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theringers · 3 years ago

Text

friends with benefits - charles leclerc

summary: type A planner best friend lives with no thoughts head empty best friend and they decide to start sleeping together

request: 37 , 70, 78 w charles😃

prompts: 37) “Please? I'll be good, I promise!" 70) “we’re just…friends.” “friends don’t do this type of shit!” 78) “Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.”

a/n: charles, head empty no thoughts just his hot roommate and his inability to keep things to himself

warnings: nsfw, 18+, angst kinda, friends to fuck buddies, oral sex

“Could you uhhhhh do me a favor?” You asked Charles. The fuzzy blanket was draped over both of you and he was about to press play on the movie.

His eyes rolled. “What do you need, my love?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Can you maybe make some popcorn?” You tried to slow your words down a bit, for some reason thinking he would be more inclined to say yes if you asked like that.

He exhaled loudly. “Fine.” He tossed the blanket over to you so he could get up off the couch. “But only because now you’ve got that thought in my mind and I want it.”

“If doing things for yourself instead of me makes you feel better, that’s okay with me.” You smiled. This was a typical weeknight for the two of you.

You were a self proclaimed movie critic. Charles just got stuck with a self proclaimed movie critic as a roommate, but it made for some entertaining nights.

The two of you met in high school and immediately formed a bond. Everything between you two was easygoing and laid back, which he loved. He was never a huge people person or party type and neither were you.

You found peace in each other’s silent company and eventually realized you had more in common than you first thought. That following summer, you did practically everything together. Charles had a couple girlfriends here and there and you had a couple boyfriends as well, but it didn’t really matter. Nothing ever stuck.

College rolled around and you weren’t sure what to do. You wanted to stay in Monaco close to your family, but you just couldn’t live at home anymore. Lucky for you, Charles offered to let you move into his spare bedroom until you could make a decision. It had been years and you were still in that spare bedroom. The thought of moving out and doing something different hadn’t crossed your mind since the day you moved in.

“Do you want butter or no butter?” He asked from the kitchen, hands full of popcorn bags.

“Come on is that even a question?”

“Right. Butter. Lots of it.” He threw the bag into the microwave and it started to pop.

He came back with a bowl full of steaming popcorn and handed it to you.

“Be careful it’s,” he looked at you to see your mouth wide open and steam coming out, “hot.”

“Almost hotter than you,” you said once you caught your breath.

He rolled his eyes and fake laughed. “Hilarious, y/n.”

“I’m being serious.”

“C’mon, we’ve talked about this.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I think you’re hot,” you said. Every time this was brought up, he got so flustered. Which was why you continued to joke around with him and flirt with him. He would never act on it.

“Y/n…. I’m gonna go to bed if you keep this up.” He was annoyed.

“I’m sorry. Please stay? I’ll be good, I promise.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“Fine, but you gotta stop,” he said, pulling your legs onto his lap so you could lounge more comfortably.

A rom-com was playing on the TV and the sound of munching on popcorn was filling the room.

A long distance relationship played out on the screen. Lots of phone calls, lots of phone sex, lots of jerking off to each other’s photos. You shifted in your seat, trying to seem casual and not uncomfortable.

“Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.” You stopped shifting and looked at Charles.

“So much for ‘we’ve talked about this’.” You held up air quotes. “Care to elaborate?” He was known for saying out of pocket things. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he fully thought things through before he said them.

“I mean, not really. The movie just reminded me of it.”

You couldn’t think of a response quick enough so he continued to talk. “You always say whatever’s on your mind so I thought I might try it out.”

“You don’t do that enough already?”

“I’m trying to be more honest.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes at him. “I applaud you for that. But you can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

“Don’t hate me, that’s all I’m going to say.” His hand rubbed up and down your shins that were resting on his lap.

“I could never hate you, Charles.”

“Last night when you took a shower, you left the bathroom door wide open. I was just walking back to my room from the kitchen, I didn’t mean to-”

You laughed and interrupted him. “Charles, it’s okay. That’s my fault.”

“I just glanced, I promise. But I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. And my cock was still really hard after a while.”

“You knew I was awake, you should have come to my room,” you said. It sounded good in theory but if you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t know what to do if he showed up at your bedroom door with a boner.

“We’re just friends though. Friends don’t do that type of shit.” He took a deep breath and looked off in the distance. Anything to avoid eye contact.

“Says who?” He looked at you and tilted his head in confusion. “A lot of friends do that type of shit. There’s even a word for it.”

“Have you thought about this before?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t… Charles, we’re two young twenty somethings that live together. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what it would be like if we were sleeping together.”

“I don’t mean this in a bad way but I honestly didn’t think about it until I saw you.”

“Maybe it’s just the hopeless romantic in me.” You had thought about what a perfect storyline it would make for you two to sleep together but never the reality of actually getting into bed with him. Now that made you nervous.

“More like the horny romantic”

“Very funny…” You tossed a piece of popcorn at him and he swatted it away.

“So, are we doing this thing?” He turned his attention from the TV to you.

“Tell me you didn’t just actually ask me that question.” He was blunt and never beat around the bush.

“I did, and I would like an answer, please.” You wanted to smack that stupid smile off of his face for how he was making you feel.

“What’s this thing?” He needed to spell it out.

“Are you,” he pointed to you, “going to let me,” his finger moved to himself, “inside of you?”

You burst out laughing. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. We need to set some ground rules for this.”

“Rules?” He didn’t look like he was a fan of rules. And as his roommate, you knew he wasn’t a fan of them. Just ask the groceries you’ve gone shopping for two months in a row.

“Our friendship, our cohabitation, you know. I’m not just going to let you go willy nilly on me without making sure you aren’t going to leave me friendless or homeless after.” Nothing could be done with you unless it was carefully planned. All possible outcomes had to be thought through.

“I would never leave you friendless or homeless.”

“Even if I was the worst person at sex, in the world, ever?”

“I highly doubt you’re the worst, but even if you were.”

“You’d still fuck me, even if everyone in the entire world was better than me. Damn I’m lucky.”

“Here’s a rule for you. You need to tell me how it feels. I’ll fuck you however you want to be fucked so you better tell me when something feels good.” Charles said.

“I can do that. If you like something I do, tell me. If you don’t, tell me.” You talked a big game but telling Charles how he made you feel sexually made your spine tingle, and you weren’t sure if it was anxiety or desire.

“I doubt there’s anything you can do to my body that I won’t like.” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. He was a guy after all.

“You wanna bet?” You asked, lunging at him jokingly.

“Sure, I’d like to see you try.”

“I guess I will, then.” You just needed time to plan it first.

He stood up and held out his hand for you to take. “Now that we’ve talked about it, I can’t get it off my mind.”

“You want to do this, right now?” Panic set in. This was too sudden.

“Right now,” he said, confidently. “If, that’s what you want, of course.”

“Okay.” You followed him into the hallway, bypassing your bedroom and ending up in his.

You took a few shy steps around, like you’d never been in there before. “Do you want to get on top or do you want me to?”

“Y/n…” He needed you to just relax and let go.

“Right, right, let’s just do it.” You took a step forward and he grabbed your face in his hands. Your lips moved with his, feeling soft and warm. There was only so much in your life you could plan. This was never part of it.

He slowly guided you to his bed and gently pushed you backwards. His shirt slid over his head and you admired his body, looking at him in a different light. He never took his shirt off around you with sexual intentions but this was new. And fun.

You smiled at him, both of you acknowledging what you were about to do. It made you explode inside thinking about how much you were enjoying this, letting someone else take control and letting go. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, you thought. Snap out of it.

“Before we start, is there anything you really don’t like?” He asked, reaching for the button of your denim shorts. You nodded side to side, giving him permission to pull the shorts down your legs.

He immediately pulled your thong aside and slipped a finger between your folds. He smiled feeling the wetness. “Thinking about us fucking is turning you on, isn’t it?”

“Don’t embarrass me,” you shot him a look and he understood.

“I’m not embarrassing you. It’s sexy.” He kneeled between your legs on the floor.

“Well, keep it to yourself,” you said.

“Why would I keep it to myself when I have physical proof that thinking about us is turning you on?” One of his fingers easily slid inside of you and your hips shifted as you rolled your eyes at him. “Is this okay?” He asked, concerned by your movements.

“Yes,” you said, unsure of what else to say. You didn’t want to give him any more ammo to make fun of you. You told each other everything but this was one side of you he never saw, and you didn’t think he ever would. Vulnerability at its finest, but you agreed to this.

His finger moved in and out of you and the sounds of your wet pussy made you want to cover your face and hide. He added a second and slowly curled his fingers up to hit your g-spot. A soft moan escaped your lips despite the fact that you were trying hard to keep them to yourself.

“Tell me how it feels.” He said.

“It feels,” you took a moment to breathe in, “so good.” He used his other hand to play with your clit, causing you more pleasure. You were looking at the ceiling, finding it hard to acknowledge that Charles was the one making you feel like this. If you squeezed your eyes shut hard enough, maybe this wouldn’t be something you needed to worry about.

A euphoric feeling began to build in your stomach, your legs slowly going numb in the best way possible. You continued to try and hold in your moans but when you hit your climax, everything was uncontrollable. Your body jerked and moans fell as you rode out your high.

You opened your eyes to see Charles pulling his fingers out and smiling. He made you feel that way and while you lay half naked on his bed post-orgasm, it was starting to feel okay. How much more vulnerable could you get with him than this?

He stood up and pulled his sweatpants off, his hard cock springing out of his cotton boxers. Your jaw dropped and you couldn’t help but stare as he stroked himself, preparing for you. He noticed, but ignored it, granting your request of not embarrassing you. The look he shot you was enough to know that he was aware of your stares.

“I’m only gonna say it one more time,” he said, leaning on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. “You need to tell me how it feels, or I’m going to start talking really dirty with you.”

You laughed, feeling more relaxed than before. “I almost want to keep quiet on purpose just to see that.”

He dipped his head in disappointment. “Not funny.”

“I think I’m pretty funny.”

“You are, but I want to make you feel good. I’d rather know then instead of you telling me I sucked after.”

“Okay, okay,” you obliged. He nodded and positioned himself at your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside of you.

You had to adjust to his size - his dick was nothing like his fingers. He didn’t give you much time before he started moving and you didn’t even care. He felt so good inside of you and seeing his body on top of you was putting you at ease rather than stressing you out, like you had expected it to.

His head rested in the crook of your neck, giving you perfect access to his ear. Almost like he did it on purpose, to make you more comfortable. You didn’t have to look at him in the eyes and admit how good he was making you feel. “Your dick feels so good,” you whispered in his ear and he grunted in response.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” he said into your ear, slightly nibbling on the lobe.

His hips moved rhythmically while you lifted your feet onto his back to change the angle. You couldn’t help but let more moans slip out at the feeling. “I think I’m gonna cum,” you said, quietly.

“Let go,” he said followed by a few expletives. His pelvis ground into you, creating a sensation on your clit you’ve never experienced.

You felt your second orgasm of the night build up as he continued to fuck you, keeping the same pace. You held your hands on his back and let moans fall to his ear making sure he knew how good you felt.

He pulled out of you and your body felt like deadweight. You were glued to the bed and couldn’t find the energy to get up. “How was that?” He asked. Of course he couldn’t give you a second to recover before opening his mouth.

“Great,” you smiled, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Did you finish?” You sure hadn’t felt him cum inside of you and you don’t think he wore a condominium either.

“No, but I just wanted to make sure you felt good.” He picked his sweatpants up off the floor and went to put his boxers back on before you stopped him.

“Unacceptable. I’m not going to let you jerk off thinking about me two nights in a row. Especially not after I was just naked in your bed.” Your post-orgasm confidence was showing when you dropped to your knees in front of him and took his still hard cock in your hand.

Slick juices still covered it, making it easier for you once you took him in your mouth. He was bigger than you expected, so you started swirling your tongue around the tip while your hand worked at the rest of him. “Shit,” you could hear him say.

You slowly took more of him, hollowing out your cheeks in response to his moans. His hand found the back of your head but rested there, not wanting to pressure you for more but he couldn’t resist once you fit almost all of him in your mouth.

The sounds he made caused butterflies in your stomach knowing that you were the sole reason for those sounds. His grip got tighter on you and he started to thrust into you when you felt a warm liquid shoot down your throat.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he grunted while you took every last drop. You stood up and took a step back, swiping your finger over your bottom lip.

He looked at you with the same eyes you looked at him after he finished fucking you. “So, uh,” he said. “Where do we go from here?”

You nervously looked around the room. “Should we finish the movie?”

“Great idea.”

You both put your clothes back on and sat back on the couch. “Let’s talk about that.” He never knew when to shut up, but sometimes it was for the better.

“What about it?”

“Did you like it? Should we do it again? Do you want to move out?” You laughed at his last question.

“It was really good,” you said, your thoughts wandering to just a few moments ago. You wouldn’t mind having him on top of you again. “We might as well.”

“Just one more thing,” he said. “Don’t fall in love with me.” He smiled and let out a giggle. You weren’t sure if he was being serious or not, but you laughed along too.

#f1 imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #smut prompts #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #cl

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qitwrites · 3 years ago

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a numbers game

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Kiribaku

(AO3)

Bakugou knows his personality and general rage-filled disposition towards everything, in general, isn’t winning him any favours, but the texts have made him contemplate just how shitty he must’ve been in a past life to deserve a fate like this.

Because no one - and Bakugou knows such assholes as Monoma - but no one deserves to be on the receiving end of unsolicited dick pics. From random numbers. At all times of the day. For the last 3ish months.

“I am going to throw my phone out the fucking window, I swear on all that is good and pure, fucking bull-“

“More dick pics?” Camie interrupts with a wide grin, plucking the phone out of Bakugou’s hand.

“What the fuck else?” Bakugou snaps, trying to pull his phone back in vain. Camie holds it just out of reach, eyeing the disgusting penis with a critical stare.

"Hmm,” she says, passing the phone back to him before taking a sip of her terrible grass juice that smells like a badly mowed golf course, “the lighting is bad and he hasn’t done like, any grooming at all. 3/10.”

“You’re being generous,” Bakugou huffs, deleting the picture immediately and swallowing the still raging urge to fling his phone at the nearest wall. “It’s unsolicited. And his fingernails are fucking filthy. -100/10.”

Camie rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic again Kitkat.”

Bakugou counts to 10 in his head, tries to find that last shred of patience he knows is somewhere deep in his dark pit of a soul and breathes out in a rush.

“I need to fucking figure this out before I actually lose it and track down one of these fuckers and choke the life out of them.”

Because here’s the thing- Bakugou has been receiving dick pics and dirty text messages like hi bby want sex? and imma dick you down gud boo – he’s positively swooning, what a lovely way to be wooed – and he has no idea how to stop it. Yes, he could cancel his number and get a new one, but all of his bank details are linked to this one. He’s had it since he first got a phone in middle school, and now all of his documents are attached to the damn thing. The very idea of going to the banks and the DMV and every other stupid establishment to get it changed makes him grimace hard enough that he decides to bear with it.

Except, every time he receives one of these horrible pictures, his urge to blow up the phone, nay, the entire world, simmers at dangerous levels.

“Cool it kitkat,” Camie croons, giving his forearm a squeeze, “you’re making your homicidal face. That cannot be good for wrinkles.”

“Like I give a fuck,” Bakugou grunts, flinging his phone away carelessly and watching it skitter around on the kitchen counter before halting dangerously close to the edge. “I just want it to stop.”

Camie puts her atrocity for a drink down and pulls the fridge open, rummaging around as she says, “I have a theory about all this.” She pulls out a jar of jalapenos and places it in front of Bakugou. The blonde yanks a fork out of the admittedly cute utensil bucket in the middle of their counter before snapping the lid off and spearing a good 3 pieces in one go. He chews on them slowly and directs a raised brow at Camie.

“Well,” she muses, picking her drink back up, “as a woman that receives a LOT of numbers from guys and gals and non-binary folks alike-“ Bakugou makes it a point to roll his eyes hard enough to knock his head back; Camie’s laughter is loud and boisterous “- I have a tactic for when I don’t know how to say no and don’t want to give my digits.”

Bakugou has another forkful of jalapenos in his mouth when he narrows his eyes at her.

Camie shrugs, “I usually change the very last digit of my number. Works like a charm. I never meet the person again, and they can’t contact me. Win-win.”

“Win-win my ass,” Bakugou seethes. “Do I look like I’m winning right now? I am this fucking close to killing someone, because of stupid tactics like yours.”

Camie finishes the last of her drink, and speaks around her straw, “You say that, but do you know how many people, and especially dudes, don’t take no for an answer? The only reason I give out any digits at all is when I can’t guarantee my safety. I know it’s not like, the perfect solution or anything, but I’m giving you facts right now.”

And Bakugou does, in fact, know that. He’s met those pushy assholes- people that don’t back down, people that don’t take no at face value, people that push and prod and get up in his space. It pisses him off to absolutely no end.

“Whatever,” he concedes. He spears another forkful of jalapenos before grumbling, “So, what the fuck do I do?”

Camie grins, minx like. “Why don’t you text the number one ahead and one behind your own and ask? I mean, in the best-case scenario you figure it out and get it all to stop, in the worst case, you get to yell at like random people. Isn’t that your second favourite pastime, right after yelling at that pigeon outside our balcony, the one with an agenda?”

“Don’t talk about that fucking pigeon,” Bakugou fumes, “fucking piece of shit bird and those dark, robotic eyes. Something is up with that; you can’t convince me otherwise.” He mulls over the rest of her suggestion before relenting, “Well, I guess I could spare a moment to yell at the fucking extras giving out my number to perverts with no manners and gross penises.”

“I find it so funny when you say the word manners,” Camie says as she walks to her room, “It’s almost like you know what it means!”

She isn’t even looking at him, but she manages to dodge the jalapeno that sails at her head. It hits the wall with a sick squelch, and when Bakugou hears Camie’s door shut, he drops his head on the counter with a loud, resounding thunk and muffles a scream into the marble.

He forgets to send out those texts, and when he receives yet another picture, not three days later, of someone holding their disgusting penis in their hand, like it’s an accomplishment or some shit, he sends out a text message to two different numbers typed with shaky, sweaty fingers.

>> xxx-xxx-xxx6 , xxx-xxx-xxx4

I don’t know who the fuck you are, and you don’t know me, but it’s possible that one of you assholes gives out my number to random people who, in turn, send me fucking dick pics. It’s been over 3 fucking months, so knock it the actual fuck off. And in case it isn’t you, fuck you anyway.

Bakugou wakes up from a restless sleep to sunlight sloping in through the blinds of his room, a dry mouth, and three new text messages from an unknown number.

Because his brain takes time to boot up in the mornings, he foregoes the phone entirely and makes his way to the kitchen in search of caffeine. Camie is always up before him, and he gratefully pours himself a mug of her insanely strong black coffee, the kind to palpitate your heart and make you vibrate in your seat. She calls it jet fuel, Inasa calls it death, Todoroki just blinks.

When he’s half a mug down, he finally retrieves his phone from his room and takes a seat in the balcony, surrounded by plants of all kinds. The sun is bright but not harsh, and he takes a second to enjoy it before opening his messages.

He doesn’t even recall sending the messages last night, and for a moment he’s enraged at the idea that someone sent him even more dick pics, but there’s no photos waiting for him, just three messages.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 omg omg OMG I didn’t think anyone actually used this number im sorry D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 no really im so so sorry holy shit I was just following this idea that my friend gave me cause im terrible at turning people down but I didn’t realize they were messaging an actual other person OMG

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ofc I wont be giving your number out anymore im just so sorry bro, god, this is so damn UNMANLY of me

At least the person has the decency to sound apologetic. Not that it tempers Bakugou in any way, shape or form, but he takes note of it somewhere in the distant recesses of his mind.

Bakugou you better not give it out anymore fuckmunch. I should sue your ass for putting me under so much psychological distress.

The guy replies startlingly quickly. Bakugou opens the message with a quirked brow.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 shit can you actually do that?

Bakugou has no idea, but the key to selling anything is confidence, and he’s got enough to spare.

Bakugou try me

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM REALLY REALLY SORRY OK TRULY D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and not just cuz you might sue me or anything, it was a terrible move on my part :’(

xxx-xxx-xxx4 can I make it up to you somehow??

Bakugou huffs, deflating a little. He’s angry yes, positively incensed for the most part, but the guy sounds genuinely sorry, and he’s finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad at someone that’s just being so damn decent and taking full responsibility.

Bakugou I don’t fucking know.

Bakugou just stop giving out my no.

Bakugou I swear to god if I get ONE MORE NUDE

Bakugou I will find you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you don’t have to find me ill come to you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 cuz ill def deserve it at that point

xxx-xxx-xxx4 anyway, im sorry again. really ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get some sleep, so tell me later about how I can make it up to you!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 goodnight

Bakugou checks the clock at the top left corner of his phone screen. It reads 8:31am.

What the fuck does this guy do for work anyway? And does Bakugou care?

He decides no, he doesn’t, because he’s really too busy to care about anything, especially assholes that hand out his number to horny strangers because they’re too chickenshit to say no.

He nods at his own conclusion, downs the rest of his death-in-a-cup, and walks back inside, ready to start another long day of work. Bakugou gives himself an hour before he puts this all behind him, fully forgotten and finally taken care of.

Why the fuck haven’t I blocked this fucker yet, is the first thing Bakugou thinks when he gets more texts from them.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 heyyo!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 did you think of anything????? How can I make it up to you??

Bakugou stop texting me, that’ll be a great start

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I will as soon as u tell me how to make it up to you!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I was being so unmanly and cowardly, I need to fix it!!

Bakugou good for fucking you, leave me alone

xxx-xxx-xxx4 y don’t you keep thinking abt it and lemme know !!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 if it helps, I can hook u up with some free drinks!! I co-own and bartend at a place downtown!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just think abt it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get back to work, talk soon!

Bakugou stop texting me dammit

Bakugou isn’t a naïve person, but he somehow convinces himself that this will be the end of things.

It is, predictably, not the end of things.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I just realized I didn’t give u my name

xxx-xxx-xxx4 Kirishima eijirou!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and you are?

Bakugou blocking you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 aww come on man, don’t be like tht ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 wait, r u a man?????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE AT LEAST TELL ME THAT I DON’T WANT TO MISGENDER U OMG

Bakugou can you calm the fuck down holy shit

Bakugou yes I’m a dude, you’re fucking fine dumbass

xxx-xxx-xxx4 oh phew!!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ok my dude

xxx-xxx-xxx4 please come down to the bar??????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 do you actually drink though?? If you don’t we still have great mocktails

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and I can whip up some awesome protein shakes

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ohhh and our food is bomb,,, I promise

Bakugou do you ever just stop talking

xxx-xxx-xxx4 NOPE :D

Bakugou Not a compliment

xxx-xxx-xxx4 what can I say

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im an opportunist

Bakugou you’re telling me

Bakugou fucker

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM STILL SO SORRY

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE COME TO THE BAR LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU

xxx-xxx-xxx4 actions speak hella louder than words

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I must action you

Bakugou what the fuck

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you get what I mean!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 <location> this is the place

xxx-xxx-xxx4 its name is RIOT, u cant miss it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just lemme know when u can make it

Bakugou I haven’t agreed to shit asshole

Bakugou stop assuming things

xxx-xxx-xxx4 free food, free drinks, free live performance of whatever band’s performing

Bakugou …………………

Bakugou I’ll think about it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 HELL YEAH

xxx-xxx-xxx4 whats your name btw?

Bakugou like id tell you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I need it for the reservation!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so that I don’t accidentally serve the wrong gentleman all your free perks

Bakugou didn’t say im coming yet

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im super optimistic

Bakugou I can tell, you’re giving me a headache

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so………… name?

Bakugou no

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I’ll get it out of you eventually

Bakugou try me

Bakugou fucker

If Bakugou finds himself smiling at the end of the exchange, well, that’s his business.

“So, you finally figured out who was responsible for the penis pictures?” Todoroki deadpans around his cosmo.

“That’s wonderful Bakugou!” Inasa booms, slamming his beer down on the counter with gusto. Bakugou throws a spoon at him.

“Shut it Baldy,” he grunts, going back to chopping veggies. “And yes, I did, but now this fucker won’t stop texting me, insisting on making it up to me or some shit.”

“And this is a bad thing?” Todoroki summarizes slowly. Bakugou turns around in time to see him mouth why to Inasa before taking another generous sip of his drink. Inasa shrugs his stupidly large shoulders before asking, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Bakugou throws another spoon at him. “Because, I texted them so I could stop people from texting me. Now this person’s volunteering information to me about being a bartender and shit and constantly apologizing and it’s fucking annoying.”

“You know what’s interesting?” Camie muses, stirring her bloody mary with a long ass celery stick. “You’re getting all these text messages from this bartender, and you can like, so easily block this one number and be done with it, but you like, keeping responding. And keep, you know, not blocking.”

He can’t see it, but he knows Todoroki is nodding, the fucker.

“That is a good observation!” Inasa booms again, and Bakugou has to resist the urge to fling his entire cutlery set at the man’s thick skull. “Do you like this person Bakugou?”

“What’s there to like, I don’t even fucking know him!”

“Well,” Camie starts, takes a bite out of the celery stick, continues, “he’s well-mannered. Clearly good looking, because you got a LOT of penis pictures these past three months, and that also leads us to believe the business is doing really well, if so many patrons come in begging for a number. All good things, don’t you think?”

“I hate you,” Bakugou says, stirring the curry with barely repressed rage. “I hate all of you. I hate humanity. Fuck people.”

“Or fuck this person in specific,” Camie says gleefully. “You haven’t gotten laid in like 8 months boo, you need to get some.”

“You’re the actual fucking worst.”

“In all seriousness,” Todoroki interrupts, putting his empty glass down delicately, “why haven’t you blocked the number? It seems like an easy enough solution.” The asshole has the audacity to sound genuinely curious, if not slightly amused.

