#just when i got the red lines for that one art trade :C

[shiawasekai]

i want to draw so badly but my wrist is still complaining to me hhhhhhhhhh

[cherubim-of-vvkastel]

💭 + well since you so politely asked me about Eret, I'll return the favor and ask about Foolish. What was he like before coming to the DSMP? How much does he remember? Does he regret what he's done? What was he like before he meet Eret? Before the Wither Cult? (also hello i'm quietly sneaking into your box :>)

// Oml you've been so friendly since the day I first posted. I'm gonna cry - literally, the main reason I'm shaking off my newbie jitters!!! Hello, hello, glad to be here <3 Also sorry for late reply, I've been at work!

Additional info for context: I headcanoned Foolish as going by any pronouns but referring to himself with zie/hir if ever talking in the third person - but that's a whole 'nother set of headcanons for another post, haha. If you see those neos in here, that's why!

Foolish is one of my muses that I seem to love bullying, in all honesty. How I picture his story going is incredibly tragic, and it would take me ages to get to the blood and bones of what he was like before DSMP. A long while ago, I wrote a cute little soulmates fanfic that touched on how Foolish acted, so I'll keep things similarly brief (unless, of course, you wanted to hear every detail I can muster up :P).

Foolish is immortal in every sense of the word. I've always seen Totems as ageless — able to grow and never stop until their lives were traded for others. It's touched upon in c!Foolish's lore where totem children are expected to die for their parents — he just happened to be one of the few who made it well past adulthood and is now perfectly capable of maintaining and protecting himself. Seeing as he can live for centuries, he's gone through several shifts in his behaviors. From quiet and curious about the ever-changing Overworld to restless and bold, he's had time to figure out how he feels and what he deems right and wrong. 

There was a long period during this self-discovery stage when he was known as the "Totem of Death." Quick to anger, baring rows of sharp shark-like teeth, demolishing cities as if they meant nothing, and carrying a torrential downpour wherever he walked like an ominous cloud. He had no regard for life nor the sanctity of nature. His sole purpose was to control what he deemed beneath him — little bugs that could be squashed if he so pleased (a sentiment that zie still holds into the SMP but far more concealed). Everything he loved was bound to dissolve in time, and he saw no purpose in trying if they would turn to dust in the end.

He did pause to consider other immortals, or those who had centuries to live — gods, deities, children born to rule, such as Eret herself. I like to think it was more of a curiosity that rose when Foolish befriended Eret all those centuries ago. He was swimming in red while she watched on with milky white eyes. Call it admiration and mutual companionship, but Foolish did become somewhat of a guard-dog to Eret all that time ago. If anyone spoke out of turn to her, lightning struck, and he was first to snarl that they treat her with respect. If anyone got too friendly, he was a looming threat behind her, bristling and poised to protect whom he deemed his only friend. 

Somewhere along the line, the Wither Cult grew, creating too much carnage for Foolish to feel safe with Eret leaving his sight. Sure, she could protect herself, but Foolish is nothing if not worrying over those he dares to hold dear. It's unclear what their last straw was, but zie and her eventually raised the cult to ashes; thus marking the beginning of Foolish's mellowing out. Traveling with someone with a taste for beauty led to Foolish beginning to find more time to stop and smell the roses. He began to take up hobbies of artwork, relishing in how art was timeless and he didn't need to worry about it crumbling when he could immortalize it through such a delicate process.

Somewhere along the line, the two separated, though Foolish would hardly sit around and mope. He met others, creating... well, his own version of a cult if you tilted your head and squinted to read. Villages he used to destroy began to offer up wealth in turn for protection or monuments built by a demigod. Building was so much easier than massacring the innocent. It held more beauty — it was soothing. With an eternity to hone his skills, Foolish was soon creating structures inconceivable to the average person with a smile and a much happier stance.

Of course, he kept this attitude when he came to the DSMP. It's a conscious choice, as I've always seen Foolish as the type to record his own history. It's all along the walls of his Summer Home, written in tattered tomes deep within his temple, expressed through the sculptures and paintings littering his halls. He remembers everyone who's meant something to him, their lives — if they've been revived, then where they are now, who they are now — zie even takes the time to tend to their portraits hidden in his horde of wealth as if careful hands didn't already protect them.

Sometimes he has brushes with his anger and resentment towards mortals, calling them ants under his shoes or warning them not to piss him off. Sometimes, he laughs off his knowing looks — playing it off as if he doesn't know something is wrong or as if you had duped him. He's smarter than he gets credit for; it's hard to tell when he's genuinely ignorant of something or if he's putting up a front not to pressure information from those who might never be ready to share.

That's why when he meets up again with people like Eret, Foolish insists they know each other. He brings up details that he vividly remembers despite the confusion... and then drops it—laughing and agreeing that he must be confused, too. Maybe they should get some rest. And then he never mentions it again. His memories are very much intact (rereading your own experiences repeatedly makes recall so much easier), and his feelings are still very much real... but he knows he doesn't have the luxury of connection. He will never last in another's mind for as long as they do his... and he's okay with that.

Does he regret what he's done? To an extent. He doesn't remember the faces of those he's hurt, nor does he try to recall those events with anything more than gritted teeth and a hard chuckle. He has grown and changed. He sees no beauty in morality, but rather in the immortality he can craft. It gives him everything he was missing back when he was wild and reckless. Besides... he can atone for what he's done by being a good person now. He can sacrifice for mortals, and he can offer a gentle thumb to rub against their cheeks in times of need. It's sort of like during Sam's Warden Arc, where everyone felt like they were turning their backs on Sam, blaming him for every wrong they could possibly get their hands on— Foolish was the only one to remind him that he wasn't alone. 

"Don't bear this burden alone, Sam."

"I'm here for you, friend."

Foolish has worn many faces: Totem of Death, Demigod of the Sky and the Sea, and Totem of Undying, yet none of them will ever be entirely accurate. He's grown too accustomed to being what is needed in the fleeting time he enjoys with companions and their lives. Foolish will always cherish the past, but he's come to adore the present just as much.

Did I ramble a lot more than I thought I would? Yes. But THEN AGAIN, it's been literal months since I've gotten to ramble senselessly about my goofy goober. It turns out that I have no sense of what the word "brief" means....

[anaiswriterr]

The Dragon Kings Queen

Pairing: Dragon King!Bakugou x Queen!Reader

Rating: M

Warning: This is part one, I’d like to point out be aware: 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐠𝗼𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐭𝐜. Please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it, and if you’re under the age of 18+ I will give a warning when it becomes NSFW but at the moment it’s SFW.

<masterlist>

Synopsis: ➪ When the word marriage crossed your mind, you believed you'd marry someone you loved. Not this brute of a King. So here you are standing at the end on an alter, pushing away the urge to run and fight. Possibly start a new life, instead of being dragged into a loveless marriage. But for the sake of your people.. They say he's not what rumors make him out to be, but how can you believe that when his eyes burn into yours; just as fiery as before. How could you, ever love someone as barbaric as him...

- chapter one: wedding of peace -

•

•

•

•

"May I introduce you, to my daughter, Princess Y/N of Airkin Kingdom."

"We are looking for a suitable suitor for her."

"You are doing your people a public service; think of all the possibilities that will come from this.. arrangement."

"You will soon be a Queen; start acting like it."

You wipe a tear away from your cheek as you soak in a bath of milk and honey; handmaids all around you scurrying scouring for jewels and expensive lace to dress you in. You clutch your knees together; pulling them into your chest as the bath water soaks into your skin. Quiet muttering of the handmaids pulling you out of your thoughts.

"M'lady would you allow me your hand; I must prep you for the ceremony." She gives off a gentle smile, her voice so small and soft; her hair is in two ponytail braids just separated by red satin ribbon. You nod, moving your shaky hand from the milky water; another handmaid coming to your side to prep the other hand. You hadn't realized somebody sat behind you combing your hair; brushing through your roots like silk.

You watch as they hang your dress up in awe, clapping their hands in cheer.

In another life, on another day you probably would've liked the dress. Maybe even fantasize about it, walking down the isle, eyes fixated on the love of your life as you smile. Ruling together as King and Queen; but most importantly as husband and wife. You frown at their smiles. Feeling bad that you couldn't share the same excitement towards them, you realize that the people of the Dragon Kingdom were much more proud people. From travelers and trades, you learned about the people from your kingdom by the royal bookkeeper; she had explained to you that the people of the Dragons were prideful and loud. Something you weren't quiet used too.

You were far more gentle and outspoken, quiet and kind. Your Kingdom was quite the opposite.

Tales of the dragons say that they are barbaric, and don't care what others have to say. And so did the tales of their people.

A part of you wonders why you were placed in this arrangement seeing that both kingdoms are extremely different from one another.

You sigh, it's for the best. This wedding will end the war between both kingdoms and more trade will come into the markets with many more jobs available for your people, it's important that you brush your feelings aside. You flinch as the handmaids drop your hands back to soak in the bath before being pulled up and quickly covered by a towel. Patting down your supple skin and moisturizing, applying expensive lotions on you and lathering it up your body.

You weren't used to being pulled in different directions. Soon enough a much younger handmaid, who seemed to be in training, came up behind you. Placing a silk robe over your exposed skin, you ask for them to leave the room for a while in order to gather yourself.

"Composure." You inhale.

They seemed annoyed but quickly wiped the fake expression off their faces and proceeded outside, following the orders of their future Queen.

You decided you would put on your undergarments yourself, keeping the last of your dignity. And later waving them in to help fit you in the dress, you feel the rough tug of the corset they had placed on your waist. Tightening it till you were nearly pulled to your feet; they apologized in advance as your hands grip the end of the counter. Grimacing at the nearly unbearable tightness, the handmaids at your kingdom were much more gentle and apologetic with you.

You missed them terribly.

They were finally finished with you.

Stepping back to admire their work, you smile weakly towards them.

The tiny white flowers that were gently placed into your hair, the vale.. all so perfect. So beautiful, the white and small blush on your cheeks radiating the innocence of a woman. You take a deep breath, your hands running down the bodice of your dress and smoothing it out. You wipe the last tear that dared threatened to escape. 

"Don't you dare start crying, don't you dare show weakness."

***

You watch as the waves crash against the rocks from the castles window, awaiting for your father. You smile, at least this kingdom was near the ocean and mountains. Such beautiful serene for a kingdom known for its brute and prideful attitude. You feel a tightened grip on your forearm, a man leaning down kissing your forehead. Your father Y/F/N, King of Airkin Kingdom here to give away his daughter.

"What a lovely Queen.." His voice comes out in a trembled whisper, you nod in agreement. Though you thought instead you'd be the Queen of your own Kingdom, your baby brother ended up taking over that role. You clutch onto your fathers bicep, staring off onto your gloved hand. You've never even had a single conversation with this man, you didn't know his name till last night, and you've never kissed anyone in your life besides your parents.

But those were most definitely not real kisses, those were cheek pecks and forehead pecks.

You feel your heartbeat start to pump faster as the wedding march played, hundreds of guests attended to see the ceremony. People from the kingdom and even other royalties attended the wedding, you exhale and start to walk beside your father. Feet moving on their own, you thought about running.

But the guards at each possible exist popped your thought of escape and pulled you into reality, if you were suicidal you'd most certainly throw yourself out the nearest window and allow yourself to plummet onto the pavement below, in order to runaway from this arrangement.

You look up from the bouquet of flowers in your hand, and notice the former Queen Mitsuki, bright eyed and smiling. Her Crown on a small velvet pillow, nodding in approval. The former King Masaru also seated beside her, holding onto her hand in pride and happiness. And suddenly yours eyes meet the man of all the rumors.

With long spiky hair, decorated with tooth necklaces, feathers, scarlet red tooth earrings, and tribal arm sleeves, a tribal tattoo imprinted onto his arm. With piercing ruby red eyes, not a smile in sight. The upper half of his body fully exposed, your eyes slightly widen. Noticing almost everyone on the Dragon Kingdom side wore very revealing clothing.

You surpass a small gasp, woman wore light fabric with exposed stomachs and legs. Meanwhile men were too show off tribal tattoos. You realize the reason why the kingdom was so prosperous. All dazzling in jewels, you didn't even notice your handmaids were dressed in similar wear, but with more decoration. The closer you got the more of him you saw, his lips pressed into a fine line. 

The both of you truly did not want to be there.

As soon as you reached to the end of the isle, your father gave you away to the man that you'd now forever be wed too. And rule beside, you pass the bouquet over down to the small flower girl beside you. Giving her a soft smile and placing the tiniest flower behind her ear, earning a tiny giggle from her and large toothy grin.

You turn around and reach down to his hands, traditionally the two of you were obligated to hold hands as the ceremony commenced. They were so rough against your tiny soft ones, his eyes a crimson red finally reaching your soft E/C ones. You start to chew at the inside of your cheeks, drowning out the words of the preacher finding the floor as the most intriguing thing other than his burning eyes. 

"Our father who art in heaven.."

He begins the prayer, holding out his hands, chanting prayers through the cathedral. You shut your eyes and bow your head down in prayer, following after the man in front of you. The wedding continued, and your eyes still refused to reach his. Though, you could feel his heavy gaze on you from to time. "Now we are granted the pleasure, of witnessing the matrimony of two young souls. Soon to rule this Kingdom, King Bakugou, do you take this woman, Y/N L/M as you lawfully wedded wife. Crowning her Queen of your kingdom?"

You almost forgot that you had no say in this.

"Yes."

The answer was simple, emotionless and short. You give a small nod and allow for the ceremony to continue, hand in hand with a man you had only met once. Dreading each second, the preacher raises his voice holding his hands up, declaring "the love" these two share in sake of their kingdom.

"I now pronounce you, King and Queen, husband and wife. You may now, kiss your bride."

You prepare yourself for a short kiss, something simple. But are hit with a searing kiss, long and burning passionately against your virgin lips. The side of the Dragon Kingdom roaring in excitement, it's former King and Queen nodding in approval. Meanwhile the Airkin side had only resorted to small cheers of happiness. His hand cups your jaw, a small growl erupts from his throat until he pulls away. You are taken aback but quickly replace the face of sudden surprise to a smile you practiced in the mirror hundreds of times. Waving off to the kingdom, and fixing the crown a handmaiden placed on your head.

You fight the tears that pooled on the outer corners of your eyes.

"Aw look! The Queen is crying of happiness!"

What a statement so far from the truth. Don't you know, I've practiced this smile since I was six?

***

"M'lady? You've had such a long day, we have a handmaidens awaiting for you with a hot bath. She will be in charge of clothing you for tonight.."

Your hands run through your hair smoothly, brushing out the flowers and placing them in a small basket. You nod, thanking her as she left.

Tonight..

Tonight you were expected to give yourself to the King in tradition of matrimony. With your assigned duty to birth a son or daughter for the next of kin. This thought had clearly blown over your mind as you suddenly realized tonight was the night. For years you thought you'd give yourself to the love of your life someone who'd cherish you forever. Sighing you are pointed towards the direction where countless of handmaidens are awaiting to prepare you for the night.

Silk robes and a black night gown that you thought was far to revealing for your liking sat neatly on a chair. A bath of milk and honey with rose pedals awaiting for you, and an assortment of creams and lotions and expensive soaps sat beside the counter. They strip you away of your clothes and lead you towards the tub.

"Your Majesty, we are so happy to have you as our Queen. We assure you you'll love it here, and the King. What a lucky woman to be able to represent our Kingdom. Tonight's going to be a night to remember." They rave on, startling you with how loud they were. You gasp as they place a cool cotton ball in your hand, wiping away any dirt with the rose water infused ball, scrubbing away at you hand. Then neatly wrapping your hand in a fist.

You nearly tell them to stop when they begin to pull and tug at your hair.

But it was their jobs and you wouldn't dare scold them for trying to help you, for years you promised you wouldn't be a mean Queen, you'd always be loving and kind. Even if it meant you had to endure few minor inconveniences.

Dreading each minute that went by, the time just edging closer and closer to the moment you'd be in a room with him. You bite at your lip, tugging the bottom piece not noticing thirty minutes had went by and it was time for you to leave the bath water. They tug you by your wrists and cover you with a towel, leading you into a changing room by yourself, leaving you to change into your undergarments before you wave them over.

Allowing them to finish their preparations.

You are seated back in your room, grateful you were provided your own room till you were finally settled to sleep with your “husband”. Facing the vanity mirror your body covered in a silk robe when a women knocks on the door.

"Hello, I'm Toga. I'll be your head handmaid, I'm tasked with preparing you for tonight's events." She grins, walking towards you and combing out your hair.

It's quiet for a while, an eerie feel swells in your chest. Her smile yells to not trust a single word that escapes her mouth, she's grinning like a slithering snake. Eyes slanted and dark, her voice chirps up to fill the silence.

"I heard you're pure.."

A gasp escape past your lips, her smile only getting larger by your expression.

"You know what's to be expected by tonight, I wouldn't be surprise if you wouldn't be able to walk the next day. You know what they say about the Dragons, barbaric.." she grabs your jaw and forcefully tugs you near her, whispering into your ear, "rough too. But I'm sure you'll be fine."

"H-He's not a-"

"Oh sweetie, of course he's not. Which makes it better for him... he'll know what it's like to fuck a virgin."

You slap the hairbrush out of her hand, kicking your vanity chair from beneath you.

"How dare you speak to me in such a malicious tone! Get out, immediately. Or else I'll be forced to hire another head handmaid. I'll prepare myself!" You sneer, pointing your finger towards the door.

She bows, and tsks kissing her teeth, “Whatever you say, your majesty.” She grins, her fingers trailing on the bed spread as she exits your room. Leaving you fuming at your vanity. You throw on the stupid night gown, huffing and running your fingers through your hair. You barley notice the figure standing at the end of your room, leaning against her door frame. You gasp, startled at the reflection of his ruby red eyes.

You turn around, hand on your chest. Walking backwards till your back meets your desk, his eyes aimlessly wandering over your body, tracing every dip and curve. He knocks on the door frame, “C-Come in...” your voice wavers.

His boots clank against the mahogany wooden floorboards, as he approaches you. Arms crossed over his chest till he’s finally only inches away from you, your heart is racing and a part of you wants to tell him to go away. To never come in here again, allowing Togas words to bounce around in your head. He takes a strand of your hair in his hand, admiring as it aimlessly fell through his fingers, draping over your shoulders. A finger tracing over your exposed shoulder.

“I thought you had Toga helping you out get ready.” His voice is firm, yet calm.

“I-I decided I wanted to change myself, tonight.” Your voice comes out in a stutter, you didn’t mean for it to sound so small and unsure. He nods, noticing your stature. He arches a brow, before stepping back.

“No harm, will come to you in this Kingdom. I won’t force you to do something you are clearly not ready for, nor will I make you perform an act we clearly don’t want to do. So sleep tight, and stay out of my way.”

Your breath hitches as he leaves your room, closing the door shut behind him. Your heart rate increasing by the second, you finally release the breath you yourself didn’t notice you were holding.

[bosspigeon]

if you're still bleeding

Pairing: Jax/M!Merc

Words: 2657

Summary: Jax should know better. He should know to mind his own damn business. But, unfortunately, he's well beyond "knowing better" now that he's gone and gotten tangled up with an unhinged mercenary with more knives than sense, and the scars that say the chances of him finding any sense are slim to none.

and if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones.

'cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone.

we're setting fire to our insides for fun.

collecting pictures from a flood that wrecked our home,

it was a flood that wrecked this home.

- "Youth" by Daughter

CW for: implied/referenced sex, sexual humor/innuendos, references to blood, violence, and trauma, and implications of kink

Knox is a man with scars.

Jax has plenty of his own, of course, but Knox has a lot of scars. There's a story to most of them, too, and he's never shy about telling them. Hell, half the time he tells those stories completely unprompted, whether you want him to or not.

There's a scar on his chin from where Royal told him he couldn't knee slide the entire bar. There’s the ugly knot of scar tissue where his left arm used to be, where the port to his prosthetic is grafted on. There's the scar in his stomach from the mook Jax had to help him bury. There's a scar on his lip where he bit himself too hard with his freakishly sharp teeth trying to keep quiet while Jax bent him over the hood of his car outside Saints and Sinners in the wee hours of the morning.

He's particularly happy to blab the story about that one to anyone who'll listen.

But he doesn't talk about the scar across his throat.

As little clothing as he tends to wear on the day to day, ("As little as I can get away with," he says with a sleazy wink) his neck is always covered. High-collared shirts, a jauntily knotted scarf, decorative chokers and heavy leather collars always keep it covered. He'll flash his tits before he'll show his throat—but in all fairness, it's not really all that hard to get him to flash his tits.

Jax didn't even see the scar until the fourth or fifth inadvisable hate fuck, at which point he was beginning to think he didn't hate the merc quite as much as he thought, considering he kept letting the little bastard in when he showed up at the door out of nowhere—and didn't shoot him when he decided to forgo the door entirely and come in through the window. (Jax still can’t be sure how he even got to the window, seeing as Jax lives in an apartment well above ground level, but he figures he’s better off not asking.) He didn’t think to ask about it until he’d actually lost count of how many inadvisable hate-fucks there’d been, and when they’d progressed somehow from inadvisable hate-fucks to still pretty inadvisable but otherwise amicable casual fucks.

Knox was loose and relaxed, quiet in a way Jax didn't even think was possible when they first met. And, to think, all it took was shoving him face down into the pillows and thoroughly wearing him out. Usually, he rolled out of bed as soon as his legs could hold him again, commandeered Jax's shower, and used half a bottle of his expensive conditioner before he disappeared without so much as a thank you. This time, he stayed. He sprawled gracelessly across Jax's sweat-stained silk sheets, arms stretched over his head, eyes half-closed and his ever-smirking mouth curled into something softer... almost sweeter.

Jax doesn't know what possessed him to roll over, to reach out and touch, but he did. He started at the inner thigh, the bruises he'd left with teeth and then fingers, a rumbling of possessive pride stoking the banked coals of satisfaction in his belly. His knuckles skimmed the soft curve of the merc's belly, the angry red scar tissue of that knife wound, then higher still. Inked into his sternum is a coyote skull, surrounded by boldly outlined flowers that curve along the underside of his breasts. Jax was almost surprised by the softness of the design, especially in comparison to the rest of the merc's ink, like the crude stick-and-poke perforated line and little pair of scissors right above his prosthetic, or the dirty pinup of some generic muscled pretty boy on his bicep, or the peach on his inner thigh that bears an artful addition of a T-dick very much similar to Knox’s own.

He wondered vaguely if the flowers meant anything to Knox.

Before he could dwell on the uncomfortably tender direction his thoughts had taken, his fingers travelled upwards, flicking absently at one of the heavy, angular piercing through Knox's nipples. Knox huffed a rough laugh, watching the progress of Jax's hand through eyes narrowed to dozy, yellow slits.

He traced Knox's collarbone, and his body was all but melted into Jax's bed, soft and pliant. Like he belonged there.

And then Jax’s curiosity got the better of him. He saw the scar, a thin line, pale with age, but standing in stark relief against Knox's tanned skin. It sits at a bit of an angle, slicing across the middle of the merc's throat.

The second his fingers made contact, skimming that raised line of flesh, he knew he'd fucked up.

Knox's body went taut for a split second, and that was all the warning Jax got before Knox was twisting his wrist hard enough for the bones to grind together and snarling in his face like a wild animal. If his knives weren't two rooms away in his discarded pile of clothes, Jax knows he would have lost fingers.

For once, Knox didn't say anything. For once, he was dead silent, mouth a grim sneer, eyes flat and hard. He shoved Jax roughly off him and rolled out of bed. He didn't look back once, stalking out of Jax's bedroom naked, every inch of his compactly muscled body vibrating with tension. Jax heard the rustle of clothes, the jingle of buckles and zippers and a half dozen knives, and then the front door slamming shut.

He didn't see Knox again until Orla called them in for another job, and it was as if nothing had happened. He was his usual smug, annoying self, not a single break in his usual facade of irreverent humor and Napoleonic bravado.

And maybe some of Knox's reckless stupidity is rubbing off on him, because Jax can't shake the curiosity that grips him, even now. He shoves it down, naturally, because he doesn't want the batshit merc to get twitchy on him again when he's got enough knives on him at any given time to outfit a military squadron. Hell, for all Jax knows, that's the end of it. He's not going to go crawling back to Knox (even if the sex is really fucking good—it's always the crazy ones, isn’t it?) and he knows Knox won't come to him first.

Except he does, dragging Jax into one of the back rooms after a meeting with Orla, shoving him against the wall, and dropping to his knees. Things go right back to normal after that, or as normal as they ever are with Coyote Fucking Knox. And as normal as they can be once Orla oh-so-sweetly reminds him there are cameras in the back rooms, and if he doesn't want stills of his dick forwarded to the entire Mirage gang, he'll keep his and Knox's exhibitionism where she doesn't have to see it.

So Knox continues to invade Jax's privacy, steal petty shit from his apartment and/or pockets, and loudly demand that Jax fuck him hoarse (-er) if he wants him to shut up.

And he winds up tangled in Jax's sheets again, sprawled out on his belly with one leg tossed over Jax's thigh, his face smashed into a pillow, one smug yellow eye watching Jax try to catch his breath beside him.

He could let it be. It's not like this is anything but a convenience. Some fun between… well, they're definitely not friends. Coworkers, if anything, and even that's pushing it. For a while, Jax considered it a fair trade for dealing with Knox's bullshit constantly. Now, it's becoming a pattern, and when it comes to semi-regular sex with a stab-happy mercenary, patterns can be dangerous.

But he can't kill the curiosity.

He figures his best bet is being blunt. And maybe getting ready to dodge in the very likely event things go south. He doesn't touch this time, at least not where they aren't already, Knox’s knee between his legs, the skin feeling a bit feverish and clammy as the sweat cools. The urge to touch is still there—he left some nice bite marks on Knox's shoulders he'd like to reacquaint himself with—but he ignores it for now. He rolls onto his side, meets that one yellow eye with quiet consideration, and props his head up on his hand.

Knox must read the change in his face, because he goes from cat-got-the-cream contentment to a warily curious tension. Jax just goes right for the throat, so to speak. “Any chance of hearing the story behind that one?” he says, casual as anything, and nods in the vague direction of Knox’s neck.

There’s a growling noise building up behind Knox’s teeth, but he bites it back. He smiles, but it feels feral, like an animal baring its teeth looks like a smile, but it's really a threat. It looks brittle, like it'll shatter if he tightens his jaw any further.

Jax gives in to the urge, reaching out to touch, fingertips skimming down the mercenary's spine. A shiver ripples across the skin. He’s not sure if it’s the right move, but at this point, if you’re going to Hell...

“I don’t know,” Knox says flatly, and Jax is almost shocked he answered at all. There’s no inflection, no mirth. Just that broken-glass smile.

