs felt like there was no air in them. Watching her tear up was the worst feeling.

Max- Schatje, I can explain. Y/N- You don't have to Max. I never asked you what you did. You don't have to explain anything. Max- I wanted to tell you, it just never came up in conversation. Y/N- I get it, it's difficult to tell your friend who has amounted to nothing that you are the World Driver's Champion, best of the best in Formula One. Max- Y/N, it's nothing like that. You're great, you're kind, you're funny. She laughed, but that stung my heart for the first time when her laugh was my favourite sound in the world. Y/N- Those are character traits I possess, they don't describe my career goals or achievements. I know I work 2 jobs to stay afloat while you make millions, I know I wish I was an author and not their editor, I know you probably thought I was too stupid to understand your rich and fancy world. Max- No, no, you're so talented. I've read your work and I'm sure the right publication will pick your work up. Y/N- I got rejected for the sixth time today. All of this is fine except that you lied to me about being single while having a girlfriend for years and having the happy family you dreamt off. You didn't have to introduce me to her; not like my boyfriends met you. But it would've been nice if I knew. Max- It just never came up. (I held my head in shame) Y/N- I...we joked about setting you up with someone all the time. Please don't. I get it, we didn't tell each other about work goals or what we did as a job but personal life; I literally told you about every guy I've ever been with. I felt bad telling you thinking you were single. I feel stupid right now. I wanted to reach out and wipe her tears but I couldn't. Max- I'm sorry,Y/N. I promise I won't hide anything anymore. Please, don't cry. Y/N- My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I majored in literature in Uni and now work as a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I'm trying to get my book published soon. I broke up with my boyfriend 2 months ago. This fucking hurt, everything she said and the way she said it. Max- Please don't do this. Y/N- I believe at least one of us should be honest. Max- Let me fix this. Y/N- Don't worry. There's nothing to fix. Max- Please don't say that. You mean a lot me. (I felt tears in my eyes.) Y/N- Me too. That's why, I need time. I'll talk to you when I'm ready. Max- Please, I can't lose you. I felt like my world was crashing. Y/N- You won't. I'll always be there for you. I just need time. Take care Max I was crying as she said it. Max- Bye, take care Y/N. I'll always be here. And the screen blacked out, I could see my reflection on the screen, tears streaming down my face.

After I was able to clear my head I texted her telling her that I would always be there for her and I would like to clear up the misunderstanding when she's ready. I spent the next few months thinking about her. It was starting to affect my relationship. I couldn't really give my girlfriend time when my mind was occupied with thoughts of Y/N. When my girlfriend brought it up how we were growing apart; I had a fight with her. I don't know what came over me, but not talking to Y/N or not knowing what was up with her was making it very difficult for me to focus on anything. The fighting became a constant after that. I didn't understand why she couldn't let me be. I missed my friend but she wouldn't get it.

I was SimRacing when Y/N's name popped up on my phone asking me to call her. I guess she was ready to talk it out. I really wished that this wasn't the end of our friendship. I really hoped that we could get over the misunderstanding and still be friends. I told the team I had some work and called her immediately. She answered like always; I waited for her to speak with baited breath. She started talking and we cleared everything up. I apologised for hiding the truth from her. I told her how much of a constant she was for me in my ever hectic life; how talking to her made everything better. She listened to me, I listened to her and then finally asked her to come to my home race. I wanted to meet her. I couldn't live knowing that I had the resources but didn't meet the one person that mattered to me the most. She was hesitant at first but I offered to get her the tickets and insisted on her joining me at the biggest race of the season for me and finally she agreed. I was over the moon. As soon as we ended the call, I sent her the tickets. I found myself counting down the days to the race for the first time.

I was waiting for her at the airport when she got here. My heart was beating very fast as I waited for her to come out. When I saw her; she was beautiful, shorter than I expected but she looked cute with her bag in one hand and a back pack on her shoulder, her hair in a low bun, a small smile graced her feature. I don't think I've noticed anyone with such detail ever before. Our conversation flowed easily. It didn't feel like it was the first time we were meeting. I dropped her at the hotel and went off to do media duty's at the paddock when I came back she was still asleep, traveling must've tired her out. She got dressed while I waited for her to get ready, even giving my 2 cents on what she should wear. She looked gorgeous, I couldn't help myself, staring at her. The black satin dress hugged her curves in all the right places. Her hair flowed down her back, the jewellery sparkling against her body. We went to have dinner at a fancy dutch restaurant. She loved the food especially the apple tart. The moan she let out as she devoured the dessert made blood rush downwards. I found my cheeks heating up, thankfully the whole place was dimly lit. We walked around for a while after the meal, she made fun of my name but I couldn't care less. I apologised and she accepted it and hugged me. Her arms were soft and the embrace warm. I found myself wrapping my arms around her, my face buried in her neck. I was scared I was gonna lose her, forever. I've never been scared to lose anything but a race until now and the thought of not having her in my life seemed scary. She consoled me and we headed back to the hotel.

The rest of the weekend was uneventful except for my girlfriend being pissed; she fought with about Y/N. I don't get what her problem is, she's just a friend I've known since forever. I'm just showing her around. I was giving interviews when I saw her talking to Lando, I saw them laughing along in the corner of my eye. It made me feel strange, there was this feeling in the pit of my stomach and I didn't like it. When I got back, Lando had left since it was his turn. She found Lando cute and it irked me, I was annoyed hearing her ask me to set her up with him. We got back to RedBull hospitality when my girlfriend asked me to talk to her, I left with her reluctantly leaving Y/N with Checo.

"Listen Max, I get it, she's your childhood friend and all, but it's so weird how she suddenly cropped up when I or for that matter any one knew nothing about her. People are saying stuff about us since she stepped on the paddock and the way you are dragging her along." my girlfriend spoke. "What are people saying? I will not stand any slander against her" I cut her off. She laughed dryly. "WOW, they are saying stuff about us, Max, us, that you are cheating on me with her. You've been so distant for months until a month ago, I didn't know what went wrong and you wouldn't talk either." she said running a hand through her hair. "It's nothing really. She just knows me as Max and not Max Verstappen and that's why I'm closer to her. Nothing more." I said. "It's pointless talking to you" she said turning around. "If we're done, I'm leaving, Y/N doesn't know anyone here except me." I said leaving for the door. She huffed before she followed me out. Y/N looked worried about what was going on between me and my girlfriend but I calmed her down and we spent the day together. She tagged along during quali too. I saw her praying before quali, it made my heart swell. I was starting pole and we spent the night watching a movie even though Y/N wanted me to rest before the race, I wanted to make the most of the little time we had.

Y/N hugged me before the race wishing me. I wanted to win so bad, I'd won here twice before but this was different. I wanted to win in front of her. I raced like a mad man and then I heard it. I crossed first and my happiness knew no bounds; knowing she was watching. I got out of the car and immediately ran to her; hugging her. It was cathartic. Y/N said my girlfriend looked annoyed, but I couldn't care less. I watched my girlfriend leave, annoyed. When I received the trophy at the top step of the podium knowing she was watching me from below made it so much more worth it. Y/N wanted to go out to celebrate my win and I wasn't one to say no. I went back to the hotel to get cleaned up and ready for the night.

I was greeted by my girlfriend in the room, it was dimly lit as she was sat at the corner of the bed with tears streaming down her face. "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT MAX?" she screamed at me. "Am I a fucking joke? I let it slide, you said you were friends but the first person you go to after winning your race was her, what do you think people were whispering when you did that?" she said in between sobs. I didn't get what she was saying. "Do you like her?" she asked. "What? We're friends" I stated. She shook her head, "No, Max, you aren't. The way she looks at you is how I look at you. The way you look at her" She cried, "You've never looked at me like that" she lamented. "It's nothing like that" I began. "You should've respected me at the very least and broken up with me if you liked someone else, I'm not gonna be some girl's place holder till you can have her." she cried out. "You're not a place holder for her" I said. "Feels exactly like that" she said wiping her tears. I felt nothing my 2 year long relationship might be ending and I didn't care. I didn't even try to correct her, did I really like her? Was Y/N really more important to me? "We're through Verstappen, if you can't even fight for us, I'm not about to fight for us" she sighed dejected. I walked towards the bathroom to wash up while she packed up to leave. When I got out she was gone. I went to pick Y/N up.

She kept asking me about my girlfriend but I never told her that we broke up. I didn't want her to feel responsible for my decision. At the club, she got close to everyone pretty quickly. She was unstoppable, downing one drink after another. I hadn't touched alcohol since I was driving. The others kept handing her drinks much to my dismay. She asked me to come dance with her but I had the others to look after too. She was busy dancing surrounded by too many guys, one of them going as far as to touch her and grind against her. All I saw was red, I bid the guys good bye and stormed the dance floor to drag a reluctant Y/N with me; I ended up carrying her out on my shoulder. She wasn't very happy, screaming and hitting me till I put her down. She puked as soon as I put her down and joked about missing my expensive car, I didn't really mind if she hadn't since she was more important than the car. I got her medicine and left them at her side after putting her to bed.

We spent the next few days after the race sight seeing. Y/N brought up my girlfriend a few time and I ended up avoiding her. When we were cuddling while watching Barbie I felt my heart beating out of my chest as she scooted closer to grab tissue. When her hand brushed against my skin, it burnt and a weird feeling erupted in my chest. She seemed completely unaware of how she was making me feel. We fell asleep on the couch that night.

I wasn't able to avoid the girlfriend question any longer and told her that we broke up without making any eye contact on the way to drop her to the airport. My eyes stung and there was a lump in my throat; I wasn't sure it was because of my girlfriend or Y/N. I bid her farewell, she would turn back towards me to wave after every few steps; my eyes were blurry after sometime trying to prevent the tears from falling. I ended up crying after she left.

All the races after, I ended up going shopping after or before every race to collect some trinkets or stuff that was special to that place and mailing it to her with small notes attached. She would graciously open them in front of me on video call; the smile she gave me the first time she received was unparalleled. It made my stomach turn over. I wanted to make her smile every chance I got. That's how I ended up sending her a package after every race from every country until I got reprimanded by her for the excessive amount of gifts. She asked me not to send one after every race and stick to one or two in total; I was forced to agree to that request.

We were planning on spending Christmas and New Year together; she wanted to leave after Christmas but I was able to convince her to stay until I had to leave for pre-season training. I couldn't wait for the season to end and to spend the year end with Y/N. We celebrated me winning the championship on video call; even though I had hoped she could be present in person but it wasn't possible with her schedule. This championship felt better than the last two since I was able to celebrate it with her. 2021 me wouldn't believe me right now.

Y/N flew in as soon as winter break started for her. I had cleaned up the house as much as possible. I had told my cats about Y/N visiting who seemed excited. I picked her up from the airport and when we got home the cats were very excited to meet her; a lot more receptive than the other guests I've had over. We spent the next few days going to places and the Monaco GP circuit. She cribbed about walking the entire time we walked the path. It made me laugh.

The night before Christmas we fell asleep on the couch cuddling; I hadn't slept this well in a very long time. When I woke up, Y/N was no where to be seen. I sat up waiting for her to return when she came back, she looked so cute in her jumper and shorts with her hair a mess. We opened up presents after some time. She had gotten me a Sid plushie, an ugly sweater and perfume. I got her a Formula One book with my face, a coffee mug and a pendant. I wanted to get her more stuff but I was sure she would make me return it if she saw every thing. I think the house would be over run with the amount of stuff I wanted to get her. Then she brought the matching sweater she got with me; I put it on immediately. I wanted to match with her all the time. We had a bit of back and forth on the dinner but agreed on Turkish kabab.

New Year came too quickly, which meant Y/N would be leaving soon. We went clubbing on New Year eve. She didn't drink like the last time we were at the club but made friends with some of the guys there. Having a social butterfly for a friend was a bad idea. We counted the time down to midnight as the clock struck 12 and I turned towards her to celebrate I saw she was kissing one of the guys she had befriended when we entered. If the club was quite you could hear my heart shatter. That's when I realised that all these weird feeling and all the times I couldn't stop thinking about her was because I liked her, no scratch that, I loved her. I felt my heart constrict when she turned towards me and hugged me later. I didn't want to talk about it, this would ruin our friendship.

All I could think about was how it felt to watch her kiss another man. I hated it, the worst feeling, worse than DNFing or not winning. I hated knowing another man could touch her and feel her. I wasn't even sure how to bring it up since what were we if not just friends. I put myself into training for the upcoming season but those feelings I felt when she kissed another man were still fresh in my head and I couldn't get rid of them even if I tried.

I was able to convince her to join me during her spring and summer break. We had fun, I loved having her waiting for me at the end of the race. I didn't really enjoy all the media questions that had cropped up about Y/N when she was seen with me, before or after the race. During my summer break, I spent it at her place. When I got there, it was a small apartment; but it had a homely feel. She would cook food for me and we would watch movies; I had a few commitments with the team and would leave for some time but then be back. It was so nice to have some one to come home to. When she was having her book launch, I went to meet her at her launch with a bouquet of flowers. "Congratulations" I said while handing her the flowers and giving her a hug. "Thank you" she replied, a smile playing on her lips. We had celebratory dinner after. Immediately after that, we were on the news. It read that I had a girlfriend, she kept apologising but it didn't matter. It made me a little warm, I'm not sure what emotions I felt hearing people speculate that she was my girlfriend.

I flew back to Netherland for the race early, she would only be joining me on the race day due to work. It dampened my mood but there wasn't much I could do about it. She flew in the morning of the race; it made my day watching her walk out of the airport. We talked all the way to the hotel where she got changed and we headed to the paddock. I had thought it through; after the qualifying, I had planned on telling her how I felt. I was gonna win this race and confess to her. Knowing that I can't hold her while someone else can was eating away at me and I wanted to take the chance before it slipped away from me.

I started the race P2 and finished it at P2. In the final laps, the only thoughts running through my head were, I really wanted to ask her out as a race winner, I can't do that now. She probably doesn't even like me like that, did I really want to ruin everything I had with her. I stumbled out of the car towards her, a big smile on her face. And suddenly I said it; "I wanted to ask you out as a race winner" emotions were running high. She insisted me to continue and when I did, she agreed to go out with me. I was over the moon, my head was reeling. This race ending was not what I hoped for but Y/N's answer was something I really was hoping for.

She waited for me in the driver's room. I couldn't help but not touch her. Her skin against mine send electric shocks through me, I couldn't help but smile at the feeling of her against me. I wanted to have this feeling for the rest of the life. I wanted to have her next to me; it took me a while to figure that out but now that I had, I didn't want to let go. I loved her and I wanted her.

We were both in the hotel room at the end of night in each other’s embrace, "Can't believe you're my boyfriend" she exclaimed. "Can't believe you're my girlfriend either." I exclaimed back. "I've liked you since I've known you" she mumbled. "What?" I asked shocked. "Yeah, I've always had a crush on you. Teenage me would lose it right now if she saw" she said. "I'm sorry it took me so long" I muttered pressing a kiss against her lips. "better late then never" she laughed wrapping her arms around my neck, flipping me to straddle my hips. She bent down to kiss me again.

I could spend the rest of my life like this, if it meant I could have her forever.

Hope you had fun. Thank you for enjoying the story!!

[kooldewd123]

I haven't been checking in with the wider Gravity Falls fandom since I've been trying to do a lot of my own analysis so forgive me if this is something that's already been discussed a lot, but this one thing in particular has been really sticking in my mind. Typing "gun" or "oh yes they both" into the terminal provides these two responses:

These are lyrics from the musical Chicago, specifically the song "We Both Reached For The Gun." Here's a clip of the song from the movie adaptation, for reference:

Two immediate things to note here. First, the scene uses heavy puppetry imagery, and the importance of that in relation to Bill should be obvious. And if that wasn't enough, the character actually doing the puppeteering is named Billy. Frankly, that could quite likely be where this reference begins and ends and everything I say from this point onward might be me overthinking this. This could simply be another joke response like "McGucket" just leading to the music video for Cotton Eyed Joe or "Gideon" giving a Google search for sweat resistant bolo ties. What makes this one seem different to me is that unlike those examples, it stays in the terminal and doesn't link to an external site. You wouldn't understand the joke without already knowing the song (honestly, I didn't understand it myself until the previously linked video coincidentally came up in my YouTube recommended feed a few days later), not to mention that the prompts to find it are entirely self-contained as well.

Digging into the song itself, it's a very interesting choice to reference here (Quick disclaimer: I haven't seen this musical before, and most of my research has been fairly cursory, so please correct me if I get something wrong). The context here is that Roxie (the girl being puppeteered) killed the man she was having an affair with when he tried to leave her. In this song, Billy, her lawyer, rewrites the story so that the man was instead a jealous ex threatening her life. Him and Roxie "both reached for the gun," and the murder was actually an act of self-defense. Because of this spin, the false story of Roxie being a sympathetic hero ends up overtaking the reality that she's just a vindictive killer. And the weirdest part is... this kinda mirrors Bill's backstory that we learn about in the Book of Bill? We never solidly find out the truth of what happened to Euclydia. What information we have is at best heavily biased and at worst outright censored. Did Bill truly want to help his dimension or is that just a justification he came up with after the fact? We don't know. We're the reporters in this song, the people who have nothing but the word of the perpetrator to go off of. And I... don't really know what conclusion to make of this. Like, the broad strokes of the two stories are very similar in their themes, but whenever I try to look at the details, they don't map onto each other as well as I'd like. Roxie seems much more unrepentant than Bill, and Bill seems much less, stable? i guess? than Roxie. I really feel like there might be something it's trying to say about Bill here, but whatever it is, it's eluding me.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

If a version of Midnight Sun existed for each following instalment of the Twilight series (New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn), what do you think they’d be called/what would you call them and what (new) scenes would be in them?

Anon, you speak my greatest dream. I want this in my life. If no one else does, then I am the sole person who does. If there is not one person who wants this, it means that I have died.

I need this.

But for now, I can only imagine (and no doubt fail miserably to what it would be in actuality).

New Moon

The thing is that Meyer would also want to call this New Moon for the reason that she called it New Moon for Bella: this is a book about hopelessness. Edward leaves, Bella's soulmate, she literally cannot survive without him and this book is her discovering "oh, yeah, I literally cannot survive without him" (and making friends with Jacob but let's be real Meyer was never that into that).

It's a book where the moon, the light, is gone.

For Edward, we have the same narrative, he tries to leave Bella for her own good, fails, has a miserable time, and comes crawling back only to find that he's made everything worse.

But because Edward is more dramatic, and to thematically work with Midnight Sun (named thus as Bella is the unexpected sunlight in what should be the darkest of Edward's nights) we have Polar Night which is the phenomenon opposite of Midnight Sun where instead of the sun never setting at all we have the night never ending.

As for what would be in it. My friend, my beautiful friend, everything would be in it.

We'd get the scene where Edward bullies his family into leaving, many of them having reservations, and then steals all Bella's photographs and tries and fails to steal the stereo out of her car. We'd get scenes of Edward fantasizing about Bella marrying and holding hands with MiKe NEWtoN and it being entirely too much for him. We get all of the birthday party, period, which from Edward's point of view would no doubt be insane.

We have Edward so fucking depressed that he feels he's bringing the family down and chooses to leave on the vague pretext of catching Victoria. Then he doesn't catch Victoria and loses her in Mexico but is so depressed he just keeps going south until he hits Brazil.

Where he stays, and per what he says to Bella (which is undoubtedly not the entire truth) he was fucking miserable and did nothing for months. Did he have a Hallucination Bella who told him not to eat human food because it'd make him sick? Did he write a rock opera about Bella Swan only to realize it didn't live up to real life and burn it in a fit of despair and anger? What about the family calling to check in? We know that happened, Rosalie could reach Edward and he answered, so did they just call and quietly try to ask if Edward's coming back home or not? You know? Anytime? Edward?

And then of course his pleading for death with the Volturi, being told no, planning his elaborate massacre-suicide before settling on good old suicide without any murder and Bella being alive and that whole debacle from his point of view including "OH NO OTHER MAN MOVED IN" when he realizes Jacob's... kind of... a thing...

Everything would be new in part because we see so little of Edward and given the insanity in Midnight Sun that was never in Twilight I can't even guess to what Edward got up to for months in Rio.

It could be fucking anything.

Eclipse

Or "Edward did a bad thing and is now very nervous" the novel. As for what it's call, this is less clear as we have to go with the sun/moon themes here, and Eclipse is already taken. If we're allowed weather related events maybe "Eye of the Hurricane" as there's a storm out there and this book is about Edward barely holding his shit together. This is his nightmare scenario in every way.

Bella has a new love interest, a friend she believes is platonic who is very interested in her, and worse, Edward actually does admire and is hands down in Edward's opinion the better man for her to be with. Bella's changed when he was gone and is now an adrenaline junky, what else about her has changed? How much did he miss? She's involved in werewolves who all hate Edward, for good reason, and want her to leave him, for good reason. Edward has discovered that he actually can't leave Bella, Alice was right, even though he wants to be that strong desperately. Bella got the family to agree to turn her and they'll do it, Edward's barely gotten her to agree to be turned by him instead, but she's hemming and hawing about marrying and committing to him and she wants him to bang him (which will likely lead to her death)

Edward is straight up not having a good time, bro.

So, we'd get Edward's insane plans to keep Bella and Jacob apart, his meeting Bella in the road after her looking like he'd love nothing more than to pull The Terminator where he chases her car down. We get Edward's increasing nervousness that Bella "wants to be with him forever" but "doesn't want to marry him" (which for Edward, understandably as he doesn't have Bella's background, is something that just doesn't compute). And there's Jacob, kissing Bella, warming her up at night, thinking very dirty things when Edward's sitting right there internally screaming.

And of course, offscreen things with the family, likely venting about the Denali who are leaving them to die because they won't let them kill the children Native Americans, wondering if they're all going to die in this fight, even more of the tent scene with Jacob (which I'm sure, somehow, I'm sure, got very homoerotic in there). Probably sobbing to Alice "I fucked up" and then hating Rosalie BECAUSE THIS IS ALL HER FAULT HISS HISS.

And of course, what we know he sees from Bree and perhaps the discussion with the family that Bella never got to be privy to.

And I imagine a lot of fantasies of Bella pregnant with Jacob's beautiful babies.

Breaking Dawn

I'm going to bow out for this one too, Meyer would want to name it that. Maybe we get "Hailey's Comet" or something, in that Edward has related Bella to a comet streaking across the bleak sky of his life and this is him learning to accept to be happy and perhaps good things are allowed to happen to him.

But anyways.

I mean.

We get Breaking Dawn.

We get Edward gearing himself up for sex and asking the family how to bang a woman. We know he did this. Canonically he confesses to Bella, in the weirdest manner possible, that he asked his entire family how to do it (and it made it clear that Carlisle didn't really approve and was pretty :/ and "don't do it" about all of it). We get the family probably watching Alice like hawks because they're waiting for her to tell them if Bella lived or died through intercourse. We get Edward interrogating the maid in Portuguese and god knows what they even said to one another but it had to be wild.

We get Edward planning Bella's abortion, the betrayal by Rosalie yet again, and then more planning of her forced abortion with Jacob and his opinion on Jacob turning from "respected rival" into "my only friend".

Then we get Edward's complete flip on Renesmee which must have been... I don't even know. But he'd be thinking she's the spawn of Satan before that (in the most Edward manner possible) and then that she's Jesus after that (in the most Edward manner possible).

Then of course there's "my son, Jacob" and honestly probably fantasizing about an adult Renesmee pregnant with Jacob's beautiful babies. Let's be real here. and just...

Look.

I can't predict this.

What we saw of Breaking Dawn was already insane and this would only be more so because it's Edward. There's so much we don't see as Bella pays 0 attention to the other vampires and to the family at large and Edward would just...

I have no idea.

It would just be madness.

TL;DR

I need this.

[maleyanderecafe]

Yandere Killing!! ~When I told my obsessive childhood friend, "I love you too," she shifted to the romantic comedy route~(Manga)

Created by: Toyama Monaka/Kazuichi

Genre: Smut

The continual descent into translating yandere stuff continues. This one only has one chapter out for me to translate so far, so really the only last maybe 10 pages have any semblance of smut. Still though, the artwork for this one is very pretty and I am so happy with the way that I typefaced this one like you will not believe how clean it is compared to other ones I've translated.

