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retrobutterflies · 2 years

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Velvet Kisses | e.m.

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Your shitty job has you turning to your almost-boyfriend for help, making both of you admit the full extent of your feelings.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Slight Angst, Major Fluff, Semi-Established Relationship, A creepy man but nothing happens

A/N: This is my brain vomit.

There were few jobs in Hawkins that were desirable. Last year you worked at the 5 & 10 and your boss didn't understand that you couldn't work shifts before 3pm because of school so he fired you for showing up late to shifts you explicitly stated you couldn't work. Over the summer you were a camp counselor and had dealt with enough crying kids and kickballs to the face last you a lifetime. And your job at the minimart lasted all of three days before the former employee who you were replacing had come back begging for their job.

But working at the gas station had to be one of the better jobs you've had. It required little brain power, the most taxing job being wresting with the cash register that seemed like it was a hundred years old. Your boss was a kind man, paying you generously and forcing his son to drive you home at the end of your night shifts. And he even let you leave early if it was a particularly slow day.

That being said, you had never encountered so many walks of life as you had at your evening night shifts at Hawkins Oil. Young kids trying to see if you'd let them buy beer, raiding the snack aisle, and asking you strange probing questions like 'Have you ever been to Skull Rock?' Older patrons frequenting the back freezers and packs of cigarette lining the wall behind you. Some people asked for strangely specific amounts of gas to be put on their pumps and others counted their change down to the last cent as if you were planning on jipping them a nickel.

The worst, however, was the creepy men whose eyes lit up at a young girl working the night shifts. They would lean in close enough so you could smell the tobacco on their breath as they asked for a lighter or gum or whatever was behind the counter so you had to interact with them. And they would purposely brush your hand as they paid, making sure to ask you questions as you hurried through the sale as if it would prolong the conversation.

Your boss made sure to never have you working alone. Either him or his son would accompany you, staring down any strange man that tried anything. It was the reason you felt safe enough to work there. And you had never had any problems until today.

"I just need to leave ten minutes early. I'll do all the inventory and clean up. All you have to do is lock up once your shift is over." The owner's son Mikey was hard to say no to. His green eyes and swooping hair made him a complete sight for sore eyes and his continuous begging throughout the day about how important this date was tonight and how he couldn't be late or he'd never find true love made you acquiesce faster than you'd like to admit. And you wanted him to be happy you just didn't want to finish your shift alone.

"All the inventory?" you questioned as if you hadn't already made up your mind. His eyes lit up as he shook his head up and down.

"All of it. And you can leave ten minutes early on Monday," he added. You smiled. You were already going to say yes but you weren't going to argue with leaving early.

"Okay, fine. But you better fall in love," you said as he jumped up, scrambling to finish the inventory count so he could leave in twenty minutes.

"I'll tell this story at our wedding," he said, his grin highlighting his sharp cheekbones. You let out a laugh.

Twenty minutes came and went and soon enough Mikey was zipping out of there, his "See you next week!" fading until all you heard was the muted buzzing of the overhead fluorescent lights. You busied yourself with doodling on the discarded receipts, pen swirling in random patterns as you waited for the minutes to tick by. The ringing of the bell on the door had your eyes flickering up as a man wandered in. You didn't think much of it at first, continuing your aimless drawing as he meandered to the back freezer. But then he made his way up to the counter, making you jump as you noticed his proximity.

"That all?" you asked, straightening up as he placed the coke can on the counter.

"A pack of reds, too," he said after a moments hesitation. You nodded, turning behind you to grab the pack of Marlboro cigarettes. When you turned back, you couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable way his eyes lingered on you.

"That'll be $3.81." He nodded, pulled a five from his wallet, and slid it over the counter.

"You can keep the change," he said. You nodded, averting your eyes down to the cash register as you loaded in the bill. When he didn't leave, you glanced up at him feeling an uneasy prickling in the back of your neck at his stare.

"Do you need anything else, sir?" you asked. Maybe he was just tired. It was late and the sun had long set now, the only light illuminating the parking lot coming from the store.

"What time do you guys close?" he asked. It was an innocent question. Many people had asked you before and you didn't bat an eye. But there was something about this time, about him asking with his oddly piercing gaze that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Ten." It was quiet for a moment, neither of you saying anything else before he nodded, gave you a smile, and headed out the door. You watched him walk into the parking lot. He turned around halfway, eyes staring back at you. He smiled, again, and you felt your gut twist more. Then he walked to his car.

You waited with bated breath, waited for him to start the ignition and pull out of the lot. But the seconds ticked by and he wasn't leaving. You counted to sixty, then sixty again. Still the car sat motionless, shrouded in the darkness of the corner of the parking lot that the storefront didn't illuminate. Why wasn't he leaving? Why was he just sitting there?

You looked up at the clock, watching the big hand tick to ten o'clock on the dot. A sudden rush of dread flushed through you. Mikey had been your ride. In his excitement, neither of you remembered that he was supposed to drive you home. Your home which sat on the other side of town. Even if you wanted to walk it would take you nearly an hour. And looking at the car quiet and unmoving in the empty parking lot made the idea of walking a fool's mission.