Bakugou hates everything.

“I don’t, I don’t fucking know, ok?” He finally admits through clenched teeth. The blonde kills the heat and places the curry on the counter while Camie brings out the rice and some pickled vegetables from the fridge. She pulls out a beer and twists the cap off before handing it to Bakugou, who snatches it away and takes a quick swig before continuing, “He’s actually kinda nice to me, I guess. And I like watching him be so sorry about all those penises. I may have also mentioned suing him for psychological distress.” Bakugou catches Todoroki’s gaze. “Can I do that?”

Todoroki hums, “You can try, but I don’t think you’ve got that solid a case. Plus, haven’t you deleted virtually all the evidence?”

Bakugou grips the neck of his beer bottle harder. “I fucking hate everything.”

bartender asshole <image attached>

Bakugou what the fuck

Bakugou why are you sending me cat pics?

Bakugou also that cat is stupidly cute

bartender asshole I know right?????

bartender asshole her name is ruby

bartender asshole and id die for her

bartender asshole i just figured ud be a cat person

Bakugou ………….

Bakugou I hate u

bartender asshole :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou Bakugou Katsuki

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

bartender asshole HI BAKUGOU SO NICE TO KNOW UR NAME

Bakugou I hate everything

bartender asshole except ruby. Its not allowed

Bakugou …………………………………

Bakugou except ruby

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

Kirishima, it turns out, is a ray of fucking sunshine. Bakugou has a distinct feeling that looking at him directly would be a blinding experience.

Not that he knows who to look for though; he has no idea what this guy looks like. He guesses that he’s buff, with all the times he tells Bakugou about the gym showers running out of hot water and beating his best weights doing bench presses, but he knows nothing else.

He does know that he’s sweet as fuck, making it impossible for Bakugou to stay mad at him. He doesn’t blink at Bakugou’s cussing, and he sends him cute pictures of Ruby.

There is a part of him, small but steadily growing, that wants to meet this stupidly nice bartender.

Bakugou hates everything.

dumbass bartender so what do you do???

Bakugou front-end development and web design

dumbass bartender oh damn!!!

dumbass bartender so youre like smart smart

Bakugou obviously

dumbass bartender have I seen your work anywhere??

Bakugou I recently redid the website of that protein powder company you don’t shut up about

dumbass bartender ????????????????????

dumbass bartender that’s amazing!!!!!!!!!

dumbass bartender I just revisited the website, it looks so cool

Bakugou duh

Bakugou im the best

dumbass bartender I don’t doubt that!!! :D :D

Bakugou don’t you have work?

dumbass bartender aww bakubro are you looking out for me <3 <3

Bakugou call me that again and I will fucking end you

dumbass bartender before the free drinks??? That you are yet to redeem? ?? at my wonderful establishment?????????? :D :D :D

Bakugou I hate everything.

dumbass bartender D:

Bakugou except RUBY DAMMIT

dumbass bartender :D

“Just to recap,” Kaminari says with an incredulous look in his eyes, “this guy cusses like a sailor, is constantly insulting you, never initiates conversation, and you still like him?”

Kirishima’s answering grin is bashful. “I mean, when you put it like that it sounds not so great, but he’s really not that bad! He’s super funny and confident, and he LOVES Ruby. Plus, I don’t like him like that, I just think he’s cool.” Kirishima picks up another glass from the washer and starts carefully drying it with his dishcloth before saying, “And, you know, I did put him through a lot by giving out his number. His behaviour is kinda warranted if you ask me.”

“I mean, in the beginning maybe, but haven’t you guys been texting for over a week now?”

“Denki, are you forgetting that giving out another number was your idea?” Kirishima mutters, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

Kaminari suddenly seems to find the glass in his hand a lot more interesting. Kirishima’s laugh echoes around the empty bar.

‘What’s so funny?” Ashido muses, bringing a crate of bottled beer behind the counter.

“Kirishima is going gaga over angry dick pic man.”

“I’m not going gaga, what the heck-“

“I think it’s cute,” Ashido says with a big smile. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually be interested in somebody; it’s really cute!”

“I don’t like him like that,” Kirishima stresses, though his cheeks are a little warm. He can blame that on the lack of air conditioning, he thinks.

“We talking about angry dick pic man?” Sero asks with a shit-eating grin. “10 bucks say he’s actually a middle-aged guy with a cheese fetish.”

“That’s so random-“

“You’re on!” Ashido yells, slapping her hand into Sero’s. “I think he’ll be a hottie.”

“He hasn’t even said he’ll come,” Kirishima says, eyes downcast.

“He’ll come,” the three chorus, going about doing their tasks. Kirishima shakes his head fondly and finishes up with the glasses. Just as he’s put all the shot glasses away, he feels his phone vibrate.

Bakubro just finished a massive project

Bakubro could use a drink this weekend

Bakubro know any good spots?

Kirishima’s face breaks into the biggest smile as he rushes to answer.

Kirishima I know a bar that serves free drinks with your name on it!!!!

Kirishima amazing food, dope music, the bestest drinks

Kirishima ive heard the bartender is a great guy too

Bakubro way to toot your own fucking horn damn

Kirishima :DDDDD

Kirishima bt seriously

Kirishima please? ???? ??

Kirishima PLEASEEEEEEEEE??????????????????

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro fine.

Bakubro Friday night at 8

Kirishima looks up from the screen and calls out, “Denki!”

“Yeah?”

“Switch shifts with me, I’ll do Friday.”

“Um, ok, why though?”

Kirishima doesn’t respond, just goes back to texting, his heart thudding in his ribcage.

Kirishima YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Kirishima cant wait :D

Bakubro I’m bringing my stupid friends btw

Kirishima wait

Kirishima you have friends???????

Bakubro I am going to end you

Bakubro you know what? Fuck you im not coming

Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

Kirishima IM SORRY OFC U HAVE FRNDS

Kirishima please come

Kirishima how big a table should I reserve????

Bakubro don’t bother

Kirishima IM SORRRYYYYYYYYYY

Kirishima <image attached> <image attached> <image attached>

Bakubro bastard

Bakubro you playing dirty by sending me pics of Ruby

Kirishima need to weaken your guard somehow

Kirishima pls tell me it worked

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro ill be there

Bakubro reserve a table for 4

Bakubro your stupid bar better be worth it

Kirishima I promise it will be!!!!

Kirishima whoops in joy, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He looks up to see three sets of eyes looking at him with varying degrees of amusement.

“You get a really mushy look on your face when you’re texting him, it’s almost gross,” Sero points out with a laugh.

“Hush you,” Ashido admonishes, whipping her dishcloth at him. She walks over to Kirishima and gives him a big hug. “I think it’s very, very precious.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s coming this Friday!” Kirishima beams, holding Ashido closer against his side.

The three giggle.

“10 bucks say Kirishima messes up the drinks at least once.”

“HEY!”

Ashido squeezes around his middle. “Hon, I love you, but I’m not dumb enough to go against that.”

“HEY!”

They end up laughing and fibbing at each other for the rest of the prep time, and Kirishima feels his heart absolutely soar.

Friday brings with it crunch time, running lines and lines of code, having a mini-breakdown because the stupid text block keeps floating around on the webpage like it’s in outer fucking space, being forced into one of Camie’s ridiculous vlogs and having an existential crisis about what to wear on a non-date get-together with the guy that ruined Bakugou’s life for close to three months.

Camie spends most of the day laughing at him. Bakugou throws more condiments at her.

“Fucking help me at least, you useless wench,” Bakugou growls, shifting to clothes as he throws a pair of jeans at her. Camie dances out of the way and doubles over, laughing till she tears up from the force of it all.

“I can’t, I just can’t,” she wheezes. “Did you just say wench? What era are you from babe?”

“FUCK OFF,” he roars, leaping towards her. Camie shrieks and ducks away, making a beeline towards his closet.

“Ok, ok, let’s get you dressed! What kinda look are you trying for?”

“Fuck if I know,” he grouses, feeling oddly out of his depth. He wants to look good, but he has no idea for what.

That’s a lie, he knows why. He just won’t admit it.

“Well, why don’t we pick something simple but flattering? Plus, if it's in your style, you’re bound to be more comfy.” Camie pulls out a pair of black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a black fitted round-neck tee shirt, and some black boots. While he’s changing, Camie pulls out a silver chain, some bands for his wrists and a collection of rings.

“Do you want me to do your eyes?” she offers, holding up some mascara and an eye pencil. Bakugou shrugs and sits on the edge of his bed. Camie’s smile is soft as she stands between his thighs, gently but efficiently applying his make-up. When she’s done, he walks over to the mirror to look at himself, and he has to admit- he looks good. Always one to take care of his body and his figure, Bakugou is lean muscle packed into a 5’10” body. His blonde hair is as messy as ever, but the combination of his make-up, the accessories and his clothes give him an edgy look like no other. Camie throws a dark fitted jacket at him before sauntering over to her own room.

He continues to reply to some work emails when his phone buzzes.

dumbass cant wait to see you!!!

dumbass just ask for me at the bar

dumbass or I might be the one to greet you!! :D :D

Bakugou I know dumbass

Bakugou what, are you nervous or some shit?

dumbass I mean, kinda????

dumbass it’s our first time meeting afterall

dumbass I don’t even know wat you look like!!!!

Bakugou blonde wearing all black

dumbass redhead wearing a shirt with the riot logo!

Bakugou whatever

Bakugou ill be there at 8

Dumbass cant wait <33333

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou scoffs, his own nerves calming at the thought that he’s not the only one that’s a bit out of sorts. It’s nice to know that sunshine Kirishima is jittery about all this.

Also, interesting to know that he’s a redhead. Bakugou can’t quite imagine it, but in a few minutes, he won't need to.

His stomach roils with anticipation, and Bakugou hates every single thing.

Camie pops out of her room at half-past 7 in a maroon romper that cuts above her mid-thigh, hair done in a loose bun, makeup absolutely perfect. Her heels put her at a height taller than Bakugou, but he’s gotten used to being the shortest in their stupid posse. Doesn’t piss him off any less though.

She gets a phone call just as she pushes a tube of lip gloss into her purse.

“We are downstairs!” Inasa’s voice rings through her speaker, stupidly loud.

“Can it, baldy,” Bakugou grunts with a roll of his eyes, “we’ll be there in a sec.”

“See ya!”

Before Bakugou can usher Camie out the door, she pushes her clutch into his hands and walks over to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“Wha-“

“Liquid courage, my dude,” she says, pouring two generous shots and pushing one at Bakugou. She picks her own glass up and gives him a devilish smirk, “Bottoms up bitch!”

Bakugou picks the glass up with a resigned sigh but smirks back equally devilish. They cheers, smack the glasses against the counter and drain them smoothly. Camie puts the glasses in the sink, places a smacking kiss on Bakugou’s cheek and laughs brightly as she dances out of the way of his rage.

They finally load up in Inasa’s range rover, Todoroki plays classical Japanese music over the speakers and Bakugou regrets everything.

Riot is apparently something of a beloved establishment in its neighbourhood, and Bakugou growls when he sees how long the line leading to the bar is.

“Holy moly, that’s a lot of people!” Camie points out helpfully as she disembarks from the car.

Todoroki straightens his two-tone denim jacket and runs a hand through his hair as he says, “We have a reservation, so I think it’ll be fine?”

“Yes, I agree with you Todoroki,” Inasa beams, locking the car behind him as they walk towards the building. The outside is made of exposed brick and neon lights, and the RIOT sign is a deep red colour, eye-catching and beautiful.

They bypass the people in the line and walk up to the bouncer, who eyes them warily. He’s built like an absolute tank, broad and block-like, and his silver hair shines in the artificial light.

“Can I help you?”

“Bakugou, table for 4,” Camie says cheerily. The bouncer looks immediately enamoured with her before his eyes go wide.

“Wait, Eijirou’s Bakugou?”

Bakugou’s ears burn at that.

“I’m not fucking anybody’s!” he snaps. The bouncer immediately looks at him, and his face breaks into an even wider grin.

“Well, I’ll be damned! Can I see some ID real quick?”

Bakugou cusses colourfully under his breath but pulls out his license, and after a quick check, the bouncer, whose name is Tetsutetsu, steps aside to let them in.

“Have a good time!” he says happily, almost too happily. Bakugou feels his hackles rise.

“What the fuck?”

“It appears that Kirishima talks about you at least as much as you talk about him,” Todoroki observes, walking next to Bakugou.

“I don’t talk about him, fuck you!”

Todoroki’s delicately raised brow makes him want to punch something. Or someone. Preferably both.

“Fuck you all,” he reiterates before stomping inside.

Now, Bakugou is a relatively creative soul – his job kinda demands it – so it’s not his fault that he’s actually quite captivated by the interiors of this stupidly popular bar co-owned by a stupidly nice person.

The inside has exposed brick as well, and most of the furniture seems to be retro. There are large pipes and barrels behind the bar, made of what seems to be pure copper. Black marble covers the bar tops, and the lights are a mix of neon and muted whites, bright enough to see but still bathing the room in an alluring aura. There’s music thumping through the speakers, loud enough to dispel any silence but still at a bearable volume.

“Swanky,” Camie whistles, taking it all in.

Bakugou nods begrudgingly before setting his eyes on the bar.

“I’ll go get us a fucking table,” he mutters before walking over, hands digging deep into his pant pockets. He sees a lanky black-haired guy and a girl with tan skin and pink hair behind the bar, talking animatedly with the patrons as they serve them drinks at a dizzying pace.

When he finally gets a spot at the counter, the pink-haired girl finishes up with a customer and bounds over to him.

“Hi,” she greets, smile wide and happy, “haven’t seen you around before! What can I get you?”

“Kirishima,” Bakugou says because apparently, his brain to mouth filter has decided to abandon him in his time of need. The girl tilts her head in confusion and Bakugou feels the life drain out of him.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m fuckin here because of dumbass Kirishima,” Bakugou barely grits out, fingers digging into his palms painfully. “The name is Bakugou, table for 4?”

He sees it all in slow-mo- the way her mouth goes slack, the way her eyes light up like firecrackers on New Year’s, and then the way her smile becomes positively blinding. He hates her already.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, “of course! So glad you’re here! Oye, Sero?”

“What?” the black-haired guy says without looking, topping up a perfectly poured glass of beer.

“You owe me 10 bucks.”

This gets his attention- he hands the drink off and looks at her, “Why would I-“

The girl just gestures at Bakugou and winks, “It’s him.”

Sero – or plain face, Bakugou’s brain helpfully supplies – immediately looks at him, his eyes widening. “Shit, seriously? Aw, man.” His smile becomes mischievous. “I’ll get Kirishima.” He opens the door behind the bar and disappears.

“What the fuck was that?” Bakugou snaps, beyond irritated to be so out of the loop.

“Nothing, nothing,” Pinky sings, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “Kirishima will show your party to your table. Do you want anything in the meantime?”

“… a beer,” Bakugou concedes because he’s not dumb enough to not get a drink before he sees Kirishima if he can help it.

“Coming right up!”

He waits at the bar, watching as his group of dumbasses ooh and ahh at the place, looking delighted. A bottle of cold beer hits the counter with a satisfying thunk, bringing his attention back to the bartop.

“Enjoy!” Pinky still has a stupid smile on her face but before Bakugou can say anything, the door behind her is thrown open and plain face steps out.

“The restocking can wait, literally the only thing you’ve talked about for the last 3 days is finally happening.”

The guy following him is all tanned skin and thick muscles under a fitted deep red tee shirt. His hair is a bright unnatural red, pulled into a high pony with a few strands still framing his face. His eyes are a softer red than Bakugou’s own, his cheeks sharp and high, and when his eyes meet Bakugou’s, a zip of electricity races down his spine and along his limbs till he can feel it in his toes.

When the man makes his way over, Bakugou also notes how damn tall he is- easily around 6’4”. His smile is shy, and he smells like sandalwood.

“Bakugou, hi,” he breathes, hesitantly holding his hand out. Bakugou takes it in a daze, still amazed by just how stupidly beautiful this stupidly kind bar owner is.

“Heyyo, you disappeared fam, how’s it going?”

Bakugou hates everything.

He reluctantly slips his hand out of Kirishima’s warm, firm grip and turns to Camie with venomous eyes. “I literally just met him Cam, shut the fuck up.” He turns back to Kirishima, “Can you show us to our table?”

Kirishima shakes his head once before his smile turns blinding, and Bakugou finds himself fighting the urge to shield his eyes. “Of course,” he says in a voice that’s deep and warm and honey-like, “right this way!”

Bakugou snags his beer off the counter and takes a quick swig before Camie steals it and takes a few sips of her own. He growls at her but otherwise behaves, watching Kirishima’s back as he leads them through throngs of people engaged in cheerful conversation.

“Ok, well, he’s hot,” Cam says around the lip of the bottle. “Total beefcake. Whaddya think, boo?”

“I think you should fuck off,” Bakugou hisses, his face burning.

“If you wanted to go on a date, you probably shouldn’t have invited us,” Todoroki says, taking the offered bottle from Camie.

Before Bakugou can explode in their faces, Kirishima stops and turns around. “Here ya go!” He gestures to a table behind him, tucked into a more private corner of the bar. It’s large and cushy, and when Bakugou gets in after Camie, he’s surprised at how soft the material is.

“So?” Kirishima says, eyes trained on Bakugou.

“Fuckin what?” Bakugou snaps, voice lacking any heat.

Kirishima laughs, head thrown back to reveal a long, thick neck and Bakugou is so damn weak.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Bakugou clicks his tongue before gesturing at each of them, “Camie, marketing expert by day, YouTube beauty vlogger by night, pain in my ass always. Todoroki, environmental lawyer and a soba obsessed weirdo. Inasa, physiotherapist and resident dumbass.”

Kirishima gives them all a wave before saying, “Kirishima, co-owner of Riot and the reason why Bakugou saw more unwarranted penises than strictly necessary in a lifetime.”

“Asshole,” Bakugou grumbles, earning him another laugh and a bashful hand ruffling the back of Kirishima’s head.

“Still so sorry about that man,” Kirishima offers, “everything’s definitely on the house for you all! Speaking of ordering-“ Kirishima moves on to explain their ordering system-

“You can scan the code with your camera app,” the redhead says, pointing at the barcode on the centrepiece of their table, “and it pulls up our bar and food menu. Just enter your order and your table number,” he points at the large digits on the side that glows a bright 15 back at them.

Inasa pulls his phone out to order. Before he leaves, Kirishima says, “Can I get your drink order before I go?”

Camie asks for a LIIT, Inasa gets a Soju bomb and Todoroki starts off with his usual- a cosmo.

“You good on that beer?” Kirishima asks Bakugou warmly, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, sliding lower into his seat. “Maybe get me another, your choice?”

“Coming right up,” Kirishima beams before stepping away, and Bakugou’s heart splutters around his chest at the sight of sharp white teeth and cheek-aching grins.

“He’s so cute!” Camie squeals, stealing the last of his beer. “And he’s totes into you too.”

“I have to agree, he’s very attractive,” Todoroki says impassively.

“Certified hottie,” Inasa rounds up, flashing his own biceps for some reason.

Bakugou is so done, and they’ve been here all 5 minutes.

“Kirishim- Kirishima, the beer is overflowing,” Ashido says, pushing him away and taking over. “God, you’re so gone for him, it’s almost embarrassing.”

Kirishima snaps out of his stupor and moves to take the glass back. Ashido hip checks him away.

“You’re being a little stupid, go help Satou with plating and take the food to lover boy’s table.”

“He has a name, you know,” Kirishima mumbles, but Ashido simply laughs, and Kirishima feels his neck and ears go warm.

Because who let Bakugou walk into his bar looking like that? Looking so damn gorgeous in his all-black get up and his perfect eye make-up and that fierce scowl?

Kirishima’s heart had pretty much stopped at the sight of him, and it was yet to regain its usual rhythm.

The redhead rests his forehead against the wall and mumbles, “I’m so screwed.”

“We know buddy,” Sero says, patting his back sympathetically, “we know.”

For all that Bakugou hates outings and people and outings in places filled with people, he finds himself having a moderately good time.

Because the food is delicious if lacking a little heat, the alcohol is mixed perfectly and the music is fantastic, filtering through old rock classics with some alt stuff mixed in.

And then there’s Kirishima- tending the bar with ease, laughing along with his co-workers, and sending Bakugou wide, happy smiles that sets his entire face on fire.

“This place is awesome,” Camie whoops, banging another shot glass on the table before knocking it back with ease. Todoroki joins her, his impassive face not so much as twitching at the taste of strong tequila before he bites into a lime. Inasa is already beer drunk, cheeks dusky as he hums along to the music.

“Insufferable,” Bakugou mumbles around his 4th-ish beer. He likes to keep up his grumpy act till his last shred of dignity melts away cause of the alcohol, and he’s probably pretty hit already because he lets Camie pull him into her side with her arm around his shoulder, his nose suddenly privy to the scent of her mellow perfume.

“I love you guys,” Camie beams, picking up her beer and waving it in front of her. Todoroki and Inasa clink their drinks against it, and Bakugou silently waves his own bottle around before downing it.

“You guys good on- oh my god, are you Camie? THE Camie?”

It’s Pinky at their table and her eyes are so comically wide that Bakugou can’t help his snort of laughter. He feels Camie straighten up, but her arm around him stays, holding him close.

“Define THE Camie,” she says with a smile in her voice.

“The beauty blogger that I’ve only been following for the last 3 years, holy shit I love your videos.” And then suddenly, her eyes narrow on Bakugou before she snaps her fingers. “NO WONDER YOU LOOK FAMILIAR! You’re the angry blonde in all her videos!”

“Haan? You wanna go pinky?” Bakugou growls, moving to stand up. Camie keeps him firmly by her side, her laughter shaking them both.

“That’s us!” Camie says. Bakugou finally fights his way out of her grip and throws her a withering look, or his drunken attempt at one anyway. She winks, and he fake gags. “I don’t get recognized in public all that often LOL, this is fun.”

“Did you just say LOL in a verbal fucking conversation?”

“What do you mean you don’t get recognized; you literally have like 3.2million subscribers.”

Camie ignores Bakugou and shrugs at Pinky. “I guess my primary demographic aint here fam. Speaking of which,” she thrusts her hand out, “what’s your name?”

“Ashido Mina,” she says, taking her hand firmly. Camie introduces her to the others, and Bakugou looks back at the bar, disappointed to see that he can’t find Kirishima.

“Can I top you guys off?” Kirishima says, suddenly right next to their table, effectively startling the shit outta Bakugou.

Camie chirps an affirmative, Todoroki asks for a water and checks to see if Inasa’s breathing as the big olf continues to sleep, curled up in the corner of the booth.

“And you Bakubro?”

“Don’t call me that,” Bakugou frowns before adding, “I should probably stop, I’m already kinda tipsy.”

“Lightweight,” Camie teases.

Bakugou gives her the stink eye. “Woman, the one time I tried keeping up with you, I ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and you didn’t have so much as a hangover, so fuck off.”

“Seriously?” Kirishima says, eyes wide.

“That’s amazing,” Ashido murmurs, her smile crooked and dangerous.

Bakugou. Hates. Everything.

“He had no lasting liver damage, we’re all fine,” Camie reassures before diving into a conversation with Mina about beauty hacks and good mascara brands and global warming.

Kirishima leans close to Bakugou, bathing him in that warm sandalwood scent. “How about I get you some water and one last beer? A Hefeweizen?”

Bakugou turns to look at him, and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how close they are, when he sees just how red Kirishima’s eyes are, how the heat seems to radiate off his skin. He exhales in a rush and looks away, answering with a jerky nod.

Kirishima gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze – he’s so warm, his hand is fucking huge – before walking to the bar and picking their stuff up.

When pinky finally meanders away from their table to serve other customers, Camie leans her head on Bakugou’s shoulder and says, “We’ll leave soon, ok?”

Bakugou nods again, leaning some of his weight back into her. Todoroki catches his eye and flashes him a warm, tipsy smile, and if he returns it with one of his own, well, he’s drunk out of his skull and has approximately no fucks to give.

Long after putting Bakugou and his posse in a cab, before which they insisted on paying pretty much the entire tab since they ate and drank a LOT, Kirishima and the rest are cleaning up when Ashido whips him with her cleaning rag.

Kirishima looks at her with betrayed eyes, “Wha-“

“Ei, you better text him again.”

“About what?” Kirishima says glumly. “I did what I said I would do, and I promised to leave him alone after that.”

“Boy please,” Ashido scoffs, roughly wiping down one of the tables, “ya’ll made such gooey eyes at each other all night, plus I’m pretty sure he paid the entire tab just so you could keep up whatever façade you guys have going on to cover up the fact that you have INSANE chemistry with one another.”

“Yeah, the tension was palpable bro,” Sero chimes in, throwing an arm around his waist. “I think you should text him too. He seemed really amusing, and his whole group was a riot.”

Kirishima rolls his eyes at the pun but smiles at them, feeling a new burst of energy in his limbs.

“You guys are absolutely right! Worst case, he blocks me. At least I won’t have any regrets.”

“Yeah boy, get it with that optimism.”

Bakugou wakes up to a slight headache, a mouth that tastes like ash, and a profound sadness that settles atop his sternum, weighing him down and pressing him into his mattress.

He sees the glass of water on his bedside table with ibuprofen placed neatly next to it and downs them both without so much as a second thought. As his brain slowly comes back online, he takes a moment to finally navigate his messy feelings and comes to a crushing realization-

Kirishima doesn’t have to text him anymore.

The redhead had said that he’d leave him alone after making it up to him, and yes, it was Bakugou’s standoffish nature that got them into that situation in the first place. And yes, Bakugou had paid the tab mostly because it was too high a bill to be footed by the bar and Bakugou made bank, but also because a small, minuscule part of him hoped that the gesture would make Kirishima insist on another outing or something to ‘make it up to him'.

The blonde doesn’t even bother to acknowledge the fact that he forgave Kirishima almost two days into texting him.

