#I think I could actually make those 2 hour long deep dive videos you could all watch me unravel

[badsalmonella]

Every day I'm using all of my willpower to not become a Charmed (2018) youtube reviewer

[myelocin]

To Us, A Love Story Unwritten | Kuroo T., Miya A.

Hello!! Before you begin reading, THIS STORY IS A PART TWO to Redefining You , which I highly recommend you read first because a lot of things are connected! :D

Part 1 | Part 2 | Epilogue | Bonus

Synopsis: Time away from Tetsurou leads you to the serendipity that is Miya Atsumu. 

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou, You, Miya Atsumu

Genre/Warnings/Tags: None! Angst,  HEALING, Hurt & Comfort, surfer!Atsumu, tattooed!Kuroo, Fluff

WC: 7600+

a/n: here’s a word dump of my feelings bcos i made an oopsie and projected real ppl in 2d characters again

*playlist if u want maximum feelies: Blue (Elina), Miles Apart (Nick Wilson)

-

The thought of healing didn’t cross your mind until some months later.

In the mornings after that morning, you stood in your balcony, leaning against the railing with a mug of coffee, your thoughts wandering. Sometimes you thought of what kind of coffee you liked, and other times you caught yourself wondering how Tetsurou moved through his six AMs. Morning thoughts were reserved for the things you prefer to keep out of your head during the day. Tetsurou, of course, had always been an exception. He somehow always flowed in your train of thought whether the numbers on your watch flashed 3am or 3pm.

Or now, you thought after taking a quick peek at the time in your phone, 6:19 AM; all you could think about was how sad his golden eyes looked against the black of Tokyo’s backdrop.

Tetsurou making his way into your thoughts has always how it’s been for almost a decade, and habits are a little hard to break. At least, that’s what you say to reason with yourself.

Thinking back to your words that night, the “I love you” just kind of slipped out. But you know you meant it. Shifting your wrist to the side, you studied the tattoo again, then closed your eyes to remember the expression on your best friend’s features.

You meant the I love you, you told yourself again. Towards yourself that was for sure; towards Tetsurou.

And that’s always going to be the case, taunted the voice in the back of your head.

After that night, Tetsurou had broken up with his long term girlfriend for good. Though he didn’t necessarily ruin himself over the breakup—there were changes.

He still texted you at odd hours to show you a video he thought was funny, still showed up to your apartment for movie nights, and more or less was still present. But it was during the particularly sentimental scenes in the movie where he’d choose to refill the popcorn or grab another soda, and you could see that his can was still half full. You noticing that Tetsurou always chose to pick the other boba shop that was on the other side of town never flew past you either. You knew that that was the shop he always used to take her after classes—so even seeing how his hands never failed to tighten against the steering wheel when the two of you would drive by, you always pretended not to notice. Even though four months had passed, you know that for him, the wound was still fresh.

And remembering how sad he looked that night, you couldn’t help yourself to feel for his pain. At the end of the day, weren’t you just two people who yearned for the love that couldn’t be yours?

So you sigh and take a sip of coffee from the mug; it had grown a little cold. The digital clock on your phone read 6:31 AM next to a text from Tetsurou asking if you had time for lunch later.

Replying a quick ‘yep. meet u at the usual :)’, did nothing for you trying to have a more productive day off today and thus the morning felt a little slower than normal, so you sigh. Again.

It was going to be one of those days.

-

Tetsurou always made it a point to look gorgeous. Was he trying? Probably not, but that son a bitch knew people gave him looks that lingered a bit too long to be considered just a passing glance. You nearly snort in laughter at the way he opens the door to the café a little too, for better words, extravagantly, and walk to you purposely taking his time because you could tell he felt the way the young mom sitting at the table near the counter was giving him the look.

Then again, you don’t blame her. You weren’t too far from her reaction, albeit you actually had the decency to not openly gawk at him. Tetsurou plopped down in the chair opposite from you and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and propping them up the table before grabbing the menu from the middle of the table.

Already knowing your order, and his even though he still looks through the menu every time, you sit in your seat waiting for him to settle on the same thing he ordered the last time you ate there.

“Tetsu, why do you have to be so extra every time you see someone looking at you for more than three seconds?”

He cocked his head to the side and peeked at you from behind the menu, “Because I’m hot, tree.”

Though you rolled your eyes at the nickname, you still smiled at the familiar banter, “I still don’t get why you call me tree when you’re the literal beanpole in this friendship.”

“That’s rich coming from you, considering you told people you knew a talking rooster in highschool,” he deadpanned, but you knew he was on the edge of a chuckle from the way he emphasized his words.

“Hey,” you raised your arms up in defense, “people thought you were interesting that way so…”

Tetsurou set the menu down and rolled his eyes at your response as the waiter greeted the two of you. Before Tetsurou could open his mouth to say what he wanted, you spoke, “I’ll get the carbonara and he’ll get the tonkatsu ramen—“

“Oi-“ he interrupted from the side, still, you continued, “we’ll also get iced tea, extra sugar for him, and a little less for me.”

The waiter looked between the two of you waiting for Tetsurou to finish speaking but he only leans back huffing out a, “She’s right.”

You smirked. “You get the same thing every time.”

“Well what if I want something else one day?” he replied to which you rolled your eyes as a reply.

In between bites, Tetsurou looks up from his meal, “Any plans?”

You twirled the straw of your drink around the liquid and looked at him, “I was thinking of traveling somewhere. My boss is letting me take some time off, and season’s kind of slow, so might as well.”

He nods, and then points his chopsticks at you, sighing, “Oh to be young and employed with an employer who doesn’t want to kill you with work.”

“We’re literally seven months apart,” you deadpan.

He huffs in his seat and continues eating.

-

“Have you decided where you’re going?”

You look to your left at Tetsurou who’s facing you, no longer paying attention to the movie playing in the TV.  Smoothing out the blanket on your lap, you sigh and tilt your head. “Kinda? I’m thinking somewhere warm. Kinda miss the sea.”

At this point the movie you two settled on a few hours ago had been completely forgotten, so you shift your body and face him. He offers you your third (or was it the fourth?) can of beer for that night, which you take and pop open immediately.

“(Y/n), can you even swim?” he laughs.

You glare at him from behind your drink. “I can go and look pretty in the beach while sipping my margaritas thank you very much.” 

Tetsurou clinks his can against yours and leans back against the couch, shifting to a more comfortable position. When he finally settles, he positions his head in a way that’s still facing you.

Draping your legs across his lap, you rearrange the blanket so that it covers the both of you. You feel the weight of his hands leaning against your legs and then hear him speak, “How long are you gonna be gone?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, a month? Two months? Haven’t even got the ticket yet.”

He gives you a look you can’t decipher, and then his voice becomes a little quiet, “What if I want to go with you?”

“Tetsu, you know your job won’t let you off that long,” you reply. 

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and pout at you, “You’re going to go and find a new surfer best friend who’ll buy you margaritas that flips his hair and you’ll forget about me.”

You chuckle. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

At this point the alcohol must have hit the both of you because you suddenly look at him, eyes soft in the way you usually would mask in the hours you were sober. He looks at you, equally as deep in the state of inebriation as you are because his eyes are as hazy as the slur in his tone when he says, “Nope! Because you looooove me (y/n).”

And he laughs at his own joke, tilting his head back to take another swig of beer. The comedic undertone flies past you anyway, because you fiddle with the edge of your sweater and sadly nod, “Yeah. I do”

In front of you, Tetsurou raises his hand, smiling, then hollers, “High five! Love you too.”

If it wasn’t for the liquid confidence, you would’ve laughed along to his joke and take another gulp of your beer to swallow the confession—but you’re four cans in and Tetsurou saying that he loves you too clouds the usual boundaries swimming in your head.

He doesn’t notice you when you take another heavy gulp from your can, or bite your lip afterwards, but he hears you when you say, “I do, you dumb fuck, I love you.”

And as soon as you say it, you feel him look at you. You choose to keep your head down. A few beats of silence passes before he speaks, “I know, (y/n),” he reaches forward to grab your hand, taking it into his. He traces the lining of the tattoo before continuing, “I know your tattoo story. And I’m still proud of-“

“I love you, Tetsurou,” you could almost wince at how loud it echoed in the silence, and the alcohol is still swimming in your system so you take another gulp hoping to dive deeper.

You feel him stop tracing the lines on your wrist so you take your hand back to your lap. He let the quiet envelop the room again before he spoke, and you could tell he was careful with his words.

“That time in the balcony, when you said you loved someone…” he trailed off so you look up and catch his stare. His eyes were still glassy; your head was still swimming, the rational thoughts further muffled by liquid confidence.

“I meant you,” you say, and try to fight the urge to break eye contact.

And because Tetsurou chooses to reply with a hushed ‘I’m sorry.’, you tell him ‘it’s okay, Tetsu.’ and retreat to your bedroom with a mumbled excuse of sleeping off a headache.

You lie in the dark with one hand over your eyes and sniffle quietly. You hear his “I’m sorry,” echo in the silence, but you try to ignore the thought at how immediate the apology was. He always had a habit of thinking about his answers in uncertain situations.

But you know him more than you give yourself credit for, you realize, so you shut your eyes and ignore the sting of the tears because you know. You’ve always known everything you felt for him had been on the unrequited side for the most part.

The certainty in his apology still hurt none the less.

--

That morning you wake up with a slight pound in your head and an empty apartment. At least he didn’t stick around, you thought, fully aware that the conversation afterwards would have most likely been too awkward to sit through.

Sighing as you rounded the corner to enter the kitchen, you paused in your track to look at the table where a plate of omurice lay in the middle next to a glass of sweet tea, the condensation still a little fresh on the glass.

Taking a seat and whispering a soft, “Itadakimasu”, you picked up the glass and took a sip. It didn’t taste as sweet as his.

Your eyes still stung, but you couldn’t help but smile at the taste. Looks like he remembers how you like your tea too.

-

After that night, there never really came a talk about where the two of you stood. Two days after the not so sober confession, Tetsurou showed up at your door with a bag of donuts demanding your company to picnic at this new spot he found recently. So you played along and pretended like nothing happened. The rational thoughts were back, your head no longer cloudy so this time, you laughed along with Tetsurou.

Though you could tell this time around his gaze towards you lingered a little longer, and he began to have moments where it looked like he was contemplating to start a conversation then ultimately deciding against it at the very last second. It was fine, though. You weren’t sure if you were ready to have that conversation just yet.

So the next few weeks flowed like how it always did. Movie nights, playful banters, small talk, and beer—only this time you never drank more than two.

“Have you decided where you’re going?” he asks.

“Yeah, there’s this island in the Philippines. Siargao. My flight’s next week. The place looks sunny enough, but I might hop around the other islands if I stay long enough,” you reply.

“Don’t drown,” he laughs, and sets his beer down. You turn your focus back to the movie after chuckling at his reply and ignore how he never picked up a third can this time. And unlike before, he didn’t ask if he could come along this time.

-

Tetsurou drops you off with a half hug and a request that you update him as often as you can.

After a final wave at the gate, you board the plane with a return ticket to Japan slotted for two months later down the year.  

-

The island of Siargao is as beautiful as the pictures you always see on social media. Outside the unit you rented, was a stretch of untouched beach that was some ways from the main square of the city. And true to your words, for the first week of your arrival, you spent your days kicking the sand, lounging by the water and sipping on margaritas.