You hopped up quickly, heading to the door to flip the lock. Even closer up you couldn't see the driver's seat of the car. If you hadn't watched the man get into it you would've believed it was abandoned.

"Shit," you muttered.

You walked back to the counter, grabbing for the phone as your eyes kept glancing back at the car as if it was finally going to leave. You called your house phone close to seven times. You knew your parents were staying with your grandparents but your good for nothing sister was supposed to be home. She wasn't even supposed to have plans tonight so why wasn't she answering.

You felt near hysterical as the phone went unanswered for the eighth time. You slammed the phone down, sending every curse under the sun to your lousy useless car-wrecking sister who was the whole reason you didn't have a car in the first place.

The car was still there and you still didn't have any way to get home. But like hell were you sleeping in this place. You gnawed on your lip, weighing your options before his face popped into your head.

Eddie Munson. You squeezed your eyes shut, wracking your brain to try and remember the combination of numbers of his landline. You had called him two days ago. It was written on a pink post-it note taped on your mirror. You stared at it every time you did your makeup. Grabbing the pen, you flipped over an un-doodled receipt and quickly wrote down the numbers you remembered. Four . . . nine . . . three . . . Come on.

You and Eddie had started seeing each other maybe three weeks ago. You weren't exclusive and you had only gone on a handful of dates but you did call each other often. You knew his number was somewhere in your brain you just had to pry it out.

Minutes passed by and your hope was dwindling exponentially until like a light bulb the number appeared in your brain. You quickly scribbled it down before you forgot and picked up the phone, punching the numbers in.

The phone rang and you nervously tapped the pen in your hand on the counter as you waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" You had never been happier to hear his gruff rumbly voice.

"Eddie!" you breathed, smile over taking your face. You heard movement on the other end before he responded.

"Hi Sweetheart. I was wondering if you'd call," he commented. You could hear the smile in his voice, imagining him leaning onto his counter, phone pressed to his cheek.

"I was gonna, when I got home. But I'm still at work," you said. He let out a hum.

"Still working? Did you miss me that much?" he let out a soft chuckle. You would've laughed if you weren't so on edge.

"You wish," you replied, a smile working it way onto your lips. Just the sound of Eddie's voice had your anxious nerves settling a bit. "Um, are you doing anything right now?"

"Burning some Spaghettio's. Was gonna play a little guitar but," he cleared his throat as if he was suddenly nervous. You heard movement again, "Was kinda waiting for your call. Didn't wanna miss it."

The thought of Eddie loitering around the kitchen, eyes watching the land line waiting for your call had your stomach doing somersaults. You had had a crush on Eddie for the better part of a year, hopelessly pining from a distance as your social groups were miles a part. He was always so vibrant and engaging and it was hard to miss him around school. His big brown eyes, wild hair, and general disregard for societal standards had you roped in immediately but the thought of him liking you was still a foreign concept.

When he had admitted that he had been crushing on you for years before you finally started talking because of a group project, you nearly called him out on what you thought was a blatant lie. And he was adamant that the minute he saw you, sparkling eyes and witty tongue, he was sold. But your relationship was still new, unlabelled and fresh that you struggled with what was appropriate to say or do. Was it too early to be calling him every night? Could you admit you missed him when he was away?

Sometimes, however, Eddie would say something so indulgently sweet that it took your breath away for a minute and had you bursting at the seems with affection.

"Eddie," you knew your eyes were rounding, bottom lip pushing out as you felt your chest squeeze in adoration, "That was really cute. I was looking forward to calling you all day." Your admission had him humming contentedly, his wide smile so evident in his tone.

"Yeah? I kinda wish I could've called you yesterday but duty calls or whatever bullshit," he sighed, referring to his band practice that seemed to go into the late hours of the night despite Gareth's mother's disproval.

"It's okay. I know you're a busy man," you said, tracing the side of the phone as you pictured Eddie's smile.

"Not too busy for you," he let out a sheepish laugh before adding, "You could probably convince me to cancel any plan I had. Just to see you."

You felt your heart flutter.

"Stop being cute. You're distracting me. I need to ask a favor," you said.

"Ask away. The answer is already yes," he replied, voice rumbling happily over the static. He was going to make you pass away.

"Do you think you could pick me up from work? My sister isn't answering," you admitted, voice growing softer. Your eyes flickered back to the parking lot, watching the car that still sat motionless.

"I thought that Mikey kid was your ride?" he asked. If he picked up on your unease he didn't comment on it.

"He was. We kinda forgot and he left early for a date," you explained. He hummed again and you heard movement and the jangling of keys making your stomach uncoil.

"You know, I could be your ride home from now on. So you don't have to rely on loverboy," his tone was slightly sharper as he referenced your coworker.

"He's usually reliable. He got caught up in the excitement–"

"And ditched you," he interjected, huffing at his annoyance.

"He didn't mean to. I'm not mad at him," you reassured.