The story starts out with a man named Isogi begging in front of Miyoshi to take him back after he cheated on her with another girl. Miyoshi of course bluntly rejects him, stating that the one thing he cannot forgive is cheating to which Isogi is dragged away. After that, her coworkers get worried about her and she continues her work at the coffee shop, only to meet up with another man named Ohara who asks if the two of them will be eating dinner tonight. Ohara and Miyoshi are childhood friends and have a tendency to eat together with her sister Ryoka. Outside, Isogi stalks Miyoshi until Ohara comes to "have a talk with him". At night, it seems Ohara is late and Miyoshi and Ryoka eat together instead, before Ryoka turns in for the night warning Miyoshi to be more careful when it comes to Ohara. Ohara comes over to eat and we see that Miyoshi has had a long time crush on him, however, feels that he has no interest in him because of an event that happened when she was in high school. At work, Tayaka ends up proposing to Miyoshi after she laments about her ex for a bit promising that he will be loyal, however, is interrupted by Ohara. Ohara seems pretty pissed which leads to Miyoshi feeling depressed about this fact as she still has a crush on him. Not wanting this to eat her, she tries to call Ohara so that she can confess to him, even if she feels he won't reciprocate. However, while attempting to do so, her sister ends up calling her instead, warning that Ohara is right behind her before Ohara takes her phone. Ohara is extremely jealous and starts to touch her. talking about how Isogi and Tayaka don't deserve her before basically mating pressing her at the end.

Basically I think that the plot of this smut (I mean most smuts barely have a plot, fair enough) was pretty intriguing until the very end of this chapter where everything escalates way too fast. I guess considering the title states it goes into a comedic route that might be the reason why? Hard to tell with just the first chapter though. Also because we know that the male lead is a yandere at all times, the misunderstanding of her not realizing that Ohara does have a huge crush on him is pretty like...well, the dramatic irony is not lost on me, I suppose. Still, I did think that the entire thing with Sayuki's drive to not try to get back together with someone who cheated is pretty good, although I'm not sure why she feels like that since we don't know if she's actually had problems with cheaters in the past (before Isogi) and I feel (?) like it's pretty standard for people to not get back with someone who has cheated on them if there is not reason to (like having kids or being financially dependent on them for instance). Like I said though, the ending of that is pretty confusing- how did Sayuki's sister Ryoka know that Ohara was right behind her and why did she call in the first place? I mean, I know Ryoka was pretty much the only person who knew the two liked each other, but how did she know he was coming for her? And like. I don't understand why Ohara didn't just try to confess to her in the first place if he likes her so dang much anways, especially since it did seem like the two of them were close. Again though, this is a smut so it's not like the plot is the most important part of this story, there's just a lot of things going on that don't really have an explanation now.

That being said, this artwork is very pretty and it does a good job with the yandere expressions that we did get. Hopefully as more chapters come out that I can translate we can figure out what is going on in this story.

[bonefall]

i know u dont rework arcs untill theyre complete but im very excited to see what you do with a starless clan, theres so much exciting things happening in this arc to work with. do you have any changes you already know for sure you’ll be incorporating?

No for-sures. I don't want to make any for-sures. I have ones I'm feeling but I don't want to call ANYTHING a for-sure yet. I need to find out what the ending is, WHERE this is all going, because I have a strong philosophy in my writing that a story is like a spear;

IT'S ALL ABOUT GETTING TO THE POINT.

But we are 4/6 of the way in, so I CAN start talking about thoughts!

I'm actually leaning pretty heavily towards axing Nightheart as a POV. There's still time for the books to turn around and justify it, BUT HEAR ME OUT

(Saying AS someone who is a Nightheart Enjoyer)

So far I'm really feeling that his character would benefit from us never being inside of his head, or seeing what he's been going through. As much as I WILL stand by that I enjoyed books 1 and 2 and liked his perspectives there, I'm starting to think that it would serve the story a lot better for Sunbeam and Frostpaw to be guessing just as much as we are.

We'd get introduced to Nightheart on the journey for catmint.

Sunbeam connects with him immediately, because she's tossed on this mission while she's in the middle of a swirling tide of drama. With nothing but Clerics and a hardened Rootspring to the left and her ex-bestie (exstie) to the right, he's really her only other choice for companionship. She's chronically unable to stop problems before they get out of hand, the sort of person who becomes frozen by indecision, and then here comes this Glorious Bastard

In her eyes, he's so caring, and bold, and fun! He's the first one to jump headlong into danger, to really be interested in her problems and just let her talk, and his story is so heartbreaking! A mother who's so hard on him... and his Clan is so mean all the time, but he wants to prove to all of them that he's more than just Firestar's descendant... but he was so brave to choose his own name.................

And then, when she follows him into ThunderClan, she learns he fucking lied. She changed Clans based on SOB STORIES

When she first comes, no one knows what he's been saying behind their back. Even if they did, they don't want to start trashing Nightheart right to his new mate's face. But then he LEAVES, and Sunbeam will bring up,

"Maybe it was because you were hard on him?"

And then Sparkpelt tries to agree, just to take blame onto herself and stop all this, but Finchlight's had eNOUGH and ends up setting the record straight;

"No this is DEFINITELY another tantrum. He already ran off once before."

"NO he didn't pick his own name, he stopped the whole ceremony to complain and Bramblestar gave him a compromise"

"MEAN to him?? I had to do HIS WORK because he couldn't STAY ON THE GROUND"

"Oh he's buckling under the weight of his legacy? that must be so hard. I was cat-fifteen when i punched my first fascist and he was wearing the face of my grandpa."

"His mom aba-WHAT?? ABANDONED???? OUR MOTHER WAS EXILED AND HE STAYED HOME!!!!! WE WERE CAT-FIFTEEN!!"

With this false hope shattered, Sunbeam is thrown into a devastating situation where... her mother was right. She was tricked. And now she's stuck in this new Clan without any of her old friends, without this mate who was too-good-to-be-true, the ONE impulsive choice she's made on her own in her WHOLE LIFE turns to ashes in her mouth. She can't go back, either, because Berryheart would NEVER let her live this down.

But... it's okay.

It's a slow shock, to make a choice SO impulsive and SO self-concerned, and find a safety net below her. It's going to be okay. The trials are fair. The cats of ThunderClan interrupt and speak over each other, but, that teaches her to be more assertive. Sparkpelt and Finchlight are not the mean assholes that Nightheart built them up to be, and they'll support her no matter what she chooses to do with her possible mate.

I want Nightheart TO get better, but, in order for that to happen, he has to face, and, more importantly, ACCEPT consequences. He needs to develop the maturity to say, "I acted like a brat and didn't appreciate what I had. and I'm sorry. you don't have to forgive me."

Bottom line being, Nightheart is striking me lately as a character that works best as unpredictable, because we have NO IDEA what's truly in his head. It would be interesting for him to have a novella later, but as it stands, his POV has consistently just been a duplicate since he joined ShadowClan. We gained NOTHING from splitting the Frostpaw Journey of the newest book in half POV, and VERY little from splitting the ShadowClan one into half POV.

I might reduce the POVs to 2, just Sunbeam and Frostpaw, or change Nightheart's to Lightleap. If I NEED 3 main characters, then they should all be a consistent camera on different parts of the conflict.

Again. I do not commit to changes until the arcs are done. Nothing in BB!ASC is set yet.

But here's some other little things I'm thinking,

Bramblestar is VOTED out.

He does not step down. The little "game" he played with Nightheart to create a situation to yell at Squilf, who hasn't been his mate in a long time in BB, was the LAST straw for ThunderClan.

They had sympathy for him before that point, because of what he went through with Ashfur, but his leadership was long and controversial even before the Impostor.

And there's a really strong sentiment that IF Bramblestar had been a good leader... they would have realized he was possessed sooner. So, there are those who partially blame him for the tyranny of the Impostor.

Basically; enough is enough.

Berryheart's hate group has ACTUAL consequences. Someone gets killed; probably Antfur, who survived the last arc to die here.

More fights. This arc has been too bloodless. Already planning SEVERAL sudden, random brawls in RiverClan as tensions boil.

Heartstar is going to be MORE controversial. Not controversial enough in canon imo. I don't like how Leaf and Squilf seem like they have "hypothetical" issues with the invasion instead of being able to point at REAL ones.

riverclan didn't forget how to do the chores they've done their WHOLE lives, no. I'm going to talk about POWER VACUUMS and create ACTUAL factions that begin to coagulate in RiverClan.

if we're going to have a brainless plot about how "Well Ackshually democracy has enough problems to make us reconsider not having unaccountable, tyrannical dictators, because a vote could maybe be called over One Single Issue" then I'll talk about shit like the spoiler effect, mob mentality, and factionalism. Get the hell out of my way ERIN I'll cook

No Smoky. Society has progressed past the need for Smoky. No Smokyng Area.

Whistlepaw should to try and take care of her ALONE, not trained enough to take care of SUCH bad wounds and barely able to keep her trembling paws straight, and Frostpaw realizes that she's making her watch her own friend die.

Is this how her life is going to end? slipping away under the paws of someone she loves, for what? pride? to do what her mother told her-- trust no cat?

As she TRUSTS Whistlepaw? Trusts her SO much, that Frostpaw will force her to be the only witness to her death?

FROSTPAW CALLS THE HUMAN

...which in BB, is a team of researchers. She drags herself to them, and collapses. This is why they just HAPPENED to have the proper equipment on them; they're WILDLIFE VETS.

Not sure how I'm going to handle Frostpaw's Journey though. In BB, the Park Cats are already a foundational part of Clan Culture.

In all honesty, while I HAVE to praise the fact that the Erins have FINALLY created ONE outsider group that isn't malicious or defenseless... I don't much care for them.

sending frostpaw on a side quest to what's essentially a big DOTC reference. Look! It's that group we introduced in the last 5 chapters of our latest glorified recap! cooool.

We're just going to get nothing but fucking founders in every dream from now on. I'm SURE of it.

As a consolation prize to myself though I will be writing cool angel scenes of the absolute BEING that Riverstar has become in heaven.

Riverstar (normal cat): "Elder Bones I'm going out!"

"not dressed like THAT you're not!!!"

Riverstar (the manifestation of the river, the rain in the sky above, and the abyss below, and how through water we are all truly connected as one being): "better?"

I will probably keep the Park Cats and rework them significantly, but I'm leaning pretty heavily towards Frostpaw visiting a LOT of places. A holy pilgrimage.

ESPECIALLY one of the Tribe's three wards; the River Ward. The Tribe of Rushing Water believes (it's even in the name) that water connects all things.

So I think it would be really fitting for Frostpaw to learn from MANY perspectives, starting with this philosophy put forth by the River Ward.

And she realizes-- that's what Riverstar is, as well. As a being. He is mentoring her on this pilgrimage, while barely saying a word. She can feel him wherever she is, because he isn't JUST the God of the River.

He is connection. He is peace. He's water. Too much and you'd drown, not enough and you'd thirst.

[carolmunson]

peanut butter vibe. (steve harrington x thick!reader)

fulfilling my own request for mean!hot!thick!reader and hot!rich!wealthy!corporate!steve harrington who is not so secretly in love with you. takes place in 1996 - reader and steve are 29 turning 30

word count: 10.2K

warnings: 18+ minors dni, f!reader, smut smut smut smut, there is smut everywere in this. from flashback smut to actual smut, they've BEEN fucking. mild daddy kink, face sitting, face riding, unprotected p in v sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving), references to shower sex. body type mention, very little body insecurity mention, reference to an ex boyfriend saying reader was 'too big' for something but it's not like -- something that they take into consideration. dirty talk, pet names (honey, baby, 'good girl' etc.), mild choking, steve is so bitchy but also so soft in this i hate him.

"Hi Stevie, it's me. I'm uh, I'm back a little early, Carly's having her baby soon -- I know it was a little weird last time with Andy being with me. We um, we broke up so he's not here this time. It wasn't like a big blow out or anything but -- why am I talking about this on your answering machine? Sorry. I'll be at Porter's tonight around 6 if you wanted to meet me there? It'd be cool to see you, I guess. -sigh- It's hard to bully you when you aren't responding. Anyway, bye -- I know you'll be there at 5:57 because you can't wait to see me."

Steve let out a sigh while the answering machine closed out with a beep, the robotic voice announcing 'End of Messages'. He took his glasses off and ran a hand over his face, tossing a look at the clock on the wall across from him. It was almost quitting time, and Porter's was only a twenty minute drive away from the office. Part of him selfishly didn't want to show up, or maybe show up a little late to make you sweat since you'd forced him to meet your boyfriend last time. Well, ex boyfriend now.

You and Steve weren't friends in high school. He was busy being King Steve, basketball playing jock covered in ladies and popular people. You were busy in drama club and creative writing in the library, protecting your friends from people like Steve. Sure you knew each other, you graduated in the same year, had a couple of classes together -- but neither of you were very interested in offering each other the time of day. Two incredibly different ships passing in the night.

You weren't Steve's type in high school, either. Steve was always caught with what you'd describe as 'pretty little things'. Girls with waists he could wrap his hands around, thin and toned thighs, girls with a little jiggle where it mattered the most and none where it didn't. The girl's wearing bikini's to his house parties when the pool was open. Maybe if you had looked like that, you would've known Steve in high school -- but then again, he wasn't really the kind of guy you were trying to hail down in Hawkins.

When you weren't getting finger blasted backstage by Eddie 'The Freak' Munson when he got to the theater too early for Hellfire Club, you were making eyes at college freshman at the coffee shop you worked at. Something about slightly older men, y'know? A little mature, a little more sure of themselves. Pouring over books and scribbling in their notebooks behind their frames, staying until close to finish a paper or study for an exam. You had one or two wrapped around your finger your senior year before you left to go to school in Chicago. After Chicago it was New York -- working in marketing for a cosmetics line.

You'd come back to Hawkins every year for the holidays, but one year when your grandfather passed away you ended up at Porter's after the funeral. You were 24 and heartbroken, nursing a glass of red wine, looking out of place in your Manhattan clothes in the cozy small town bar.

You were alone at the stools until Steve Harrington came through the door, suit jacket slung over his shoulder and tie loosened over his button down. He nodded at the bar tender who instinctively poured him a whiskey before he even made it to the barstool two over from you.

"Rough day, Harrington?" he asked, sliding the drink down to him.

"You wouldn't believe, Paul," he shook his head, carding his fingers through his hair. He rested his chin on one hand, propped up on his elbow, catching your movement in the corner of his eye. He turned his head and looked over at you, a endearing smile lighting up his tired face -- that Harrington charm.

"What about you? Rough day?" he asked. At first you didn't realize he was talking to you, looking down into your wine and listening to the drone of whatever sports game was on the TV. You were brought back to earth when a soft 'hey' came from his direction.

"Me? Oh, yeah. My grandpa's funeral," you said with a scrunched face, shrugging, "Sort of a huge downer."

"Oh, wow," Steve said, turning his full body towards you on the stool, "Sorry for your loss -- that's -- yeah that beats my day. Sorry about that."

You murmur a thank you and go back to your wine, hearing him shift in his seat.

"You look really familiar," he says gently, scanning your face.

"We went to high school together," you say with a smile after a sip of your Malbec, "Class of '85."

"Hawkins High? You sure?," his voice gets a little syrupy, "I think I'd remember you."

"I was in drama -- wasn't really your type," you say with a smart head tilt. It didn't bother you that you hadn't been. The same way it didn't bother you that you might've been his type now.

You spent three hours together talking at the bar, exchanging stories about high school and your years out of it. He told you how he just started on the sales team for some big insurance company and felt so out of his depth but at least he got to wear a suit. You told him about your dingy apartment in the Lower East Side and how you missed driving all the time.

You spent another hour fucking in his BMW, riding him in the back seat tucked in a dark corner of the Porter's empty parking lot. Your skirt pushed up over your hips.

"Fuck," Steve grunted through gritted teeth, splayed out in the center of the back seat, his legs as far out as that could go, "Y'feel so fucking good. So fucking good on top of me."

You whimpered in response, the curve of his cock hitting your spongey, sensitive g-spot with every bounce. Your grip on his shoulders tightened as his hands moved smoothly over your thighs, finger tips digging into your fleshy hips when he got your reflection in the rear view mirror. Rear view, indeed. He let his eyes rest on the reverberation of your ass coming down on his hips and big legs with each shove down on his cock. The wet smack! of is crotch hitting against your soaked pussy making him want to fuck you even harder. He kneaded your body in his hands, grabbing handfuls of you as he got to your backside, humming while he felt it shake just out of his grasp.

You yelped when his warm palm cracked down on it, an angry sting running through your lower body. You couldn't help but tighten around him, slick dripping over him between your legs.

"Hm, you like that? You like when I smack that fucking ass?" he asked, holding your hips down so he could buck into you with a faster speed. Groaning while he pumped with vigor, you hear another hard crack on your ass resounding in the backseat before you feel the burn of it. Your whines made his cock twitch, slowing down to feel your hips grinding desperately against him for more friction. You slapped your palms gently against his clothed chest, pouting as you shimmied for more of his assault against your aching cunt.

“You love this cock, huh? Look at you, so fuckin' needy for it,” he gloated while your eyes narrowed in on him. Oh no, you weren't about to give Steve Harrington the satisfaction of telling him how fucking amazing his dick felt plowing into you. You weren't about to admit that all the things girls would say about him in high school were true. You reached for his jaw, holding it tight in your hand to look down at him while his hips slowed to a stop. He looked up at you, his eyes a little glassy, his grip loosening on your hips.

“Shut - your mouth,” you hissed down at him. He flushes, a smirk slips onto his lips as he leans back, putting his hands behind his head, his elbows splayed out next to him.

"Yes ma'am," he says with a soft raise to his eyebrows.

"If you'd like," he starts, taking his glasses off and tucking them into his breast pocket. He looks unbothered by your act of dominance while he runs a hand through his hair and leans forward to close the gap between you. His hands digging firmly into your ass to keep you balanced on his thighs.

His lips ghost yours while he speaks low and huskily, "I can take you back to mine and show you all the other ways I know how to use it."

He ate your pussy with the lights on and gave you his number before driving you back to your place.

'I like talking to you,' he shrugged, 'Call me whenever.'

And so began a so far, five year friendship -- you'd have long phone calls every few weeks or months when your busy schedules allowed. Staying updated on each other: how work was going, what bad dates you both had been on, what hijinks you'd been getting into with friends. Promotions, birthdays, hardships. It was nice to have a friend from home, someone who sort of knew the people you knew before you left. Nice to gossip a little, nice to laugh with each other.

Every time you came back to Hawkins, you'd meet up at Porter's for a drink. Have a real talk like you did the first night you got to know each other and then somehow, for some reason, you'd end up back at his place.

"What'd I say? Right on time, Harrington," you call out when he comes through the door. Steve groans, looking at his watch -- 5:57 on the dot. He'd had a long day, he was tired, and for a moment the sound of your voice made him grit his teeth.

You watch him check his watch and his smile tightens. He looks good -- suit much more refined from when you first really met him five years ago. Tailored, in a color that compliments his skin, his tie perfectly kept to his chest with what you assume was a pricey tie clip, shoes shined. He'd fit in great on Wall Street if he'd just get a fucking hair cut.

The way he walks towards you holds a different confidence than it had in the last year and a half when you were with Andy. Though it was clear he didn't particularly like Andy, he was perfectly pleasant -- able to slip right into a cadence of faux friendship you only wished Andy could've done. You once him over a second time as he sits in the stool next to you, his cologne was new, but expected. It felt like every man you knew was wearing Aqua di Gio.

"I know you're always so desperate to impress me but I gotta say, you look a little overdressed for Porter's. Were you nervous or something?" you ask sweetly, sipping on your red wine. You slide a whiskey double infront of him and he looks down at it, a frustrated smile breaks against his face. He bites the tip of his tongue between his teeth, shaking his head -- his hair moves with him.

"Looks like you didn't bother getting dressed up for me at all," he bites back, "C'mon, Manhattan -- a Hawkins High sweatshirt?"

Manhattan -- his favorite nick name when you got too big for your britches. A little too snobby for his liking, which was funny coming from a man with more designer clothing than you could dream to afford.

You looked down at yourself, you'd stolen the sweatshirt from your little sister -- your original one too battered and stained to see the light of day again. Sure, maybe your light wash bootcut jeans weren't screaming high fashion but your black square toed boots were cute! You swore you looked good before you left, but suddenly you weren't sure. You'd fallen off dressing 'nice' when you were home, it just wasn't worth it.

"Okay, mean," you spit, not giving off offense -- but not hiding it either.

"I like the boots, though," he shrugs, lifting the tumbler to his lips. The golden brown of the whiskey matched his eyes, they seemed to soften as the liquid met his mouth.

"Top shelf?" Steve's teeth are bright and straight in his smile while he sets the glass down.

"Do I ever disappoint?" you ask, crossing your legs. He burns pink at the question.

"Never," he's earnest in his response, finally making full eye contact with you, "You staying through the holidays?"

"Just for a few days, then heading back to wrap up Q4, I'll be back on the 23rd like always," you say. He nods and stands up, scooting his bar stool closer to yours -- just enough that your knees brushed. He leans forward, acting like it's too loud to hear you but the bar is only half full. You lean forward too, resting your chin on your hand, elbow drilling into your crossed thighs.

"And how's Carly?" he asks, you can see the delicate five o'clock shadow peeking through on his chin and neck. His lips full and wet with whiskey, he slides his tongue over them slowly to collect the flavor.

"So over being pregnant," you roll your eyes over your older sister's dramatics, "But you know -- she's excited. I'm excited, too! I get to live out my dreams of being the mysterious, hot, rich aunt."

"So, what -- Andy didn't want to be the rich uncle?" he asks, you note that he drops 'mysterious' and 'hot'. The mention of Andy stings a little and your eyes droop down to your wine.

"Sorry," he says, his comforting hand falling on your knee, "I'm sorry."

He squeezes your knee when you don't look up at his apology, a beat passes while you contemplate saying something mean -- but it's a little nice to see him feel apologetic.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, his thumb soothingly running back and forth over your thigh as his hand moves further up. Steve frowns at your disappointed face, he hated crossing the line by accident.

You shake your head no, tilting your head back up, "Let's wait on that. I wanna hear about that big promotion you got -- we haven't really gotten to talk about it."

Steve got promoted to Director of Sales six months ago and it was kicking his ass way less than his previous management position. What was most exhausting was how incompetent everyone was.

"Well, you were kind of too busy --" he started, but quickly shook his head out of the bit, "It's fine, it's a lot of work -- god, no one ever knows what they're doing. A lot of directing going into this director of sales thing."

"Aww, my little scumbag -- running the insurance show," you coo, "You should do car sales next, so sleazy, you'll fit right in."

"You're somethin' else, tonight," he laughs, taking his hand off your leg, "And are you any better? Working for a company that tells women they're ugly so they'll buy all your shit? How's it going at L'Oreal anyway?"

You sigh and roll yours eyes, "More like L'Ore-hell. I just transferred into the marketing team from customer insights and it's somehow -- boring? I already know the answers to all of the problems they come up with. It's like they don't know who their customer base is."

Steve's eyes sparkle while you continue to rant about ROIs and think tanks, he loves when you talk about how much you hate your job. You get so passionate, you talk so fast he can barely keep up.

"I wish I could check your blood pressue right now," he jokes, it's the kind of joke adults make. Sometimes it feels like you're both playing the parts of adults at these bar hang outs -- two kids in their parent's clothes on barstools, just giggling.

"When I went to the doctor they had to check it twice because I was talking about work when they checked it the first time -- that's how stressed out it makes me," you huff.

"Sorry, I just made that all about me, can you please let me more about your director job -- are you at least happy about the promotion?" you ask.

You miss his hand on your leg but it's probably just the wine talking. Paul comes over to replenish the glass without asking, you and Steve were both two drinks and go kind of people (sometimes you'd sneak a third if he wasn't paying attention).

"I mean, sure -- I'm a step away from getting into a chair position. I'm making more money than I know what to do with. My dad is thrilled for the first time ever," he explains, always so expressive but you catch him nervously swipe through his hair, "But -- fuck...y'know?"