He almost avoids his phone out of fear alone and makes it through a whole cup of coffee and 3 chapters into a novel recommended by Deku before finally picking up his phone to check for emails and notifications.

He expects none from Kirishima.

So, of course, there are 3 from the redhead.

Bakugou’s heart leaps to his throat and he can’t seem to unlock his phone quite fast enough.

fuck he’s cute hi Bakugou, thank you for coming last night!!!

fuck he’s cute it was actually really cool 2 finally meet you. U didn’t have to pay the tab tho :’D

fuck he’s cute bt since u did, I still owe u. can we figure it out later??? Also, what did you think of the place???

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou you’ve got a swanky place, I’ll give you that. Food was fucking good too. could be spicier.

Bakugou you got cam completely hooked

Bakugou and yeah, you better make it up to me later. Asshole.

Kirishima replies a few hours later, just as Bakugou finishes up a yoga routine that stretches out his back in the best way possible.

fuck he’s cute :D :D :D :D :D

fuck he’s cute can’t wait

fuck he’s cute <image attached>

fuck he’s cute ruby says hi

It’s a selfie this time, not a picture of just the kitty. Bakugou can appreciate how cute the mutt is, but for once, he has no attention to spare her. Not when Kirishima’s eyes are crinkling around the edges from how hard he smiles up at the camera, not when he’s wearing a tank top with relaxed arm holes, showing off bulging muscles and hints of ink, and not when just the mere thought of him makes Bakugou’s stomach flop around uncontrollably.

He barely manages to reply coherently.

Bakugou the only bright spot in this shitty world

He presses his phone to his forehead and quietly contemplates just how gay he is. Camie pets his head on the way to the kitchen.

It takes Bakugou some time to get used to waking up to Good Morning texts and a stream of random thoughts from Kirishima all day. The flutter in his stomach disappears a few weeks into talking to the redhead, instead replaced by a bone-deep warmth that always manages to make him feel a little better.

dumbass kirishima GOOOOOOOD MORNING :D

dumbass Kirishima someone threw up on my fave shoes last night

Bakugou HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Bakugou suffer

dumbass Kirishima y u so mean to me ☹ ☹

Bakugou cause its fuckin hilarious

dumbass Kirishima ☹

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou <image attached> [it’s a picture of Bakugou’s balcony, and all his plants look vibrant green as the sun hits them just right]

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima legit felt my serotonin just spike

dumbass Kirishima thxxxxxx

Bakugou whatever

Bakuguo dumbass

---

Bakugou if I plan a murder can I count on your stupid muscles to help me move the body

dumbass Kirishima D:

dumbass Kirishima at least take me out to dinner b4 involving me in your crimes

dumbass Kirishima what a lack of manners

Bakugou stfu

dumbass Kirishima :”D :”D

dumbass Kirishima youre joking right?

dumbass Kirishima right??

dumbass Kirishima RIGHT?????

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU THIS IS A BAD TIME TO LEAVE ME HANGING BRO DO NOT DO THIS

Bakugou don’t call me bro

dumbass Kirishima THAT IS NOT THE POINT RIGHT NOW

Bakugou lol I didn’t do shit dumbass don’t worry

Bakugou or did I?

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

---

dumbass Kirishima <image attached> [it’s a gym selfie; Kirishima is crouching in front of the mirror shirtless, hair pulled into a bun atop his head. He’s glistening with sweat, and he’s got a more serious look on his face. He’s not actively flexing any muscle, but the pose makes his thighs, calves and biceps bulge. One hand holds the phone, the other is resting on his bent knee]

dumbass Kirishima working on deez gainz

Bakugou what time do you usually workout

dumbass Kirishima depends on my schedule actually

dumbass Kirishima I prefer the morning, but when I take the late night shift I usually go be4 work the next day

Bakugou hmmm

Bakugou let me know

Bakugou maybe we can go together

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh I changed my mind

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima no takebacksies

Bakugou fucking fantastic

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

---

“So, let me get this straight- you guys gym together at least once a week, you talk every day, your stomach flutters at the mere thought of him and Cam swears he’s making googly eyes at you all the time, and you still haven’t asked each other out yet?”

Bakugou flips his phone off, “Fuck off Deku, don’t be a little shit.”

Midoriya’s face morphs into an amused smile on the other end of their facetime call, “Are you being bashful Kacchan? That’s adorable.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“NOOOOO,” Midoriya bemoans dramatically. “I can’t believe I’m missing all this.”

“Yeah, well, who the fuck told you to teach kids English halfway across the world dumbass?”

“I miss you too Kacchan,” Midoriya beams, making a heart with his hands.

“I truly loathe you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Midoriya puts a few papers away before sighing. “So?”

“So what?”

“So, are you going to make a move? How do you plan on doing it?”

“I don’t,” Bakugou ruffles his hair and ducks his head to hide his rapidly warming cheeks, “I’m not asking him out Deku, fuck that.”

“Why not?” the asshole whines, eyes wide and innocent. “You deserve happiness Kacchan. Plus, he seems like a really nice guy.” Midoriya leans forward and adds in a whisper, “I’ve heard he has a fantastic butt.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes and flips him off again, “Fuck off, you can’t say that without actually meeting him.”

“I’ll be back before then. You guys better be dating already when I get there.”

“Stop telling me what to do, shitty Deku!”

“Never Kacchan, that’s what you do for the people you love.”

“Ugh, how are you so gross when you’re so far away, I hate you.”

Midoriya’s laugh sounds tinny over the phone speaker, lacking its usual body and warmth. Bakugou huffs again before picking his novel back up to read.

“Hi Zuku,” Camie calls out from over Bakugou’s shoulder. “You need to come back soon and help me with Kitkat, he refuses to make the first move!”

“Butt out of my fucking love life, you freaks!”

“Can’t butt out of something that doesn’t exist Kats,” Camie deadpans.

Bakugou feels extremely justified in flinging a stress ball right at her. The kitchen fills up with raucous laughter, from his phone and from the person standing in front of him, and Bakugou thinks that adding a deeper, warmer laugh to the mix, coming from a specific redhead might not be the worst thing in the world.

Kiri bakugouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Bakugou what?

Kiri just wanted to say hi <3

Bakugou wth

Kiri we still on fr the gym tomorrow?

Bakugou obviously you dumbass

Bakugou I need you to spot me

Bakugou im beating my personal best tomorrow or im going to die trying

Kiri so manly :O :O :O

Kiri I’ve got you bruh

Bakugou don’t call me that

Bakugou and I know you do

Kiri <3 <3

---

Bakugou <link>

Bakugou that playlist you were asking about

Kiri u da bomb katsuki

Bakugou katsuki huh?

Bakugou getting cocky I see

Kiri I mean, weve known each other for like 4 months now???

Kiri ur one of my closest pals

Kiri I don’t have to, I just thought ud like it more than bro

Bakugou I do like it more than bro

Bakugou eijirou

Bakugou I guess ur not terrible

Eijirou ????

Eijirou did you just?? pay me????? A compliment??

Eijirou who r u and wat have you done to katsuki?

Bakugou fuck you

Bakugou just fuck you

Eijirou <3 <3 <3

Bakugou wakes up one morning, approximately 5 months after meeting Kirishima for the first time, with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His work goes smoothly. The coffee tastes potent and fresh, his body feels fine, his plants are thriving, Camie is busy with her own deadlines and therefore not bugging him, even the sun is mellow and warm; the perfect weather.

The pit in his stomach worsens with every hour.

It doesn’t help that all of his messages to Kirishima have gone unanswered; he hasn’t even been online all day. In the months that they’ve communicated, he’s never gone a day without texting the man, and now it’s like he fell off the face of the Earth.

When it gets closer to 6 in the evening, Bakugou decides to call if Kirishima doesn’t get in touch himself. Because the pit in his stomach is making him nauseous, and he needs to know if the redhead is ok if only for the sake of his own damn health.

He gets a call from an unknown number at 5:20 in the evening. The pit in his stomach becomes a yawning chasm as he picks up the call.

“Hello?”

“Bakugou, it’s Ashido, from the bar.”

Bakugou pulls in a deep breath. “Where is Kirishima?”

“Um, there was an incident last night, at Riot.” She sighs deeply before continuing, “Kiri got jumped in the alley outside by a bunch of really drunk homophobic assholes that saw him turn down some guy’s number. He actually fought them off for the most part, but he’s sustained a broken nose and some fractured ribs. We’re at the hospital right now.”

Bakugou sinks to the ground, his stomach plummeting with him. “Are you fucking serious right now? Fuck-“

“I’ll text you the hospital details, ok? I’m sorry we didn’t call sooner, between talking to his moms and the hospital folks, it slipped my mind.”

“I’ll be there,” Bakugou says, standing up on shaky feet and stumbling back to his room. “Just don’t leave him alone.”

“Never in a million years.”

They hang up and Bakugou changes, hails a cab, and gets to the hospital in a complete daze.

His affection for the redhead, brimming and spilling from every crevice, makes itself evident when he lays eyes on him in the hospital bed and feels a surge of protectiveness. He wants to kill the people that did this, he wants to gather Kirishima in his arms and hold him tight, he wants to crawl into bed with him and talk about stupid shit and see him smile again.

“He’s pretty high on pain meds right now,” Ashido says from somewhere behind him, pointing to his IV lines, “so he’s been saying really funny stuff. The doctors did a full evaluation and said he should recover completely in 5ish weeks.”

Bakugou nods and swallows thickly. Ashido squeezes his arm before leaving the hospital room, shutting the door behind her softly.

Kirishima hasn’t seen him yet, so Bakugou approaches his bed carefully before placing a hand on the guardrail. The noise pulls Kirishima’s attention towards him, and Bakugou’s gut tightens when those large, warm eyes go completely soft at the sight of him.

“Kassaki~” Kirishima slurs, his smile large and dopey.

“You absolute dumbass,” Bakugou chokes out, his hand moving from the rail to grip Kirishima’s tightly. Kirishima’s fingers twine with his own with practised ease and his smile turns gooey.

“Hi Kats, you look beautiful today.”

Bakugou half-laughs, half-sobs and rubs his eyes fiercely. Kirishima’s face is a bit bruised, and there’s a huge bandage on his nose, but he doesn’t look nearly as bad as Bakugou had first feared. The pit in his stomach finally calms, slowly loosening until he can breathe normally again.

“Shut up Eiji,” Bakugou grumbles, sitting down on the chair beside the bed. He leaves his hand in Kirishima’s.

“Ok,” Kirishima agrees easily. It takes 10 seconds for him to break the silence again.

“Hey Kats?”

“What?”

“Are we dating?”

Bakugou startles at that, eyes snapping over to Kirishima’s. He doesn’t look accusatory or hurt or weirded out or anything- merely curious.

“No, we’re not.”

“Oh.” Kirishima frowns, “Why not?”

Bakugou huffs out a small laugh, “Because we’re both idiots.”

“Oh,” the redhead says, then nods. “That kinda tracks.”

“HEY!”

Kirishima’s smile becomes dopey again, eyes crinkling in the most endearing way.

“I really like you Kats. You’re so smart and funny and you always smell like fabric softener, and you’re just like. Really pretty.”

Bakugou feels his face heat up completely, his grip on Kirishima’s hand tightening.

“Just rest, you dumbass,” Bakugou says weakly, his entire body too hot for comfort. He watches Kirishima’s smile become something warm and loving in a way that hits his heart, and he doesn’t let go of the redhead’s hand, right up until the end of visiting hours.

When he exits the hospital alongside Ashido, he feels the last of his energy drain.

“I cant believe we didn’t get to him sooner,” Ashido mumbles, rubbing at her eyes fiercely. “The bar was noisy, and he just wanted to dump out some trash. Hanta noticed he was gone a while before we went out back and found him punching the last dude.”

Bakugou purses his lips. Truth be told, he cant believe Kirishima had gotten so badly hurt so close to his own bar, and he’s pissed as fuck that the idiot brigade had even let it happen, but the sincerity in Ashido’s voice tugs at his chest painfully.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Bakugou laughs humorlessly. “He’ll probably say there’s nothing to forgive in the first place.”

Ashido’s laugh is hollow, “That’s our Eijirou.” She looks at Bakugou again. “You coming tomorrow?”

He flashes her his best sneer. “You best believe I’m going to come by every single fucking day till he’s discharged.”

Ashido’s smile becomes a little more genuine, a little more well-rounded.

“I’m really glad he has you.” Her voice goes all soft and gross as she continues, “You mean a LOT to him, in case you didn’t already know.”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou mumbles, before waving her off and walking away.

Because he does know.

He also knows he’s falling madly in love with him, and that he’s completely and utterly screwed.

And he finds that he really doesn’t mind all that much. Some people, he rationalizes, are worth the horrible butterflies and the too hot too cold feelings down the back of his spine.

Some people, he realizes, are worth loving with everything you’ve got.

It takes Kirishima five weeks of house arrest to recover completely. Bakugou spends every weekday and a few of the weekends with him, staying over more often than not. He fusses over the redhead, forces him to take his medication on time, and cooks him everything under the sun.

“You’re spoiling me,” the redhead whines when Bakugou serves him what smells like the best mapo tofu he’s ever going to have.

The blonde grins triumphantly, “You’re damn right I am.”

They bicker and banter constantly, but they also curl up and marathon old bond movies at night. Kirishima goes over the bar’s paperwork while Bakugou works off his couch, and they take turns making the coffee. Ruby falls in love with Bakugou and curls up on his chest every chance she gets, and Bakugou laughs at Kirishima’s look of betrayal. The redhead’s couch is ridiculously comfortable, and he leaves his memory foam pillow with the blonde.

“You refuse to take my bed,” he grumbles, “so you damn well better accept my stupid pillow.”

Bakugou’s neck thanks the redhead profusely.

It’s new and weird, living with someone for the first time. Kirishima’s posse are in and out through the day, and Camie comes by just as often, bringing a change of clothes and gossip with her. Todoroki drops in with some high-quality tequila sometimes and Inasa brings his infectious energy, and through all of this, Kirishima remains in high spirits, even if he goes a little stir crazy sometimes.

It’s new and it’s weird, going from casual touches to more loving ones, more comforting ones. It becomes commonplace for Bakugou to rest his head between Kirishima’s shoulder blades on the days that he has a bad time at work. It’s normal for Kirishima to place his head on Bakugou’s lap while they watch shark documentaries. It’s easy for them to bump knees and press their calves together while enjoying their morning coffee.

It’s new and it’s weird and it’s amazing.

Because Bakugou finds himself falling in love with the little things. The way Kirishima sticks his tongue out when he’s smashing the PS5 controller during an especially intense game of Mario party, the way he makes the coffee with a sleepy smile on his face, the way he hums off-key to a song that’s stuck in his head, the way he can understand Bakugou- can differentiate between his frustrated fuck, his bashful fuck, his angry fuck, his sleepy fuck.

And how he accepts it all without so much as a hitch in his step.

Bakugou watches himself fall in love, slowly, and then all at once.

“How is it that he lived with you for almost 5 weeks and you STILL didn’t ask him out? Or kiss him stupid? Or something?”

Sero has a finger pinching the bridge of his nose, the other flexing loosely in front of his chest as he tries to fathom the stupidity of two people that could not be more into each other if they tried.

“I, I uh-“ Kirishima hangs his head, “I have no excuse.” He sighs deeply. “I was scared he’d give me a pity answer cause I was injured and everything.”

Ashido looks over her shoulder with incredulous eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Eiji, I know you love us so like, if any of us were hurt like this you’d take care of us till we were better too. But do you think someone like BAKUGOU would practically move into someone’s house to make sure they were ok if he wasn’t nuts about them? Really?”

Kirishima’s face flushes, and he waves her away. “I don’t want to read into it. He’s just a really, really, really good guy. And what we have is good, it’s great! We’re bros. Pals. Friends. It’s all good.”

Ashido continues to stare at him for another moment before throwing her hands up and yelling, “BOYS!” She stomps into the kitchen to help Satou with prep for the day.

They continue to stock up the bar, Kirishima assigned to prepping limes and the ice machine, when the door opens and someone steps in.

“Sorry, we’re not op- Bakugou?”

And there stands the blonde with the biggest bouquet of flowers – chrysanthemums and sunflowers – that Kirishima has ever seen. The redhead distantly hears the sound of a door close behind him, and suddenly they’re alone, the tension positively stifling.

“Bakugo-“

“Go on a date with me.”

Kirishima sucks in a startled breath, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Go on a date. With me,” Bakugou repeats, his neck and ears tinging the loveliest shade of red. “The romantic kind. Where we dress up and get food and drinks and fight over the bill and walk each other to the door and get super awkward before we kiss. All that shit.”

Kirishima isn’t sure how it happens- one moment he’s on this side of the bar, the next, he’s jumping across and gathering Bakugou into a tight embrace, mindful of his newly healed ribs but still unwilling to release the blonde until Bakugou returns his hug, burying his face into Kirishima’s chest.

“Is that a yes?” Bakugou mumbles when they finally pull away, his hands fisted in Kirishima’s shirt.

“In every possible language out there,” Kirishima answers, ducking down to softly kiss Bakugou on the cheek. He laughs as the blonde cusses and shoves him away and laughs even harder when Bakugou’s own smile covers his entire face, bright and open and oh so breathtaking.

That smile is Kirishima’s and Kirishima’s alone.

Eiji hiiiiiiiiiiii

Bakugou I swear to god Ei

Bakugou if you’re late for our first date I will find you

Eiji and give me a kiss? :*

Bakugou I don’t kiss people that don’t have good time management

Bakugou so fuck off

Eiji still so mean to me ☹

Eiji I want that kiss tho

Eiji so ill be ready

Eiji promise

Bakugou good

Eiji <3

Bakugou <3

Eiji :D :D :D :D :D :D

Eiji YOU LIKE ME ENOUGH TO SEND EMOJIS HU H <3333

Bakugou it will never happen again

Bakugou so fuck right off

Eiji :”D

Bakugou im outside

Eiji be right there

Eiji <3

#bnha #kiribaku #bakushima #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #flustered #boku no hero #mha #they're idiots your honor #giving out the wrong number au???#if that's a thing??????#this one's a monster y'all

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katsidhe · 4 years ago

Note

could you do 9.10 and 9.13 for episode reviews.

Love your takes btw.

9.10 Final Thoughts

well, well, well, if it isn’t my old friend season 9. God I love season 9. buckle in.

Plenty of what season 9 tries to do with angel drama falls flat, but plenty of it doesn’t. It’s at its strongest when interrogating the ways that the angels are looking for personal purpose, rather than folding themselves into various suit-clad factions. In this episode, we have Gadreel, Abner, and Thaddeus, all with very different takes.

Thaddeus is the most boring of the three—a straightforward narcissist and sadist. (Lucifer will follow in his rockstar-impersonating footsteps in s12. SPN clearly has a dim view of the music industry.) We don’t care when he dies, and we aren’t meant to.

Abner’s found a family, and he’s let go of revenge. He’s clearly found peace and happiness—but it’s stolen. I’m ambivalent about this. I guess I could take his word that his vessel was abusive and therefore deserves to have been permanently body-snatched, and I guess I could believe him when he says his new family loves him, even though they clearly don’t know what he is or what he’s done. His regard for humanity as something other than a project is… uncertain. Even if everything is as sunny as he explains to Gadreel, there is fundamental selfishness and short-sightedness here. Get what you want, Abner says, and never let go.

Gadreel asks Abner if his vessel is happy. This reveals both Abner’s scorn for his vessel, and Gadreel’s uncomfortable awareness of and respect for Sam (and his bartender vessel, who Gadreel stares at, and who accepts Gadreel back easily).

Gadreel! OF COURSE Gadreel’s gotta be the scapegoat for Lucifer’s release, HAHAHAH. I love him to pieces, oml. Seriously, the Sam parallels could not BE more blatant. I’ve talked about this before, that it makes the earned antipathy between them all the more alarming, all the more visceral. The big sticking point is that Gadreel’s years of pointless torture came prior to his “redemption” arc, rather than as a consequence of it. Gadreel has all of s5 Sam’s despair and helpless anger and self-loathing, all of his drive to set things right at any price, and all of it is amplified by his trauma.

Sam and Gadreel’s relationship is defined by its liminal spaces. Gadreel threatens to tear Sam apart, but he does not, even when he is tortured. He locks Sam away in a dream rather than force him to watch him kill, or to suffer. But when Sam forces Gadreel out, Gadreel leaps instantly on telling Sam he is weak, reciting back Sam’s fears and Gadreel’s own. This reads like Gadreel is aiming quite a lot of his own self-pity and self-hatred at Sam.

Cas’s murderous rage at Gadreel when his identity is revealed is fun. It shows that Heaven’s PR team did a good job, for one thing. But Cas is furious because it’s specifically Lucifer. And the Apocalypse, and all the attendant suffering, his and Dean’s and Sam’s. It’s a personal wrath.

“Stupid for the right reasons…” oh, Cas, your scarcity of positive human role models is showing. Also, Cas’s particular brand of reassurance here isn’t actually something Dean has a problem with. He expresses regret over having been tricked—he says he’s stupid, he says he got played—but he’s never in doubt that his intentions were good. He’s never in doubt that he did the righteous thing. He’s never in doubt that he’d do it again.

Dean apologizes to Cas for barring him from the bunker. (Sam will not receive an apology.) Cas compares what Dean did to Sam to what Cas did by trusting Naomi. There’s a key difference here. Cas’s moral compass is not the problem; it’s his critical thinking skills.

Crowley, Cas, and Dean are a hilarious trio. (Also, I really hope that Cas’s pimpmobile got to Heaven too, like the Impala.)

Crowley being genuinely sorry that Kevin’s gone and his willingness to risk his life to help Sam are the best two moments of the generally weak Crowley-has-human-blood plot line. They feel earned. [also Crowley’s ‘I told Kevin he should’ve run!’ is both accurate, funny, and sad.]

Let’s talk 4.21 parallels! I mean, first, the glaringly obvious: Sam locked down to be purged of something supernatural; Sam suffering; Dean unable to bear Sam’s tortured screams; a very atmospheric fan. Dean walking away.

and then, of course, there’s “at least he dies human.” Right off the bat, Dean tells Cas he’s going to kill Gadreel. Cas, concerned, says that this will kill Sam too; Dean, sounding tortured, says he knows. Now, obviously, Dean doesn’t kill Sam. He doesn’t even get particularly close. But it’s really interesting that this is the first thing Dean brings up! He declares unprompted that he’s ready to kill Sam rather than leave him possessed. Which is both a recapitulation of the save-him-or-kill-him mantra, and an ironic twist on the decision Dean made in 9.01. Then, Dean knew Sam would rather die than be possessed, but had him possessed anyway. Now, Dean has decided instead that Sam must die because he is possessed. Obviously Dean’s opinion on the possessing entity has changed in the meantime: Sam’s hasn’t, but Sam’s isn’t what matters.

Dean reaches new levels of PEAK IRONY when he declares that Cas should possess Sam too. Cas has to actually point out that Dean can’t, in fact, volunteer Sam’s permission. Because apparently Dean had forgotten, lmaooo. Crowley, on the other hand, is happy to oblige. Dean directs Cas to burn Sam’s tattoo off.

The language of this entire scene is so sexual. I mean, it’s Crowley, of course it is, double entendre is his first language. But this theme recurs again and again. Here it is just more pointed than usual. It is queasy.

Gadreel has Sam trapped in a Dean-type happy place—a hunt with ghouls and cheerleaders, no organic produce to be found. And I don’t think it’s because Gadreel doesn’t understand what Sam likes. I think it’s because Gadreel’s aim was for Sam to feel comfortable, not blissful. It smacks of Hallucifer, just a bit—using the verisimilitude of Dean’s louder moods rather than trying to appeal directly to Sam’s contentment, because of his always questionable, always a question, sense of reality. If things were too smooth, too cheerful, Sam might just be suspicious. Sam is easier to trick by proxy.

The HORROR of this episode for Sam: Gadreel washing someone’s blood off of Sam’s hands. Crowley pushing needles into his brain. Sam’s body and life as a bargaining chip as Gadreel threatens to kill him, and then as Dean threatens to kill him right back. The quiet heartbreak as Sam remembers Kevin’s death, as he realizes the magnitude of Dean’s betrayal. But the worst part of it, I think, is somehow still Sam’s face when Crowley comes to get him in the dream where Gadreel stashed him. How his expression just crumples as Crowley tells him he is trapped in a lie, that his mindscape is once again a prison, that he truly cannot trust his reality. The sheer devastation of this on top of Sam’s history, plus the knowledge that Dean did this—and he pulls himself together and puts his foot on Gadreel’s neck and casts him OUT anyway. Sam Fucking Winchester.

and then the Bridge Scene. The lighting, the staging… it’s fucking gorgeous. It’s one of those scenes where I knew as I was watching it for the first time, seven years ago, that it was going to be something. I held my breath and still hold my breath. I can’t take my eyes off the way that Sam is shaking slightly, the entire time. The way he can barely meet Dean’s eyes but he does it anyway. He SAYS HIS PIECE, says it clearly, says it with an even tone despite what he’s gone through, despite the holes in his head that were healed seconds ago.

I love the gentleness between Sam and Cas here. I love knowing that 9.11 follows this. I love that there is no question that Cas will leave with Dean—he is staying with Sam, to heal and support him, even after he spent this episode mostly reassuring Dean.

Dean does not start this conversation to apologize. He starts out with the intent to DELIBERATELY egg Sam on: “come on, let’s hear it.” It’s an incitement, because Dean wants Sam to act angry, so that Dean can feel more justified in leaving. Sam does not rise to the bait.

Dean has an excuse for every point Sam has: I had no choice, you were dying, it’s not in me, he saved your life. He says, “I did a bad thing with bad consequences and I would 100% do it again, anyway, bye.”