"Right, no, s'okay. He works tomorrow though, right?"

"Eddie," you warned but he let out a laugh.

"I'm only kidding. Partially. I'm on my way, though, so hang tight, okay? I'll be there in like ten minutes max."

You let out a breath, nodding though he couldn't see you. When you said your goodbyes you tried to visualize what Eddie was doing to distract yourself from the foreboding silence of the empty store; door swinging shut, car beeping, keys ratting, ignition starting.

True to his word, not even seven minutes later Eddie's truck was peeling into the parking lot. You had never been so happy to see his wonky rusted old truck. You hopped up, grabbing your bag and hurrying to the door. The keys jangled loudly as you locked up behind you. As you turned around, you were distracted from Eddie's wide smile as the lights from that godforsaken car suddenly turned on. You froze, watching the red car pull out, pause, and then drive out of the parking lot.

You knew he had been waiting for you. Waiting to see when you were leaving, how you were getting home, but to see it be proven made you feel a little lightheaded. Your eyes met Eddie's as he glanced over his shoulder at the retreating headlights in the distance.

"Who was that? Not that sorry punk Mikey," Eddie asked as you hopped into the passenger seat, dropping your bag to your feet.

"No, he–" you took a sudden shuttering breath that had Eddie's mood dropping significantly, "He was a customer. And he was being weird and he's been sitting in his car for the past half hour probably waiting for me to leave."

You had never seen Eddie this angry. His joking tone before about being mad at Mikey suddenly transforming into hot anger at the idea that he had left you alone for some creep to stalk you like you were his prey.

"I'm picking you up from now on, okay? You tell that son of a bitch if he does anything other than grovel at your feet for forgiveness I'm paying him a visit," he seethed, hand flexing so his rings glinted in the muted lighting.

You turned in your seat to face him, cheek resting against the headrest as you gazed up at him. His eyes were hard, jaw clenched tight and brows furrowed. You reached out a hand to cup his cheek, thumb stroking the high of his cheekbone until his face relaxed. He turned to meet your eyes, his own softening at the look you were giving him.

"I'm okay. I have a baseball bat tucked under the counter as a last minute resort," you assured, voice soft and melodic as he leaned into your palm. His hand reached out to grab your free one, linking your fingers together and squeezing.

"I don't like you being scared," he admitted.

"My fear turns to rage pretty quickly under pressure," you hoped some humor would lighten the mood and he managed to crack a small smile at your comment.

"You'll call me if you ever need anything, right?"

"Of course," you said. His eyes trailed from your abused your bottom lip from worrying it between your teeth to the tension set in your jaw.

His free hand moved up to caress yours, holding it tighter to his cheek as his other softly stroked your palm.

"I'll never let anything bad happen to you, you know that, right?" he said, eyes burning into yours, tone soft but firm. You felt a swell of emotion in your chest. You nodded but he seemed adamant to continue, like you didn't grasp the seriousness of his words.

"I don't care if it's a paper cut or a spider or if the president himself was bothering you, I'll handle it. You call me and I'm there," he pressed, leaning in closer so you could smell his smoky cologne.

You nodded again but your throat suddenly felt tight and your eyes were prickling with moisture. He clocked the tears instantly and he was leaning in, lips pressing to your forehead, hand moving to the back of your neck, weaving his fingers into the hair at the base of your head. He massaged it gently, lips trailing kisses down your temple, to your cheeks, on your nose, and finally to your lips. You didn't realize tears had fallen until he was swiping them away with his thumb.

Your free hand clenched the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as he pressed soft, comforting, sweet kisses on your face. His hand scratched your head, fingertips swirling in hypnotic circles until he was pulling back and stroking the hair out of your face. His lips found yours again, pillowy soft and warm as if they were forcing you to relax. The tension slowly eased from your body until your head felt light and your mind gooey.

All at once you wanted to say those three sacred words. You wanted to spill all of your feelings and emotions and tell him you loved him until the sun came up. You wanted to drown in him, kiss him until you didn't know your own name anymore. And you wanted him to know you were completely and utterly sold on him. He had ruined anyone else for you.

"You wanna come to mine?" he asked, his voice close to a whisper, breath fanning over your face as you wilted at the loss of his lips. You nodded, still unsure if you could form proper words, your head spinning with thoughts of him kissing you over and over again.

The drive was quick, his right hand sandwiched between both of yours as you watched the trees whir past the window. He gave you a few sideways glances, feeling his anger at your air headed coworker swirling in his stomach. But every brush of you fingers over his tense knuckles had him deflating until he was solely focused on you and your perfume and your pretty glassy eyes.

You had been in Eddie's room multiple times but most of them were to work on that school project. Only one other time had you been here after you had both admitted your feelings. And suddenly stepping into the muted lighting, eyes trailing over the myriad of band posters, piles of records and cassettes, a mountain of laundry, and his messy unmade bed had a wave of nervousness washing over you. Eddie sheepishly pulled his comforter up, haphazardly pushing a few shirts and a few books to the ground, clearing the space.