"I don't know," you laugh into your glass, "What do you mean, 'fuck'?"

"I'm gonna be thirty next year and like, what do I have to show for it other than --"

"Other than being a wealthy hometown high school basketball super star, swimming in pussy, who got a cushy office job two years after graduating because your daddy was tired of seeing you work at Family Video, and now is the director of sales at a big wig insurance company after only what -- seven years in the company? And wears designer suits and is still swimming in pussy?" you say in one breath. He sighs at you and leans his head into his hand, elbow resting on the bar.

"Sure -- I guess," he smiles, but it's a sad smile.

"What more do you want, Steve?" you ask with a shrug, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here."

"I don't know," he shrugs, "I mean look at you -- every time you come back you have a new story to tell me, something exciting that happened to you. I have -- pfft -- 'They hired a new secretary! Here's the gossip about other people in Hawkins I learned from my mom! I'm still sort of a loser!"

"I mean sure, yeah, you're a loser," you agree, "But not, y'know, not like -- in the bad way."

He tosses you a look but you smile back at it, making him smile back at you. This time it's genuine, you figure the whiskey is helping. Steve sits back up to full height and leans back in his bar stool, knees splaying out. If he took his suit jacket off you'd swear he'd look like one of those 1950's husbands whose a little annoyed that dinner isn't ready yet -- your thighs press tight together.

"I think you sound bored," you suggest, "Like you need something different."

He drums his fingers on the bar, staring at them while he speaks, "I have some options I've been thinking about, but I don't know. Don't wanna make a fool of myself if it doesn't work out."

"Don't wait too long," you say with a shrug, "Another ten years will fly by like that." You snap your fingers for emphasis.

"What happened with Andy?" he presses, sipping his whiskey to down the rest and putting the empty glass on the table.

You 'ugh' under your breath and take a big sip of wine before you feel him tug at the end of the stem, "Sloooow down. Don't wanna to have to carry you out of here."

"You couldn't carry me, Harrington," you say flatly.

"We both know that I can carry you, but okay," he says with a quirked brow, unimpressed with your attitude. The memory of him hoisting you up against the shower tile in his bathroom with your fleshy thighs wrapped tight around him flashes through your mind. Hot breath and hot water running all over you while he grunted into your ear with each desperate thrust. Steve notices your cheeks heat up -- he knows what you're thinking about, because he is too. A satisfied smile settles onto his lips.

"Alright, settle down," you say, pushing your glass a little away from you towards Steve while his next whiskey arrives. You aren't sure if you're talking to him or to yourself.

"I just..." you breathe out of your nose, "It wasn't working out. I was tired of taking care of him."

"Oh, you broke up with him?" Steve confirms.

"Yeah," you sit back a bit, furrowing your brow, "Did you think he broke up with me?"

"I don't know, you seemed really sad about it!" Steve says, his hands outstretched, "I thought he left you."

"He didn't," you say, "I left, but it's still a bummer. Thought maybe he could've been it, y'know? But, thinking back it would've been -- I don't know -- it wasn't going to happen."

"He didn't want to get married?" he asked, a little surprised.

"I don't think that was in his five year plan, he barely took me out to dinner," you complained, "I was paying for everything 'cause I had a better job."

Steve crossed his arms while you talked, frowning while you continued to ramble about Andy and the break up.

"I just felt like I was putting a lot of effort into him, and I wasn't getting anything in return," you shrug, "And like, that's okay. I'm so used to doing that but...I don't know, I think I just would like for someone to take care of me for a change."

You pause, considering what you said and shake your head, "That sounds so selfish, oh my god."

"I don't think it sounds selfish at all," Steve shakes his head, "I think you're sort of asking for the bare minimum -- I mean fuck, he didn't take you out to dinner? I've taken you out to dinner and you've never even been my..."

You're both quiet for a beat while he trails off, neither of you looking at each other. You reach for your wine and he moves the glass away just as your fingers graze the stem. You lift your butt of the stool and pluck it out of his hand, taking another - smaller - sip. He looks at you like a disappointed father.

"Maybe I wanted to try it? Ugh, you're right Manhattan, you're so selfish," Steve teased.

"You don't like Malbec, Stevie," you swirl the booze in your glass, "That's why I order it."

Steve knows that's why you order Malbec, that's why he kept ordering whiskey -- you don't like it, but he'll know you're getting a little drunk if you ask for a sip of his drink. That's when he knows it's time to take you home, he'd sleep with you another night. He doesn't want you to get too drunk tonight, something about your flushed cheeks. The way you look in those boot cut jeans -- especially when you excused yourself to the bathroom and he could watch you walk away. Whew.

Steve waits for the door to close behind you to hail down Paul to get the check.

"She's gonna get pissy that you're covering it," Paul said while passing him the bill for your drinks, "She told me not to let you pay when she got here."

"Paul -- What's she gonna do? Kill me?" he gestures his hand out while using the other to reach for his wallet. He pulls out a few bills, including a generous tip, and passes them to Paul indiscreetly.

"Steve -- come on!" He winces at your voice, "I told you last time I had it next!"

"My hand slipped -- suddenly the money just appeared in Paul's register, there was nothing I could do," Steve held his hands up.

"Paul!" you call down the bar, but the yell turns into a laugh, "You promised you wouldn't let him pay!"

"He threatened me within an inch of my life. Had to let the man do what he wants," Paul said, putting the cash in the register. You settle back into your stool and cross your legs again, smoothing your damp hands on your jeans.

"I'm gonna kill you, Harrington," you mutter to your knees.

"I feel like 'thank you' would've been a much nicer thing to say," he's always so cool when he talks. You envy how easy it is for him to be charming, to turn it on quickly. Sometimes he makes you feel nervous and seventeen again, even though you've done this so many times before. He looks at you over the whiskey glass while he sips it, eyes glittering behind his glasses. Neither of you have to say anything to know what happens after his finishes his drink.

When you left, he reached for your hand when the door to Porter's closed behind you. You didn't need the support, the parking lot wasn't icy or snow covered, you weren't drunk -- but you let his fingers lace with yours. He guides you deliberately to his car -- of course it's new -- a dark green Porsche 911. What a tool.

"You like my new toy?" he asked. It was easily the most expensive car you'd seen in Indiana.

"Steven," you're a little exasperated -- sometimes he was such a poor little rich boy, "Why?"

He shrugs, "Felt like it."

You let go of his hand to walk to the passengers side door, waiting for him to unlock it while you shiver. He notices you didn't have a coat on, shaming himself silently for not offering his trench for the short walk.

You both get in when he unlocks to doors and you eye the interior, the plush leather of the seats. You squint a little when you cast your eyes over to him, "I feel like you're compensating for something."

"Oh yeah?" he asks casually, starting the car and cranking the heat, "What am I compensating for? Wanna remind me?"

You cross your arms and don't answer because he doesn't have anything to compensate for. Steve Harrington was born blessed, if you were more religious you'd swear he was God's favorite.

"That's what I thought," he says with a grin while pulling out of the parking lot. His hand meets your head rest while he stretches his neck back to check for cars. The same hand falls to your thigh when you make it on the road, sliding his palm over the swell of it -- his fingers resting inside. He let his eyes glance at how your hips filled up the small passengers seat at a red light, your jeans tight over your thighs.

Steve gave you a soft squeeze when the light turned green, you put your hand over his hand at the gesture -- relacing your fingers. You don't notice the gentle smile blooming onto his face, too busy looking at Christmas lights on the houses outside.

--

You don't waste time when you both get into his house, slipping off your shoes at the entry way -- bolstering passed the darkened livingroom to the stairs in his mini-mansion. He follows quickly behind you, getting ahead of you to get into his room to turn on the bedside lamps.

"Are those new?" you whisper -- it's not like anyone is home, it's Steve's house, but the darkness makes you feel like you have to be quiet. He comes back over to you, quick on his socked feet and pulls you in for a feverish kiss.

"Yeah," he says between kisses, all harsh breaths and wet clicks, "I had a new -- mmm -- uh fuck -- new decorator come in."

His hands are wound in your hair while he keeps control of your head, his kisses go from fast and hungry to slow and controlled.

"I'll show you later," he mumbles against your lips. You nod in agreement, you did genuinely want to see. What fancy hotel was it based off of this time?

"This is okay, right?" he asks, pulling away, "I'm sorry I didn't ask I just -- old habits, I guess."

"It's okay, Stevie," you assure, his hands slipping out of your hair and onto your full cheeks. He squishes them together a little and smiles into a little chuckle. Sometimes you're so cute to him he can't stand it, he wants to eat you whole -- wants to keep you in his bed forever.

"Good," he mumbles again before settling back in for a deep kiss that leaves you moaning softly into his mouth, "Missed feeling you like this."

"You're so needy," you tease, his hands dropping from your face to your hips, feeling his own press against yours.

"Oh, you feel that?" he smirks, dick hard in his slacks -- straining despterately to get your attention.

"Needier than I thought," you scoff, "You gonna make it, Steve? You don't even have your jacket off yet."

"Watch your mouth," it's not mean when he says it, he likes when you tease him because you have nothing to back it up. You've never left unsatisfied -- even when you were on top calling him your 'sweet boy', you'd get in the shower after with your legs shaking. Shivering against him when he'd get on his knees and lick at your sensitive clit just to watch you leave hand print on the glass.

"You just sound so pretty, miss. I can't help myself," he'd say from below you, water droplets resting on his eyelashes while you gushed over his mouth.

Steve breaks away to take off his jacket and looks at it for a split second -- hesitating.

"You wanna hang it up, huh?" you know how he gets.

"Will you be mad? I just don't want it to crease," he pleads.

"You're gonna get the suit dry cleaned anyway," you say back, laughing.

"I know, I know, but I have to -- I just have to hang it up, I'm so sorry," he presses a chaste peck to your lips before disappearing into his walk in closet. You take your time getting undressed because you know he'll be at least seven to nine minutes while he puts everything back in the 'to be dry cleaned' part of the closet.

You keep your bra and panties on, white satin, a little lace. He's always a sucker for something angelic that's a little grown up -- but you guess you are grown ups now. It's weird to consider.

He emerges from the closet in his boxer breifs with a frown, "Why'd you take your clothes off without me?"

"You took your clothes off without me," you counter point, "Did you want me to just sit here and wait for you?"

"Kinda," he says with a half shrug, "Would've been nice."

You get a little giddy while he approaches you, his smile building when yours does. His hands skate over the flesh on top of your flared ribs, over to your back. His fingers gliding over the back strap of your bra before snapping it off of you, dropping it to the floor. He traces the indents on your skin from the clothing, red and raw. Big hands grope at your breasts before following the slope of your waist back down to your ass, filling his hands greedily.

"Missed her the most," another chaste kiss to your lips, "But I think you knew that." Steve had always thought he was a tits guy until he met you, maybe you were the exception. Maybe he liked all your parts.

"I knew that," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Can you stop stalling, Harrington? This wine's gonna wear off soon."

With your hold on his neck, laying you back on the mattress was an easy feat. He spread you out wide, pushing your hands above your head while he settled his hips against yours. He couldn't help himself from starting to rut against you -- you were so warm, your pussy practically begging him to fuck you.

"Ooh," you moaned out against your better wishes, his covered cock giving you just enough friction in your panties to set you ablaze. You could feel yourself dripping into them, begging, waiting for him.

"You really want me tonight, huh?" he asked hungrily, knowing the answer.

"Y-yes, Stevie," you whined, letting go of his hands to let your nails graze down his back, feeling the length of him trapped in his boxers press against you.

"Oh-ho-ho, whose needy now, hm?" he teases in your ear, grinding mercilessly against you, his chest pressed up against yours while he keeps you pinned the the mattress.

"So quick with that tongue earlier, what happened?" he smirks, getting right in your face, brushing his nose against yours. You roll your hips against his, your thighs sliding against his hips as another mewl escapes you at the friction.

"Oh, I see. You wanna be good for daddy now, don't you?"

"Steven," your eyes pop open, your mouth gapes with a smile, "You can't just say stuff like that."

He laughs into a kiss on your neck, "C'mon, I think you liked it."

"I don't really think you're the 'daddy', type," you say, your voice taunting.

"No?" he asks his voice is calm, but his eyes are challenging you.

"No, you're too nice," you smirk while he comes up to kiss your mouth, "You've never won a fight in your life. And you're what, almost 30? Who're you bossin' around?"

He watches you raise a brow when you say it, your lower lip tucking slowly between your teeth in a grin -- god he loves when you do that.

"Lot of secretaries to go through in the office, mmm," he hums when your lips graze his neck, your tongue striping up to his jaw, "Learned a couple things."

"You think I can't boss you around?" he asks, pressing up off of you and leaning onto one of his forearms.

"I know you can't boss me around," you say, your brows quirking while you push at his chest to get on top of him like you always do. Already soaking at the thought of him whining for you to fuck him, to cum all over him, grabbing at your thighs, hips, and ass desperately. His heaving breaths after finishing, resting his head on your stomach while you stroked his hair, feeling his lips press against your soft, pudgy, belly to let you know he's ready for the next round.

He caught your wrist as you pushed and pressed it back down into the mattress.

"Oh c'mon Stevie, I love hearing you beg for me," you tease before he presses his mouth against yours, noses squishing together. Over the years, Steve craved closeness from you -- pulling you flush against his chest when you were on top, wrapping his arms around your back. Clutching you, fingertips sinking into your cloud-soft flesh while you moaned into his ear.

"Think you can beg for me for a change," he mutters, pulling away as you reach to kiss him again. A little whine pulls from your throat and he purrs at the sound. Right where he wants you.

He gets on his knees between your legs and looks down at you, eyes roaming the expanse of your body -- your broad shoulders, soft skin, delicate curves and indents. His personal Aphrodite -- flesh turned fine art. All the Rennaissance paintings in the world couldn't do you justice. He stuttered the first time he saw you naked, overwhelmed by you and how not shy you were for him to see you. Steve let's a finger trail along the lining of your silk panties at your thigh, you shiver at his soft touch.

"Take these off," he says, but it comes out as a demand.

"So mean," you tease, tugging at the elastic and lifting your hips up to push them over your butt and thighs. He shrugs off your jest, grabbing your underwear when they get too far down for you to reach and throwing them on the floor. He's rough when he flips you over to your stomach, the flesh of your ass bouncing with the movement and he salivates immediately.

"I'll show you mean," he says, it's more playful than menacing. He brings a hand down hard on your soft body, ass reverberating with the action and you gasp -- tensing all around.

"Ow -- Steve!" you cry out, trying to catch your breath.

“Oh, shit,” he smooths over the pink handprint blooming on your skin, “I’m sorry.”

"It's okay, it's fine, just -- I don't know, warn a girl," you laugh. His hand drags over the curve of your ass to your thigh.

"Did you like that?" he asked, his voice dropped to his lower register and you inadvertently press your thighs together. Your face drops into your arms on the mattress, blushing.

"Is that a yes?" he asks, fingers snaking to your inner thigh and your hips roll slowly at the feeling. He hums when he sees you nod into your forearms.

"On your knees, baby," he suggests, tapping your thigh. You adjust onto your knees, forearms still on the mattress in a perfect deep arch. He sits back at first, taking a moment to marvel at your ass in the air -- committing it to memory. He keeps his hand on your inner thigh, massaging gently while you settle into position.

"Open up a little more for me," he's gentle, pushing at your flesh so you open up wider. You adjust and he grins, sliding his boxers off -- you whimper when he does.

"You okay?" his voice laces with acute concern, it wasn't a sexy whine or cry like you usually do. He stands up so he can soothe you from the side of the bed, his hand smoothing over your back.

"I thought you were gonna -- I didn't know we were immediately gonna fuck," you say, leaning your face to the side to look at him.

"Oh no - I wasn't just gonna - when have I ever just gone in and fucked you?" he laughs, "I just wanna jerk off while you sit on my face, is that okay?"

"So much for me begging for you," you smirk, "Sitting on your face, just like old times."

He huffs a breath through his nose looking down at you, his face unimpressed. He leans forward, face inches away from yours, "Who was just whining over the idea that I might not eat her pussy tonight?"

You burn at his words and he notices, "Was it you?"

You nod with an embarrassed smile, "If you're a good girl, I'll let you be the boss next time. I'll teach you a few things, yeah?"

"Steeeeve," you whine while your skin is in flames, "You can't say that."

He gets on the bed behind you, one hand on the bend of your hip, the other with his fingers sliding against your open folds -- finding slicknes without surprise.

"Can't say what?" he asks with a smile, "Can't call you my good girl?"

Your hips push back on his fingers when he says it and you scold yourself at your body's betrayal. You hear him tutt behind you and you clench around nothing at the sound, "Sure feels like I can."

He slides under you like a well versed mechanic, arms and hands immediately wrapping around your thighs, stifiling their nervous jiggle. He guides you down to his mouth, your posture changing while you sit further up and back so you can see his eyes and he can see all of you. Your hips wiggle as you feel his breath on your opening.

"Are you excited?" he asks, you nod and he can't hold out anymore at the sight of your smile. You feel his tongue drag, poking between your folds once you relaxed -- his fingers reaching to keep you spread open to start.

Your smile transforms to a pornographic gasp, head immediately thrown back as his tongue stripes you again. Your hips rock against his mouth, Steve smirks to himself into the next lick, flicking over your clit and a peal of mewls escape your lips.

He feels at home here, your full, thick thighs keeping his ears warm in the December weather. This big cold house suddenly feeling full with your voice moaning his name. He didn't need the whiskey if you were offering to quench his thirst like this.

You feel his tongue lap at your opening, the thick, wet, muscle pushing in past your walls trying to desperate to out maneuver him. His face was coated in your juices, dripping freely own onto his chin and cheeks while he fucked you with his tongue. He watched as your hand reached down to tease your clit, he caught it in his, pushing it up to your breasts.

"Play with your tits f'me baby, let me watch," he says, scooting up a bit.

"But Steve I --" you huff, desperate for some extra stimulation.

"I'm getting there, if you'd just be patient for like, twenty seconds," his voice sounds like he's back at the bar, admonishing you like you're rushing him to get out of the bathroom.

"You're ruining the mood," you cross your arms over your chest, pouting.

"Aww, I'm ruining the mood?" he mocks, a fake frown matching yours. He slides a finger slowly past your tight walls and you falter a little but hold to your convictions. He holds eye contact with you through his glasses, pushing a second finger in to meet the first.

Your mouth gapes, eyes pricking with tears as your walls close down hard on him, "Am I still ruining the mood, baby?"

A silent cry rattles your chest, falling quietly out of your open mouth. Your eyes close tight while he snickers, pumping his fingers in a steady rhythm, "It's all better now, isn't it?"

His voice makes you dizzy, he used to talk to you like this when you first started fucking. Cocky and confident -- certain he was making you feel good, and fuck he was. What did he ask you to do before? Your brain was racking for the command, but too overwhelmed with pleasure when he hooked his fingers to find your g-spot.

"Stevie -- oh fuck, fuck, please more," you whine out, you sound pathetic but you can't even find your self to care. It feels like a roller coaster reaching it's peak with every curve of his fingers teasing your spongey center. 'Play with your tits f'me baby, let me watch.' There it is, that you could do. You palm your breasts, pulling and pinching at your hard nipples looking down at him over your belly pooch. He winks when his tongue finally makes contact with your clit and you shudder instantly. You gush over his fingers, taken by surprised by your own orgasm -- already feeling the second one building.

"That's my good girl," he purrs beneath you, "Stay just like that, okay? I'm not done."

You gulp, feeling his soft kitten licks back on your clit start to ramp up to fast flutters -- Steve didn't want to start you back up slowly. Your breath had barely steadied before it picked back up again, flexing your core to keep yourself hovering above him. Your hand reached down to his hair, tugging while your thighs tensed.

"Ride my face, baby, come on," he encourged, "You've never been nervous to do it before."

"I --," you hesitated, "I didn't with Andy -- it's been a while."

"What?" he asked, surprised, pushing up so his full head peeked out from between your legs, "Are you fucking with me?"

"He...ugh, Steve," you leaned your head back and then turned it back down, mumbling, "He said I was too heavy."

Steve's eyes furrow, mouth open, unsure at first how to respond -- aghast, "This guy sounds like a fucking loser. You're not too heavy -- god -- who says 'no' to that? What's wrong this this guy?"

Steve shakes his head and pushes back down, "Sit on my face, baby. Fuckin' suffocate me."

You don't have a choice, he pulls you down onto him, your knees sliding further apart and you can't help but start grinding your hips against his tongue. The whole act sounds as lewd as it looks, wet and sticky as he captures your slit in his mouth to suck on it. Spreading your ass in his hands to spread you further apart, moaning low into your pussy so you can feel the vibration through your core.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ooh daddy just like that," the words just pour out of you while you start reaching your second peak, hips writhing onto him with your back arched. Steve grips your ass cheek hard before smacking down on it with a loud 'thwap!', satisfaction burning in his stomach -- daddy, daddy, daddy. The same hand reaches for his neglected cock, covered in pre, leaving a patch of cold liquid on his hard, muscled stomach.

Steve feels your hips hump his mouth in quick succession, his nose bumping your clit rapidly. Your moans get shorter and higher with each flick of his tongue against you until they're just huffed breaths.

"Mmm, come on," he nods up at you, "You can do it, angel."

You nod back, face contorted while tears stain your cheeks, the next roll of your hips his mouth makes contact with your clit again. You see stars, you cum so hard you swear you're pissing. You can hear Steve's grunts under you, collecting your slick to add friction to the fist he's fucking behind you.

"Get on your back," he demands, "Need t'fuck you, holy shit."

You get on your back, looking up at him now on his knees, both of your eyes lust blown in the low light. You weren't a stranger to his cock, but every time you saw it you couldn't help but feel spit build in your mouth. It was angry tonight, tip red and leaking, veins pulsing while he stroked himself looking down at you.

"I don't know, Stevie -- it might be -- it's too much," you say, thighs pressing together to protect your sensitive cunt.

"Two is nothing, honey," he shakes his head opening your legs up, crawling over you to line his tip up with your entrance, "You've given me four in less time."

You whine like a child, but you don't stop him when he slides the tip against your entrance, building up the slickness to slide over his cock. When his tip pops in you hiss, back arching to feel another inch push into you.

"Oh, that shut you up, huh?" that voice was back again, Steve was starting to feel so confident, you might as well start calling him Manhattan. He pushes deep into you, all the way to the hilt -- your legs springing up against your chest automatically -- heels hitting his back.

"You feel so good, Stevie," you moan into his mouth while he leans in to kiss you.

"Pussy's fucking made for me," he rasps while his thrusts pick up, forceful and deliberate. Steve loves fucking you because he knows how well you can take it. You were built sturdy, plush, soft -- he loved how it felt to slam into you. He'd heard it on the radio, some cheesy line 'more cushion for the pushin', but fuck if it wasn't true.

Steve knew he wouldn't last long inside you, your pussy tight and wet -- hugging him in place, resisting his exit. He filled you completely, your eyes rolling back the second you felt the hair at the base of his cock tickle your skin over and over again.

"Steve, oh god Steve," you moan through gritted teeth, tears back to rolling down your cheeks as your nails dig into his back, "Just like that daddy, fuck me like that."

His mouth falls open at your words, the girls on his desk never talk like that. He can't fuck them how he wants to, never throws them around. They don't look at him the way you look at him, soft and pretty. They don't wanna wash his hair for him in the shower after, and kiss the freckles on his back. He doesn't wanna make them dinner after, or give them a ride home. He doesn't blush the way he does when it's you that calls him daddy. When you call out his name. When you look up at him with those eyes. When you hold his hand in the car. When you tease him for coming to Porter's early. When you call every time you come home just to see him when you could see anyone else.

Steve's hand finds your jaw but you guide it to your throat while you bounce against his thrusts, he chuckles wickedly, "When'd you turn into such a whore?"

His fingers press down expertly on your neck while you attempt to moan out an answer that he doesn't wanna hear. He just wants to keep watching your fucked out face and body while he drills into you deeper. His voice lilts into a mocking coo, your cunt drools.