Jax snorts. Knox never fucking shuts up, that much is true, but Jax isn’t stupid. He knows when someone’s talking a lot and saying nothing of importance on purpose, and he also knows when Knox can’t deflect, he lies his ass off like he was born to do it. Even Orla barely knows anything about her least favorite favorite merc or where he came from, though the chances of her caring enough to even try to find out are slim to none. Still, he has no idea what the mercenary even has to gain from lying, especially here. "If you don't want to say anything, just tell me to fuck off."

The knife edge smile stretches wider. Tips closer to the breaking point. "Fuck off," he echoes like a parrot.

Something starts to uncurl in Jax's gut, something burbling and acidic, a nasty niggling feeling he can't quite name. "You're serious," he says, and he doesn't want to believe it, mostly because he can't imagine someone like Knox taking that sort of… personal unknown well. “Nothing?”

The smile cracks, and Knox lifts his head so Jax gets the full effect of it. His eyes are wide, wild, and suddenly that smile is too big for his face. Slowly, he sits up, and there's the scar. Old and faded, but splitting his throat neatly and boldly from east to west. He drags his thumb across it, digs it in hard enough the white scar tissue goes a bit pink. He laughs. He's never had a pleasant laugh, rough and raspy and mean. Somehow, this one is worse. “Not a lick,” he drawls, and the effort it takes him to sound so casual almost makes Jax cringe. “There’s a reason Orla found me in the fuckin’ bargain bin.” He taps his temple, his messily painted nail clicking against the chip in his head.

Jax’s eyes flick down to the scar, frowning deeply. It doesn’t make sense. Knox is deflecting again, he has to be, but there’s something in the way he’s holding himself, the tension radiating from him, the way he slumps against the headboard of Jax’s bed with his knees pulled up, not quite close enough to hug to his chest, but more like he’s thinking about it, resisting the urge to physically hold himself together and risk looking weak.

"I have nightmares, sometimes," he admits, so soft the syllables catch on the rough edges of his ragged voice. "They never make any fucking sense. I'm just… I'm choking. Something’s cutting into my neck, and there’s someone behind me, and I know them, but— But I'm guilty? I don't know for what." He laughs, bitterly brittle. "Could be fucking anything. Got a lot to be guilty for that I can remember, never mind what I can't."

He inhales, and it sounds like it hurts him, like his breath is made of shards of glass. He drags his hand down his face until he can curl his fingers around his throat so the scar doesn't show. "I just know there's this perfume Orla wears that makes me want to climb the fucking walls and I don't know why. I think I know how to play the piano, but I can’t even look at one without wanting to smash it to pieces. Sometimes I hear some… some fucking opera song, or some shit? And I know the words, and I want to sing along, but then my voice just—just cracks, and I feel like… like a broken fucking wind-up toy? It's like my head doesn't remember anything, but the rest of me does and it makes me so fucking angry. What am I missing? Why does it matter?” His voice hitches dangerously, and there’s a stab of panic in Jax’s belly, his hands twitching like they want to—to reach out? “Why can’t it just leave me the fuck alone?"

Knox squeezes his own throat so hard the skin dimples around his fingers and bleeds white where he’s cutting off bloodflow. His shoulders tremble. There's something in the furrow of his brow, the twist of his mouth, that says angry isn't the only thing it makes him, but he either doesn't have the words to say it, or he just won't, not even to himself.

The silence falls again. Jax always thought he preferred silence where Knox was concerned. Turns out he was wrong. This silence is brutal, heavy and choking and just… wrong. When Knox does see fit to break it, it's with a loud exhale that almost makes Jax start.

"Would you look at the time," the merc says loudly, shaking out his bare wrist and looking at it critically. Jax could almost laugh. Knox tosses his legs over the edge of the bed smiling crookedly over his shoulder. "I should really head out, huh? Don't wanna overstay my welcome."

Before he can think, Jax snaps a hand out and catches Knox’s hip, squeezing. Not enough to stop him if he really wants to go, but enough to give him pause. Once again, Jax counts himself lucky they rarely make it to the bedroom before one or both of them are naked, which means all those knives are somewhere by the door, or scattered across his coffee table, or in the leather jacket tossed over the back of his couch. Coyote turns slightly, just enough to eyeball him. Just one yellow eye.

There's a lot Jax could say, a lot he even wants to, but there's something raw in that one yellow eye, something wary and broken that just wants to hide somewhere quiet and lick its wounds. They've been at this for way too fucking long at this point, Jax should know what to do with that, shouldn't he?

Maybe he does.

He snorts. "When the fuck have you ever cared about overstaying your welcome?" He smacks Knox's hip just on the wrong side of gentle, and rolls over. "You're not leaving until you help me change these sheets. Hell, maybe if I'm feeling generous, I'll let you back in bed after we shower."

He pushes up to his feet and stretches out the kinks in his muscles, allowing himself to luxuriate in the pleasant soreness leftover from their romp. Knox is quiet behind him, and he can't really think of when he actually started to trust the crazy bastard enough to turn his back to him.

Knox makes a rough little sound, something not quite a laugh. "Is that an order, Sir?" he asks, low and raspy-sweet.

Jax glances back with a raised eyebrow. "Do I need to make it one?"

[a-monsters-love]

Spice

[Master List]

Art credit goes to: @ianterweb​ -- [Original Post]

Bakugo x Reader

Warnings: swearing (obvi it’s Bakugo), blood, a drop of gore (not in a stomach churning way), toy guns, implied pining, spoilers if you haven’t watch season 4, mentioned of death, Slow Burn

Genre: angst, fluff, combat

Word count: 12k

Time Line: I extended the timeline around between the provisional licensing exam and the work study program, part of me doesn’t think irl they’d just thrown out of the frying pan and into the fire.

A/N / Inspiration: So I rewatched ATLA and honestly I really wanted a Ty Lee styled reader for this, like just upbeat and positive but irl she’s got demons. Also I fully believe Ty Lee could kick Bakugo’s ass, no one can change my mind. I firmly believe he needs an S/o who can just whoop his ass, part of me thinks that’s the only way he’d ever accept a crush or a relationship. 

*So like, if (y/n) fought like Ty Lee who uses Tai Chi and Dim Mak (loosely translates to “Touch of Death” but we know it as chi blocking)

*All Tai Chi and Yoga pose names I fully researched  

*don’t @ me for this but because their classes only carry 20 students I’m sacrificing our sweet boy Rikido Sato (code name: Sugarman) b/c I haven’t seen enough of his character to know how to write him :L #TheProverbialSacrificialGoat

(Y/N) = Your Name

(Y/N/N) = Your Nickname

(L/N) = Last Name

(H/C) = Hair Color

(S/C) = Skin Color

(E/C) = Eye Color

(H/L) = Home Land i.e country of origin

——————

“Listen up.” Aizawa Sensei announced to the class dropping a book on his podium, gathering the classes attention he lazily sighs before speaking again. “As you’ve all noticed we still have an empty seat in the back of the class,” He points his hand in the general direction. “Moving forward, I have to introduce you to a new student to the class.” On cue the classroom door slides open, you walk in calmly despite your excitement. Your (H/C) hair is pulled up into a neat bun with your bangs clipped to the side, the only addition to your uniform being a pair of half palmed white gloves, you can feel everyone’s eyes scanning over you as you waltz in. “This is (L/N) (Y/N), I’ll let her introduce herself.” He finished as he stepped into his sleeping bag.

You glanced over at your new teacher, quickly understanding what kind of person he is before looking back at the class. “Hello, please feel free to call me (Y/N/N).” You giggle softly, “I just moved to Japan from (H/L) and it’s my understanding you guys have been together for sometime so I‘ll be in your care.” You smiled sweetly and gave a delicate bow.

“You’ll be sitting behind Koda,” He pointed to the obvious empty seat, “Between Ochaco and Shoto.” Aizawa Sensei made little effort to discern the two. “(Y/N) has already been moved into the dorms so I expect everyone to do their part in helping her get settled.” 

You only smiled as you made your way to your desk, shaking hands and giving polite greeting to your new desk mates. The girl beside you made quick work of making friends with you, the boy in front of you was extremely shy but made his own effort to wave back at you. You listened in on the class as the morning babble began, whispers in curiosity and a few waves and smile. You can feel a creepy gaze that made your skin crawl and heard a single but loud tongue click. “Another extra.” You heard him groan, the comment only made you snort a bit before the lecture started. 

You took color coded notes based off theme and what you decided or Aizawa Sensei said was important. Ochaco whispered about how cute your notes are causing you to whisper and explain why you did it. You noticed the way Shoto listened in on your organization explanation when you silently offered him a red and green pen. He took them both gratefully and confused at your action before deciding to make his own version of you system. When first period was over your desk was swarmed by your new classmates. 

You smiled brightly as they all introduced themselves when a boy, who introduced himself as Iida, tried to dispel the mob. “No-no it’s okay, we have plenty of time to get acquainted anyway.” You reassured him bashfully as the slimy kid, who introduced himself as Mineta, got a little too close for comfort. You took great pleasure in watching the pink girl grab him by the ankle and drop him in the trash. 

It was then that you heard a soft and almost awkward voice, “Can I ask what your quirk is?” Asked the green haired boy, Izuku is what someone called him.

“Of course!” You beamed, his clear anxiety from the question washes away as he pulled out a beat up notebook. “My quirk is called Molecular Regeneration, so basically Healing+, from what Aizawa-Sensei explained to me this morning I’ll be able to fully show everyone during gym.” You scanned over the group and motioned for Denki to come over. “I can heal little things like this pimple-“ You removed a glove and tapped his skin, fading the pimple away. “To great wounds, within reason of course. I have to eat a ton of food for the carbs, fats, proteins and all the extra good stuff if I use my quirk excessively but it’s a trade off I’m happy to make.” You put your glove back on and rubbed the back of your neck as you watched Izuku beam and start spiraling as he took notes. One of the other students explained that he does that often.

——

During gym everyone was paired up to fight, for practical and strategical purposes. Everyone gasped when Aizawa paired you up with Bakugo, saying it was cruel and you were new. You giggled at their concern, knowing full well that you could and have taken the blunt of an actual bomb and come out fine. Well fine-ish. “I paired them up purposely because I know he’ll be able to go all out and she’ll be fine.” He droned at his gaping students.

Each pair took turns, you watched everyone fight, analyzing their fighting styles noting where they went wrong. Your mother was a trained martial artist so you learned at a young age to do this. When your turn arrived you were excited to finally get up. You decided to take off your shoes as the boots you were provided weren’t practical for how you fought. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re a girl.” Bakugo hissed.

You just smiled widely, “I’d be insulted if you did.” You chuckled, stretching a bit before getting into the Brush Knee starting position, legs spread slightly with a bent knee, one palm flat towards the ground and the other raised facing the boy. You looked relaxed, which seemed to anger him. As Aizawa blew his whistle he was quick to charge, when he got close you slapped his inner wrist the back of each hand. This pushes his arms to his sides as you twist around him and aggressively push on his spine with your palm causing him to falter forward. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re a boy.” You teased at him, the face he made was that of confused rage.

“You think you can beat me with a few slaps?” He chided, earning a laugh from you as he charged again. 

“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” You snorted.

His wrists sparked as he aimed to use his quirk on you, “We’ll see about that.” You could almost hear amusement in his voice as he made a circle out of one hand and shot exploding bullets at you. You barely managed to dodge as you pushed yourself into a backhand spring, you confused him when you used your arms to push towards him. 

He went to use and exploding hand to punch at you as you jabbed repetitively at his quirk fueled arm. His explosion dissipating as his arm went limp. “I suppose we will.” You beamed close to his face before failing to see the swift kick he struck your side with, easily throwing you from your close proximity. You chuckled a bit with a small cough as you skidded in the distance, didn’t see that coming.

“What the fuck did you do to my arm?” He demanded an answer as you ran back and cartwheeled towards him using the propulsion to jump at him, aiming a leg to kick him from the side. Knowing he’d reflexively block the kick when you were close you used your other foot to kick his chin upwards. 

Your kick was successful and satisfying, “Dim Mak, also known as Chi Blocking.” When he regained his stance from your kick you jabbed at his other arm causing it to go limp. You stood beside him as he groveled a bit. “And with that~ I think I win, I don’t think it’s much of a fair fight at this point.” You smiled sweetly at him. 

Aizawa whistled again to end the match, you grabbed Bakugo’s wrist shaking the limp limb to Aizawa when you heard a pop, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” You quietly warned him still holding his wrist with a smirk but being who he is as a person the hand you held exploded with his quirk. 

You heard an audible scream from the class, after the dust dispersed your hand was basically gone. Your radius and ulna bones were cracked and broken poking up from your tattered forearm, blood splattered across both your face and Bakugo’s. All the rage that quelled in his system wiped clean with a guilty and horrified expression, seeing the blood that soaked part of your hair and the mess he created. “Oh fuck, I-“ He started but realized you were still smiling, even as blood dropped down your arm. Aizawa groaned loudly. 

“Well, that was… spicy.” You snorted. Within moments the bones started to grow where your hand once was, thick red muscles climbed the bones followed by skin. You were regenerating your hand, you smiled but your gaze was dark as you stared at him. “I told you not to do that.” Using your newly regrown hand you punched him in the side of the face causing him to hit the floor, hard.

“I deserved that one.” He mumbled quietly on the ground, you stood over him smiling smugly. 

“Come on, get up and let me fix your arms.” You waved for him to sit up before looking to Aizawa, “I’m leaving early after this for a shower.”

“Please.” He sighed, sending up the next group who were just staring at you in a mix of horror and awe. “We don’t have all day.” Aizawa said.

You sat Bakugo down and sat behind him, almost forcing him to lean his back into your knees and shins. “Alright, Spice, let me fix your nerves.” You removed the glove that didn’t get blow up and pulled at a limp arm, using your quirk to heal the damaged nerves as well as massaging into pressure points to release the tension you forced into his blood stream. He groaned in agony before sighing in relief.

When you were done he rubbed his arms and hands as the prior numbness faded, he looked back at you as you decided to heal the burnt skin on your shoulder and cheek. You smirked when you caught his gaze on you, he ruffled his hair aggressively as he got up and ushered you to follow him. You both needed to head to the dorms to clean up, as you followed behind him you heard him mumble. “I’m sorry.” He earned a chuckle out of you causing him to look back. I just blew up your literal arm to the bones and you were acting like a ray of fucking sunshine, he thought to himself as confusion knitted his brows. “I’m not sure what happened, I didn’t know I could be that lethal.” He admitted almost hissing out the words as if they were painful.

“I’m not mad, Aizawa paired me up with you for that reason.” You shrugged bashfully, “And what happened back there was kinda… mostly my fault..” Your admission seemed to confuse him more. “When I jabbed you’re arms I disrupted your blood flow and by default your quirk. You have a strong one so it essentially grew like an actual bomb and exploded more or less on its own.” He watched you explain, you just hoped he wouldn’t feel too guilty. “Look. If you’re sorry just get me lunch or something, Spice.” You smiled softly at the comment as you finally got to the dorm, making your way to your rooms to grab a change of clothing and then to your respective bathrooms to shower.

Bakugo grumbled over the whole ordeal before settling on the new nickname you’ve given him. Spice. What the fuck is that about, he couldn’t wrap his head around it but he learned quickly that he wouldn’t be able to stop you. You made that clear when you essentially wiped the floor with him, the thought of that made him yell out in frustration. “Stupid girl.” He hissed as he got dressed. 

You were waiting for him at the door in a fitted t-shirt and your gym shorts. Flitting through your phone aimlessly, he noticed your usual smile was gone. Replaced with something bored and almost listless, when you noticed him your lips curled at the edges into a soft smile. “Come on, Spice.” You waved for him as you opened the front door.

“Stop calling me that.” He snapped, frustrating that he could tell you wouldn’t.

You snorted with a loud ‘HA’, “Would you prefer Spicy Boy? Blasty? Bomb-dot-com? Oh! What about Limb Remover?”

Bakugo groaned trying to walk faster than you, “No!” He hissed at you, eliciting a hearty laugh from you.

“Spice it is.” You wink as you took lead almost skipping in front of him. He groaned loudly as you joined the rest of your class before gym was over. The two of you bickered back and forth for sometime and you could only laugh at his rising and dwindling frustration. Kirishima joined the conversation, fist bumping the only other person he could imagine withstanding an explosion from Bakugo. You could hear Izuku spiraling behind you and decided to turn a bit to answer his questions. “I’ve never successfully grown other people’s limbs or organs back but I can accelerate growth of, like, hair and finger nails.” You commented to one of his questions. “Though if you’re arm got like cut off cleanly I could potentially reattach it, I imagine it wouldn’t feel the same though.” You scratched at your damp hair that was now down from its bun to dry, your mouth was slanted not quite a frown but it was obvious to anyone that the gears in your head were spinning. 

Bakugo just stared at you with half lidded eyes as you spoke, part of him wanted to hiss at Deku to piss off with his nerdy ass research note book. However when you pulled the note book from Izuku’s hands and flitted through it with knitted brows and scold him for the condition of the note book it almost earned you a laugh. Almost. When you asked about the burns on the notebook he was hesitant to answer, “Accidents happen.” Was all he managed, you gave him a raised eyebrow but didn’t pester the topic. 

——

At lunch you had lost sight of Bakugo and didn’t think much of it, you were quickly wrangled by the girls of class 1-A as you paid for your meal, they pulled you to a table where you sat with Asui, Ochaco, Shoto, Izuku and Iida. You were quiet listening in on their conversations, providing a comment when needed as you quickly ate your food. You temporarily sated your stomach, knowing you should eat more before your quirk absorbed the contents of your stomach. You got up to put your tray away, running into Bakugo on the way back. “Hey, Spice. I lost you for a minute.” You snickered at him, he just grunted and rolled his eyes. Dragging you back to the lines to get lunch, or in this case a second helping. He didn’t say anything as you waited in line with him, he paid for your meal and made sure you received it before walking off. Waving a lazy hand back at you. “Prideful brat.” You snickered to yourself before rejoining your table.

“What’s all that?” Asui asked.

“Bakugo bought me lunch,” The table gaped at your comment. “As an apology for blowing up my arm.” You said pointedly, “Plus my quirk already started to absorb what I got earlier since I had to regrow a limb.” You half sighed half laughed at the comment. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you guys.” You rubbed your neck, this was a tell for you. 

Shoto shrugged, you knew Izuku nerded out on what happened, “We’ve seen scary quirks, yours wasn’t as scary as the situation, kero.” Asui said, Ochaco nodded fervently in agreement. 

You sighed in relief and started eating gleefully. This hit the spot, you were grateful to Bakugo even though it was your idea.

——

At the end of the day you followed your class back to the dorms, making quick work to get into your comfy clothes. You wore a short (but not quite cropped) shitty band shirt and a pair of high waisted pajama shorts that were just long enough to keep yourself covered if you stretched. You sat at the bar with a book as you idly watched Momo file through the kitchen. She offered tea which you happily accepted, discussing each of your preferences. You were a big fan of spiced drinks, chai’s more often than not.

Iida made his way to you not too long after with a schedule in hand, it showed everyone’s chores and what days they do them and with whom. He had added you to the schedule, noting that you had been paired with Bakugo on a large handful of occasions. Iida mentioned that you were one of the few who made it clear that you could clearly handle him he decided to rearrange the schedule as such to relieve some stress from your other classmates. You laughed and agreed that it would probably be for the best. 

The evening droned on a bit before dinner, you offered to help Izuku and Ochaco in the kitchen since you gave everyone quite the scare earlier. They both happily agreed, you helped out and decided to make a side dish your mom always made at home when you had a bad day. It was simple and it always seemed to cleanse the palate. When you let it simmer you made quick work of pulling out plates to serve at the table, helping Ochaco and Izuku when something started going awry.

When dinner was served and everyone was seated you weren’t sure where to sit until Kirishima dragged you to sit with him, Mina, Denki, Bakugo and Sero. You laughed, figuring you sat with the others at lunch. “Fine, fine, I’ll sit just stop dragging me.” You sat in the middle of the table between Bakugo and Kirishima, who asked loads of questions about your fighting style. “Oh, it’s just Tai Chi.” 

“You mean that thing old people do at the crack of dawn?” Denki asked, that’s definitely not what he expected.

You snorted and rolled your eyes, “Yeah, Tai Chi is a form of defensive martial arts that can also be used for meditation.” You ate a bit before continuing. “When used offensively the base principal of it is redirection, our bodies are covered in pressure points that-“ You took a sip of water. “If hit hard enough can fuck up your opponents whole fighting position and quickly turn the tables.”

“You still never explained what you did to my arms.” Bakugo hissed, almost pouting as he ate.

You scoffed, “Yes I did! I told you on the way back to the dorm after you blew up my arm!” You laughed, “I can explain it again if it didn’t make sense, Spice.”

The other boys and Mina snorted at the new nickname, “Please explain,” Sero managed to laugh out. 

“Okay. So, the fighting style for that is called Dim Mak, which means ‘Touch of Death’. Essentially I hit all the right pressure points directly to disrupt his blow flow, disabling his arms and quelling his quirk. Well, until the end.” You rubbed your neck bashfully at your mistake. “With Tai Chi you only hit pressure points to redirect, not do damage to the nervous system.” 

The other four just laughed, Bakugo just grunted and rolled his eyes as he ate. When they moved to the side dish you made Denki and Sero almost inhaled it. “This is so good, what is it?” Denki asked, knowing you helped in the kitchen.

“Oh, I made that. It’s [Food Name], just comfort food my mom always made for me when I had a bad day. I gave everybody a good scare today so I figured it’s be nice to have.” You shrugged to him nonchalantly, not noticing Bakugo had also made quick work of the dish. 

“I’m gonna need seconds of this.” He snorted getting up. 

You didn’t say much else while you ate, eating was a reprieve for you. When you finished your dishes you let out a happy sigh. Finally satiated for the day, you leaned over to Bakugo as he finished eating. “You never gave me a chance to thank you for lunch.” You gave him a smile before getting up to clear the table of empty dishes to return to the kitchen. 

“Shut up.” He snapped, following your actions as you walked into the kitchen. You hummed at his response, figuring he was too prideful. 

“Well, thank you none the less, I would’ve been starved if it weren’t for you.” You snicker, Bakugo just crossed his arms and looked at the time. You heard Mina call for you and ask if you wanted to watch a movie before bed, “Of course!” You call back, “You gonna join us Spice?” Looking back at him with a tired smile. 

“No.” He retorted quickly before leaving the kitchen heading towards his dorm, hearing a faint ‘good night’ from you.

You join your new pink friend who loops her arm in yours pulling you to the living room where you sat almost snuggled between her, a pillow and Ochaco. You were cozy enough to fall asleep but every movement either of the girls made roused you. You remembered seeing this movie once, letting you answer a few questions anyone had without spoilers. “Damn,” You mumbled to yourself with a yawn, realizing how tired you actually were. You shook Mina, whispering that you were heading to bed before sliding over the back of the couch. You waved a lazy good night to the others who noticed and headed to your room. 

——

The next morning you woke to the sun rising and danced across your eye lids, getting a good pop filled stretch before crawling out of the warm comfort of your blankets. Your morning routine was simple, brush your teeth, sort out your hair, wash your face, down a glass of water, make tea, listen to music and practice your morning yoga and tai chi filled exercises. You decided to wear your gym shorts for stretching; not with a creep like Mineta in the house, you thought storing your pajamas. You walk to the patio out front, enjoying the brisk morning air before setting down your tea on the banister. You had your Bluetooth headphones in and placed your phone on the windowsill. You made basic stretches to loosen up before grabbing your ankles as you bent into a full uttanasana, you stretch up pulling your leg to a natarajasana but pulling your foot closer to the back of your head before switching legs. Continuing this for sometime before starting your Tai Chi, ‘fickle habits lead to fickle lives’ your mother mantra played in your mind frustratingly. 

Bakugo has always been the ‘first to bed - first to rise’ type of person. In the dorms this gave him more liberties in the morning, as he had a tendency to walk out of his room to the showers in boxers and maybe a t-shirt most mornings. The last thing he was expecting was to see the electric kettle steaming after it’s obvious use. His eyes darted around, listening keenly to the main lobby of the dorm. He didn’t hear anything inside but spotted a phone outside of the building on the windowsill. Bakugo’s sight narrowed in before realizing he was walking towards it to see who the fuck is outside at this hour, or if someone left it outside on accident. He stepped slowly seeing you stretching on the patio, he couldn’t hear anything but he noticed the device was lit up playing music. Holy shit she’s listening to aggressive rap, he thought spotting the song title. The playlist was labeled ‘✨ GOOD MORNING ✨’ he snorted at the idea of that being morning music, the song changed to some classic punk rock song he recognized. He decided to leave you be, he would never admit it but he absolutely took in the sight of you before shuffling to the bathroom to start his own morning routine. 

When you finished your morning routine you made haste to grab your uniform and run to the shower. When you got out you saw Bakugo in the kitchen preparing what you assumed was his breakfast. “Good morning, Spice.” You said sweetly.

You just hear a grunt from him when you sat down to dry your hair properly, “Morning.” You hear him quietly mutter, as he brought out a plate with his breakfast. “Dry your hair properly.” He hissed, you snorted and continued working the dampness from your hair. 

Once you were satisfied you finished buttoning your uniform top and tying the tie, you left for a moment to return your towel to its home and pull your hair into a bun. Clipping back your mostly dry bangs as you returned to the lobby, “Whatever you made smells great,” You made your way to the kitchen for a second cup of tea. “Want tea?” You asked in passing. He grumbled something but didn’t say no so you made him a glass anyway, letting them steep as you made your way to your room to grab your book bag. When you got back and the tea had settled you placed a glass in front of the seemingly agitated blonde. Making breakfast for yourself and joined him at the table. You ate and flitted through yesterday’s notes.

Bakugo watched you out of the corner of his eye, you were so casual as if you’d been here the whole time. Something about you frustrated him endlessly, he figured he’d be able to narrow it down later. He begrudgingly accepted the tea, it was spicier than he expected. He wondered if this was a jab at him with the shitty nickname you’d bestowed him with.

—

A couple weeks passed quickly as you adjusted to your life at UA, you spent your early mornings with Bakugo before the other lazily made their way to the lobby, class began, then gym, then lunch, more classes, back to the dorms for a mix of homework and playtime with dinner somewhere in the mix. 

One weekend you decided to sleep in, which was a mistake as Mina had invited herself into your room and tackled your sleeping form. Eliciting a great squeal from you and you both ended up on floor with a loud *THUD*. “You know. I’m gonna skip the ‘what is wrong with you’ and go straight for the why, Mina.” You groaned, groveling on the floor at her excited stupor.