Tetsurou sent you multiple messages during the first few days, to which you replied through selfies with your margaritas. He’d send you a photo of himself rolling his eyes with the caption “off to work, because I have a job. Like some people.” , or something along similar lines.

You tried to think this wasn’t some random trip you took just because of Tetsurou. It had been a long time since you last took a vacation for yourself; work was lenient, you saved up enough, and frankly, you missed the beach. Tetsurou was just the icing on top of the cake that helped you make your decision, you rationalized.

Plus, you thought, this place is paradise.

And you held on to that thought because a few days later came the knock on your door at six in the morning that introduced you to the serendipity you never could have predicted. Your little summer serendipity came in the form of a six foot one, and totally ripped blonde named Miya Atsumu.

He knocked at your door asking if you knew any places that rented out surfboards and scooters. By the time he was at the third word of his sentence, you knew he was Japanese because of the accent that lingered after he spoke. By the fourth sentence, he smiled in a way that had his eyes crinkling. And by the end of the conversation, by whatever being possessed you in that moment, probably that extra margarita, you had agreed to go to the main square in the city with him.

Atsumu knocks on your door for the second time that day at five in the afternoon wearing a loose white button shirt and another eye crinkling smile. Dangling a set of keys in one hand he nodded behind him and said, “Ready to go? I got the scooter from the place you told me.”

This time, you voiced out your hesitation, “Ahh, it’s alright. You don’t have to get dinner for me tonight. I just happened to know a place.”

He smiles and blinks at you laughing, “Ya travelin’ alone?” You nod then he continues, “Same here. Might as well know someone in the area. Heard the food here’s good, so let’s go.”

You open your mouth to protest but he turns and walks towards his scooter so you huff and follow after him. He did have a point. You were going to be there for two months so might as well actually take the time to know some people.

-

After Atsumu helps you fasten the belt on the helmet, he tells you to ‘feel free to hold on to my waist if ya need to balance.’ and then backs to the main street. Your hands rest on his shoulders as he drives along a road parallel to the stretch of water on your far left. It must have been close to seven, you take note, because as you glance up the colors in the sky begin to blend into mellow hues of orange and red.

You look forward and glance at Atsumu’s reflection in the side mirror before briefly catching his eye. From the mirror, you could see an expression that was somewhere between a smirk and a smile.

“Ya like what ya see?” he yells over the wind.

You squeeze his shoulder, then lean closer saying, “Just drive. I’m not in the mood to die.”

He laughs over the holler of the open air and you can’t help but smile along to how his laugh lingers in the air.

Soon enough, the two of you settle into a restobar by the beach, one close enough to the water where you could ditch your flip flops and let your feet sink in the sand.

This has got to be the fifth margarita I’m drinking today, you think to yourself before taking a sip. Still good though, you inwardly snort. Atsumu sits across you from the table nursing his own choice of drink.

The atmosphere was nice, the live musician strumming his first song in the background. Then Atsumu speaks from across you, “So,” he begins, “How long ya stayin’?”

You fiddle with the straw of your drink, facing him, “Two months. You?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know yet. Off season and there’s not much to do back home, so might as well be bored somewhere a little more scenic.”

“Indefinite vacation,” you nod—impressed, “Must be hella loaded.”

He laughs again, “I’m comfortable.”

The silence envelops the two of you again, but as the musician begins another song, from the corner of your eye you see Atsumu listen, clap, and smile so you decide maybe befriending this stranger won’t be so bad after all.

The next night you head for go for drinks, Tetsurou messages you with a picture of him and Kenma in the car with a caption, “movie night minus the traitor who left the country >:((“ and you reply with your signature margarita selfie with Atsumu throwing a peace sign to your right. Tetsurou replies with a smiley face and you don’t hear from him for the rest of the night.

-

The next few weeks consisted of waking up shy of the sunrise and walks along the trail where the waves crept towards the sand. Atsumu liked to join you in the mornings, of course, the days he actually wakes up before ten AM. Some days you’d watch him peddle out into the water catching wave after wave as you sat in the sand, under a shade. You didn’t really go out into the water and preferred to just sit in the sun, so the times Atsumu would catch a break, he’d lay out a towel next to you and sit to talk.

He was talkative. Extremely talkative. But it was welcome, you suppose. He asked aimless questions during conversations. Conversations with him usually sounded like this: “(y/n)?” “Yep?” “Whadda ya think about riceballs?” “They’re…okay, I guess.” “Good to know.”

It was endearing, you suppose. Atsumu respected your boundaries and never pried, that fact was for sure. Though, he chose to fill in the beats of silence with little facts about his life. Over the course of the next month, in the moments you’d spend with Atsumu during the day, you’ve learned that he was playing for a professional volleyball team, he’s originally not from Tokyo, he tripped during a fan meeting, has a twin brother who’s darn good at cookin’ (he emphasized), and that his favorite food is fatty tuna. You don’t remember specifically asking, but he talks anyway you can’t bring yourself to mind one bit.

During the past month and some, Tetsurou sporadically texts you a greeting to which you reply to—but this time, it wasn’t until much, much later that you realize you didn’t think too much about the change of tone and much hastier conversations. You usually ended the phone call this time around, too.

Nearing the last few stretches of golden hour, Atsumu would routinely knock at your door and drag you out to walk around the beach only retreating to your respective units hours after the sunset.

It was during this one night where Atsumu sits you down and stars a small bonfire. He excused himself for a brief moment then came back with a Tupperware of what you assumed to be snacks, a blanket, and a hoodie which he lent you (that up to now you still haven’t returned).  You smile as he takes his seat next to you, comfortable in his hoodie.

“So,” Atsumu breaks the silence, “how come yer runnin’ away for two months?”

“That’s kinda sudden,” you reply.

He knocks your shoulder with his lightly before speaking again, “You don’t have ta’ share if you don’t wanna.”

“No pressure,” he says again and his eyes crinkle at his smile so you press your shoulder against his and say, “I just wanted time for myself I guess.”

He nods, so you continue, “It’s nothing dramatic, really. For a big part of my life I just…lived according to how people placed me in their lives. I guess I just wanted the space where I had to make decisions from nothing if that even makes any sense.”

“Depends. How many margaritas did ya have today?” he jokes.

“Atsumu! You were with me the whole day, I haven’t even had one yet,” you laugh out.

“But I understand what ya’ mean. Yer all good, I just thought you were gonna say you were soul searchin’ cause of a boy that broke ya’ heart back home.”

You look at him and wince. “In a way, that was a factor as well.”

Half expecting a sympathetic reply, you find yourself rolling your eyes and laughing because Atsumu suddenly yells, “Bingo!” and flicks your forehead.

He faces you and holds his hands up, “Hey, we all got a reason to do stuff so I ain’t gonna judge ya’.”

You smile and lean against his shoulder because you know he’s sincere. 

“Atsumu?” you call out.

“Yeah?” he replies as he turns his head looking at you. 

The red of the flames flicker as a glassy reflection against the brown in his eyes and your thoughts become jumbled for a second.

“If I find out you’re here because you got dumped I’m never letting you live it down.”

His eyes crinkle along with his laugh and you find yourself missing the pools of brown, but the echo of his laugh resonates clear in your ears as compensation so you decide you’re satiated.

“I swear I just got bored back home!”

Atsumu spends the next few hours by telling you stories and giving you soft smiles, and you don’t notice the absence of Tetsurou’s message that night.

-

On the afternoon after some weeks more, Atsumu comes to you by knocking at your door at five in the afternoon (which doesn’t even surprise you at this point), demanding you put on swimwear because he was going to teach you how to swim. At first, you stare at him with a blank look—wherein he stares at you right back with equal intensity, so after some time, you sigh and shoo him out, telling him you’ll meet him outside after you get ready.

After tugging on some shorts and a bikini top, you walk outside and glance around looking for the telltale blonde of Atsumu’s head. It doesn’t really surprise you when you hear your name being hollered from some distance, so as you look to the direction of the water—you see Atsumu waving his arms wildly, already waist deep out in sea.

The water was warm, at least, and you carefully wade in the water towards Atsumu. He lets you grab his arms to help you find balance against the waves knocking against you.

“You know you’re going to fail if you try to teach me right?” you say.

“Just needed an excuse to get you in the water,” he chuckles. 

You respond by splashing him with a handful of water. And somewhere in between splashes of water and playful banter, you find yourself wading chest deep into warm water, Atsumu’s arms acting as your anchor against the push and pull of the waves. The two of you stay like that for some time and you allow the woosh of the water and distant sounds of the children on shore fill the silence.

“Golden hour’s almost up, ‘Tsumu, we should go back.” you say after some time. 

He stands behind you and leans down a bit, then surprises you as he wraps his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. Your breath hitches, then his voice sounds low near your ear, “Look at the sky.”

And so you do. The sky in front of you lights itself in bursting shades of oranges, reds, and touches of violets. You turn your face to the side but stop because you see Atsumu staring at you, the expression on his face soft.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” his lips part to say, and you nod because you see licks of the sky’s painting reflected in the glassy brown pools of Atsumu’s eyes.

He blinks and smiles in a softer way that only the corners crinkle up, and you don’t notice how your hand eventually found its way to wrap around his because you’re gravitating towards him—face angling closer until you felt his lips press against your forehead.

“Did you know,” you begin, “when you feel deja vu that means the universe is telling you you’re going down the right path?”

Atsumu looks as you, “Does this feel familiar?”

“In a way,” you respond and smile.

Turning to face him, Atsumu’s hands cradle yours as he presses his lips towards the side of your lips, then back to the side of your head feeling him smiling into the kiss. “You’re somethin’ else, (y/n).”

You look at him wearing a smile mirroring his, “Something good I hope.”

It’s something good, you decide later that night as you settle in bed after dinner with Atsumu. The past few hours flew by in a mirage of good conversation, light hearted jokes and even more eye crinkling smiles from Atsumu.

Settling into the comforter, you grab your laptop just in time as Tetsurou’s face pops up on screen, requesting a video call. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you hit the accept button and wave hello as Tetsuou’s face appears on the screen. He holds a can of beer as a greeting and leans forward. His eyes look glassy.

“(Y/n)..” His voice trails off before slowly continuing, “—how are you?”

You don’t notice his tone from the high you’re still feeling from the day so you beam at him, “I’m good! Atsumu and I are really hitting it off! You’d love him Tetsu!”

He stares at you through the webcam and then he sighs deep. Finally catching a drift of the atmosphere he’s giving off, you watch him crack another beer open and slowly speak, “You okay? Did something happen?”

He sets the can down at the table in front of him and places his face in his hands. You notice the new ink around his forearms. “I miss you, (y/n).”

“I’ll be home next week, Tetsu,” you say

“I—“ he pauses to look up at you with glassy eyes, “I think we should give us a try.”

Your heart clenches. “Tetsurou, you’re drunk. We can talk when I get home.” He shakes his head, and his movement is a little sluggish, so you continue to speak before he could, “I saw the photo your ex posted earlier. You’re still not okay, Tetsu.”

He leans back to his chair with a little force, “And suddenly you are? After being in love with me for eight years, (y/n), you expect me to believe that you’re suddenly okay? Bullshit.”