"Just for me, isn't it?" he asks down at you through his glasses, and you nod quickly in his hold, "They're not fuckin' you like this in the city, huh?"

"Had to come all the way back to Indiana to get this dick, didn't you? All the way back home so daddy could fuck you just how you like it," he huffs, feeling himself get close.

"Yes, yes -- had t-to come back for you - oh fuck, fuck," you whine out, raspy and nasal from lack of blood flow.

"Who fucks you like I do, hm? Who else is makin' you come like I can?" he eases up on your throat, moving back to your jaw -- leaning in to give you a sloppy tongue kiss into your gasping mouth. You tighten again over him, gushing whatever creamy spend you had left in you, gripping his shoulder tightly while your eyes pinched closed.

When you're nose to nose again you look up at him, "Nobody, Stevie. Just you, it's just you."

He growls at the confirmation, his hips stuttering -- 'Nobody fucks her like I do,' ringing in his head while he feels his vision start to go white.

"Baby, baby," he starts, his voice softening, "God, fuck -- can I come in your mouth?"

You nod and he groans, panting while your wet walls keep his cock warm and tight inside you. Steve slows his thrusts which just makes the feeling more intoxicating, your sticky thighs meshing with his soaked hilt. You whimper and cry with every push into your overstimulated cunt, your legs almost giving out from being pressed against your chest.

"Jesus Christ. Gonna come in your mouth," he whispers into your neck, "Feels -- oh shit -- fuck, it feels so good in your pussy, though."

Steve knows he can't hold back, quickly pulling out of you while you shoot up onto your elbows. He pulls your head forward with one fell swoop of his big hand, your mouth and thrat sucking in his cock in a vice grip. You can feel the warm liquid start shooting into your mouth immediately, but it doesn't stop you from obediently sucking on it. He's peak caveman brain while he watches you, your eyes shining up at him while he holds his weight up on your head -- grunts and snarls coming out of his mouth while he finishes thrusting into your face.

You take your mouth off as he softens and swallow, gingerly sitting up slowly. Your thighs ache, you're exhausted. He sits down onto his calves, both of you panting on the center of the bed.

"Let me -- let me get you some water," he huffs out, sliding off the mattress into the attatched master bathroom. He's only gone for ten seconds, passing a clear glass into your shaking hand. You sip slowly to start before gulping it down.

"You okay?" he asks, leaning over to kiss your forehead, "You're quiet."

You nod, taking a deep breath and letting it out, "That was...insane."

He laughs, it makes you laugh, and he lays down onto the mattress to stare up at you. You look down at him, offering Steve a weak smile before looking back at your empty water cup. You slide off the bed like he did before, putting the glass back on the bathroom counter, peeing, washing your hands, and walking back out.

You let out a tired sigh, reaching for your clothes strewn about by his dresser -- sliding on your panties.

"What're you doin', Manhattan?" he asks, sitting up, "Got somewhere to be?"

"I'm getting dressed, Steve," you explain, putting your bra back on. Steve's chest hollowed, normally you'd have some pillow talk after -- talk it out. He still had to show you the new house decor.

"Hey, stop," his voice is soft as he waves his hand at you, "You don't have to do that."

"I gotta get home, Steve," you assure, "It's getting late."

"You..." he trails off before taking a deep breath, replenishing his confidence, "You could stay. I can drive you back in the morning."

"Steve..." you start, shimmying a little to get your jeans over your hips and thighs, "I never stay. That's not us, that's not what we do."

"It could be..." he suggests, his voice cracking a little, "Please?"

You stand there, in your bra and unbuttoned jeans, your tummy poking out where the zipper is undone. Your bra suddenly feels tight and uncomfortable, your underwear constricting you under the jeans that feel a size too small.

He looks you over, watching you contemplate it and gets up out of bed to meet you by his dresser. His hands reach to each side of your face, warm and big. His fingertips graze the hair at the edge of your scalp, pinkies and ring fingers on the back of your neck. He tilts your head up slightly to look at him and your heart hammers, more than it did the first time he started kissing you in his car. Steve's heart matches your cadence, remembering how nervous he was the first time he talked to you -- desperately wanting you to be impressed by him.

"I --" you start blushing, he's never looked at you quite like this, "I don't have anything to wear to bed."

"I don't want you to wear anything to bed," he says, leaning forward to capture your lips in his while you both step awkwardly as a unit back over to the bed, "It'd just get in the way in the morning."

"Please stay," he pleads again, pressing a gentle peck on your lips, "Please -peck-, please -peck-, please -peck-. "

"Okay, okay," you laugh, "Are you sure?"

"I'm begging you," he smiles, leaning his forehead against yours. The tops of his frames hitting your brow bone. He lets go of your face to make work of the top of your jeans, shoving them back down until they pool at your ankles. He unhooks your bra, a little too expertly, and snaps the band of your satin panties before rolling those down too. He moves down with them so he can skate his hands over your thighs and leave a warm kiss on the flesh over your hip bone -- apologizing to the bruise he left there earlier.

"Can't believe you kept your glasses on," you tease, "Dweeb."

He comes back up, sliding his glasses off smoothly, like he did in the back seat of his BMW five years ago, "I like being able to really see you."

"Am I blurry without them?" you asked, trying to take them out of his hand. He snatches them out of your grasp, hiding them behind his back.

"Not really," he says, walking over to the bedside table and placing them next to the lamp, "You told me they made me look handsome back in - think it was -- '94 maybe? -- So I just wanted to keep them on for insurance."

You look down at the floor, "I always think you look handsome, Harrington."

You feel his hand at the back base of your neck and turn to see him behind you, "Come back to bed." 

He gets under the sheets and both duvets and turns down the covers next to him, slapping the pillow you're going to sleep on to beckon you forward. You want to roll your eyes but you can't force down the giddiness building in your chest -- sleep over!

You maneuver over to your side of the bed, slipping under the covers while he turns them back over you to tuck you in. Fuck are the sheets nice, they had to be some luxury brand you can only order through a catalog.

Steve clicks off his bedside lamp, leaning over you to click off yours and you catch the remnants of his cologne on his skin. It's not long before you feel his hand skate over you under the covers, sliding over your belly, up over every curve and bump on your body before resting a warm hand on the side of your breast. He hums sleepily and pulls you close to him, pressing his chest against your shoulder. His hot breath fans against your neck where he's settled his head.

"Isn't this nice?" he asks. You nod, turning onto your side to face him while his hand splays across your back to pull you closer. You slide a hand under the pillow, and savor the coolness on your hot skin. Steve looks at you with soft eyes, studying you.

"Can I tell you something?" he asks, "Or, well, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course," you say, looking at him, trying to read his expression.

"Remember -- ah fuck, okay I'm doing this," he says, trying to psyche himself up, "Remember when I said I had some options? To make changes?"

"Yeah, I remember. You can't wait when those opportunities come, Harrington," you lecture, "I've fucked myself so many times with that."

"There's a position in the New York office," he blurts out, "In the head quarters that they're eyeing me for."

Your heart races, "Okay."

"And I'd be...I don't know, sort of demoted but I'd get a huge -- like, huge fucking pay raise," he explains, "And I -- I wanna take it."

A beat passes while he tries to figure out what to say.

"And maybe, I don't know -- maybe we could try this out? Like for real? Instead of just fucking around every Christmas."

You consider it, heat blooming in your cheeks -- the good kind. Your heart starts to swell -- not Steve Harrington asking you out when you're twenty-nine. Sixteen year old you would be screaming.

"What do you think?" he asks, he swipes his hand through his hair and even in the dark you know his cheeks are pink.

"I don't think it's a bad idea," you say, "I think it's the excitement you're looking for -- New York I mean, not me."

"I think you're really exciting," he leans in to kiss you with a grin.

"And I think," he presses his lips against yours again, "I'd do a pretty good job at taking care of you, if you let me."

You laugh through your nose, blushing hard while he kisses your cheek, "That sounds nice, doesn't it?"

"It does sound nice, Steve," you agree, but you don't want him to feel too good about it. You had a reputation to uphold, still. He leans back to look at you, thumb caressing your cheek as your lids fall half down your eyes, "I think I'd really like that."

"You wanna shower? You too tired?" his voice his so gentle you start to melt, but exhaustion weighs heavy on you.

"Too tired," you say, nuzzling forward into his neck -- your head now partially on his pillow.

"We can talk about it more in the morning, yeah?" he asks, a hand reaching up to smooth over your hair.

"Yeah," you said, your breath steadying, "I'll see you in the morning."

He knows you don't like eggs for breakfast but it's all he has in the fridge. It's fine. He'll just order in.

[sinvilles]

Gathering my thoughts: Danielle Stopframe analysis

also like. I'm not concerned with whether any character in the series was "redeemed" or not. the show was cut in half, and so was every character arc. hence we end up with a show that got cancelled when all the main characters were at their lowest point of development in the narrative, and all the surrounding characters getting half developed to a point of mild satisfaction.

Danielle seems to get the least amount of interest when it comes to what makes him tick. He's a favorite of mine because of all the characters in Moralton, he's one of the few who is very unashamed of who he is and wears it on his sleeve. And I like that his weird presence is built up from the very start of the series. He's over the assumptions of others, and chooses to be himself, which in a show where the major theme is repression juxtaposes him as a foil to the rest of the town.

I wanted to make a mental inventory of this character, starting with some of his personality traits:

The Coach

Danielle is a body builder, and athletic coach to both adults and children. He's coached tennis, track, plays golf, figure skates- he understands discipline, long-term goal setting and is patient enough to work with others to achieve what they're trying to get. Being good with kids has nothing to do with it- its all about being consistent and doing it every day. He seems to approach everything like this- more of that obsession quality. Though he's not beyond trying to perform witchcraft to speed thing up a bit when he gets impatient.

He doubles as your typical gym bunny gay man. Self eroticized, willing to do anything to achieve that romanticized ideal. This brings us to the next bit.

Narcissistic qualities (classic + clinical)

Stopframe is obsessed with appearances. Good appearances means discipline to him, which might be what attracted him to Clay in the first place. But its all very surface level of course. When he sees people without discipline- like the hedonistic satanists, many of whom were overweight- their indulgence, both sexual and gluttonous, turned him off so hard he called it a night and went home. Which is funny coming from the guy with a piss kink.

"Sorry Clay, its just not worth it."

It echoes back later, when he throws out Clay's picture the moment he calls him up for a nightcap at midday. It seems he was either unaware of the extent of Clay's alcoholism or that it had never been that bad up until that point. I think the latter is more likely, since Clay's drinking isn't as pathological throughout the series until we get to Nature. Also suggests to me that Clay, while already having drinking problems prior, started drinking more after he met Danielle. We do see Stopframe say he's "better when he drinks" at least once, and Clay can only really go out and see him at Forghetty's. But this is a tangent for a Clay alcoholism analysis.

He cares very little for his family- Shapey is little more than a long distance trophy to him. I guess. I think. Shapey hugged him that time so I wonder if he ever gives him presents or comes to his birthdays (he was at Orel's). He only spends time with Joe when he's foisted upon him, otherwise ignoring him. He assumes he isn't any good with children, I think because he dislikes Joe's attitude.

A big reason I think his development is unfinished- and this is under the lens of character arcs as want vs need, where getting something they needed makes the character whole- is that we don't see him own up to the fact that he's as flawed as anybody else. He admits he has a problem, but he didn't find the root of it- namely that real love involves accepting the flaws of others and choosing to be there for them anyway. He didn't even own up to disrupting the Puppington home, which he had done intentionally and calculatingly for years. All interesting paths for his character.

Person Addiction

Danielle, much like Clay, has an addiction. It's a lesser known thing called Limerence, or "Person Addiction". Not everyone is aware it's even a thing- some people go through it once in their life, some people cycle through it over and over. There are people who mistake it for love. Scott Adsit once mentioned in a promo that Stopframe is "obsessed with Clay because he hasn't slept with him"- it's one way to describe it, specifically the way a lot of men tend to experience it. Having been through it once I can say with full clarity that it makes you feel temporarily insane and can mirror both anxious attachment and OCD. Realistically, it only feels much creepier than it actually is, because very few who go through it in real life ever want to indulge it the way Stopframe does- pictures everywhere, seducing the guy's wife, fathering a child with her just to insert his DNA into their family, so that Clay raises HIS son alongside his own... absolutely cuckoo bird. Even the part where he says Bloberta is only sexy by her association to Clay- that is the logic that person addiction runs on. Because Clay is literally a hit to him, he gets an oxytocin high from being near him or thinking about him. When he's away from Clay he goes through a withdrawal, sitting alone in the shower and holding himself. Clay is his worst habit.

So, walk with me… his plan to sleep with Clay involves sleeping with his wife first. Because if she commits infidelity, what's to stop Clay from doing it? and then he just has to wait years for the ball to drop and for Clay to eventually walk out. He has no problem fixating on this for almost a decade, but actively puts off ever interacting with Clay until the first episode of the series- even then its just to watch him piss on the wall, and then walk away. He avoids knowing Clay, because I think for a long time he's afraid of ruining the idea he has of him in his head- the idealized Clay that doesn't exist, the built up image. This is not to say that Limerence doesn't happen if you know the person well (its worse somehow), but he's able to easily quit him the moment that Orel tells him what Clay is really like.

Loneliness

It's not easy being queer in a place like Moralton. For one, the gay dating pool must be tiny since so many would be in the closet, or move out altogether. The culture is so 50s adjacent he might have to limit himself to cruising public bathrooms or exchanging letters long distance- its no wonder he fixated on Clay. Something about it might feel "safe" to him, compared to actively getting to know somebody. I don't think he has a problem getting laid so much as a problem connecting to others, which was why it was so sweet to see him make an effort to have a fun day with Orel in the finale.

Family

I might be in the minority on this but I don't think Stopframe is related to Bendy. If the Secondopinionsons wanted to keep Joe's mother a secret they needed to fully cut ties with anyone in her family- and she was a child at the time, so some hush money was definitely involved, maybe enough to send her to nursing school. For Stopframe to be babysitting Joe, he'd have to be in the immediate family of his father- the fact that he has a different name is of interest to me, and the fact that he's so much younger than Dr. Secondopinionson. He could very well have been a bastard child who either changed his name later or was raised primarily by and named after an unwed mother- perpetuating the cycle with Shapey so to speak.

The Romantic Agnostic

He's a big fan of Gothic Erotica, and vampires. Big on fantasizing. Open to trying anything. He is wishy washy on the topic of religion, switching from worshipping God to Satan on a whim. Makes sense, if God loves all his children, but hates homosexuality, and Satan hates all humanity, and loves homosexuality- you've got a 50% chance of pleasing either. I think he probably loves Halloween.

andddd thats all I got

[magentasnail]

hello I do not know anything about Undertale but I am interested in hearing about your children! I think I am in a similar situation with Little Nightmares, haha.

OMG THANK YOU I LOVE YOU!!! i can let this information out without feeling too annoying because now i'm answering an ask so it's fine !! it's going to be so long I'm so sorry, but what are we on tumblr for if not to rumble about our interests, right? also i hope the fact you don't know undertale doesn't make this too confusing !! also spoiler warning i guess ??

general world building:

the humans have forgotten about the monsters and magic, they are only remembered in myths and legends (i made a cool thing about it)

all of the humans had a similar experience to us playing the game, they learned about the monster history, made friends and eventually kinda gave up in hope to help the monsters

right so, first human: chara!

chara is already in the game, but I think i made them the richest backstory

"chara" is a nickname, their name is actually character. they were bullied for that name and they really hate it, wishing they could get any other name (like what happens at the start of the game!)

they were named character because of an old tradition to name kids based on the first word you see in the spell book that runs in their family. however the book is encrypted, and their parents ended up on a random character they couldn't read.

they didn't get along with the other kids in school, and were trying to study their behavior so they can understand them better by taking notes of what they said and drawing their facial expressions (the way text is shown in the game!)

eventually, they came to the conclusion they don't like the other children and don't want to be like them, so they decided to learn how to push them away (by making scary faces!)

always get red eyes in photos

next: patience soul! i'll be honset i wrote these stories 6 years ago, i think everyone had names but i don't remember them anymore, so all the children will now be called their soul trait gbfdjfd

patience was a girl from chara's village, and chara's only friend! or well chara was patiance only friend. their parents were friends so when they hung out patience and chara were left to play together. patience liked chara as she was home school and didn't get to play with other kids, while chara was mostly annoyed about the whole thing and felt like patience friendship wasn't genuine, as they were forced into hanging out

she really likes cute things, like dressing cute and putting on make up! she introduced chara to make up which ended up helping chara make scary faces (such as melty face look)

she wanted to be a Dr when she grows up, hence the toy knife (meant to be like a surgery knife for children) and the bandages at the flowey fight

when chara left to the mountain, patience just waited for them to come back. they waited and waited, until asriel got to the village. only then they decide to go to the mountain. they found out chara died very shortly after getting underground, and so lost their determination and was killed easily.

they got to the underground right after asgore declared war against humanity, asogre probably hoped it will take a while for a human to arrive but one fell down and was killed really soon! this just made more sense to me for why toriel left without talking asgore out of it, and why she hates him so much. things escalated really quick

bravery soul!

youngest brother of like 5 older brothers and a single dad.

his brothers always bullied him for being soft and girlie (I also considered him being afab but im not sure !)

got the worn boxing gloves his dad used to have when he was young, they have big holes and patches

also maybe his mom died when he was born, and she was also a red head like him, which is part of the femininity stuff ?

as part of a prank, his brothers dared him to go to the mountain and come back to prove himself thinking he won't go, but he did!

didn't stay with toriel because he was in a rush to get home to prove his brothers he did it

integrity!! this is where me not being a native english speaker gets me because I'm not sure what integrity means and it ruined their backstory a bit! I used to treat it as "being true to yourself" but now I think it's more about staying true to your morals, which is a bit different oops !

amab and nonbinary! their mom used to be a ballet dancer and now is a ballet teahcer

they were the only male student, and were jealous and hurt that all the girls got to wear tutus but them, and thought it wasn't fair

they sneakily stole their mom old dusty tutu from the attic and were secretly practicing in their room, until they were caught

they felt so guilty and ashamed that they ran away from home to the mountain

toriel reminded them of their mom, and how worried she must be, so they didn't stay with her

perseverance!!

kindness' little sister!

while looking for books in the library, she stumbled upon and old and encrypted spell book (yes this is the book that was in chara's family!) after a lot of hard work she learned how to decrypt it using some context clues, and with it she learned about the monsters and magic and even a few spells!

when she tried talking about her findings nobody took her seriously, and people at her school made fun of her

even her brother was trying to be supportive but didn't really believe her, which prompted her to run away to the mountain to prove everyone the monsters are real and she's right

in the underground, she was able to use her spells! like the unused spell option in the original battle menu! she also befriended Gerson as they shared their love to history, and she gave him her notebook and glasses (as they were fogging up too much to see out of anyway) as a parting gift! (maybe she also casted a duplication spell on them, considering the infinite supply at his store?)

also she didn't stay with Toriel because she was focused on getting back home to show everyone she was right at that stage

kindness!

perseverance older brother !

honestly, he's just a cutie that likes to cook! will often make and food just for sharing with his classmates

when perseverance was sad that nobody was taking her seriously, he went to make her favorite food to cheer her up. she wasn't answering him for a bit and assumed she just locked herself in her room because she was sad, so he gave her some time until eventually he decided to come in to check on her and realized she ran away through the window

he was probably a few hours behind her on the adventure, both as he gave her time, and he checked up a few places before going to the mountain, and he was more lost and confused than her when it came to exploring (also he was wearing flip flops still, which slowed him down)

didn't stay with Toriel because he was determined to find his sister, but then he found out she sacrificed herself, and decided to join her (both for the monsters and for her sake out of guilt)

justice!! she's the only one I know their name! her name is mustard !! just like undertale yellow I was tempted to call her clover based on the "clover" shooting from her gun at the flowey fight, but actually according to the file name this is not a clover but a flower! and mustard has a yellow flower with 4 petals and it's cute !!

moved to the village near the mountain with her family only recently, and this was their first Halloween in the town! and actually her first Halloween ever, as where she used to live they didn't celebrate it

she loves cowboys ! her grandpa was an actor in old cowboy films, he passed before she was born so she only know him through these films, and thinks he was a real cowboy

the gun she has is his old gun, that she got from her dad for her costume

she saw a group of bullies picking up on a younger child and trying to steal his candy, so she jumped to protect him saying she has a gun, but that didn't go very well as that terrified the small child and made them ran away. she tried to ran after them but ended up getting lost on the mountain

didn't stay with toriel because she wanted to return to her parents who must have been worried for her

lastly we got frisk!! i didn't get much background for frisk but more like a bunch of headcanons about them

probably homeless? and honestly, might have hit their head when climbing the mountain and suffer from amnesia, so they don't know their backstory either so it's fine!

really need glasses! explaining the small eyes and the whole game being pixelated and the small screen size, they just can't see

when asriel said frisk and chara have similar fassion choices he didn't mean like the striped shirt (as all children wear striped shirts) but like the way they have an under layer, cargo shorts for more pockets (also inventory space has to do with how many pockets you have!!) and boots !

fell underground the same age chara did, so like 10? and chara spent like a year underground

went to the mountain because it was some sort of a calling? they didn't really understand why but they felt like they needed to

also this is a headfanon but I'm for frisk and chara being far relatives!

wooo we did it all humans !!! now some extra general stuff:

the red soul's trait is love!!

all the humans came back to life after the asriel fight!!! and their body were fully healed and fine! Asgore probably bandaged them as he buried them in the coffins, and when they woke up (and opened chara's coffin seeing it's empty) they left their bandages there explaining the mummy wrapping that appear

considering it's been decades since some of them fell down, they had no where to go after this, and were all adopted by toriel! which also motivated her to open the school ! this idea of all of them being roomates and living together is what sparked all of this in the first place, i just really wanted to have a blog where people ask me things as them

at the end of the flowey fight, all of their soul traits "evolved", as seen with the color change when you ask for help, completing their character arc. all of them were helping flowey as part of their flaw, but frisk calling for help helped them change. for example, just as patience was always waiting to see what will happen, she wasn't trying to stand up to flowey, but she learned to be more brave and act! bravery learned to stop complying to every dare he gets and stand for himself and so on.

and that's everything i think !! if you made it all this way you get a sticker! i hope this helped with whatever boredom you were facing !

now i can stop worrying about how their story will never be out there, as it is now! and if nobody cares that's fine !!

[wowowwild]

My totk polycube (more details and revisions below, i'm not remaking the picture, I already id'd it rip)

I also like the idea that Link, Zelda, Mipha, and Urbosa used to have a cube, likely of a different make-up. Big fan of cubes. Also while I don't see Zelda and Sidon being a thing, I could def see Yona and Link being a thing. What kind of thing? *shrugs and gestures vaguely*

Do we want my hcs on their relationships? I already put a read more so it's not like it's hurting anybody... Alright! You've convinced me.

Zelink: By qpr in this case specifically it's like, besties who hold hands, sleep in the same bed, go on dates (usually revolving around one of their special interests, but sometimes just a picnic or trip), and probably kiss sometimes. Hyrule is super excited about their hero and princess being in a relationship, Hyrule doesn't need to know the details. They do have separation anxiety though, especially on Link's end bc Zelda seems to disappear every time they get separated but they're all very understanding about this. Probably could have marked their line as state recognized qpr bc they probably get married for political reasons.

Sidlink: They freak it nasty style but are also big cuddlers and acts of service and quality time type of people. Muzu is the only one outside the cube to clock them for a while and he's a little mad about it, but Yona and Zelda step in to gaslight him so hard so he feels like he can't say anything.

Zelyona: a product of hanging out with sidlink (bc sidlink already knew each other) and realizing 'oh that person is super chill and very nice and also pretty??? Like really pretty??? By the goddess this can't be happening...' but in general an easy relationship, an easy love. They also probably freak it nasty style. I think they do less of the romance stuff (I hc Zelda as aromantic so...)

Sidona: Childhood friends married for political convenience but they were never against it. Like 'omg I get to marry my bestie for the good of the Domain? Pog.' Another easy relationship but whereas I think zelyona would fall, sidona just kind of naturally slipped into love and was content with that.