“We’re going to the mall! Get up! Get dressed!” She was bouncing at you as you slumped upon the floor, calves still on your bed. “Come ooonnn (Y/N/N)!!”

You snorted at her, “Fine, give me 20 minutes.” With that she was gone as fast as she came, you stood and pulled out your casual clothes you now rarely got to wear. Throwing on a pair of high waisted skinny jeans, a fitted white crop top, a thin burnt amber cardigan that went down to your calves, topped with honey brown softly pointed ankle boots. You left your hair loose aside from pulling your bangs upright to clip them back, providing a small bumped look you could live with. You grabbed your small purse that slings across your shoulders only holding your phone and wallet and a pair of round darkly tinted sun glasses before meeting up with the Bakugang. Mina gaped at your outfit excitedly, all four boys on the other hand just stared. “Too much? It’s just casual wear.” You shrugged and offered a soft but awkward smile.

“Shut up, you look great!” Mina snorted, she wore a loose crop top that hung just above the belt line of her skinny jeans, “You have plenty of time to check (Y/N/N) today idiots, let’s go!” She looped her arm with yours and almost dragging you along.

You never cared to much for shopping, you had what you needed and what you liked but you enjoyed spending time with the Bakugang outside of UA. Mina asked you about what your makeup preferences were and you admitted that you knew little regarding the topic. The boys whined to eat, “I’m always game for food.” You snorted, you were being dragged around more than anything anyway. 

You all sat around a table in the mall talking about nonsense, eating your respective lunches. They quickly got used to just how much you ate, much to your relief. When lunch was over the six of you ended up in an arcade, you and Denki played a shooting game with the big plastic colorful guns. Denki grabbed the red plastic cabled hand gun leaving you with the bright orange cabled shot gun. You snorted when he thought he had the better gun. “HOW ARE YOU SO GOOD AT THIS?” He whined as he watched you take shot after shot.

“The keener the eye the better the hero, also my dad was big into hunting back in (H/L).” You chuckled, “Both of my parents are Quirkless so they reveled in what they could.” You quickly beat the game, re-holstering the plastic gun you collect your almost endless stream of tickets. “You can imagine I was a huge surprise for them.” Sero snorted and agreed at your last comment. 

You made an abysmal attempt to fold up your tickets when Kirishima pulled you into some game him and Bakugo were playing. You were sure the blonde would get you guys kicked out as he seemed to be intent on destroying the game itself. You laughed loudly at him yelling “DIE!!” And “I’LL KILL YOU!!” At the console. Mina pulled you to play skee-ball next to them, you made for a mediocre game as you couldn’t stop laughing at Bakugo’s video game rage.

You managed though, collecting more tickets and playing another round as Mina, Sero, Denki and you made a bet. The person with the lowest score would have to calm the blonde down. “Game on!” Denki puffed, you smirked cheekily as the challenge began. 

After about 5 minutes the four of you were neck in neck with high scores but you fell short of third place. You groaned, collecting your tickets. Mina and Denki wiggled their eyebrows at you and Sero just laughed at your dismay, “Fine!” You laughed, walking over the the blonde on the verge of explosion. “Hey, Spice?” You placed your gloved hand on his shoulder. He snapped at you, scowling at your disruption. “Help me pick out a prize with my tickets?” You didn’t wear your usual smile, your brows knitted, concerned about the potential problem if he blew up the game.

Bakugo could almost breathe fire at you in his rage, but the concerned look you gave him threw him off. He just tossed up his hands and almost growled before crossing his arms letting you usher him to the prize table with a relieved smile. Sero, Mina, Denki and Kirishima were floored; their jaws slack at the ease at which you had simmered him and removed him from the game he almost blew up. They all looked at each other with devious grins as they huddled together. 

At the prize table you had to put all your tickets into some machine that counted them out, “Thanks for agreeing to help me.” You smiled up at him as he unraveled the mess of tickets you had. He just grunted and huffed in response, he wasn’t a big talker outside of when he screamed about being the best or when he got mad. When he did talk you could tell he put thought into his words, even when he wasn’t talking to you. When all the tickets were counted out you were directed to the charm section of the prize table. “What do you think?” You pestered him.

He squatted down, eyeing most of the girly charms. He didn’t know what girls liked, he watched you look over the more boyish themed charms. “I don’t know,” He hissed, “What’s the point of this anyway.” 

“Making memories.” You smiled into the glass, spotting a charm that caught your eye. “Oh! Can I look at that one?” You asked the staff behind the counter, the pulled out a little bob-omb phone charm. You snickered at it, “How do we feel about this one?” You handed it to him, he just stared at it with knitted brows before scowling at you. “What??”

“It’s a bomb.” He said.

“So are you.” You snorted and rolled your eyes. “I think it’s cute.”

With a over dramatic “TCH.” He handed it back, “Well I guess that’s the one then.” He rolled his own eyes, “Why did you ask for my help if you didn’t need it?”

You handed you ticket stub to the staff and looped the charm onto your phone, “I didn’t know I wouldn’t need your help.” You pushed him back towards the group, “Come on, I think everyone is burnt out on games.”

Before leaving the arcade everyone found a one of those kawaii photo booths. Mina somehow managed to usher everyone in, her and the other three boys pushed you and Bakugo together, you took the standard photos, Kirishima managed to swindle the ‘Glamouroki’ face out of Bakugo for the final ‘funny face’ photo. You, Mina and Denki burst into tears of laughter at the scene, Sero wheezed into the side of the booth. The face was now encapsulated for all of time in the photo booth six sticker sheets. You slipped the photo behind your clear phone case, making sure not to stick it down. “God. We have to keep this forever.” Mina cried out.

“That was solid gold.” You wheezed out wiping your face, Bakugo shouted and hit Kirishimas hardened head when he figured out it was photographed. “Holy shit, that couldn’t have been more perfect.” You panted taking a deep breath.

“Let grab a few drinks before heading home.” Kirishima cried out from his own laughter, you all agreed. Heading to a vending machine on your way out.

——

The next day after finishing weekend homework the bakugang decided to have a movie night. You noticed that Mina and the boys had been pushing you and Bakugo together, not that you minded but you couldn’t pin point why so you shrugged off the thought. It had been decided that the four of them would prepare snack and drinks if you and Bakugo would pick a movie. “Soo- they’re clearly plotting something,” You joked at the blonde as you both dig through his movie collection. “Should we pick a movie they can’t handle as revenge?” This elicited a laugh out of him.

“I didn’t think ‘little miss sunshine and rainbows’ would come up with such a devious idea.” He snorted at you.

“Sunshine and Rainbows only appear after a dark storm.” You smirked while pointing at him. 

He laughed, you almost dropped the DVD you were looking at when you heard it. “Oh, this is gonna be great.” The two of you picked the most gruesome and twisted movie you could find in his collection. Putting it in his DVD player before the others returned. You and Bakugo were chuckling at each other, unwittingly it seemed to excite the other four. You and Bakugo sat on his bed as the rest sat choice-fully on the floor. Denki turned off the lights as Mina sorted out snacks so everyone could reach them and passed around drinks.

They movie started fine, easily pulling them in, you stifled laughter. Bakugo was much better at doing that, though he had a smirk plastered onto his face. You adjusted yourself to pulling your knees up to your chest comfortably, to an outside perspective your were preparing for the movie to get more twisted, from Bakugo’s perspective he just noted a smile that curled at your lips behind your hands that rested on your knees. He started to get irritated with how much attention he paid to you. The simple ways you shifted as the movie dragged on, the excitement that built up causing you to bite your bottom lip. He had the urge to smack you and telling you to stop biting your lip. He shook his head at the thought. Nope, nu-uh. These are not thoughts he was ready to have. He forced his attention from you and focused on the movie with knitted brows. 

You adjusted again, crossing your legs and grasping your ankles in anticipation. Part of you was totally enthralled in the movie, you love this stuff, the other part was excited for the wicked prank you and Bakugo had setup for your poor unwitting friends. The first scene that got to them came, enticing a loud set of screeches from the four on the floor and you had gasped at the scene jumping a little and then a chuckle at their responses. You looked back at Bakugo who was already looking at you and beamed, “Success.” You whispered at him, he smirked back and nodded before your attention was back on the screen.

By the time the movie was over you firmly believe you traumatized the four, “WHY WOULD YOU PUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT ON.” Mina whisper yelled.

You and Bakugo glanced at each other from where you sat on the bed and laughed softly, “I thought it was a good movie.” You retorted. 

“You guys are a bunch of babies, if you want to watch something soft you pick the movie.” Bakugo snorted waving a hand at the movie collection, it was movie night after all.

Denki looked a little brain fried as Mina and Kirishima darted to the movie collection to pick something to quell their pained minds. You laughed again, sliding off the bed as you looked at the time. “It’s getting late, we can afford one more movie but I’m gonna go change.”

You made your way out of Bakugo’s room to yours, you tossed your hair up in a messy bun and threw on a baggy shirt, a pair of shorts and a warm cardigan. Quickly making your way back to his room when you hear bickering. “Don’t you dare, that’s (Y/N/N)’s!” You hear Mina say. 

You poke your head in to see her wrangling your phone from Bakugo’s grip, trying to get the photo you slid into your case out. “Oh-ho.” You piped out, “I see, I can’t trust you with my belongings.” You snorted, knowing how he felt about the hilarious photo. You slid in quickly snatching your phone from them both before finding your barely warm spot still on the bed. 

Mina huffed in success and Bakugo just crossed his arms, “It’s just a stupid photo.” He grumbled.

“It’s my stupid photo, Spice.” You said, “And if you try to take it again I’ll print large poster versions of it and plaster it to every wall in the school.” You chided at him with an almost evil smirk.

He groaned and Mina turned the lights back off as the next movie played. You felt Bakugo’s knee tap yours, as if it was some silent confirmation of your words. Your smile softened a bit and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. His scowl still ever present but softer than his usual. Kirishima yawned, causing everyone else to yawn. You cozied yourself in your sweater against the wall as you watched the movie with half lidded eyes. Your shoulders slouched a bit and you ended up leaning you arm into Bakugo, who just stiffened at the action. This kept you awake through the movie, not that you were paying it any attention to it.

Bakugo on the other hand was now wide awake due to your sudden touch into his arm, this is not how he expected things to go. Though your prank was an absolute success, he wasn’t prepared for the aftermath. He was irritated and confused at your current actions, you should be angry at him not leaning into him! Did he want you to be mad at him? He couldn’t think straight.

As soon as the movie ended he ushered everyone out, even you in your sleepy stupor. You and Mina just looped arms and made your way back to the girls side of the building, triple checking that you had your phone. 

You knocked out quickly when you got to your room, you had a great weekend. Bakugo didn’t have such luck, he just assumed you showed anger different ways and made a mental list of what to do about it before he had the luxury of sleep. 

——

The next morning you were back to your usual routine, however you found you weren’t the first one up. You watched the blonde cook in the kitchen before starting your routine, you got ready to exercise when you decided to disturb him. “Good morning, Spice. Food smells great, as usual.” 

You watch his frame stiffen, but grunt as usual, “Morning, (Y/N).” He groaned, maybe he slept on the wrong side of the bed? You thought, continuing your stare at him.

“I’m gonna work out, come grab me if you need anything, okay?” You offered but he just waved you off stiffly. You got to your work out, followed by a shower and drying your hair properly so you didn’t have to listen to Bakugo whine about it. Making your way back to the kitchen to make tea for the both of you. The blonde just stiffened at your presence in the kitchen so you made quick work of the tea, this morning was different though. Bakugo had made breakfast for you too, uh oh. You thought, something must’ve happened. “Are you alright?” You asked staring in surprise, “Not that I’m not elated to try your cooking but-“ You were cut off by him shaking his head and starting to eat.

You watched him for a minute before started to eat as well, holy shit. Was all you could think, “This is really good.” You said softly, smiling as you quickly ate. 

He still didn’t say anything, you wondered what snapped in him. You finished quickly and when he was done he collected your dishes. Finishing his cooking in the kitchen after the rice cooker pinged. You flitted through your papers making sure everything was in order  for the day when you hear a *thump* beside you. You looked over and it was a larger than average bento, wrapped neatly. You just cocked an eyebrow at it and looked at Bakugo, “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s wrong?” He’s clearly broken this morning. “Are you sick?” He scowled down at you, differently than you’ve seen before. He just let out a frustrated noise at your confused behavior. 

You watch him for a moment before anything happens, he just pushes out the chair beside you and sits crossing his arms scowling differently at you. “The last time you were weirdly quiet and gave me lunch as when you blew up my hand...” You lean your head back thinking before it clicks. “Oh my god, is this about the sticker??”

He just groans in frustration, “Obviously! Your probably furious with me!” He hissed, watching your form relax, no smile in sight just concern. “I don’t fucking know!” He threw his hands out. 

You put your hand to your face, a chuckle escaped you and turned to a hearty laugh, “Katsuki.” He flinched, that’s the first time you’ve said his name. “I’m not mad, that sticker is just a fucking sticker. I only wanted to keep it because it’s an original. Those photo booths have an option to email the photos, so I have a digital copy.” You pull out your phone and hand it to him. “If you don’t want me to have it to the point of this much guilt or frustration, take it. I won’t fight you, Spice.”

He stared at you in awe, now he just felt like a fucking idiot. His brain was addled with you over some stupid fucking sticker. What is going on with me?? You seemed to agree that he was losing his shit, not that you even knew it was about you. He pushed your phone back towards you and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t worry about it.” Was all he said before he got up to clean, leaving you with both photo and bento. He doesn’t say anything to you for the rest of the morning as he disappears to finish getting ready for school. 

——

A few days passed and Kirishima brought up the provisional licensing exams that passed before you transferred in. “He probably would have passed if you were there (Y/N).” Kirishima says in passing. You had asked him how they did the testing in Japan.

You hummed at the comment before looking at the redhead, “I don’t think I could have made him be nice to people.” You shrugged a bit, he only failed because he’s abrasive. “He doesn’t yell at me because I’ve proven I can kick his ass.” The comment makes you both chuckle but Bakugo just shouts out in the distance, you both only laugh harder. 

That morning the class found out about the work study program, you weren’t here for the sports festival so your options were more limited. Ochaco wanted to introduce you to GunHead but he wasn’t taking work study students; Aizawa said Amajiki-Senpai would introduce you and Kirishima to Fatgum. The two of you fist bump at the offer knowing full well that your friend harassed the poor kid into it. No one could foresee the events that followed. 

You found yourself in a meeting discussing the take down of a Yukuza crime syndicate and the rescue of a small girl named Eri. The details of the situation she was in made your stomach churn. Over the next few days you found yourself hanging out with Kirishima, Ochaco, Asui and Izuku more. You all were brooding over the up coming event, your normal routine didn’t change much but the event pulled the 5 of you together. On movie night Denki decided to bring it up to you and Kirishima, you both just kind of looked at each other before making up some bullshit answer. “Honestly, the work study program is just a lot more than we expected. We were just brooding about it.” Was all you could manage, you rubbed the back of your neck uncomfortably. You hear Bakugo click his tongue at the blatant lie but you couldn’t defend yourself. It was getting harder to wear your usual smile while waiting for a message for the raid. 

—

The day of the raid was devastating, even though the raid itself went by a lot faster than you had expected. You rode in the ambulance with Sir Night Eye, keeping him stable until you arrived at the hospital. You can’t regrow other people’s missing organs but you did everything you could, you just sobbed for most of the time. You were lucky you didn’t receive any damages that would have you stuck in the hospital, you helped heal everyone’s wounds to get them out sooner but it was draining. A few hero’s who claimed to be in your debt brought food to you as you ran around the hospital. Forcing you to sit down and eat, you thanked them telling them they didn’t have to but they waved off the comment.

——

A few days later you were sitting, curled up in the corner and arm of a couch, in the common room in the middle of the night, you didn’t want to be stuffed in your room anymore. You felt like your tears dried out, you just sat staring at your phone screen when you heard foot steps from behind. You payed no mind to it as they walked into the kitchen, you’ve been staring at the same page on your phone trying to focus until the other person spoke, “It’s the middle of the night, go to bed dumbass.” You looked up to see Bakugo, he was right but something made tears bubble in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill. 

Bakugo had just run down to get a bottle of water when he saw you sitting on the couch, you were just on your phone so he couldn’t understand why you weren’t doing that in your room. After he spoke up he turned to face you, he saw tears in your eyes as they slowly ran down your cheeks. He panicked he’d never admit that, he walked over and squat down in front of you. He didn’t say anything but he just stared up at you with his brows knitted. “S-sorry. Ah-I just, I d-don’t-“ You stuttered and rubbed your eyes furiously.

He clicked his tongue, “Shut up.” He hissed, he hears what ever you were going to say hitch in your throat and you try to stifle your tears. “That’s not- ugh.“ He cut himself off, comforting people wasn’t in the list of things he was good at. Bakugo gets up from were he was squatting and walks back into the kitchen. When he gets back he hands you water bottle and sits down next to you. “Drink.”

Your hands were shaking but you managed to open the bottle and take a sip, Bakugo finally got a glance at the mess behind your hands. Your (E/C) eyes were red and puffy, the skin around them was raw, your nose and cheeks were irritated from being rubbed at. His brows knit further watching you struggle to put the lid back on. He just snatched the lid and puts it back on for you, “T-thanks.” You sputtered at him, “Sorry, I’m a mess aren’t I?” You force our a small chuckle, he only clicks his tongue.

“Stop apologizing when you’ve done nothing wrong!” He whisper yells at you, you nod at him from behind your hands as they made their way back to your face. “Stop that!” He grabbed your wrists causing you to look at him, when he hoped you’d stop abusing your pretty face he let go of your wrists and grabbed your ankles. You almost yelped at the action as he just lifted them up and aggressively scooted closer, dropping your legs over his lap. “What the fuck is so wrong that’s got Little Miss Sunshine in tears?” He hissed at you. 

You almost gaped at him, who is this and what have they done with Bakugo?? As soon as you snapped back to reality you wrapped your arms around your thighs, tears still dripping out of your eyes. “I just, I feel like a failure.” You go on to explain the raid, how messed up Kirishima and Tamaki-senpai got and the loss of Sir Night Eye. “I should’ve been able to do more!” You whisper yelled through tears, “My quirk is molecular regeneration for fucks sake!” You dropped your head into your knees, sobbing quietly.

Bakugo had crossed his arms and listened as you explained everything. Kirishima was his best friend sure but even he knows there’s a limit to every quirk. “(Y/N).” You lifted your head to look at him. “You’re not a fucking miracle worker.” He adjusted in his seat, propping an arm up on the back of the couch and leaning his head into his fist, you felt him adjust which made you focus for the first time on his close proximity. You went to say something back but nothing came out, you dropped your chin onto your knees and let the tears stream thinking about what he said. You knew he was right, you used your quirk a ton before Kirishima and Sir Night Eye were even brought out, even the medic staff thanked you greatly for keeping Sir Night Eye stable the whole way to the hospital. “This is a part of working as a Hero.” He grumbled.

You stayed quiet for some time before responding, “I know.” You tilted to the side and leaned into the blonde, your tears slowing. Your head and knees leaned into his chest lightly, you could feel him stiffen at the action. You went to sit up properly when you felt him pull you back roughly, you let out a small ‘oof’ at the action. The whole situation bubbles up in your stomach, causing you to giggle through what’s left of your tears. “If you keep being nice to me I might have to call you Sweets instead of Spice.” You snorted out softly. 

You could feel him stifle a chuckle before clicking his tongue, “Shut up!” He growled, “Don’t even think about telling anyone I was soft with you once!”

You chuckle a bit and lift your head to look at him, wiping your face with your shirt. “You really think I’d share such a sappy moment about you? Nuh-uh, this is my memory.” You chuckle a bit and lean back into him, missing the blush that decorated his scowling face. The two of you stayed like that for awhile before he convinced you that you were tired and should go to bed, you groaned and yawned before you begrudgingly agreed. 

The next day Bakugo invited told you to go with him to see Kirishima, you agreed a bit reluctantly. He basically dragged you by the wrist the entire way there, you blushed over the action but didn’t argue. When you arrived Bakugo watched you in a bit of confusion as you were basically on a first name basis with the nurses, and older nurse had pulled you into a big hug that elicited a loud whine from you. They laughed and sent the two of you up to the room where Kirishima was. When you opened up the door you found the redhead was wide awake, he offered a bright smile that just made you cry again. Visible panic set in his face and Bakugo dragged you in by the hand to sit next to him, he explained the situation to his friend and the two let you sob. “I heard about everything you did.” Kirishima said, “I get where you’re coming from but you did a lot (Y/N/N). Like a lot-a lot.” He told Bakugo about what he heard from the nurses and Fatgum about your frenzy around the hospital with all the hero’s and officers who were at the raid.

“I’m sorry for getting upset.” You mumbled, “I just feel stupid. I know what I signed up for when I decided to go into the field of Heroism, but this was just a kick to the gut.” You rubbed your temples a bit, “Honestly, having my arm blown up was better than being this unprepared.” You sputtered, this earned a chuckle from the two. 

“Dumbass, I told you you’re not a miracle worker!” Bakugo spat and dropping his palm on the top of your head, ruffling your hair aggressively. “Now stop being upset!” He hissed, you and Kirishima laughed at his aggressive ‘kindness’. The three of you talked for awhile, you offered to heal your friend more but he declined saying he’d be out soon anyway. You pouted but understood.

When you left Bakugo was still dragging you by your hand, “Thanks.” You said softly, smiling a bit. “That made me feel better.” You squeezed his hand lightly when he grunted at you. Such a weirdo, you wondered what’s gotten into him lately. 

“Shut up.” He shouted, “It’s fucking weird seeing you upset.” 

“Is that your version of saying you like seeing me happy?” You sniggered, this only elicited his grip on your hand to tighten. Your chuckles were cut short and you blushed loudly at the situation, he likes seeing me happy? You internally questioned.

After the trip to the hospital you became way too aware of Bakugo’s presence, anytime you bumped into him or happened to be too close your ears burned with blush. You were finally feeling more like yourself and now you felt like a wrench was thrown into your mind. As far as you could tell Mina was (of course) the first to notice. She pulled you into Jiro’s room, causing you to yelp. “Spill it (Y/N/N)!” She put her hands on her hips while wearing a smug grin. Jiro and Ochaco just stared at you two confused.

“What.” You chocked out.

She wiggles her eyebrows, “You’re all blushy with Bakugo! That’s what!” You almost tackled her at the statement.

“DON’T SAY THAT.” You shouted, the other girls were quick to pick up the situation. Mina grabbed your wrists and the other girls started to poke at you, you squealed loudly from being tickled. 

All the yelling caused concern in the other dorm-mates who knocked on the door. Momo opened it up revealing herself, Toru and Iida. “(L/N) has a crush on someone! We’re trying to get her to confess the details!” Jiro tittered.

“DON’T LISTEN TO HER. SOMEONE HELP ME.” You cried out from being tickled, Momo ushered Iida to leave and the girls entered the room to poke at you. “NO!” You shouted while laughing. 

“Just tell us what happened!” Ochaco teased you finally agreed and huffed for air.

You collapsed on Jiro’s bed, “I was really upset the other night Bakugo basically said he likes seeing me happy and now I’m like- hyperaware of his presence and the things he’s done. I feel like I’m losing my mind!” You whined softly.

“What’s he done?” Momo asked, you sat up and explained what he did after the sticker incident. You absolutely showed them the sticker and told them that he’s the one who’s been making you lunches. Mina explained how you easily calmed him from almost destroying the arcade game, the other girls just gave you the knowing look. 

“Girl.” Mina facepalms, trying her hardest not to laugh. “How are you both are so fucking dense?”

You throw your hands up defensively, “I don’t know!” You yell out when there’s another knock at the door.

Jiro gets up to open it, and speak of the devil. “Boy Wonders here.” This elicits an unintelligible shout from you. 

“Wha- AGH. Can you stop making her yell.” Bakugo glowered at your friend. 

“I don’t think that’s on me, it’s just.… Girl talk.” She retorts with a snicker. He hears you groan in the background and sees a pillow thrown, your face is undeniably blushing. 

He puts his hand on the door and leans in over the girl. “(Y/N), stop yelling.” He says sternly, your face drops into the bed as you wave him off. The girls are laughing at the interaction but he just scowls at them and walks off. 

“Can someone just bury me already, I’m dying.” You hissed from the bed. 

“So, he obviously likes you.” Jiro says walking back.

“Ohmygod. No he doesn’t!” You blurted.

“If he didn’t like you he would’ve told us all to ‘shut the fuck up’ or ‘keep it down’. He made that about you.” Mina jeered at you.

“Bakugo only feels anger!” You laughed, you knew that was a lie but he’d kill you if you said otherwise.

“Maybe he just feels less angry with you?” Ochaco snorted. 

“I’ve never seen him be that considerate to anyone, let alone be as nice as you’ve mentioned.” Momo said.

“You’re in denial because you just noticed your feelings for him.” Toru snickered. 

Mina laughed and grinned deviously, “If you’re so sure why don’t you ask him?” 

“Wh-what? N-NO! I can’t do that!” You stammered, sitting up quickly. “If he liked me he would’ve said something by now! Can any of you imagine him just letting something he wants get away from him?” The girls looked between each other, you were right.

“OH.” Toru piped. “What if we convince him your interested in someone else? If he likes you he’ll do something about it right?” You could hear the implications in her voice. 

You frowned deeply, teetering your head back. “That’s... Fair? I guess, but what if he like, tries to interrogate you guys?” You question, the girls smile and usher you out to make a plan.

Over the next several days the girls in passing talk about you and your crush, making sure it comes up in conversation near you and Bakugo. You always blush whenever they do, making sure you get a good jab or pinch in every time. 

Bakugo is getting increasingly frustrated, you guys hang out all the time. What was this stupid crush about? Why was he angry about it? Why did he want to confront you over it? This frustration has him blowing up over everything. He’s managed to break pens, pencils, cups, plates, a book, and a few other miscellaneous objects. Denki and Sero try to get you to calm him down but you said he hasn’t talked to you or made the problem apparent so there’s nothing you can do. 

“I think this is about your crush.” Denki mentions, which for you was the final straw you snapped, you were so tired of this crush nonsense. 

“Denki.” You smile at him your gaze was dark in frustration, he looks over at you. “If I have to hear anything else about that topic I will flip your skin inside out, rub salt on it and throw vinegar at you.” You smile widens evilly. “Got it?” He just nodded furiously and runs off. 

You drop your head on the counter where you sat at the kitchen bar, groaning loudly. You feel an aggressive tapping on your shoulder seconds later. You snap in their direction with a scowl, it’s Bakugo. Your expression softens when you’re met by an equal glare, “Come with me. Now.” He commanded, you follow him reluctantly. You weren’t paying much mind but you slowly realized you were heading to the boys dorms, more specifically his room.