"You want a change of clothes?" he asked, pausing his movements to look at you. You blinked at him, bag already discarded by the door and nodded. You probably looked great in the polo shirt and plain jeans that your boss had you and Mikey wear for "professionalism" even though it was a gas station.

You could tell the Metallica shirt he had handed you was old because it was soft and well-worn, a few holes decorating the collar. You pulled it over your head, the material caressing your sides. You pulled on the boxers after, an unused pair he said bought in the wrong size and left to reside in the bottom of his drawer. You timidly pushed out the bathroom door, glancing down the dark hallway to where Eddie's uncle was snoring loudly on the couch before heading back to Eddie's room.

Only the bedside lamp was on now casting sleepy shadows around the room. Eddie was resting against the headboard of his bed, legs laid out, his own sleep shirt adorning his torso, rings discarded on the bedside table. His eyes found your form as you shut the door behind you, trailing up and down your clothes, his clothes, draped over your body. He had never seen anyone look so good in a T-shirt before and frankly he didn't think he ever would again. You were otherworldly to him.

Hesitantly, you crawled onto the bed, mattress dipping under your knees as you got closer. His arms instantly encircled around you, pulling you flush against him giving you no time to hesitate. You melted into him, his scent overwhelming you and his warmth fighting back the chill of the room. He pulled the duvet over the both of you, shuffling you down until you were laying before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"I was talking to Steve," he said breaking the silence, his voice rumbling into your neck making tingles run up your spine. Your arms wrapped around his torso, cheek pressing against his forehead, eyes fluttering shut as you waited for him to continue.

"He likes to give dating advice. Mostly unsolicited," he murmured, the vibrations tickling your skin. His hand trailed up your side until it found the side of your love handle peaking out from your shirt. His fingers grazed it, swirling around the velvety skin making you squirm slightly at the tickling sensation. You felt his grin.

"It's mostly all crap. All of his experience is from his shitty douchebag days. Probably why he goes on such shit dates." He pressed a kiss to your throat, his other arm tightening around your back to pull you impossibly closer. You felt your mind go gooey again at his affection.

"He did say though that," he paused and you felt him take a steadying breath, "if I waited any longer to ask you to be my girlfriend that you'd think I didn't like you anymore."

It took you a moment to move the thoughts around in your molasses mind before you processed his words.

"Which is ridiculous because even Dustin Henderson has known I've been in love with you for years," he added, fingers dipping under your shirt to draw shapes on the ridges of your ribs.

"What?" you whispered, eyes opening. His movements paused as if he himself just realized what he said. You felt him tense, hand pressing flat against your side as he let out a sigh. You pulled away from him slightly. You could tell the instant the rejection settled in his mind, his body growing tenser as he pulled back to meet your eyes. His eyes were dark, filled with hurt and worry. He tried to pull back more but your tight grip prevented him.

"You love me?" He was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering between both of yours weighing his options. You shuffled closer, grabbing his hand and placing it on your waist again, a silent command to keep drawing shapes. He softened, shifting closer as he shoved his insecurities to the back of his mind.

"If," he started, brown eyes flickering around your face, gaging every micro expression to make sure you weren't uncomfortable with his words, "If it doesn't scare you away, then yes."

He leaned in closer, breath fanning over your face, minty and cool. "If it does, then I have no idea what you're talking about." His hand squeezed your side making you let out a laugh, squirming again as a smile overtook your face. He stopped, eyes hooded as he gazed at you and your pretty smile and your warm eyes.

"Can you say it?" your voice was small, smile loosening until you were staring at him with big, vulnerable eyes. He knew then that you weren't scared. You weren't dismayed by his feelings. By the glint in your doe eyes and the way you melted at his affection, he knew you felt the same way.

"You need to answer my question first," he decided. Your brows pulled together slightly as you tried to remember what he was referring to. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your pouted lips as if he couldn't help himself. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

You felt your face flush and your pulse spike. You nodded, pressing closer hoping he would kiss you again.

"With words, baby," he insisted, hovering his lips over yours, hand moving up to stroke the swell of your cheek.

"Yes," you breathed, feeling like you might never stop blushing.

He finally leaned in and pressed a searing kiss to your lips.

"I love you," he said, hand stroking your hair back so he could kiss you deeply again and again and again, repeating the phrase between kisses like he couldn't get tired of saying it.

"I love you, too," you managed to say before he was covering your lips again, greedy for your attention.

You felt dizzy at the intensity, love drunk on Eddie and his velvet kisses and sugary words. You didn't care that it had only been three weeks and that an English project that you both barely managed to get a C on had been the catalyst. You had loved Eddie for a year and he had loved you for more and you'd be damned if you waited any longer to tell him you loved him over and over and over again.

Link to my masterlist :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x y/n

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ccscocoapuffs · 1 year

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Stu Macher NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's a cuddler, after sex Stu wants to go straight to cuddles. After you two cuddle for a little awhile you can probably talk him into showering with you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his eyes; he thinks they're his best feature.