Yoink (ik that's not their name but I like it): They both just want their partners to be happy and bond well over that. I think they do casual affection in a platonic way but are not against threesomes or foursomes. I guess I could have put them as qpr bbs.

Sidon&Zelda (idk if they even have a name, pls lmk): They are the most platonic out of the group and it takes them a little longer to get comfortable with each other (not that they were UNcomfortable, just that they didn't know each other as well and mostly they were making time for each other to hang out with their partners so they didn't see each other as much until they started going on group dates). Sidon gives Zelda access to historical records and texts and Zelda teaches Sidon about technology that Purah makes. They enjoy making fun of Link together, and on occasion Yona, but let's be honest, Link is nearly feral so there's a lot more to make fun of.

Politics:

Sidon and Yona have to go to all of the political stuff together they way link and zelda do but it's really funny when both pairs are at the same political thing and every other political figure is like side eyeing their group trying to figure out if cheating is happening or what bc why is Sir Link in Prince Sidon's lap and why is Queen Zelda slow dancing with Lady Yona but the four of them just gaslight everyone. The people who know them know, but anyone who's not close just has to sit there guessing. It's kind of an open secret in their circles, and wouldn't be a problem in general if it weren't for the fact that one of them is a king and another a queen so neither of them or their official partners can technically be consorts of each other or in general really.

Sidon can still talk to Link the way he always has bc he's always been a little homoerotic about it (and they literally put up a statue of Link riding Sidon in town square so I think maybe Zora are just LIKE THAT TM) so they all just mimic how he speaks and blame it on the Zora-Hylian cultural exchange. Pretty much everyone in the Rito village knows, though. Tulin might have let it slip, but they super don't care so it's not a problem.

I may eventually write pieces of this idk.

[queermediaismypassion]

sick and tired of people saying everyone who support bucktommy while disliking buck's previous love interests are misogynistic

sure, that is most likely the case for some, however i am TIRED of people refusing to listen to why some didn't like buck's love interests.

let's take a look at why his love interests have been disliked, other than buddie shippers simply not wanting to see him with anyone else:

abby: i actually don't know lol i quite enjoyed her up until the point where she fucking left him and lead him on for months. i guess some people really hated the age gap but they're both adults so it shouldn't matter

taylor kelly: yikes where do i start. in her first few appearances when she's filming at the station she blatantly exploits bobby's relapse and near-attempt. even let's buck believe she's going to ask them not to air it then fights for it to air. she then returns seemingly out of nowhere because not even fox or the writers gave a fuck abt earthquake girl and they couldn't have buck be single for some reason. she became more likable, i genuinely was starting to enjoy them as friends, but then they're thrown into another forced romance. they also did not bother to try and redeem her after the whole bobby thing. she was selfish from beginning to end and would throw anyone around her under the bus to further her career. (a personal and very petty reason for me is also they literally look like siblings i can't handle it)

earthquake girl: i swear i'm not trying to be cynical but i deadass don't even remember her name that's how much of a non-character she was

tinder date: this should go without explanation she was rude as fuck and actively looking for reasons to dislike buck and make the date unpleasant for both of them

natalia: (that's her name right?) we disliked her for the same reason buck broke up with her !! she had a WEIRD obsession with buck's "death". literally would not shut up about his very traumatic experience. and that was it ! her one (1) personality trait was "she's obsessed with death to an unhealthy extent"

personally, i don't even like tommy that much. him making that joke when buck clearly wasn't ready to come out to eddie was vile. i definitely don't want bucktommy endgame, but it gave us bisexual buck ! let us celebrate some fucking representation. celebrating a queer man finally coming to terms with his sexuality is not a personal attack on women. be so fr.

[mcntsee]

Letters to her

prologue

summary: kaz’s letter to y/n throughout the years.

warnings: Kaz’s past is kinda mentioned, mentions of death, cursing

note: I tried to express kaz’s feelings and growth with every start and finish of all the letters, hopefully you guys understand it too. I added a little something at the end, hope you enjoy! <3333

first letter:

Deer y/n

My da said you can came come play wheneber you want to come play with my me again can you please come play with me soon pleas?

I miss you and Jordie miss and da and the little kitteny miss you we all misses you very much

Love Kaz!

(I drawed a pist picture of you and me and spots playing)

2nd letter

Dear Y/N,

I hope you're doing okay. I wanted to say a big thank you for being there when we said bye to my da. It made me feel better knowing you were there, even though it was kinda sad.

Guess what? Jordie said we're gonna move to Ketterdam. He says it's cause he wants me to go to a good school there. I'm not sure about leaving this house, but Jordie says it'll be good for us.

The cool part is that you live in Ketterdam! That means we can hang out more and play together. Remember when we used to build forts in the living room and pretend we were pirates? Maybe we can do that in Ketterdam too.

I'll miss this house a bit because it's where we played hide and seek and had ice cream parties, but I think Ketterdam will be fun too. And I'm really happy cause we'll get to see each other more often!

I will see you soon, okay?

Love, Kaz!

3rd letter

Dear y/n,

I'm really, really sorry I haven't come to see you yet. It's not 'cause I don't want to, I promise. You're still my bestest friend ever. It's just that things got a little crazy since we arrived.

Jordie met this guy named Jacob Hertzoon. And guess what? Jacob offered us a whole bunch of money for our house! Jordie said it's a really good thing 'cause we can use the money for important stuff. But it also means we're super busy.

I didn't want you to think I forgot about you or anything. I miss you a lot and I still want to see you and play together. Maybe once we're all settled in our new place and get the money, we can have a big adventure like we used to.

Thanks for being the best friend ever. I promise we'll hang out soon, okay?

Love, Kaz!

4th letter

Y/N,

Are you okay? Please write back! Jordie is gone. I need to know you're alive.

Kaz.

5th letter

Y/N,

I heard you went on quite the journey to Shu Han just to retrieve my cane. I assume the trip was bearable. Your efforts are appreciated.

It's curious how life unfolds, isn't it? One day we're children playing in the streets, the next we're scattered across the world for various reasons. Yet, here we are, still connected by some thread of familiarity.

I imagine you'll return from your expedition when the time is right. Until then, business with the dregs continues as usual. The city keeps turning, and so do its dealings. As for me, well, I have my own matters to attend to as soon as I’m able to walk again.

- K.B.

First note

Get well soon! Let me know if you need anything else.

- Love, Y/n!

6th letter

Y/N,

Your letter reached me, and I must admit, it contained more substance than I anticipated. Word travels fast in the Barrel, and it seems that Haskell has taken quite an interest in your recent endeavors. His words carry weight, though they seldom come without a price.

If his assessment holds true, and you manage to prove your worth in the upcoming job, it could indeed elevate you within the ranks. Haskell’s recognition of your potential is both promising and concerning. The higher one climbs, the more treacherous the fall can be.

In the midst of this, know that I await your return.

May you navigate these challenges with the same tenacity that has carried you thus far. I wish you the best of luck, Y/N. Tread carefully.

- K.B

7th letter

Y/N,

You certainly have a talent for uncovering promising recruits. Jesper Fahey. The word on the street is that he’s got a steady aim that’s worth noticing. The skills he possesses could indeed be valuable, particularly in the line of work we find ourselves engaged in.

However, I must tread cautiously when it comes to individuals entangled in debts and vices. Jesper Fahey, from what I’ve heard, is no stranger to gambling. His tendency to wager recklessly has garnered quite a reputation, one that isn’t entirely favorable. The loyalty of a man buried under the weight of debts is a precarious matter. Whether his skills can outweigh the burden of his choices remains to be seen.

Your perspective on recruits is valued, and I’ll certainly keep a watchful eye on Fahey. I trust your judgment, and I’m willing to entertain the possibility. In the midst of all this, remember that your return is anticipated and your presence missed.

Return safely,

K.B.

8th letter

Y/N,

Do you remember Jesper? It’s almost comical how, after discussing him in my last letter, fate seemed to conspire to validate our conversation. Not long after I sent those words to you, I found myself intervening to prevent Jesper from getting himself thoroughly thrashed due to his gambling debts.

I hope I’ve made the right call by extending a hand to Jesper. It’s a calculated risk, one that I’m hoping will pan out in our favor. There’s potential there, no doubt, but potential doesn’t always translate into reliability.

This letter is short, I know, but I will tell you more about it when you come back.

Stay safe,

K.B

9th letter

Y/n,

It’s been days since your last communication, and the weight of uncertainty presses heavily on me. The quiet absence of your presence has stirred an unease I’m not accustomed to.

I’ve seen you handle insane odds, and I know you’re more than capable. But here I am. My mind keeps wandering to places I’d rather it not go, imagining scenarios that could have unfolded, and none of them are sitting well with me.

I hope that this silence is a result of strategic detachment, that you’re immersed in the intricacies of the job and haven’t had a moment to spare for correspondence.

I’m not accustomed to this vulnerability, nor do I care for it. Yet, here I am, plagued by the absence of information. I ask you, if you’re able, to dispel this uncertainty. A simple message, a token of reassurance – anything to quell this rising tide of apprehension.

I await word from you with an intensity I hadn’t thought possible. May it come soon.

Expectantly,

K.B

10th letter

Y/N,

I received the coat you sent, and I must admit, it's a rare occasion when I'm at a loss for words. It's unlike anything I would've chosen for myself, yet somehow, it feels surprisingly fitting. I can't deny its utility either – I appreciate it.

Jesper and Nina have managed to cultivate a special talent for driving me to the brink of exasperation. Their camaraderie is both amusing and bewildering, a chaotic symphony that I'm still attempting to decipher.

Today was no different. Jesper's antics at the club bordered on audacious, and Nina's unbridled laughter was enough to turn heads in our direction. As I tried to navigate the sea of chaos they create, I found myself, unusually, yearning for a return to some semblance of normalcy.

I must confess, the prospect of your return holds an allure I hadn't anticipated. There's a steadiness in your presence, an understanding that's often a rare commodity in these tumultuous times. The chaos, the hustle – they feel more manageable when you're around.

Till then, I'll persevere in the sea of antics that Jesper and Nina stir up, counting down the days until your return.

Until then,

Kaz

11th letter

Y/N,

Your mention of the jurda parem caught my attention, no doubt about it. It’s a name that carries weight, and I’ve got a feeling we’re treading on some dangerous ground here. It’s the kind of thing that’s best left untouched until we’ve got a better handle on what it entails.

Listen, I won’t preach, but I’ve got to say it – be careful and keep an eye out for trouble. The city’s not known for being kind to those who don’t tread carefully, and I’d hate to see you caught in something you didn’t see coming.

I’ve got a job for you. One that’s right up your alley. It’s always better discussing these things face to face, so when you can, make your way back. The sooner, the better.

Until then,

Kaz

12th letter

Y/N,

I’ve never been one for words, as you well know. My tongue seems to have a mind of its own, often saying the wrong things at the wrong time. And when it comes to matters like these, I’ve found that my eloquence takes a swift exit.

So, here I am, writing this letter in hopes that the words come out right, that they somehow capture what I’m feeling. I’ve spent years navigating the intricacies of this city, and yet the complexities of my own emotions have managed to elude me.

I’ve always valued our connection, from those early days of childhood mischief to the present. You’ve been a constant in my life, someone whose presence brings a sense of order to the chaos that surrounds us. And somewhere along the way, that bond transformed into something deeper, something I’ve been grappling with.

I find myself wanting to say more, to articulate the thoughts that remain half-formed in my mind. But it’s difficult, Y/N, and this letter might be the best I can manage.

What I’m trying to say is that you’ve become more than a friend, more than a partner in crime. There’s a depth to my feelings that I’m only beginning to understand. And if I’m being truly honest, I’d like to explore where this path might lead.

I understand if you need time, if my sudden candor is a lot to process. But I wanted to put these thoughts down, to let you know where my heart is at. And if you’re open to it, if you’ve felt even a fraction of what I’ve been feeling, then maybe we can navigate this new terrain together.

Kaz.

Second note

I’d like to explore where this path might lead too.

Love, y/n!

13th letter

Y/N,

I can't thank you enough for stepping in when I couldn't. I hope the contractor in Lij wasn’t hard to handle.

Now, I have a proposal of a different kind. How about we put our skills to use in a more relaxed setting? I'd like to take you out to dinner. No heists, no secret dealings, just you and me, navigating the menu instead of the back alleys.

I've made reservations for us at a place that's a bit more reputable than the Barrel's taverns. Consider it a step toward normalcy, a chance to enjoy an evening without looking over our shoulders.

Looking forward to your return,

Kaz

14th letter

Dear Y/N,

Your letter reached me, and I've got to say, the way you put it into words – how much you miss me – it hits home. The distance is a constant reminder of the warmth I've grown accustomed to, and I find myself missing you more than I thought possible.

This job is driving me insane, and my thoughts often wander back to Ketterdam, back to you. It's like a pull, a magnetic force that tugs me back to the life we've been building together.

I bought something with me – a box of those chocolates you can't seem to get enough of. The catch? I'm hoping they survive the journey and don't turn into a gooey mess.

I want you to know that with every sunrise and sunset that passes, I'm getting more restless to return to the city that's been our canvas, our backdrop. Until then, my thoughts are with you, and I'm eagerly counting down the days until I can wrap my arms around you again.

With all my longing,

Kaz

3rd note

I apologize, it seems the chocolates didn’t fare too well. I hope they’re still somewhat salvageable and that they manage to satisfy your sweet tooth.

- Kaz

15th letter

Dear Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you on the mend, wrapped in warmth and taking good care of yourself. It pains me to know you're unwell while I'm away, unable to offer even the smallest comfort.

My love, get well soon. I miss your laughter, your presence – they're a part of my life I can't bear to be without for long. The distance feels heavier when I know you're not well.

Today, during the heist, I saw a small brown cat with delicate white spots. The sight of it was like a reminder of simpler times, of moments when things were less complex. It stirred memories of my old cat "Spots," whose antics used to provide a reprieve from the realities of the Barrel.

As I look around, I find myself yearning for the day when I'll return to Ketterdam. Until then, my thoughts are with you, my love. Rest well, recover soon, and know that I will be there soon.

With all my affection,

Kaz

16th letter

Dearest Y/N,

There are times in life when words are inadequate, when even the most eloquent phrases fall short of capturing the depth of one's emotions. Today is one such day, and I find myself grappling with a sentiment that defies my usual precision.

I love you, Y/N. There, I've said it, though the words seem almost insufficient to convey the weight of my feelings. You've woven your presence into the very fabric of my being, and I find that I'm navigating uncharted territory, stumbling upon emotions that have long remained dormant.

In a world marked by uncertainties, you've become my constant, the one I turn to when the winds of the Barrel grow fierce. I cherish our bond, our shared history, and the future we're forging together.

As the days pass, my conviction only grows stronger. You've touched a part of me I thought was unreachable, and I find myself grateful for the warmth you've brought into my life.

Love,

Kaz

4th note

I love you too, more than words can express.

- Love, y/n!

17th letter

My Love,

I've stumbled upon something while on my trip to Lij, a revelation that caught me by surprise. My old house is up for sale. I confess, it's a notion that's been hovering in the back of my mind, a possibility I've been toying with.

And then, as if fate had a hand to play, it occurred to me – what if we made it our own? Y/N, would you consider it? The thought of creating new memories in a space that's intertwined with my past is something that holds a certain allure. A place where we could carve out our own sanctuary, away from the schemes and chaos that surround us.

If this notion speaks to you, let me know. It's a step I'd only take with you, a shared decision that would mark a new chapter in our journey together.

Love,

Kaz

18th letter

This is to certify that Y/N L/N and Kaz Brekker is (are) now registered as the absolute proprietor(s) of the land comprised in the above-mentioned title, subject to the entries in the register relating to the land and to such of the overriding interests set out in section 30 of the Registered Land Act as may for the time being subsist and affect the land.

Kaz Brekker __________

19th letter

My love Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you in good spirits, even though I’m far away in Shu Han. I wanted to share something with you – I stumbled upon the perfect dining table. It’s a piece that seems to embody the essence of what we’ve built together, a symbol of the life we’re crafting, even from a distance.

As I stand here, thousands of miles away, my thoughts are never far from Ketterdam, from you. Every corner of the city is a reminder of our shared journey, of the future we’re molding. And with every passing day, I find myself longing to return, to be by your side again.

The plans we’ve made, the dreams we’ve spun – they’re a driving force, propelling me forward through the challenges that Shu Han presents. I promise you, Y/N, I’ll be back soon enough.

Until then, know that you’re in my thoughts, my heart, every moment of the day.

With all my affection,

Kaz

20th letter

Love,

I’ve come across some interesting information that might be of use to you. It seems that there’s a rumor circulating about a certain merchant in the Fifth Harbor. This merchant, it’s said, has been trying to make deals with both the Merchants Council and the Whitecrows, something that has my interest piqued.

I’ve also managed to uncover some details about a potential source of counterfeit currency that might be making its way into the hands of certain unsavory individuals. The source, surprisingly, seems to be tied to a printing press hidden away in the Barrel. It’s a curious development, one that could have far-reaching consequences.

And finally, I’ve received word that a shipment of goods has gone missing from a storage warehouse near the docks. This might not seem significant at first glance, but it’s the timing that intrigues me. A missing shipment, coupled with the merchant’s deals and the counterfeit currency – it’s all connected, I’m certain of it.

Stay vigilant, stay cautious. And know that even in the midst of our separate tasks, you’re in my thoughts.

I miss you, and I love you.

Love,

Kaz

21st letter

Y/N,

Listen to me, and listen carefully. You need to come back to Ketterdam, now. What you walked into, it was a trap – calculated, deliberate. I can’t explain it all in this letter, but trust me when I say your safety is in jeopardy.

I don’t care what you’re in the middle of, what plan you’re executing – drop it, and make your way back. I can’t lose you, not now, not like this. The threat is real, and the longer you stay where you are, the more danger you’re in.

I’m begging you, Y/N, hurry back. We can sort through the details, I’ll explain everything, but right now, all that matters is your safety. Don’t delay, don’t second-guess. Just come back.

Kaz

22nd letter

Love,

I’m pleading with you, begging you to reach out, to let me know you’re safe. This silence, it’s a torment I can’t bear. Every thought is tinged with worry, and I find myself grappling with scenarios that are far too grim.

I don’t care about the details, the reasons – they pale in comparison to my overwhelming need to know you’re okay. We’ve faced down darkness together, navigated treacherous waters, and I can’t accept the idea of you being lost in the midst of it all.

Please, Y/N, come back to Ketterdam. If you’re reading this, if you’re anywhere, find a way to let me know you’re alive. I’ll make sense of the rest later. Just, my love, come back to me.

Kaz

23rd letter

Y/N,

I can’t wait any longer. The silence is a weight on my chest, a suffocating reminder of the unknown. I’ve agonized, I’ve begged, and still, there’s no word from you. It’s time I take matters into my own hands.

Please, hold on. I’m coming. I hope you’re okay, I hope you’re just out of reach, waiting for me to catch up. It’s a risk I have to take.

I love you.

Stay strong, my love. I’m on my way.

24th letter

My Dearest Y/N,

It's been a week since you left us, a week of darkness and aching emptiness that nothing can fill. I know you won't get this letter, that these words will remain suspended in the void, but I find myself needing to put them down, needing to release the feelings that have taken hold of me.

The pain is suffocating, a weight that's settled into my bones. I still can't grasp the reality, can't accept that you're gone, that your light has been extinguished. It's a void that stretches beyond comprehension, a void I'm stumbling through.

The memories are a double-edged sword. They're a balm, a reminder of the moments we shared, of your laughter, your warmth. But they're also a blade, a reminder of what's been taken from us, of the future that was stolen away.

I want you to know, even though you'll never read these words – I love you. I always have, and I always will. You were more than a partner, more than a confidant. You were my anchor, my solace, my reason to keep pushing forward.

It's impossible to fathom life without you, Y/N. Your absence leaves a void that can never be filled. I can only hope that wherever you are, you're at peace, free from the pain that's gripped my heart.

Until we meet again, my love,

Kaz

25th letter

My dearest Y/N,

Six months have passed, and the ache of your absence has only deepened. The city, our city, is a different place without you. The crows, the ones you brought together, are slowly finding their separate paths, their separate destinies. It's as if the world itself is reshaping in your absence.

I found the little box where you kept all those letters. Your letters, my words – I'm surprised, in a way, that you kept them all. It's a piece of you that I'll treasure forever.

It's in these moments of solitude that I find myself yearning for your presence the most. Your laughter, your insights – they're still very much alive in my memories, and they continue to guide me through the labyrinthine twists of this world.

I miss you, Y/N. More than words can say. The void you left behind is as vast as the Barrel itself, and there's a hollowness that's impossible to fill. I can only hope that, wherever you are, you've found the peace that eluded you in life.

Until the next time we meet, my love,

Kaz

26th letter

My Dearest Y/N,

Time has continued its relentless march, and two years have slipped through my grasp since you left us. The city, once our canvas, has taken on a different hue, a different weight. The crows have scattered, their paths diverging, and the life we built together feels like a distant memory.

I wanted to share something with you – I've made a decision about the house, the one that once held the echoes of our shared history. It's a decision born out of the reality that without you, it's ceased to be a home. The walls, the rooms – they're empty without your presence, and it's a stark reminder of what's been lost.

Putting it up for sale again, it's not just about letting go of a physical space. It's about acknowledging that our time together, our shared moments, live on in memories, not in bricks and mortar. I carry you with me, always, but it's time to release the hold the house had on me.

Life continues to move forward, though it's a path I tread with a shadow that can never be dispelled. I hope, wherever you are, you've found the peace that eluded you in life. And I hope, wherever I am, you're watching over me, your presence a guiding light through the darkness.

With a heart full of love,

Kaz

27th letter

My dearest,

It's been almost three years, and some days it feels like it was just yesterday when I last saw you. I miss you, fuck, I miss you so much. It's like this gaping hole, this emptiness that can't be filled. No matter how many schemes I plan, no matter how many crows I put to work, it's like there's this void that's always there.

I was gonna do it, you know? I was gonna ask you. I got this ring, this small little thing that I bought just a month before you fucking died. It's funny, you know, I never thought I'd be the one to feel this way, to want something that much, to want to stake a claim in this shithole of a world.

But I guess that's what you did to me. You turned this cold, calculating schemer into someone who wanted more, who wanted you. I'm sorry I didn't ask you sooner, that I waited, that I let time slip through my fingers like sand. I'm sorry I couldn't be the one you deserved.

You were my light, Y/N. You shined a light into my darkest corners, and now that you're gone, it's like the shadows have returned with a vengeance. I need you, I need you so fucking much it's like a knife in my gut every damn day.

I don't know where you are, what's out there after this life, but I hope you're somewhere better. I hope you're at peace, and I hope you know that I'm here, waiting in this shithole, missing you every fucking day.

I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much it hurts. And I wish... I wish I could've showed it more when you were still here.

With all my shattered pieces,

Kaz

28th letter

Deer Y/N,

This will be the last letter I write to you, and as I put pen to paper, I’m filled with a mixture of emotions that words could never truly capture. The passage of time has been unkind, separating us by years that have felt both fleeting and eternal.

It’s strange, the way grief works. It’s a steady ache that never truly fades, an ache I’ve grown accustomed to carrying. There’s an emptiness in my heart that’s become a part of me, a void that can never be filled by anyone or anything else.

I’ve learned to navigate this world without you, though it’s been a journey fraught with challenges and moments of unbearable pain. There’s a longing, a yearning, that can never be quenched. You were my constant, the force that kept me grounded, and now that you’re gone, there’s a piece of me that will forever remain incomplete.

As time marches on, I find myself grappling with a heartbreaking reality – the sound of your voice is fading from my memory. The way you felt, the touch of your hand in mine, it’s becoming harder to recall. It’s as though the vibrant details of your presence are slipping through my fingers, leaving behind a hazy impression.

And oh, Y/N, the thought that your laughter will never again reach my ears, it’s a pain that reverberates through my very being. Your face, once etched in my mind with unparalleled clarity, is beginning to blur around the edges. The little details that I once treasured, the nuances that made you uniquely you, they’re slipping away, like grains of sand carried by the wind.