You’ve been in there dozens of times, why are you so nervous now? You let out a sigh, trying to calm yourself as you made your way into the room. You sat on the edge of his bed, like you had many times before. “What can I do for you, Spice?” You ask, smiling at his glare. 

He started pacing back and forth, he isn’t quite sure why he brought you here. He’s just mad and it has something to do with you. “What is this whole crush nonsense about?”

You froze a bit, “I have a crush on someone and the girls weaseled information out of me.” You rubbed the back of your neck, the statement was pointed, it wasn’t a complete lie. 

He just stared at you in disbelief, all your actions proved you were telling the truth. “Who?” He hissed, less asking and more demanding. You looked down at your feet, you didn’t say anything. “Is it Kirishima?” He snapped, I mean it would make sense with how broken up you were with his injuries. You stared at him, squinting your eyes a bit. Giving him the ‘are you serious?’ expression. “Tell me it’s not Denki? Dudes a fucking idiot.”

You laughed out at this comment, “No, dumbass. I’m not that desperate.” You roll your eyes, you watch the gears turn in his head furiously. It’s not clicking. “For fucks sake, Spice. You really can’t figure it out?”

He scowls at you, you just groan and jump from your seat. You walk up, get in his face and grab him by his shirt collar. You pull his face into your for a kiss. It takes a few seconds for him to grab you by your waist and pull you up, kissing deeper. He bit at you lip as if asking to enter your mouth, you comply easily while you wrap you arms around his neck. Your fingers find his hair when you both pull away for air. “You could’ve just said something, dumbass.”

“Oh, I am not the only dumbass here, Sweets.” You snickered at him. A frustrated blush tints his cheeks at the new nickname. 

“Don’t call me that.” He snaps pulling you in aggressively for another kiss.

You tug at his hair a bit at the kiss, “Only when we’re alone.” You retort between kisses. “God, I don’t know if I should kill the girls or thank them.” You pant out, he sends you a questioning look. You chuckle a bit, “The whole crush nonsense was their tactic to force us to admit we had feelings for each other.” Bakugo’s face burned with frustration but he found that he was far less frustrated after the aggressive make out session. Your phone pinged with a text from Mina.

Mina:

Are you making out or killing each other? Hurry up it’s movie night!

Received 5:59PM 

(Y/N):

Yes

Sent 6:00PM (seen)

(Y/N):

You hurry up we’re already here

Sent 6:00PM (seen)

You removed yourself from his grasp and grabbed his hand. “Come on, let’s pick a movie and pretend fight so they’ll shut up.” He just rolled his eyes and smirked. Not too long after the rest of the Bakusquad (minus Kirishima) made their way to his room, followed by a few of the other curious girls. “You’re so fucking weird why would buy that??”

“It’s a classic! Dumbass, why don’t you have good taste in movies?” He hissed. 

“Ooh, excuse me for having my own opinion!” You snapped, it was so hard not to laugh.

“What have we done..” Mina groans.

You both look at the door, “Shut up!” You both hissed in unison, snapping back to face each other.

“Don’t copy me!” You yelled.

“You’re one to talk!” He snorted. 

Mina ushered the girls off while her and Sero broke up the fight, little do they know it’s totally fake. Mina picks a LOTR movie at random. “Just sit down and let’s enjoy a movie!” She snapped. You both fake hissed at each other as you sat in your normal spots on his bed, a bit closer than normal. 

While the others got caught up in the movie you silently laughed to get it out of your system, Bakugo snorted quietly at the whole situation. 

At some point during the movie when you adjusted your sitting to stretch your legs Bakugo decided to lay across your lap. Not like a normal person would with their head in you lap, but on his side. The side of his abdomen pressed down your thighs as he propped him head up on his hand. Elbow pressed into the mattress, he snicker as you readjusted. You didn’t mind as much as he thought you did, you were focused on the movie. You had absentmindedly started to comb your fingers through his hair, causing him to get tired. The movie was about 4 hours long, which ran into the time you and the blonde typically went to sleep. Bakugo had already fallen asleep across your lap, you had crossed your arms and started dozing off. 

When the movie was over, Mina, Denki and Sero got up to go get ready for bed. When they turned on the light they all stared at the sight before them, you were sat dozed off peacefully against the wall. Your arms crossed head still slightly upright, one leg out and one leg bent with the foot on the opposing knee. While Bakugo was laying on his chest in your lap with one arm under and wrapped around your bent leg with his face buried into your thigh like it was a pillow. Mina was quick to silence her phone and snap a dozen photos, “Should we wake them?” Sero whispers.

Denki shook his head, “You really want to wake the two scariest people we know?” The other two agree and quickly escape the room and turn the light back off.

——

Bakugo woke up in the middle of the night, he was warm and cold in all the wrong places. He rubbed his face into what he quickly realized wasn’t a pillow and shot upright. There you were, totally asleep. Same position as the Bakusquad had left you in, with the softest snores escaping you. He just stared at you in shock before he reaches over for his phone. It’s 2 am, he debates whether to wake you or not. He decided to just scoop you up and lay you down on his bed, there’s no getting out of this one. He gets up to change into his sleepwear and climb back into bed, you were already in comfortable clothing (shorts and a baggy t-shirt). He pulls the covers over you and lays facing the wall with his back to you under the covers. 

The sun flickered against your eyelids and woke you as usual in the morning, but something was different this morning. You felt a warm and heavy weight holding you down, when you opened you eyes you realized what’s wrong. You were still in Bakugo’s room, you felt him adjust in his sleep which forced you to assess the situation. He was big spooning you, in his bed, one arm under your neck and the other arm wrapped around your waist, hand under your shirt tucked beside your bare ribs, lightly snoring into your neck where his face was nuzzled. Holy shit, was all your brain could process. 

You decided to sneakily grab your phone, double check it was on silent mode and snap a few pictures. You now have dirt on him forever. You attempt to pry yourself from his sleeping grip but the second you manage to sit up right his sleeping form curls around your waist. As cute as this is you wanted to go change and get ready for the day, “Hey, Sweets?” You whine at him, he adjusts in his spot. “Bakugo.” You press further, he grumbled but nothing further. You think for a moment and lean down a bit, “Katsuki.” You say in the most seductive voice you can manage, this quickly pries his eyes open. It takes him a solid 30 seconds to realize the position he’s in, how the fuck did this happen?? He doesn’t quite move as he feels his face heat up. “Good morning. Please free me so I can get ready, I’ve been trying to get you up for like 5 minutes.” You yawned out to him, stretching a bit. When he finally let go he just lazily dropped his face in his pillow that now smelt like you, groaning softly.

You looked back at his figure, frustrated noises escaping him as his neck turned red. You just laughed softly before making your way to get your day started. 

Bakugo came down with a few other, later than usual when Mina finally tackled you in the lounge. “You’ll never believe what I got a picture of last night!” She snickered.

You laughed softly, “Oh I have an idea, considering what I got a picture of this morning.” You both laughed at this, “You’re such an ass, why didn’t you wake me up?” 

Mina just shows her pictures triumphantly in response, you ask her to send them to you when you show her the pictures you got this morning. Her jaw looked like it was about to fall off when Bakugo sped over to see. “DELETE THAT.” 

“Absolutely not.” You locked your phone and hid it away. “You’re so cute when your asleep, so peaceful.” You gushed, Mina was actively losing her marbles at the interaction. “Get over it Spice, you can delete them if you beat me in a fight.” You winked at him, the whole speech burned a blush into his face as he stomped off shouting. “He’s so cute when he’s embarrassed.” You snickered to Mina as you both stood up. 

“SHUT UP!” He bellowed out from the kitchen, causing you to laugh harder. 

[allfiredupproject]

PETER BLAKE’S ARTICE IN DORSET LIFE EXPLORES CARTER’S TILES!

Peter Blake’s Article in Dorset Life on Carter’s Tiles! A fantastic read!

Carter’s Tile Manufactory

Peter Blake looks at the origins of the company that would become Poole Pottery

Published in August ’16

The famous ‘Welcome to Poole’ sign at Sandbanks

How many of the millions of commuters and tourists who use the London Underground every year give a thought to their surroundings, in particular the countless tiles which line the tunnels and decorate the stations? Very few, I am sure. If any do, perhaps they would be surprised to know just how many were produced in Dorset, a county not always considered to be in the forefront of manufacturing output. However, a small part of Poole was a major player in the production of tiles and other ceramics used in the building trade for nearly 100 years. This is the story of Jesse Carter and his family, and their impact on Poole from the 1870s onwards. Dorset clay has been used for pottery for thousands of years. Indeed, some of the earliest fragments of fired pottery which have been found locally go back to the Neolithic period, c. 3000 years BC. The clay was mainly used by local potters until the 18th century, when improving transport links led to an increased demand for the fine white plastic ball clay from potteries all over the country. The following century saw a massive building boom, with the associated demand for ceramics for the building trade, such as roof tiles, chimney pots, drainpipes, and floor and decorative tiles. To meet this need, a number of potteries sprang up around Poole.

Lovely detailing on this corner building at Julian Terrace in Southbourne, Bournemouth

One such was the Patent Architectural Pottery Company, founded in Hamworthy in 1854 to supply high-quality goods for the better class of builders. James Walker, an employee of this company, decided to branch out on his own, and around 1860 set up the Walker Patent Encaustic and Mosaic Ornamental Brick and Tile Manufactory on East Quay, Poole. He fairly quickly got into financial difficulties and came to the attention of Jesse Carter, an enterprising businessman who visited Poole often in the course of his work as a partner in an ironmongers’ and builders’ merchants in Weybridge, Surrey. He saw the potential for the ailing business and acquired the site, by now derelict, in 1873, renaming it Carter’s Industrial Tile Manufactory, later to become Carter & Co, with a subsidiary company called Carter Stabler and Adams being established in 1921, which eventually became the worldwide success that was renamed Poole Pottery in 1963. Born in 1830 in Abbots Worthy, the son of a bricklayer, Jesse Carter benefited from the building boom of the 19th century. A journeyman bricklayer in 1851, by 1861 he was a builder employing 49 men and five boys. There are records in Hampshire Record Office of a number of land sales involving Carter in the Winchester area during this period, and it is likely that he did well out of the growing demand for land in an area which was developing rapidly, with a big increase in the demand for housing following the opening of the railway station in 1839. In 1871 he was living in Weybridge, but moved to Poole soon after acquiring the pottery site, living first in Market Street, then later in West End House, a very imposing Georgian residence, which still stands. He began to expand the range of tiles produced at the pottery, alongside the old ‘Carter’s red’ floor tiles, producing more decorative glazed, modelled and painted wall tiles for the growing interior design market. By the middle of the 1880s, the business was thriving, and Jesse took three of his sons, Charles, Owen and Ernest into the company, Ernest sadly dying in 1887 of rheumatic fever at the age of 27. With the involvement of his sons in the business, Jesse started to take a less active part in the day-to-day running of the pottery and moved to West Cliff Road in Bournemouth, Owen taking up residence in West End House.

The Norton Free Library (now a Wetherspoons pub)

Owen was the driving force behind the introduction of decorative pieces and tableware into the repertoire of the pottery, in his capacity as Art and Technical Director. A friend and admirer of William de Morgan, who designed tiles for William Morris, Owen set up a potter’s wheel in a stable at the rear of West End House, where he started experimenting with the development of ornamental wares. In 1912, production of the more straightforward floor and wall tiles was shifted to the Hamworthy sites owned by the pottery, with the East Quay site concentrating on the more artistic end of the spectrum. Owen’s involvement with what became the world famous Poole Pottery ended with his death in 1919. Carter and Co produced their tiles over a period of nearly 100 years, from 1873 until the company was merged into Pilkington Tiles Ltd in 1964. In 1962, production was estimated to be 100,000 tiles per week, with the tunnel ovens on site using more gas than the whole of Salisbury.

The Poole coat of arms on Poole Bridge

Although the ornamental ware received more attention, the plainer output of the pottery was vital to the continuing success of the business. Carter’s supplied many of the tiles which line the London underground tunnels. They also produced relief tiles for the decoration of the stations, for example Bethnal Green, depicting London scenes. Carter’s was also responsible for the platform tiling for the Victoria line. The company produced blue plaques put up by the LCC, and later the GLC, for many years until they stopped making them in 1981. Other bread and butter work was also important, if unglamorous. The supply of glazed bricks and ceramic tiles for commercial premises such as pubs, butchers, cinemas and the like provided a lucrative business, allowing the more decorative side of the pottery to develop and flourish. Fortunately, a number of examples of these ornate frontages and signs still exist in our area, for example: the Branksome Arms, Commercial Road, Bournemouth, which is Grade II listed; the Goat and Tricycle in Westhill Road, Bournemouth (previously the Pembroke Arms); Westbourne Cinema (now Westbourne Club Grand Bingo); Jenkins and Sons, a 1920s butchers and fishmongers at Penn Hill, Parkstone (still called Jenkins and Sons, but now a café bar, with the facade preserved); the Welcome to Poole signs such as the one situated at Sandbanks; the Swan Inn and Poole Arms pub, both in Poole; and the Poole town coats of arms, displayed on Poole Bridge. Other examples can be found fairly close at hand, for example New Milton, Salisbury, Romsey and Portsmouth. Poole Museum would also be a good starting point for anyone interested in finding out more about Carter and Co’s output. For more detailed information, please look at the Facebook page of the Tile Lady, a local expert who provides illustrated talks and undertakes guided tours giving information about noteworthy buildings and tiled features in the Bournemouth and Poole area. If visiting any of these sites, try to do so on a sunny day, just after rain if possible, as the coloured tiles will be seen to their best advantage then, taking on jewel-like qualities.

The front of Jenkin and Son in Parkstone

The Carter family had a long-lasting impact on the life and times of Poole, continuing right up to the modern day. As well as employing people at Carter’s and later Poole Pottery, another of Jesse’s sons, William, took over the ailing Kinson Pottery in 1884, making it a going concern. His son, Herbert Spencer Carter, OBE JP, went on to be Mayor of Poole five times, the first time in 1912 at the age of 32. In 1946, Herbert Carter Secondary School was opened, named in his honour. Still operating, now as Carter Community School, this establishment has educated many thousands of Poole’s children. Poole Pottery has attracted well-deserved fame for the innovative design and use of colour in its ceramics, spreading the name of Poole throughout the world and attracting countless visitors to its premises. Although the bulk of the manufacturing is now carried out at Middleport pottery in Staffordshire, new designs are still created, fired and painted in the Studio Pottery on Poole Quay, continuing the tradition going back over a century.

The Swan Inn in Poole

Jesse Carter died in 1927 at the grand old age of 96. Little can he have thought when he first saw a derelict and failing pottery in 1873, that the company he founded would have such a profound effect not only on his own family, but on the town of Poole as well. www.poolepottery.co.uk

[raendown]

I was bribed in to this by @rookie-d and @sleepysenseis and I regret nothing. Show some love to Rookie’s art for this au as well!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 1893 Rated: G Summary: Owning and running a bakery with his husband isn't exactly where he thought life would take him but Tobirama wouldn't trade this for the world.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Patissier-pation Award

The familiar chime of a bell greeted him first as he walked through the front door, eyes down to inspect the mail he had gathered on his way in. Mostly junk, a couple of bills, and a letter that he would bet his entire bank account had come from Hashirama. He would know those graceless spiky letters anywhere. Off on some nature retreat for the past month, there was little doubt this letter would be filled with the same rambling nonsense as the last one had been, lengthy descriptions of the woman he had apparently fallen in love with at first sight. 

Under the hum of halogen lights and the ever present smell of baked goods Tobirama could hear a slight groaning sound that made him smile. Instead of going to look for the source right away he continued to flip through the mail until he had sorted junk from bills, slipping behind the till counter to put everything in its right place. Running their own shop was hard work some days but always worth it in the end. While he was there he tidied a few receipts from the day before and used a nearby rag to wipe off a bit of icing probably smeared around by a customer’s child. Only when he was satisfied that everything was in order did he finally turn to look at the plush couch set just a little ways apart from the rest of the seating area. During peak hours the various armchairs and stools were usually filled with people taking a few minutes to enjoy the treats they had just purchased. 

Since right now was not peak hours the only person to be found was Madara, stretched out across the couch that Tobirama had quietly purchased just for moments like these. A fond smile touched his lips as he watched his favorite idiot rub at a full belly with furrowed brows. 

“How many of those tarts actually made it on to the shelves?” Tobirama called out to him with a lightly scolding tone. 

“Most of them!” Madara shot back. Then he groaned again while both hands paused to delicately cup his stomach. “I could have sworn I only ate a few. Just to taste test. Quality checking is important!” 

“I see.”

The argument might have been a bit more believable if Madara didn’t use the same one every time he overindulged in his own products. He was the one who initially came up with the idea for the two of them to open their own bakery and Tobirama supposed he should have known then that doing so would lead to regular episodes like this one. His husband was an amazing patissier but he was also his own biggest fan. Or his stomach was, at least, and Madara had never been known for denying whatever his stomach wanted. 

“Did you by any chance happen to find time to finish the Sarutobi order before you took your little snack break?” 

“Of course I did,”’ Madara huffed. Generously sacrificing one hand for a moment, he pointed imperiously towards the order counter where there indeed were three boxes with the shop logo printed on the front stacked neatly together and tied with ribbon. Inside there would be a dozen cupcakes each with, if Tobirama was remembering currently, blue icing and rainbow sprinkles arranged to spell out the recipient’s name. A fairly simple order. He wasn’t surprised Madara had finished the whole thing while he was gone, though he was surprised there had been enough time left over to gorge on the tarts he’d put in the oven before he left. 

Since he trusted his partner Tobirama didn’t offer the insult of going to check the order. Instead he mentally checked it off his list of things to do before heading in to the back to go wash his hands. There was still another order he needed to get a start on, although most of it would have to be finished tomorrow. He was fairly sure they wouldn’t have enough icing until their shipment arrived the next morning. 

A quick peek in to the fridge on his way by confirmed his suspicions. Although they still had a tub each of pink and white, yellow was running low and the red was all but entirely gone. If he tried to decorate anything he might have enough to use red for a couple of accents but certainly not enough to cover several dozen cookies in the pattern the order called for. It was a good thing all this wasn’t due to be picked up until late tomorrow. 

Hands clean, Tobirama tied an apron around his middle and began pulling out the ingredients necessary for making his specialty gingerbread, one of the quickest selling items on their menu every winter. When he was younger he never would have believed that life would take him here. As a child he’d mostly been obsessed with science and little else. Most of his career dreams had centered around NASA or biochemical research, plans for changing the world with his magnificent discoveries. Now he co-owned a bakery with his husband and spent most of his days rolling dough or decorating cakes, all in between manning the till and watching children’s faces light up as they picked out which treat they wanted to take home. It was hardly the auspicious career he’d always imagined but it was a good life, full and happy, one that he wouldn’t trade for anything. Not even for the trips to outer space he used to dream about. 

So lost in his own musings was he that it felt as though he’d only just begun mixing the dough when he looked down and found row upon row of perfectly shaped cookies all laid out before him. Some were made to look like people, some like trees, and others still were laid out in thick flat sheets with which he would later build a house. Gingerbread was always quite fun to work with. A quick count told him that he already had everything he needed as well as a couple of spares in case one or two of them burnt in the oven yet there was still just a bit of dough left over.

With a whimsical smile he reached for his tools again and began to shape a new pair of cookies.

Baking gingerbread didn’t take all that long, almost as much time as it took for them to cool once they were back out of the oven, and as he packaged everything to keep it safe for tomorrow he set his final two creations aside. It may have been a whim but he’d never sent anything out of this kitchen that hadn’t received his full effort and he wasn’t about to now. There was, after all, just enough red icing left - not to mention plenty of black. 

Madara was still draped across the couch in the front shop when Tobirama came out to check on him, one of their fancier order boxes in hand. The bellyache appeared to have passed and instead pulled the man down in to a light food coma. Long dark lashes fluttered against pale cheeks when Tobirama bent to stroke one of them, rousing his husband from what looked to a very peaceful if possibly undeserved nap. 

“Mnng? I wasn’t asleep.”

“Your snoring tells another story.” 

“T-that wasn’t snoring! I was just humming a song under my breath!” 

Lifting one eyebrow, Tobirama shook his head. “Mhm, very convincing.” 

“Shut up! What’s that? I didn’t think we had anything else going out today. Did I forget something?” Madara frowned and his eyes grew distant as he went over their orders for the week in his head. 

Rather than let him suffer Tobirama simply placed the box in his lap. 

“You forgot to greet me properly when I came back from running errands but I’ll forgive you for that just this once. These are for you, if you’ve still got room in your belly.” 

“Oh?” 

Always intrigued by the promise of more sweets, Madara plucked at the edge of the box to pull the tab keeping it closed out of its slot. He lifted the lid with an almost childish expression of anticipation that morphed in to a graceless full-mouthed gawk when he spotted the gift inside. Much to Tobirama’s horror, he caught sight of what looked to be tears gathering in his husband’s eye.

“Is that...us?” 

“Yes it is.”

“We’re holding hands. And you gave yourself a little fur collar just like your favorite jacket!” 

Tobirama rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck. He really liked that jacket. “A little extra detail never hurt anyone,” he murmured as though in protest. 

He was mortified to see Madara cradle the cookies in one palm so he could use his other hand to gently stroke the little red icing lines marking where Tobirama had tattooed his own face during a rebellious youth. The number of times Madara had given those marks the same gentle attention were uncountable and it never failed to draw a little color in to his cheeks, embarrassed that his heart could be so softened by such a simple gesture. 

“Just eat them and go back to moaning about your belly,” he grumbled even as he leaned in to the touch. Madara huffed at him in amusement. 

“What brought this on, hm? I feel like I’m being rewarded for something.” 

“It was a whim and nothing more.” 

Something about that seemed the right thing to say as Madara puffed up like he’d been complimented, as though being gifted cookies made out of leftover dough were the greatest gesture of love. 

“Thinking about me, were you?” his husband asked with a sly undertone. 

“I am always thinking of you,” Tobirama admitted. It was true so he saw no reason to deny it. 

Madara blinked once. “Oh. Well...I’m always thinking of you too. So there!” 

Both of them blushing and flustered, two silly little gingerbread men still held ever so carefully in one of Madara’s palms, Tobirama was eternally grateful there were no customers in the shop to witness the disgustingly sweet scene they were surely making. With a rough clearing of his throat he pulled away and cast his eyes anywhere else in the room. 

“Right,” he said gruffly, “eat your cookies. I’m going to go take inventory so we can call in another supply order tomorrow.” Spinning on his heel relieved him of the sight of his beloved husband cradling such precious if silly gifts but it did not spare him the sound of a quiet voice trailing after his rapid footsteps. 

“I love you.” 

Tobirama wrinkled his nose against the wave of mushy feelings in his chest until the urge to turn around and throw himself down on the couch with his partner had faded. He stepped out with purpose, with dignity, with every intention of going to make himself useful for the rest of the afternoon. But he did pause in the doorway to the kitchen long enough to turn his head to one side. 

“Love you too,” he murmured. 

It felt like capitulation but, then, Madara had already won his heart many years before and the life they’d built together would always be sweeter than any treat he could bake for himself. 

[georgemackayhey]

Listen To The Music

"Will you write George with an s/o who sings and writes music?"

Yooo surprise day off! I've finally been able to finish this rec and start work on some others. Enjoy!

w/c: 1k.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Immersed in a sea of red light slowly turning purple, still you saw the blue of his eyes. He was walking toward you to the gentle beat of the song. You stood stone still, waiting for his form to fade with the pitch of the distant piano chord but the song wasn't over and he was floating closer until he was right there.

Your body took over, forcing words into the microphone as your mind stalled, fixated on the prettiest man you'd ever seen. While girls swayed to the swells of your song, and their boyfriends threw their heads back in laughter, the man with sharp blue eyes stood and stared.

He wasn't watching you, not really. His eyes stayed locked softly on yours while your brain caught up and alerted you to sing right to him. His eyes never raked up and down your figure, like you dreamed they might. He just kept on looking at your despite our best efforts to put on a show.

That was your job, sure. You knew better than anyhow how to get lost in the music, coming up for air in between tracks. This was your job. This was your dream, and the man who appeared out of nowhere on your second to last number stayed when you kicked into your last song. And even though he kept his eyes on you, it was still your deepest desire to give him a show worth watching.

When you opened your eyes again to the fading instruments and cheers from drunken audience members, the man of your dreams wasn't there anymore.

"We're gonna take a quick break, don't go anywhere!" You called into the microphone, crossing your fingers that a certain someone was someplace close enough to hear.

As you dashed from the stage, you halfheartedly thanked some of your friends for showing up before scurrying to the bar. You faked desperation for a shot of whiskey while scanning the crowd from a new perspective. There were plenty of pretty people with nice teeth and hair you could have run your fingers through, but none of them were the guy who caught your fancy.

You took your shot of whiskey, trading the barkeep a wink as a promise to close your tab later, and kept moving. This time, to the restrooms. You could sweep your gaze past patrons on your way and hope to run into the guy with those bright blue eyes. But you didn't, so you pretended to use the restroom and hurried backstage to grab your coat, and dash outside.

Across from the bar you spent most of your time singing in, there was a gas station. Both businesses were teeming with crowds on nights like these. This was both a comforting and daunting fact now. Maybe your man would be lost in that crowd, but what if you failed to pick him out?

You meandered down the block through hoards of friends sharing a smoke and some regulars who recognized and greeted you. But none of them was the guy you were so hopelessly longing to find. So after holding out the last bit of hope on your mossy back to the side door, you slumped against the brick of the building when someone called your name.

One of your band members had slipped out for a smoke and went straight into complaining about how the sound guy was always too sloshed to manage your second act. You listened, knowing you needed too, but felt a weight lift off your shoulders when he was whisked away by his lover.

Right when you got the gumption to peel yourself from the brick wall and give up, there was a warmth at your side.

"I really like your voice."

It was him. It was the man with starry blue eyes and perfectly tousled hair, the man you'd been singing too. The guy you'd been looking for had shown up unexpectedly all over again. You felt a bit embarrassed for how wide your smile grew, already smitten.

"Thank you." You nodded, feeling proud to have entranced him even just a little, enough to score a comment from those perfectly pouty lips.

"I'm sure you get that a lot. B-but I really do." The guy brought a hand to the back of his neck and the skin around his eyes crinkled as he went on talking right to you.

"Well comin' from you, it means a lot. I watched you in the crowd." You spoke up. Your body was on autopilot again, speaking while your mind stalled. You'd been so desperate to find him but hadn't thought of what to say once you had.