Your face grimaces, and you feel anger bubble up, the emotion seeping into your words, “I don’t think you’re ever going to go away, Tetsurou. For years I watched you fall in and out of love with someone who was never me. I’m not suddenly okay but I accepted that this—“ you pause to gesture between the two of you, “—isn’t going to happen and I’m moving on. I watched you when you were at your happiest and I deserve that too, Tetsu. I deserve to be at my happiest whether it be by myself or with Atsu-“

“We can try, (y/n),” he cuts you off softly.

“But I don’t deserve someone who isn’t sure about me,” you reply.

And maybe it’s the liquid confidence that riles him up, but he suddenly straightens his back and looks at you with the same glare you stare at him with, “And are you sure about Atsumu? You told me none of us are saints, (y/n), you’re not better off than I am here.”

You open your mouth, but the silence remains; the atmosphere suddenly heavy.

Then Tetsurou slumps before he he speaks, “(Y/n), I—“  

“It’s okay, Kuroo,” you watch as he winces at his surname, “It’s late and I really want to get some sleep. You should too. Take care.”

You catch the last second of him parting his lips at an attempt to reply before you promptly ended the call and shut off your laptop.

His words ring in your ear the entire night, and you think of Atsumu the entire night. You watch the second hand of the clock on your bedside table tick slowly. Your hand comes to rest against your eyes as you try to let sleep pull you in.

You think of Tetsurou who looked at you with glassy eyes that told you all the reasons why his heart was still hurting, then you think of Atsumu—of how the sunset looked better reflected in his eyes than it did painted across the sky.

“I really hope this is something good,” you echo your words from earlier as you let sleep finally succumb into slumber.

-

The night before your flight, Atsumu seats you outside for a bonfire, with the same blankets, snacks, and hoodie fitted around you. The first few hours he jokes about little stories that happened throughout his life and listens patiently when you’d share a snippet of yours.

At this point, you weren’t sure where the two of you stood. You look at him from the corner of your eye as he blows against an extremely burnt marshmallow before sheepishly offering the stick to you.

“When we’re back in Japan I’m lettin’ ya taste ‘Samu’s cookin’ to make up for this I swear.”

You lean your head against his arm and blow on the charred marshmallow, “Have you decided when you’re coming back?”

“Yes, but I’m not tellin ya,” Atsumu chuckles.

“What!” You exclaim, suddenly sitting up, “You already have a ticket?”

“That’s also a secret, doll.”

You sigh and move to lightly punch his shoulder, but instead, he catches your hand midway and envelops it in his own. Atsumu looks at the tattoo on your wrist peeking out, so tentatively, he pushes down the sleeve and looks at it.

“Baby’s breath means eternal love, right?” he asks, voice hushed.

“I’m surprised a big, buff, man like you knows,” you reply.

“Oi, big buff men can be sentimental too,” Atsumu quips.

“(Y/n),” he begins then looks at you in a way that suddenly has your stomach churning, “Should we give us a go at this?”

He asks the same question as Tetsurou did a few nights back and your head is swimming. Tetsurou’s words muddle the thoughts in your head as you turn to face Atsumu who is looking at you with eyes that always held the same softness that remained unchanged from two months ago.

Is this even fair for Atsumu? is the thought that you circle around.

“I don’t want to give you only half of me, ‘Tsumu,” you cradle his cheek in your palm and your heart stirs when he leans in. 

“You’re too good for me,” you confess.

He closes his eyes and you find yourself missing the dancing specks of scarlet flames reflected in his orbs. 

“You’re killin’ me, doll,” he sighs, his face still warm against your palm. Atsumu’s hand trails up and cups your hand that’s still flush against his cheek.

“Is this the part where we say we’re the right people who met at the wrong time?” he jokes quietly. Atsumu looks at you with a smile contrasting against the somber expression in his face, and you feel your heart clench.

Your thoughts momentarily flicker back to the night you talked to Tetsurou in your balcony some months ago and remember the feeling of déjà vu hinting that you were heading in the right direction with your decision.

Staring back at him, you look at your own reflection in darkened pools of brown and don’t feel déjà vu’s familiar push. Atsumu’s other hand trails up your face and his thumb rubs against your cheek. You stay silent when he sighs again and your heart clenches in the way that hurts, and your brain scrambles for a reason why.

Atsumu angles your hand in a way that lets him press a kiss to the tattoo on your wrist. “Hope ya heal in time, (y/n).”

You’re still quiet, thoughts still muddled as your rationality wrestles to string words to convey to Atsumu. “We can stay in contact, ‘Tsumu. I still want you to be in my life,” you slowly say.

“I don’t wanna be hurtin’ you while you’re still tryin’ to find yourself,” he says, and you nod. Déjà vu never comes and your heart still aches.

And your heart remains heavy as the two of you stand up to retreat for the night. Against the door of your room you look at him and press a kiss on his cheek. He smiles at you.

“Well, I guess,” you initiate, “see you around?”

He smiles and crosses the short distance between the two of you, then presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “If the universe wills it, doll.”

The feeling of déjà vu is absent for the rest of the night.

-

After the first few days of your arrival back in Japan, you stay in your apartment cursing the winter. This particular winter was a little harsh for Tokyo and the sudden temperature change you needed to adjust to didn’t help with your traitor immune system. Kenma had waited for you at the arrival area of the airport instead of Tetsurou that day. Then again, you weren’t complaining—you didn’t have any plans to talk to him immediately after coming back home.

You didn’t need to report back to your job until the next week so the first few days, you loitered around your apartment mindlessly passing the time. Some mornings, you’d drag a chair by the balcony and sip your morning coffee. The snow accumulating on the rails and the gloomy morning light was a far cry from the little island you explored with Atsumu back in the Philippines, but your thoughts still ghosted around him from time to time.

The morning you left for the airport, he slept in, but that didn’t stop you from leaving a sticky note in his front door with your contact details neatly printed in the paper. Throughout your day, your eyes constantly flickered to sneak glimpses at your phone’s notification bar, but there was never an unknown number. So you sighed, and instead scrolled through the photos you managed to capture with him. The image of Atsumu stared back at you through the screen, expression beaming with unfiltered happiness and you find yourself smiling along every time.

A knock on your door one morning brings you out of your haze. Before you could look through the peep hole, another knock comes and then a voice, “Ah, (y/n), I think you’re home now,” your hand on the door knob loosens, “It’s Tetsurou. Can we please talk?”

You must have stayed quiet too long because he speaks again, “I got you donuts.” 

And you sigh, because he’s right, the two of you need to talk. But you still tell yourself you’re only opening the door because it’s six in the morning and you can’t be bothered to make breakfast so the donuts are the only reason you’re letting him in.

-

Tetsurou sits on the opposite side of the dining table gripping the handle of his mug with one hand before he clears his throat and looks at you, “I’m sorry.”

“Tetsurou,” you begin, “You’re someone that I don’t think will ever leave my system.” His eyes are a little clearer now that you return his stare. “You’re still the person who grew up with me even if time difference existed you know. You’ve had so many roles in my life and that’s never going to change.”

He looks at you, suddenly looking like a teenager again. His golden eyes stare at you and gleam of something unspoken. “I think somewhere along the years I really did fall in love with you, (y/n). And it just sucks how we never met at the same page. I really do love you, (y/n).”

“Maybe in the next life, Tetsu,” you say suddenly choked up. “We both deserve-“

“A fresh start.” He cuts you off, smiling. “A fresh start.” You affirm.

Before you knew it, Tetsurou rolls his sleeve to his elbows and angles his arm showing you a small outline of the sun peeking out behind some buildings. You look at him just in time for his explanation, “It’s not as sentimental as your baby’s breath tattoo, but sunrises remind me of you.”

You feel your eyes water when you look at the amber of his eyes growing glassier, “You got a tattoo that reminds you of me?”

“You’ve always been a constant in my life, (y/n). I shared so many sunrises with you. And I mean it when I say that I want you to find what makes you happy.” He tells you as you smile and lean forward, tracing the lining of his tattoo. The moment feels a little like déjà vu that doesn’t disappear when Tetsurou speaking again, “I love you enough to realize that kind of happiness won’t be with me, (y/n).”

He looks at you and everything feels so familiar. You choke out a sob that sounded a little like a laugh and Tetsurou does the same.

“You’re never getting rid of me, you lunatic,” you say, and Tetsurou laughs—eyes glassy from the pricks of tears fighting to slide down his cheeks. “We’re okay, right?” He asks you. And you nod, because your heart constricts in a way that doesn’t hurt, the knot in your stomach gone and Tetsurou looking so beautiful from the morning light that filtered in feels so familiar.

“Always, Tetsu.”

And after some moments of comfortable silence, he looks to the window on his left saying, “So, surfer dude slash volleyball player, huh? I think you got a type going on, (y/n).”

You roll your eyes and finally grab a donut from the box. “Yeah.”

Tetsurou chuckles, “Tell me about him. He’s the first guy who makes you look dopey in love.” So you smile and look out the window thinking about the boy who spoke of the little moments and showed you worlds under the sun and feel your heart mellow to a gentle beat, “He’s something good.”

-

Atsumu’s number doesn’t show up on your phone for the next month, but you try to keep yourself from doing your own research, or as Tetsurou pointed out, stalking, for his presence in social media. If he didn’t want to be found, you’d just leave him to it.

Tetsurou sits across from you at the arrival gate in Haneda airport later that month, scrolling through his phone and mumbling curses because Bokuto, his friend, had told him the wrong time for his arrival and won’t be arriving until a few hours later. Instead of driving back home, wasting gas, and sitting through traffic, you suggest to pass the time at a café instead.

“I swear to god, (y/n), remind me to end my friendship with him the second he lands,” Tetsurou huffs from across you.

“You’re being dramatic again,” You roll your eyes, laughing. 

“He’s gonna be here in a bit,” you pause and stand up, grabbing your phone, “I’ll go check the board so stay here.”

“Since you left your wallet here, I’m treating myself to another frapp, thanks (y/n)!” you hear him call from behind you, so you turn to flick him off as you keep walking.

-

Looking at the board above the gate, your eyes scan to look for information regarding Bokuto’s flight. Under said flight, you smile looking at SIARGAO listed within the board. Briefly, your thought wonders off to Atsumu; you hoped he was doing well.

A flow of people begin to trail out of the gate and into the lobby. Assuming that it must be from Bokuto’s flight, you stand on your tip toes from your little corner to look for the telltale monochromatic palette of his hair.

Grabbing your phone, you hastily press call to Tetsurou’s contact name, to which he answers with a drawled out “Heeelllloo?” along with an exaggerated slurp to the Frappuccino he bought with your card.

You open your mouth to tell him to come over, except that you don’t because standing a few meters in front of you is a familiar blonde.

From the phone in your ear, you hear Tetsurou call your name, so through the haze in your thoughts, you mumble a quick “Never mind.” and hang up. You don’t think Atsumu notices you just yet because he’s pulled his luggage to the side, a little closer to you this time, and pulled out his phone to what you could guess was him texting somebody.

You don’t speak for the first few beats of silence because, holy shit this is fanfiction material—is this actually happening? Eventually he pockets his phone and looks around, before his eyes spots you, who at this point, is still openly gawking at him some distance away.

Then three things happen in succession; first, Atsumu’s eyes widen, second, he blinks really fast, and then finally, third, cracks a smile.