I love you, Y/N. Those words have become a mantra, a whispered refrain that echoes in the corners of my mind. I carry your memory with me, every step of the way, and I hold onto the hope that, wherever you are, you’ve found the peace that eluded you in life.

As I place this letter alongside the others, a part of me hopes that somehow, somewhere, you’ll receive these words, that you’ll know that you were loved, that you’re still loved, even in your absence.

I miss you, “we all misses you very much.”

Love, Kaz!

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

can you make one with matt murdock where they're good friends but one night they're drinking and having fun and then the reader kiss him but when they making out he ends up saying someone else name and the reader leaves, later on they talk and reader apologizes for misreading their relationship and continue to be friends but theres tension in it until bradley finally admits that he likes her and he try to make up for all the time lost

~Friends Don't Treat Me Like You Do~

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: none really, embarrassment?? Alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries (nothing major)

Genre: mostly fluff very minor angst

Summary: You've had a crush on your friend for a very long time and when you finally make your move it goes terribly wrong; And that's why friends should sleep in other beds // and friends shouldn't kiss me like you do ... // my friends won't love me like you - Friends by Ed Sheeran

A/N: I know it's a typo of some sort but it's sending me to the moon that the name Bradley is jus thrown into this ask cuz I can't even figure out what it's replacing lmaoooo anyway thank you for requesting! I hope you like it anon! :3 (also I didn't edit this plz be nice)

***

Your friendship with Matt Murdock is in some ways rather unconventional. You've been friends for many years, but these days most of your interactions consist of him stumbling over to your apartment at odd hours covered in bruises you don't ask about- not because you don't want to know but because you're pretty certain you've guessed it and you're not sure what acknowledging it would mean. So you don't ask, instead, you give him food, and tend to his wounds, and talk to him about whatever comes to mind until he inevitably falls asleep on your couch for a few hours and sneaks out early enough to go back to his place for his day job as a defense attorney with his two friends. Both of whom you'd consider friends- although not nearly as close as you are with Matt.

Tonight Matt's invited you over to his place. Apparently, he's been feeling a bit guilty that most of the time you've spent together in recent days has been just him coming over in the middle of the night. As if you'd ever actually be annoyed with taking care of your friend. Your friend you feel for more than he can ever know. Still, he insisted you come over for dinner so you did, he ordered your favorite from a takeout place near his place and now you're eating and drinking wine you brought along with you. Well, you're drinking wine, Matt's been helping himself to the beers filling his fridge.

"Whenever you come over I do all that talking Matty so today you can do the talking this time. Tell me what you've been getting up to lately." You tell him once you've covered asking each other how your day was.

"I don't do anything interesting y/n- I go to work, spend all day reading or writing lengthy opening statements or discussing things with Foggy and our clients until ungodly hours according to Karen. Sometimes they drag me out to Josie's but- there's really nothing I 'get up to' and you know that."

"Why do you do that?" You frown.

"What?"

"Make yourself seem so dull when you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"I've known you for a long time Matt and I can't think of single period of our lives where you had nothing interesting going on and yet you always talk about yourself as if you're the color beige personified. It's like you're worried that if people think you're too interesting they'll," you trail for a moment "find out something."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing in particular. You're just way more interesting than you want people to think. For some reason."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You're not exactly an open book either."

"You got something to ask me about Matty?"

"No." He shakes his head. You stare at him for a long moment.

"We should play a game!" You announce.

"I don't really- have games?" Matt says.

"There are tons of games that don't require having anything Matt we just have to pick one."

"Like what?"

"We can play 20 questions- the right way, last letter first letter, I'm not a fan of Ghost but we can do that too, or word replacement- to name a few."

"I'm- not familiar with those besides 20 questions?"

"Well, last letter first letter you pick a category and we name items except the last letter of one item has to be the first letter of the next one so like if we're naming office supplies and I say stapler you'd say something like ruler. And Ghost is a spelling game, kinda like hot potato meets Horse the basketball game- so like you take turns spelling a word and you don't wanna be the one who finishes the word- if you do then you get a letter from the word ghost- first person to finish ghost loses. And then word replacement is just a silly game where you pick a movie or show title and change one of the words to the silliest thing you can think of." You explain quickly.

"Let's do the title one. Requires the least amount of thinking and I don't have to compete with you." He says.

"Then I'll start. Fast and Constipated." You giggle.

"Fast and Constipated!?" Matt's laugh is incredulous.

"Yeah, fast and furious but not so fun."

"Okay um- John Tucker Must... Juggle."

"That's way less fun than him dying." You laugh.

"True."

"What a Chupacabra wants."

"Goats- obviously."

"Shut up." You giggle.

"Now you- resent me 2."

"Oh that's- why would you say that?" You chuckle.

"I dunno I'm too drunk to think of movies." He mutters.

"All I've got are rom-coms in my head and those titles are not nearly as fun to fuck with. Two weeks- paleontologist?" 

"Paleontologist!? What movie was that even supposed to be?"

"Two weeks notice. Duh."

"I don't think I know that one." He frowns.

"It's about a woman who ends up working as the PA for some rich businessman when she tries to protest something he's trying to build- I forget the details but he turns out to be a giant useless manchild and when he disrupts her personal life for something frivolous she tries to quit but somehow they fall in love or whatever. It's been a while since I've watched it honestly." You shrug.

"Rom-coms are such a curious collection of movies."

"True but that one is pretty average compared to some others I've seen."

"Do you watch a lot of them?"

"I like to laugh at them mostly." You say. "You know what's a weird one? The Notebook."

"Is that not like- a classic?"

"I mean yeah but like the guy gets the girl to go on a date with him by dangling off of a moving ferris wheel."

"And that works?"

"Somehow! I mean I guess she didn't wanna feel responsible for him dropping himself off the wheel in front of an audience but I dunno it seems like he was just looking for reasons to die in that movie." You explain. "Although I never finished that movie maybe he does die. Except then it wouldn't be a rom-com I guess. It would be more tragedy, like in the Shakespearean sense."

"You are always somewhere else." Matt laughs.

"Not always! Oh! I brought that CD you wanted to borrow. We should play it." You sit up suddenly and grab your backpack.

"Are you sure all you've had is that bottle of wine?" Matt asks sitting up slowly from where he's laying on the floor.

"Where's your player?" You ignore his question.

"Should be in the bookcase." He waves absentmindedly.

"Do you want another beer while I'm up?" You ask walking over to the radio to pop the CD.

"Nah. I'm good thanks." He says. Music fills the apartment, and you can't help but sing along to the upbeat tune from Matt's CD player. You dance, well mostly spin, around the apartment giggling as you go.

"Are you dancing?" Matt turns towards you with a smile on his face although you're not looking at him.

"Of course I am- I love this song. Do you wanna dance with me?" You ask walking towards him, still dancing but less now so you can get where you're going.

"No no- I'll leave the dancing to you." Matt says before you make it all the way over to where he's sitting on the floor.

"Suit yourself." You shrug but when you attempt to change directions you trip on your backpack still on the floor and go tumbling towards the ground. Matt moves quicker than you'd expect for a blind guy off several beers but his arms shoot out and yank you towards him before your head hits the hardwood.

"Careful y/n." He says softly as he settles you into his lap.

"Do I need to be if you're here?" You joke smiling at him as you toss your arms over his shoulders.

"Y/n-" Matt's tone is warning in a way only he could get away with using on you.

"Relax Matty, I know to look after myself." You say quietly. Matt frowns slightly as if he's going to protest, but you don't let him get the words out. Alcohol coursing through your system, you seize the opportunity of his closeness and kiss him before you can talk yourself out of it. Matt lets out a noise of surprise, he heard your heart rate spike sure but he couldn't have guessed this was why. His lips move against yours for a second before something catches his attention and he's gasping out a name. Except, it's not your name.

"Karen." He breathes and it reaches your ears like a bucket of ice water dumped on your head. You jerk back suddenly.

"Oh my god-" You say scrambling out of his lap. "I- I am so sorry. I'm gonna go." You grab your bag and b-line it for the exit before Matt can even get to his feet.

"H-hang on a second y/n I-"

"I'll- I'll see you around Matt." You force yourself to say before leaving his apartment. You feel sharper than the amount of wine you've had should allow as you walk the few blocks to your place. Only once you're back in the safety of your own home do you let yourself wallow over how absolutely embarrassing that was. You might have just ruined one of the most important relationships in your life only for him to call out for another girl. You stumble into the shower in hopes of washing away some of the embarrassment you feel, or at the very least distracting yourself enough that you can shelf it and get some sleep. You spend hours tossing and replaying the moment excruciatingly but eventually, exhausting wins out and you do fall asleep. The next couple of days you pretty much ignore Matt's calls and texts. You really bury yourself in work to avoid dwelling on that awful night but you know you can't dodge him forever. Evidently, two days is as much as Matt's willing to give you to do so because on day 3 of avoidance he comes knocking at your door late at night as he sometimes does.

"Look- I know you've been avoiding me and all but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say Matt no need. I'm sorry I overstepped, I- I totally misread things the other night but hey- alcohol will do that sometimes. I'm sorry. We're good though. I'm good. I just needed a minute to lick my wounds of embarrassment. Everything's fine. Come on let's see the damage tonight hm?" You lead him into your apartment ignoring the confused look on his face. You let yourself settle back into your routine with him, patching him up, giving him food, getting him up to speed on the last couple of days of your life, telling stories, and just talking until he falls asleep on your couch. You're determined to shake this stupid crush of yours off and go back to the way things have always been between you. And if you're gonna shake this crush step one is putting yourself out there. Which you do, and for the next few weeks you find yourself on dates almost every night. Tonight's date is going surprisingly well all things considered. He'd planned to take you somewhere that ended up being closed after a freak accident the other day that he didn't know about. It was around the corner from Josie's so you brought him here instead and the conversation has been well worth it- even in a place like this. The one downside is that it's Friday and Foggy and Karen usually drag Matt here for drinks on Friday. You had hoped they'd skip out on that tonight but you of course could only be so lucky. When the bell over the door rings and you turn to see Karen leading Matt into the bar with Foggy behind them you almost want to groan. Dating has been nice but seeing Karen and Matt so close is like picking a scab. You turn back to your date with a smile, intent on ignoring the trio, except of course it couldn't be that simple.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n! Hey!" Karen beams at you.

"Karen! Hi! Foggy, Matt, good to see you all." You smile.

"You didn't tell us you'd be here tonight." She says.

"Well I didn't plan on it otherwise of course I'd have let you know." You tell her. "James this is Karen and that's Foggy and Matt. They're friends of mine. They all work together we've- kind of crashed their spot tonight." You tell your date.

"Oh! Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Nice to meet y'all." James shakes each of their hands. "Did you guys- wanna join us? Since it's pretty crowded in here you might not find another table."

"That's so nice of you James!" Karen says. Very nice indeed.

"I'll track down some chairs." Foggy says. You shift your seat closer to James to make room at the table since apparently they'll be joining you. You try not to pay too much attention to Matt's silence as everyone settles around the table.

"So y/n, you told James how we know you but you didn't mention how you know James. Are you guys work colleagues or something?"

"We have a mutual friend that set us up." James offers.

"Oh my gosh! We're crashing a date?! Why didn't you say so?" Karen shakes her head.

"No no no don't even worry about it, we've been here a couple of hours already. I invited you to sit with us so the night could go on." He says.

"Asking me, also would have worked." You smile.

"You guys are just the cutest." Karen sighs.

"I'm guessing this is a first date since- y/n's never mentioned you before." Matt says.

"It is. Not that I have to tell you about every guy I see." You say.

"You tell me everything." He scoffs.

"That's not true and even if it were that doesn't change the fact that I don't have to."

"So you keep things from me?"

"Am I missing something?" James chuckles.

"Matt and y/n have been friends since they were teenagers. They fight like they're siblings sometimes." Foggy explains.

"Sorry about that James. Matt's just-"

"Like a brother- I get it. I have siblings so I definitely know what it's like." He nods.

"Exactly." You smile.

"Like a brother." Matt quirks an eyebrow at you.

"As good a way as any to describe us." You nod. Matt hums and raises his glass to his lips without another word. The five of you sit and talk over drinks for another hour before you're ready to leave and James is happy to walk you out.

"I had a lot of fun tonight." He tells you.

"Even with the date crashers?" You ask with a goofy grimace.

"Heck yeah! Your friends are great." He laughs. "Next time I'll have my friends crash us. How about that?"

"Next time?"

"If you're willing. I'd really like to see you again."

"I- I'd like that." You nod.

"Cool. I'll- start coming up with second date ideas."

"Hopefully this time the place you pick doesn't impromptu have an incident." You laugh.

"I will quadruple check." He tells you. When you reach your block, but not your building, you stop and turn to him.

"Sounds good. I'll see you around James." You smile. He leans forward and kisses your cheek softly.

"Goodnight y/n." He says and walks away. You make it up to your apartment, kick off your shoes, and take a long shower. You enjoyed talking to James and you actually are interested in seeing him again for sure. Soon you're showered and pajamaed and pretty much ready for bed but before you can flop into it there's a knock at your door. Who could be knocking on your door right now? A quick check shows you it's Matt standing in your hallway.

"Matthew?" You open the door with a frown.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Well- right now I'm wondering what you're doing in my apartment."

"Like a brother to you?! Seriously? Last time I checked most people don't make out with their brothers."

"Depends on where you are I suppose." You shrug. "But regardless Matt that was a mistake we both know that." You shake your head.

"A mistake? Is that how you feel about it?"

"How I- I'm sorry did you forget calling out Karen's name while I was kissing you?! Cuz I've been trying to so if you've got tips to share on how that'd be great."

"Goddammit y/n." He sighs dropping his head.

"Matt you really should go. I know you worry or whatever but- James is, nice and it's late I'd like to go to bed."

"Screw James." Matt scoffs.

"Um- it was only our first date- you're skipping a few steps."

"That is not what I- it's like you do this on purpose."

"What are you doing here Matt?" You sigh. 

"I don't like you dating him. I don't like you dating anyone for that matter. How could you kiss me like that and just... move on like nothing?"

"I dunno it's pretty easy when you call me the wrong name." You say.

"That was not what you think."

"I'm sure."

"It wasn't y/n. I'm serious. I could-" Matt stops and lets out a breath. "I'm Daredevil." He says.

"I know." You nod.

"What? You know?"

"You come in here at the witching hour every few days covered in bruises Matt how many explanations could there possibly be for that?" You roll your eyes.

"You never asked."

"I figured you'd tell me when you were ready." You shrug. "Why tell me now?"

"Since I can't see- my other senses make up for the loss. They're like- very developed. I heard Karen scream somewhere in Hell's Kitchen, she sounded like she was in trouble that's- that's why I called out her name. I thought maybe one of Daredevil's many enemies managed to connect her to me. It wouldn't be the first time, I'm always listening for her and Foggy these days and I just-"

"Well was she in danger?" You ask.

"Nightmare." He mutters. "But by the time I pieced that together you were gone."

"Of course I was. Having a man say someone else's name when you kiss him is not something that encourages-" Matt cuts off your snarky remark by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. You react quickly, kissing him back, your hands wrapping around his wrists. By the time you pull away from him, you're breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you. I have been for as long as I can remember. I'm sorry I wasn't clear about it." He says.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Well in my defense I've spent the last few weeks trying to get over you-" Matt kisses you again, hard, possessive, fiery.

"Don't." He says.

"Obviously." You grab the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. You spent years thinking you'd never get to kiss him, now that you know the truth you fully intend to take advantage and Matt has years of pining he wants to make up for.

***

[sparklepirate]

Alright, final thoughts on Inheritance.

;-;

Eragon continues to be the guy of all time. I love him. He really displayed a maturity in this book that I think supersedes anything we've seen of him in all the previous books, and just like... His strength really is that he is compassionate and thoughtful towards everyone. Even Murtagh, now, too. He had the realization of how close he was to sharing his fate, sought to understand him, and that was ultimately what led him to realizing his true name had changed, tearing down Galbatorix's wards, etc etc. I don't know that I could properly articulate everything about him here, but Eragon definitely became the hero he needed to be by the end of the series, 100%. He is the only person who could've possibly thought of the final piece of magic to defeat Galbatorix. Even the dreams of starlings are equal to the worries of a king. Ahhh, it's so good. ❤️ I'm so proud of him.

On the other hand, Barst was some bullshit. Bro. Like, on the one hand, it was a very good climactic battle for Roran to participate in, and his triumph was the perfect culmination of his character- cunning in battle, cunning in strategy, the intelligence and charisma to sway everyone around him into cooperating and working together, sheer determination so intensely strong that he was able to crush and Eldunarí with his bare hands. His role was perfect! But Barst as a villain was kinda... Well, first of all, he came completely the fuck out of nowhere. He wasn't mentioned at all until they were already on their way to Uru'baen, and then he was only MENTIONED. They didn't hype him up enough before the actual battle in my opinion. And ONE human and one Eldunarí being enough to beat the QUEEN OF THE ELVES in hand to hand combat...? I mean, I guess that could work but... Ehhh... I dunno. It kind of felt like an excuse for Islanzadí to die, and Roran to triumph more than anything. It was cool, but it was probably the weakest part of the plot in my opinion.

That said though I think it's pretty safe to say this was my favorite book of the series. I'm having trouble recalling all the iconic shit (I took a pretty long break from reading about halfway through the book) but there was soooo much cool stuff in here. The Nasuada being kidnapped and being helped by Murtagh arc is GOLD, Vroengard was amazing, and all the battles were SO well written??? I need to study these books more closely just to learn how to write compelling fight scenes. Honestly, it's gripping stuff. I was on the edge of my seat, despite knowing how everything turns out.

Nasuada is amazing, Arya is amazing, Saphira is amazing, Roran is amazing, MURTAGH is amazing... I think I already liked basically every character in this series going in, but I somehow like them even more now that I've read it again. Everyone is so good, and interesting, and I want to be everyone's friend. I think the only character I liked less this go around was Orrin (sorry to my Orrin stan friend out there). That said, though, I don't dislike him, I think I just went from positive to neutral about him.

Orrin honestly just didn't get nearly as much screen time as I remembered? We only see him a handful of times throughout the book and each time the only thing he's doing is getting drunk and making an ass of himself, though... Idk, he also has a point? He has his own unique point of view, and his own unique experiences that lead him to his own ideas of how to conduct things, and it is definitely kind of true that like no one ever really listens to him or takes him seriously, despite being the King of Surda for w while at that point. I don't think there was a more graceful solution to the division of power/territory after Galbatorix was killed than what was decided upon, because like... Realistically, Orrin was never gonna be high king. He had good reason to assert for the throne, sure, but actually ascending to the throne? That is SUCH a far reach for power, unless the aim was to assimilate Surda in and have all of the humans under one crown. Nah, Nasuada giving up territory and ascending to the throne was the better choice, even if I do empathize with Orrin's point of view. It seems like Nasuada did as well, because even though she was persistent, she seemed to be gentle and sympathetic with him. He even had his line about like... "Why do you even want to do this?" "None of you would understand." Idk. Very interesting, but not tremendously notable compared to others, and he definitely was a bit of an asshole at times.

Murtagh my beloved my BELOVED I'm honestly just gonna make a whole separate essay post about him because his shit is Complicated™️ but one little note it was such a small detail at the end but I love that he said to Eragon "Hey check in on Arya about killing Shruikan. It couldn't have been easy for an elf to kill a dragon." And Eragon hadn't even THOUGHT of that and Arya probably would've been the last thing on his mind but he still was just so thoughtful. He is thoughtful like his brother and he cares so deeply and AHHH!!! And actually I want to see him and Arya be buds. I think they would have a cool dynamic. And also I love that he never once hesitated to acknowledge Eragon as his brother and just wanted to be with him and finally Eragon also acknowledged him as a brother too that last scene with them was just so good 🥹

Also I love how Thorn's like only spoken line in the whole series (until November) is to boop Eragon on the forehead and say "Hi. Thank you for not killing my rider. :)" and Murtagh is just like "Yeah thanks for that. 😒"

Love how quick Saphira and Fírnen hit it off lol. They really played tag and wrestled for like five minutes and then were like "Alright we're gonna go fuck like now see y'all later ✌️" And Eragon's like "Is this??? Okay???" And Saphira's like "Pfft dragon's don't mate for life 🤷‍♀️" Their little romance was so cute.

CAN WE FUCKING TALK ABOUT QUEEN AND RIDER ARYA??? That shit is by FAR the wildest endgame decision Chris made because like. That. That's so fucking. Oh my god??? Like, one, poor Arya!! She just wanted to be a rider and have adventures! She probably would've either spent her time happy herrying eggs across Alegaësia, or she would've gone with Eragon to Mount Arngor, but you can NOT convince me that she would be particularly happy as queen. She's grieving the loss of her mother that she barely had a relationship with, and denied the other eleven leaders for a full week before they convinced her to do it!!! Girlie!!! You deserve to be happy!!! And, two, the obvious point of holy shit that is such an enormous power imbalance in favor of the elves. Like, there is a REASON the riders were separate in the first place!! And, you know, Galbatorix JUST died and now there is another rider/monarch and it's the ELVES who have historically been both the most powerful race, and the race with the best relationship with the dragons. And Arya is the ONLY RIDER LEFT IN ALEGAËSIA!!! Because Eragon is gone (and stubbornly convinced that He Shall Never Again Return Oh Woe Is Him) and Murtagh is... Also gone to an extent. He at the very least holds no political power. Basically everyone hates him, and those that don't can't do more than, like, pardon him, for whatever that's worth. I just can't see this not rubbing people the wrong way, and not coming to an eventual head. Nasuada and Arya are both great, but I just get the feeling there is going to eventually be some sort of conflict between them, no matter how much neither of them want it. I do think Arya is perhaps the least corruptible person, other than maybe Eragon but... I don't knowwww maaaan it's complicated!!

Also I regret to inform everyone that rereading the last little bit did make me ship Eragon and Arya a teensy tinsy itty little bit. Just a liiiiittle bit. Like idk the last fairth and the telling each other their true names and calling each other their true names and Eragon's grief at leaving and his vow to love her forever and her insinuation of maybe one day just got to me alright???

There were a lot of cool magic things in this book! Like the pocket space that the Eldunarí were kept in? Cuaroc's body? More shit that I'm forgetting? God I would just love, like, a magical encyclopedia or something idk. Lots of cool shit. And artifacts!! I want to learn about more magical artifacts.

Also at my Galbatorix stan mutual? I'm a certified Murtagh Girlie™️ and therefore obligated to hold a grudge but like. I do get it. He is a... Very competent villain.

Alright I think that's it for now but. Wow. Man oh man. There is a reason I love this series. I'll probably think of some more things to talk about later, and I'm gonna be participating in the Big Bang, and I'll probably post about The Fork, The Witch, and The Worm as I reread that but yeah!!! Can't wait for November!!

[nuhackearney]

Fic: At A Loss

For @romanthereigns and anyone else feeling a little blue over LA's loss tonight. I said I wouldn't go here, but here we are...(aka, LA Knight x Reader)

You get people drinks, you pick up towels, you watch over equipment...yeah, you're pretty much a go-fer, but you adore your job! You get to travel, meet interesting people and you work for one of the most entertaining businesses in the world - the WWE!

Sure, the superstars don't know your name and you're not famous or anything, but you're an important cog in a big machine and you know your worth.

...you also know you have a helpless, stupid, unbelievably bad crush on LA Knight.

...yeah.

You're into him.

Too bad that, just like everyone else in the biz, he'll never notice you. Hell, he doesn't even know you exist.

Or so you think.

You're on hand for Crown Jewel. The energy is high, the activity chaotic. You've never dashed around so much in your life! Water bottle for Sami Zayn here, a boom for a member of camera crew there, and so on and so on.

You manage to catch snippets of different matches, but as a whole it's hard to keep up. Right until the very end. The end where the Bloodline yet again interferes and yet again help Roman score the win.

...which means LA lost.

It's a sobering realization. You were really rooting for him - even aside from your ridiculous one sided crush - you were hoping for someone to finally dethrone the Tribal Chief.

But, yet again, disappointed.