"I wasn't going to go out tonight," The guy shrugged, peering over his shoulder like he might have been in trouble. "early day tomorrow. But I'm glad I ended up here. You.. just-"

The guy seemed to flounder, and you couldn't help but let out a nervous giggle.

"I came out here looking for you, ya know?" You'd gotten this far, and you hoped that your statement might align with where his had left off.

"I was meant to take a mate home, but I called him a cab. I wanted to stick around and for your second set."

And then there was no point in biting back your smile. You asked for the handsome man's name. George, he said, confident in his identity, but seemingly as surprised as you were by the course of the evening's events.

You grabbed George by the hand and bought him a drink at the bar. You left him there alone at a stool, watching him from your risen stage.

That's how it all started. George stayed through your second set and showed up to everyone after that weekend. He was never shy about slinking his way right to the front, and you were never ashamed to keep your eyes on his, except when you closed them overcome with the music you sang.

When George started leaving the bar to follow you home, the music seemed to come alive in an all-new way. You were always humming new melodies and thinking up new lyrics that couldn't have possibly been about anyone but George. The way he looked at you, the things he said and how he said them. You could never believe he was real, and the feeling that bloomed in your chest when he was in your line of sight was unparalleled by any other form of art.

Sometimes, all you were left with was the music that reminded you of him, while he was off making something of his own.

When he was home, you would help him practice his lines and auditions.

"You can find the music in everything, huh?" George remarked, dazzled by how you helped him find the beat of a certain script that he'd been struggling to get into the swing of.

George liked the way you found music in everything, calling you August Rush when your ideas caught him off guard. You always laughed and asked him what it was like to see the world through movies. George liked your voice, comparing it to things like honey and church bells and stormy nights. You always blushed and buried your face in his shoulder, thankful for the fact you were able to keep him so close. He was something worth singing about.

The songs you wrote for and about him were little safe havens you ran back to when he was away. But when he finally made his way back, you took rare bouts of time to turn down the volume in your head and sink into George's side. He'd pick out his favorite movies and point out his favorite bits, explaining how they must have been made and thought up. Even during his rambling through films, you found yourself tearing up at the end with an all-new appreciation for the art.

"Amazing. We just watched a comedy, you know?" George lightly chuckled, moving a bit of hair behind your ear as you dabbed your eyes.

"I can't help it!" You jabbed his side with a small laugh. "I just get so lost in the story, especially when you dissect the plot the way you do." You pointed a finger to George who went on smiling as you blamed him.

George went on saying something about how he was always able to separate the story and admire the way each film was made, keeping an eye peeled for tricks of light and perfectly delivered lines, he saw the beauty of its making.

You wished you were better at doing that. You were always planting yourself in the middle of the plots, like how you lost yourself in a song, becoming a part of it all. You asked how George stopped himself from getting lost in a roll. He said he didn't quite know.

And then he left again for six months. You stayed behind with a stack of songs and a few new ones about how lonely it was to be in love, sometimes, but still grateful to have been at all.

When George came back home from shooting his newest war drama, something had changed. He never spoke directly about it, and you never directly asked. But George talked you into being his date at the premiere, and you wondered how you'd gotten lucky enough to say yes.

That night you sat by Georges's side in between castmates who'd become like family, and watched your man act his heart out. But it felt like more than that, you didn't feel like you were watching George play a character, you felt like you were watching him. And when the film ended with his eyes closing, you turned to see George had been crying.

He never let go of your hand from that moment on for the rest of the evening. Somewhere in the quiet night between the premier and the afterparty, when you stopped for a breath of fresh air, you felt yourself float deeper into loving him. You promised George, unprompted, that you'd always be there for him just like he'd been for you through all the gigs and rainy days in between.

And when you went back to the bar, to the place you met; mixed in the sea of purples that faded into green, you could still see the blue of his eyes through changing colors- even when they were closed so he could better listen to the music.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Requests are open ♡

[tiliamericana]

Muay Thai: 1.04

Read From Start | Read Ahead | Home Site

It was amazing just how quickly Nairi got used to waking up and finding texts from Cherry waiting for her.

Cherry seemed to be up and on at all hours of the day; she was awake in the morning well before Nairi’s eleven o’clock alarm, but also worked well into the small hours of the night and put in long hours at the day job. Nairi had managed to ascertain that it had something to do with art—Cherry had strong opinions on grades of paper (something about absorbency), colour theory (people were stupid), watercolours (they were bad), and on the one occasion she’d come upstairs had informed Nairi that her walls were driving her mad and that she’d be painting something to stop the encroaching insanity.

When she wasn’t inserting herself into Nairi’s life she was sending Nairi pictures and selfies with her other friends; grad students with brightly coloured hair, a grinning bartender showing off his flair, baking with a short woman in glasses. And now this:

C: youre closed on tues y/y?? C: which means yourf free tonight right?

Nairi sent her back a quick “yes” and set her phone down before pulling herself out of bed to face the day. Not opening the dojo meant she was able to take a little longer with her morning, but she still preferred to do her prayers before she had to think about anything else, and Cherry was prone to showing up if Nairi indicated she had free time. Which she apparently had a lot more of than she realised.

Maybe she should look for a new style to start training in. This was the first time she hadn’t been focused on a new one since she… Well, for a while.

When she came back upstairs her phone was lit up again. Maybe Cherry had ideas about lunch? It would mean she’d have a reason to go out and eat something.

C: great!! C: dn you wanna come out tonight?? dinner C: on me if i need to sweeten it ;) edies just moved back fr work and if its just me her and nick im go6na die from them being old folks who disapprove all night C: also i keep talking about you at nick and he wants to meet you lol

Nairi had initially assumed ‘Nick’ was Cherry’s father, just based on the way she talked about him. But then Cherry had mentioned her father later, just calling him ‘Dad’, so maybe he wasn’t? Either that, or she was very discreet about their being gay. Or she just went back and forth between ‘Dad’ and ‘Nick’ arbitrarily. ‘Edie’ on the other hand was a name Cherry had mentioned in passing once and then never again, so Nairi had concluded she was one of the colourful grad students. Apparently not.

She sent back a “sure”, and then after a moment, asked for a place and time.

C: yay!! thank you!! C: its this fckn italian place edie loves but theres a ok bar so not all bad C: edies fatal allergic to being on time but nickll be 7 minutes early

The next message was a sticker, a little pair of eyes rolling across her phone screen when she opened it.

C: meet at 7? C: i checked the menu has good veg C: pasta heavy but good :p

Nairi smiled a little at that and sent her another “yes”. After a moment she added a “thank you”. Cherry sent her back three hearts, and Nairi put her phone down to go and get some lunch.

She didn’t think anything of it until she showed up at the restaurant. Cherry had driven and was already parked, leaning against the side of her obnoxious little two door to wait. It was bright red and nearly vintage, and she’d obviously put a lot of care into it. Nairi had half expected vanity plates, but they were a normal registration.

Nairi waved as she approached and Cherry visibly perked up with a wide, glossy smile, waving back. Cherry had dressed up a little nicer—dark skinny jeans and a pretty sleeveless shirt with a modest v-neck. The heavy Docs were gone, traded for heeled ankle boots, and she had delicate pearl bob earrings to match her golden cross. Not a paint spatter in sight.

“Hi,” she said as Nairi drew to a halt just out of arm’s reach. “Didn’t we pick an interesting night to go out?”

“We sure did,” said Nairi, her brow furrowing as she looked past Cherry to the road between them and the restaurant. “What the hell is going on?”

The stretch of asphalt was filled with a flock of young adults, all of them shirtless, yelling along together in an incomprehensible chant as they ran up and down between two unmarked points on the road. They were arguably being directed; a young woman with a reflective coat and a manic grin, holding a megaphone in one hand and an airhorn in the other, was standing on a shopping cart in the middle. Standing next to her on the ground, was another woman in reflective orange with a clipboard.

Judging by the amount of honking and the lack of anything resembling city signage, this wasn’t an official event.

Cherry glanced down at her phone as one of the women held up the airhorn to the megaphone. Charitably she waited for Nairi’s ears to stop ringing before she spoke. “Flo did a round on the facebook pages—apparently it’s some dorm flash mob from a hall at her college.”

“Which one’s Flo? Did she have the blue hair?” asked Nairi as she lowered her hands from her head and gladly pulled her attention away from a panting eighteen-year-old who had something pink painted on his heaving chest.

“Nah that’s Mason, he’s finishing up his sociology honours. Flo has the green hair, she’s doing her psych PhD,” said Cherry, craning her neck to look around Nairi. “Nick’s here! Right on time, like I said.”

She started waving, and Nairi turned to see the tallest man she’d ever seen waving back across at them. She raised an eyebrow, the muscles in her forearms tensing, and she tried not to feel too uneasy about it.

Cherry hummed happily, picking herself up from where she was leaning on the car door and reaching in through the open window to grab a thin cardigan from the seat. “Oh, and just a heads up,” she said casually, “Nick like, really hates it when people call me Cherry, it’ll probably be better if you just use my real name in front of him.”

Nairi opened her mouth to remind her that she’d never actually gotten around to saying what the was exactly, but Cherry was already halfway across the lot towards the man. “Nick!” she called out as she approached, closing the distance and leaning up on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

He said something to her, pausing to hug her back before continuing over to Nairi. He drew to a halt next to her while Cherry returned to perching against her car. “You must be Nairi,” he said, voice alarmingly deep, hand outstretched. “Linden’s told me so much about you.”

Nairi took his hand and shook it once before dropping it, resisting the urge to take a step back once she’d done so. “Likewise. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Nicholas was close to seven feet tall and probably in his late fifties or very early sixties if she was any judge. His hair had landed firmly in the ‘grey’ zone just past salt-and-pepper, though he’d managed to keep rather a lot of it, close cropped in a very standard short back and sides. He had broad shoulders and a carefully ironed shirt that looked worn but cared for. He had a firm grip, muscle swelling ever so slightly in the lines of his shirt, and there was a furrow in his brow that made him look deeply concerned about something.

Though, from what she’d learned being friends with Cherry—Linden—if she were an older adult in her life she’d probably be deeply concerned as well. Or maybe it was the students.

“Do either of you know what’s going on here?” he asked after a moment, nodding at the crowd.

“Youthful hijinks keeping us from our dinner,” said Linden, grinning easily. She’d released some of the tension in her shoulders since Nicholas’s arrival, but at the same time seemed a little more on edge, like she was anticipating something. She took a deep, exaggerated breath, and pushed her hands into her jean pockets. “Do you know what that smell is?”

Nairi exchanged a faintly puzzled look with Nicholas, though his looked a little more exasperated. “Cheap beer?” she tried.

Linden sniggered. “Yeah, we called it ‘Eau de Freshie’ when I was in school,” she said, tossing her head to give the students behind them a speculative, almost mean look. They were still yelling enthusiastically, and she gestured at them. “It’s no longer funny, anyway. How many of these assholes do you reckon I have to beat up to let us get through?”

“I’m sure it doesn’t need to come to that,” said Nairi, her mouth twitching a little at the side.

Nicholas shot her a grateful look. “From the looks of things someone has already called the police, I’m sure they’ll be dispersed presently,” he said with a nod towards a pissed off looking woman standing by the crosswalk, phone jammed up against her ear.

“The cops always take fucking forever,” complained Linden, running a hand through her hair, foot tapping impatiently. “Come on Nick, you actually like, made a reservation and now we’re gonna miss it.”

“Linden I’m reasonably certain the staff can see what’s happening from where they’re standing,” said Nicholas, irritation creeping into his tone. “A little patience will not kill you, please do not start a fistfight with a teenager.”

Linden grinned at him, stretching her arms out in front of her chest. “I’m like, pretty certain the one with the airhorn is at least twenty.”

“Linden.”

“Well, I mean,” said Nairi speculatively, eyeing the students. “All you really have to do is be flashier than them.”

One of the running students fell out of pitch with their friends, and someone complained in her peripheral. A car door slammed and there was the crunch of footsteps on gravel followed by a huff as someone else joined the spectators. Linden turned her grin back to Nairi. “Yeah? You got an idea?”

“Yeah,” said Nairi, stepping up to Linden and reaching past her into the car window.

The other items she wanted were on the front seat, and Linden’s grin only widened as Nairi pulled them out. The baseball bat was wooden and well used, with a long crack threatening to split it clean open and letter stickers in the world’s ugliest font spelling ‘LINDE’ down the length. There was a clean spot amongst the built-up grime under the ‘E’. The bottle of lighter fluid was about half full, and Nairi held the bat out in front of her to squirt the contents over it liberally, splattering the asphalt in front of them as she did so.

She reached around Linden, extending the same familiarity she’d been receiving from her for the last two weeks, and pulled the lighter out of her back pocket.

The bat lit up easily and Nairi twisted it around to hold it upright, offering it to Linden. Linden looked at her, wide eyed, and took the bat. She placed her other hand on Nairi’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. “You get me,” she said with warmth, before throwing her head back and cackling loudly, sprinting towards the crowd of students with the bat raised over her head.

Nicholas, next to her, made a faint, strangled noise. Behind her was a scoff and a loud voice. “Well. I’m guessing you must be Nairi.”

She turned and came face to face with an older woman in a rumpled men’s dress shirt and glasses who was glaring at her. She had red hair, natural as opposed to Linden’s box dye, and it was plaited out of the way to keep her tired face clear. Grey blue eyes stared down Nairi under her stern brow, and she uncrossed her arms to step forward into Nairi’s personal space. She was stocky and only a little shorter, barely having to raise her chin. “Just for reference,” she said, tone acerbic, “If I hear a single piece of news about young adult burn victims in the local urgent care facilities tomorrow? I will track you down and hold you personally responsible.”

She stepped away without waiting for an answer, glare sliding over to Nicholas. “You’re so right, Nicholas, I can see how much of a model presence she is,” she said in a way that even Nairi could read the sarcasm. “You remain a uniquely terrible judge of character.”

She strode across the street in the wake of Linden’s chaos. The students had mostly scattered with cheers and yells, and the girl with the megaphone was doubled over laughing in her shopping cart.

Nicholas was very slowly turning red, staring at Nairi with an unreadable expression. She coughed slightly and spun on one foot to follow the others across the street, trying to swallow her irritation at their judgement.

[matpisound]

matpi’s 2020 top ten

With this crazy year finally being thrown to the wolves, I thought I’d share some of my favorite songs. Usually I rank songs based on my mood, but I thought long and hard about this list to make it as accurate to my tastes as possible. In addition to the musical elements, I’ve also considered my personal experience with each song. With that said, get ready for a list that defines the phrase, “all over the place.”

10. ”約束” - Roselia

Translating to “Promise,” this Roselia song rounds out the list with its dynamic highs and lows and metric complexities. Combine that with Roselia’s signature sound and you have yourself a straight up banger. There are a lot of feel changes, with sections of 3 against 4 polymeter, steady rock groves, and a double time chorus, and this keeps the song interesting and super fun to listen to. Not to mention the powerful lead vocals, courtesy of Yukina Minato, played by the insanely talented Aina Aiba, as well as the occasional trading of vocal lines with bassist Lisa Imai, voiced by Yuki Nakashima, allow the song to really shine.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQS0LZfXRCs&list=OLAK5uy_l6KyKKWX1j8vHY-PjK6yJHkIZpOV0WMrE

9. “Avant-garde HISTORY” - Roselia

Going up the list now we have another Roselia song. This song is marked by its progressive rock influence in the intro, with a lack of adherence to a single key or time signature, all while remaining an epic intro to the majestic 6/8 rock ballad that follows. Combining rock with orchestral elements is a recipe for greatness, and Roselia really pulled through here. The lead vocals are supported by a chorus of the other members in a really significant way in this song, contributing even more to the sheer glory that it exudes. Add in some huge drum fills and epic buildups between sections, and it creates this absolute work of art.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nakW_Ziciik&list=OLAK5uy_lImYujueVzq7DDMrRc2TX8qnp1ZzMlHKM&index=6

8. “Ride” - Samuel R. Hazo

No, this is not the twenty one pilots song, nor is it a cover. It’s a wind ensemble piece chock full of the good stuff. Spicy harmonies, giant fanfares, fast runs, solos, time signature changes, heavy yet tasteful use of percussion, what’s not to love? I really wanna play this in band one day, because aside from being fun to listen to, it’s a real challenge to play, especially with a large ensemble. Wind ensemble pieces in general are really cool because they are light-years ahead of most modern music in terms of dynamic contrast, and "Ride” has a ton of it.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=au4geHy_S_0

7. “Amaryllis” -  Shinedown

I honestly don’t know how to describe why I like this song so much; I just do. It’s a really nice song. The amaryllis as a flower is extremely beautiful, sporting vivid reds and pinks in its petals, and that imagery really shone through with its lyrics and 6/8 ballad feel. I’d like to mention the key signature as well. The key of D♭ just feels like a beautiful key signature, and here that beauty was thoroughly reflected.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ixltBz9IENw

6. “FIRE BIRD” - Roselia

Back again with another Roselia song. First of all, this song is great because of the story of the Phoenix. I always thought an immortal bird of fire rising from the ashes was such a glorious thing, and this song captures the essence of this tale perfectly. A quiet start with just piano and vocals gives way to a ginormous sounding intro as all the band members sing as a choir, which then leads into a crazy double-time groove which persists throughout the song. Combine that with Roselia’s sound and you get a triumphant anthem that’s sure to energize anyone and anything.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_F7l7n_oP8&list=OLAK5uy_lImYujueVzq7DDMrRc2TX8qnp1ZzMlHKM&index=4

and here’s a live version because the visuals are IMMACULATE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5AwP7S9f3A8

5. “Guilty All The Same” - Linkin Park

Off of one of the greatest rock albums in my opinion, “Guilty All The Same” is nothing short of a masterpiece. A nearly 6-minute song, and it’s never boring for a second. The unique drum grooves and use of 3 against 4 polymeter are what make this song so damn interesting to listen to, and lead singer, Chester Bennington’s, vocals are nothing short of spectacular. Rakim’s verse in the bridge combined with the sick guitar riff and the drums backing them up makes it one of the best combinations of rock and rap that I’ve heard.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cEaEdLQbAFM

4. “LOUDER” - Roselia

This being one of the first Roselia songs I’ve listened to, it has a really special place in my heart. But musically, it’s super awesome too. At a blistering 195 BPM, it’s one of the fastest songs on here, meaning it’s also super fun to play on the drums. It also changes keys between the verses and choruses from D minor to D major and back. And of course, who could forget lead vocalist Yukina Minato guiding the song through her soaring melodic lines. All in all, it’s a great song that managed to top my Spotify Wrapped.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wYSXZQ2b1-c

Now before we get into our top 3, let’s look at some honorable mentions:

“A DECLARATION OF ×××” - RAISE A SUILEN: A song inciting revolution, this combination of rock and EDM is a straight up vibe. We also get some djent as a bonus! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=713nCe8LLa0

“DIVE!” - Setsuna Yuki: Rock music in the world of anime idols is a foreign concept, and to me it’s a welcome one. It seems, however, that others disagree... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HXXxW8hEF3o

“Neo-Aspect” - Roselia: I swear this is the last Roselia song, but it was way too good not to include here. A powerful song filled to the brim with expression. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=snp_DT9EqiQ

“カレンデュラ“ - RONDO: “Calendula” for those who can’t read Japanese, this heavy song carries a lot of weight in it’s lyrics as well. Overall a really epic song. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZRnaYwx2fH4

“Daybreaker” - Waterflame: Made fairly recently by a producer who made music that was a huge part of my childhood, this song just vibes so fucking hard. Fun fact: it was released on my birthday! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uLomCDE7E50

3. “Transcendent Journey” - Rossano Galante

Now we’re talking about the true bangers of my music taste. I love Galante’s music because it’s always so dynamic always with super melodious lead parts. This piece is no different in that sense. It really feels like a journey. Fast woodwind runs supporting soaring brass lines, quiet woodwind melodies, blazing fanfares, and varied tempo make this piece of music really feel like a spiritual journey. There’s so much about this piece that I just can’t put into words so you just have to listen for yourself.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZuMi2z2F3io

2. “Nostalgia” - Rossano Galante

Another wind ensemble piece making the top 3? Well, aside from being a beautiful piece musically, it brings a lot of good memories for me personally as well. We played this for my band’s spring concert when I was in 8th grade. As 8th graders, our ensemble included the high school band students as well, and that was the year one of my favorite seniors was graduating. He was such a big role model for me, and the entire concert was extremely emotional. This was my favorite piece we had programmed that night, and it’s made its way into my favorite songs of all time.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qaq_WKsatg

1. “The Catalyst” - Linkin Park

This was one of those songs. You know those songs that you fall in love with as soon as you hear it for the first time? Yeah, this was that. With every listen, I only liked it more and more, and it crawled its way to the top. It starts off soft, but it just keeps building. Everything builds and builds and becomes increasingly chaotic until it all collapses in the second half of the song. From there, the repeated lyrics “Lift me up, let me go” carry this song to its epic finale, in which we feel the culmination of all that chaos from earlier. Not only does the song work so well as a standalone track, its use as the penultimate track on “A Thousand Suns” (my favorite album of all time) serves as the final climax before resolving the intricate story weaved by the album. This is a perfect song if I have ever heard one.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3sBjZBn3DQU

Well, folks, there you have it. A playlist of the best songs that got me through this forsaken year and will hopefully empower the next. I wish you all a better and happy 2021, and I’ll catch you at the double barline!

[meganshinsou-tm]

Crimson|Ink. (m)

↳ chapter five: murderers are getting prettier every day

❧ genre:  tattoo-shop/hitmen au | tattoo artist/hitman kirishima 

❧ fic warning: major character(s) death; happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: blood, violence, torture, screaming/yelling

❧ chapter song: Murderers Are Getting Prettier Every Day by Marilyn Manson

♬crimson|ink playlist | ♧ character profiles | artist credit

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

"Oh, so you're also art dealers?"

Shouto nodded, "Yes. Mostly me and Izuku here handle the big deals and trades, we've pretty much covered every inch of Japan now. Even a few states in America. It was my father's business before it was passed onto me. I've gathered this crew of artists throughout my years and asked each and every one of them to be a part of it with me. All of us have some sort of connection with each other, be it art or our upbringing."

You pursed your lips and nodded. It made sense you guessed, why not open a tattoo shop on the side to always have a steady flow of business. Your brow quirked when you realized that this also meant that all these men had to be filthy rich. Art dealers and the market for such items was a very lavish and expensive market, most pieces just started out at the millions. It being a shared business among them all, there was no doubt they each got some sort of commission, especially since Bakugou, Sero and Kirishima ran this tattoo shop while Shouto and Deku were on business trips.

"So, you're all kind of like this big art mafia huh?"

Izuku choked on his tea, causing you to whip your head in his direction and immediately locate some napkins from one of the counters before going back to sit by his side. You gently wiped his lips dry as you softly pat his back.

"Sorry, that was just uh – funny," Izuku replied with a cough.

You smirked and ruffled his green hair after handing over the napkins and crossed your leg to look at Shouto. He rose a brow towards you and walked from his spot on the wall and towards the rolling stool that sat by his tattoo chair. His foot kicked it your way and he followed it, you watched the angelic man lower and sit on the black cushion before you. Once Shouto's heterochromatic eyes looked up to meet yours, you felt your heart stop briefly from how powerful they were but you still managed a soft smile.

"I like to refer to us as a 'family'. We all watch after and take care of each other, everyone has their place and their role in this shop, even you."

You placed your hand to your chest, motioning to yourself and chuckled. 

"Me? I've only been here a month Shouto, I just run errands, clean, make appointments and bring some femininity to the place. I don't place works of art onto people's skin, adorn them with pretty metal and crystals, or have the balls to deal with the likes of the art trading market. I'm just – (Y/N)."

Deku chuckled next to you and grabbed your hand from your chest, holding it on his knee and squeezing it. You had literally just met the man maybe twenty minutes ago and you were showing affection like you've known each other for years. 

This shop was so strange to you sometimes, these beautifully tattooed men all just connected with you almost instantly and you with them. It felt like somehow you had some connection already to this shop but you didn't know how. 

A smile crossed your face as Deku brushed your skin with his thumb.

"Kacchan insisted that you work here (Y/N), Kacchan! He's not the easiest person to win over, at all."

A laugh left your lips and you clicked your tongue, "I think you mean that red-headed asshole down the hall isn't the easiest to win over. Kacchan was nothing."

Shouto and Deku looked at each other, both slightly confused. The Kirishima they knew wasn't what you'd call an 'asshole', he was rough sometimes but never did he meet a stranger that he couldn't befriend. From the looks of it earlier, Kiri actually seemed quiet taken with you as you healed him, only confusing Shouto even further. 

Maybe there is something Bakugou didn't mention that caused you to form such an opinion? 

The two-toned man brushed it out of his mind for now though, who liked each other or not wasn't the topic he was on.

"What Izuku means is that Bakugou doesn't just let people in within a flash, especially when it comes to this shop. When I'm away, you can say that Bakugou is in charge around here. He takes pride in this shop, in his friends. To tell you the truth, when Kirishima first brought up the idea of hiring someone for this position you have, Bakugou was the one 100% against it. He doesn't like just random people coming into our shop and becoming this very important part of it. So when he practically threatened to 'blow my fucking face off into oblivion and beyond' over you, a random girl, I found it odd."

(E/c) eyes blinked at Shouto, you were sort of dumbfounded right now and confused. Bakugou was shoving this job down your throat the moment he saw you, he went as far as to send two of his very own men to beg that you come back. If he was against it in the first place, why did he suddenly go all out for it when he met you?

"We like to say that Kacchan has like a sixth sense or a third eye," Deku finally spoke and broke your sea of thoughts. "He can sense these strange things, like when something good or bad is about to happen, or if someone he meets is of value or not, if that makes sense. Bottom line is, he saw something in you, something that told him that not only the shop needed you but we needed you."

You smirked and pinched Deku's freckled cheek as he took it upon himself to try and help you see things clearly. You sort of got it, but it still boggled your mind as to why? 

"Maybe it's my quirk, he did say that it would be perfect for this place," you thought while biting at your lip. 

You turned your head to look at Shouto when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, he looked at you with a subtle smile.

"You're a lot more than you think (Y/N). You help this shop run, you also help heal people, I've heard and I saw it with my own eyes. You are special and you are part of this 'art mafia', family, whatever you want to call it. That means every single one of us are watching out for you and have your back, so if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask or to talk with one of us."

Sighing, you looked from Shouto and back to Deku who gave you the cutest smile. You placed a hand on his cheek and pinched before letting him go. Looking to Shouto you smiled and placed your hand over his on your shoulder, squeezing it and nodding.

"Thank you Shouto and Deku. That really means a lot."

You and Shouto removed your hands and you sat there, a relieved breath leaving you as you looked around the studio. 

"So, do either of you tattoo?"