He is a boob guy. Stu loves titties, holding them, squeezing them, kissing them, you name it Stu loves to do it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Stu likes to cum on your face if you will let him. If not then he will either cum on your stomach or inside of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He is super jealous of Randy. Randy is always looking at you and trying his hardest to flirt. Stu secretly wants to fuck you in front of him to prove that you belong to Stu and Stu only.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's not majorly experienced. He has a general knowledge of what to do but he still has things to learn.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. He loves to see your face and take in all your reactions while he fucks you. It also allows him to still kiss you and talk to you while you two are going at it

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

its Stu. GOOFY ALL THE TIME. He's more goofy than he is serious.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it trimmed yet it's still pretty thick. Its a dark blonde color the same shade as his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Stu likes to be goofy hence why he isn't exactly the most romantic. He likes to make you giggle during and that sorta his specialty. He will do things in everyday life that's kinda romantic though, like give you a random flower.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

ALL THE DAMN TIME. He masturbates several times a day.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage, impact play, S&M, and knife play

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere. He loves to fuck you in his bedroom however he has fucked you in the school bathroom, billys room, his parents' room, the couch, you name it you've probably done it there.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

sitting on his lap and slightly grinding your jips into him is probably one of the biggest things that gets him going. the other thing would probably be if you asked him to wear the Ghostface mask while he fucked you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's lowkey a little nervous about Anal.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

have you seen his tongue?

This boy has SKILLS. he knows how to eat pussy and eat it good.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes it fast and a little rough, though he can be soft and slower at times to. He likes soft and slower the most because it lets him get deeper.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Stu is always down for a quickie. like I mentioned before he fucks you EVERYWHERE. Quickes are sort of one of his things he just prefers.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is always down for a risk. He tries new things with you all the time and is down to do so, all you have to do is ask and Stu will at least try it with you. How will you know if you don't like it unless you try it?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has major stamina he can go 5-6 rounds and still be horny. he loves to fuck you it makes him feel like he has a purpose for you and that purpose is to please.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He will use a vibrator on you every now and then while he eats you out. He owns a fleshlight and some cockrings that he uses on himself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is a massive tease. He loves teasing it makes him even more ready for when he gets to fuck you. Sometimes he wonders if he likes teasing you or fucking you more, that's how much he likes to tease.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is LOUD. he moans so fucking loud you have to cover his mouth when you two are having quickies and don't wanna get caught. He loves hearing you moan for him to, It lets him know he is doing a good job.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves to be praised. If you praise him, he'd probably cum right there.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Stu is skinny and thin and about 7 inches. He has a small upwards curve and a vein that runs through the tip.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a massive sex drive. He is always ready for you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Matter of minutes. He'll pull out of you snuggle up and fall asleep.

#stu matcher x reader #stu macher #stu macher smut #scream #ghostface #alphabet

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thedeviltohisangel · 1 month

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Meatball idea: Cass walks him when Demarco is busy/flying as a happy distraction and when Bucky is around, he’ll join them and it feels so domestic but neither want to say anything

Domestic Cass and John make me scream!!!!

I like that Cass is such a girl in that she sees a fluffy dog and just immediately thinks he is the most handsome thing on the planet. She sneaks him treats and maybe brushes him once in a while and always is willing to throw the tennis ball around.

Was literally just discussing with @gloryofroses19 that she is his legal guardian when Demarco goes down and takes care of him until they can be properly united (which the show jipped us of!). (Also feel free to join our discussion in what kind of dog John/Cass should get themselves)

But long dog walks around base as a couple my heart!!!! They hold hands and chat about their days and wave to people they see. They stop in town and John buys them ice cream and Cass lets Meatball get his own little cup and she feels so at home. Like John is becoming family. And Meatball proudly carries home a stick and whines when John says goodnight and Cass just says don't worry i feel that way too.

#masters of the air #john egan #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan fanfiction #john egan x oc #john egan x reader #answered #cass and bucky

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justatalkingface · 10 months

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The 'Great' MHA Read Along, Part Three (Chapters 8-11): "Support" Gear and Dodging Death.

Well. You asked for this, so I deliver; upon your head be it.

So. We start off with talking about costumes... actually pretty interesting, though, with companies doing these costumes, I'm kind of surprised there's not brand names on them; All Might, Brought To You By Sony, or something. I guess that was a level of realism Hori wasn't prepared to deal with.... (Note Bakugou's costume comments; 'kill with my knees'?) but then we get to Izuku. And I can't help but feel jipped by this, in a couple of ways. Izuku ends up looking... well, like his mom made his costume, a sore, underdressed thumb compared to all the professionally dressed heroes... and he's also the only one whose face is entirely covered for some reason?

On the other hand, though, it is a nice touching scene, the family reconnecting, Inko admitting her mistakes and that she'll support Izuku.... but couldn't it have been done differently? As is, it feels like Inko is being used as a blatant emotional tool to make Izuku different, and that's rough since her character is barely existent in the first place, and quickly fades away into oblivion as time passes. In the same way that Izuku is the only one who can't actually use his Quirk, the same way he's the only one who is so completely unprepared for UA, he's now the only one who who doesn't actually have a proper costume.