Poor LA, you think, but you know better. He's a big strong guy, he'll bounce back, no skin off his nose. He's the Megastar, everyone says his name and everyone knows it's his game. He'll be fine.

Again, or so you think.

Until, very very late into the evening, as you go to clean up one of the messy break rooms and you come across him. It makes your breath bottle in your throat, the sight of him sitting on one of the cafeteria tables, his head in his hands.

He's fully dressed now - brown leather jacket, 'Yeah' shirt, jeans, and boots. A totally different look from what he wore to the ring tonight. He must hear you come in, because he lifts his head to turn and look at you.

You clear your throat and offer a weak wave, even as you manage a near toneless, "I'll, ah-? Come back later..."

The plan is to stealthily back out, but he sits up straight and gestures to you, "Naw, naw - come on over, y/n."

His voice is loud, but more somber than you've heard it before and he? He said your name? You carefully ease further into the room and walk towards him, your fingers sort of nervously playing with one another as you get closer, "Um? You know my name?"

"Sure. I've seen you at lots of shows. They call your name all the time for shit. Ice packs, sandwiches, hairspray - there anything they don't have you fetch?"

You shake your head because he's not wrong. Again, you know your role. Maybe that's what he needs? Your go-fer skills? And you're about to ask if you can get him something when he asks quietly, "Think you can get me a second shot?"

This makes you seize up, "What do you mean?"

He lets out a huff, "Guess you didn't see me lose out there."

You don't know what to say.

He does, "Oh yeah, a big ol' 'L'. Granted, Roman's boys stuck in their noses again - Solo making a stink at the front, Jimmy in the back, but the end results just the same."

You've never seen him so serious before, so-? Well, melancholy is the first word that comes to mind, and the thought twists your heart into knots. You want to reassure him. Say something cool or clever, but your tongue is numb as he runs one hand over his five o'clock grizzled chin, "I dunno. Maybe I've been fooling myself. Fooling everybody."

"That's not true!" You blurt it out so quickly you almost don't realize you're the one who said it. But then his blue eyes swing to you and it's like a laser slicing you in half, that intense focus of his.

You clear your throat and feel your cheeks heat even as you keep your eyes averted when you talk, "You're-? You're the real deal. I know it. I feel it."

You know he's still looking at you and you feel a little sick and your heart is beating double time but you press on, "Yes, you didn't take the gold this time, but everyone is still behind you. Everybody is still saying your name, chanting for you - you're a superstar, you're a champion!"

"Yeah?" And he asks his normally rowdy catchphrase in a wry, teasing way that only makes the heat in your cheeks worse and god, this is torture. Does he know you have a crush on him?!? Is he possibly teasing you to death?

Being on the business end of one of his BFT's would be kinder...

"Yeah." You cough into one hand so that you can try and subtly rub away some of the heat from your skin, "So, y'know - you'll win. Get the gold you deserve. It's only a matter of time."

"Matter of time, huh?"

You nod and finally risk looking at him. He looks deep in thought and it's almost as if you can read his mind, "I-? I know you have been waiting for a long time already. But... it's going to happen. I promise."

There's a beat of silence between you and then, out of nowhere, he throws back his head and laughs. It's a happy sound and attractive laugh lines appear under his eyes as he reaches out a hand to you and ruffles your hair.

Such a simple and silly action shouldn't be so stimulating, yet here you are, practically melting under it as he rubs warmly and gently at your scalp, "You know what, y/n? You're right. It IS going to happen. YEAH."

The last is said loudly and with his classic jovial tone as he withdraws his hand and he stands up to get down to your level, albeit he still towers over you, "Not only 'cause you promised me, but because I promised myself! I just needed the reminder!"

"Oh!" You offer weakly, breathlessly, "Uh, good! Glad I could help!"

Your next plan is to turn and scurry away because you're sure that's what he wants, because that's what everyone wants after you've helped, but he freezes you with a, "Now wait a minute, you ain't leaving, are ya?"

Your eyes go wide with confusion even as he offers you the kind of saucy grin you've only seen from afar, "'Cause I could still use your help."

"Y-you could?"

"Sure." He eyes you up and down, "I need somebody to go out and eat with me tonight. Need somebody to test my kavorka on. Make sure it's still working."

It is, trust me! Almost pops out of your mouth immediately, but this time you manage to hold the words back, instead giving him a demur, "Alright."

"There we go." He throws one arm around your shoulders and gives you a little squeeze, "Hey, stick with me, kid and I promise you, you'll get what you deserve!"

While you're positive that he thinks you deserve a better job or pay or something along those lines, you honestly hope that you get what you want more than what you deserve.

Hell, you're actually getting what you want right now.

A night out with LA Knight?

YEAH.

[exaltedfuzz]

Someone already pointed out that you always tend to draw Lana tired and I agree, it feels just right!

Because Lana takes care of Ema and the household since she was a She cooks healthy because of Ema, listens to Ema‘s school day, plays with her, helps her when she has a question because of her school work.

All of that while remaining the top of her class in law school. She has so much responsibility and Lana doesn‘t even seem like the person that complained at least once because of it. And also remember that a lot of colleagues, like Angel Starr, used to look up to her. She endures the responsibility and she‘s honestly such a great role model for me!

Not to put Mia Fey down, but consider this: in contrast to Mia, who had at least her aunt Fey to teach her all of this stuff, Lana probably had no one. In contrast to Mia, who actually left Maya live alone, Lana took care of Ema.

Lana Skye is underrated, so f* underrated.

Thanks for liking the way I draw Lana! I think, yeah... She'd be exhausted. Full-time everything. I don't know that I'd call her a role model, considering how RFTA goes, though... Admirable, sure! But, you know... The whole evidence forgery and desecration of a corpse deal might lose her a couple points in the role model department.

It is super nice to imagine what it was like for Ema growing up! I really wish we got to see them interacting outside of RFTA. Maybe in AA7, though I'm not sure I'd trust the AA5-6 team to pull it off. More hopefully, maybe in the anime! I can't believe RFTA just didn't get an adaptation. I guess it is a bit of a sidestep from the trilogy narrative. Hopefully when (if?) AJ gets adapted, they'll do RFTA as a primer to introduce Ema. Maybe we'd get treated to some filler fluff, to make how Lana is in RFTA really punch you in the gut.

I don't know that Lana was as profoundly alone the whole time as she could have been, either. It says in RFTA that Jake was very close to her and that Neil was like her own brother (and that Jake was nice to Ema), so I figure they would have been some help. And Lana has that coroner friend in Germany who Ema lived with between RFTA and AJ (really wish we got to meet her! All we know is that she's a top coroner, a woman, and in Europe, from Lana's end credits of RFTA dialogue), so it seems like she had a bit of a support circle, which is nice to think about.

It's interesting what you say about Mia. I have some thoughts on that, actually. I wouldn't say what she went through would have been much easier. I think that while Lana's approach is to grin and bear it, and take the path of least resistance, which involves just getting on with it and looking after Ema without searching for any help in that, Mia's is very confrontational of her circumstances. The reason she leaves Maya is to find Misty, to clear her name and to try to reclaim that family she's lost. I imagine Maya would have lived with Morgan too.

A thing I've been thinking, actually, is that Morgan would probably have been delighted to see Mia go off to become a hotshot lawyer, in some ways. Gets the number one heir to the Kurain channelling school out of her hair if she ends up acclimatising to city life and settling down. This would probably be why Morgan never tried to kill Maya until 2-2, since there was the chance Maya would go off and join her sister, just leaving Pearl to take up the mantle.

I guess after Mia dies, it'd be reasonable to assume Maya would get scared off from leaving the village, so Morgan would have to take things into her own hands. So I think Maya probably, though lonely, didn't get off too badly. Morgan wouldn't hurt her if Mia was alive, either, because we see that Mia does get crazy intense at times. There's that little comic (not sure where from) where she snaps the (kendo?) sword over Nick, for one, and there's also her (IIRC) punching Grossberg in T&T... Or, at least, that piece of official art where she's dragging Nick around by his scarf. If anything happened to Maya, Mia would probably strangle Morgan. Then, as well, Pearl says she met Mia. So Mia must have been visiting a bit.

It's a very different context that both Lana and Mia operate in... At the end of the day, the most important thing for both characters is their family, and what they see as the best thing to do for them. Don't pit two GOATs against each other...

Anyway, whoops. Most of this was about Mia. Super glad you like my Lana stuff! I think she's a wonderful character, and definitely underrated.

[justatalkingface]

Let's talk about the Bakugou Problem

Yes, everyone, it's finally time, what is probably my most requested rant: The Bakugou Problem. Or rather, the Bakugou problems, because there's two:

The first is the fact that he's an unrepentant asshole who is only now, at the end of the manga, truly starting to realize basic shit like 'apologizing'. The second is that, for all intents and purposes, the Bakugou the characters seem to interact with is a different person than what we're being shown.

There's been plenty of deep dives on his issues, so I doubt I'll propose anything new, but this should fun anyways, right? Let's start here:

I think, at the core, Bakugou's problem is he just never grew up.

Way, way back early on, we see some flashbacks to Earlygou, and in summary? Earlygou is an ass. Fun fact: for all that it's commonly held that Bakugou grew worse over time after getting his Quirk? He called Izuku Deku before that. He was just a bit ahead of the class, looked at Izuku's name, and saw 'Deku'. Boom, he starts saying it, and it's only further entrenched in his mind as he outperforms his peers physically, while Izuku lags behind.

Then he gets his Quirk. Let's quote what he's told: 'Ooh, another impressive Quirk! You could be a hero with a Quirk like that, Katsuki!'

I know we all think he got coddled for his Quirk, and later on he was, but that? That was just a teacher giving him the verbal equivalent of a gold star. Meanwhile, Bakugou?

'Makes sense. I'm awesome. I'm better than everyone else!', he thinks, while having this look on this face like he's being enlightened to a Fundamental Truth. He took some generic praise and ran off with it.

So yeah, Earlygou was an ass. Here's the thing: a lot of kids are assholes. It can be hard to remember sometimes, but kids, really young kids who don't get how the world works at all, do and think a lot of impulsive, assholish shit, not because they think the world revolves around them, but because they can't comprehend a world that isn't all about them.

Here's another thing: kids grow out of that. They realize, eventually, that other people matter, that their actions have consequences, and all that other stuff that makes people into functioning adults.

I don't blame Earlygou for being an assholish child. I blame Bakugou for never growing beyond that. And it's interesting to think about that, because his parents seem legit. His dad is quiet, sure, but he's solid and down to earth, and while Bakugou clearly takes after his mother, she also seems to have gotten the 'morals' message he didn't, and has concerns that he didn't do the same. They're not poor, and are working in fashion, and implied to be doing well enough that, if they're not rich, they're at the very least well off.

So... school, I guess? Here's one of the times where the setting suffers for its lack of lower level development, because I would love to see what non-Aldera schools were like. Everyone else in 1A seems like they wouldn't have a major problem with Izuku being Quirkless, or at least be mild enough in their prejudices to not spend their free time torturing him. Is Aldera different? Is it an age thing? Are they just the good eggs and would have had assholish classmates who would act like Aldera did? Would other teachers be OK with how Izuku was treated (my limited understanding of the depressing Japanese view on bullying says, 'yes', but fuck if I know, and honestly, two hundred years in the future, shouldn't they be better than modern Japan)? More than that, the public view on Quirklessness is, for understandable reasons (cough cough Bakugou), highly underdeveloped, so we don't know how much Izuku was treated was the normal, but I think part of the reason Bakugou got so bad is that he had Izuku near him, as this convenient target. By pushing down on the 'acceptable' target, all his peers approved him, cheered him on, which both fed his ego and his popularity, and combined with his high-status Quirk, this cycle continued swelling his head until we reached canon Bakugou, king of all he surveys. The kids follow him, the teachers suck up to him, his potential, his future, all are limitless!!!!

...Sigh. Before I keep going, let me touch on one other thing: Izuku trying to save Bakugou after he fell when they were children.

On the first take, it seems utterly unreasonable, how badly he responded to that, right? And the second, and third, it still seems the same.

Someone, somewhere, said this take in a comment in a fic I read and I've never been able to forget it: think about it from the view of a heroic saturated society.

Think about it from the lenses of MHA, where All Might is a few steps short of a god in the eyes of the public. Everyone knows him, everyone loves him, especially the kids, and especially Bakugou and Izuku.

Look at that scene again, how Izuku reaches down for him. Overlay him with All Might.

That is what Bakugou saw: Izuku making himself unto All Might. While Izuku just wanted to save him, of course, somewhere deep in his unconcious Bakugou took that symbolism and ran with it, and reached a completely (ir)rational conclusion: Izuku was looking down on him. It went, I imagine, a little something like this:

All Might is the strongest. All Might looks like that when saves other people, who are weaker than him. Izuku is channeling All Might, therefore he is saying that he is stronger than me.

Bakugou, in his child mind, saw Izuku, not as helping him, but T-posing at him. To him, that was Izuku trying to assert dominance.

And he never got over that. Never grew beyond that impression. Do you want to know the worst part about it, though, when you look at it that way?

Think about Bakugou again, and his motivations, with your Bakugou Logic goggles on: All Might is strong. Bakugou wants to be strong like All Might. All Might asserts his power over others by saving them. Therefore?

Bakugou wants to save people like All Might.

Can you imagine if Bakugou was built of that dynamic? Like, with Shirou in Fate, if that scene was etched in his mind forever, and he was obsessed with remaking it over and over, but on his terms, with him as the savior? Him as the one looking down on the weak?

Still canon-style Bakugou, still an asshole, still lusting for power... but when asked what he wanted to do with it, or why, he would answer: so I can save everyone.

And even if it was for the crudest, most self serving of reasons, even if it was only so he could feel good about himself and lord it over everyone else that he was the one who saved them; it would have been so much better than canon. There's so much fascinating complexity to explore in a character like that, as well as a clear path to redeem him: under that logic, Bakugou would, over time, learn to save people, not for his own satisfaction, but just because it's the right thing to do. Hell, even the way people treat him would make more sense, because even if he was an asshole, if his motivation, which he cheerfully shouts about at any given moment, was to save people, then suddenly his acceptance feels more realistic, doesn't it? Him being compared to Izuku as a rival makes more sense when both of them are in it to save everyone, that core of heroism, but each represent a different part of how modern heroism is expressed, with Bakugou as the corrupt, media saturated part of it, while Izuku channels the original, pure spirit of heroics.

Can you imagine that with me? What could have been in another life? It could have been beautiful.

But, sadly, that's nothing more than a dream, and we should return back to reality (though I might want to expand on that at some point, it really does sound interesting to me).

Change and Improvement. These are words that some hold in the air whenever Bakugou is judged harshly, and they wave them like talismans to try and banish others objections.

Let me tell you a truth: change and improvement are hollow words without context. They are a statement that something has happened, not a measure of how much it has happening. In many ways, this is similar to a unit of measurement, like inches, and a number of inches. If you're talking about something, and you say, 'it can be measured in inches'.... that is generally unhelpful. Saying that it is, say, eight inches long is far more useful information.

Still, these aren't exactly moral statements, and change in particular is distinctly amoral. If something has 'improved a little bit' it, you know that it's better, and generally how much. But is it good now? Was it good then?

Let me put it another way: say that, once a day, every day, I appear to you out of the shadows and force you to eat a cup of shit. Exactly a cup, every day, at 2:30 PM, without fail; nothing you do to protect yourself from me makes any difference, nowhere you go is safe. You can't run. You can't hide. I am inevitable. The shit is inevitable. You will eat that shit, no matter what you think about it.

Then, one day, I come with only a half cup, and from then on you are only forced to eat a half cup of shit a day instead of a full one.

Isn't that both a change and an improvement? It's literally half as bad; doesn't that sound like a lot better? Yet, while that may be true, is the situation actually better in a meaningful way, or it as firmly negative as it was before? Should you be mewling gratefully to me that I'm being less horrible to you, or can you still hold a grudge against me for everything I've done to you and continue to do?

What if I apologized, one day, after forcing yet another half cup down your throat? What if I told you that I shouldn't have done it, but the way you looked, the way you acted, that vapid, cow-like look of joy on your face... it was just so shitty that I had to, that you made me do it? Then I say this changes nothing, and that we're still on for tomorrow for your daily dose at the normal time.

Tell me something: do you feel better? Has my generous apology moved your heart? Are we friends now?

This is Izuku's situation in a nutshell. Bakugou's treatment has changed, has improved even. It's reached a point where there are actual differences in Izuku's daily life. That doesn't mean it's still not shit treatment, and it doesn't matter if it's served in a cup or a tablespoon, shit is still shit. And the thing is Bakugou treated him like shit, and he still treats him like shit.

Context matters. So let's talk about the context. Let's talk about what Bakugou did.

Well, first off, there's the Deku thing, but I feel a lot people don't get how bad that is, so let's spell it out in detail. Once upon a time, as I've said, Bakugou was a little better at reading than everyone else. He looked at Izuku's name and saw 'Deku' in this, and thought it was hilarious, and so he started talking about it.

Bakugou looked at his name, and saw Useless in it. He didn't just call Izuku that, he said, this is in your name, it always has been there, to the point that, all these years later, he physically struggles to use Izuku's actual name.

For Izuku's entire childhood, the one person truly on his side, who truly loved him, was his mother.... who gave him that name.

In other words, every time Bakugou called him that name, with that history behind it? Bakugou was telling him that, when Izuku was born, Inko looked at the child she held in her arms, turned to the nurse, and said, "I'll call him... Useless."

He called him this, every day, every time they talked, for over a decade. Saying that the real meaning of the name his mother gave him was useless.

But it's not just that, even. He led the school, his neighbors, effectively everyone Izuku knew in anywhere near his age group, to call him that. There were probably people in Aldera who didn't know Izuku by any other name. There were probably times Izuku thought of himself by that name, that his name was Useless. It's not that big a reach from responding to it as his name, after all, and by the time the story start's he was well trained in responding to it.

Then, there's the more 'basic' bullying; insults, taking his stuff, breaking his stuff, using his Quirk on him. Again, for years and years, until Izuku is beaten down into terrified compliance, where Bakugou blowing up his stuff, his desk, and him* in front of a teacher isn't something anyone even really notices anymore. And why does he do it? Because it's fun. Because he feels strong breaking things, hurting people, being the big man on campus. Because he wants attention, respect, glory.

Because he can. Because it's fun.

(*And isn't that weird, when you think about it? Bakugou has been hands free with his Quirk on Izuku since they were, what, four? Why doesn't Izuku have burns?

Bakugou uses explosions. His hands can burn hot enough (probably as part of the lighting process) to burn clothes, and that's when he's clearly holding back with it. There's no way he's been careful enough, kind enough to not hit skin with that his entire life. So why doesn't Izuku have burns from all that?

Answer? There is no good reason. You can mention how MHA humans are, well, inhumanly strong, but we see heat resistant Shoto being burned with boiling water; it's not like they're immune to it. More than that, though, Izuku is explicitly Quirkless. He is a mortal in a world of magic. He wouldn't have that same kind of resiliency.

So Izuku isn't burned because, A, Hori didn't want his main character to be scarred over, both for aesthetic reasons, and probably for ease of drawing, and B, because that would make Bakugou look worse. Because even then, back when Bakugou had consequences, that would be too much consequences for him, that he permanently scarred Izuku, since the Heroes Rising was the original ending, and Bakugou was always supposed to be redeemed. Hori probably figured, if he thought about it, that that was too far for the readers to forgive him for, and finally, C, he just didn't think about the consequences of Bakugou's actions.

But let's be honest: Izuku would be burned. The fact he isn't is just the prettying up of the situation.)

This is where Bakugou starts from: abusing Izuku to the point where he doesn't dare protest out of years of deeply ingrained terror, doing his best to systematically destroy Izuku's life, while being careful to avoid going too far and damage his chances for UA, which judging by his comment on smoking, may be the only real internal check he has on his behavior.

Because that's the thing; he's cruel, but calculatingly so. He's not a wild animal. It motivates him, but he can think about his actions, think about the possible consequences of them, how they'll react... and as long as they won't harm him, he's all for it.

Then we go to UA, and when he realizes that 'Deku' has a Quirk? Much less such a strong one? He attacks. Viciously, instinctively he goes into attack. He's stopped, but no consequences are given (more on that later), so he doesn't stop. Why would he? All he's learned is this teacher won't let him attack Izuku without a motive.

And then he gets one. Bakugou walks into the Battle Trial planning what he'll do to Izuku. His first words in there are don't dodge... which is especially bad considering what he'll say in a little bit.

His plan? To beat the living shit out of Izuku, to vent all his frustration on him, but stopping just short of it being bad enough for the Trial to be stopped. And as Izuku defies him (by dint of not letting himself be beaten up), he gets angrier and angrier at him for the gall of it, for the audacity to not lay down and let Bakugou beat him up until he feels better, until it reaches the point where Bakugou brings out those gauntlets of him.

'Dammit, Deku, don't dodge me!' 'He won't die if he dodges!'

Yeah. He says both of these things in the space of the same fight. When Bakugou fires that damn gauntlet of his, he's finally reached the point where, for the first time we've seen, he's no longer thinking of the consequences even a little. He wants to kill Izuku, if only to prove that his Quirk, that he, is better (note this too; we'll talk more later about this) than Izuku and his Quirk.

Well, for obvious reasons, that doesn't work out for him, since Izuku's Quirk is the strongest in existence, and small fraction of it, badly used, is still enough to clap Bakugou's attack, enhanced by support equipment (who the hell approved that, by the way? It literally destroys buildings. It seemingly exists for no other reason than to cause massive collateral damage). Then he's forced into an existential crisis when Deku 'wins'. His arm is broken, he's beat up, but by the rules of the game he won anyways and because of that, Bakugou's world collapses.

This, more than anything, I think is Bakugou's true catalyst for change: not being saved by 'Deku', but losing to him. Granted, being saved is enough to force him to avoid him, but it probably helped that Izuku only bought him moments of air. He may have saved him, but All Might did the work, All Might the strongest, the greatest, his idol.

This though? This was Izuku surpassing him, and all on his own.

And I want to pause to consider something here: something that was stressed since the beginning of the story, and still is, besides the terrible mixed messaging at times, is that being heroic is more important to being a hero than sheer ability. Izuku was heroic with his complete lack of ability at the start, after all, while All For One is one of the strongest beings in the setting, and is the farthest thing from heroic. And when you look at Bakugou, as we're introduced to him? There's not a speck of that in him. There's no kindness, no mercy, no sympathy; Bakugou has no positive aspects to him. He has talent, talent for days, but talent isn't a person, a personality. He is a creature of pure ability, and nothing more, and that makes him a singularly unheroic creature.

But the story continues, and Bakugou is forced to confront his own weakness compared to his classmates... except, you know, he doesn't. Even as he does everything wrong, as picks fight with classmates, teachers, villains he should be avoiding... he faces no real consequences for it.

Because, as I've said? Bakugou used lethal force on Izuku. Knowingly. As a teacher tells him not to. That... that sounds like something that even a normal school would be concerned about, much less this elite school that is focused around being a hero, and whose student body is largely comprised of very lethal people, who they intent to unleash upon the world with minimal restrictions on their behavior.

I mean, forget the school; why is All Might fine with this? Aizawa? Nezu? Any of these teachers? How about all of their fellow students, all of who are heroic, and watched this happen live, and All Might's response, no less?

This is the second problem of Bakugou: what they see, talk to, and interact with, doesn't seem to match with the reality that we see, and these two problems are so intertwined that is hard to talk about them separately.

Because on Day One of school, Bakugou attempts to murder his fellow student, and no one cares. The worst he gets is a waggled finger. The fact that he isn't expelled is mind boggling beyond belief, when you pause for a second and consider that fact.

Aizawa talks like he just rough housed too hard or something, and the worse thing All Might mentions is failing the exercise.

This is something that many people have talked about, and at times have named many different ways. For this, I've decided to call it, 'Bakugou's Tsundere Field', because it makes other people act like Bakugou is tsundere, acting tough but with a kind heart, instead of just... acting like a shit person. You know, like he does.

Like I said, it's hard to realistically seperate that from Bakugou's general behavior, so I'm just going to keep going and point it out as I go along.