"Oh – Shouto here tattoos, I actually just help with the finances and stuff, all the paper work and numbers. I used to do your job when we were in town."

"I'm guessing you're a hard artist to get an appointment with then," you asked looking at Shouto.

He smiled and rose from his stool and walked over to the desk in the corner going to answer a text he received on his phone that sat on it, "Sometimes. I also just have my certain loyal customers and don't take many new ones. Why are you inquiring?"

Your shoulders shrugged and you hummed, you kind of were, maybe not right now but eventually you wanted to have something done by everyone in the shop, even by Bakugou. You wanted something to keep forever that reminded you of this wonderful little shop and these amazing men, life was very uncertain for you right now. You didn't exactly know whether you were staying or going.

"One day I'd love to! Actually, do either of you have your own tattoos? I haven't seen anything yet, but – you're also covered in clothes."

Deku chuckled and removed the hoodie he wore, revealing a loose over-sized grey shirt that hung from his body. On his forearm you immediately spotted a tattoo, it was of a green oni mask with a samurai helmet and swords crisscrossing behind it. You smiled at the color and looked to see that Deku's arms and hands were littered with scars. How you didn't see the ones on his hands before blew your mind, maybe because now you saw so many.

"Oh my god, Deku, what happened to you," you blurted out and grabbed his tattooed arm, fingers running over his scars gently.

The male had to take a second from the sudden contact of your skin to his so intimately. His free hand came up to tousle his hair and he forced down the pink that dusted his cheeks. 

"Oh uh – that's just from growing up and getting used to my quirk, among other things. I pushed myself and my limits too hard sometimes."

You pouted and counted scar after scar, you could tell he was only telling a fraction of the truth, some of the scars looked fresh probably by a few weeks. If he didn't want to delve into it though you didn't want to push it. 

He asked if you wanted to see his other tattoos and you nodded with a smile before letting go of his arm. Seconds later your eyes widened when his hands gathered the fabric of his loose shirt and started to pull it up his body. You really did try to look everywhere except his body but it was so difficult.

A sheepish chuckle came out of you as you brushed back a lock of hair, "I uh – don't have any cash on me right now Deku or else I'd make it rain. Like how are you so built?"

The male laughed as his shirt was removed from his body and bunched up on his forearms. Even if you called Deku a 'small' green bean, he was in actuality much bigger than you, in height and bulk. He was very muscular but a lean muscular, very attractive and handsome. Honestly you just wanted to stare all day and possibly touch him. Even more scars littered his chest, one very large scar started at his shoulder and went down to his elbow. 

Deku turned around and you gasped when he gave you his back. A beautiful and extremely detailed samurai warrior with sword in hand was inked into his skin, a Japanese temple was in the background and there was lots of shading to bring a dark and dreary tone to the piece. It looked as if someone took a poster and just plastered it on Deku's sculpted back, it was that perfect.

"I still think that's some of my best work," Shouto finally spoke for the first time during all of this.

Jaw dropping and looking back and forth from the tattoo to Shouto you pointed at the ink, "You did this? Are you serious?"

The man in question nodded and smirked, standing from the desk and ducking his cell into his pocket, Shouto walked over next to you and looked. 

"It definitely wasn't a one day thing, this piece took a few months to finish, you know to let everything breathe and heal properly and also between our business ventures."

Deku gasped when your cold fingers ran all over his back, tracing out the imagery and leaning close to really take it all in. His heart started to pound as you curiously felt on his skin, fingers feather-light. You 'oh'd' and 'ah'd' as Shouto explained the shading and lines and what spots were a bitch to do.

"Wow, it's really stunning Shouto, great job! Do you all just tattoo each other?"

Both men nodded and Deku put his shirt back on and turned around to face you and Shouto. 

"Shouto did the back piece, Kirishima did my forearm and Kirishima did Shouto's pieces."

Before you could even ask what Shouto had as his tattoo's or even become lucky enough to have him strip before you, the door to his studio slammed open and there stood Bakugou. His eyes scanned the room looking for something, stopping when they found you. For some reason you froze before smirking at him, gaining a cocky smile in return.

"I hope you aren't trading me in for these fucking extra's already princess, I haven't even had my fun with you yet," he commented while brushing past Deku and towards you.

Your hand flattened on the blonde's chest stopping him before you, his face still leaned close and you could smell his intoxicating sweet scent as you locked eyes with each other. 

"I haven't traded any one in for anything because I don't belong to any of you. And if you or anyone wants to 'have fun with me' then all you have to do is let me know a time and a place ... Kacchan!"

The growing smile on Bakugou's face quickly turned sour. 

"The fuck did you just call me," he asked with a husky voice that sent shivers down your spine.

You smiled and walked your fingers up the blonde's chest and neck to his face as you repeated yourself and spaced out your syllables. 

"I. Said. Kacchan."

Deku let out a squeak making the blonde turn his face and glare thus giving you a window to hurry and escape your death with a scream. Your feet bolted for the door and around the corner to run down the hall, you heard small popping noises and a "die" following fast after you. Tears streamed from your face from how hard you laughed, looking back you stuck out your tongue and flipped Bakugou two middle fingers, only making him accelerate faster. When you turned your head back forward you gasped upon seeing Denki in the way and tried to stop but collided into him with a hard thud. He grunted but stood his ground and quirked a brow.

"Don't you fucking let her go Pikachu, keep her right there!"

Your eyes widened looking back at Bakugou and you tried to run but Denki grabbed your shoulders and turned you around, pulling your back into his chest, doing as Bakugou instructed.

"Denki you fucking traitor, I thought you loved me!"

A laugh came from the golden-haired man, "I do love you lil'mama, but I kind of love living more."

Whining, your eyes squeezed shut as Bakugou zeroed in on you, his boots literally squeaking as he came to a stop before you. He leaned forward real close to where his lips touched the shell of your ear, you physically shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath and let out a curse that made him chuckle.

"Got the balls to repeat that princess?"

You smirked and chuckled yourself before making a bold move and licking up the blondes cheek, "Did I fucking stutter, Kacchan?"

Behind you Denki was shaking with laughter, "Ooh!"

"Kaminari, hold her still," were the last words you heard before strong and merciless fingers were at your sides and under your arms violently tickling you.

Denki kept a strong grip on your arms and placed the front of his feet over yours to keep you from kicking. Cries and sheer laughter erupted from within you, Bakugou mentioned that all you had to do was beg and ask nicely for him to stop and he would. You were too prideful though and refused to bow down to him.

"Never you fucking pomeranian!

The torture ensued tenfold. Your abdomen contracted as you tried to hunch over and hide your body but neither of the boys let up.

"The longer you drag this out the longer you go without food!"

Your lips pouted between laughing and you tried to bat your lashes, "Katsu that's not fair, I'm starving and this moron almost killed me today!"

Bakugou smiled at the little nickname you spoke for him, it had his blood pumping even more and he wanted to hear it again. 

"Fine then, don't beg or ask nicely. Just same my name like that one more time and I'll stop."

Trying to catch your breath between squeals and giggles you smirked at the blonde before you and rolled your eyes. 

"Fine. Please Katsu," you whined with pouty lips.

The blonde stopped and snapped his fingers, making Denki release you. Off balance you almost fell to the floor but Bakugou helped and caught you, his massive hands grabbing the side of your shoulders and bringing you close to his chest, your hands balled up against your own and you smiled and panted looking at him. 

"What, does that float your boat?"

"That wasn't even my name but I’m turned on," Denki interrupted.

You snorted and Bakugou couldn't help to crack his own laugh at the idiot you each called your friend. Before Bakugou could even get a word out or try to snap back at you a voice caught your ear.

"What the hell is going on?"

You looked to see Kirishima walking into the kitchen from the hall and suddenly felt like you were caught doing something wrong. Bakugou smirked and quickly grabbed your hips before hoisting you up and over his shoulder, earning a yelp as you squirmed. His hand landed a firm smack on your ass for the second time that day. You growled and punched his own ass but failed from the lack of force behind your swing.

"We were just rounding everyone up to eat," Bakugou replied with a shit eating grin and turned to walk you into the front lobby area.

You were now facing Kiri as the blonde carried you away, a smile crossed your face and you waved at the red-head. Unlike earlier, he didn't smile back, only looked severely agitated and rolled his eyes. Your head hung low at this and you just went along with the ride.

After eating lunch together in the front of the shop, Kirishima's tattoo appointment arrived causing him to leave the small talk that was going on. Shouto's phone rang and he excused himself to his studio to take it, leaving you, Bakugou, Deku and Denki alone. You sat between Deku and Bakugou on the nice black couch crisscrossed, one knee bouncing and hitting Deku’s. You talked about random things to pass the time until one idea came into your head.

"Hey, Bakugou," you called out turning to the blonde next to you.

He quirked a brow while drinking from his water bottle and wiped his mouth when he was done. "Drop that shit."

"Hah?"

"The fucking name, just use my given one, it's shorter for you to say."

A smile crossed your face and you leaned over placing your head on Bakugou's arm. "Aww, okay Katsuki! Anyway, would you ever pierce me?"

"With fucking pleasure!"

Sitting back up straight you turned more to fully face him, "What would you suggest? I don't really want a cliché belly button piercing."

Bakugou turned his head to look at you, he focused mainly on your face. His hand came up and grabbed your chin, the pad of his thumb ran across your bottom lip and he smiled. 

"You have these really fucking nice lips, I wouldn't want to ruin them with any snake bites or some shit but a little Monroe right here," he poked at the skin on your upper lip, "would really bring more focus to them."

His hand cupped your jaw and turned your face side to side gently, "If you wanted another, I'd say a simple nose ring. Your face is too pretty to fuck up with anything more than that."

You smiled and grabbed Bakugou's wrist, brushing his skin with your thumb, "Aww Katsu, are you just trying to get into my pants?"

The blonde smirked and brushed your own skin, "Obviously – but I'm also not a liar, I wouldn't say mushy shit like that if I didn't mean it, so be grateful!"

You smiled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek and sat back again. The thought of either piercing intrigued you. The more time you spent at the shop the more you wanted another tattoo or piercing. You felt naked when all the guys were around you, covered heavily in ink of their own and you were just - plain.

As you thought more, Shouto happened to walk back in and he rubbed the side of his neck when everyone but you looked at him. He subtly brushed the tip of his nose with his thumb, causing the three men before him to look at each other. You finally looked around and to Shouto and smiled. Bakugou sighed and stood from the couch, stretching and cracking the bones in his neck. Deku stood up next and you looked between them both.

"What's up guys?"

A hand gripped your knee and you looked to see Bakugou leaning down and close with a smile. 

"We have to go handle some business really quick, I'll pierce you next time princess."

You couldn't even get a word out before Bakugou placed a quick peck to your cheek and walked away. A weird feeling came over you and you grabbed Deku's hand when he went to follow, he grunted as you stopped him and turned around.

"Uh – be careful okay? It's getting late and the weather gets worse, so drive safely."

The green-haired man smiled before leaning over and placing a kiss to your head, "We'll be fine (Y/N), no worries!"

It had been a good two hours since Shouto, Deku and Bakugou left. The shop was slow and quiet with only one artist in who was currently finishing up the client he had. To curb your boredom, you and Denki decided to watch some anime at the counter together. You learned that most of the boys for the majority were nerds just like you, especially Denki. The golden-haired man was definitely one of your closest friends now and the two of you literally did everything together.

"I'll go beyond the limit break! The universe is mine to take! I have no fear, AH! I think it's clear, AH! Let's take it up into high gear! Oh this is Dragon Ball Super, we got the skills to blow them all away," you and Denki screamed singed on your stools, punching the air and each other.

Around that time Kirishima's client had walked out and to the counter to pay for their tattoo, catching all your hype. Of course neither you nor Denki were ashamed and you proceeded to take the gentlemen's payment . After he was taken care of and left, you followed behind to close and lock the door and flip the open sign over to signal the shop was now closed. Your feet skipped back behind the counter to watch the show with Denki, a few minutes later Kirishima appeared running a hand through his red thick spiky locks.

"What the fuck are you two screaming about up here?"

"Just some Dragon Ball, wanna watch Kiri," you questioned with a smile.

He quirked a brow and shook his head. 

An excited knock on the door broke all of your attention, making you jump as you looked up to see Sero outside with a massive smile. You immediately yelled out his name with excitement and left your stool to go let him in. Red eyes watching in envy at your adoration for the black-haired man. 

When Sero entered you hugged each other close and kissed cheeks. With an arm draped over your shoulder the two of you walked back to the counter and you helped to brush off a few snow flakes from his coat.

"How has your day off been Sero," you asked with a smile.

"It was boring to say the least, got a few errands done and just chilled. How was your day beautiful?"

At that moment you and Denki zeroed in on each other, eyes squinting and jaws clenching. Your fingers flew up to point at each other and in unison you both replied. 

"He/She set the kitchen on fire!"

Thus ensued the fight between the two of you as he tried to pin the whole situation on you. Sero knew better though, he even mentioned how Denki was technically banned from using the toaster anyway because of his dangerous ways of cooking. This only infuriated you more and caused you to shake his shoulders and make him have whiplash all over again. 

Sero laughed his ass off as he watched and Kirishima also chuckled. It humored him to see you all worked up, eyes wild and nonsense spewing from your lips. He pictured you as a little puppy trying to show how big and bad they were, it was quite adorable.

Finally, Sero stepped in and pried away your hands that were now on Denki's throat. 

"Alright, alright, so I take it today has been a day huh? I heard that Shouto and Deku are back, you met them?"

"Tch, did she ever, she was practically suffocating poor Izuku with her tits," Denki replied.

You went to kick at him but he dodged and stuck a pierced tongue out at you, Sero contained you, holding your back to his chest in a hug.

"You're just jealous Denki because now that little green bean is going to get all my attention."

"You're damn right I'm jealous! Until he showed up back, I was the shop heart throb!"

Kirishima and Sero snorted with laughter and Sero placed his hands on your shoulders, one going to ruffle your hair, "I'm sorry bro, but I think she stole that title from you."

You smiled with pride and thanked Sero for the compliment.

Suddenly Denki fell to his knees and crawled until he was hugging yours and fake crying. 

"I defended your honor though, don't let some freckles and green hair make you forget about your first true love! I can share you!"

You rolled your eyes and ran a hand through the golden hair, gripping and pulling the groveling man's head back. "I could never forget you Denki, trust me!"

"So does that mean I get to suffocate in your perfect boobs too?"

Before you could even reply both Sero and Kirishima took it upon themselves to smack the shit out of Denki. 

"You're fucking gross sometimes man," Kirishima growled.

You couldn't help but chuckle as the two men gave Denki what he deserved, you honestly weren't really offended, it's just how Denki was but it was nice to have Kirishima stand up for you for once. 

Holding up your hands you called off your two guard dogs and helped Denki back up to his feet. He pouted and laid his head on your shoulder, making you awe and hug him.

"I'm sorry cutie, that was shitty of me to say."

A sweet giggle rung in his ear and you patted his back. "It's okay Denki, I could never stay mad at you. You do know you're pretty much friend-zoned though, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I still want love too; these assholes aren't nice to me like you."

Sero and Kirishima groaned and threw their hands up while Denki started to gripe and whine, telling his sob story of being the shop bitch. You laughed and continued to coddle the man in your arms, listening to his fake cries while he hugged you back.

"You guys should be ashamed of yourself tearing down this man's pride and dignity, look at him, how could you be so mean to such a cute face," you cooed and took Denki's face in your hands squishing his cheeks.

"Tch, what little pride and dignity he had to start off with," Kirishima chuckled with Sero.

As the two continued to tease their friend, you continued to comfort him, trying to hide your own giggles. Denki was smiling and eating it up though, giving his two younger peers a middle finger. Finally all of you calmed down and you got around to asking why Sero even showed up so late.

"Well I was coming to pick up this fool, I also wanted to see if everyone wanted to come and hangout at our place tonight. We can get some pizza and drinks. Since you started working here, we haven't all really hung out much outside of work you know."

You smiled and nodded with excitement, "Oh that sounds fun, I'd love to!"

Sero grinned and nudged Kirishima, "You in too?"

The red-head rubbed the side of his neck and thought it over, his eyes met yours and he froze from you staring at him as if silently pleading that he agreed. He was groaning on the inside but he sighed and nodded.

"Sure, I gotta get my shit cleaned up first though, so one of you come help please," he requested, turning to walk back down the hall.

"I'll go help him," you chimed.

Denki and Sero nodded, "Okay then, I think we're gonna leave and go get the food and drinks. You can catch a ride to our place with him, if he tries to say anything about it just tell him to suck it up and call me if he really wants to be an ass about it."

After gifting each other kisses on the cheek and hugs, Denki and Sero left the shop and you locked the door behind them. Turning around and leaning against it you took a deep breath before walking off towards the hall and to Kirishima's studio. When you entered he was tossing out his used ink cups and looked up at you before looking away. You swallowed thickly and went to help him out by grabbing the disinfectant spray and spraying down his tattoo chair.

"Uh – the guys left to get a few things and said I could just catch a ride with you, you know since I decided to walk today," you softly spoke and gritted your teeth, body tensing up and waiting on some type of cold and harsh reply.

"That's fine little one."

"So, art dealers, that's what you fucking told her?"

Shouto nodded at Bakugou's question, removing the charred sweater from his body and tossed it into the large drum that sat next to a table full of blades and saws, even an electric one.

"That's all I could tell her, she's only been here a month Bakugou, give it some time before we really reveal who we truly are. I know you see something in her, but I still need to evaluate her myself before we tell her anything."

Bakugou rolled his eyes and examined the tools of torture on the table before him. Sobs and screams of pure agony mixed with the heavy music playing in the background making him smirk. He turned to see Deku grinning as he slowly peeled off the fingernails of the man bolted to a chair. Blood staining his grey over-sized shirt, small splatters dusted across his freckled face while he screamed with the man manically. Once Deku tore off the last nail he tossed it into a pile of the others and stood back to enjoy his handy-work.

"No one is going to hear you way out here you fucking animal, keep screaming, I bet I can scream louder," Deku challenged.

The blonde appeared next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm guessing that lead you two followed didn't turn up shit huh?"

Deku shook his head and scratched his temple with the bloody pliers in his hands, leg swinging out to kick the chair, making the victim in it cry out more.

"No, it was a bust. We tracked down this petty little gang for nearly a month only to find out they just sell dope on the side. They weren't exactly killers so we just dropped it. Now we're back where we started, I feel like we're never going to find the bastard that killed Yagi."

"We'll find them, we just need a break for now and time to gather new intel," Shouto spoke and walked up with a butchering saw propped on his shoulder.

He stood there with his other hand on his hip, the broken and bleeding man before him took in the tattoos that covered his arms and chest. 

It was all brushwork, like Japanese calligraphy that danced from Shouto's elbows and up his arms to his shoulders and chest. But on each side the brushwork morphed into different colored oni mask's once you looked at his pectorals. An elegant yet still intimidating white mask was inked on his right one, what looked like crystals of ice dripped from it. On the right, a fierce red one engulfed in a beautiful flame stared back at him. 

All three men looked terrifying and were terrifying. The blonde looked smug in his black tank that dipped low in the front to reveal grenades and roses among explosions. The green-haired male at first looked like he wouldn't hurt a fly but so far, he was the most sadistic of the three.

"W-Who are you, what do you want with me!"

Bakugou clicked his tongue and tilted his head. 

"We're the fuckers that are going to end your miserable life, the same way you ended those two young ladies who were just walking home from dinner. My pal Deku here is going to peel off your toe-nails next, then we'll start disassembling you finger by finger, toe by toe, limb by limb until your shitty body fills up this bin over here and we dispose of you properly. Anymore questions?"

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 6, Number 7

Stars Like Fleas

The summer rolls on in a very peculiar way, with masks and zoom calls and brief, furtive trips to the grocery and the growing realization that normal is months, if not years, away.  Even so, the music remains excellent. Thank god it’s downloadable and accessible even in these strange days we inhabit. Here writers including Bill Meyer, Jennifer Kelly, Jonathan Shaw, Ian Mathers, Justin Cober-Lake and Ray Garraty consider improvised drone, precocious alt.country, experimental banjo tunes, rap metal and jazz.  Enjoy.

75 Dollar Bill — Live at Café Oto (75 Dollar Bill’s Social Music series)

Live at Cafe OTO by 75 Dollar Bill

Before 75 Dollar Bill put out those widely revered LPs for Thin Wrist records, Che Chen and Rick Brown made a series of tapes. You could pick them up at shows, packaged in a clamshell case with a business card advertising their services. 2020 is a plague year, so it’s going to be a while before anyone hires them for another party or a parade, but this download-only release fulfills similar functions. It captures the band at a particular moment in time, and it gives you a chance to throw a few bucks their way. Do so and you probably won’t be sorry, because the late 2019 tour documented by Live at Café Oto was unique in 75 Dollar Bill’s history. Chen and Brown did the whole run of shows with double bassist Andrew Lafkas, but they also did nearly all of them without essential gear. It wasn’t until near the end, when they played in England, that Brown was reunited with the big wooden box that is his main percussive instrument. Spread across three sets, this three-hour long album shows how swell they sound when they’ve got a committed agent of swing adding his subtle shift to their Bo Diddley meets Mauritanian wedding music groove. If you know I Was Real, you’ll recognize many of these tunes, and you’ll likely appreciate the differences that 75 Dollar Bill works and reworks upon them.

Bill Meyer

  Bandgang Lonnie Bands \ Bandgang Javar – The Scamily (TF Entertainment \ Empire)

After Bandgang broke up, Lonnie Bands made a successful solo career. His only misfortune, apart from a murder rap prosecutors tried to stick him with, was that he picked up a no-talent partner Javar. Here, surrounded by aggressive but undistinguished artists Mascoe and Paid Will, Lonnie hasn’t learned lesson. Thankfully, Javar makes his presence on The Scamily scarce, and the second half is basically Lonnie’s solo effort with some guests. As usual, Lonnie makes himself busy in illegal activities: drugs, scams, pimping, firearms. He neatly sums up his bad deeds on “Me Too”: “You on that bullshit? Me too.” The Scamily is not that focused as last year’s KOD but Lonnie, with his slick rhyming and catchy hooks, always reinvents a bad man’s lexicon.

Ray Garraty

 Sammy Brue — Crash Test Kid (New West)

Sammy Brue is no longer quite the wunderkind he was when he released his first full-length at 15, but he is still quite impressive here on the follow-up, hitching the spit and fire and wordy angst of, say, Ezra Furman, to the downhome pyrotechnics of Bob Log III. “Teenage Mayhem” explodes with teenage aggression, building out a twitchy blues riff into a monumental rock chorus, while “Crash Test Kid,” is softer sonically, but just as unflinching in its narrative. “Skatepark Doomsday Blues” is epic and grandiose but carries it off, infusing an old man’s blues progressions with the eruptive feelings of young manhood. All the signs point towards Brue growing into his art. He’s already channeling raw emotion into sharp song structures and lyrics without sacrificing their force. It’s a drag getting old, but it doesn’t have to be a step back.

Jennifer Kelly

 John Butcher — On Being Observed (Weight of Wax)

On Being Observed by John Butcher

English saxophonist John Butcher has a deep and diverse discography, much of it on CD. Since the standard of his playing is so high, and the settings and accompanists he selects so diverse, they’ve never been merely about documentation; you’d have to look hard to find a dud on the shelves. But as format preferences, economic shifts, and that damned virus turn everything upside down, Butcher has, like everyone else, found himself suddenly with plenty of time to comb through the hard drives and reassess the music stored there. And since CD manufacturing and distribution has been snarled up worldwide, what better time to transfer some of it straight to yours? On Being Observed comprises six solo performances recorded between 2000 and 2006, and you could not ask for a better introduction to what he does on his own. It features him in the studio, at a jazz festival, and in some unusual acoustic environments which afford a number of ways to understand what it means to read the room. Whether he’s playing to an audience or a 20 second delay in a dis-used gas storage facility, acoustically or amplified, using a soprano or tenor sax, Butcher’s tone is unmistakable, and his sense of how long to develop ideas and how to develop them is peerless.

Bill Meyer.

 Carling & Will — Soon Comes Night (self-released)

Carling & Will (banjo player Carling Berkhout and multi-instrumentalist William Seeders Mosheim) have spent the last few years working out new twists on old-time music. Their debut album Soon Comes Night takes another a step forward from their previous, more traditional sound. Much of the album relies on the interplay of banjo and electric guitar. The pair don't go for outre sounds, but Mosheim provides textures for Berkhout's banjo playing. “Lillie's Lullaby” offers a highlight, not only in its prettiness, but in its revelation of Berkhout's idiosyncracies as she shifts in and out of more typical patterns. The album in itself makes for a lovely collection of songs, but it has both the ups and downs of an act starting to find itself. Carling & Will have a distinct voice, and the more they work to develop that (probably by letting Berkhout get odder and Mosheim explore his voicings a little), the more impressive they'll become. If the pair decides to just focus on smaller updates to mountain music, they've already shown a worthy artistry in that.

Justin Cober-Lake

 Cloud Rat — “Faster” (Self-released)

Faster by Cloud Rat

Like a lot of us, the folks in Cloud Rat have been cooped up behind walls, watching the world burn. But that hasn’t stopped them from making some terrific music. This new track, “Faster,” has been posted to Bandcamp as a benefit for Black Lives Matter-aligned organizations. The song is somewhat in the mode of their most recent EP, Do Not Let Me off the Cliff (2019). That record traded in the band’s characteristic grindpunk intensities for some weirdo experiments in dreampop, noise and gauzy gothic nightmare soundtracks. “Faster” isn’t quite as far out there, and longtime listeners of the band will recognize some of the textures of tracks like “Moksha,” “Raccoon” and “Luminescent Cellar.” The song starts and ends with some lovely acoustic finger-picking by guest musician Andy Gibbs of Thou. In between, there are clean vocals by Madison Marshall that border on the ethereal, and electric riffs that build and build toward majestic heights. Good cause, great tune.

Jonathan Shaw  

 Drakeo the Ruler – Thank You for Using GTL (Stinc Team)

Recorded through a phone line from prison, with beats later provided by JoogSZN, Thank You For Using GTL right after its release was named best prison album since Penitentiary Chances, by now classic joint effort by C-Murder (still incarcerated) and Boosie Badazz (now free). It was too strong a claim to be true. On that duo’s album you can hear a sense of doom hanging over them. When all hope is lost, there is only a prayer, and even that can get lost on its way to God. There was no tomorrow. Drakeo the Ruler, on the other hand, raps like there is tomorrow. Even rough sound of voice recording and “This call is being recorded” tags are more like a necessary sound effect and a gimmick rather than an effect of reality (he couldn’t do it any other way). Strip this tape of all these effects, and you end up with an ordinary rap album, exactly like others released by dozens every week. Maybe there is no reason to thank GTL. It did us a disservice.