And then the most infuriating thing: Dean is in the wrong, so he tells the person he’s wronged, ugh, I’m just such an awful poisonous person, I’m going to burn for this. It’s so clearly wrong-headed. Intentional or not, it’s such an obvious invitation for Sam to comfort him that it might well have been embossed. If this were in e.g. season 15, or if the crime he’d committed had been less awful, I can easily hear Sam’s reassurance: no, Dean, I promise you’re a good person, we all make mistakes. It is the most toxic way possible to frame a potential apology.

The textual theme of Dean-as-poison (and, for that matter, the consequence of Kevin’s death vs. the initial crime of the possession) is an intentional muddying of the waters: Crowley, Cas, and Dean himself all bring it up in some fashion, linking some fundamental aspect of Dean himself rather than Dean’s choices to Kevin’s death. Crowley is trying to be cutting; Cas is trying to be supportive; Dean is both excusing himself and camouflaging that fact in his exhausting self-loathing. There is a complicated interplay of what the text says about Dean’s guilt and what it condemns; this pattern continues throughout s9, and reaches its apex in the next several episodes. Dean’s love as a condemning feature rather than a redeeming one is one of my favorite things about SPN, and s9 has it in HIGH gear.

But, here, at least, Sam doesn’t rise to this bait either. “Don’t go thinking that’s the problem, ‘cause it’s not.” The problem is obviously, achingly, exhaustingly clear. Sam’s spelled it out in this very conversation: you tricked me. You lied to me. You got me possessed when I was willing to die. But Dean, and a fair portion of the audience, can’t hear it. So he doesn’t. And they don’t, and they pretend that this line is some sort of puzzle! a cliffhanger on a conversation unfinished! when it was the conclusion, not the beginning.

image that is now inextricable from 9.10

#9.10 #final thoughts #I have even more to say tbh #sam and cas #sam and dean #dean and cas #sam and gadreel #sam and crowley #sam and possession #sam and abuse #dean and self-hatred #sam and forgiveness #sam and mindscapes #sam and trauma #blahdose

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arhvste · 4 years ago

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☼just until i win☼

WRITTEN CHAPTER

an - everyone say thank you atsumu <3

y/n shuffled reluctantly over to her door and slowly opened it to reveal a concerned looking atsumu with a plastic bag in one of his hands.

nothing was said between the pair as y/n moved out the way to let him in. he placed the bag down on the coffee table nearby and turned to the girl. still nothing said between the two, atsumu pulled her into his chest as y/n sobbed quietly into his t-shirt.

after 2 minutes of y/n quietly hiccuping and allowing her tears to fall, atsumu pulled away and looked down at her sighing.

“ya know, ya really worry me sometimes.”

y/n could only nod slightly as she wiped away the tears remaining on her cheeks as she finally registered the plastic bag on the table.

“what's that?” she mumbled gesturing towards the coffee table.

atsumu smiled slightly and picked it up to bring to the larger dining table.

“samu couldn't sleep till he felt like he did somethin for ya. believe it or not, he’s just as worried as me and everyone else. i had to force shouyo and bokkun not to follow me.”

guilt strung through y/n’s chest as she apologised quietly before sitting down opposite the pro player.

“don't apologise, its understandable, i’m just glad ya even opened the door for me.”

“i know you would've stood there all night if i didn't.”

atsumu smiled towards the athletics trainer and began to take out the contents inside. osamu had cooked multiple types of onigiri. ones he knew atsumu liked and ones he knew y/n liked.

the two ate in a comfortable silence as atsumu allowed the girl to gather her thoughts. the last thing he wanted to do was pressure her into talking to him about what she was thinking and feeling. he knew she would eventually tell him anyway he had all the time in the world for her to tell him.

10 minutes of a slightly warmer atmosphere between them, y/n sniffled and turned away.

“y/n?” atsumu reached over softly.

“no -shit. i-i’m sorry. this is so pathetic i shouldn't even be crying over this, i should've seen it coming from the start.”

ah so she was in the stage of self blame.

“y/n, none of this was your fault okay?”

the girl didn't care at this point and let her tears flow down her cheeks freely as she turned back to face the artificial blonde.

“yeah b-but if i’d just maybe gotten through to him better or maybe just i don't know -broken up with him, none of this would've happened!”

the setter watched as he let y/n let her emotions out. he didn't plan on riling her up. he needed her to get out whatever she was holding in so he could get through to her on a clearer mind.

“y/n, listen to me.”

stopping her quiet sobs for a moment, y/n looked up at a very genuine looking atsumu.

“i get yer a people pleaser and you’d rather take responsibility when somethins not even yer fault but, none of this was yer fault.” atsumu watched as y/n visibly relaxed at the sound go his voice.

this was a start.

he sighed and took her hands into his one and gave them a light squeeze.

“but, i don't believe this was oikawa’s either.”

y/n’s eyes widened slightly as she opened her mouth to object but atsumu didn't give her the chance.

“ah- i know ya probably think i’m just sayin that to stop you from arguing anymore but listen to me.”

the girl relaxed back into her chair, and nodded slightly for atsumu to continue.

“i know ya don't want to look at the picture, in fact its probably the last thing yer gonna wanna look at, but from what it looks to me, its one-sided. ya can tell he’s clearly uncomfortable and in shock.’

y/n frowned slightly trying to remember the awful photo but her memory was so blurred from the strong emotion and endless tears she couldn't actually remember oikawa’s expression in the photo.

“he still met up with her though.”

atsumu sighed and ran a hand through his slightly messy hair.

“yeah but personally i think he did the right thing. i know its gonna be hard to see things from his point of view but, he handled this well. sure, he wasn't flawless when it came to communication with ya but ya gotta give him some credit for going out his way. he has a lot going on right now and the last thing he probably wanted was a twitter war between his fans, reporters, her fans and herself. seeing her in person was probably one of the best ways to make it clear he wanted nothin to do with her.”

y/n didnt speak for a few moments as she registered what the boy in front of her had just said. yeah it was easy to get angry at how the situation had turned out but was that really all oikawa’s fault.

“atsumu-” y/n began with a shaky breath.

“i get that you’re trying to help me but what you don't know is that he tried to turn this on us. he accused me of cheating with you even though his only source of evidence was fake tabloids that have obviously reached for any material they can to feed off our names. like i said to him, how can he accuse me of cheating when he has no evidence but there’s actual evidence of him with another girl and he’s insistent i believe that he’s been faithful to me.”

atsumu raised an eyebrow to this. oikawa really read those stupid tabloids? they were obviously fake, hell, the same reporters had even written a few tabloids linking him to sakusa much to the latters disgust.

“but is that picture really evidence? i mean, from what it looks like he’s not into it and she’s the one initiating it. i’m not sayin what he said was fair but he’s probably frustrated and panickin. i’m not tellin ya to forgive him right now, but try to talk to him again when you've got yer thoughts together a bit more. it’s not fair to argue with him while yer both under a lot of pressure and emotions. i know for a fact that boy loves ya and ya know it too, ive never seen such a sappy and gross couple before whether yer like it or not this isn’t somethin yer gonna break up over.”

y/n hated to admit it but atsumu was right. maybe she had been a little unfair to pounce at oikawa straight away and hardly give him the chance to explain fully what had happened. had she been stupid enough to forget that oikawa struggles with stress and pressure and was prone to breaking down when things got to much.

a new wave of guilt washed over the girl as she closed her eyes and brought her head down to her knees.

“i feel awful now, oh my- i don't even want to imagine how he’s feeling right now fuck.”

atsumu stood up and crouched down in front of the now panicking y/n.

“look at me.”

glassy eyes stared into atsumu’s.

“we’ll try and get ya to meet him tomorrow, even if ya talk over the phone or somethin, but not tonight, it’s late and yer both need to rest yeah? i’ll stay on yer couch tonight but ya should get ready for bed and try to sleep.”

y/n thanked her lucky stars that she’d been blessed enough to have someone like miya atsumu storm into her life.

she nodded and shuffled to her room to get ready as atsumu wandered over to the couch with a satisfied smile.

after 5 minutes, y/n came back to bid the setter a goodnight and an offer to return back to his room.

“nah, don't wanna leave ya just in case ya wake up stressed or somethin, i’ll be here i’m not going anywhere just call me if ya need me.”

y/n smiled and gave the setter a tight hug.

“thanks tsumu. you’re a lifesaver.”

“i know.”

the girl laughed slightly and pulled away before muttering one last good night to the boy who nodded and waved back smiling.

things had been rough today sure, but atsumu had managed to force her to see things from oikawa’s point of view and even take majority of the balme off of him. she was still angry sure, but things were different now. the anger totally directed towards oikawa had been redirected to herself and sakai but y/n could live with that.

the same way oikawa promised to fix things, y/n made a silent promise to herself that she too would fix things. she just had to wait for a new day to do it properly, the worst had passed all she could do now was move forward and the girl decided to take her first step that very second as she grabbed her phone.

just until i win

oikawa tooru x reader

masterlist

part 22 - empty promises

part 23 - atsumu

part 24 - online critic

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imakeficrequestsandthendisappear · 4 years ago

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The post where I try to fix Klaus’ arc in TUA season 2

(((I guess I just am an umbrella academy blogger now)))

OKAY, so we all can agree that Klaus’s arc in season 2 (mostly with dave) was....not great. the intentions i think were good, but misguided. It started pretty good, the acting was great, but it didn’t have the lasting power. Here’s 10 things the writers should have done differently, or should do in the future (as told by me, a nobody). Yes most of this is a long Klaus x Dave shitpost

1. Learn Basic Math: Idk why this is so hard to fucking grasp, but Dave’s baby-faced teenager age doesn’t make any fucking sense. according to the wiki, he was born in 1939, so in 1963 he is 24 years old. the actor who played young Dave is currently 20, so was probably 19 when they filmed.

Why? why. *instert why vine*

like yeah he’s younger, but he doesn’t need to look like a infant. The baby-est gay that ever did baby gay. it puts a weird dynamic into the whole season with Klaus. and it’s not like there isn’t someone else who can play dave....

2. Hire Cody Ray Thompson again: ....like, I’m baffled. they’ve baffled me. This guy had one(1) job, fall in love with Klaus, and he did it with so much charm and chemistry that the whole fanbase is still quaking. he had like 2 lines. like less 3 total minutes of screen time. And we all fell in love with him cause he did so good. ((he’s also a klave stan check out his twitter))

Whyyyy couldn’t they just get him in for season? “hE’d LoOk ToO OlD” well the other kid looked too damn young. do his hair different, have him lose some bulk in the arms and shoulders, get him a k-pop skin care routine, I don’t care.

Imagine if he got to have multiple scenes with Robert Sheehan, when they had so much chemistry in just a short montage in season 1.

3. Knock it off with the homophobia: i’m not gonna talk about when Dave punches klaus it’s literally the worst part of the season. it’s not what i came here for. I want a refund. (see point 7 for notes)

4. Actually make the cult a useful part of the season: like we have hundreds of adoring klaus fans ready to do anything he tells them… could that have served a plot purpose at any point? Could that have been useful in a conflict, or some character development? No?

5. Establish the Ben possessions much earlier: probably one of the most interesting plot points from season 2 is that ben had more agency. And then 5 minutes later he didn’t. I know we have 7 main characters but did we need this many scenes with the Handler while Ben got diddly fuck until the last 2 episodes?

6: Why Doesn’t Klaus see ghosts anymore?: like, he sees Ben. but, what about all the other ones? He got sober, does he just ignore them now? ((guys what if he conjured the spirit of JFK))

7: (this one’s long) Make Klaus’s arc about internal conflict, not an external conflict between him and Dave:

Klaus is established in season 1 to be selfish, but in like a fun way. he thinks of self satisfaction before literally anything else. this comes to a head when he comes back from Vietnam and says “He was the only person I’ve ever loved more than myself”

After this Klaus’ growth is kind of put on the back-burner for the apocalypse stuff. We never really get to see him put someone else first after that. Even when he gets sober to see Dave, it’s to fulfill his own desires.

By season 2 his world view has shifted, he gets sober, but we need more actions toward change. he gets bored of the cult and ditches them, and he barely does anything for Ben.

(selfish but lovable)

Enter tall hunky texas boy Dave, (((who is an adult man))) who is in the closet from his homophobic family, but it’s not spelled out for us. It could be as subtle as a look, or saying a coded phrase. The audience isn’t interested in the macro-drama of 1960’s homophobia, we are interested in the micro-drama between these two characters.

Anyway, Klaus is excited to see Dave, and they like meet and have a normal conversation, where it is eventually revealed that Dave is already planning on joining the marines soon. Klaus wants to stop him but then he realizes (or Ben tells him) that if Klaus says the wrong thing (like telling Dave not to go to war) it would change the timeline and they would never meet in 1968. And for the next couple EPISODES i want Klaus to have to think about this, like it’s an actual hard decision to make. He’s a creature of habit, his instincts are selfish because he’s always been selfish, but he loves this guy so much.

Maybe he tries bargaining, like maybe he can subtly tell Dave just enough to keep him alive, but not stop him from going to Vietnam. And Dave is rightfully confused that this person knows a lot about him, but also like… he’s kinda cute. I want weird coffee shop dates and long walks through the texas fields in the setting sun.

But right at the deadline of “we gotta stop the apocalypse again” Klaus realizes that he can’t let Dave go to Vietnam, even if it means they never meet. Cause he loves dave like way too much to even risk it, even if it means putting his own happiness second. It’s the first truly selfless act of love Klaus does for someone. So he tells him everything, but it sounds fucking bat-shit insane and Klaus has to leave right then and there. Leaving Dave standing there like “Wtf”

Later on after the Kennedy assassination, klaus and all the hargreeves’ are named as suspects, so Dave wonders if he’s just been duped by a cult leader this whole time (but also is kinda sad about it). He enlists in the marines anyway, and this is where we stay on the season one timeline.

But speaking of time-lines…….

8. Use season 3 to retcon timeline issues: like obviously they are going to fuck around with the timeline, because of the fucking bird school and emo ben. So take this opportunity, dear writers, to figure out how Klaus’s (and everyone else’s) lives make any sense, and cut some stuff from the season 1 and season 2 timelines. (and no, Klaus and Dave never falling in love in Vietnam is not a valid choice. It’s a garbage way to make me cry.)

9: Set a whole (or most of an) episode in 1968 Vietnam: maybe this is when they are trying to fix the timeline. Idk it’s just for fanservice. They have a whole 10 episodes and they can’t give just one to klaus? bullshit.

10. (Fan Theory) Reveal that Dave was killed by the commission: the true tragedy of this romance is that if Dave lived Klaus probably wouldn’t have gone back to 2019. They might have actually lived a happy life together. But the timeline needs Klaus in 2019, to be part of and die in the apocalypse, so the commission sends someone (.....maybe not Five) out to kill his boyfriend.

Anyway it took me so many braincells to write this post and i do not accept criticism for free, so dm for my paypal if you want to tell me this was stupid.

#the umbrella academy #tua #klaus hargreeves #klaus x dave #klave #tua season three #tua season 2 #dave katz #fix-it #fan theory #ben hargreeves #robert sheehan #cody ray thompson

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sally-mun · 4 years ago

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I know I mentioned in another recent post that I really want to get back to doing my “shows,” but before I can get started I have a couple of other things to finish first, one of which is working on zines. The one I’m currently working on is a Ranma ½ zine, and it’s been an interesting experience -- both because of working on the zine itself, and because of my own history with this series.

That’s right, it’s time for another rip-roarin’ Sally-mun ramble!

My first encounter with Ranma ½ was on my 15th birthday. A friend of mine, one of the only other anime fans I knew because it was still relatively unknown in the US, got me the second graphic novel, which is as much as had been officially translated at the time. Going into the story with no context was confusing to say the least, but it also intrigued me enough to look up whatever info I could find on the few stray bits of internet that covered the series, and it was enough to get me hooked.

That said, I also had kind of a difficult time being a fan, because I honestly didn’t like Ranma himself. Like, at all. I found it confusing that the author would write the protagonist to be so blatantly and outwardly unlikable, and as a result I found myself just sort of looking past him and trying to follow the lives of the other characters. I was appalled at the sort of things he would say to Akane; his constant jabbing that she’s not cute, she’s stupid, no one will ever like her because she’s a tomboy, his frequent judgements of her body... I gotta say, they really resonated with me. I couldn’t help putting myself in Akane’s shoes, and in a weird way I felt personally hurt by his insults. I really admired Akane’s strength and the fact that she never let his bullying get to her, because I know it probably would’ve destroyed me. And this is just the way he treats her; I was equally uncomfortable with the way Ranma antagonizes and harasses several other characters in the series as well. I loved the series and I enjoyed following it, but there was always this uneasy feeling inside of me anytime Ranma opened his mouth.

The last time I read or watched this series was probably in my early 20′s. I worked really hard to track down all the DVD seasons (which were exceptionally rare and expensive at the time), and once I completed my set, I felt such a relief and satisfaction that I put the story down and, it turns out, I hadn’t picked it up again since. It’s been a decade or so since I was actively engaging with this series, so when I got accepted to work on this Ranma ½ zine, I’ll admit that there was a part of me that felt a mild degree of panic. Yes, I’m still a fan, but I’m not very deep in the weeds right now; I honestly wasn’t even sure if I could decently write the characters, including and especially Ranma himself. In fact, I realized, I didn’t want to write about Ranma. I didn’t want to write about a character that I probably wouldn’t willingly spend time with in real life.

In the end, however, none of that mattered, because I signed on with this zine and I needed to be an adult and honor that commitment. Since it’s been such a long time since I’ve read or watched this series anyway, I decided to binge on the anime again for the first time in all these years. And this is why I’m writing this long-ass post tonight, because even though I’m only a couple seasons in right now, I have been absolutely shocked to find that my perspective on this story has completely changed. My teenage self can’t even believe I’m saying this, but I seem to have switched sides. I now find Ranma extremely sympathetic, and Akane to be the bully.

Although there is still a part of me that feels for her when Ranma really digs in with his insults, it pales in comparison to how upset I get with Akane over her treatment of Ranma. The fact that she’ll purposefully go as far out of her way as possible to paint Ranma as a jerk is honestly something that’s interfering with my enjoyment of the show. She does have her nice moments here and there, but if any opportunity arises for Akane to scream about Ranma doing something allegedly reprehensible, she’ll take it -- no matter how many people point out the very simple and innocent alternate explanations.

With Akane relentlessly campaigning against him, it honestly comes as no surprise anymore that Ranma snaps at her and antagonizes her. It’s about all he can do to vent his frustrations sometimes, and if she’s going to depict him as a jerk no matter what, he may as well let off some steam in the process. Ranma’s situation is difficult enough just having to deal with his curse, but then to also get forcefully engaged to someone who intentionally sees the worst in him? If anything, I’m now surprised at how much he holds back. He could easily be as nasty to her as she is to him, but he actually takes it kind of easy on her, all things considered. And don’t forget, he rarely gets a break from her; they not only live together, but also go to school together. They’re in each other’s faces all the time. I’m pretty sure I’d have had a few choice things to say to her too if I were in his shoes.

It’s even more frustrating when you consider that she doesn’t even have a good reason TO be treating him this way. This all started because of a mishap that was nobody’s fault. Ranma’s not at fault, Akane’s not at fault, NO ONE is at fault here. Ranma had no reason to believe that anyone (let alone Akane) would walk in on him getting out of the bath, and Akane had no reason to think a boy would be in there. I’m sure she felt embarrassed and violated and wronged, and I DO feel for her in that regard, but that is not his fault. If, IF, IF we’re going to assign fault to anyone, it could honestly only be hers, because one could argue that Akane could’ve at least knocked or announced herself prior to joining Ranma (as a female) in the bath. Furthermore, she doesn’t even acknowledge that this mishap went both ways, as Ranma points out himself that she got a good long look at him, too. He was just as exposed as she was, but she immediately disregards his point and tells him “it’s different when a girl sees a boy,” whatever that means.

Akane is too stubborn to admit to herself that she’s the only one you even could assign blame to, too hypocritical to acknowledge that she wasn’t the only victim, and too immature to just let the damn thing go. It’s a really bad mix that becomes the driving force behind her relationship with him from day one. Akane wants retribution for the crime she’s convinced herself that Ranma committed, so she INSISTS that he’s a no-good pervert because she’s mad that no one was on her side that day. If she couldn’t convince them then, then by god she’s going to convince them eventually, which is why she just will not fucking stop trying to paint Ranma as a perverted jerk. She takes any opportunity she gets to show off his allegedly bad intentions, because to her it’s just another step closer to getting people to see she really was justified on that first day. And Ranma is forced to keep tolerating this, day in and day out, regardless of what he does or doesn’t do.

So what does all this mean?

I think this means that this series is exceptionally well-written, more than anything. At the time that I first discovered this series, I was only marginally younger than Akane herself. I related to her so strongly that I was only capable of seeing the situation from her side, and only able to relate to her emotions and her experiences. As I stated in the beginning, I felt like Ranma’s insults hurt me personally, rather than just empathizing with Akane for him hurting her. This tells me that, for all of her faults, Akane is exceptionally on-point for a girl in her mid-teens. Yes, she’s being immature and petty and unreasonable, but she’s also only 16. That’s how we are at that age, and sometimes it’s easy to forget about that once you grow past it. Teenage years are that shitty point in your life where you feel like you’re so sure that you’ve FINALLY got everything figured out, when in reality you aren’t even capable of understanding the depth of how much you don’t know. Akane holds her grudge against Ranma because she’s so sure she’s right, and she’s determined to find validation for that if it’s the last thing she does, because that’s how most of us viewed the world at 16.

But that’s one of the things that makes my revisit to this series so extraordinary: Akane’s not able to grow and change, but I am. I’ll never be able to view the series the same way I did as a teenager, because I’ve had so many new experiences and so much time to grow since then. I can certainly remember the point of view I had and why, but I’ll never actually have that same view again. I’ve learned so much more about the world, about people and relationships, about morals and ethics... all kinds of things that she can’t, because she’s necessarily frozen in time as a character in a story. Akane doesn’t get to evolve with her readers over the years, and it makes for a fascinating snapshot of where I was mentally and emotionally at that time.

I think the biggest and most critical difference between then and now is my self-esteem. When I first connected with this series, I had basically no love for myself and no confidence that anyone else would ever see anything valuable in me. I was in a place where it was not only very easy for words to hurt me, but for those words to stick with me, sometimes for years after the fact. Ranma, despite simply being a character in a book, was effortlessly able to hurt me on a particularly deep level because that’s how delicate I was at the time of reading it. He hurt me so much that I was completely unable to see his point of view; all I could see was someone being cruel for seemingly no reason, and as such I saw Akane’s treatment of him as completely justified.

20 years later, however, it now reads as a completely different story. I don’t share Akane’s kneejerk reaction to these situations anymore, and I’m more focused on thought process and reasoning. I’m more able to recognize when I’m missing information and need to investigate more, more accountable for when I’ve done something wrong, and more willing to let small things go. Hell, I have a better understanding of what “small things” even are. When I was Akane’s age, none of the incidents happening in the story seemed like small things, but now? Now I just don’t have time for that kind of minutia. It’s... wait for it... childish. Because teenagers are still children, no matter how much we didn’t want to admit it at that time.

But that’s part of the genius of how this series is written. Not only did I instantly fall into the same mental trap as Akane when I WAS her age, but now that I’m not anymore, I look back on it as just kids getting wrapped up in their microcosm of the world. No matter how much I get frustrated at Akane for being horrible to Ranma, I can’t not admit to myself that she’s not an adult yet, so in some way it’s me being the unreasonable one by trying to hold her to adult expectations. She’s still got a lot to learn because she’s still just a kid. I literally used to be just like her at one point in my life. If I was able to mature past that sort of behavior, then I’d like to think that, if Akane were able to age, then she probably would one day too.

#Ranma 1/2 #Akane Tendo #THIS WENT ON FOR A WHILE SORRY #might end up being an article later #we'll see

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curedeity · 3 years ago

Text

Fox's Future

Summary: Zeo liked helping out at the gym. He may not be the best, but others could be. (Look, me trying to give the Dungeon kids character again!)

Dungeon Gym was always pretty small. It could fit thirty kids max, and the stadiums in it were tiny ones used mostly for practice and the refinement of techniques, not actual battles. They had punching bags to launch at, and weights to build up strength, but really, nothing that incredible. It was lucky that there were a few beyparks nearby, so that the students could go have actual battles there after some training.

Despite all its downsides, the gym continued to grow, and every member of it was just as determined and hardworking as the day they’d started.

“Nice job Kim! You should try making your turns a bit sharper, then you’ll really be able to take your opponents by surprise, you already have really good control of your bey,” Zeo praised the girl across from him as they called for their beys to return.

“Thanks Zeo, I’ll try that out,” Kim acknowledged, and he could see that she was already deep in thought. Well, looks like that conversation was over. Zeo laughed to himself a bit as he looked over the gym.

Toby was battling against Theodore in the ring next to him, laughing at the frustration on Theo’s face as he tried to hit Toby’s bey. The newest member of their gym was having a few problems though, Vera couldn’t seem to get her stance right to draw out the most of her launching power.

Zeo wandered over and tried to place exactly what was off with the way she was standing. “I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she grumbled to him as she launched again.

“I think it might be your foot position, you’re a bit off balance because you're trying to go for a complicated pose,” Zeo mused. “Just stand naturally, you aren’t trying to do anything fancy, point your toes forward and make sure to center yourself.”

Vera shifted her feet and launched again, the thwack of her bey hitting the bag audible to almost everyone in the gym. “Fuck yeah,” she grinned.

Zeo laughed and offered her a fistbump which she returned before going back to her drills.

“Hey Zeo! Can you come help me? I’m having some problems getting my bey to be as responsive as I want!” George called to him.

“I’ll be there in a second!” Zeo responded, watching Vera for another few launches to make sure she didn’t revert to old habits, before he wandered off to help George.