Next, let's talk about... the Sports Festival. The Sports Festival is where, if you need the reminder, Bakugou starts things off by insulting everyone else and making them hate his class. Twice.

First, by insulting the, admittedly vulture like crowd gawking over 1A's near death experience (I still don't like that), and the second as the valedictorian, where his 'speech' is his two sentence statement that he's going to be first... and yet, for some reason, Izuku watches this and marvels over how he's changed. Because normally, he'd do this but he'd be gloating. Izuku. Izuku. This isn't some mind boggling big thing to be in awe of.

Actually, let's chat about that a bit, because that's honestly such a big problem it's almost a third concern on it's own right: Izuku is our major narrator, right? So we get a lot of our views on Bakugou from his perspective, and... well, he's very much an unreliable narrator, whenever it comes to Bakugou. Every time he talks, there's this sense of awe in it that's been there ever since he was a child; it taints his narrative every time he talks about Bakugou, makes it always more positive than it should be.

Because, wow, Bakugou, that's different from before, an improvement, right? Well guess what? That shit is still shit, even if there's less of it. Izuku is just so biased, so traumatized, such... an abuse victim, that he he takes what Bakugou gives him and doesn't think there's anything wrong with it, because he, Deku, has no self respect, and Bakugou is the biggest and the baddest, the most beloved of their childhood, and it's something he never seems to get past. Even when he stands up to Bakugou, fights him, he still can't get past staring at him in awe, and barely ever complains about how he's being treated.

And because Izuku is our main viewpoint? This view on Bakugou taints our view on him, and it's easy to look at him with Izuku's admiring eyes.

But I digress. In the cavalry battle, Bakugou basiclly breaks the rules by flying off the horse, but gets away with it because of a technicality, which, you know, is great impulse to nurture: it's fine as long as it's technically legal! Sounds really heroic, right? Like something you want your law enforcement to live by?

Meanwhile, during this same fight, both Aizawa and All Might praises him for his ambition, and I just. Do you know what Bakugou says right before they think about that?

'I'm going to be Number One and leave piles of bodies in my wake!', he screams, while literally throwing a tantrum on national television and hitting the top of Kirishima's head like it's a desk.

...Wow. You know what? Maybe you two are mixing tenacity with bloodlust. That's one of the least heroic things I've ever heard in my life, and yet everyone just falls over themselves to praise him for it just because he's not content to settle for second place.

It's times like that I have to wonder: are they... are they seeing something different than what we do? Are all of Bakugou's most violent phrases and actions edited out for them? Did Hori add them for his fans? Or is it just The Tsundere Field(TM)?

Not even mentioning third stage where: he's praised for taking a woman 'seriously' for no apparent reason, and dragging it out when he would normally, just like he always does, just leap in mindlessly to attack, and this one time he really thinks it through it backfires when Ochaco turns it back around on him, only for him to just... over power it, with no ill effects. This comes with the double plus stupid on his part of him doing that because he's... what, afraid of her touching him?

Seriously? This entire post exists for me to call Bakugou out, but even I can't call him a coward. Every time he fights a villain, all of which want to kill him, and one who has Ochaco's power but lethal, he still charges in. Moreover, all it does it make you weightless; Bakugou's power explicitly gives him a way around that; if she tosses him, he can just fly back to the stage.

So... why is this a thing? This is a thing so, when the heroes, who at this point are symbolizing the audience's discontent with Bakugou, start complaining, Aizawa can step in, verbally slap them, us, and then explain how great Bakugou is, which get magnified by how casually he shoots down her plan at the end.

And here's the super special bonus problem with all of this: a hero's job isn't to protect themselves. A hero's job is to protect everyone else. Even if they, personally, are hurt, a hero is expected to risk their health, and lives, so that the general public is safe. You want to know what the problem is when protecting yourself and allowing the villain time to do things in the process? It means they get to do things. Like, say, set up a giant meteor shower that could cause mass casualties? You know, like what Ochaco actually did as Bakugou held back?

This is that plan that, need I remind you, Eraserhead was defending.

Then there's the fight with Shoto where, under the actual logic of the setting, according to Hori's very notes on how their Quirks work, Shoto should have froze him and thusly stopped him in his tracks, no fire needed, since it would stop Bakugou from sweating. But, instead, Bakugou powers through, somehow, and clinches a win anyways. And then, and this is after he eavesdrops on Shoto's conversation, BTW, which means he knows exactly why Shoto doesn't use his fire, he throws a fit that Shoto didn't use his fire on him anyways (which, considering he sweats nitroglycerin, means he would have exploded).

Now let's look at the Intern Arc, and I'll be honest: no matter how much a non-character Best Jeanist, I'll always be a fan of him for one simple reason:

When everyone else looked at Bakugou, and says, 'This kid is awesome', this is the one person in the entire setting who saw a problem. And as a bonus, he acts to do something about it.

In the same vein, I'll never forgive Hori for making him seem like such a pretentious twit, much less how hard he ends up cheering for Bakugou's every word later in the series. I'm relooking at these manga chapters, and his big attempt seems to be... jelling up Bakugou's hair, and... something like focusing the body and mind via the power of... tight jeans.

Wow. I mean, wow. The one time we get someone honestly, actually trying to change Bakugou for the better, to call him for what he is, and his big plan to do this is apparently giving him a new look.

Really? Like, beyond how much of a failure of an opportunity this is, beyond how it makes Best Jeanist look useless, it can give the reader that the impression that the reason why Bakugou is so wild and untamed is that those who want to reign him in are elitists who are wildly disconnected to reality, that he is right to be this way, because people following the rules are just holding him back.

And we come to... sigh. The Final Exam test. The fact that anyone who has spent five minutes with Izuku and Bakugou thinks that this clustefuck needs to happen is more proof of the terrifying powers of the TF. I mean, I just... when one person is constantly yelling, constantly aggressive, constantly swearing, constantly throwing fits, and this same person is constantly picking fights with another student, who, at worst, defends himself, and and more often just seems to take it..... what do you think they need?

Is it to be thrown together into a teamwork based, sink or swim test with seemingly enormous penalties for failure? Or is it to make one of them get therapy? And also detention?

Well, according to All Might, Aizawa, Nezu, and who knows who else....

*shrugs helplessly*

If only we could use Bakugou's powers for good, rather than making Izuku suffer.

But we can't. So the school locks an abuser and his victim together in a pseudo-deathmatch where teamwork is required to survive, as a form of therapy to treat the lack of cooperation that comes entirely from one party. Wonderful.

And, as anyone could predict, this promptly goes terribly. Bakugou attacks his teammate for the crime of... *checks notes* trying to work together with him against All Might, the strongest being in the setting. This is such a terrible crime because *checks notes again* ...Bakugou can totally take him.

Bakugou Katsuki, everybody. A 'genius' with the brain of a yipping chihuahua trying to fight a mastiff.

Recovery Girl watches this happen live and just goes, 'They're just absolutely the worst team, those two."

And oh, and I'm going to be honest, when you look at Recovery Girl she's kind of a piece of shit. She barely gets any scenes and any time they involve Izuku (a lot of that small amount) they are pure ass. But this? This just takes the cake.

Wow. They're such bad teammates, sure. Such heroic insight. Why, that's like saying putting Muscular on the same team with Kouta would be a bad team! That would have some truly terrible teamwork as well, right? It's something that is technically correct, but is just.... so heinously missing the core of the problem that you honestly have to wonder what in the actual fuck she's thinking. All Might and Aizawa, at least, have the excuse that they don't see that, at least as far as we know, but she deadass watches it happen, what the fuck.

And, as it has often been pointed out, Bakugou passes, after attacking his teammate and being carried out afterwards while Sero, who heroically sacrifices himself for the win and never once attacks his teammate, loses for exactly the same thing.

Simply marvelous.

Now let's move Training Camp Arc... where, when Bakugou is informed in the middle of an attack by villains that he is the target (and oh, we'll get to that in a moment). What is his first response to this? What does he do?

Le-fucking-roy right at them. Here's something that bothers me about how the story talks about Bakugou: he's so intelligent, he's analytical, all this stuff... but every time he gets into a fight? Or near a fight? His response is always, always to jump in. Needless to say, a heedless charge at the problem backfires, and he's captured. Surprise!

And back to Bakugou as target: the League of Villains watch him on TV and the first thing they thought about him is, I like the cut of his jib.

The worst people look at Bakugou and say he's clearly one of them.

This... this is something that's never really discussed. There's a press conference, Aizawa basiclly says he's too heroic to ever join them (ironically, since Bakugou's argument isn't about heroism or villainy, but that they're losers), and this just... never comes up again. There's no doubt in anyone's mind about anything after Eraserhead gives him that support

No one is concerned that, hey, maybe he did actully join them. Or the man with ten-thousand Quirks did something to him, brainwashed him, and honestly? That's not even a reach. That is actually what AFO was planning to do to him. This is a setting, need I remind you, where actual brainwashing Quirks exist, much less whatever the fuck happens to the Nomu and no one is concerned, after they all agree that there is already a mole, that Bakugou could become another mole, or maybe even was that original mole in the first place. No one goes, 'Hmm, well, the scum of Japan think he's one of them, maybe this is something we should be concerned about?'

I mean, fuck, no one just sits Bakugou down and tells him to pull his shit together, your image is ass and the media is probably going to be watching you until you die, ready to stain you with the accusation of villainy, and they can make your life hell if you slip up, and so far you don't seem even seem to care. Also, your heroic career, that you're oh so concerned about, is never going to get off the ground if everyone thinks your a villain, and a villain will never be Number One.

There's just... nothing. Bakugou is made out of warning signs, one the entire fucking setting ignores at times, but this is just... fuck.

Alright. Bakugou vs Izuku Two; Wank Bakugou Harder!

Actually, no. Before that... let's talk about one of the major lead ups to that: Bakugou finding out about OFA. Why? In part to force him into the plot, sure, but a large part of it is Izuku feeling... guilty. He feels guilty for lying to him, guilty for seeming to have a Quirk of his own; I'm not really going anywhere with this, I just want to talk about how fucked up that mentality is, that he felt he owed Bakugou that. He owes Bakugou nothing. Bakugou isn't his friend, isn't even his acquaintance, he's his abuser. Bakugou doesn't treat him in a way that deserves such sympathy, much less information on one of the greatest secrets in the setting. If Bakugou wants to assume that Izuku somehow hid that he had a Quirk for his entire life? Allowed himself to be constantly beat down, insulted, and mistreated, and for what? For this one gotcha moment of surprising Bakugou? Let him. If he's too stuck in his own idiocies to think of anything else, let him wallow in his own ignorance.

Anyways, BvI2: also known as that time Bakugou pulled his frequent victim aside to attack him and both of them got in trouble for it.

And this is billed as this big thing for Izuku, but he fights against Bakugou, metaphorically, all the time, and he's already had this big moment of physical defiance in BvI1. This fight isn't about Izuku, on any level. This fight exists solely for Bakugou. It starts because he starts it, he starts it because he feels upset and violence is apparently how he sorts through his emotions, and he wins it because he needs to.

But not just because he needs to win, oh no, there's more to that. Thematically, you see, this is important for Bakugou's growth. Or rather, the idea of his growth that never seems to persist between his growth moments. You see, thematically, Bakugou stands for victory via force, but him winning this fight doesn't make him right, doesn't give him All Might's approval, and to him, that's almost a paradox; that paradox is needed to move beyond who he is.

But that's the thing though. Bakugou needs it. Bakugou needs to win for Bakugou's growth. This growth is, both literally and thematically, at the expense of Izuku, because Izuku? If he won this, just... out matched Bakugou in a fight, no tricks, no technicalities, no crippling injuries, none of the things from their first fight? That would have been huge for him, for his confidence. It would have been Izuku, heroic Izuku, finally and truly eclipsing his old bully in every possible way, and that would have been great for him, for his confidence, for his self respect. Moreover, though, that still would have been good for Bakugou, because even when he loses, he never loses, and he could use an actual, humbling defeat to help screw his head on straight.

But Bakugou loses all the time, I hear people say? He lost in their first fight, true, but that's a technicality; anyone looking at them would know who won combat wise. He won the Sports Festival, even though he bitches about how it wasn't 'right'. He loses against All Might, sure, but All Might is the strongest man on the planet; that loss means nothing. Moreover, he wins against him through the goal of the exam at the end anyways. He loses to the villains, sure, but it was a bunch of them against him; it wasn't a fair fight, which is the whole reason him picking it was stupid in the first place. And now, here, he could have finally had a real loss to give him some perspective... but he doesn't.

Moreover, Hori just... hypes up Explosion as a Quirk more than it really deserves. Is it a good Quirk? Strong? Sure. But let's be honest here: he sweats nitroglycerin. Literally, his Quirk is his two parents mashed together into the best possible option, and it's basiclly lazy ass chemistry via genetics. There is, by the very definition of the substance that he explicitly makes, a cap to how much it can do with a certain volume; that's why new, more explosive explosives were made to replace it

One For All, all the heroic thematics aside, is literally just pure power. All Might changes the weather with a punch on accident; I'm convinced if he punched the ground and meant it, he could actually fuck up Japan as a island. The cap with OFA is yes. There is no way, under the logic of the setting, that Bakugou can ever contest that.

Like, look at Endeavour: when he wants more fire, he makes more fire. It's bigger. What the fuck is Bakugou going to do, rain his sweat on people? What happens when he dehydrates, because again, this is his sweat, which comes from his body? Cluster doesn't even make sense, really, that he somehow super concentrates it to make it more powerful, and AP Shot is literally him making a circle with his fingers before blowing up a bomb in it, yet somehow it makes, like, a laser?

The thing is that more loose Quirks, like Endeavour's, again, aren't as limited to science as the more 'realistic' Quirks like Bakugou's, so there's nothing really saying he can't just... make more flames. He could damage himself, sure, but since he already pulls that shit out of nothing, Endeavour increasing the volume of his magic ass firebending isn't hard to accept. Hori wrote himself into a hole here because if Bakugou just made explosions by magic? If he just... conceptually made explosions? A lot of this stuff would make sense (except AP Shot; fuck AP Shot), and it feels like that's how he treats it sometimes. But that's not what he did: it was his Dad's Acid Sweat with his Mom's Glycerin which means he sweats explosive sweat. And then, when it's convenient, he has shit like the Gauntlets, and basiclly all the rest of his support gear, that are explicitly filled with his sweat.

Bakugou's powers are basiclly whatever the fuck Hori wants at any given moment, and it's honestly frustrating when he tried to play so much of this setting's powers so seriously at first, and Bakugou's Quirk in particular is explained more than almost anyone else, and yet he tosses it the moment he thinks of something that sounds cool.

...But I've gotten off topic. The point is, OFA is OP and Izuku should have just won that on pure ability alone.

Anyways, after all this, the teachers finally come, once it's settled in Bakugou's favor, and they're both in trouble. For a fight that was 100% Bakugou's fault.

So, throughout all of this, Bakugou has changed, yes, but beyond the first couple of days, the changes have been grudging and glacial, and the reasons why are best exemplified in the License Exam where we find out that, for all intents and purposes, Bakugou is incapable of showing basic empathy. I mean, fuck, he fails to show that when, with any amount of logic, much less that of the genius Bakugou, would say that now is the time to fake it. An actual, factual sociopath would do better than him, purely because they would know to act for their own betterment.

(And the fact that his teachers look at this, explicit proof that he is seemingly incapable of actually trying to save a person, but do nothing with this information speaks volumes.... mostly about how bad Hori is at writing Bakugou and the implications of what he does constantly. Surely there's no way that, without the Author hyping him up, they'd just let that slide, right? ...Right?)

But, then, hope on the horizon! He has a make up exam, and it's apparently centered around pounding basic morals/how to deal with civilians into his thick skull! Surely, this is the time Bakugou will finally, finally, get the point, right?

And that's the thing: he does. There's this, probably to other people, touching moment where he sees himself in this asshole kid and talks about how you can't just look down on people. And it's like... finally. Finally! The switch has finally been flicked! He gets it! Change, improvement, development, fina-

Then the second he gets out of it he promptly goes back to calling everyone extras.

That dynamic in many ways is the perfect embodiment of Bakugou's development, and it's... It's like watching someone fighting off a disease. There's an infection, right and symptoms increase. Sometimes the symptoms appear out of nowhere, sometimes they increase over the span of several days. They peak, finally, then they fall back down, again either dramatically, or over the span of several days, and then you are back to normal.

Bakugou makes changes. He makes realizations. He gets 'humbled'. He has a single moment of heroism that the narrative hypes up, sometimes with a bit of build up before hand for a few chapters, and with people sometimes reacting to it for a few chapters afterwords.

And then it passes, like he's just finished fighting off a case of Morals.

You see, Bakugou is well liked. And, honestly, I get it. The asshole can be therapeutic to root for, at times. The problem is that he's too popular, and that this story is too about people being good. So Bakugou, to keep the fan base, to keep the sales, has to stay Bakugou, stay the unrepentant asshole constantly telling people to die.

But, at the same time, Bakugou is an anti-hero, basiclly, and this is a setting that just... can't handle the complexity of an anti-hero, in how people react to them, what they do and the morality of it, how it would affect society and so on, and so Bakugou can't stay as Bakugou, has to grow and be better and become a hero proper.

So... Hori goes, 'Why not both?' Thus, Bakugou gets his moments of 'development', and a slow, slow, slow trend to the better, and the fans get to see him do his thing, even though he's 'changed'. And it's easy, when you just sit back and accept the narrative, to believe that. But if you don't....

All of that? It makes his character empty because after a certain point, it's clear that Bakugou won't change, in so many fundamental levels, even if everyone around him acts like he does. Like attacking his teammates, like blindly charging the enemy , like constantly insulting everyone around him is just different because he's The New Bakugou now, like it's just fun and games, even when this was a dead serious problem early on. He didn't stop, he didn't change, or dial it back; everyone else just started acting differently when he does it. The same way in day one he attacks Izuku for having a Quirk, far later on he throws his metal... hair thing at him for daring to talk about his Quirk. And it, like, impales him, but haha! It's just funny now, it's so funny, that we can apparently see Izuku's brain! It's funny that, when Izuku is seriously thinking about his predecessors, Bakugou just instantly insults them for not being famous! Look at how patient Izuku is dealing with him as he acts like a bratty five year old child throwing a fit, look how fond All Might is as he insults his beloved teacher that he probably has deep seated trauma about regarding her untimely death!

In the War Arc, where Bakugou 'Rises'? Maybe ten minutes before his 'Rise', he was threatening to attack Izuku for daring to ask why he's following him. In a war zone.

The entire story, Bakugou has been described as a creature of instinct, a natural born warrior with a talent for battle. All of that is to contrast him with Izuku: where Izuku, instinctively, has the urge to save, Bakugou has the instinctive urge to fight. This is fundamental to him, a core characteristic, one of the (many) ways it's explained about how good he is at fighting.

And yet, suddenly, when Izuku is in danger, he moves without thinking (aka instinctively), but it's not attack Shigaraki, which, you know, he was shouting about doing not too long ago, it's to save Izuku.

And. And am I supposed to believe that?

I mean, fuck. In the FInal Arc, he has a Big Speech in response to SFO: about being 'way over fear and rejection since long ago', which SFO was talking in the context of how they create inequality in society, and how he wants to fix it... which, doesn't that mean Bakugou just doesn't care about them? Because being over them doesn't actually solve them, genius, it just means you, personally, are beyond them, and even now, he still treats everyone like they're unequal to him. Bakugou has always been the one to profit from inequality in society, between his Quirk, his talent, his well off family, so honestly all of that rings hollow.

He talks about how he has friends now, who are willing to move beyond them, and OK, that works a bit better, except when he still doesn't treat them like friends, in fact not too long ago he yelled at Momo for getting his stupid ass chuunibyou name wrong.

Or, maybe a minute later, when Bakugou gets a power up and/or realization about how SFO moves or something, and you know what he does? He instantly charges in blindly, alone, and is killed over it. Right after this speech about teamwork, while everyone was just... cheering his determination, and prissy Best Jeanist says, with a straight face and actual awe, 'Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight'.

And then when he sees Bakugou get smacked around, Eraserhead's first thought is to scream, desperately, 'Save him! Save him so he can try and become the Number One Hero!' in the middle of all this shit that is happening.

All of this is presented to us as this... thrilling thing, with music that is going to be swelling in the background when its animated, and everyone cheering him on, right before he's tragically struck down for being too stupid to live (no, seriously, SFO actually lampshades this. Before this big 'dramatic' moment, he says that getting up close to him is pure idiocy, and all that it will do is allow you to get get smashed by an All Might like power. Then, you know, Bakugou closes in, again, because he had bitchslapped Bakugou before, and then a second time during that boast, and it goes exactly as SFO said) and we're supposed to mourn him. Again, actually, even though this is a blatant set up for him powering up, since this is literally the same set up as the War Arc.

All of this work, all of this emotion, and all of it rings hollow because, well, it's Bakugou, and no amount of trying to hype up teamwork battle is going to make it work for me when the second the Big Moment is over he reverts to his normal asshole routine.

That Tsundere Field, guys. Too strong, too broken.

While I'm at it, let's talk about Bakugou being Quirkist, because, well, he is. It's a big part of his early character: the reason he rags on Izuku so hard, so successfully, the reason he's so big and important as a child, is about Quirks. When they get introduced the past users? His first comment is that they have weak Quirks.

Izuku saves him and he still doesn't think much about him; it's only later when he starts actually acknowledging Izuku.

When he has a Quirk.

And it's not just a Quirk, it's more than that: it's a strong Quirk, powerful. Enough for him to defeat Bakugou. All the respect Bakugou builds for Izuku? And while it stagnates for awhile, I do have to admit he does respect Izuku more than he did originally... and it's not because Izuku is kind, or heroic; he still hates that. No, he starts respecting Izuku because he is strong. His respect isn't about Izuku as a person, it's about Izuku's Quirk. All his respect, slowly built up throughout the series, comes from the corrupt foundation that Izuku is worth respecting only because he has a Quirk. Later, this gets worse because he learns about OFA and starts valuing Izuku as important, but it's only because his Quirk is important. It's All Might's Quirk. His second fight with Izuku is because of it's All Might's Quirk. He starts training him (that one time, and apparently never gain) because it's All Might's Quirk. When Izuku goes 'rogue'? And when he heroically goes to hunt him down? One of the first thing he does is talk about how he's so great because he has One For All, and then calls him an All Might wannabie*.

And you know what? I just talked about Class A hunting down Izuku recently, but let's talk about that more, because I hate it so much.

I really, honestly wonder if Hori is blind to the parallel he set up here, or if he invoked it on purpose, to try and show how Bakugou has 'improved'.

Look back at the first chapter, where we first see Bakugou. Think about that dynamic: Izuku, beaten down, on one side, while on the other, Bakugou. Strong, proud, with minions at his back, all of them ready to throw down at his command.

The thing is? The first time is shown as clearly villainous in nature, a cruel bully against someone who is weak but heroic. The second time, everything is the same, but it's shown differently. Bakugou is being shown as heroic for doing this, heroic for leading Izuku's friends to hunt him down, heroic for attacking him.

*And ah, Bakugou the Hypocrite. Let's finish this up by talking about Bakugou's name. When we first talk about hero names, Bakugou's naming sense is much like it is for his final name, and Midnight promptly shoots down every one of them because, well, they aren't heroic, and the story pokes fun at him a little because he clearly doesn't get it.

Then it's the War Arc. Bakugou has 'grown', there's all this hype for his big heroics moments, and he announces his new name... Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. And I'm just wondering... am I getting punked? This is the the same shit as before! No, actually it's worse than that, it's bigger, longer, and more ridiculous.

The universal response is that it's tacky. Nejire thinks it's disgusting. Mirio literally thinks it's a joke.

But the story itself treats it seriously, and over time? People start accepting it, taking it seriously as well, treating that stupid name with respect. What the fuck kind of hero name has the word murder in it? What kind of hero calls himself a god?

And finally, it's Dynamight. Which resembles All Might, the Greatest, Most Beloved Hero, the one Bakugou has always considered the best and viewed as his goal to surpass.

And yet he says that Izuku, who is calling himself Deku, is the one viewing himself as an All Might wannabie.