Ray Garraty

 Holy Hive — Float Back to You (Big Crown)

These super laid back funk soul cuts stay well inside the pocket, except when they veer unexpectedly into indie-folk. The funk parts come from one-time Dap King Homer Steinweiss, whose loose but transcendent way with a groove can be best heard on “Hypnosis.” Paul Spring, the singer, brings in the psychedelic falsetto, more Justin Vernon than Curtis Mayfield, but still radiant and chilling. The title track plays like a lost 78 soul classic, Spring’s mournful melody wafting skyward as big loopy bass notes and splayed jazz guitar chords drop into a slink and strut of snare drum. That’s maybe what you’d expect from Steinweiss’ Brooklyn soul revivalist resume, but elsewhere, there are surprises. “Red Is the Rose” sounds like Tunng, all space-bopped folk magic and electro-pinging drums, and “Be Thou By My Side” is lattice-picked folk without the slightest hint of syncopation. Both sides of Holy Hive have their sweetness, but only the funk stuff buries a stinger.

Jennifer Kelly    

 Dustin Laurenzi’s Snaketime — Behold (Astral Spirits)

Behold by Dustin Laurenzi

Here’s an irony for you. Composer Louis Hardin, whose habit of dressing up like a Viking and hawking his wares on the streets of mid-20th century NYC turned him into a bona fide attraction, may have conversed with jazz musicians, and shared a record label or two with them. But he didn’t really like jazz. Nonetheless, jazz musicians liked his music back, and they still do. The melodies are graceful, but malleable, and the Bach-meets-powwow rhythms have plenty of productive implications for a percussionist willing to work between the lines. After years of study Chicago-based tenor saxophonist Dustin Laurenzi formed Snaketime, a project named after one of the composer’s rhythmic notions, that turned seven of his compatriots loose upon the Moondog book. Maybe loose isn’t quite the right word, since Laurenzi’s arrangements show deep respect for the original melodies and their exotic vibe. But there’s not a lot of music that can’t be made a bit better when you ask bass clarinetist Jason Stein to improvise from its foundations. This half-hour long tape adds four tunes to the seven on last year’s excellent LP Snaketime: The Music of Moondog, and any one of them could have made the cut if Laurenzi had been given enough rope to make a it a double album in the first place.

Bill Meyer  

 MachineGum — Conduit (Frenchkiss)

Like its Pepto-Bismol-pink cover, these songs seem a bit over-sweet and undernourishing at first, but damned if their synth and disco and art-rock grooves didn’t start to catch on after a few listens. The project, launched in New York City with the mysterious appearance of pink gum machines, is not what you’d expect from a Strokes offshoot, but give Fabrizio Moretti credit for branching out. Here tight, “O Please”’s sleek, wah-wah’d guitars and fat-fingered bass throws off a funk shimmy, but soft, dream-y choruses add an element of electro-pop introspection. “Act of Contrition,” by contrast, swells and swirls with gothy new wave drama, but also vibrates with indie earnestness; it’s like the National playing a New Order cover. If you’d told me a month ago, that I’d be enjoying a super clean, super precise synth-dance album by a member of the Strokes, I’d have laughed, but here we are.

Jennifer Kelly

 Phosphene — Lotus Eaters (Self-Release)

Lotus Eaters by Phosphene

Portland’s Phosphene drifts and drones in a satisfying vintage 4AD-ish way, the serene vocals of Rachel Frankel wafting out over intricate tangles of shoe-gazey guitars as Matthew Hemmerich pounds out motorik rhythms on the kit. This album, the band’s second, was written in the turbulent aftermath of the 2016 election, but it exudes a murky calm. In “Carousel,” for example, Frankel sings about how “everyone gets lost in their own power,” but the temperature remains cool, dream-like, lit by arcs of guitar sound and undergirded by a thudding mantra of bass (Kevin Kaw). The two singles run closest to pop. Bright, upbeat “Cocoon” is spiked with Spoon-ish piano chords, while “The Wave” damn near bubbles with girl pop exuberance. I can see why they’re leaning on those cuts, but I like the cloudy radiance of “Seven Ways,” the morose moods of “The Body” better.

Jennifer Kelly

 Sara Schoenbeck / Wayne Horvitz — Cell Walk (Songlines)

Cell Walk by Wayne Horvitz/Sara Schoenbeck

Bassoonist Sara Schoenbeck and pianist Wayne Horvitz built to their first duo release slowly. They've been playing together since the previous decade in Horvitz's Gravitas Quartet, working together in various styles. The bassoon doesn't necessarily lend itself to jazz, but Schoenbeck's experience with artists like Roscoe Mitchell and Anthony Braxton — as well as in various orchestras and symphonies — has revealed her fluency in different languages. Horvitz and Schoenbeck develop that approach on Cell Walk, mixing composed and improvised tracks, moving from jazz to classical and back again, happily residing in a new music space. The pair's chamber background comes to the fore more than anything else, but the artists' experimental ideas and Horvitz's occasional electronics keep the duo moving forward. The album mostly stays cool, although a few tempo shifts and Schoenbeck's varied tone create unexpected energy any time the disc starts to settle. Schoenbeck and Horvitz fill an unlikely niche, but they also make a good case for expanding it.

Justin Cober-Lake

  R.E. Seraphin — Tiny Shapes (Paisley Shirt)

Tiny Shapes by R.E. Seraphin

Ray Seraphin makes sweet, sharp songs out of guitar jangle and whispers that seem to nestle right in your ear. His first cassette under his own name after a stint in the slightly more abrasive Talkies kicks up a power pop dust and haze a la Luna or, more recently, Plates of Cake. Like these bands, however, he envelops smart, coiling melodies and wild spiralling guitar hijinks in daydreaming inchoate jangles. In “Streetlight,” Seraphin vamps and caroms in spike-y mid-temperature anthemry, crooning “And I won’t feel a thing,” and indeed there’s a misty, nostalgic remove around most of this album’s emotional content. Yet there’s also a classic pop shape that can’t quite be obscured by muttered, offhand delivery. “Fortuna” is the best bit, to my ears, a summer radio megahit heard from several rooms away, bittersweet and slipping away even as it plays.

Jennifer Kelly

 Stars Like Fleas — DWARS Session: Live on Radio VPRO (Amsterdam) (self released)

DWARS Session: Live on Radio VPRO (Amsterdam) by Stars Like Fleas

New York collective Stars Like Fleas are still gone, but the tracers and streamers left in the air by their passing continue to be entrancing. Whatever collapsed in the wake of their work on the follow up to their epochal LP The Ken Burns Effect can perhaps be glimpsed a little in the bulk of this first (and hopefully not last) release from what they describe as “a huge archive of live and session material.” As the title indicates, six of the 11 tracks here come from a radio session they did during their final tour (coming apart and leaving the final album unfinished upon their return to America). Along with a couple of Ken Burns highlights that session is all new material and it is as rich as anything they released during their lifetime. The collection is rounded out with some brief improvisations and another track intended for the final album, the 7” single “End Times”, and a wonderful performance of “Falstaff” from a Toronto show. Perversely and beautifully enough, the result is not only a must listen for fans of the group, it makes an excellent introduction for anyone who missed them the first time. Bring on the archives!  

Ian Mathers  

 Thecodontion — Supercontinent (I, Voidhanger)

Supercontinent by Thecodontion

 A death metal band entirely devoted to songs about ancient, paleolithic lifeforms and geological history? It’s not the most harebrained musical concept you may have heard — it even makes a sort of sense. What better musical genre to address such massive, atavistic and lumbering forms? Supercontinent is the Italian duo’s first LP, following 2019’s Jurassic EP. As its title suggests, this new Thecodontion record goes way, way back, to primal landforms, before continental drift assembled the earthball’s map into its current shape. Appropriately, the longest track on Supercontinent is “Pangaea,” named for the unimaginably huge late Paleozoic landmass. Thecodontion’s featured instrument is Giuseppe D’Adiutorio’s bass, which he variously thrums, hammers and shreds. He gets some pretty amazing sounds out of it, sometimes producing the soaring, moaning, keening sounds that Greg Lake coaxed out of his bass on the early King Crimson recordings. The proggy reference is pointed; Thecodontion’s high concept project smacks of prog’s grandiosity. But where prog shoots for the heavens, Thecodontion goes bone hunting. It’s interesting work.  

Jonathan Shaw

 Various Artists — Building A Better Reality: A Benefit Compilation (JMY)

Building A Better Reality : A Benefit Compilation by Various Artists

As Bandcamp’s choice to waive its portion of transaction proceeds in favor or certain needs and causes has evolved from an occasional to a monthly event, releases have started to appear which take advantage of both the event and the rapidity of production when no physical objects are being produced. George Floyd died under a policeman’s knee on May 25; this compilation was released just 24 days later, on Juneteenth. Brent Gutzeit of TV Pow secured 106 contributions from friends, friends of friends, and customers of friends — and that’s just the parties that this writer recognizes. They range in length from Kendraplex’s 58 seconds of metallic shredding to Joshua Abrams’ half hour of mournful clarinet and cathartic double bass. You’ll find acoustic protest music, swinging jazz, harsh noise, hip-hop, and a sound collage that includes sounds of protest and mourning. The participants include Simon Joyner, Jsun Borne, I Kong Kult, Jesse Goin, Chris Brokaw, AZITA, Keith Fullerton Whitman, and the Jeb Bishop Trio, along with many, many more. Have I listened to them all yet? Of course not! But the thing with a set like this is that you don’t need to. Put it into your shuffle play and it’ll yield surprises for years to come. Income goes to Black Lives Matter, NAACP Legal Defense Fund. and the Greater Chicago Food Depository.

Bill Meyer

 Michael Vincent Waller — A Song (Longform Editions)

A Song by Michael Vincent Waller

At first listen, you might not guess that composer Michael Vincent Waller’s new EP/song A Song is an improvised piece, and as the surrounding material on Bandcamp makes clear, that’s kind of part of the point. Composition vs. improvisation is the kind of duality where both sides are never really distinct, and Waller is both interested in the history of composers improvising and (possibly naturally) improvises in a way that’s not a million miles away from his compositions. Which also means that just on that first listen the 21 minutes of solo piano found here are frequently beautiful, whether patiently probing a set of arpeggios or momentarily going somewhere a bit darker and deeper near the end. Whether considered as work done around or between more composed ones or in its own right, A Song makes for both a fine follow up to Waller’s 2019 collection Moments and a brief thesis on the always permeable boundary between two methods of creation.  

Ian Mathers

[onestowatch]

Del Water Gap on Smash Mouth, Quarantine and “Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat” [Premiere + Q&A]

Photo: Angela Ricciardi

Some music is just so vivid that when you hear it, you see it. In the same vein, some songs are so personal that when you listen, it’s like peering into someone's innermost thoughts. Each one of Del Water Gap’s songs possess that power. The artist’s newest single, “Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat,” effectively peels back the curtain on a wandering mind’s thoughts.  

“Ode To a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat” explores feelings of apprehension and angst at the possibility of a lover finding love somewhere else. Frontman S. Holden Jaffe’s soft-hearted vocals flounce over folksy guitars with rock-leaning layerings. The song’s undercurrent is akin to Del Water Gap’s previous classic singer-songwriter style displayed on his Don’t Get Dark EP. But Del Water Gap’s 2020 sound is becoming more and more accented by contemporary touches and heightened tempos. 

We caught up with the man behind the project to find out more about “Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat,” his obsession with Smash Mouth, and how his quarantine is going. 

Ones To Watch: So you’re from rural Connecticut, but moved to Brooklyn during your young adult years. How have or haven’t your surroundings aided in creating your sound?

Del Water Gap: At the time I moved to the city, there was still a really vibrant indie scene happening. CMJ was in full swing, and I was out every weekend seeing bands like The Virgins, Public Access TV, The Drums… The Arctic Monkeys, The Antlers, Diet Cig. Bands and bands. Running into Fabrizio Moretti by the NYU library. I was spending a lot of time at St. Dymphna’s and borrowing electric guitars from my friend Dylan. I loved the music I was ingesting and the scene that came with it.

Did you choose music or did music choose you?

Music chose me - but I was an ardent enabler. I remember standing on my living room table and playing harmonica along with the radio as a kid. Everything in C major sounded decent...? I figured out what one-four-five felt like years before I knew the words for it, just staying quiet and listening. My relationship with music has been a bit of an abusive one in recent years, but I know I’m here for life. I’ve fantasized about quitting and doing something simpler hundreds of times, but i know that's not going to happen any time soon. 

What was it that made you decide to grow Del Water Gap from a personal project into a full blown touring band?

I put out an EP in 2012 under the name Del Water Gap because all of my heroes at the time were solo artists using monikers; Bon Iver, Tallest Man on Earth, St. Vincent… and so on. I moved to NYC without any aspirations of being a performer, but the record started performing a bit on local blogs and my best friend at the time basically forced me to play a show. She said “these are songs to fall in love to.” I refused and refused until she offered to play the show with me, and I finally gave in and booked a slot at Sullivan Hall in the village. I think we nearly sold it out.  

Who would you say your music is for?

People who have run out of podcasts. 

You’ve released “My Body,” featuring Claud, and now “Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat,” both of which admittedly sound a little different from your previous work. The newer singles still have a folksy charm but seem more electronic-leaning or even more pop-leaning. What’s leading this explorative venture?

As I was finishing college I started producing some indie pop artists with my friend Mike Adubato. It was really just a way to help make ends meet, but I spent a year looking over Mike’s shoulder as he built out arrangements. I really got a holistic education in pop production that way. As artists, I think that our work is defined both by our strengths and our limitations, and as my limitations broke open, my work changed. I would simply sit down to make a song and reach for different colors. I also started consuming more indie pop records, and I eventually made the realization that I could take influences from those records without sacrificing any part of myself as a writer or protagonist. 

We love how tender “Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat” not only sounds, but actually feels. There’s a ton of intimacy there. It feels like we’re reading a diary entry. Can you give us some more insight into the song’s origin?

The song came out of a slow night in the studio with my good friend Gabe Goodman. We had been in a secret boy band that broke up in 2017, and it was our first time really writing together since things ended. I programmed some drums, and Gabe put most of the music together - we were just getting into a flow when a friend invited us to dinner with one of our musical heroes. We looked at each other and said “Should we go? Do we stop now?” “No, no, no we stay,” we decided. So we kept writing and had a spiked seltzer or two. 

I came back to the studio the next day and moved a few things around and wrote most of the words. I was seeing someone at the time who I really liked, and we had both been walking up to the line of asking the other to be with each other and no one else. Finally, we were sitting together one day and it got all quiet and she goes, “I’ve had this stuck in my throat all day…” And that was the start of our togetherness and the inspiration for the song. 

We were creeping on your Twitter. What’s going on with you, bowl cuts, and Smash Mouth? 

I thought you’d never ask - a few months ago, I was having a coffee playdate with my friend Charlie Burg and he was sketching me from the across the table. He’s really a very good artist, so I was feeling a little competitive and decided I would try my hand at sketching as well. So I grabbed a pen and a napkin from the table and drew this ridiculous line drawing of a horse with a bowl cut and a human face. It looks like something a six year old would draw in art class. It also has this disturbing and surrealist quality to it. We were laughing and laughing at my ridiculous creation and I turned to Charlie and said, “Do you think I could sell this online?” So I threw the napkin on my web store and it sold in five minutes and the whole event was so delightful to me that I made “commemorative” t-shirts and a Horse With Bowl Cut fan club account on Instagram. So a lot of bowl cut content makes its way to me these days. 

Not much to say about Smash Mouth other than the 2001 Smash Mouth self-titled LP is one of the greatest records ever made, and I will gladly teach a college level course on it if any university will lend me a classroom space. 

I read that you draw inspiration from what you eat, But when it comes to flavor, how would you describe your musical palette?

I would describe a musical cheese plate; sweet and savory. Trou Du Cru, a truffle Moelleux des Alpes, a hard Beaufort. Some honey and jam on the side, olives and cornichon. With a generous pile of those really expensive fig crackers they have at Whole Foods. 

What’s been one of the defining moments of your artistic career so far?

My dad FaceTimed me the other day from quarantine wearing a Del Water Gap mock turtleneck and listening to my song “Theory of Emotion.” That was pure power. 

What’s next for you?

I’m putting out the best work of my life so far - a few songs now and a few over the summer and into the fall. I’m touring with girl in red. I’m surviving this pandemic and everything that has come with it. I am trying to be a better friend and take better care of my brain and my body. 

We of course hope you’re staying safe during this time. But how are you keeping quarantine interesting? Or are you?

I am very lucky to be safe and comfortable - I’ve run away to a friend’s house by the ocean, so I have some fresh air and light, and I get to say hi to a seal once in a while. I’ve been journaling and cooking and trying to run twenty miles a week. I’ve been coloring a lot and watching Nashville. The excess of free time has not led to an excess of creation, but I’m trying to be gentle on myself. I think the collective anxiety has taken a toll on all of us. We’ll be writing about this for years to come, but we may have to wait a few years before we start. I shot a music video for “Ode” from quarantine, and have been finishing up my record remotely with Mike and Gabe. One of my best friend’s dad is a practicing buddhist, so he’s been sending me some really powerful literature each day, helping me move towards a more organized spiritual practice. All we can do right now is sit in this and keep in touch with the ones we love, so that’s my work. 

Lastly, who are your Ones to Watch?

I love Rosie Tucker’s record Never Not Never Not Never Not. Miss Grit played one of my favorite shows of the year opening for Daisy the Great at Rough Trade in August. Briston Maroney is making really powerful records. and Claud of course! One of my friends has a new project called Honeywhip, which I have been literally playing on repeat.

[rebelminxy]

It Was Worth It

Word Count: 2340

Pairing: Dean Winchester and Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mild Language

Square Filled: Crossroads Demon

A/N: In this fic, Dean never broke the first seal, being pulled out of Hell before he could. The ending takes place in 4x7, right after Sam sends Samhain back to Hell. And yes, I do realize the symbol in the art above isn’t a seal of sorts but it was the best option I could find on Pinterest to fit with the storyline imaging. Please don’t @ me XD. This was written for @heavenandhellbingo​

Summary: After watching a hellhound tear to shreds your best friend four months ago, you decide to do the worst possible thing ever and make a deal with a demon. But what do you have that’s worth more than a Winchester soul?

Heaven and Hell Bingo

        Dean Winchester saved your life so many times, you had lost count. The man was like an older brother to you, your best friend, and he was gone. Torn away, literally, from you. All because of his baby brother, Sam. 

        After watching Dean being torn to shreds, you left, leaving Sam behind. You knew Sam’s promise to his brother to watch out for you but you didn’t care. Your connection with Sam wasn’t as strong as it was with Dean. So leaving Sam behind as you drove off in your Jeep wasn’t a big issue. You spent the last three months hunting, finding a way to get Dean out of Hell, drinking, and sleeping, in that order and on repeat. Sam and Bobby tried reaching out, calling you constantly, but you just ignored their calls, eventually getting a new phone. Those three months felt like years, lost at sea with no guidance, all alone. Once the fourth month hit and with no other answers, you knew exactly what needed to be done. 

        As you prepared yourself for the worst, you thought back on your moments with Dean. You first met through Bobby, an old man that took you in at the age of 15 after your parents died on a hunt. Being raised in the life, you knew the dangers. But that still didn’t scare you off when you were old enough to start hunting on your own. Bobby kept you hidden while you grew up, not even introducing you to John and his boys whenever they came around. But once you turned 18, you went on your own to hunt those that lurked in the darkness, your anger from losing your parents tearing through the monsters you killed. 

        It was on your 21st birthday that you met Dean. Sucker was cocky and thought he could get into your pants with a few words. But all he got in return was a punch on the nose and an f you. After that, Dean made it his job to follow you everywhere. You hated it at first but had to admit the guy was helpful on hunts. Especially since he had a real sweet ride. After a year of hunting together, it became the norm. Him coming over to Bobby’s to take you out on a hunt, riding around and sharing a motel room. 

        Your relationship with Dean became the sibling type, even though he had a brother who had gone off to college. ‘Wanting that apple pie life’ he would always say when it came to Sam. But you could see how sad he was when it came to his brother. Eventually, Sam would join the both of you, losing his girlfriend to the same monster that took their mother when they were younger. Everything was how it should be, Dean getting his brother back, the three of you getting along, hunting down the thing that deserved to die after their father’s death. All smooth sailing until Sam’s death.

        You felt for Dean, losing his brother. He wanted to be alone with Sam, so you went to stay at Bobby’s, hoping Dean would come back. But when he did, Sam was right behind him, as if nothing happened. You watched as Bobby dragged Dean out into the yard, away from the house. Excusing yourself from Sam, you followed, keeping quiet as you heard Bobby yell out.

“You made a deal, for Sam didn’t you?” Bobby asked desperately. 

        Dean didn’t answer, you could see him turn his face away from Bobby.

“How long they give you?”

“Bobby,” Dean begged.

“HOW LONG?”

“....One year.”

        Your eyes went wide in shock, holding in the scream that was itching at your throat.

“Damnit, Dean.”

“Which is why we gotta find this yellow-eyed son of a bitch. This is why ama kill him myself, I mean I got nothing to lose now, right?”

        Bobby grabbed Dean by the jacket and shook him as if trying to wake him up.

“I could throttle you!”

“And what, send me downstairs ahead of schedule?”

        Bobby let Dean go, letting you see the anger on his face, probably the same level of anger you felt at that moment, maybe more.

“What is it with you Winchesters, huh? You, your dad, your both just itching to throw yourselves down the pit.”

“That’s my point. Dad brought me back, Bobby, I’m not even supposed to be here!’

        You felt the tears begin to break, reminding you of the scare you recently had at the thought of losing Dean, losing your big brother. 

“At least this way, something good can come out of it, you know. It’s like my life can mean something.”

“WHAT! And it didn’t before?! Have you got that a low opinion of yourself! Are you that screwed in the head?”

“I couldn’t let him die, Bobby,” Dean muttered, the sadness in his tone. “I couldn’t. He’s my brother.”

“How’s your brother gonna feel when he knows your going to Hell? How will (Y/N) feel? How’d you feel when you knew your dad went for you?”

“You can’t tell them,” Dean begged. “You can take a shot at me, do whatever you gotta do but please don’t tell them.” 

        That’s when Bobby released the tears you already had dropping silently. You watched as the old man pulled Dean into a hug, both crying into each other’s shoulders. You fought back the scream and quietly went back into the house, avoiding Sam at all costs. You went into your room and cried it all out, your heartbreaking at the knowledge of losing the man that saved you from yourself so many times. 

=====

        Right as you buried the tin box with everything inside, you heard a chuckle behind you.

“Well, well, isn’t it the Winchester’s little pet? Didn’t expect to see you out here after Sam stopped begging. Didn’t he tell you, we got what we wanted…”

“I got something better,” you interrupted, turning to face the crossroads demon. 

        The body before you was a woman who looked like she was in her early twenties. But the red eyes made it clear you were talking to who you needed.

“And what do you have that we don't?”

        Without another word, you opened your button-down to reveal your chest. Right above your heart was a marking engraved into your skin, something you’ve had since you could remember.

“You see, the Winchesters aren’t the only ones that descended from the Cain family tree. Cain had a daughter, one that her mother kept hidden because of her magical abilities. This daughter was marked with a sigil by an angel that warned Cain’s wife about the potential danger this family line could cause.”

        You pointed at the marking on your chest and smiled coyly.

“Each baby born from this bloodline get this engraved over their hearts, a sigil that hides our blood so that no magical beings can find them. Not only are we a direct line from Cain, but we females all have magical abilities that are locked away with this sigil, only being able to use them when the sigil is broken.”

“You’re lying!” the demon exclaimed.

“Ask your supervisors and see what they tell you.”

“Give me a moment with her,” a voice softly spoke from the shadows.

        You turned to see a blonde woman walk out from the darkness, her eyes white.

“Lilith,” you growled, having a strong urge to kill the bitch where she stood, but knew that it wouldn’t save Dean.

“Glad to see you alive and well, now what’s this about your family bloodline?”

        Before she took another step towards you, you pulled out your knife and pointed it out to her. She stopped in her tracks and watched you as you lifted the knife and slowly cut through the carving, breaking the skin. You screamed out in pain as you felt your body vibrate, the ground shaking as the knife broke the symbol in half. Once the cut was through the symbol, everything went quiet, your blood seeping down your skin. But Lilith’s eyes grew wide in joy and she laughed as she finally sensed your blood.

“Wow! Cain had mentioned one of his children dying but no one suspected he was lying! I certainly can’t let you go, missy, not with that power running through your veins.”

“I’m here to make a deal, bitch,” you growled at her as you lifted the knife to your throat. “My life for Dean’s.”

“And what makes you think we will make that trade?”

“Because, the moment you set Dean free, I will do anything you ask.”

“Anything?” Lilith asked in a sing-song tone.

“Anything,” you whispered, sure of your choice.

        Lilith giggled and moved towards you, standing very close. Her mouth was mere inches from yours when she giggled again and whispered ‘Deal’. You moved in and kissed her right on the lips, making the contract. 

========

“Well done there, Sammy boy. But a little too late on NOT breaking the seal.”

        The brothers turned towards you, eyes wide in shock as they saw you walk out of the shadows. You wore a black sheer lace turtleneck dress with long sleeves and a very high V split cutout in the front, black bra underneath. You wore a pair of black leather shorts under the dress and black ankle-high leather combat boots Your hair flowed in waves all the way down to your waist, black as night compared to your original (Y/H/C), a wide brim hat on the top of your head. 

“Hey there boys, long time no see,” you smiled at them.

“(Y/N/N), what happened…” Dean stuttered. “Where have you been?”

“Been here, been there, been everywhere really,” you teased as you walked around them. 

“Bobby and I tried looking for you,” Sam stated, the anger rising. “We thought you were dead!”

“I was, trust me after Dean’s death I died. But, with a small change, I am more alive than ever,” you giggled.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked. “And how did you find us?”

“Been watching from the background, keeping close but not close enough for you to know.”

“And why didn’t you help us? Why are you hiding until now?” Dean pressured.

“Because my job was getting boring so thought I might make it a bit more fun.”

        You smiled wickedly at them as your eyes turned black. The shock and fear on their faces made you cackle with joy.

“Like I said, more alive than ever boys!”

“What did you do?” Dean urged.

“Eh, deal gone wrong, meant to save you. But, honestly, this feels so goddamn right!”

        You skipped towards them, causing them to back up into a wall. You stopped about three feet from them and smiled, tilting your head to the side.

“Why? Why did you do it?” Dean questioned. “The angels….”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. The moment I made the deal, those fluffy dicks went in and broke you out. They reacted out of desperation but they were too late.”