Zeo spent almost every day at Dungeon Gym, with the exception of Sunday, which was reserved for chores and then doing a non-bey related activity. Masamune and King were both surprisingly bad at doing things not related to beyblade, but Toby always seemed to have a plan for what they could do as a team.

He had transferred to doing online school at some point when Toby had been hospitalized, and it was really useful now for fitting into his hectic schedule at the gym. In his free moments, he could complete an assignment while his arms rested, then go back to training.

Zeo was pretty sure he’d spent more time at the gym in the past year than he had at the apartment he shared with the rest of Team Dungeon. He had just bullied Masamune and King for being a bit too obsessed with beys, but really he couldn’t be one to criticize.

Dungeon Gym closed at sunset each day. All of the students were children still, and Coach Steel refused to have them walk home in the dark. So once the sun began to set, everyone would be shooed out of the gym.

Well, everyone except Zeo today it seemed.

“Zeo, can you stay behind a minute so I can talk with you? I’ll give you a ride home so you don’t have to walk in the dark,” Coach Steel called to him as he helped everyone else pack up.

Zeo put down his bag that he had just picked up, giving the quick response of, “sure Coach!” Toby gave him a glance of confusion, visibly asking if Zeo knew what was going on, and Zeo could only shrug.

“Alright then, I’ll tell Masamune and King you’ll be home late today,” Toby waved to him as he left.

“Have fun listening to them babble about their latest battle!” Zeo called back, bursting out into laughter as Toby’s wave turned into a middle finger.

God, Zeo didn’t know what he did to deserve such amazing friends like Toby, Masamune and King in his life. They may be a bit insane sometimes, but every moment with them was filled with so much vibrancy. He wasn’t the best person, he was jealous and bad at communicating and made stupid choices sometimes, but these three had stuck by through everything.

He couldn’t have asked for a better team.

“So then Zeo,” Coach Steel wandered over to him and Zeo snapped himself out of his daily session of mentally praising his friends.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve been a big help at the gym recently,” the Coach praised him, and Zeo felt his face flush. He hadn’t been doing that much, Coach Steel was really busy with making sure the equipment was all ready and coming up with new drills and fixing their beys. It really wasn’t anything. “You got a knack for it kid.”

“Uhhh, thanks,” Zeo responded sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. Should he express more thankfulness because Coach had praised him so much? No, at this point there had already been a pause and that would be weird.

“Kid, I mean, you have a knack for teaching,” Coach Steel seemed to be floundering for words, but Zeo didn’t know how to carry on the conversation any better than he did. “You’ve been helping out everyone at the gym, and all the advice you’ve been giving has been bang on. Zeo, what I’m saying is you're making a good coach.”

Zeo felt his eyes widen. “I’m sorry!” He blurted out.

“Whatcha sorry for kid?” Coach Steel shook his head at Zeo.

“Well, you're the coach, not me, so I’m sorry if I was like… intruding in your area,” Zeo mumbled, wringing his hands anxiously.

“Zeo, I’m not angry about that, you’re great at it. I’m proud of you kid,” Coach Steel laughed, and reached over to ruffle Zeo’s hair. Like it wasn’t already messy enough. “You end high school in a few months, right?”

“Yeah, this is my last semester,” Zeo nodded. It had taken him a while to get back on track, he had fallen behind while a part of HD Academy, but Toby and him had taken summer school programs every year to earn back some of their missing credits.

“Well, when you’re done, I was wondering if you wanted to be taken on as my apprentice. I should already be paying you for all you’re doing for this gym, I already got a paycheck waiting for you to make up for some of that time.”

Zeo stared at the Coach for several long seconds. Coach was asking him, Zeo, to be his apprentice. That would mean being a coach, but not only that. If Zeo became his apprentice, then would that also mean he was also-

“You want me to be the next Dungeon Gym Coach!” Zeo nearly screamed this out as his brain shut down.

“Yeah, you’re the perfect fit for it Zeo. I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but you seem to already be loving coaching. Dungeon Gym is practically yours already.” Coach Steel smiled at him gently.

Zeo-

Zeo was the worst blader out of all of Team Dungeon. They all knew that, even if they were too nice to say it, Zeo had always lagged behind. Masamune and King were constantly challenging each other, and Toby seemed to always have a new move hidden up his sleeve even after Zeo thought he’d seen all of his tricks.

No, no negative talk allowed. His team loved him, his team appreciated him.

Zeo wasn’t the best blader, but he loved it all the same. And what’s more, he loved passing on that joy to others. He had never thought much about teaching before now, but for the past year he had loved helping out everyone at Dungeon Gym.

There was just something satisfying about seeing someone smile when they managed to apply a piece of advice he had given to them. And Zeo had rarely felt more pride than when someone he had just helped managed to push him to the edge, to nearly losing (and sometimes to an actual loss).

“I don’t know what to say Coach,” Zeo whispered.

“You don’t gotta make a decision now, or even soon if you don’t want to, kid. I do want to pay you for all the help you’ve been doing though, you deserve it, but other than that I’m not gonna pressure you into anything,” Coach nodded.

There was silence for a few seconds before Coach Steel walked away to pick up the keys to his car, and presumably drive Zeo home.

“Coach?”

“Yeah Zeo?” Coach turned back to face him. When people envisioned patience, it was someone silently waiting. Coach wasn’t like that, but he would wait for years if that’s how long it took someone to find the answer, he would just prod them the entire way.

Zeo couldn’t deny that Coach’s approach was probably the only reason he finally admitted some things to himself and came to some conclusions.

“Do you really think I’d make a good coach?” Zeo respected his Coach’s opinion. Even when he complained about the grueling training, he knew that Coach Steel was always fair, and that he knew what he was doing.

“I think you already are,” Coach smiled at him, and Zeo beamed back. “I also don’t think it matters what I think, when you clearly enjoy it so much.”

“Thanks Coach.”

“You’re gonna be great kid.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zeo heard his roommates yell out greetings as he wandered into the apartment. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He stumbled out into the living room and fell face first into the couch.

“Yo, Zeo, you alright man?” Masamune asked. Had he been in the room when Zeo entered or come over to check on him?

“Did something happen while meeting with Coach?” King asked.

Zeo mumbled a few words into the cushions before pushing himself up enough to get out the sentence, “he offered to make me his apprentice and the next coach of Dungeon Gym.”

And as Zeo screamed into the cushions, he heard the rest of his team devolve into chaos.

#beyblade #beyblade metal fight #beyblade metal fusion #fanfiction #fanfic #fox's future #zeo abyss #team dungeon #swearing #just a zeo-centric fic #because team dungeon deserved more time

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hero-philia · 5 years ago

Note

Hi! May I request Sero, Bakugou and Kirishima with an s/o who is very insecure because of her hip dips? I’ve got them and their by far my worst insecurity 😓

Hello lovely! I have them as well and I totally know how you feel >.<

But don't you worry! Comfort and fluff is on its way to you <3 <3 <3

-----

Hip Dips Insecurities

-> Headcanons for Bakugou, Kirishima and Sero

-----

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

• Totally doesn't understand what the problem is. He has heard about hip dips before, but for him it seems weird to complain about something that is in your genes.

• "That simply is your body, dumbass."

• It needs a solid mental breakdown of yours during a shopping session because you HATE the way you look in every single pair of leggings. Or trousers in general.

• That day Bakugou realizes that his most beloved person has some serious issues about her body.

• His biggest problem: He has absolutely no idea how to actually make you feel better. And he despises himself for a few stupid comments he might have made about it in the past.

• In the evening you find one of his hoodies, which you are practically drowning in thanks to his built, in your room. For you to wear whenever you are feeling too insecure about your hip dips.

• Because of its size, it reaches down to the middle of your thighs and conviniently covers the area you are self-conscious about. Perfect!

• Of course you immediately text him to thank him for the hoodie. You attach a picture of you wearing it for him to see that you really appreciate the gesture.

• "Now that I've sacrificed a whole hoodie, don't you dare to say such stupid words about your body ever again!!"

• He knows that this is not how it works with body positivity. But he doesn't have a better plan for making your wear leggings more often - Damn, you look HOT in leggings.

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

• In the beginning he didn't notice how you preferred to wear skirts in summer and oversized, long pullovers in winter. Only for the sake of not defining your hip area.

• But that only lasted until he suggested to go on a beach date to a nearby lake with a picknick after swimming.

• "What do you mean you don't like wearing a swimsuit because of your hip dips? Is that something to eat?"

• His innocence in combination with a pure lack of knowledge nearly makes you smile even though you totally don't like to talk about your body insecurities.

• After explaining it to him, he gets extremely sad by the fact that you don't like yourself to an extent that you want to cover your beautiful figure.

• "BUT THOSE ARE THE PERFECT PLACE FOR MY HANDS WHEN I CUDDLE YOU FROM BEHIND!"

• This sweet boy tries everything to make you think about them in a more positive way, like calling them baby curves.

• Other than that, he respects your personal boundaries like no one else. If you don't want him to touch you there, he simply won't touch you there. A man of culture.

• LOTS of extra hugs and cuddles during mentally bad days. Someone has to appreciate your body, so he willingly volunteers for that.

• Whenever you decide to be a bit more confident and wear tight clothes, he jumps around like crazy and doesn't stop complimenting you.

• "Princess, you look AMAZING! Absolutely BREATHTAKING! Now I really gotta watch out that no other man steals you away from me!"

• The mission ends successfully as soon as he makes you smile, laugh or blush. A happy you means a happy Kiri!

SERO HANTA

• He would never, not in hell, question your body. Most of the times he might be a jokster, but he knows that he is in no position to judge or even joke about such a topic.

• After you had spilled about your insecurities, he consulted Mina because he had no idea what 'hip dips' were.

• Not gonna lie, he is shook by the amount of terms that girls have to describe their body. Especially to discriminate themselves by using these words.

• "Jokes on you, but you could call them valleys of hell and I would still love you!"

• Helplessly overwhelmed with the situation, if you have such a bad day that his jokes don't work. Guess, who will hang on the ceiling a few seconds later to pretend to be a stupid version of Spiderman.

• He LOVES to let his fingers trial along your shape during cuddle sessions. Just feeling you underneath his finger tips makes him so happy.

• The master of comedy! Sometimes he performs an overly dramatic and fully improvised play in your room without worrying about making a fool of himself.

• "OH LORD, I WISH I HAD HIP DIPS TO IMPROVE MY HULA HOOP SKILLS! OH, IF I JUST HAD SUCH MIGHTY HIP DIPS LIKE MY WONDERFUL GIRLFRIEND!"

• Those overly dramatic scenes never fail to make you laugh, despite usually hating the mentioned part of your body.

• His efforts help you a lot to have memories that you immediately remember as soon as you are criticizing your hip dips. You can't help it but think of Sero performing his plays.

-----

Posted: January 31st | Requests: Open | Match-ups: Closed

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oldsoldierr · 5 years ago

Text

The Carnation ~ Part 2

summary: the media always told you that the famous art critic bucky barnes is an arrogant, rude playboy and you agree, but something still draws you to him. is there a deeper reason to why he acts the way he does or is he the class A jackass you first met?

art critic!bucky x artist!reader

word count: about 2.1k

series masterlist ~ part 1

After your startling realization that you just might have a crush on a certain Bucky Barnes, you tried your best to just ignore it. You told yourself that your feelings would go away after not seeing him for the rest of your life. You just assumed that after he left that day it would be the end of it.

But then he did the worst thing you could’ve possibly imagined. He came back to the studio. Everyday in fact. You had never known someone so frustrating.

Every day he’d come in, insult something, and sit on whichever side of you wasn’t occupied by Steve. Bucky would just sit there annoying you for however long he was there, occasionally walking over to Sharon’s area or making conversation with Steve. How did this busy man always find time to be the worst?

One time after a particularly rough day, you complained, “Why won’t you just sit by Steve?” He just smiled at you innocently.

“Well, how’m I supposed to bother you when you’re a whole seat away from me?” You stared at him blankly for a good 5 minutes. You lost 12 brain cells that day.

You decided you’d need a new plan once you realized he actually wasn’t going anywhere. After considering hiring some pest patrol or just hitting him with a brush you decided on just trying to avoid him.

It’s too bad that it was near impossible because, not only did he insist on moving seats to wherever you moved, but after a couple of weeks of Bucky coming to the art studio, Steve had to leave town for some business meetings.

“It’s gonna be fine!” Steve insisted.

Your car reached the airport.

“You guys know each other well enough to be by yourselves for two weeks.”

“I do not! We’re barely acquaintances! All he does in the studio is bother me or flirt,” you retorted. “I legitimately don’t think he’s picked one pencil up since he first started coming.”

“That’s not true! He picked up a pencil once to throw it at you,” he pointed out. You barked out a laugh.

“Really helping your case here,” you said sarcastically.

“Hey,” Steve looked at you and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “It’s gonna be okay.” You took a deep breath.

“I really hope so.” You gave the blonde a nervous smile.

“Anyways, I don’t matter right now. Go be amazing at your meeting and when you get the client you have to give me half the money!” You changed the subject.

“Fuck no!” Steve laughed. You continued to chat as you parked the car and began helping Steve get out his luggage. With each second the realization that you weren’t going to see Steve for 14 days hit you harder. Once his suitcases were all out you gave him a bittersweet look.

“I’m really gonna miss you.” You engulfed him in a hug. He hugged back.

“It’s only for two weeks and I’ll call you,” he soothed. You pulled away and rocked back and forth on your heels.

“You promise?” The blonde chuckled.

“Mhm, I’ll even pinky promise,” he said with a teasing smile. You gave him a faux pout.

“You’re mean. I change my mind. I’m not gonna miss you.” You jokingly walked away but you knew you were only trying to delay him leaving. Steve caught on.

“Well, I gotta go now y/n/n,” he said. You sighed.

“I know…” You acknowledged sadly but didn’t show your true emotions for long.

“Good luck! Go kick ass!” You continued with forced excitement.

He put his hands on each side of your shoulders.

“It’s really gonna be okay,” he assured. He turned around and started walking to the airport.

You nodded as Steve left. But your smile dropped as soon as you were out of his view. Steve had been your only friend since you moved to Brooklyn and had never been without him this long. You massaged the bridge of your nose.