And as soon as his smile pushes the crinkle in his eyes, you feel yourself release the breath you’ve unconsciously held in. He pushes his luggage with him as he walks towards you, hand held up in greeting and the smile still plastered wide on his face.

“Yo,” he says and your heart bursts with your reply that came out a little more breathless than you’d expected, “Hi.”

-

Tetsurou stands some distance away from the two of you, holding your wallet and his Frappuccino. He spots the blonde mop of head you’re staring at, really you should chill out (he thinks), and immediately recognizes his features as Miya Atsumu, the same guy who’s been a part of your daily margarita selfie for the two months you were in the Philippines.

The bedhead watches you walk towards Atsumu, and he to you before you both met somewhat in the middle, then looks at you, finding himself smile because of how happy you looked. He stands in his spot and can’t help but feel some sort of déjà vu as he stops himself from approaching the two of you. His heart, he realizes, clenches in a way that sort of hurts but sort of doesn’t, but because this is the first time looking at you with a smile so unabashed, he settles with the thought that because he loves you—you deserve nothing short of the happiness you’re feeling now.

And you can’t help but feel the same as Atsumu laughs out a comment about how the universe must really want the two of you together. His arms circle your figure after exchanging a few pleasantries and inside jokes and you smile into the crook of his neck.

“This feels a little like that déjà vu thing ya talked about before, ya know.” He mumbles. And for the brief moment you see Tetsurou’s text on the screen of your phone reading, “whipped.”, you laugh in a way that has you feeling dizzy and light. You feel like you could cry when Atsumu kisses the side of your head, because this moment feels so familiar.

Atsumu feels so familiar. So when you break the embrace and look at the reflection of your watering eyes in the warm pools of his, more than ever, you were sure that this is exactly where the gods meant for you to be.

-

a/n: *i’m aware there’s no direct flight from haneda/siargao but pls bear w me ;A;

proceed to Epilogue :D

[lightns881]

DTeam Tumblr Demographics Survey Results (Part 2):

What does DTeamblr look like, what does it have to do with MCYT history, and why does it look like a rainbow?

I’ll make an educated guess here and say y'all enjoyed my last post (totally unrelated to the way I gained almost 50 followers overnight). Anyhow, thank you so much for the overwhelming support! I’m so glad a lot of you felt you could relate to my deep-dive into the leading personality type on DTeam Tumblr. It took me so many hours to write and research, and as a math major and honors student, it’s no easy feat, so I’m so grateful for the attention it got!

Today we’re discussing the general demographics of DTeam Tumblr and why they might look the way they do. Number 8 will blow your mind! So make sure to keep reading and hit that little grey heart and arrow at the bottom if you like it, so more people get to see it! Thanks for your support! Now, let’s jump straight into the post!

Your Daily Dose of Data

From the 449 responses we received, these are some pie charts displaying the gender, age, and sexuality of all respondents.

Image Description: Female (52.8%), Non-Binary (37.4%), Male (9.8%)

Image Description: 16-17 (37%), 13-15 (31.4%), 18 and over (29.4%), 12 and under (2.2%)

Image Description: Bisexual/Pansexual (54.1%), Homosexual (16%), Asexual (14.7%), Other (7.8%), Heterosexual (7.3%)

Mmhm, delicious! Y'all ready to dig into these stats? Because I don’t know about you, but they certainly don’t strike me as what the general population looks like!

Welcome to Tumblr, the Only Community Where Straight Men are the Minority

So these statistics certainly didn’t take me by surprise. Mostly because the DNF Shipper Survey I took some time ago revealed a similar trend. Not to mention, Tumblr is probably the QUEEREST internet community on the planet. 

Funny enough, the survey revealed a shocking number of ZERO heterosexual males respondents. I’ll say it louder for the people in the back. ZERO straight males were recorded out of 449 respondents for this survey!

Now, this isn’t surprising for the Tumblr community by itself, but I can say I’m somewhat surprised in terms of the MCYT Tumblr community. (Obviously, the survey specified DTeam Tumblr, but there is a big overlap between both communities, so I will be using them interchengably when it seems relevant.)

Let’s break this down. The survey reveals the largest age population is 16-17, though it’s not by a great margin in comparison to 13-15 and 18 and older, which doesn’t surprise me either. Some of the major critics of the DTeam Fandom and other MCYT Fandoms love to claim the fanbase’s majority age range lies with children and pre-teens. While it’s an undeniable fact children are drawn to Minecraft, it’s also a misconception to paint it as solely a community for younger viewers.

In the MCYT Tumblr and DTeam Tumblr communities, specifically, we see this is not the case. Only 1/3 of the respondents of this survey are under the age of 16 (you could attribute part of it to the fact younger people might be less inclined to participate in this survey, but it is still a notable difference). I can’t say these age ranges are similar in other parts of the community like DTeam Twitter, Tik Tok, or Reddit, but if I had to make a guess, I’d say Tumblr lies toward the older of the bunch, with Reddit being the oldest and Tik Tok being the youngest (I do hope to perform this survey on some of the other communities, so please stay until the end if you want to help with that).

One of the likely explanations to why the ages for DTeam Tumblr look this way is the fact a big chunk of the community has likely been watching MCYT for a long time (even with breaks in between). I, myself, used to watch channels like PopularMMOs, Aphmau, and PrestonPlayz as a kid, and I presume many of you are familiar with them as well. With the resurgence of MCYT in the past year, it likely drew a lot of the older viewers in addition to the new ones.

But enough about age. What I really want to highlight on this post is the attraction of queer individuals to DTeam Tumblr and MCYT as a whole.

Why is the current MCYT Fandom so queer in comparison to the previous generations?

This is a huge open-ended question and considering I can only capture so much of the DTeam and MCYT community, the rest of this post should be taken solely as a theoretical analysis as opposed to fact.

With that out of the way, let’s start by discussing the shift MCYT has undergone over the years (I promise this will circle back to the question of queerness in the MCYT fandom, but we need some background before we can come up with a decent theory).

When Minecraft was first released, it proved to be a monumental change in the gaming industry. This simple little indie game took the world by storm. It was so vastly different from what the general population generally viewed gaming as (first-person shooters, story-driven games, action games, etc.) Not to mention, it didn’t exactly solely appeal to only a small margin of gamers, those being white cis males.

The gaming industry has notoriously been known in the past for its heteronormative community and general prejudice toward minorities. Though it has gone through a significant change over the decades, we certainly can’t say it’s fully gone.

Yet for whatever reason, the recent MCYT has taken the interest of so many queer people in comparison to other gaming YouTube communities. Why? Why are queer people so drawn to this community? And, more precisely, why does it feel so different than the old MCYT? Lastly, how does this relate to the conclusion about the leading personalities of this fandom we made in the last post?

The Niche Communities of MCYT Over the Years

MCYT has always been a huge, over-saturated genre of YouTube with content appealing to a variety of audiences. It’s dominated gaming content for years, and I think we can all safely say it’s never been bigger than it is today.

So why is it that just now it feels like the queerness of the fandom is popping off? Why now as opposed to say five years ago when MCYT was at another one of it’s strongest stages?

It seems like the community has made a tremendous shift in relation to breaking gender norms and LGBTQ+ subjects, not only in the fans but within the creators themselves. Was flirting and calling a pretty-boy streamer pet names as normal in the past as it is today? Were straight gamer guys putting on dresses and a full-face of make-up as supported back then? Were “marriages” and “pregnancies” within Minecraft boys an everyday occurrence like they are now? How is it that MCYT has dominated a Twitch dating show where flirting with the gay host and among straight contestants themselves is just another bit of entertainment? Where is this all coming from?

Recently, I watched a 2 hour documentary depicting all of the stages of Minecraft YouTube and how it has changed over the years. If you haven’t seen it and you have some time to spare, I HIGHLY recommend it! It’s very informative, and it honestly gave me such a strong sense of nostalgia that makes me choke up every time I think about it. I’ll link it below.

The documentary does a great job at exploring the different niche communities that dominated MCYT since it first took off. Some of such communities include the basic Let’s Players, the team-based Let’s Play channels like How2Minecraft, the roleplay story-centric ones like Aphmau and Samgladiator, the tutorial, building and technical side like Mumbo and Grian, the PVP-centric Bedwars or Hypixel channels, the Machinima community, the comedy side like ExplosiveTNT, the parody music videos, and so many more. All of the mentioned communities have dominated Minecraft at one point or another, many of them still having a rippling effect and/or a loyal community today. All of these communities have certain aspects that define them, some of which parallel the current overtaking content in the present.

How can we compare MyStreet to the Dream SMP?

Taking Aphmau as an example, her MyStreet series had a TREMENDOUS success a few years ago, racking in millions of views and bringing in a lot of money that eventually allowed her to hire voice actors and increase the production of mentioned episodes. The roleplay series was so successful it ran for six seasons!

Now, let’s compare that to the Dream SMP. It seems like a big comparison to be making considering they appear so different at first glance. For once, Aphmau is just one channel whose audience caters toward girls and younger people who enjoy romance. The series is set-up in an episodic-format that resembles more of a TV series than actual Minecraft videos.

Meanwhile, the Dream SMP is a collection of content creators with a mix of improvised storylines and the occasional regular video that resembles more of a Let’s Play series than a RP series.

You could say the only true comparisons to draw out of these two are the popularity they had/have and the profit they brought to their respective creators. 

However, there’s two other key similarities that you’ll find not only within these two specific examples, but many other channels and communities as well. Story and characters.

MyStreet’s story aspect is fairly obvious seeing as it’s a episodic series that focuses on a fictional story. The Dream SMP’s story aspect isn’t as clear, but it’s evident there is a story playing out in the foreground and background, whether intentional or unintentional, or improvised or not.

Character is where some of you might start to question me. It’s obvious MyStreet has characters. I mean, it is a fictional story, after all. But the Dream SMP? Light, they’re obviously people!

Well, my answer to that is yes and no--sort of. The Dream SMP’s story heavily relies on roleplay, bits as you might call them. Events that aren’t necessarily planned out as a fictional plot like the typical MyStreet episode is, but they aren’t exactly real. Schlatt is obviously not a villain in real life, he just likes to impersonate as one for the narrative. Wilbur isn’t crazy, but it’s a way to spice up the heroic story surrounding Tommy and him.

It’s video-game improv. Except the actors behind the content just so happen to be real people playing off the personalities and “brands” they have obtained. 

Brands. It all boils down to this. In the entertainment business, without a clear vision of your project and a clear way to brand what your consumer intakes, your project will likely not find a lot of success.

There’s a reason why Tommy plays off his loudness, using an overexaggerated laugh that although may not be completely fake, it is likely not the laugh he uses everyday. Or why BadBoyHalo is this supposed innocent muffin who doesn’t understand the crafting table meme and other references that are fairly easy to google and find the meaning of. Or why Sapnap is this chaotic being who loves starting pet wars and we love to paint as an arsonist in the Dream SMP. While all of these personality traits may be a part of their true selves, they’re played up for the camera--for the story. They act as the personas that define their characters in the narrative.

They have a clear brand and vision that appeals to the audience and makes them tune in on the daily to see how they all come together. It’s like roleplaying a more extreme version of yourself, one that brings home the money.