I mean, I get it; on one hand, it's symbolic, and the way he eventually updates it shows his evolution as a hero. But at the same time, I've already made it clear what I think of Izuku starting off so behind, so I don't actually like that symbolism, and even if I was, the narrative feels like it's going a little too hard on the 'he doesn't belong' thing at this point. First time around, I was fine with how Izuku was, and even now my dislike of the starting situation is more on a meta scale than anything, despite the bad logic behind it, because it's written in so engagingly, but I never once liked the costume thing.

There's also the question of why she's OK with Izuku going to UA with either, A, no Quirk that she knows of, or B, a Quirk he just... randomly got, somehow, while applying? When, according to a literal doctor (Dr. Diabolus Ex Machina himself; is the fact that AFO's most loyal minion apparently was Izuku's doctor going to be relevent at some point or...?), that was never going to happen? Ever?

There's... there's a lot of questions she should be asking, here, and as far as we can tell, that just never happens. This whole dynamic here, there was all sorts of room to play with it, expand it, develop Inko as a character and Izuku's background more (and look at the fact that she found out her son was Quirkless and... got fat? Because she handled that guilt badly? The way they talk is like they never talked about Inko saying he couldn't be a hero until just then. Did they... did they really just never ever talk about this again until just now? The more you think about all, the more things don't make sense) and Hori didn't just drop the ball with this, he spiked it into the ground rather than use it.

I'm... sort of grudgingly OK with All Might being a not great teacher here, but not really. I mean, it's still in line with how his brain got ripped out of his head after Arc One, which at this point is something I have a well established history of being... not well pleased about, but it'd track that he wouldn't know how to train students in basic heroism, unlike exercising....

But that leads back to the question of, 'Then why is he a teacher if he can't teach?' Him doing something he explicitly has no idea how to do makes no sense. It's super double dumb though since, again, this is All Might's precious powered-time, and he's using it to... not just to teach kids when he could be saving lives, but teach kids badly, and again, that's stupid, and everyone involved, including Nezu, Super Genius, should realize this.

God, he's so badly shoe-horned into all this I'm actually wondering if he was supposed to die in Arc One and pass on his Quirk to Izuku that way, and him being in at all is Hori changing that plan at the last minute.

So, before I start on Bakugou vs Izuku... let's pause it here so I can go on a tangent: Bakugou's support gear.

There's several problems with it as an in-setting item, all focused around a simple fact: they're not there for 'support', they're weapons. Fundamentally, Bakugou's Gauntlets are just... giant explosive cannons, just like the literal grenades he gets, or the edgy machine guns in late story. No other hero's support gear we see are like that, pure weapons based only around harming others (I remember later, a Random Civilian gets his hand on support gear, I think from Detnerat gear, and that's a weapon, but A, that's from Detnerat, and so made to bring society to its knees, literally, and two, the entire point of that little scene was to show how stupid and helpless civilians are, and how they should dare get above themselves and try to defend themselves (which is clearly set up to support sheep narrative of civilians Hri loves to pull, while also making it make less sense since, if civilians doing anything backfires that badly, then yeah, maybe they're right to do literally nothing so they can't fuck it up) and so I am far from giving it the benefit of the doubt.)

I know later, Bakugou take one off and Izuku uses it, and so they're just... literally giant explosive guns, literally just a pair of guns he has strapped to his arms. Everyone else has gear that supports their Quirks, even Snipe with his actual gun (which enhances his Quirk, which is dependant on a projectile), while Bakugou alone has something that replaces it.

Thematically, that's weird and has bad vibes. On a more practical level, someone, somewhere, must have approved this thing, looked at this design with the more or less literal description of 'giant bomb', and said, 'Yeah, this is OK, let's do it'. This basiclly has no purpose other than to kill people or to cause massive property damage; there's no... safe mode, no limiting, it's just point and FIRE EVERYTHING!!! Why? Why did they just hand it to him? (And, as a side note, how was it full enough to use when Bakugou had just got it? There's no way he sweat enough to fill that thing; otherwise he would have collapsed from dehydration.)

So. Yeah. I have problems with that. And now the fight, and I find this fact distinctive:

Bakugou starts off this fight by proclaiming he's going to use this to beat up Izuku. I'm going to be honest here; if I was a teacher? I would absolutely respond to that, somehow, even if it's simple as, 'Bakugou, no, also now I'm watching you'. It's not exactly a reach to call that an obvious red flag.

(Side note; 'Rage You Damn Nerd' or 'Ferocity of a Fucking Nerd'? Really? What the hell is this chapter title.)

Flashback: Bakugou, as a kid, saying to murder those villains. God, really? Was nobody ever concerned about that?

And then Izuku counters Bakugou, and he just... loses it. Completely. Because of course; how dare Izuku fight back! How dare he resist Bakugou's righteous anger?!

And yet another reminder of the cringy fact that Bakugou was first place, despite the fact it's against his narrative set up of being the little fish, just because of how much Hori hypes him up.