How the fuck am I gonna survive this?

~~~

If you’re being honest, your drive back was rather depressing. You didn’t even bother turning on the radio. You just drove with a tight expression on your face trying to make your anxieties go away, but they just wouldn’t stop. Your brain was pounding.

You had sulk-driven in silence around a third of the way back without even noticing. That’s when you felt your phone vibrate and the familiar chiming ringtone of a call.

You glanced down quickly at the screen to see an unknown number. You thought about just ignoring it since you got spam often and you know, you were driving. It probably would’ve been the wiser thing to do but you were bored and miserable so you thought, what the hell. You heard the beep as you pressed the accept call button.

“Hello?” You half expected to get an automated message telling you that you had won an amazon gift card and that you needed to tell them your credit card number immediately. Instead, it was a rich, deep voice you had heard far too many times before.

“Hey y/n,” Your eyes widened so much you were afraid they might fall out.

“Bucky?” you choked out. You could practically see his smug little face.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied obediently. There was an unending amount of thoughts swirling through your head faster than you could calculate. The first question that entered your mind was, “How did you get this number?” Something rustled from the other end before bucky responded.

“I hacked into your phone and took it,” He said sarcastically. You raised your eyebrows.

“Haha, very funny. But seriously, did Steve give it to you?” Bucky hesitated and answered.

“Yeah.--” He selected his words with caution. “--...he thought you might need some company.” From the deliberate phrasing he chose, you deduced that Steve had told him about you being a lonely fuck. You internally groaned.

“S’ one way to put it,” you mumbled. “Thank you for your consideration but I don’t feel like being pitied right now.” Bucky fake laughed.

“Like I’d ever pity you,” he said like it was a hilarious joke.

“It’s more babysitting.” You suddenly remembered you were talking to Bucky Barnes and bit your lip in exasperation.

“Fuck you, Bucky,” you snapped back. You knew you had made a mistake far too late.

“Only if you want me too,” he sang back, overjoyed at the opportunity to make the joke.

You threatened, “I will hang up your ass faster than you can say pumpkin pie is the worst pie.” The brunette fucking laughed.

“Mmm, so first of all, it’s not, it’s the best thing on earth, and second, then why haven’t you hung up yet?” You didn’t really have an answer to give him that wasn’t “I love your voice and I want to kiss you”. You swiftly came up with an excuse.

“Cause I need to drive idiot.”

More noise erupted from Bucky’s side. Your eyes narrowed, confused.

“Where are you right now? It sounds like a zoo on your end.” You heard the brunette talking to someone before he returned to you.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m at an art museum.” You scrunched your brows together. What’s he doing at an art museum at 11:30pm? You wondered. You felt like you had heard something about this before, but couldn’t put your finger on it. Another couple seconds of idle insults were held between the two of you. Then, as if to answer you you hear someone distantly say, “Thank you for coming to the Party in the Garden, please take a…” You gasp. That’s what you were trying to remember!

“You’re at the fucking biggest MoMA fundraiser of the year and you’re talking to me? You’re so much dumber than I thought you were.” This man was truly unbelievable. But you had to admit it did feel nice that he was blowing off the party for you.

“There are some really important people there, what are you doing on your phone?” you scolded. He hummed in response.

“In my defense, it’s kind of your fault I’m on my phone.” Bucky pointed out.

“I-- wh-” you stuttered at this guy’s nerve. “How is it my fault? You called me!”

“Yeah cause you don’t have any friends. That’s why Steve made me call you, right?” Bucky sneered. From his tone, it seemed like he realized how much that hurt you. This fucking man. Your voice rose.

“Oh, I don’t have any friends? Like you can talk, the person with only fake friends.” You said defensively. “None of them actually like you, they like your status, you know,” You snapped in return. By his silence, clearly you had struck a chord with him. This conversation went from 1 to 100 real quick. He grunted.

“At least I even have fake friends. Do YOU have any? Oh that's right, you don’t, you’re all. fucking. Alone. And I don’t doubt for a minute that you deserve it,” he bit back. Oh, he was gonna be like that. You scoffed before going off.

“Oh I deserve it? Look at yourself. You always pretend you’re the best, walk around like you're royalty. Well, I’ve seen how you really are, you aren’t worth a damn thing.” Bucky went to interrupt but you weren’t done. “You’re an insecure, cowardly bitch who insults others to make yourself feel better about yourself. Do you wanna know what people say behind your back? They say you’re annoying and arrogant. A selfish ass playboy who doesn’t deserve a fucking thing he gets, goddamn cuck,” You exploded, taking a deep breath.

There were so many emotions rocking around your head it was getting hard to think clearly. Cars beeped at you as you began to drift. The phone was silent before Bucky spoke again. It was surprisingly quiet and vulnerable.

“That’s what you think?” You realized what you had said.

“I-- no-I didn’t--” This time he cut you off.

“It’s fine,” he replied sharply. “I understand--” He let out a breath.

“I won’t bother you again.”

“No, wait--!” With a loud beep, the line went dead.

You groaned.

Shit.

You hit your hand on the dashboard.

Stupid, stupid, you scolded yourself.

You tried to make excuses for saying those things but you couldn’t. Most of them weren’t even true. You felt like a monster. You yelled in frustration. You couldn’t even call anyone to talk about it. Steve was on a plane and your other friends were asleep in your hometown. You wished you had never answered that call. You wished you hadn’t been such an idiot.

The rest of the ride back felt even colder than it had beforehand. The busy city of Brooklyn passed you by. The lights and the noise you had dreamed about as a kid felt dull and melancholic.

Fuck the American dream.

You arrived at your apartment around an hour later. You pulled up in front of the building and walked up to your floor like there was a pile of bricks on your back. You fiddled with your keys before finding the right one and walked inside your apartment. You collapsed onto the couch and screamed into a cushion.

I should call him back and apologize, you thought. But from the little time you spent with Bucky Barnes, you knew he didn’t forgive that easily.

How did this all go to shit so fast? Your conversation had started so nicely. Maybe even playfully flirty if you squinted.

You didn’t get a chance to wallow in your self-pity for long as your phone rang again for the second time that night. You grabbed hopefully at the phone thinking it might be Bucky, but it wasn’t. Your wishful thinking seemed it was just that cause it was another random number.

You placed it face down back on the couch and let it ring out. For half a minute the ringtone that you began to resent sang it’s melody. You didn’t have the heart to stop it though, as it went to voicemail. You were planning on completely ignoring it but your conscience wouldn’t let you. What if it was important?

You sighed as you unlocked your phone and clicked on the play button on the voicemail. As the person on the other side kept speaking, you felt like your heart was going further into your throat. You couldn’t breathe and your hands shook.

“Ms. y/l/n, this is NYU Langone Health, you need to come to the hospital as soon as possible. James Buchanan Barnes has been in an accident.”

writing this series is pretty fun but i miss going outside and seeing real people :’)

series masterlist

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calliope-love-corner · 4 years ago

Text

Insomnia

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Up late again, are we?"

I nearly jump out of my skin at the sudden unexpected voice. Never a dull day in this house.

"CHRIST, Annabelle, you have GOT to stop doing that!" I scold the silhouette against my dark bedroom window, clutching my blankets in tight balled fists, heart pounding. I'd bolted upright from where I'd been comfortably laying down in my bed, a position I had held for the past several hours. I held my phone close to my chest, where it had once hung loosely in my hands, bright screen angled down to my face. Annabelle gave a low, amused chuckle, and folded her arms, leaning on the windowsil.

"Mm. Don't you have an early shift tomorrow?" She asked coyly, ignoring my protests. My heart finally steadying itself, I rub my eyes, trying to adjust them to the dark of my bedroom. She was right- I had to go in at 8 tomorrow- or today, rather, as it was already just past 2am.

"Don't YOU have something to do other than sneak into my room at night!?" I huff, only really half annoyed at her. This wasn't the first time she seemed to pop up out of nowhere. "Seriously, how did you even get IN here?"

I saw her dark outline shrug. "Oh, you know. Dark apartment, bright screen, quiet footsteps. I can just slip right in, and most of the time, you're too preoccupied to notice."

Fair enough. How she got into my apartment in the first place I suppose ill never know, but I guess a girl's gotta have her secrets. I sigh.

"Whatever. Just. Keep the spiders out of here right now."

"Awe, why?" She prods, adding just enough whine to her tone to make her seem a little bit genuinely disappointed. I know her better than that, though, and she knows that she can't play me that easy. She probably already is playing me, though, in some roundabout way. There was something about the web- their girls always knew how to play the long game, and I was always just along for the ride.

"You don't even know they're there! Too dark to see, and ignorance is bliss, is it not?"

I nervously look around in the darkness, trying to scout any sign of hairy legs or scuttling movement. "I think it's the not knowing that's the worst part, honestly."

"If you insist. Fine, I'll leave your room spider-free. For now."

I could almost hear her wink. I let myself relax a little- as much as one can around someone notorious for their manipulation skills. She'd ways been kind to me, though, and even if at the beginning id been extra-cautious about sniffing out ulterior motives, her presence had become sort of a routine for me. I'd let my guard down. I was playing a dangerous game, and I knew that, and part of me was just waiting for the day she decided she'd gotten what she needed from me and betrayed me. Until then, though, she was just too damn charming.

"Thanks. I guess." I purse my lips, well aware that not setting a horde of spiders loose in someone's bedroom was the bare minimum requirement for politeness. Annabelle laughed again.

"You're funny. So, what's keeping you up, then?" She moves to sit down at the edge of my bed, tucking her retro skirt under her legs as she set her slender form on the mattress. Her weight was barely enough to shift the bed at all. I scoot away, either to give her room to sit, or to put a little more space between her and I. I could not confidently tell you which one. I set my phone down on my pillow and crossed my legs.

"Dunno. Can't sleep, don't want to? Something like that." I tuck my legs up, resting my chin on my knees. "I guess I probably could, but I've been taking a lot of benadryl lately, and it'll make me lag in the morning."

"Oh, well, that's nothing one of your fancy energy drinks can't fix, no?"

"I guess not. I mean, ill be tired no matter what, and a monster will always get me going, but I sorta have to get out of bed in the first place to drink one."

"And that's the hardest part then, isn't it."

"Mm."

This is far too mundane for her to want to really talk about. I wonder why she's really here.

"Guess you have a choice to make, then. Wait 'till you get tired naturally, which could take ages, knowing you- or make yourself sleep and face the consequences in the morning."

I flop back down onto my mountain of pillows, and grumble. "I'm shit at decisions. No matter how simple."

Annabelle laughed again, sweet and genuine and low in her throat. I smile a little. "It's true. You can never make up your mind, can you? Always have to stop and think."

"Mm," I agree. "If you asked me who I would save if my mom and my best friend were hanging off the edge of a cliff, I think I'd just fucking throw myself off."

Another laugh from my visitor. I feel proud of myself for amusing her, a reminder of my place in nearly every friend group I've ever been in as 'the funny one' since as long as I can remember. It feels good to make people laugh.

"So hard on yourself today." She poses the thought in a way that's more fond and inquisitive than accusatory. "Why?"

I crack my knuckles one at a time absentmindedly. "Well, I'm still switching over my medication, so I've felt pretty weird all day. Spacey. More dissociative than usual."

"Oh?"

"Mm. Mirrors have been especially unkind to me today." I continue. "The caffeine probably didn't help either. It's been all spiraling thoughts and impulse ideas and such since I woke up, really."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. I was feeling fine last week though. Parents want me to wait until I'm all switched over before asking to go back on my 20-dose in the morning, but I think I've already decided that's what I wanna do."

I glance over at her sharp brown eyes, that look almost burgundy in just the right light. They're quite freaky, really. Now that my vision has adjusted to the dark, I see her intently looking down at me, as if hung on every word I say.

"Also," I start, realizing how long I've gone on for. "You are FAR too good at making me talk."

"Hah," she smiles. "Maybe consider: you just talk a lot?"

"True. Never been good at shutting up."

"Or maybe I just like listening! Who's to say?" She gives a coy shrug. I squint at her, the traces of a grin tugging at my lips.

"Who's to say." I repeat with a sort of finality, finding myself enamored with the moment. The moment of pause between her next speaking point seems to stretch on for hours before she finally makes the call to break the silence.

"You know," she starts, with that voice of hers that I could never seem to tune out. "I've not really minded our chats lately, really! You're very funny."

"First of all, I know," I accept the compliment. "Second of all, you minded before?"

I'm not exactly hurt by the revelation, per se, more surprised that she's even acknowledged a change in her out attitude out loud. If her attitude has changed at all. I'm not stupid- I know what the web does. I know I can never truly, wholly believe anything she says. But I can choose to try, if just for now.

"Sure," she shrugs. "Most of the time, when I talk to people- especially any of you assistants, good lord- it's busywork. Chores to do, to check off the list. But lately, I've found myself looking forward to our visits. Isn't that strange?"

Always turning things into a question for me to answer. Always trying to get something more out of me. Information, my thoughts. She needs to know how I feel. What I'm feeling now, how I felt earlier, how I'll feel later, how I feel about her. I'm a puzzle piece. I'm a pawn in a big, web-infested game of chess, but my heart still skips a beat when she tells me she actually sort of likes spending time with me, even if she is lying. She probably is.

I decide not to give her the satisfaction of telling her how I feel with this one.

"Personally, I think I'd look forward to them a lot more if you didn't scare the absolute shit out of me every fuckin' time."

She laughs again. "Oh, come on, now. I have to do something to keep in interesting, right? Have to keep you on your toes somehow. If you expect me, I become SIGNIFIFANTLY less scary."

That was true enough. I really didn't mind the occasional jumpscare, to be honest. It did keep things interesting as she said.

"Whatever." I roll my eyes in mock annoyance. She stands up, straightens out her skirt, and folds her arms neatly behind her back.

"Well, I suppose i should get going, then. Don't want to keep you up too long." She smiles.

"What, that's it for tonight? Where's the pizazz, the charm, that signature web flare?"

Annabelle chuckles. "Afraid so, darling. And you know very well that the web works more in subtlety than any other power." She strolls lazily over to the side of the bed. I watch her carefully with my hands folded behind my head.

"Wouldn't exactly call giant fucked up spiders all that subtle."

"Everyone's a critic, I suppose. But a literal fly on the wall seems a little too obvious, no?"

"Touche."

She huffs a final little laugh, and chances a carefully manicured hand to the side of my head, brushing a bit of hair off of my face. I hold completely and utterly still, biting down hard on my cheek. As she pulls away with an elegantly devious smile across her face, a few silver wisps of cobweb trail behind, woven messily into my curls at her touch. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, and annabelle rests her hands daintily in front of her.

"Don't get too comfortable, love. Lest you forget we feed on fear?"

I swallow hard, and cannot find a response in time. Annabelle has already started out the door.

"You really should sleep, you know. Big day tomorrow."

This snaps me out of my frozen state. "Wait, what?" I call after her, the sound of her heels clicking through my apartment getting fainter as she leaves. I just KNOW she's smiling like the devious bastard she is. "What's tomorrow?? It's just Wednesday???"

The door clicks open, and then shut. She's gone.

"You're a real cryptic bitch sometimes!" I yell after her in vain, rolling over onto my side. I bring a hand to my forehead and grasp at the loose tendrils of web, combing them out of my hair and flicking them aside. I close my eyes, and soon enough, I am fast asleep.

#trapped in my head🗯#fictional other #f/o #selfshipping #selfship #tma selfship #all part of the master plan 🕷💐🕸#a little bit of writing for my insomnia. it worked too!! im quite tired after writing this #thanks annabelle♡♡

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libraribear · 4 years ago

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2020 in Review

2020 is in the books. What a year. It seems a given that through life, some years will be good and some years will be bad, and for many 2020 was one of the bad ones. Globally, it feels like it was the worst year ever. Personally, I can’t go that far. So many people have it worse than I do, and I’m leery of writing this post because I don’t want to sound unsympathetic as I count my blessings (before going into the undeniably shitty, but FAR LESS shitty things than what some other people are going through).

Nonetheless, as part of a New Year’s Resolution to create more, I figured I’d polish up this blog and write more, so here’s my 2020: Good, Bad, and Ugly. This is a heckin’ long post so only read on... if you dare.

The Good

I never lost my job.

A lot of my academic colleagues did - basically everyone who had “temporary” or “adjunct” in their title was axed. By virtue of being temporary year-to-year faculty for five years, I was promoted to the tenure-track in 2019. I feel very badly for my colleagues, all who lost their job to circumstance, not merit. Six years ago I took a chance leaving a steady job with a newborn to pursue my goal of being an Academic Librarian. The job was a one-year temporary position with no guarantee of continued employment, and I worked hard, interviewed for my job twice in five years, and managed to hang on. It’s crushing to imagine what it would have been like to survive all that and get axed because of a pandemic, and I feel very badly for my colleagues who suffered that fate.

I got to spend most of the year working from home with my kids.

Before I get into “The Bad”, namely that keeping a five and six year old on task while working a full-time job is incredibly stressful, the good was that I got to watch one-year-old girl grow and grow and grow every day whereas my two boys were in daycare at that age. I got to spend a ton more time with the boys and my wife too.

My kids live in a school district with resources.

We’ve made a lot of strides in Distance Education, but it still isn’t ideal. I feel like my kids’ school district is doing the best they can to make it work. I feel extremely fortunate to live in a district where that was an option from the start, with full distance, hybrid, and in-person options. Not wanting to expose my kids or their teachers to any risk, we’ve gone full distance the whole time. we chose this to keep our kids as safe as possible, so I hope you’ll forgive me when I go into detail under The Bad as why it sucks for everyone involved. ;)

Ms. Bear and I started Doctoral Programs

File this one under “things I’d have never done if I knew the pandemic was going to be this much of a problem in Fall”, but it’s still a good thing - and definitely not the kind of thing I would do if it wasn’t free through my university. With Ms. Bear it’s more of a life-fulfillment thing and I’m happy that I can help her realize her dream.

The Bad

Distance Education Requires Training - Students Are Struggling

My college freshmen struggled to adapt to their first year seminar class and I attempted to make it as easy as possible for them to follow along, engage online, have second and third chances to turn in assignments... it didn’t matter. Elementary school students have it worse - my kids struggle to stay on task, and me and Ms. Bear do our best to keep them on task. I feel really bad for those kids whose parents can’t work from home or are too busy to stay on them and help them with distance education. I’m not anti-distance education by any stretch, but the pandemic forced a lot of people to switch to it relatively quickly and since distance education is by its nature very self-directed even with a good teacher/instructor, some people unused to this method really struggle.

I should note that none of this is meant as a criticism of the decision to go for distance education. Health is most important, period, and those politicians that are like “But think of the children, send them to school” - well, hold them back a year if it’s that bad. I repeated the first grade. It’s better than dying. I worry less about the kids’ educational attainment and more for those kids from bad homes where school is a safe haven/source of food. If you’re that worried about it pass some laws to help.

The Roof, The Roof, The Roof is leaking water

When you find a tiny leak in your roof, if you can afford it, pay the money and fix it. Don’t wait “because it’s a pandemic and we may need that money”. The money sat in my bank account until the the bedroom ceiling started to drop a few months later. Definitely the decision of 2020 I’d most like back.

2020 Was Not The Year to Reduce Stress.

I think everyone is running on fumes by the time they got to the end of this year. For my wife and I as young parents (can’t help that), full-time workers (gotta eat to live), and grad students (like I said above, if I had a do-over I’d DEFINITELY have waited until 2021, the pandemic represented the steady erosion of all the gains I made the past year. Anxiety? Back up. Overall level of physical fitness and nutrition? I was exercising and eating and feeling really healthy in March, but I eat (and feel) like crap now.

The Ugly

Misinformation, Misinformation Everywhere... and Politics

Misinformation is nothing new for a US Presidential Election year. But as a librarian whose job it is to promote information literacy, understanding which sources are indeed trustworthy and which are not, this election year was frankly, terrifying for me. I mean, if you know a source is trustworthy because of the standards and norms that are used to govern it, but people simply roll to disbelief it’s trustworthiness... I’m not sure how in the hell you get through to them. Lest this be construed as too political a post (I did get a little political above, hee), I’m going to stress that these information discernment skills that seem to be lacking are skills people on both Team Blue Donkey and Team Red Elephant lack. Add to that the psuedoscience, lack of fact-checking, and the whole “If it doesn’t agree with my worldview, I refuse to believe it” attitude illuminated by the pandemic and I’m not going to lie, this shit is terrifying to me. I’m hoping it’s just a phase we’re going through in America, but geez. I’m not a doom and gloomer, but this year was TOUGH in the whole “Faith in humanity’s ability to reason” department. I’ll listen to anyone’s political opinion if they back it up with well-researched sources and facts, but rather than driving closer to this goal, we’re heading in the wrong direction.

I should note that to me, it’s not just Team Red Elephant that has trouble discerning information, or is duplicitous. I need to make that clear. I definitely lean left and it’s not hard to see why - I mean, I’m a heckin’ librarian for crying out loud. But lying and misinformation or misconstruing facts? Some politicians may be more egregious offenders, but most politicians do that regardless of stripe. I feel politics are more like a teeter totter constantly switching up and down. We do ourselves a disservice when we believe everyone on our team is rational and level-headed and everyone on the other team is evil, stupid, irrational. There was a time when we could have discourse, and through disagreements we could at least learn from one another. I intensely understand the desire to make and justify political beliefs, but they’re not how we progress in a country that’s run the way the US is. Maybe it’s always been this way, but as I’ve aged I notice we have a lot more tendency to anoint a politician of our political stripe as a savior. Whatever happened to the old worldview that all politicians were lying dirtbags and though you might side with them, you could never fully trust them? It seems to have been turned on its head, I’m not sure how, to “Trust my side implicitly, DO NOT TRUST THE OTHER SIDE AT ALL.” That one side could be a bastion of truth and virtue and the other a bastion of evil and ugliness is, I’m not gonna lie, extremely unlikely.

Do as I say, not as I do. I got swept up in the political fervor myself with my D&D Friends - for a time we had a “Just Politics” channel to talk politics. That was a big mistake. Though no friendships were ended, that channel alone intensified my anxiety tenfold (MY FRIEND IS WRONG ON THE INTERNET! I HAVE TO SHOW THEM THE ERROR OF THEIR WAYS!) and... yeah. The BEST decision I made in 2020 was folding and walking away from the political discussion table - but it took me a few months of arguing and stressing to get there. I’ve reverted back to trying to do good for all people in my little corner of the world and the web by treating everyone respectfully and rationally unless they give me reason to do otherwise, at which point I’m far more likely to ignore you than engage with you. I hate that I have to do that, but it is what it is. If I talk politics, it’s privately with someone I know that is sane enough to safely distance from the chaos, or someone I trust implicitly. I won’t deny that it’s a very fascinating subject to me since politics is so ingrained into human nature, but good lord, what a minefield.

UGLY Bonus Edit (I always think of the coolest things to say right after I hit post, after all)

A last thought - whenever we’re confronted with a worldview we disagree with, whatever happened to asking the person why they feel that way or what they meant before immediately labeling them scum on Earth? We don’t even bother to fact check the people we loathe when honestly at worst you’re just confirming suspicions, at best you may even cause them to question why they believe what they believe? I can’t remember the last political or heated conversation I’ve seen where that happened. When I was fighting with my friends on “Just Politics” I don’t think I bothered to ask that often enough myself.

Anyway, I’m looking forward to making 2021 a better year than 2020. Happy New Year, everyone. Love and hope to you all.

#libraribear life #Happy New Year

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terreisa · 5 years ago

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The Perfect Gift

Emma Swan has gotten away with trading out her pick for Secret Santa for three years. When she’s finally forced to keep the first name she pulls from the Santa hat it happens to be Killian Jones, the one person in the office that irritates her to no end. She makes it her mission to find him a perfect gift and ends up discovering there’s more to the office Casanova than she’d ever suspected.

AO3

~*~CS~*~

“You’ve gotta be shitting me. Let me pick again!”

Emma Swan groaned as her friend and co-worker Mary Margaret twisted at the waist so the Santa hat in her hands was well out of her reach.

“No. I’ve let you, and only you by the way, re-pick for the past three years,” Mary Margaret said pointedly, raising her brow at her. “It’s not fair to the others who actually follow the rules of Secret Santa.”

“Rules you came up with,” Emma grumbled, scowling down at the name on the slip of paper in her hands.

“It can’t be that bad-” Mary Margaret sighed, “Zelena was transferred and Walsh was fired so there’s really no one truly terrible participating this year.”

“I think I’d prefer them over the one I did get. Forget the fact that I can’t stand him, I don’t know what the hell to get him!”

“Who-” Mary Margaret began before her eyes widened and a pleased smile unfurled on her face, “You know exactly what he wants and it won’t even cost you twenty-five dollars.”

“Mary Margaret!” Emma hissed, embarrassed and shocked that her normally prim and proper friend went straight for an innuendo. “Gross.”

“Oh, come on, it’s no secret that Killian has had a crush on you from the moment he stepped foot in this office.”

Emma rolled her eyes at the familiar and franky ridiculous refrain. Killian Jones was a well known film critic from England that had been hired two years before in an effort by the higher ups to expand their newspaper’s readership. When he had walked in on his first day, with artfully tousled inky black hair, ocean blue eyes glittering with excitement, and tailored clothes that showed off a trim and toned physique, nearly every single woman in the office had attempted to help him set up his desk. Emma, on the other hand, had appreciated the new eye candy and then returned her attention to the article she had been working on at the time.

She figured that it was her indifference that had Killian asking her later that day if she’d wanted to get coffee with him. Of course, after watching him flirt and banter with all the helpful women in the office all morning she’d given him a withering look and a resounding no. She’d been burned badly before by interoffice dating and she wasn’t looking for a repeat performance, let alone dealing with a no shame lothario. He had merely given her a puzzled smile and wished her a good day before retreating to his desk. What followed was a year of watching him pull the same tricks with every available woman in the building while still brushing him off every few weeks. As glad as she was that she hadn’t fallen for any of his pretenses there was an annoying stab of something in her gut whenever he walked someone new out the door with his hand low on their back.

Things had only taken a turn for the worse when Emma had been promoted to a full time writing position in the entertainment section. While she’d been vying for a byline in that section for years she almost turned it down knowing she’d have to work almost daily near the man that had become the bane of her existence. There had been an intervention from Mary Margaret, her husband David, and her roommate Belle to convince her to take the position. Even her own boss Tink, editor of the home and garden section, had had to sit her down and talk sense into her. She’d emerged from her office an hour later, cheeks burning with the praise Tink had heaped on her and ears ringing with the passionate arguments she’d made in her favor. By the end of the week she’d moved her things to a desk across the office, one that was unfortunately situated next to Killian’s.

From the moment she’d unpacked her admittedly meager personal belongings Killian had seemed to take it upon himself to get on her last nerve. He was constantly leaning over to ask her inane questions about her day or bore her with random bits of trivia he collected like a magpie with shiny things. Though, she had to admit, it broke up the monotony of trying to think of a new way to write a review for a show that had jumped the shark three seasons before. She also couldn’t find it in her to really complain about the perfectly made cup of coffee that was always annoyingly waiting for her when she was running late, which happened to be almost every day. What really got on her nerves, however, was that his movie reviews were insightful, hilarious, respectful even when he hated the movie, and aligned with her own opinions so perfectly that she’d wondered more than once if he could read her mind.

Of course, everyone in the office saw all of that as tantamount to Killian having feelings for her. Worst of all they saw her laughing at something he said, or drinking the coffee he made, hell even talking civilly with him as her returning those non-existent feelings. When it was really that she just found it easier to go along with his ridiculousness than to wear herself out actively loathing him. She truly couldn’t stand him but no one else seemed to believe her.

“It’s not a crush,” she refuted though there was no heat behind it because she knew Mary Margaret wouldn’t believe her.

“Sure, uh-huh,” Mary Margaret singsonged with a grin. She walked backwards away from her, still grinning, “Twenty-five dollars and we’re doing the exchange at the holiday party. Good luck!”

Emma stuck her tongue out at Mary Margaret as she pivoted on her heel and made her way to the advice column's and editorial’s small cluster of desks. She sighed, slightly glad she’d been cornered in the breakroom instead of at her desk where Killian would have definitely overheard something she didn’t need him to. Then again she wouldn’t have had to once again brush of Mary Margaret’s ridiculous ideas of crushes and might have even stood a chance at getting to repick a name. With a groan of frustration she grabbed her now lukewarm mug of coffee and a random loose granola bar and headed back to her own desk, already mulling over and rejecting ideas for what to get Killian.

Twenty minutes and a thorough search of Killian’s almost too neat desk later and she was still at a loss. She was fiddling with a paperclip to open the locked bottom drawer but knew she had already pushed her luck, time wise. Killian and Robin, the editor of the sports section, always went out for lunch on Wednesdays and were always back in the office by ten till one. Glancing at her watch she saw she had less than five minutes to jimmy the lock, dig through the drawer’s contents, get everything back in order, and be sitting innocently back at her desk. Gritting her teeth in frustration she stood, tossing the half straightened paperclip onto her desk as she looked over the personal effects on his desk once more.