Story and characters run across every entertainment outlet. They define their brand. Aphmau has her characters and series. Hermitcraft has a set of memorable personalities and episodic videos that formulate its own story that is less like a narrative and more of a history of the server. ExplodingTNT has his recurring cast and comedic sketches. Most of these niche communities have a form of story and character defining them. It’s how they achieve a clear sense of branding and cater to a specific audience.

Queer Theory in MCYT

Having said all that, why does the MCYT of today draw in so many queer viewers?

Let’s think about this. In my last post, I ended by mentioning DTeam Tumblr is a sort of safe haven for INFP and INxx types who might be placed in the “other” category by society. INFPs, specially, are predisposed for escapism--one common form of it being fiction and entertainment. Not to mention, INFPs are feeling types who, as introverts, seek a personable connection. It’s why it’s so easy for them to obsess over book characters or fall in love with content creators.

Now, let’s imagine a whole community of LGBTQ+ INFP and INxx types. Actually, scratch that, we don’t even have to imagine it.

It’s what our community looks like today.

And why are so many so drawn to the DTeam and Dream SMP of all things? It’s a personable storyline that essentially forms a direct tie to the viewer. Unlike pre-recorded fictional TV series you tune into on your device, the Dream SMP is a whole load of chaos that blurs the lines between reality and fiction where fans can directly connect to creators and get to know them as people through a storyline that features sub-textual queer themes and non-conforming behaviors.

The MCYT content creator community of today is more non-conforming than ever before, and knowing this whole fact, knowing that many of them might place themselves in the “other” category or at the very least aren’t afraid to break the norms and be seen in that light, is a comfort in itself for LGBTQ+ INFP types. Once again, it’s a safe space that helps you escape from the troubles of real life, one you relate to.

Okay. So although this does answer why the fans look like they do, what about the creators themselves? Are we really supposed to believe this all came through naturally? That a bunch of straight guys suddenly decided wearing dresses was something they wanted to do?

I don’t mean to sound cynical here, and I’m in no way trying to insinuate creators have solely some sort of corrupt ulterior motive. Things are never as simple as they look. However, the truth is, a part of it lies on the attention it’s gotten.

I’ve talked a lot about DreamNotFound and the way Dream uses it as a marketing ploy. I stand by my point. However, he’s not the only one who does this in the MCYT community. Why did Finn suddenly go from wearing a dress to cross-dressing as a girl for a whole week? Why are so many creators suddenly deciding wearing dresses is fun? Why does every freaking straight MCYT actively want to flirt with George nowadays?

Let’s just let Techno’s favorite word answer this for us: clout.

It gets attention from one of the largest historically underserved minority community in the entertainment business. We might not be able to see gay flirting in every Netflix TV show or guys not minding dresses and getting fake marriages, but you are certainly going to get at least one of those in every Dream SMP stream and video you tune into. It gets attention. It brings home the money. And do I blame them? Not really.

Interestingly enough, there’s a lot of analytical posts on the MCYT Tumblr community that discuss the dangers of these tactics and why gay jokes and the way queer subtext is treated by MCYT creators is harmful. Despite this, it still attracts such a huge community of queers. So why exactly would queer people actively watch something that’s offensive or harmful to us?

I have a lot more to say about this topic and the morality behind Dream’s tactics, but I’m out of breath for today, so I’ll talk about it in my next post. What better way to start the conversation about the DNF and Karlnap questions of the survey than a good ol’ discussion on the morality of queerbaiting and the likes?

If you got this far, I’d appreciate it if you liked and reblogged this post if you enjoyed it and/or learned something new! Also, important news, I would really like to perform a similar study on the DTeam Twitter Community to measure the differences in demographics across platforms. I would REALLY appreciate it if you guys could go like, retweet and share the link I posted on my Twitter about it (tweet will be linked in the reblog below) so it reaches more of the DTeam Twitter community!

However, if you filled out the survey yourself here or you associate more with DTeam Tumblr than DTeam Twitter please DO NOT fill out the survey again! I’m trying to make sure it reaches the audience that mains on Twitter, but I need a little help with that since I don’t have as big of an influence on Twitter than on here for obvious reasons.

Anyhow, thank you so much for all your support! I really appreciate y’all and make sure to hit the follow if you want to lookout for the next demographics post! <3

(Pssst, I’m releasing a MCYT DNF superpower AU longfic next month... You should totally go check out the post on that if you’re interested in it...)

[mostlymovieswithmax]

Movies I watched in June

Now I think I’m comfortably in a rhythm to get these posts out. For one, I’m writing up short reviews either straight after watching a movie or sometimes it might take a few days. But June was a fairly good month in terms of the amount of films I watched. I got to go to the cinema quite a bit which is always fun. Anyway, let’s get on with it! If you’re looking for something good to watch (or maybe even something bad), I hope this list can help in some way to introduce you to new and different movies that maybe you’ve never heard of, or were thinking of checking out. Here is every film I watched from the 1st to the 30th of June 2021.

Bo Burnham: Inside (2021) - 10/10 Everyone was going off about how great this film is. An hour and a half of Bo Burnham in lockdown, singing songs and being upset is definitely a powerful hook and I have to agree with the general consensus because Inside blew me away. More thoughts on this in my podcast: The Sunday Movie Marathon episode 34.

Bo Burnham: Make Happy (2016) - 7/10 After watching Inside, I figured I’d rewatch some of Burnham’s older stand-up shows on Netflix. Make Happy is a lot of fun, injected with a lot of introspection from Burnham that really makes the special stand out, despite a lot of gags that just didn’t land for me.

Bo Burnham: What. (2013) - 6/10 It’s plain to see just how much Bo Burnham has grown over the years and how he has honed his comedy and music. ‘What.’ is a good stepping stone in the comedian’s career, showcasing loads of promise in him from a young age. There are some jokes that haven’t aged as well and some that straight up dragged, but overall the show is still enjoyable.

The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It (2021) - 3/10 Packed theatre for this one, obviously. People love a Conjuring movie, and I’d also say people love a good scare… but this movie isn’t scary, or good for that matter. More thoughts on episode 35 of the podcast.

The Conjuring (2013) - 6/10 After the horrendously disappointing debacle that was the third Conjuring movie, I decided to watch James Wan’s original movie and man, if this wasn’t better in literally every way. I don’t tend to love James Wan movies but I can’t deny he’s got so much talent in how he makes movies and it makes The Conjuring a lot more fun to see competent filmmaking in the horror genre in a way that actually creates an eerie atmosphere with creative uses of camera-work and editing.

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) - 8/10 Normally I’m not big into the old slasher movies. I appreciate that for the time, perhaps they hit differently, but now I just don’t tend to connect with them. Wes Craven’s ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’ is a bit of an exception. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not particularly scary, though it does employ a lot of interesting techniques and designs. Undeniably, the design for Fred Krueger is a staple in cinema, with the striped jumper, hat, scarred face and knives for fingers not leaving the mind of the general public any time soon. Elm Street doesn’t have too many kills but when it does, it is so effective and fun to watch. Craven was one of the greats, truly.

One Cut of the Dead (2017) - 8/10 This has to be one of the most engaging zombie movies I’ve seen in a long time. There’s a lot to spoil with One Cut of The Dead but I won’t go into that here. It is clever and funny, subverting expectations in ways I really didn’t expect. I really cannot recommend it enough.

Dave Chappelle: Sticks & Stones (2019) - 8/10 Since we’re watching Chappelle's Show for episode 45 of the podcast, I wanted to get an idea for what I was in for, so I watched Dave Chappelle’s stand-up show from a couple of years ago. Yeah, really funny, which I suppose is what you want from a stand-up special, but what makes it better is Chappelle’s commentary on the world at large and how he’s able to combine humour with intelligent criticism.

Fear(s) of the Dark (2008) - 4/10 A few years ago I think I watched this animated black and white anthology film on a New Year's Day when I had foolishly decided to pull an all-nighter and then go out with mates for ice cream. Never again. But I’d forgotten what I thought of this movie and decided to get the DVD for cheap on eBay. Perhaps I am doomed to watch Fear(s) of the Dark only when I am tired because I popped this on when it was nearing midnight. I was lucid enough to understand what I was watching though… and it was quite boring. These short films emulate the filmmakers’ nightmares - an interesting premise in theory, but pretty weak on execution.

The Bourne Identity (2002) - 3/10 We marathoned the first three Bourne movies for The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, episode 36 so check that out for my expanded thoughts on this, the best Bourne of the three.

The Bourne Supremacy (2004) - 2/10 Immediately after, we did the deep dive into Supremacy, the second Bourne and the worst of the three (albeit by a very slim margin). Check out episode 36 for more.

The Bourne Ultimatum (2007) - 2/10 I really couldn’t care less about these terrible movies. It was a horrible chore to sit through them. Ultimatum was also rubbish. More gripes and discussion in episode 36 of the podcast.

The Father (2021) - 10/10 Another trip to the cinema for this masterpiece. I tried very hard not to sob loudly in the theatre where aside from myself, the audience totalled three people. More discussion of The Father in episode 36 the podcast.

Drag Me To Hell (2009) - 2/10 I’m pretty shocked that Sam Raimi directed this. Usually when I watch one of his films, I can see his staple of fun gore, practical effects, crazy camera movements… but there was none of that here. It just felt like a really bad horror, indistinguishable from the regular affair, with no personality or passion. Drag Me To Hell might even have been one of those movies I’d avoided in the past when I was younger because it seemed too scary but no, it was just boring and bad and I feel like there’s something I’m not getting out of this that other people seem to be.

Moonrise Kingdom (2012) - 8/10 At this point, I feel I have to admit Wes Anderson as perhaps my second favourite director. His movies are just so nice and beautiful to watch. Moonrise Kingdom is a quirky love story between two kids and honestly, with any other director, could have been handled poorly because the story is quite simple. But Anderson injects so much of his signature style and personality into the film. A powerhouse of actors with the likes of Frances McDormand, Bill Murray, Bruce Willis and Tilda Swinton, among a few of Anderson’s regulars, make Moonrise Kingdom a breeze. Good for a dark day to lift the spirits.

Nobody (2021) - 8/10 I needed something to fill an otherwise uneventful day, so I hopped on a bus and booked a ticket for Ilya Naishuller’s new action movie, Nobody. The film started and to my annoyance, the lights in the theatre were still on. When I go to the cinema I don’t really want to see the other people sitting around me, so I got up from my seat, abandoning the first two minutes of the film to find a member of staff to turn the lights off. After showing them that the lights were in fact still on, I took to my seat and watched the movie for what felt like a little while before the lights went off. Nobody is a really fun action movie. Perhaps similar in a lot of ways to John Wick, but with more personality to the main character. More thoughts on episode 37 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

The Darjeeling Limited (2007) - 8/10 After procuring the Criterion blu-ray from my local hmv, I delved into all the supplements it had to offer, including a making-of documentary, chats with the director, and a gallery of polaroid pictures from when they were shooting the film in India. The Darjeeling Limited is perhaps not peak Wes Anderson, but I do kind of love it. It makes me want to go on a journey to another country with my brother and sister, perhaps in ten to fifteen years. Here, the main characters are three brothers who travel to India seeking some kind of spiritual experience. Things don’t seem to work out that way, however, because I’m not sure how spiritual an experience you can have when you plan out an itinerary to schedule it. Fantastic performances all round and of course, beautiful direction and cinematography.