        You began to swing on your heels, smiling as you stared at Dean, your black eyes never leaving his green ones.

“But, even though they got you out, didn’t mean crap when it came to breaking the first seal.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked.

“As the prophecy states, the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell,” you giggled as you continued. “Well, they were wrong about it just being a man.”

“You didn’t,” Dean whispered as the realization hit him.

“Oh, I did! And I reveled in it!”

“Why? Why did you do it? Your deal was broken!” Sam yelled at you.

“The deal wasn’t broken, my life for Dean’s. Dean up top and mine down in the Pit, didn’t specify the how.”

“(Y/N), you are better than this,” Dean began.

“I was Dean!” you screamed at him, causing him to step back. “I was until I lost the one person that made me feel whole, that made me feel like I had a family. I lost the man I called brother for some snotty nose brat!” you spit out as you looked at Sam.

“(Y/N), you are like a sister to me,” Sam added, but the look you gave him stopped him.

“It’s because of you Dean went to Hell in the first place,” you roared, moving closer to Sam. “It’s because of you Dean had moments where he felt alone. It’s because of you Dean would never love me the way he loves you!”

        The jealousy raged from your voice as to stood inches from Sam. You then moved in to whisper into Sam’s ear, making sure Dean couldn’t hear.

“But if he knew what you and Ruby were doing, well, that love would end in a heartbeat. But I’m not that kind of bitch.”

        You moved away from Sam, giving him an evil smile, his eyes letting you know he was afraid. You then turned, giving the brothers your back.

“Just so we are clear, this isn’t the last you will see of me. But if either of you gets in my way, I won’t hesitate to kill.”

“(Y/N), please, we don’t want to lose you,” Dean begged, making you turn around.

“Oh, you lost me the moment I found out about your little deal.”

        You extended out a hand and pushed them both against the wall, hard. Once they got their bearings and searched the room to look for you, you were already gone. You watched them from a crystal ball in your little apartment miles away from where they were. You watched as they looked everywhere in the room, finally giving up and heading out the crypt. You waved your hand and the inside of the crystal turned into black smoke. You turned away from it and looked out the giant window into the night, smiling.

“Good luck, boys. Gonna need it while dealing with me.”

[lauranis]

Okay so like, this is just a lot of word vomit but it’s a bunch of my Magnai x Kei ideas so far. Some I want to get art of eventually.

So this whole AU idea started with this:

(image of Magnai saying: Am I fated to live my life as a sun without a moon? Is there no Nhaama for me...?) He even looks down at the floor when he says it, it made me so sad for him :c THUS THIS AU WAS BORN \o/

AU: Kei never leaves the Steppes.

The basic idea is Kei travels to both the Dawn Throne and Reunion to trade for his tribe so he’s well known in both places. He’s met Magnai a few times but never in a one on one situation so it’s just been like a quick greeting from Magnai, while Kei ofc tries to flirt with him but fails since Magnai is always too busy thinking of other things. It’s not until later when Kei needs to request some aid with a large monster harassing his tribe that he and Magnai finally have a proper face to face and it’s then that Magnai finally gets to look him in the eyes and finds his Nhaama in Kei’s gaze and Kei finds something in Magnai’s (Kei’s tribe doesn’t really have the same belief of destined mate as the Oronir but he can’t deny there is something there). Things get a bit hectic after that in the sense of like, Magnai being overjoyed he finally found his moon so he calls for a feast to be arranged, Kei laughing about it but gently insisting his tribe really needs help. Magnai gathers a group of warriors and leads them himself in the hunt for the beast and takes Kei along too, so he can meet Kei’s tribe and parents proper before he keeps Kei with him at the Dawn Throne.

Then my brain went into angst mode for the baraam that the WoL partakes in. This is a copy paste from when I threw this wall of text at @arayan-ffxiv lol.

Kei was there during the battle when the WoL claims power. He'd be like, in the back trying to keep Magnai safe, healing other oronir as they were injured. But then he gets a spear through his gut from behind and it fucks him up real bad as it gets pulled back out. He collapses and it's good that he does cause his attacker takes that as him being done for and they move on. Kei tries to call out for help but no one is close enough to hear him over the sounds of battle and moments later he passes out, one arm reaching out on the ground towards Magnai.

And it wouldn't be until after everything that Magnai can go look for him, despite him being concerned about Kei being missing during the battle against the garleans. When he finally finds him, Kei is barely alive, blood soaking the ground around him. It's one of the rare times anyone sees Magnai lose his composure as he pulls Kei into his arms, one hand desperately pressing on the wound, screaming for healers. The clan healers take Kei from him, rushing him back to the Dawn Throne as they begin healing him and after hours of wait, they tell him that they mended his wound the best they could but he lost a lot of blood so he might not survive the night.

-- My brain didn’t really give me more details than that but he does ofc survive and Magnai stays glued to his bedside to care for him.

Tho my brain did try to give me a scenario where it was an oronir that tried to kill Kei, using the battle to hide that it was them. Said oronir being part of a small group that didn't approve of Kei cause he was from such a seemingly weak tribe and they didn't like that the partner of their leader was a man (not in the anti-gay way, just more old fashioned of how will they continue Magnai’s bloodline). Then my brain went on to having Magnai find this out by sheer accident as he was out to clear his head during the night a few days after the battle, with Kei still dangerously weakened and unconscious. He happened to come upon a small group, the attacker included, of oronir who were talking about the attempted murder of Kei and how they should go about trying to finish him off. Magnai had to fight his gut reaction of KILL THEM MAKE THEM PAY DESTROY THEM and without alerting them he put their faces to memory and left, beginning to plan a way to find out how many people were in on this murder plot.

Thankfully my mind gave up on this scenario lmao, so this is like, a non-canon part of the AU.

More copy paste from discord with Ara.

Continuing with this au, i got the idea of Kei heading back to his tribe for a visit but he was ambushed on the way there by a rival tribe of the oronir and they tried to use him as some kind of leverage/trade thing to get to Magnai, it didn't really work of course and Magnai gathered his warriors to go get Kei back. When they found him, he'd clearly been beaten and Magnai just went berserk and they ended up nearly wiping out the tribe for harming Kei. Magnai was injured during the battle and when they got back to the dawn throne, Kei watched over him as they both recovered. Kei however healed up faster since his injuries weren't as severe and one night while Magnai was still sleeping, he decided to return to his tribe, leaving a note behind. In the note he said that while he loved Magnai more than anything, he couldn't stand being the cause of such trouble for him by remaining by his side so he was returning to his people. Magnai of course didn't take this news well and nearly re-opened his wounds trying to go after Kei the next day. The tribe healers had to sedate him to make sure he healed up before doing anything.

It's almost a week later when the healers finally deem him healed enough and he immediately sets off for Kei's tribe. When he arrives he finds out that Kei has secluded himself in a yurt hidden in a grove of trees by the river outside the village. It takes him a little while to find it and when he does, Magnai's anger over Kei leaving has built back up and he burst through the entrance ready to call Kei an idiot and other things for leaving, but his anger quickly evaporates when he finds Kei sprawled out on the floor, unconscious and surrounded by firewood he must have been carrying inside. Magnai quickly gets Kei up and into his bed, and when he finally gets a good look at him he can tell Kei has not been sleeping and touching his forehead he finds that he has a burning hot fever. The next few days Magnai spends taking care of Kei, trying to make sure he gets water in him and keeps him wrapped up in bed, Magnai also shares the bed with him when the fever shakes get bad to help keep him warm. Kei drifts in and out of consciousness during this, not really registering that Magnai is there. When Kei is finally better and wakes up, they have a proper talk about everything and Magnai convinces Kei to return to the dawn throne with him because he doesn't care about what so called trouble will happen, he just wants to be with Kei, his precious moon, no matter what.

Smutty side of the AU: sex on the throne, sex where Daidukul joins them and he and Magnai dp Kei, Magnai fucking Kei in plain sight of both tribes to claim him as his alone after one too many buduga try to flirt with Kei

And some more copy paste from discord.

My brain is trying to give me the terrible idea of Kei going out with some hunters of both clans and the group being ambushed by like mercenaries/borderline slavers that have been paid to grab any au ra they can get their hands on for some rich fuckbag who wants them as pit fighters.

One of the hunters would get away, badly wounded, but he'd make it back to the dawn throne to tell them what happened. Magnai practically explodes with rage that someone would dare take his moon. He and Daidukul gather up their warriors and go on the hunt for the kidnappers. It only takes them half a day to find them but even in that short time the hunters and Kei have clearly been beaten and hurt by some kind of magic, and they all have some kind of glowing shackles around their wrists and necks. At the sight of Kei huddled in the corner of a cage, some of his hair slicked down with blood, Magnai snaps and let's loose on the kidnappers with a fury none of his tribesmen had seen before.

There's little left but piles of gore and large puddles of blood when he's done. Some of the other warriors had already gotten Kei and the hunters out of the cages while Magnai was lost to his rage. When he finally calms, he is immediately at Kei's side and remains there until the healers separate them upon returning to the dawn throne.

After that whole mess I can see Magnai keeping Kei at his side at all times, even snapping at anyone that accidentally sneaks up on them, tho Kei always apologises for his behaviour while Magnai just grumbles and holds him close. It'd be a long time before Magnai dares let Kei out of his sight for any longer times.

Kei making flower crowns in the summers and he always gives Magnai a beautiful bright red and orange one. Daidukul gets one with different shades of blue, Baatu gets purples. He even makes tiny ones for the sheep sometimes out of flowers he knows they like so they have a little snack when it falls off them.

I like to imagine Magnai being a grump the first time cause how dare you adorn the sun with flowers but he sees how happy it makes Kei so he bites his tongue and eventually he looks forward to it because he loves watching Kei sit and weave the crowns together and seeing his brilliant smile as he goes around crowning people in the tribes.

And one summer Magnai tries making one in secret for Kei. It takes several tries and he's not really happy with it in the end but he presents it to Kei anyway cause he deserves having one made for him too. It's a little messy and some stems stick out here and there but Kei loves it and wears it for as long as he can.

I also figure they have a talk about Magnai's responsibility as khan to continue his blood line and since Kei obviously can't help him with that, they agree that they should find a willing lady to bear a child or two for Magnai that Kei will help him raise.

Magnai also manages to convince Kei to bed a woman to have a child of his blood too, cause he doesn't want sweet, gentle Kei to be the last of his line. Which Kei calls him silly for but he does agree to siring a child.

Tired Magnai trying to sleep in while Kei is helping start breakfast for the tribe and before he can get back to sleep, Kei's son and Magnai's twins (a boy and a girl) barge into the room and climb onto the bed to try to get him up.

Rewind a bit to when they are all toddlers and Magnai is exhausted and has fallen asleep on the throne with a twin in each arm. Daidukul off to the side as usual, unable to keep from smiling as he keeps an eye on the sleeping pile just in case one of the babies move. Kei has his son in a sling against his chest as he goes about his usual chores around the camp. Anyone who enters the throne room to speak to Magnai is immediately shushed and shoo'd out by Daidukul.

Both of them being awoken at night by the chorus of babies screaming and Kei is just like, utterly drained and throws a pillow at Magnai as he mutters a tired "your turn". Magnai throws the pillow back with a small smile before he leans over to press a kiss to Kei's forehead and then he goes to soothe the children.

As much of an attitude he puts out, I like to think he's super soft and gentle with his loved ones. Also it'd be funny to see how confused the tribes would be when they see him gently doting over Kei at the start of their relationship and then again when the kids are born.

The kids grow up to be great hunters, Kei's son inherits his father's knack for healing, Magnai's son becomes a skilled leatherworker and his daughter becomes the best tracker of the tribes. She also trains with an axe like Magnai and he beams with pride the day she beats him during their sparring.

That’s all I got so far lol

[tjkiahgb]

Episode Recap: 2.25, “The Cake That Takes the Cake”

We find Andi and Bex looking at rings to start the episode. I know money is probably tight, I know the proposal is unconventional, I know they’re shopping for Bowie, but why are they looking through the kind of rings you’d get out of the vending machines you put quarters into at the grocery store?

(Also, why is Bex wearing more rings than an 18th century pirate?)

I’m surprised these rings aren’t stored in plastic acorn capsules.

Andi finds a yin yang ring and they realize the message it sends about the universe and everything is the perfect one, even though the ring itself looks like it fell out of a Cracker Jack box.

They celebrate by screaming wildly in the middle of a jewelry store.

Meanwhile, Cyrus and Buffy hang out at the outside basketball courts on a snowy, freezing cold Summer Winter Spring morning.

(Why is that school bus parked in somebody’s driveway?)

Sorry to call out an actor here, but um... Sofia is not good at basketball. Like, at all. In fairness to her, she wasn’t cast to be a basketball player. She’s a very good actor. That’s her strength. Well, also dance. She’s also a good dancer. But that’s neither here nor there. The point is, basketball is not her forte. (Luke is better, but not great either. When you watch the one-on-one later, pay attention to how almost any time someone looks remotely fluid performing a basketball related action, you don’t see their face. It’s... noticeable.)

I say all this just as a fan of basketball who’s having a difficult time watching this scene. Anyway, I’m not really blaming her as much as the director. They’ve done a pretty good job this season of making her look good on the court, but this long, uncut shot of her dribbling and awkwardly pulling up to shoot was a poor choice.

Cyrus tries to pump Buffy up, especially because there’s a basketball game on Friday and Cyrus wants Buffy to rejoin the team. Buffy won’t though.

Cyrus thinks it’s because of TJ. He tries to explain that TJ’s a completely different person. He even got a “C” on a math test.

(It was what now?)

Cyrus says he was like a puppy. Buffy, undeterred, says he’s still a puppy she doesn’t want to play with.

Listen, Buffy’s feelings of anger towards TJ aside, “I don’t want to play with that puppy” is an inherently false statement like “I don’t need oxygen to live,” or “I’m perfectly fine with being set on fire,” or “Oh, you don’t have Coke? That’s great! Pepsi was my first choice!”

Andi and Bex walk together just a couple hundred yards from where Cyrus and Buffy are.

Same bus, same house.

Season’s almost over. Sort of sad the last time the GHC shared the same room was when Buffy and Cyrus walked by in the background of Andi and Jonah’s date planning at Cloud 10, and their last interaction was 15 seconds of looking at each other while Jonah and Walker talked at the art show. Andi and Bex should’ve stopped by the court to say “Hi” at least.

But they didn’t. They’ve got their own thing to do. They’re planning the proposal for tonight. Andi is upset they’ve already used the “hide the ring in a pizza box” plan. They decide to hide the ring in a cake instead. Feels like someone should tell them you can propose without hiding rings in food. In fact, most proposals aren’t “hiding rings in food” based.

Andi decides they should drop in on Bowie at Red Rooster and invite him to dinner, real low-key and casual. It’s such a simple plan. All they have to do is not act like a dentist just pumped them full of nitrous oxide. There’s no way it can fail.

Welp. Maybe they should’ve just texted him? Bowie thinks they’re up to something but isn’t a detective, so he’s unable to piece together anything more than that.

Later, Andi and Bex put together the cake. They stuff the ring inside.

Not a fan of this at all. The pizza plan had the ring safely in a holder on top of the pizza. This is a big hazard! The only thing preventing tragedy is an easily movable toothpick. You want a surefire way to ruin a proposal? Have the guy you’re proposing to choke to death on a little chunk of metal. You are playing with fire here.

Still, they’re happy with their plan. Until they turn around and see they’ve made a huge mess.

One bigger than you might think possible for making just one little cake. And why are there sprinkles everywhere? There are no sprinkles on the cake! What were they even doing in there?!

This has become such a mess, they decide they can’t continue to make food here. They’ll use Celia’s kitchen (and her dining room and her dishes) instead and leave this mess to animated forest animals to clean up.

Bex, if you leave this mess sitting out for the rest of the day, the only animals that are going to show up to take care of it are ants. Do you want ants? Because that’s how you get ants.

Cyrus and Buffy show up at the gym. Cyrus excuses himself to grab something out of his locker, which should be Buffy’s first clue that something is up. There’s no way Cyrus has anything important in his gym locker.

TJ shows up. Buffy says, “Well, well, if it isn’t Jock-iavelli” thinking she’s gonna catch TJ off-guard, but TJ knows who Machiavelli is because he has a numbers-related learning disability, not a lack of intelligence.

Buffy really walked into that one.

TJ tells her he got a two-game suspension for Buffy doing his homework. That makes Buffy feel better. It also feels like something he could’ve mentioned to soften the blow back in that scene that shall not be mentioned. If he was suspended from the team with Buffy, that certainly makes the outcome of that scene look more like a careless mistake on his part than a Jockiavellian chess move. It’s two months later and the writing of that scene still bothers me with how incoherent and discordant it is. But, really, though, who even cares anymore? (I mean, besides me. I do. But I’m not well. So...)

TJ’s back on the team and wants to know why Buffy isn’t coming back. He tries to goad her into playing when Cyrus shows up too soon and blows his and TJ’s plan by asking if they’re going to do a one-on-one match or something.

Buffy figures out their game but still grabs her gym clothes to get ready. She doesn’t turn down a challenge, even a sloppily executed one.

Yeah. You gotta at least do a dry run. Use Trash Can Buffy. She’s hasn’t been talked to in weeks and is probably very lonely.

Speaking of very lonely, Bex visits Celia, but only to trick her into leaving her house. Bex has gotten Celia a suite for the night with room service and spa treatment (all charged to Ham, of course).

Sort of feels like: you know Celia’s having a tough time, and you know she loves Bowie, why not let her stay and be a part of this? I get if it’s going to be intimate, but Andi’s going to be there. It’s already two generations of Mack women. What’s one more? She’s close family. It’s not like you’re inviting Gus.

Celia heads off to her one night vacation and Bex sneaks Andi into the house via the backdoor. Andi has supplies for dinner and a newfound appreciation for pots.

Pots. Is there anything they can’t do?

Back at the gym, TJ and Buffy start their one-on-one. Cyrus keeps score. Former bitter enemies! A competitive one-on-one! Friendships on the line!

What will happen?! The drama is starting to heat up and then we cut to--

ASPARAGUS!

SALAD!

A CHEEEEEESE PLAAAAAAATEEEEEE!!!

Can you feel the excitement?! Is it pumping through your veins like so much red hot blood?!

Bex takes a chicken out of the oven!

Andi shucks corn!

Fasten your safety harness! You must be this tall to ride and women who are pregnant or thinking of ever becoming pregnant should get back. If you have a heart condition, you’d better look away! You. Will. Die!

I’m sorry. I know I’m going in way too hard on this scene. It’s still Andi’s show and her story still has to be at the forefront. But this episode was killing me.

I know everything before the big scene at the end with Bowie -- the ring picking, the planning, the cake baking, the food preparing -- is all in service of setting it up. But the dramatic stakes in these scenes are almost nil. It’s just like, a bunch of happy montage stuff. Which I normally don’t have a problem with on this show -- it’s usually cute and peppy -- but when you compare it to the actual interesting stuff that’s going on at this exact moment in the gym? The two scenes are so many dramatic miles apart that you can’t stand at one and see the other. It’s somewhere beyond the horizon.

And it’s especially irritating when you’re cutting away from the gym in the middle of the drama to this fluff. It’s giving me whiplash.

Anyway, Andi asks Bex how much corn she should shuck and Bex says to shuck ‘em all and let God sort them out.

Then Bex just starts listing food they have sitting on the counter in plain sight for all to see.

They wonder if this is too much food. Andi remembers they made a cake, too. Bex says that’s right, they did make a cake! Do you remember when they made a cake? Do you remember that scene? I do. It was literally five minutes ago. It wasn’t even in a different act. It was this same one after the commercial break. But I’m so glad to be reminded. Thank you for reminding me. Let’s remember some more things. Remember when Andi was shucking corn and asked how many corns she should shuck and Bex said shuck ‘em all? That was good times. I hope this scene continues for several more minutes as we just remember those moments. Maybe Bex can list the foods she sees near her one more time.

Terri Minsky, if you read this, I’m sorry. I’m just joking around.

But you do make me crazy sometimes.

We head back to the gym where several basketballs bounce across the floor like Old West tumbleweeds.

It’s also kind of a weird thing to happen in a gym with only three people in it. Who knocked over the basketball cart?

TJ and Buffy trade baskets back and forth. Cyrus is fading but still keeps score.

It feels like this puts TJ at a disadvantage, because of his dyscalculia. This is blatant math privilege.

Buffy finally beats TJ to the rim and puts in a layup to win their battle. Buffy celebrates and the crazed fan in attendance storms the court.

Cyrus and Buffy hug. TJ and Buffy congratulate each other on a good game. Cyrus says that means the plan worked. It’s been proven through science that TJ and Buffy can play together and thus, Buffy needs to rejoin the basketball team.

But Buffy says she’s still not going to. But she’s not going to quit basketball. She’s starting a girls’ team instead. Cyrus and TJ give her props for having an even better-er plan than their plan.

At Celia’s, Bex and Andi anxiously await Bowie’s arrival. He finally shows up, but he says he’s brought a surprise with him.

And that surprise is, a group of vagrants?

Or it’s just Bowie’s band. Or maybe... both?

The band showed up out of the blue and they’re staying for dinner. So. That’s neat. What a neat little thing for them to do without asking ahead of time.

Andi and Bex decide they’re still going to go through with the proposal, though.

TJ, Cyrus, and Buffy walk together out of school. Cyrus thinks they can all be friends now. TJ thinks so, too. But Buffy is not so sure because she hasn’t done anything horrible to TJ like he’s done to her.

She thinks she’s forgiven him but friendship might still be out of reach. Maybe, she says, if TJ delivered the best apology ever. Cyrus asks him to give a shot. TJ takes a deep breath and...

Wait. Let’s stop a second here.

We’ve talked a lot about the acting on the show this season, especially as far as the kids go. There have been several really touching, deep moments that they’ve handled with excellence.

But nothing. Nothing! Compares to what happens here.

If you came to me before this episode and told me that TJ was going to deliver his end-of-redemption-arc apology to Buffy via a super-sincere, basketball-themed rap, I would’ve shouted “No!” and I probably would’ve taken a swing at you. And that’s knowing full well it wasn’t your fault. It’s not even with intent to hurt you. It would just be my body reacting to that stimulus with some kind of violent impulse I couldn’t control. Lashing out at that specific moment because it would be the only way I could think of to express myself.

But here’s the thing. The fact that I not only didn’t cringe so hard that I burst into flames while watching this, but that I actually thought it worked and I really liked it as a moment? Give Luke all the awards for pulling that off. Give him an Emmy. Give him a Tony, too. Give him the whole damn EGOT and throw in a People’s Choice Award and a Nobel Prize in Physics with it.

So, Luke/TJ/DJ Fruity Mixitup launches into this crazy rap and it’s so... freakin’... sweet. He’s not making a joke about it or anything. It’s heartfelt and honest. This is like publicly apologizing to a trash can to the tenth power. I still can’t believe this is happened.

Terri Minsky, I forgive you for all the food montages.

Also, I know there’s been some talk about Cyrus making him do this, but there’s no way that entire thing was freestyle. Some is. He obviously had to incorporate the new information about the girls basketball team. But the rest? I mean, I’ll argue all day that TJ isn’t dumb, but I don’t think he’s some rap prodigy. He absolutely knew coming in that he was going to apologize to Buffy today. It was part of the plan. And if he didn’t spend a couple of hours writing out the majority of that rap, he at least took the time to sit down and outline it. You don’t just drop a Liam Neeson reference out of nowhere.

Buffy accepts the apology. Maybe they can be friends.

TJ heads off, but not before looking back.

Which is interesting to us as an audience, because we understand the significance. But in the show, only Jonah and Amber do. Cyrus and Buffy don’t.

So you’d imagine the conversation would go like:

Buffy: Is he looking back here? What does he want?

Cyrus: I don’t know. (shouting) What?

TJ: (shouting) Huh?!

Cyrus: What- do you need something?

TJ: What?

Cyrus: Did you forget something?

TJ: No. I’m just looking back!

Cyrus: Why?

TJ: It means something! It has significance!

Cyrus: Huh?!

TJ: Forget it! We’ll solve this in season three!

Cyrus: (waving) Ok! Bye!

...and scene.

Back at Celia’s, this odd, odd dinner party is in full swing. Bowie and the only guy in the band who talks exchange stories from the road when Celia shows up to bust the party.

Celia’s upset until Bex explains they’re going to propose to Bowie. And then Celia is not so upset anymore.

Back at the dinner table, they prepare the cake. Before they can get to the ring, though, the only guy in the band who talks speaks up. He has something to say first, to Bowie. See, the band came here especially to see Bowie. Then the band member gets on one knee.

Terri Minsky, you monster! For making the gayest moment in this episode occur between Bowie and his band’s drummer, you are once again on the bad list!

Even Celia’s like, this is some gay stuff going on here.

The band member says the band has booked their first international tour and they need him back. Bowie is honored but thinks about Andi. The band member asks him to come for just six months, but Bowie can’t.

But then Andi and Bex tell him he can, so Bowie says he’ll think about it.

Andi and Bex break off to talk. They want him to go on the tour. Bex says for that to happen though, she can’t propose, because if she does, he won’t leave. Andi says propose and tell him it’s ok to go. As long as he’s locked down, it’s all good. Celia shows up and says don’t let him go in the first place. The argument continues. Bex says they can’t propose if one of them doesn’t want to, but Andi says that’s a new rule and not allowed.

Oh, right. This is why you don’t do joint proposals.

They want to cut the cake out in the dining room. Andi and Bex tell Celia the ring is in the cake and she, rightly, points out that that’s a worse choking hazard than the toothpick she pulled out of it.

They go running out to the dining room and Bex does the only thing she can think of: shoves her hands deep into the cake.

Then Andi joins in. And so does Bowie.

Celia warns the band members that none of these three have washed their hands, as if those guys don’t look like they eat most of their meals off the floor of the tour van.

After thoroughly destroying the cake, Bowie comes across the ring.

He wants to know what it is, and Andi and Bex respond as only Macks under pressure can: with a lot of “Um”s.

We cut to black and that’s that for season 2.

Whew. What a ride. And now begins another long, cold hiatus.

Hey, if you’ve read any of my recaps this season, thank you so much. I’ve got a few more things planned for the near-term following this, but pretty shortly I’m going to take something of a hiatus, too, to do other stuff with my life until season three. I’ll pop in and out, but I probably won’t be doing too much writing, so if you want to discuss some of what’s happened, send your asks in soon. Feel free to send silly asks, too, but fair warning, I’m aiming to just do some analysis type posts related to season 2 for now, while it’s still relevant and fresh in our minds. I’m not ignoring you, but silly asks will probably be put off until season 3.

Otherwise, see you guys on the other side.