There were a couple framed photos: one was of him and another dark haired, blue eyed man, brother she figured from the resemblance; another was of a woman in soft focus with dark auburn hair that was curled to eighties perfection, his mother probably though Emma could only guess why he chose that photo to put up; the third and final frame wasn’t a photo but his review for the movie The Village, clipped from a newspaper and yellowed with age. Aside from the frames there were only a few knick knacks: a small replica ship’s compass, a Rubick’s cube she’d seen him fiddle with when he was on the phone or stuck on wording for an article, and a potted plant she didn’t know the name of that he had somehow kept alive in their nearly windowless office. The only thing that seemed to give her any real insight was a thick, well worn paperback. She didn’t recognize the author’s name but the title rang a bell and having no other leads she resigned herself to jotting both down on a Post-It as a starting point.

“Interested in the works of Edwin Stephens?”

Emma jumped at the sound of Killian’s voice next to her. She breathed a sigh of relief that she’d sat at her own desk to write the name down before realizing she had to come up with a reason for doing it.

“Uh, looking for present ideas-” she winced at her own stupidity, rushing on hoping he wouldn’t catch on to her, “For David. Mary Margaret’s husband? He’s a big reader. Of everything. Hard to get him something he hasn’t read yet, you know? Thought I’d check if he had any of this Stephens guy’s books the next time I go over for dinner.”

Killian chuckled, settling into his chair, “He might, Stephens isn’t particularly popular but now that his work is finally getting the quality adaptations it deserves more people are starting to read his books.”

“So he’s your favorite author then?” She teased, delighting in the tips of his ears going pink.

“Since I was twelve and a neighbor let me borrow Absolute Bearing. I was a bit young to be reading it but I loved it. Didn’t actually give it back to the neighbor, now that I think about it,” he hummed thoughtfully before shrugging and picking up the book on his desk. “If Mary Margaret’s husband doesn’t have Siege Perilous then it’s the one to get. It’s considered to be one of Stephens’ best, and not only by me I’ll have you know. It’s also going to be a limited series on HBO next fall.”

“Really? ‘Cause it kinda looks like you don’t like it at all,” she deadpanned, eyeing the well bent spine and slight discoloration of the pages.

He rolled his eyes at her, “Ha, bloody, ha, Swan. I’ll have you know this is the third copy I’ve had to buy since I keep rereading it until it falls apart in my hands.”

Surprised by his utter sincerity she burst into laughter. He grinned widely at her, absently thumbing at the pages of the book. As her chuckles subsided she realized that she’d never actually initiated a conversation with Killian, let alone one where she joked around with him. Suddenly feeling awkward she dropped her gaze to the note she’d written herself and tried to ignore the way she saw his shoulders slump out of the corner of her eye.

“Siege Perilous,” she muttered, carefully adding the title to her note just so she’d have something to do. She peeled off the Post-It and stuck it to her monitor, “Got it.”

“He should enjoy it-” she looked at him, confused for a moment until he clarified, “David. Don’t let the nautical themes put you off.”

“Right, thanks.”

She gave him a fleeting smile before turning back to her desk and made a show of throwing herself into her work. Nevermind that she’d already finished her assignment for the week. Cursing to herself she opened a new document and began typing nonsense until the feeling of him watching her subsided. She was highly annoyed when at the end of the day that all she’d accomplished was a page full of ridiculous phrases and the tiniest sliver of insight into the man she had to buy a gift for.

A week later she was no closer to narrowing down from over a dozen options. She knew she was way overthinking it and that if she asked Mary Margaret or Robin she’d have a gift purchased by the end of the day. Yet, somehow, she felt like that was cheating. It had become a challenge almost, the urge to crack the code to get her sworn enemy the perfect gift. Though, since their conversation about Edwin Stephens she’d let her guard down and had a few more surprising talks with Killian about the things they liked to do on their downtime. Which is how Emma found herself arguing with him over the best place to get pizza.

“Are you kidding? Their crust is garbage! The only good thing about that place is the sauce.”

“The sauce makes the pie, love,” he said vehemently. “Just because you prefer a paper thin crust doesn’t mean that every other option should automatically be disqualified in your book.”

She rolled her eyes, “Fine, I’ll give you that, I guess, but they don’t even deliver. Not even Postmates! How are they still in business when they’re missing out on all those potential customers?”

“Ah, so the truth emerges!” Killian said smugly as he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at her, “You probably don’t venture to eat anywhere that doesn’t have the option of showing up at your front door. Think of all the delicacies you’re missing out on, Swan!”

“I eat at places that don’t deliver. There’s a great Dominican place that’s a whole twenty minutes away from my apartment and I go there at least three times a month,” she shot back before realizing she’d revealed a part of her life she hadn’t meant to. She scrambled to keep him from thinking too deeply over it, “Besides you can’t say that Angelo’s is the best when you haven’t even tried Pizza on Fourth.”

“With such an uninspired name how can their fare be any good?” He scoffed. Then he hesitated, looking at her consideringly, “How about we put it to a test?”

“Meaning?” She asked warily.

“Do you have plans for lunch or vehement standards about eating the same thing twice in a day?” He asked, matching her wariness.

She blinked at him, “You want to see whose pizza place is better?”

“It’s the only way to know for sure,” he answered seriously, though she could see the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“For scientific purposes or bragging rights?”

“Bragging rights, of course,” he said with a wink.

Ignoring the small flutter in her stomach she pretended to mull it over, “Will there be a medal? A trophy perhaps?”

“How about a free lunch?”

“Deal!”

He chuckled, “Since Angelo’s is closer shall we get Pizza on Fourth delivered for lunch, then we can walk over to Angelo’s after work?”

“Sounds good to me,” she said happily, already opening the app to order. “Should we go with the classic pepperoni at both to keep it fair?”

“I like the way you think, love, and add on a round of garlic knots to really spice up the competition. Just let me know when you need my card.”

“Uh-huh,” she murmured, busy tapping away at the ordering options.

Later that night, with a lot of hedging and dragging her feet she admitted that Angelo’s was the better pizza. What she couldn’t seem to admit, even to herself, was that she’d had fun hanging out with Killian outside of work. She also toyed with and then dismissed the idea of getting him a giftcard to Pizza on Fourth just for the petty satisfaction.

Four days before Christmas and two before the company party Emma found herself wearily scrolling through article after article on Buzzfeed for any kind of inspiration for a gift. She felt as though she’d had a hundred ideas but none of them felt right. It didn’t help that every time her and Killian hung out that a dozen new options for a gift presented themselves.

“I don’t think he’d want a Tub Shroom, no matter how many people have given it five stars on Amazon.”

Emma groaned at the sound of Mary Margaret’s voice, dropping her forehead to her desk. She felt a gentle commiserating pat on her shoulder and rolled her head to look up at her.

“He’s impossible to shop for,” she whined. “Is it too late to switch with someone?”

“He is not and yes it is,” Mary Margaret tsked. “Unlike you everyone else doesn’t wait until the last minute to buy something.”

“It’s not the last minute. I still have two days,” she grumbled, pushing herself up only to slump down in her chair.

Mary Margaret frowned, “Which is not enough time for Amazon to send something. You’re making this harder than it has to be, especially if you hate the guy.”

“I don’t hate him,” she mumbled, barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“I said-” she sighed and prepared herself for a torrent of ‘I told you so’s’ and squeals, “I don’t hate him. He’s actually a good guy.”

Mary Margaret smiled widely but surprised Emma by remaining calm, “Then it should be even easier to find something. Right?”

“That’s just it!” She huffed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “There’s too many options now that I’ve actually gotten to know him. I should just buy him the best bottle of rum twenty-five bucks can buy and be done with it.”

“Then why don’t you do that?” Mary Margaret asked puzzled, though her smile was still too wide for Emma’s liking.

“It’s so…” she cast about for the right word and nearly let out a frustrated growl when none came to her. “Generic, boring, thoughtless? I don’t know but I can do better.”

Mary Margaret laughed, “It’s not a competition. He’ll appreciate whatever you get him. Probably even more so now that you’re friends.”

Emma opened her mouth to refute the claim but found that she couldn’t. Since their impromptu pizza competition they’d gone to several more restaurants under the guise of deciding who had the better taste. Even more than that they’d also gone out for after work drinks a few times, talking about nothing and everything, and once she’d gone with him to a critics screening of a movie she’d been looking forward to seeing for months. That he’d been just as excited to see it and they’d spent hours dissecting it afterward at a twenty-four hour diner down the street from the theater only drove home the fact that he was, for lack of a better term, her friend. She tried to push down the sudden feeling of disappointment she felt at that.

“Ooo, Siege Perilous? Isn’t that the set you get to visit next month?”

Mary Margaret’s voice dragged her back to the discussion at hand. She nodded absently, “Yeah, they start filming after the holidays and it’s the only time they’re allowing reporters on set.”

“Lucky, David wouldn’t let me read anything else until I gave it a chance. I was annoyed at first but it’s really good. You should read it too, get ready for that set visit.”

“I should,” she said slowly, staring thoughtfully at the Post-It she hadn’t thought about since she’d stuck it to her monitor. An idea started to form in her mind and with it a realization. She looked up at Mary Margaret, “It’s totally a crush isn’t it?”

Mary Margaret’s smile somehow grew wider, “For him? Or for you?”

Emma surprised them both by smiling herself, “Is it okay if I skip out on our lunch? I’ll make it up to you.”

“Totally fine,” Mary Margaret said, waving her off. “I think I’ll go out to eat with Tink, she owes me.”

She barely paid attention as Mary Margaret left, already distracted by figuring out what she needed to do and how little time she had to do it.

Two days later, when Emma arrived at the restaurant that was hosting their company party it was already in full swing. She snuck Killian’s present onto the table that held the other gifts before weaving through her coworkers to get to the bar. When she got there she was pleased to see Killian already there, chatting with the bartender.

“Gonna buy me a drink, Jones?” she asked as she sidled up next to him and grinned.

“It’s an open bar, Swan, so I’d be delighted to,” he said with a grin of his own. Then his eyes widened and she watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, “You look-”

“I know,” she said demurely, pleased that her blush pink dress had made the impression she was going for. She turned to the bartender and ordered a glass of wine, conscious of his gaze lingering on her. When she was handed her glass she turned back to see him still staring at her, “I know I probably already asked this but you’re not flying home for Christmas?”

“Uh, no-” he blinked, shaking his head slightly. It seemed to clear his thoughts and he gave her a shrug, “Never had a place there to truly call home if I’m honest. I tend to fly wherever my brother Liam is stationed at the time but seeing as he’s doing the whole first holiday with his girlfriend and her parents I figured I’d stick it out here this year. It’ll just be me and a yet undecided Netflix marathon to celebrate. What about you, off to visit your own family tomorrow?”

“Oh, I, uh,” she stuttered, caught off guard by the suspicion that his past seemed to mirror hers. She took a sip of wine to fortify herself, “I don’t have a, uh, family. I usually sleep in and then watch Die Hard before going to Mary Margaret’s house for the day. Nothing too exciting.”

She took another sip of wine to cover what was sure to be an awkward moment between them. Killian was watching her with a look she couldn’t understand, not saying a word. Finally after a few seconds that felt like lifetimes she glared back.

“What?”

“Sorry, love,” he said sheepishly, a blush blooming in his cheeks. “It’s just… sometimes you’re quite the open book but then you’ll do or say something that surprises me. I never would have guessed- well, I knew there was something but I didn’t want to pry and it didn’t occur to me-”

“Killian-” she interrupted, grabbing his arm to stop his rambling. “It’s okay, you can say ‘orphan’. It’s not like you’re breaking a story I don’t already know.”

He let out a tense laugh, nervously scratching behind his ear, “Perhaps I didn’t want to say it because I loathe the moniker myself. Schoolyard taunts will do that to a lad.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She had gone through most of her life not having much in common with people because of how she had grown up without parents or even a stable home. It was almost ironic that she had been so determined to dislike Killian when he had more in common with her than she ever could have expected. A hiccuping laugh escaped her as she realized just how much she had grown to like him over the weeks since she’d drawn his name from Mary Margaret’s Santa hat.

“I propose a toast,” she said with a wide grin, lifting her glass, “To a couple of orphans not letting a little thing like that get us down.”

Killian gave her a soft smile, raising his glass to hers and tapping them together lightly, “To a couple of orphans.”

They drank, though neither of them took their eyes off of each other. Emma felt the warmth from the wine spreading down to her toes, though she could have also blamed the look in Killian’s eyes with having something to do with it. Just as she was about to comment on it and possibly ruining whatever it was that was growing between them the music that had been playing in the background cut out and Mary Margaret was calling for their attention.

“Merry Christmas everybody!” She chirped merrily. David was at her side with two wrapped presents in his hands, “It’s time to hand out the Secret Santa gifts so when you hear your name come on up!”

Emma felt a thrill of anticipation zip across her stomach. She turned towards Killian with what she hoped was a calm demeanor only to find that he was still looking at her with a gentle smile, not even paying attention to the names Mary Margaret was calling out.

“Not looking forward to your gift?” She prodded, worried that he’d already figured out that she was his Secret Santa.

“Oh, I’ve never signed up,” he said, giving a fleeting glance towards Mary Margaret before looking back at her. “The past couple years I was flying to England and missing this lovely party. By the time I had my plans settled for this year it was far too late to sign up.”

“Emma Swan.”

Emma stared at him uncomprehendingly. She knew she had pulled his name, for one it wasn’t like anyone else in their office had the name Killian even though Jones was pretty common and for another she’d stared at the slip of paper for at least an hour when she’d gotten home the night she’d drawn it, willing it to be any name other than his. The only logical explanation was that he’d signed up and forgotten.

“Emma Swan?”

Killian’s gaze darted away and then back to her, “Er, Swan?”

“You forgot,” she blurted out. “You signed up and forgot. Right?”

“No,” he said slowly. “You know how tenacious Mary Margaret is about making sure everyone remembers their gift. I’ve never done it and still know what a terror she can be.”

With a dawning horror she realized exactly how much of a terror Mary Margaret could be.

“Has anyone seen Emma?”

Killian tilted his head towards the front of the room, “I believe you’ve been summoned for your own gift, love.”

“Yep,” she ground out, narrowing her gaze at Mary Margaret who was scanning the crowd for her. With extreme care she set down her wine glass, afraid she would shatter it in her anger, “Just going to go get my gift now.”

Wasting no time she stormed to the front of the room, pushing past everyone and ignoring their grumbles in her wake. Mary Margaret beamed when she caught sight of her but it quickly turned sheepish as Emma got closer. By the time Emma made it to her she was already whispering a rushed explanation.

“-sorry but you would barely give him the time of day and he’s really a great guy. I figured if you had to get him a gift you’d get to know him and see that he’s not actually terrible. And it worked! You’re friends now.”

Emma felt her anger leave her in a rush at Mary Margaret’s sincerity and the ridiculous lengths she’d gone to. It helped that she was right, even though Emma would never admit it to her.

“What if I had just bought him a Starbucks gift card and been done with it?” She asked with feigned annoyance, wanting to know just how invested Mary Margaret was in her scheme.

Mary Magaret scoffed, “I knew you wouldn’t do that. You complained about him too much to get him something that boring. I knew you’d use your gift as a way to prove something.”

She gaped at her, surprised by the confidence she’d had in her plan. Then a thought occurred to her, “You wouldn’t let me repick because every name in that hat was his wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” Mary Margaret grinned. “And don’t worry about someone else getting left out. I kept your name out of the main draw to keep things even.”

“Then how do I have a present?” She asked, bewildered.

“Santa works in mysterious ways,” Mary Margaret said cryptically, still grinning like a fool. She plucked a green bag, its handles tied together with a length of red ribbon, from the table, “Here you go.”

Emma took it in one hand and held out the other, “Can I at least give Killian his gift myself? I don’t want him making a big deal about how he didn’t sign up and embarrassing us both.”

“Can’t-” Mary Margaret frowned dramatically, though her eyes were alight with mischief, “I sent David to give it to him when I first called your name.”

Sure enough, when Emma looked back at Killian he was trying to keep David from handing him the present Emma had brought. Giving Mary Margaret a withering look she hightailed it back to the bar before anyone else’s attention was grabbed by the escalating argument between the two men. She arrived as David pushed the wrapped box into Killian’s hands.

“Just take the present, man. It’s got your name on it so it has to be yours.”

“And I’m telling you there’s a mistake, mate,” Killian bit out, refusing to hold onto the box. “I didn’t participate in Secret Santa.”

“I got it David,” she broke in, grabbing the gift and stepping between them. “Tell Mary Margaret she still owes me answers.”

David looked at her apologetically, “I really tried to talk her out of it.”

“And yet you’re still her accomplice,” she pointed out. David gave her the same sheepish grin his wife had and she shook her head at him, “You’re both getting coal for Christmas.”

“Bah humbug,” David said cheerfully before giving her a hug and disappearing in the crowd.

“So that charming gentleman is Mary Margaret’s husband?” Killian intoned bemused behind her.

“The one and only,” she said, thinking about how she could cheerfully strangle the couple with tinsel for all their scheming. She placed both his and her presents on the bar and faced him, “They’ve been together since their freshman year of college and are really bad influences on each other. I sometimes have to remind myself that David’s a cop when he gets caught up in one of Mary Margaret’s grand plans.”

Killian’s eyes went wide, “Oh? And what was her grand plan tonight?”

“Well, it looks like you getting a present would be part of it,” she hedged, not ready for him to hear Mary Margaret’s true motivation.

“So it would seem,” he said thoughtfully, tracing the gift tag on his present with his finger. Then he frowned and pushed her gift towards her, “You should do the honors first, love, since you were actually expecting a gift.”

“Yeah?” She asked, relieved that she could put off an explanation for a few more minutes and highly curious what Mary Margaret’s Santa comment meant.

Killian nodded and said softly, “Go ahead, Swan.”

The tag attached to the ribbon gave her no clues since it was a square of paper with her name printed on it and aside from the ribbon holding the bag closed there were no other adornments. The ribbon was tied in a simple bow and with a gentle tug it came undone. When she pulled out her gift she couldn’t help but laugh at the copy of Siege Perilous in her hand.

“Mary Margaret was in a tither in the breakroom last week,” Killian murmured, keeping his gaze on the book when she looked up at him, “She was going on about how the person who had picked your name had quit unexpectedly and that she needed to find someone to replace them. I volunteered, of course.”

“Of course?” She breathed.

He gave her a lopsided smile, “It’s no secret that I quite fancy you when you’re not yelling at me.”

She felt the warmth of a blush in her cheeks and dropped her gaze to the book, running her hand over the cover, “Why get me this, though?”

“You were so skittish when we first talked about it and when you kept the note on your monitor I realized you never intended it as a gift for David. I overheard you telling Mary Margaret that you would be visiting the set of the new show but felt guilty about never having read the book. It seemed to me that getting you the book was rather fitting on all accounts.”

Looking back up at him she felt a swooping in her stomach as her eyes met his. He was still smiling at her but she could sense his nervousness at her reaction to his gift and his confession in the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot and scratched behind his ear. It was his nervousness that gave her the courage she needed to lay her own feelings on the line.

“It’s your turn to open your present,” she stated, nudging the wrapped box with her new book.

He looked askance at it, “It has to be a mistake and I don’t want to open a gift intended for someone else.”

“It’s part of Mary Margaret’s plan, remember? So you should open it,” she encouraged.

“Fine,” Killian sighed, picking up the wrapped box, “But I’d feel better about it if I knew what her plan was. Though you seem to have it all figured out.”

Emma kept quiet wanting to explain everything once he’d opened his gift. He waited for a moment, watching her, before shaking his head and focusing on picking at the tape holding the wrapping paper together. She bit her tongue at his fastidiousness, glad that she hadn’t used more than a few pieces of tape for the whole thing. Finally he pulled the paper off, without a single tear, and opened the box only to go absolutely still as he stared down at the present inside. Glancing up at her with a perplexed look he reached into the box and pulled out the hardback copy of Siege Perilous she’d luckily found at the small bookstore near their office.

“I know the one you have now probably has a few read throughs left before it completely falls apart but I figured you’d want a pristine copy for next month.”

“You bought me-” his gaze darted from hers to the book and back, his confusion easy to see, “Why would you- no, wait, what’s happening next month?”

“Mary Margaret thought that I wasn’t giving you a fair chance, which I wasn’t,” she started, ignoring his last question for the moment, knowing that she had to explain the whys first. “It was mostly me judging you off of my first impression of you and what I’d seen when you first got hired and not by actually taking the time to know you.”

“What was your impression of me, Swan? It must have been not very favorable for you to not have warmed up to me until recently.”

"I, uh,-" she felt herself flush and she only grew warmer in her embarrassment when he noticed and leaned closer. Rolling her eyes she huffed, "To be fair you flirt with everyone and there were a lot of women you left the office with when you first got hired."

"Were you… were you jealous, Swan?" He asked incredulously.

“No, not jealous.” she contested hotly. “I thought you were making the rounds and I’d been cheated on by my last boyfriend with our former editor. I didn’t need to be a notch in someone else’s belt and I really didn’t want to be the focus of office drama again.”

Killian’s demeanor fell but she saw no pity in his gaze, “Oh, Swan, I didn’t know.”

“It is what it is,” she said with a shrug, “The gossip had finally stopped by the time you were hired and I wasn’t going to bring it all back up again with someone I thought was the same type of guy. Though I know now I was completely wrong about that.”

“You truly didn't know, Emma?” He asked so softly she could barely hear him over the music that had started back up.

“Know what?”

He grabbed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles as he held her gaze, soft and sincere, “You saw me chatting and going places with those women because I didn’t know a soul when I first moved here. I never led them on or asked for anything more than camaraderie while I got settled because it’s only ever been you.

"I first saw you by chance, you walked by in the background in my last Skype interview and I was smitten. Of course when I was hired and you rebuffed me while others were clamoring for my attention I was intrigued. Then we became desk neighbors and I got to know you, one small piece at a time, and I fell. For you. And then with these past few weeks of going for meals and drinks, talking for hours with you I began to think, even hope, that perhaps you might be beginning to feel the same.”

As much as she’d had an idea that he liked her, as well as been told numerous times by multiple people, hearing him say it out loud was like hearing it for the first time. In a way it was because there was a small part of her that couldn’t believe it wasn’t another conjecture of the office rumor mill. She felt her cheeks begin to ache and realized she had been grinning at him like a fool but had yet to address how she actually felt about him.

“I was really annoyed when I picked your name-” Killian winced and tried to take his hand from hers but she held fast, “and Mary Margaret wouldn’t let me switch and now I know it’s because she rigged it so it was only your name in the hat. So I was stuck with having to get you a present and practically knowing nothing about you. When we talked about Stephens I realized that it was the first time we’d had a whole conversation. Then we just kept talking and you were nothing like I’d believed you were and I liked spending time with you. Really liked spending time with you.

“The thing was I kept telling myself that I was only hanging out with you because I needed to figure out what gift to get you and it was impossible. I wanted to get you a perfect gift, something that was thoughtful and that you’d really appreciate. When I complained to Mary Margaret about it I realized why I wanted my gift to be perfect.”

“And why was that, love?” He asked hopefully.

“Because I fell,” she said simply. “For You.”

Killian beamed at her before swooping down to capture her lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss. She sighed into him, reveling in the warmth of him encompassing her as his arms wrapped around her. All too soon for her liking he pulled back, resting his forehead on hers with his eyes closed.

“One more thing,” she whispered, playing with the soft hair at the back of his head.

His eyes opened and he leaned back, looking at her quizzically, “What’s that, love?”

She grinned at the pet name she’d practically ignored before, “How good of a photographer are you?”

“Fair enough to keep things in focus. Why?”

“Because the other part of your gift is that you’re going to pretend to be one of our photographers so you can come to the Siege Perilous set visit with me. Edwin Stephens will be there too and I thought you’d like to get an autogra-”

Emma squealed as Killian picked her up and twirled her around. When he finally set her down she paid no mind to the stares that they’d surely attracted and pulled him into a kiss far more passionate than the one he’d given her.

Much later, after they’d allowed Mary Margaret a moment of smug elation and left the party to a couple of whistles courtesy of Tink and Robin they were laying in her bed, sweatpant clad legs entwined. Killian was running his fingers through her hair as she laid curled against his chest, listening to the rumble of his voice as he read Siege Perilous to her. With a contented sigh she figured that maybe Mary Margaret didn't quite deserve that lump of coal she'd threatened her with.

#captain swan #cs ff #captain swan ff #cs christmas #ouat ff #captain swan christmas ff #cs christmas ff #my writing #a little present for you lovely readers

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spidercakes · 5 years ago

Text

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Warnings: Peter is underaged (17), mentions of abusive relationships/ abuse, feminization (Peter).

Peter looks at his phone because Quentin won’t stop textinghim and this is getting annoying. Its been like four months, he didn’t think he’d have to tell him to take a damn hint given that his lack of response to anything Quent has done in that time frame should be clear enough. Of course its not, why would that be enough for Quent to fuck off? He’s never been good at taking a hint. Liz looks worried and he’s pretty sure Ned has drawn up actual murder plans not that he’d ever follow through and Peter’s mostly just annoyed with this.

“Maybe you should like… talk to someone about that,” Liz says and Peter shakes his head.

“Cops can’t actually do anything unless he hurts me so what’s the point?” Its not like he hasn’t looked it up and he doesn’t really have much faith in police anyway, they kind of suck at any kind of omega relations. And also relations with most other groups but that’s a whole other thing.

Liz goes to open her mouth to speak but MJ cuts her off. “He’s right, best he can get is a retraining order and you think Quentin’s going to listen to a piece of paper? Probably not,” she says.

“Well I don’t think he should do nothing, he keeps following Peter around like a lost dog,” she says.

“He stopped following me home after May yelled at him so there’s that,” Peter says hopefully. MJ looks vaguely disgusted and Liz doesn’t look less worried.

“Maybe May should yell at the school to do something too,” Ned says. “I miss having normal Quentin free lunch breaks.”

Peter frowns, “you haven’t had Quentin free lunch breaks since like, last year.” When they started dating, really. And at first it was nice that Quent wanted to spend time with him, but then it got annoying because Quent wouldn’t leave him alone about where he was every god damn hour of the day he wasn’twith him. That’d been weird with Tony, who really only seems to ask if he wants to know more about Peter’s day. Which he actually asks about because he isn’t a jackass.

“Yeah, exactly. He’s like a barnacle and it’s the worst,” Ned says.

Peter’s phone buzzes again and he gives it an annoyed huff. “I swear to godif that’s Quent,” he mumbles, picking it up and finding a text from Tony. Predictably like seven more come in right after each other because he had a bad habit of not sticking what he wants to say in one message. He claims it ruins the dramatic effect.

Lol saw your ex

Told him he looked like compliments Jake Gyllenhaal

He was PISSED

Tried to claim you were cheating on me

Which is ridiculous

But also his proof was worse lmao

I was literally with you the day he chose

And also the picture he tried to pass off as evidence was old

Does he think I’m stupid?

No, he doesn’t think Tony is stupid he thinks everyone else is as much of a reactive dickhead as him. Still though, Peter’s stomach squeezes because he knowshe kind of cheated on Quent a little bit. A couple of pictures isn’t much but its still something so he figures he’s given Tony a reason to be suspicious.

I’m not cheating on youhe sends back, hoping that Tony believes him because he’s not, he wouldn’t. Tony is… well, soft, compassionate, smart, funny, and Peter likes the way he feels when he’s with Tony. Like he’s the most special person on the planet. Tony always gives him these looks, and he’s always giving him these small touches like he can’t stand to be away for too long, and he always compliments Peter’s outfits. And he knows Tony keeps his pictures too and not just because he thinks they’re sexy, he actually pays attention to the composition and Peter likesthat Tony actually cares about things that are important to him. Ned tells him that’s normal stuff and MJ told him that he should have higher standards than that. They’re not wrongbut Peter hasn’t had anything like that before so its nice, compared to Quent.

His phone buzzes and thankfully its Tony again.

Lol yeah I know

You wouldn’t do that

Also Rhodey has banned me from sexiling him again

So I guess we need to follow his schedule

I don’t like when he whines and cries

Its annoying

And a little sad

Peter snorts, shaking his head. On one hand he feels bad for accidentally forcing Rhodey out of his shared space with Tony but on the other hand he honestly can’t believe Tony has such a hard time remembering Rhodey’s schedule. For a genius he’s got the memory of a sieve.

“If we just throat punched Quentin this wouldn’t be a problem,” MJ says, drawing him back into the conversation with his friends.

“We’re not throat punching Quentin, MJ, we’ll go to jail,” Peter says.

Liz snorts, “not, we’llgo to jail. You’ll be a cute little white omega waif the judge lets off with a slap on the wrist and I don’t think throat punching Quentin will solve anything but it would make us all feel better. Take one for the team, Parker,” she tells him and he can’t believe Lizsaid that. It’s the kind of thing he expects out of MJ for sure but Liz is the normal one, the voice of reason, the one who points out when they’re all acting like fools. And Quentin has pissed heroff enough to want him to get punched in the throat.

“You gunna punch him or not?” MJ asks.

“Can I film it?” Ned adds, leaning forward in interest.

“We’re not throat punching Quent guys, he’ll get bored and move on,” Peter tells them. “Hopefully anyway because now apparently he’s trying to convince Tony I’m cheating on him,” he mumbles, sulking.

Liz looks like someone has just slapped a puppy, Ned rolls his eyes so hard it’s a wonder they don’t roll out of his head and out the door, and MJ looks more annoyed. “Throat. Punch,” she says with emphasis.