Face/Off (1997) - 3/10 Was I supposed to laugh? Maybe I was just too tired but I really couldn’t stand Face/Off. It didn’t feel particularly special and despite a couple of fun ideas, it was mostly quite boring.

Luca (2021) - 5/10 The new Pixar movie leaves a lot to be desired. The animation is really second to none and I can’t fault how beautiful the movie looks, more so when it’s set in this little Italian town than under the sea. The story is so uninspired though, with the basic premise being that the protagonists want a Vespa so they enter a competition to win the money to buy one. Also they’re fish that turn into people on dry land. Maybe that’s enough for some people, but I couldn’t shake the familiarity of Luca. It never went in any interesting directions and basically did exactly what I figured it would do. I don’t believe it’s out here to subvert expectations but I would like some creativity when it comes to the writing. Perhaps if I watched it again, I might like it less. It was pretty dull.

Punch-Drunk Love (2002) - 10/10 I’m a little disappointed with the Criterion blu-ray for Punch-Drunk love. It’s supplements host a couple of low-quality deleted scenes that were clearly deleted for a reason, and some weird artsy music videos that incorporated footage from the movie. I was quite shocked at how low-effort it all seemed. The movie itself is fantastic though and I do believe it to be Adam Sandler’s best performance (and I really liked Uncut Gems). He portrays a man who is constantly put down by his family, clearly has some kind of social disability, and on top of it all he’s getting scammed by a sex line. Amongst all this, he’s trying to navigate a new relationship and it’s so sweet to watch all the interactions between Sandler and Emily Watson. It’s a perfect melding of romance, comedy and anxiety, beautifully directed by Paul Thomas Anderson.

Fargo (1996) - 9/10 Another movie you wouldn’t expect to be so funny, especially since it’s based on this horrific true story about murder, deceit and money. But the Coen brothers know how to handle it. Excellent performances, beautiful colour palette, and a story that just gets more and more insane as it goes.

House (1977) - 7/10 House (or, Hausu) was a recommendation for episode 37 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast so check that out for more discussion. Generally speaking, this Japanese horror/comedy was bonkers. Insanely creative and abstract (which at points can detriment the film) with an almost Balamory-esque presentation. I was happy to find that the comedy was not lost on me at all; this is a hilarious film, albeit maybe not all the time.

The Princess Bride (1987) - 10/10 I reviewed this in my May wrap-up but this time around, I had recommended The Princess Bride for the podcast, the discussion for which you can listen to in episode 37. It all clicked this time around. It is such a fun, warm movie with a lot of laughs and superb production.

This Is Spinal Tap (1984) - 8/10 Another Rob Reiner joint, a few years before The Princess Bride. This Is Spinal Tap is lauded as a masterpiece in comedic cinema and I might agree; this movie is hilarious. Shot in mockumentary fashion, it follows a band playing shows and trying to get gigs, coupled with the inevitable screw-ups of live performance and creative disagreements. It lost me every now and again but it’s still a must-watch.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996) - 6/10 A decent Disney flick but certainly not their best. One highlight includes the villain singing a lament about wanting to have sex with Esmerelda and calling her a witch for giving him a boner.

Ponyo (2008) - 4/10 Not sure if I’ve ever disliked a Miyazaki movie before but I did not vibe with Ponyo. It came across as very baby and as such, there really wasn’t much to read into. The animation is fantastic as always but so much of it felt specifically tailored to a younger crowd.

Roman Holiday (1953) - 9/10 Classic romance at its best. I had heard on a podcast that this was the sexiest movie the guest had ever seen and while maybe not in the traditional sense of the word, I do get where they’re coming from. I was tearing up with just how lovely it all was, following a princess who runs away and spends the day with a man she meets in Rome (where it was shot on location), doing all the things she’s wanted to do but never could because of royal responsibilities. Fantastic performances from Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck who sell the chemistry of the characters so well.

F9 (2021) - 2/10 I’ve never seen any of the Fast & Furious movies and after watching the ninth in the series, I don’t want to. This is basically the Vin Diesel show; we watch him drive cars fast and punch people a lot. Wow! I don’t really understand what it (and forgive the pun) driving people to see these movies if they’re all in this same vein. As far as I can tell, F9 is the goofiest of the series so far and I’ll admit I had a chuckle or two at some of the truly implausible moments, such as a part where one of the team gets shot by about ten men with machine guns, yet manages to kill them all without being affected by the bullets… but overall, in this two-and-a-half-hour experience, I was largely bored.

Shaolin Soccer (2001) - 7/10 I love this movie! Shaolin Soccer is so much fun; it is goofy and out there and completely crazy, all by design. Steven Chow knew what he was making when he set out to craft this insane story of a group of guys using Kung-Fu to play football. The basic story itself is nothing new but it’s elevated by the infectious comedy and implausibility of what’s happening. Balls are kicked into space and across fields so fast the very ground is torn asunder. A man eats an egg off a dirty shoe. This is cinema.

Casino Royale (2006) - 7/10 I had seen a trailer at the cinema for the new Bond movie and I have to say, I’ve never really given 007 the time of day, aside from a few of the very first movies I’d tried watching a while ago. But the new trailer kind of got me hyped, so I wanted to watch all of the Craig era Bond movies, starting with Casino Royale. I had a great time! Even though there’s not loads of fighting or weapons or fast cars, the meat of the movie actually comes from this poker game Bond is playing against the villain, played brilliantly by Mads Mikkelsen. I was surprised to witness a bit of cock-and-ball torture in this 12-rated movie but I would be lying if I said it didn’t stick with me.

Quantum of Solace (2008) - 5/10 Immediately after Casino Royale, I jumped into the second of Daniel Craig’s Bond movies, Quantum of Solace. Sadly it’s quite weak, with not much going on aside from the general Bond fare. Mathieu Amalric’s villain lacked a lot of menace or motivation and generally, I’m not super worried about a brilliant story in a Bond movie, but even the action felt weak in this. Quantum of Solace didn’t exactly upset me but it failed to wow me in any way either. The saving grace of the movie is certainly Daniel Craig as the hero, capturing Bond and what he’s supposed to be.

Skyfall (2012) - 6/10 A marked improvement from its predecessor, Sam Mendes helms Skyfall, Craig’s third outing as Bond. Skyfall delves into Bond’s past as he seems to be slipping a bit, not as much the expert operative he once was. It would have been nice to see more of his fall from grace, as they don’t really show us how he’s become less efficient as much as they give other characters expository dialogue telling us how he drinks and does drugs and is haunted by childhood trauma. For me, that’s where the meat of the story lies and I would have preferred more of a character piece if indeed they were delving into that side of the character anyway. That being said, the fights are still better choreographed than the last instalment and the colour grading and scenery is often very visually interesting. Everything in Skyfall is better than its predecessor and it’s surely thanks to Sam Mendes who does a great job at directing.

Howl's Moving Castle (2004) - 8/10 Another go round for Howl's Moving Castle, as this was a recommendation for my podcast, The Sunday Movie Marathon. My opinion, I feel, is unchanged. It's a fantastic film, and you can listen to more of what I have to say in episode 37. The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 2 - 3/10 A pretty poor end to a poor series of movies. I'm surprised I've watched the Twilight movies as many times as I have but I also know I'll watch them again. Part 2 I watched with the YMS commentary track on YouTube which, again made the experience a lot better. But otherwise the series seemed to get better as it went along… until the last movie. Ultimately my biggest problem with it is that nothing actually happens and the plot feels like a late addition rather than a natural progression of the story. It’s basically a whole movie of set-up to a payoff that doesn’t even canonically happen. A big thing with YA adaptations in this era was making a final book into two movies, regardless as to whether it needed that much time or not. Breaking Dawn does not need to be two movies at two hours each. About ten new characters are introduced here and the film is afraid of killing even one of them off. It's the last movie! We're not going to see these characters again! Kill some of them! There's just no emotional weight to any of it and I hate to say I was disappointed with the ending because I have such low expectations for these films but man, this was so unsatisfying.

Frances Ha (2012) - 8/10 Life is hard. And I hate this movie because it shows me so much of what terrifies me about being alive. And I love this movie because it shows me so much of what I’m alive for. Noah Baumbach’s brutally honest depiction of growing up and fending for yourself struck me in a way I wasn’t expecting and I think it’s because I’m at a point in my life where I’m worrying a lot about how it’s all going to turn out. The titular character is burdened with the stress of working low-paid jobs and paying rent while juggling school and making time for her passion of dancing as she tries to connect with people she’s lost, as temporary friends and housemates come and go. She feels like a lonely character despite often being around a lot of people. Frances Ha is fantastic and heartbreaking and uplifting… but it made me feel bad so I hate it.

[bigjohn2021]

So I wanted to try something different this year. I don’t know how long this will last, or really why I even thought to do this, but I need different. I am just going to type and say what’s on my mind and see where it takes me.   

Last night I laid in bed for nearly 3 hours. My similar routine every New Years Eve. A million things were racing through my head, things regarding work, my living situation, what this new year could look like, my health...and for some reason I thought writing about my daily life would be something I wanted to try and do. It’s always a wierd time for me, the holidays. This year was no different, another year, another party with no significant other, another new years eve without the new year kiss, when litterally everyone around me has these things. I’ve grown numb to it I guess. I am a school teacher so I have had the last 2 weeks off, the break is nice, but the silence isn’t. I always tell people I need to stay busy so the negative thoughts have no room to appear. They really never know what to say...and I get it what do you say? Anyhow this blog may serve as a way for me to begin to understand how I think, and vent to the endless void that is the internet. No one may ever see this, and that is probably for the better, but its going to exist and I am going to try my best to post at least something every day. 

Waking up later then I thought I was going to this morning, was like almost 10. The dog every morning the last 2 weeks, whine whine whine, to go out.  Which is fine, he's a good boy, but I really didn't want to get up yet. I got right to work this morning...have work on Monday. Sent a bunch of emails out, and began searching for music for my students. Lunch came up quick and had leftovers from the party the night before...took the plate back to the basement and watched a bit of Youtube. I have been watching this guy play through the dlc for a video card game called Inscryption. Not usually one for those types of games but the mechanics of the game are quite interesting and I can actually understand it...not that I have ever tried to watch people play magic or hearthstone. After the food was gone I went back to doing a little bit of research.

I have been modifying my computer setup for years. Last year I took the deep dive and started purchasing Hue lights and have been obsessed with them since then. They are quite exspensive but they work 100 percent of the time and I've never had any disconnection issues. Today I added a hue lightstrip to my rolling desk setup and added some play bars to the back of my monitors. My desk is currenlty on wheels and it can be raised and lowered to become a standing desk. I am very happy with the desk and very glad to have purchased it. This whole process took a couple hours because I am like obssesed with trying to make my setup as mobile as possible. I have 2 monitors, a desktop computer, a kinect camera for video calls, and all those lights hooked up to one power adapter, and then all I have to do to move the setup is unplug one plug. I am so proud of this accomplishment and really have worked hard to make something like this possible. I really enjoy working on my stuff like that..."iv'e been modifying my setup for years".... Always happy with it in the moment...maybe it's modifyied because I enjoy doing it so much. It turned out really nice...I will get a good picture of it for tomorrows post

I am not really sure where the rest of the day went after that, I do tend to just lose track of the hours sometimes. I did finalize the music that I am going to use with my kids at band festival....which is a big relief...now I just have to order it...and I hate that process.