Bakugou: I've been torturing you for all these years, and you've been sitting back and taking it. Clearly, you've been hiding your Quirk all this time, just so you could laugh at me!

Me: ????

Holy fuck, the ego on that comment. I've heard about 'everything being about you', but this is nuts.

Izuku builds up courage to face his fears/bully, and meanwhile Bakugou flashes back to how useless everyone else is, and how great he is, and how dare Izuku stand up to him, when he gave him the perfect name to describe how worthless he is? How dare he try to rescue him that one time when they were kids?! How dare he have concern?!?!?!

*leans back in chair*

Hoolyyy fuck, Bakugou, that is a lot of clusterfuck in such a small, three page sequence.

'Ah, Iida. What a wholesome palate cleanser', I think, more or less in lockstep with Uraraka. I love how his big plan is literally cleaning; I mean, I get the logic, but still.

Alas. All good things end.

So, for a lot of people, the big, defining moment of Bakugou's story and how bad they think he is is Chapter One and the suicide baiting. That's obviously shit, but to me, this is the big moment, the, if you pardon the drama (I can't think of a way to phrase it better), the 'original sin' of MHA as a whole: Bakugou tries to kill someone, and absolutely nothing happens.

This isn't an exaggeration, BTW; let me lay out the scene here:

Bakugou is armed with, as I said before, an insanely aggressive weapon, one that has no purpose other than to kill people or destroy things. He is given this weapon with, apparently, absolutely no comments about being careful with it, not to harm someone with it, or anything, and then takes it into an exercise with his classmates.

This exercise takes place in a building, one that can easily be damaged by the blast of that thing. As this is a multi-story building, even a blast not aimed at someone could easily get someone killed if part of the building collapses on top of them.

Bakugou takes this weapon, and he aims it at a human being. To top it off, All Might, who by all means should be an authority in, 'Yeah, this could definitely kill someone', explicitly tells him that, 'No, you'll kill him!' before he fires.

Bakugou's response? 'He'll be fine if he dodges!"

And then he fires.

And the fact that, not only does this happen at all, but this fight continues afterwords, is inexcusable. Blatantly, obviously, inexcusable. This is, unironically, Bakugou attempting to kill someone.

On tape, no less!

I mean, hell, with this one chapter, we have the means (the gauntlet), the motive (Izuku's... existence? The fact that he dares to stand against Bakugou?), and the opportunity (this entire exercise), along with witnesses watching him do it in real time. If this had hit Izuku, the trial against Bakugou would have been a cakewalk.

And the thing is? Everything before this, everything, is something that could be excused. Granted, it would strain the suspension of belief to the breaking point at times, but everyone could be that stupid and/or that biased, in theory.

But this? There is absolutely no way that this could happen, and be acceptable in the logic of this story. I don't care if All Might is literally missing his brain, I don't care if Aizawa just.... hates Izuku with a deep and unexplainable loathing (BTW, I think I forgot to mention last time that Aizawa sabotaged Izuku's scores? Well, considering how Izuku with his super toss was in a contest against a girl that only is invisible, there's no way he was in last place, so... yeah. Aizawa sabotaged him). Forget their heroic instincts, forget all of that; if they let this happen, everyone involved with this would have their lives destroyed. They can't cover it up, because at some point, Inko is really going to wonder, 'Hey, where is my kid at?' and the second she asks that everything crumbles.

That, and why would they try to cover it up? Bakugou's character is, in many ways, the cliche of the sports star from a small school, who the entire school, if not the town, bends over backwards to keep him in that position (which, ironically, never would have helped Aldera that much, because Bakugou, as is, would never give them credit, respect, or money. Bakugou, if he improved enough to give them that? Would give them shit for what they let him do instead. That plan was doomed from the start). The thing is? That tolerance only goes so far; sure, he can bully the nerd all day long, and hell, he can beat him half-to-literal-death if there's no one there of importance to serve as witness, but this? This isn't just attacking the nerd. This is chasing him in a car. And, when the nerd escapes into the school? The jock then drives into the school, and only stops when the car itself gets jammed in a wall.

There's a point, in other words, where all that tolerance ends. This is waay past that point.

That, and the fact that UA isn't a small school, with a sports department propped up by their one good athlete; UA is the school that athlete wants to go to. To UA, Bakugou the metaphorical athlete is completely replaceable; how many students were trying to get in again?

And all of that? All of that is assuming that every single one of them is, in fact, the absolute worse, trash, shallow self-serving shit versions of them possible, instead of being heroes, in a school for heroes, for whom there should be standards all over the place.

So the fact that he fires this shot, and that the flash-stepping All Might doesn't just bitch slap him out of it beforehand, or at least make it clear if he does his heroic life is over, and then afterwards he allows this fight to continue, and then after that, there's barely even a harsh word said in response to this, by anyone, much less any sort of consequences for it, school based or otherwise, shatters my SOD into dust.

The logic and foundation of this setting can not support this sequence of events. So... why? Why did this happen? Why was this allowed to happen?