Tony doesn’t really gethow he got so lucky considering Peter came out of literally nowhere but he’s also not complaining when he’s got Peter in his arms kissing him like that. Godhis ex is such an idiot and not just because of all the sketchy shit he does either, he’s stupid for giving Peter up let alone all his other kind of fucked up behaviors. Peter pulls away and Tony pulls him back, giving him a soft kiss before letting him pull away again. Peter’s cheeks are a little red and he’s grinning wide, “godI missed you,” he murmurs.

He tightens his arms around Tony’s neck as he pulls Peter closer. He’s got one hand settled on the back of Peter’s thigh toying with the garter belt he finds there and the other on Peter’s ass because fuck being appropriate. “Missed you too,” he murmurs, leaning back in and kissing him again.

“Yeah, as adorable as you two are can you not look so ridiculously lewd on fancy cars?” someone asks and Tony pulls away to find MJ standing there looking as unimpressed as usual.

He grins, “you’re just mad its not yourcar,” he says because he knows she has a thing for fancy sports cars. She denies it but she knows too much about them to have a passing interest.

“Uh huh. Mind giving me a ride home, I missed the bus because Liz is a hoe and I had to win that bet,” she says.

“Sure. We can try and convince Peter there’s value to movies that aren’t animated,” he says and she tries her best, she does, but she can’t help the loud snort she lets out.

“Oh that is a losing battle but you bet your ass I’m going to try anyway. What’s first on your list?” she asks.

“Don’t judge me, but V for Vendetta but not the way fuckboys think its good,” he says, trying and he thinks mostly succeeding in abating her fears about him being one of those jackasses who apparently missed the point of the movie.

She nods, “not a bad choice. I was thinking Sorry To Bother You,” she says.

Tony wrinkles his nose, “aw come on, give him something normal before you jump in with capitalism criticizing sci-fi flicks, we gotta ease him into it, not scare him back to Snow fucking White.” Not that he doesn’t appreciate a good Disney film but damn, thatone? He’d been happy when Ned and Liz started ripping on Peter about it first so he didn’t feel bad in affirming that his friends have better taste than he does.

“I watch live action guys, I like Star Wars and like, a couple other things,” Peter says in his defense.

MJ shakes her head, “sometimes I think he’s got more beauty than brains,” she says.

“Oh, he’s definitely got brains but he selectively uses them,” Tony says. Something in that must appease her because she nods to herself before pulling her backpack off her shoulder.

“So, can I drive?” she asks and Tony snorts.

“Absolutely not.” It’s athingwith him and Peter knows its because his parents died in a car accident but its not exactly something he advertises.

MJ looks disappointed, “and here I was, ready to approve of you,” she says and he thinksshe’s joking so he looks at Peter. He looks amused so she must be but that’s not what really catches his attention.

“You painted your nails,” he says, looking at the dark red nail polish Peter had chosen. Not his favorite shade of red but it does look nice against Peter’s pale skin.

He looks down at them and then to Tony before he grins and Tony already regrets mentioning it because Peter has a habit of being a total tease, not that Tony would ever call him that. Turns out that’s yet another thing his shitty ex did, except Tony doesn’t actually mind the teasing, he just pretends to be put out about it.

Peter has discovered that Tony has a thingfor Peter in his lap in any capacity but he seemed to take a special kind of delight in the way Peter straddles him now, body weight pinning him down as he kisses Tony feverishly. Its not just that he’s had a shit day, and its not just that May won’t be home for another two hours, its also that Tony responds so damn well and Peter likesfeeling wanted. He feels like its been forever and Tony is never short on any kind of praise so Peter soaks it up as he presses Tony into his mattress.

“So pretty,” Tony murmurs into his mouth, “gorgeous.” Peter smiles as he noses at Tony’s jawline, not pushing his limits but Tony tilts his head to the side a little so he considers it. The last time he tried anything like this it was with Quent, who hadn’t taken at allkindly to Peter trying to scent him. Didn’t seem to stop him from expecting Peterto be fine with being scented, but he doesn’t really want to repeat the scene. But Tony isn’t Quent either, and hedidtilt his head a little, almost like a silent invitation and Peter has always wanted to do this. Well, maybe not alwaysbut since he figured out what scenting wasanyway. Even if apparently omegas aren’t supposed to be interested in that type of thing. Which he thinks is total bullshit but whatever.

After a few moments of deliberation he noses the space just under Tony’s jaw, testing his limits. Tony tilts his head further to the side as his breath hitches up and Peter lets out a soft moan at Tony’s pliability. This time he doesn’t hesitate as he kisses his way down Tony’s neck, gasping a little when Tony moans loudly, arching into Peter as he slips a hand up his skirt, grabbing his ass tightly. “You like this?” Peter murmurs, nipping at Tony’s neck and he shivers at that too. It gives Peter a little thrill, the almost role reversal in the action, and he finds that he likes it, likes Tony under him with his neck bared panting as Peter scents him.

“Yes,” Tony tells him, near whining when Peter pulls away some. “Peter,” he says, dark eyes almost pleading and Peter grins, shifting on Tony’s lap just a little so he can watch the way his head tilts back a little as his mouth falls open. “Peter,” he says again, with more meaning this time.

“Yeah?” Peter asks, lips barely brushing over Tony’s. Tony tries to press into it but Peter is already gone. He lets out a soft sigh of disappointment at the loss and pouts. Tony looks adorable when he pouts.

“Kiss me,” Tony tells him, unafraid to ask for what he wants.

Peter sits back in his lap, hands on Tony’s chest and he likes the way that looks, his pale hands against Tony’s dark shirt with the dark red of his nails to break it up a little. It’s a pretty picture. The hand Tony has on his ass squeezes a little as the other comes to settle on his thigh. “Baby,” Tony murmurs, going back to pouting. He trails his fingers up Tony’s arm, covering the hand he’s got on Peter’s thigh with his own.

“You want me to kiss you?” he murmurs, weaving their fingers together.

Tony nods, “yeah baby, I want you to kiss me,” he says softly. “Scent me, tell me I’m yours,” he adds and Peter bites his lip hard to hold in his moan.

He leans forward again, taking Tony’s hand with him and pinning it over his head. Tony lets out a sharp gasp as his hips tilt up a little so Peter figures he can safely assume Tony likes that. He looks down at Tony for a moment, leaning in close before pulling away at the last second as inspiration strikes. He presses forward, putting more of his weight into pinning Tony’s wrist. “You want all that, hmm?” Peter murmurs and Tony nods. “Then beg for it,” Peter tells him, almost willing to ignore his own request because Tony looks so damn hot like this, spread out under him with Peter pinning him down.

“Please baby, want you to kiss me you’re so god damn stunning. Want you all over me, please,” Tony says, arching into him again and Peter kisses him hard, moaning into it becausewowthat’s hot and he didn’t expect the sharp flush of arousal at that and he wants to fuck Tony nowbut he thinks he might be able to get a little more fun out of him first, even if the rest of him is ready to go.

He pulls away again and Tony straight up whines. Peter bites his lip again because its hot, watching Tony whine for him, wanting him thatbad. He’s about to open his mouth when the door to his room bursts open and he jumps. Underneath him Tony does too, clearly as surprised as he is but he doesn’t quite think anyone is as surprised as May.

“Get your hand out of my nephew’s skirt!” she tells Tony, who promptly pulls his hand away in horror. She turns to face him and Peter is sure he’s a shade of red no human was meant to be. “Peter, what the fuck?”

#tony stark x peter parker #starker #alternate universe #fanfiction #alpha beta omega

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popculturebuffet · 5 years ago

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Ducktales: Challenge of the Senior Junior Woodchucks! and Quack Pack! Review/Thoughts

Hello errybody, I’ve decided being a huge fan of this verison of Ducktales, and someone who likes reviewing stuff and going on and on at length about it, to review this season’s episodes as they come out, both to get me writing critically again, and to get more non chat content on the old tumblr. First, while you likely don’t care a little about my history with the ducks; While I , sadly though i’m trying to correct it, haven’t read MUCH of Carl Barks classic donald duck comics nor that of his avid fanboy and clear sucessor in quality and talent Don Rosa, I did read Rosa’s utter classic “The LIfe and Times of Scrooge” mcduck in high school and the story stuck with me sense. I’ll go into Life and Times another day hopefully, but naturally when the reboot was announced I was excited.. a great voice cast, and donald,my boy, as part of the main cast. The show has been a joy to behold and with steven universe having taken a bow JUST a week ago and Covid ravaging our lives, it coudln’t of picked a better time. But do these episodes keep the momentum from an utterly marvelous second half of season 2? The short answer is “Fuck yes” but the long answer is under the cut.

Challenge of the Junior Senior Woodchucks! While “Challenge of the x” is a popular snowclone title I can’t help but think of superfriends with the title... or now I thought of it shortly before writing this, hearing “Meanwhile at the legion of doom” when they cut to fowl.. or rather “Meanwhile at FOWL” but in that same announcers voice. I”m a dork, that should be obvious But I was hyped for both episodes: Violet is a faviorite mine, I ship her with huey so them interacting for the first time was wonderful to me, and.. okay the subplot didn’t hook me and we’ll get to that, but we had her dads and one of my other faviorites (I have several, get used to it now) , Lena , at least putting in an apperance. And honestly.. the main plot lived up to it. As I said I didn’t really dig the sub plot, more on that in a second, but I REALLY enjoyed this. From the begining Huey was my faviorite of the three triplets, easily, as it’s fairly easy for me a grown ass dork with anxiety, self confidence, anger issues, depression and constant self doubt, to relate to a little duck with the same and I’ve loved Danny Pudi since community, so naturally I was excited for his turn for a spotlight season. And again the show didn’t disapoint.. Huey has a rather decent arc with some unexpected turns: First unexpectly, the trailer lied as while Huey and Violet look ultra competiive, theirs no real confilct..s econds after that bit the two shake hands (after a good 20 seconds of adorable and hilarous failure to do so that fits both like a glove.), and try to be good sports. The problem is instead internal: As Huey muses to his siblings (Webby very much included, getting her own great bit of encouraging Huey while also assuring Violet she’s also great he just needs it more, which is accurate) “If i’m not hte best junior woodchuck who am I”. Like Louie last season towards the begining (when he didn’t have a clear purpose in their adventuring dynamic) and towards the end (When della nearly took it away from him), he’s nothing without his sense of who he is. It’s easily why he’s the one to comfort him when his other siblings are either torn between two friends or you know, Dewey. Louie knows what it’s like to be rattled about who you are. And WHY Violet outclassing him rattles him so much is intreating and to me makes a ton of sense: Huey’s identity to me is so wrapped in his intellegence and woodchuckery because , besides being oldest, it’s what he HAS on his brothers. When you think about it, Louie is the charmer, Dewey is charsmaticin his own way and loves hogging attention not to mention being fairly athletic... to stand out Huey NEEDS his brains to be the one with facts, and plans and his book. He may not be the first on the front lines but he’s the first to solve a trap or figure out where they are if scrooge or his mom hasn’t already.. and if someone’s markdely better at that, and worse in an activity that’s wholy his own and now it’s been revealed impmortant to his mom.. just who is he. The poor kid simply breaks down at the thought and takes bigger and stupider risks, which is sad to watch.. and thankfully lightned by his delightful mental brekadown in the form of the stephen root voiced JW Guidebook, a talking hallucination who gives huey his knowledge and edge back in the contest.. but it’s STILL not enough. And that’s when the other intresting bit comes into play: Huey.. has a moment of weakness. Despite the guidebook saying to always save your fellow woodchucks when violet gets stuck slipping in a tree.. he does nothing and leaves, despite JW , whose now become his concious, begging him not to. It’s a sad, well done moment, and one that makes the story richer. Naturally violet escapes and when huey falls off the lava bridge to the finish line in a nother moment of desperation, and after a returning JW burns because apparently ducks and sabrewings are fireproof but imaginary manfestations of knowledge arne’t, she saves him... and is a good friend and woodchuck in NOT chastizing huey for his moment of weakness earlier, but comforting him, revealing she’s tried three times before and adding some more depth to her character: Despite her awkardness with people, she’s a kind, caring person, and gives Huey the lesson he needs: faliure, and the ocasional bout of moral weakness, is okay.. what matters is you learn from it, dust yourself off and keep going. Huey bows out due to this, as while violet is more than willing to let him pass with her, Huey knows he hasn’t earned it, yet, but he can keep trying and that this is her moment, not his. And in that, I feel learns that he dosen’t NEED recognition to be his best self.. he just needs to be a good person and a good woodchuk. I’ts a damn fine story and despite not being the intended premire, works as a great one.. mostly. And also yes I ship them.. as much as two ten-elven year olds can be, but they are adorable and geninley have a good repore. And before I get to the dispaointing subplot, i’d be an idiot if I left out Violet’s family: We meet her dads, hilariously wearing shirts that say i’m with dad which is also really fucking adorable, and have our first onscreen conformation that Lena’s now her adopted sister, with Lena loudly screaming it in one of the best lines of the episode.. it’s clever to me: it over the top makes sure that we know yes, these men are gay and her parents.. but in a needed way given disney’s tendncy to dance around that or loudly proclaim a minor character no one cares about is gay in a way they can edit out. It’s a great step forward for the channel and the company and good on the crew for going ahead with it and good on disney for not beign dumb about it, nor, like again they have a bad habit of doing, loudly shouting about it to the media. Excellent work.

Now i’m done rambling about Huey’s psyche and america’s new faviorite gay couple, I gotta get the suplot out of the way: while the whiporwill is freaking adorable as is dewey’s bond with it, otherwise this plot is.. really damn weak: it has some good jokes (Louie’s blunt no when Scrooge asks if hte family wants to fight a bear, Webby’s disapointment when she finds their not walking in the path of literal giants, Donald’s runner with the spy drone mosquito (and Della’s instiance to just let it suck his blood), and Della proving she has the family temper with her own donald brand angry dance) it’s just.. not enoguh. It feels like it’s an oblogiatory plto for the family and while it does set up the season’s overaching plot with a strong character, as it’s intresting learning that Scrooge had an idol at adventuring and thus is following a legacy himself, overall the subplot itself is just there and distracting from the much more intresting A-Story. That being said it was at least sorta worth it for the ending bit where huey and violet suprisingly find launchpad at the end of the trial in a cave.. as do the duckfamily, both groups crying out “Launchpad?!” with launchpad giving out a hilarious “that’s me, i’m launchpad” and while the setup for it was weak, the idea of the family going around the globe to find missing mysteries wile fighting fowl over them is a great concept. Overall a really damn strong start to the season with a weak b-plot and i’m gald even if this isn’t what htey planned to start with it’s what they went with. Quack Pack: Quack Pack.. is one of disney’s secret shames.. I mean it’s not SO secret as it’s on D+ while this show’s predecessor wonder over yonder and superhero fantasy classic american dragon jake long are not for reasons I sitll don’t get, but that’s a rant for another day. It clashed badly with ducktlaes,was meiocre most of the time (It helps the two episodes I did watch were donald focused as he, a nicely redeisgned dasiy, and their co-worker kent were the highlights), with the boys somehow being more obnoxious than they were at their worst in the original ducktales. Now that’s off my chest the episode itself.. is really damn good and a nice take on sitcom parody, with the family getting ready for a photo. Dewey’s “since the internet” line in paticular killed because, having watched boths ome of the best sitcoms (roseanne, designing women) and some of the absolute worst (My wife and kids, last man standing,home imporvment etc), most modern ones i’ve seen, even the good ones, have kids written this terrible way. Otherwise though it was highly enjoyable and having Jaleel “Urkel/Sonic the Hedgehog” white here to take the piss out of his former genre as Gene (and doing such a great job I really want to see Gene back next season), is the icing. That and Huey going half insane trying to figure out what’s going on, as well as the unsettling reveal of the studio audience. Really the ep is a laugh fest, as well as the glorious arrival of goofy who to my relief, wasn’t a hallucination.. which itself is a great gag as is the offscreen internal thought of “okay so now htey ahve to take goofy with them on this deadly adventure all the way back to the states?”. The using of the adults old designs, as well as having dewey do the triplets dance and wear an outfit similar to theirs from “Mr Duck Steps Out” (Which I saw earlier this year and other than daisy’s horrifying early voice it wasn’t half bad). It’s just hard to go into and throughly enjoyable. But analysis right the real meat is in my boy donald: Going into the ep I genuinely expected Dewey to be the obvious source of the wish: while knowing gene was involved meant it was easy to see it was his fault HOW was a good question.. but having Donald do so and throughly enjoyable, and naturally gives us two great gags int he rwo: Donald’s VERY donald response “I wish for that 6 times a day! how wsas I supposed to know I was rubbing up against a magical lamp” and everyone spouting off their catcphrases, all either actual ones, basically something she does all the time turned into one (della) or poor beakly who gets “i’m not a spy” for some reason an dis cross about it. But the fact Donald not only figured it out quickly but wants to stay.. is perfectly in character. Donald in general, and especailly here, dosen’t WANT to be an adventuer anymore: he does it for his family, but he’d probably perfer the tgif lifestyle where problems are minor and solved with heartwarming lessons.. not full of lingering restiments, damage you caused, or loosing a decade of your sisters life and having to struggle to care for her kids. The rest of the familys looks when he gives his reasoning say it all: they really get why he wants this.. but Huey, who nicely got to be the one to break the sitcom news to them on top of everything else, makes an even better one: their lives are who they are.. this.. isn’t real. LIkea tgif sitcom it’s a plastic imitation of life that’s nothing like it: it’s comforting sure since hte real world is fucking complicated and miserable at times.. but hiding from it dosen’t fix things. And while Donald, of course angrily denies this while his family ends upf ighting the studio audience, it’s Goofy, loveable guest star and everyone’s other faviorite dad, who gets his friend to see the truth: eveyr family has thieir own normal. He and max are widower and his kid. Just a family of three (I”m counting PJ since , by his tene years at least, Peg is missing, though Iw ish she’d come back as her and goofy would be cute and she deserves better than Pete but whatever, and his dad is an emotionally abusive douchehead). But their happy, they make memories even if goofy like donald can’t walk five feet without the universe, and that’s what counts> it’s a touching sentiment and i’m happy Donald now has a friend whose also a parent and probably made similar sacrifices, and some Donald hasn’t had to just yet and probably won’t now dellas back, but made it through. So donald helps his family fight the humanoids, take sa picture and it’s just a genuinely sweet ending... a great episode with a great concept that also opens the door for the return of the world’s other best dad more times. And again I want to see him smooch pete’s ex wife. This is the hill I will die on apaprently.. and with that I leave you. it was a good start a fun thing ot dive into and I hope for more.. oh and before I go, while i’m not a GIANT max and roxanne shipper, Idon’t dislike the ship I just don’t hav ea large attachment, it was absolutley WONDERFUL to see that they went to prom together. Okay i’m done, until next week, courage and stay safe.

#ducktales #season 3 #challenge of the senior junior woodchucks #quack pack #review #goof troop #donald duck #goofy goof

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johannesviii · 5 years ago

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Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2009

20 to 21 years old. And so the 2000s end, not with a whimper, but with an explosion of upbeat, great pop songs.

Only one third of these lists left to make!

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

First to second and final year of my Master degree in Contemporary History. Also got two summer jobs that year. I was basically only researching and writing my master thesis at this point and trying to survive on a 50€ per month budget to pay for transport, clothes, driving lessons, and food apart from one meal a day. Needless to say, some corners had to be cut and my health wasn’t the best. I was also trying to register to pass some concours d’Etat to be a government worker considering there was 0% chance I’d be able to find a job otherwise with my qualifications and my mother had been trying to find an excuse to throw me out for more than four years at this point. Basically I was broke, stressed out and in panic mode.

Thank god, the music was mostly energetic and upbeat on the radio. I can’t imagine what my mood would have been like if the charts had been as horribly depressed as in 2018 or 2019.

This was also the year when my favorite music reviewer ever, Todd In The Shadows, started to make his first videos, so you might think his lists are going to influence mine, but as it turns out we have very, very different tastes for the most part (I mean come on, the guy hates Depeche Mode), so... not so much. But he helped me discover a lot of songs I would have ignored otherwise, so yeah, godspeed, Todd.

It should be mentioned that the two songs that I wanted to put at the top of this list before looking at the actual year-end lists turned out to be non-elligible and that is extremely frustrating. Obviously, as I mentioned in the previous post, there’s Life In Technicolor II by Coldplay, which has an incredibly fitting name since it’s one of their most colorful songs ever. But I’m not even sure I would have put it at #1 since this was the year of Mika’s second album, and oh my god, We Are Golden was FANTASTIC. It’s my absolute favorite song from the guy, the music video is incredibly fun, and I listened to that shit on a loop as soon as it dropped.

I usually don’t put such large links for non-elligible songs but the fact this isn’t elligible is nothing short of criminal. Check it out if you’ve never heard it.

youtube

As for albums from bands I liked... eh. Lacuna Coil dropped Shallow Life, which was not as good as KarmaCode, Pet Shop Boys dropped Yes which wasn’t nearly as good as Fundamental, Depeche Mode dropped Sounds of the Universe which was DEFINITELY not as good as Playing the Angel (I liked Wrong, though. But it’s not elligible), Eminem released Relapse which was joyless and pretty bad and he was kinda dead to me at that point (even if it wasn’t as terrible as Encore AND he had that song with Drake that was very good), Placebo released Battle for the Sun which was pretty great but still not as good as their previous two albums, Paradise Lost had Faith Divides Us Faith Unites Us and basically same thing there, and Indochine had La République des Météors which is imho their worst record in the past twenty years, by far.

Long story short, every single one of the bands and artists I loved who released an album that year let me down (except Placebo, maybe).

And then VNV Nation released Of Faith, Power And Glory, I listened to it, and suddenly I had a new favorite band, and everything was good and beautiful in the world again. Album of the year for me, hands down.

With that out of the way, a few honorable mentio-HOLY SHIT HOW MANY OF THESE ARE THERE, WTF

Replay (Iyaz) - A perfectly good and innocent little earworm.

Run This Town (Rihanna) - I don’t like the original very much (Kanye’s verse is atrocious) but I've had a mashup of it with Bach’s Tocatta & Fugue in D minor (yes you read that right) on my mp3 player for years now, so this has to count. The mashup is called Run This Town In D Minor. It’s one of my favorite mashups ever. I even made fanart of it once! Look it up if you can, the original video has apparently disappeared.

Circus (Britney Spears) - You know it’s a good year for pop when even Britney Spears makes music I like.

Magnificent (U2) - Wait, even U2 was making decent music? I had zero use for them since at that point Linkin Park had more or less taken over their ecological-musical niche of “mainstream epic-sounding pop-rock music with tortured vocals and Emotions(tm)” but that one was still kinda nice.

Même Pas Fatigué (Magic System & Khaled) - I’ve said that before and I’ll say it again but they always bring a smile to my face and I don’t get why it’s ‘cool’ to hate their songs in my country. Yeah, they often sound the same, but I’d listen to ten similar-sounding Magic System songs in a heartbeat whereas you’d have to pay me to listen to ten similar-sounding Nickelback songs.

Day n Nite (Kid Cudi) - This had a tendency to get stuck in my head, but not at all in an unpleasant way.

21 Guns (Green Day) - Much better than I remembered.

When Love Takes Over (David Guetta), Stereo Love (Edward Maya ft Vika Jigulina), Evacuate the Dancefloor (Cascada) - That year was full of catchy, stupid, energetic songs, wasn’t it?

Greenlight (John Legend) - If I had better taste, this would be on the list. Alas, you’re reading the top 10s of someone who once put Blue (Eiffel 65) in a #1 spot, so yeah.

In Your Hands (Charlie Winston) - Same thing, basically.

Like a Hobo (Charlie Winston) - “Like a hobo from a broken home, nothing’s gonna stop me”, said this very useful song. Now is a good time to remind you that my nickname at the public university was The Hobo. So yeah. I liked this song a lot and I still do.

Forever (Drake) - Drake and Eminem are both amazing on this track. Unfortunately there’s also Kanye West and Lil Wayne on it. But. Like. “I'm Hannibal Lecter so just in case you're thinking of saving face / You ain't gonna have no face to save”. Dude. Duuuuuude.

You Found Me & Never Say Never (The Fray) - Did I mention I really, really liked this band. I think I did. Several times.

Paparazzi & Love Game (Lady Gaga) - Would both have had a chance to land on the list without the incredible amount of great, catchy tunes that year had to offer.

C’est Dans l’Air (Mylène Farmer) - Mylène Farmer had THREE singles on the French year-end list and this is the ONLY one I like. Good electro, mediocre verses but a great chorus (and a weird and kind of hilarious music video). Basically a song saying we’re all going to die and she can only sing about it. It’s strange, it’s a bit dark in a fun way, but it’s sadly not enough to land on the list, and it was the last cut from it.

Phew. Making this list was like a Hunger Games of catchy, upbeat, stupid songs to find which one was the best. It’s not #1 but I’m still shocked I had to put it so high.

But first, the runner ups.

10 - Fire Burning (Sean Kingston)

US: #33 / FR: Not on the list

Yes, ALL these honorable mentions were kicked out to give the last spot on the list to this guy and a chorus that goes “somebody call 911, shawty fire burning on the dance floor, WOAH!”.

The fact that I don’t feel bad about it means this was the right pick for that spot.

9 - Rain (Mika)

US: Not on the list / FR: #22

Anybody else thinks Mika looks like the Fourth Doctor on this screenshot from the music video or is it just me?

Anyway. So yeah, as I said, We Are Golden would have topped this list if it had been elligible. Sadly, it isn’t, but Rain is. I don’t like it nearly as much as We Are Golden, but what can I say. It’s still Mika. I’ll take whatever I can.

8 - I Gotta Feeling (Black Eyed Peas)

US: #4 / FR: #17

I lost about 80% of the respect I had for this song the day I realised its untouchable, marvellous beat was very probably stolen from Take a Dive. I still love it though. Had a few actual parties in 2010 and early 2011 and this was garanteed to make everyone dance, even people like me who don’t know how to dance.

And then the dancefloor died instantly anytime anyone tried to put Boom Boom Pow on because it’s impossible to dance on that one. But that’s another story.

7 - Poker Face (Lady Gaga)

US: #2 / FR: #5

Needless to say this was absolutely everywhere and overplayed to death and beyond, and the fact I still wanted to listen to it and put it on my playlists really tells you how good I thought it was (and still is).

6 - Ça m’énerve (Helmut Fritz)

US: Not on the list / FR: #1 (...yes.)

This is a novelty song with a singer pretending to have a thick German accent, complaining about various things in France, like the fact he doesn’t fit the dress code for a club, that he wanted to buy a sweater with “Rock” written on it but it’s out of stock, that some girls can fit in a size 34 blue jean and not him, that there’s a queue of people trying to buy macarons at the Ladurée shop, and so on. And every time he concludes “that gets on my nerves”, said in a very flat tone. Here’s a translation.

It was overplayed as f█ck here. Think Despacito levels of overplay. But the beat is great and it’s still hysterical after having heard it about a hundred times that year.

Fun fact, while I was making this list and relistening to this song, my s.o said “haha that sounds great! What is it?” and I stared at him in disbelief. Somehow, he was completely serious. That’s like someone escaping the Great Macarena Onslaught Of 1996. What happened. How.

5 - Waking Up In Vegas (Katy Perry)

US: #36 / FR: Not on the list

Again, I must remind you that my s.o is a Katy Perry fan and that I’ve heard this song even more than the average radio listener did at the time, and it’s STILL #5 on this list. What can I say. It’s a ton of fun and one of my favorite songs from her.

4 - New Divide (Linkin Park)

US: #61 / FR: Not on the list

Is this their best song? Not by a f█cking mile. I thought it would be much lower when I started to make this specific list, but what can I say. Linkin Park is like that one old friend that you kept no contact with for years, and once you meet them again, it’s like they never left. Who cares if that wasn’t nearly as good as Numb or In the End? Not me, that’s for sure.

Also, “In every loss in every lie / In every truth that you deny / And each regret and each goodbye / Was a mistake too great to hide / And your voice was all I heard / That I get what I deserve”. Holy shit, dude.

3 - Good Girls Go Bad (Cobra Starship)

US: #43 / FR: Not on the list

BEHOLD. THE ONLY SURVIVOR OF THE 2009 ‘CATCHY UPBEAT STUPID SONGS’ HUNGER GAMES. THE CATCHIEST, UPBEAT-IEST, STUPIDEST OF THEM ALL. HERE IT IS AT LAST.

The thing I love about this is that it’s a song made by nerds for nerds and that the singer looks and sounds completely non-threatening. As Todd said in his own list back in the day, “that guy couldn’t make good MILK go bad” and that’s what’s so endearing about the song, I think.

Also yes, this is, in fact, placed above Linkin Park.

2 - Use Somebody (Kings of Leon)

US: #14 / FR: Not on the list

This was my #1 at first. I LOVED it. I even bought the album, even though, as you know, my funds were very low that year. That music is soaring. It’s majestic. Well, the lyrics aren’t that majestic and soaring, it’s about loving someone and trying to catch their attention, but the rest? Damn this is intense. It was also elligible for the 2010 list, by the way, where I ALSO wondered if it should be #1, but in both cases, it wasn’t meant to be.

And so this list of 2009 hit songs comes to a close.

It began with the forging of the Great 2009 Upbeat Songs. Three were given to the Punk Rock hits. Seven to the Dance Tracks. And nine, nine songs were gifted to the Radio Friendly Pop Songs, which above all else desired power.

But they were all deceived, for another song was made. Deep in the forgotten land of Synth Pop, in his Parents’ Basement, the Dark Lord Adam Young forged a master song, and into this song he poured his joy, his talent and his will to dominate all charts.

One song to rule them all.

1 - Fireflies (Owl City)

US: #60 / FR: Not on the list (76 the next year)

I know. It’s a meme nowadays. But still. Have you any idea how satisfying a song with an initial beat that looks like small pulsing yellow and blue lights in the dark ACTUALLY titled “Fireflies” is? How gentle it all sounds and looks, even when the music soars? The number of drawings and paintings I made just based on the colors of THAT song? It’s like a synth pop version of one of my favorite Mike Oldfield tunes ever, Weightless.

And then, on top of all the rest, how relatable was that guy’s body language and general attitude?? Before even knowing he was on the spectrum I was like “oh BIG mood.”

Also following his twitter was one of the best decisions I ever made.

So yeah. I would have loved to put Coldplay or Mika in that #1 spot, but I’m not too mad about it thanks to this wonderful little song and its author. Such a shame Deer in the Headlights and Alligator Sky aren’t elligible for the 2011 list.

Next up: Johannes finally moves out and finds a great job and starts living a little, plus here’s a #1 that will be difficult to justify

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw

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