I really don't know if I am going to make these "new years resolutions" but I did accomplish the 2 things I wanted to do today. I walked the dog...in the beginning of a snow storm...and I made this post. I walk the dog because he needs it...but I also walk the dog because I need it.

I have one day left of silence and then I am thrown back in the deep end and have to figure out how to do my job again. Waking up early sucks...and I have never gotten used to it. One of the goals here for the begining of the year is try to have a sleep study done so maybe I can improve my sleeping at night and wake up better in the morning. I am probably...no I will now lay here for a couple hours and watch tik tok...can't just fall asleep. It won't be this much every night, it can't be, I'll never make it all year. But it does feel nice to yell and the nothingness. Anyhow...here's to day 1...let's see if I make it to day 2.

[redhawtriot]

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Sooo... I think It’s the size of my tag list that was fucking this chapter up so much! Every time I have more than my previous chapter had, this chapter deletes itself from my page/drafts! I’ve contacted Tumblr about it, but don’t cross ur finger’s on that one lol. I am sorry if you weren't able to make the list!

(If you beta read for me you could read the chapters up to an entire day ahead of every else tho! If ur interested in that, just inbox me!)

HnM

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

Month 1, Month 2 , Month 3,

--Month 4--

‘SLAM!’

The front door crashed shut like ammunition through cannon fire. The sharp bang clapped and echoed throughout the small, otherwise quiet living space, and soon, three roommates filed out of their respective rooms. One by one, they inched out to get a glimpse of the oncoming storm: Hurricane Katsuki.

Denki warily removed his gaming headpiece as Bakugou whipped past his bedroom door, “Oh hey, Bakugou! You sure disappeared outta nowhere. We coulda used the backup in squads! Where’d ya go, man!?” 

The others listened carefully for the explosive blond’s answer, but got nothing short of an insult in return,

“None of your business, you damn idiots. GO DIE ALREADY!” and with that, Hurricane Katsuki simply slammed the door shut-- somehow even louder than before.

Kaminari, who had gotten the brunt of the explosion, was left wide eyed,

“Woah…”

Sero gave a low whistle as he shook his head at Bakugou’s shut door, “Looks like a wild Teenage Bakugou has entered the chat.”

Denki gave an abrupt, slightly uncomfortable chuckle at the remark, but soon gulped, giving his roommates a concerned gaze, “So… should we…” he trailed off.

Kirishima fervently nodded, stepping fully out into the hallway, “I’ll go check on him, guys.” He flexed before making his way to Bakugou’s room—a nervous habit he had picked up somewhere along the line to reassure himself before he dived headfirst into rough situations.

He looked back to his other two roommates one last time and threw a pleading glance as if to say “Wish me all of the luck” before giving a few slight knocks to the rage-secreting room, “Bakugou,” he called out, “You okay, buddy? I know that there is something up. There’s no point in hiding it…we can talk?”

No answer.

Kirishima gave a long sigh, “Well, when you finally want to talk about it, you know where to find me...” 

The other roommates sighed as well before both retreating to their rooms and shutting their doors. Kiri turned to make his way back to his room as well, but only made it a few feet before Bakugou’s door sharply yanked open a few inches.

“Where are those other idiots?” Bakugou’s eyes were redder than their usual vermilion as he glared out from the cracked doorway. Kirishima gave a thick blink in surprise. Had he… had he been crying?

“They back in their rooms?” Bakugou said very lowly. His voice had an extra hint of raspiness weighing it down, Kirishima noticed.

“Y-Yeah.” Eijirou quickly replied, startled by the unseemly sight of his best friend, “They’re prolly back on the game by now.” Bakugou did not say another word as he threw his door open a few more inches and marched deeper into his room to stiffly throw himself on the edge of his bed. Kirishima cautiously followed him-- this was as good of an invitation as any in ‘Bakugou language.’

Bakugou sat, glaring seriously at the floor in front of him, as if it offended him, and his leg bounced nervously. The red head uncomfortably cleared his throat. ‘Holy shit, what the hell is going on…?’  Kirishima had never seen him do that before, “You.. uh.. you wanna talk about it, buddy?”

No answer.

Kirishima waited a few beats before releasing another sigh and shutting the door behind him so that he could make his way to the bed. He sat down next to his best friend and simply sat deep in the silence with him. The two waited for what seemed like hours before someone finally spoke up,

“I got a girl pregnant,” Bakugou said very flatly, still glaring at the floor and bouncing his leg.

Kirshima had to stifle the choke that erupted out of his throat as his own saliva sneaked into his larynx, “Ack! Achkaka!” His natural bodily functions were completely forgotten as his brain tried to compute the sudden and drastic information that was just thrown at him.

Bakugou?? Pregnant? He never thought he would hear the words in the same room, let alone the same sentence! The guy hardly ever did anything but work, work out and come home to play video games. He didn’t converse with people. He didn’t get girls pregnant. Girls didn’t even look at him!

In his coughing fit, Kirishima’s speech was also forgone, “I-I- uh.. man that.. wow I…” he tripped and tumbled over his words. He was dreaming. He had to be. Well, either that or he had wandered into some strange episode of the Twilight Zone or something.

Bakugou’s glare at the floor intensified, “I thought she might not be so bad… but I didn’t want to be with her like this,” Kirishima’s eyes widened at the underlying tone of hurt buried under his friend's words, and then they widened even further once he realized what he just said.

Had Bakugou fallen for someone for the first time?? And then his eyes widened the furthest as things finally began to click within his confused mind.

He sucked into a sharp gasp, “You mean that model!?”

Bakugou simply scoffed, finally relieving his glare form the ground and focusing his hot gaze on Kirishima, “Yeah, turns out she’s actually a fucking bitch.”

Kirishima’s jaw dropped, “BAKUGOU! That’s the mother of your child! You shouldn’t—”

“She didn’t remember the night at all. I was just another fuck toy for her,”  Bakugou stood up and clenched his fists over and over again as if they itched to be slammed against something—tears welling up in his red-hot eyes, “Now tell me if the roles were reversed, how shitty it’d be then, huh?” Kirishima immediately shut his mouth from speaking up anymore as he allowed his friend to release his feelings. It wasn’t often that Bakugou built up enough to let things out this way.

Bakugou scoffed again as he began pacing the room, but Kirishima swore that it had the hint of a cry layered within it somewhere, “they might not even be mine since she likes that ‘fuck toy shit’ so much. That night meant nothing to her…” he threw his arm against the wall, effectively tearing a hole into it

Kirishima jumped a bit from the action as his mind briefly wandered to the security deposit on their lease. He pushed these thoughts away as Bakugou stiffly returned to the bed, his leg bouncing even more fervently than before.

Kirishima simply watched for a moment to allow his friend to simmer down before he spoke up very softly, “But you think it is yours though…”

Bakugou’s eyes snapped up to Kirishima’s, whose eyebrows were furrowed deeply into each other as he stared back.

In all his years of knowing Katsuki Bakugou, Kirishima would have never described his best friend with anything even resembling ‘gullible.’ His gut feeling and instinct were as sharp as ever and hardly ever wrong,

“Must be for a reason then…” he tried to look past the tears that filled up within his best friends eyes but they still left his heart feeling a little heavier than usual,  “If you think it’s yours then I’ll have your back no matter what buddy. You’re not alone in this.”

“They.”

“What…” Kirishima eyebrows folded toward the center of his expression.

“She’s having fucking twins.”

“Holy Sh…” Kirishima quickly swallowed his words as he took in the forlorn expression plastered onto his friend’s face. There was no room for him to be shocked right now. He had to be Bakuous ‘rock’ so to speak, “I-I mean congratulations!”

Meanwhile you found yourself studying the woman in the reflection of your mirror. Your eyes trailed every detail of her swollen, red eyes. Then to her hair that was fuller than you had remembered—the beauty of bottled color maybe? You danced over the way that loose strands stuck to the slimy mess of tears and mucosa that had accumulated on your cheeks.

Nasty.

A sharp chuckle came out of you, spittle following not too shortly after, but as it reached your ears it resembled more of a cry.

Okay, that’s enough self loathing for one lifetime.

And with that, you moved away from the mirror; however, as you did so, your sight basically smacked the open cabinet of liquor bottles that you were eyeing earlier.

Okay…. Maybe not quite enough self loathing. Your mouth began watering at the delectable sight. It was a desert after a delicious four course meal.  There was always room for more…

With a shake of your head, you brought your hand up to smack these thoughts out of your mind. What was wrong with you? You had been a lot of things in life, but were you really so low to bring yourself to effectively murdering your own children?

That’s what would happen if you drank, right?

You loudly groaned as more tears slipped from your eyes. You really didn’t know shit when it came to this pregnancy thing.

Your mind briefly wondered to Baby Notes Vol 1. You should probably take the time to actually read through it a little. Skimming it wouldn’t kill you.

Physically.

The sudden pounding at your door snapped you almost immediately out of your thoughts.

“Y/N?? Y/N, it’s me!”

With a final pathetic sigh you found yourself gathering up all the alcohol from the cabinets that you could into your arms and placing them in the bathtub before jotting over to the door.

As soon as you opened it Deku barged in and gripped you softly,  “I came as soon as you called! What’s up, what's wrong?! Are you okay??” His eyes frantically danced around your wet eyes and red sockets before he allowed them to roam all over you, checking for injury.

He wouldn’t ever think that Kacchan was the type of guy to put his hands on you, especially with how much he’s grown since high school, but the nagging voice in the back of Izuku’s mind fervently reminded him of all of the bruises and burns and numberless emotional scars he accumulated with he was quirkless from his childhood friend.

And here was a woman he deeply cared about-- quirkless—having to spend time alone with said childhood friend.

“What’s wrong??” Izuku found himself repeating as his hands mindlessly wiped the fluid from your cheeks. As soon as he committed the action, however, his face ran completely red and he quickly released you from his grip, so that he could get a grip of himself.

You didn’t notice his slip up, and if you did you sure as hell didn’t care at the moment. There were more pressing matters at hand. Two to be exact, “Twins,” you simply said to him as tears began flowing down your cheeks more furiously.

“Huh? Oh… Oh.” Izuku’s eyes went wide as your words sunk in. As soon as he threw you an obviously apologetic glance you threw yourself into his chest and sobbed throwing him a bit off guard as he barely caught you in his arms.

Izuku’s eyes nervously roamed around your home as if he were searching for the right thing to say to you, but as he made contact with an open pantry in your kitchen, his jaw dropped-- your alcohol pantry.

It was far less full than it had been the last time that he visited, “Y/N… What’s with the… have you been drinking?” he pulled you away from his chest and looked seriously into your eyes.

The sight honestly kind of scared you a little—like a 15-year-old being caught with their first beer-- that is, until you remembered that you were innocent as fuck, “No,” you gave a slight chuckle through your tears at the sudden surge of intimidation, “I need your help getting rid of it.”

You walked away from Izuku for a moment, leaving him confused and a bit wary of where this was going, until you returned with a hammer—leaving him even more concerned,

You were aiming for bad ass Harley Quinn vibes, but you were sure that with a dried trail of tears on your cheeks and the force smile splitting your face you came across like more of a psycho ass Harley Quinn. Furthermore, the look on Deku’s face screamed that you were correct (also it screamed ‘GET THIS GIRL IN A STRAIGHT JACKET!’).