Bakugou. The completely irrational, completely assholish Bakugou, who would do this, because this falls in line with his behavior from what we've seen of him thus far... if he was held to account for this? Given consequences, realistic consequences, for his realistically horrific behavior? He'd be gone, at least. Out of UA, out of Izuku's life (if only), and out of the story.

But... for whatever reason, even before all the polls came in (I think), Hori just wanted Bakugou to stay in the story. Why? Maybe there was a more proper redemption arc in the works. Maybe it was always going to be like it was now. Maybe Hori just likes Bakugou. Who knows?

The point is Bakugou, The Living Idiot Ball, is born into the story at this moment, a character who makes everyone around him their impossibly worse selves. His behavior will improve, somewhat, but the behavior of those around him won't.

Well, thankfully, the building doesn't collapse on all of them after that (thought maybe it should have? I'm not an expert, but that is a big hole there)... and here's something else that bothers me.

I can't understand All Might's motivation here for not stopping the match, as in I'm looking at his stated motivation for that, and it doesn't make sense.

In his head, he's talking about this will fuel Izuku's growth, basiclly. And, maybe it does, but that's not the problem here. The problem is Izuku could die, and is getting some serious injuries as Bakugou beats the living shit out of him; it's not worth all of that for some extra growth now, when he still has his entire school life to improve. And sure, we know that, in a meta sense, this is A, prep for the villains soon to show up, and that, B, Izuku does not, in fact, have his entire school life to get better. But All Might doesn't know that; All Might doesn't have any reason to think AFO is still alive, much less masterminding an attack. So... why the rush?

Before, he was rushing Izuku's training, but there was a concrete reason: Izuku needed to get into U.A. Well... mission accomplished; he's in. So why the push?

To give a somewhat in character reason, I guess, to try and excuse Bakugou, The Living Idiot Ball.

Meanwhile, all the characters can't stop talking up about how great a fighter Bakugou is, because it's not enough to excuse him from a murder attempt, apparently everyone needs to make sure the audience knows about how much of a 'beast' Bakugou is!

And, all of this, while Bakugou has this crazed sounding rant about how Izuku is 'looking down' on him, when until five seconds ago he thought he was beneath your boot. Even while they're fighting, Izuku can't help but talk up the person who single handedly ruined his entire life.

*sighs for forever*

Anyways, Izuku barely claims a win with teamwork, determination, and the magically ability to remember what his objective is!

(cue funny little omake where Mt Lady breaks her office with puns)

And... the last chapter of this arc: 'Bakugou's Starting Line'. Ugh.

Anyways, Bakugou beats Izuku half to death, but he loses. He loses, and has a mental break down because of that, and All Might is remarkably fine with this whole situation.

Then, Momo proves that she's smart and on top of things (enjoy that while it lasts), the other fights happen, which... brutally honest, I can't care much about, beyond Todoroki proving that, suprise suprise, he's actually the big fish in the 1A lake (enjoy that while it lasts as well! The nerfs are coming for everyone not named Bakugou or Izuku), which is yet more mental damage on Bakugou's oh so sensitive ego.

Izuku, unsurprisingly, ends up needing to be put back together after all that, and Recovery Girl has a rare positive portrayal where she says that Izuku getting beat to hell and back is, in fact, bad, which All Might agrees with like a sheepish child rather than an adult who has carried massive responsibilities for years now and who, need I remind you all, was not too long ago competent and did in fact avoid letting Izuku be permanently harmed... you know, the good old days.

Anyways, everyone is impressed by Izuku, cool, cool, and then... Izuku shits on it by telling Bakugou, 'This isn't my Quirk!', thus locking in his participation in late story stuff forever.

And again... why? Why does he feel responsible for this? Why does he need to make sure he's not... accidently, tricking Bakugou by letting him be an idiot and think he was just... holding back his entire life, and instead all but blows a secret of nigh incalculable value. To his bully. Because his bully felt bad.

*resists the urge to scream into my desk*

And, for a second time this sequence... why? Why would he do that? Why is he simping so damn hard for him?

*spreads hands*

Bakugou, The Living Idiot Ball, whom proximity to drives idiotic and irrational behavior into all.

And then Bakugou has tears in his eyes as he realizes he's not the top dog, and we're apparently supposed to feel sorry for him, and then All Might shows up, burning more of his precious time to talk to Bakugou, not long after his murder attempt, and rather than trying to... chastise him or anything, he rushes to tell Bakugou to cheer up!

I don't know about you, but if I could only give Bakugou one piece of advice, it would definitely be, 'protect your ego!'

Then Izuku affirms to the audience that Bakugou is still the standard he's chasing after, just in case we didn't get the message that Bakugou is the best, because Hori wants to make that very clear in our minds.

Finally: villians. ...Why is the mindless Nomu in the bar?

#bnha critical #mha critical #The 'Great' MHA Read Along #bakugou critical #izuku deserves better #bakugou the living idiot ball #the arc the SOD breaks and never quite recovers #i have no idea what i'm doing #what the fuck did i just bring upon this cursed land

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