“What are you gonna do with THAT?” Izuku squealed.

“I need to get my favorite bottles out of the house. Stat. and you're gonna help me.” At your words, Deku gave a gigantic sigh of relief, but still kept his eyes glued on the hammer in your hands. You noticed and shrugged a bit, “Smashing things is also really cathartic. I am sure you of all people can agree with that.”

“Heh… Yeah. But are you sure this is okay? I mean, I don't want to raise your blood pressure or anything because--”

“Deku. Less talk, more smash,” you threw a towel in your tub to make clean up a little easier, and so you didn't knock a chunk of tile on your bathtub. You gave Deku one last glance. He was still looking very uncertain, but you threw him a short smile before bringing the hammer down onto a bottle of tequila. The bottle instantly shattered, sending bits of glass throughout your tub. You looked up to give Deku an excited glance, and surprisingly, he returned one right back.

“See? Not so bad!” 

But you spoke too soon as the scent kicked you in the fucking nose. It was too far to turn back now. You choked down your nausea and handed Deku the Hammer, “You go ahead and get started. I’ll go get another weapon-- I mean… tool,” you corrected yourself after he sent you a terrified stare.

As you made your way back to the after grabbing your second weapon-- I mean tool a sudden thought crossed your mind. Without hesitation, you pulled your phone out and dialed in,

“Hello?”

“Yes. How may I help you today?” Dr. Yamakawa sounded from the other line.

“It’s Y/N…Y/N L/N…” you trailed off, hoping that you wouldn't have to say the ‘p word’ or anything relating to it.

His old ass better take the hint. To your dismay, his old ass did not take the hint, and a long pause of awkward silence filled the air.

You pursed your lips together in annoyance, “Mama Bakugou,” you clarified through gritted teeth, still dancing around the fact that you were a maternity patient of his.

“Ohhhhh!” He exclaimed, causing your face to fall into an expression of disappointment as he continued, “What can I do for you, Mama Bakugou?!”

This mf. You internally ground and fought the urge to facepalm, “Well. I need you to write a doctors note for me.”

“For…?”

“Work?”

“For your pregnancy? Dear, why don’t you just take maternity leave for that?”

“No.” In the moment you shook your head even knowing that he couldn't see you,  “I need a few weeks more before I can tell my job about this… situation. I’m a model. They own me through a contract and I didn't exactly add two roommates to the lease on my body...”

There was a pause on the other line, causing your heart to lurch a bit, but things soon went back to normal when he finally spoke up, “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll email you something.”

You gave one final thanks (and an internal ‘yessss’) before making your way back to the bathroom, “Hey Deku, sorry it took me so long I was just--” you froze at the sight in front of you. The shirt that Izuku wore was completely drenched in liquid and your tub had a gigantic hole on the side.

Your lips fumbled over themselves as you gawked at the spectacle. Deku could only send you a nervous laugh,

“Uh, hahaaa… Can we be done now? This… this burns,” he rapidly blinked the liquid from his eyes as he glances back down to the lot of broken bottles in your tub before throwing your one more pleading glance.

You choked down a laugh, causing it to flee from you in the form of a snort, “Someone had some pent up aggression, huh?”

In response, his face delved into a deep shade of red, “I.. uh..” he had no idea how to answer you when you looked at him like that-- your lips curved into a stunning smirk of a smile. Izuku promptly cleared his throat, “C-can I take a shower?”

“Obviously not that one-- you're totally fixing that by the way Mr. Big Shot Hero,” with a laugh you swiftly made your way to him and carefully grabbed the hammer from his grasp, looking up to see his face dive even deeper into crismon. You flashed a smile at the display. He really was adorable as hell.

You took in his face bit by bit-- his soft, blushed skin, his freckles cheeks, his round eyes. As you digested his expression you swore you could see an entire forest within his stare. Suddenly your heart pinged.

“Uh, Y/N,” Izuku interrupted your thoughts, causing your heart to throb for a different reason as you suddenly realized the proximity of the two of you. You stepped back so fast that your head spun. At least, you hoped that was why your head was spinning,

“You can use my shower.” you said very abruptly as you turned away from him,gesturing him to follow you to your bedroom.

Your bedroom. Your hear throbbed once more. Deep down, you hoped that you were about to have a heart attack or something; however, something  within you told you that that probably was not the case. You swallowed hard.

What the fuck was happening?

‘KNOCK kNOCK KNOCK’

The next morning you found yourself stirring awake to a loud succession of banging. Your eyes fluttered open for a moment only before they snapped back shut. The magnet drawing them together and you closer to sleep was much stronger than whatever noise was trying to wake you up, “Mhmfmfm…” you muttered as you rolled over on the couch and pulled the blanket over your head.

Izuku, however, was not one to ignore such an obvious noise and he found himself trudging off of the other sofa he slept on to answer whoever was banging on the door.

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!’

“Coming!” the green haired man tiredly called out as he launched himself toward the front door and swung it open.

The astounded face on the other side of the entrance soon mirrored his own.

“Kacchan!” Izuku exclaimed.

Bakugou’s shocked expression very quickly contorted into one of pure rage, “What the hell is going on here?!” He screamed causing you to jolt awake as you threw the blanket over your head. You found yourself fumbling up as Bakugou continued to scream pointed to Deku, “The fuck is he here for??”

You made your way over to the two men- one seemingly terrified, and the other obviously enraged. As your head began lifting from the daze of sleep, you crossed your arms and glared at Bakugou, “He spent the night helping me with something,” you shook your head, trying to free yourself from the oncoming headache, “Hey, better question: why are you here?”

Bakugou seemed to swallow his own tongue as his jaw clenched shut, “I wanted to… uh…” he glared at the ground as he tried to find his next words. Shit. why was this so fucking hard? He should have never listened to that Shitty Hair and come over here. Bakugou scoffed to himself before redirecting his stern gaze back toward you, “Come with me.”

You could only blink.

What kind of caveman talk…You tilted your head as you fleetingly threw a confused glance toward Deku, who only shrugged in response.

Bakugou quickly grew tired of yours and Dekus silent conversation, “You wanna hang out or not??” he growled before throwing another heated finger toward Deku,  “And he can’t come.”

“I was just heading out anyways. It’s no big deal really!” Izuku defensively threw his hands up as if to show Bakugou that he was no threat at all. He went to gather a few of his belongings from the sofa he slept on before throwing Bakugou one more gaze-- this one a lot more astute.

A majority of Midoriya’s mind told him that there was nothing to worry about at all, but there was still a small section of him that couldn't shake the memories of how Bakugou treated him as a quirkless child. Izuku knew that he would never hurt you! But… just in case…

“You take care of her Kacchan,” the tone came off pleadingly but the look in his eyes was a  bit stern. You had never seen this portion of Deku before and it almost instantly caused your chest to thud, harshly reminding you of last night’s sensations. Shit.

“Don't tell me what the fuck to do, Deku. Those are my kids in there. Not yours. You just remember that,” Bakugou scoffed, causing Izuku’s expression to falter ever so slightly before he fixed it again.

Your jaw dropped at the sheer bluntness of his statement, “Kacchan, what the f--”

“I guess you’re right, Kacchan,” Izuku began, “Sorry if  I crossed a boundary,” he smiled at Bakugou-- who only huffed in return-- and quickly turned to you, making the tightness in your chest worse, “Bye, Y/N!” Izuku smiled, almost too innocently, considering the raging war in your gut at the moment.

You smiled back-- a feeble attempt at masking the inner turmoil ravaging your insides. “Peace, bb,” you gave him a weak hug before gesturing him out of your home. You threw him one final smile before shutting the door. You instantly whipped your head back around the the blonde brat behind you, “What. The. Fuck!?”

“I already told you. I want to hang out.”

“Are you fucking allergic to texting or some shit??” you yelled, “You just waltz in like you own the damn place and demand me to ‘Ohhh ahhh wo-man! come with me, wo-man’,” you renacthed his prehistoric behavior. 

Bakugou felt his muscles tighten in response to your taunting. Your loud nature, mixed with the confrontational behavior was reminding him way too much of his own mother. He swore on his life that he would never end up with  a woman like her and yet, here he was standing in front of her fucking carbon copy. The thought made him sick as he groaned in frustration,

“Shitty hair was fucking wrong!” Bakugou spat, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion as he continued, “The last thing I want to do is hang out with a bitching hag like you!!”

Your jaw dropped, “Excuse me??” You have heard pretty much every other insult in the book hurdled at you, but ‘hag’ was never one of them. You laughed, “I wasn’t a hag when you fucked me all night, huh?!”

“Yeah? I don't know what was wrong with me then. You are way different when I am not pumped full of alcohol, apparently.”

Your laughter immediately ceased, “Whatever. you came up to me and confessed your love like a raging SIMP, and now all of a sudden I’m a bitch?

“Fuck! Well, I got to know you past a pretty, stupid, fucking face!”

You blinked in shock. The unfamiliar feeling of your heart sinking into the pit of your stomach overwhelmed you as hurt surrounded your face. Practically your entire life, being beautiful has been a mask of sorts for your overwhelming failures. Still, here this man was-- practically a stranger-- seeing past your facade, looking directly into the steaming pile of shit that you truly were. Your eyes suddenly became warm as tears filled them,

“Then why the fuck are you even here, asshole?? TO PISS ME OFF?” you shouted, throwing your hands by your side and clenching them so tightly that your nails dug into your skin.

“BECAUSE  I WANTED TO KNOW ALL OF YOU!” he screamed back. The shocking words fled out from under his harsh tone and stunned you as your brain processed them. You felt your fist unfurl a bit as he continued, “I wanted to know you. Good and bad. Bitchy and not. You're carrying my children… I want to know them,” he finished, almost defeated. This tell of emotion was obviously the last thing he wanted to be doing, you could tell.

Still, it meant a  lot for some reason that he felt that he could do this with you “Oh,” you breath out, unable to articulate much else.

“Oh?!” he angrily repeated. Bakugou felt his face shrivel in disgust. He just poured out his being to you once more for you to trample on it like a fucking gymnast mat. However, as Bakugou formed his mouth to say something else, you halted him,

“Go… have a seat,” you gestured to the couch, blinking the accumulating liquid in your eyes away. The blond could only shoot a lone eyebrow up in response, causing you to sigh in exasperation,  “Well, Are you just gonna stand there looking like that, or what?” he gave you one final scoff before making his way to one of your couches and seating himself comfortably, propping one of his feet on your coffee table as he glared at the non functioning television.

“Welcome, I guess. I am sure you’ll have no issue making yourself comfortable,” you deadpanned, eyeing his propped up legs,  “I’ll go make us some… tea?” you suggested , but no answer came from him, “Tea it is.”

You rolled your eyes before trudging away. You always loved green tea, but for some reason the smell had been killing you lately, so you opted for peppermint tea instead. It was inferior by, far, but it matched the inferior, pathetic life that you had adopted recently.

Jeez. How much self deprecation can you fit into one week? Would this have any effect on the babies? If so, they’d probably come out singing RnB or some shit in the maternity ward. They’d have already stressed dyed hair and an entire Tumblr dedicated to sad aesthetics before they reached their first birthday, for god's sake.  

You vehemently shook your head to once again get rid of the oncoming headache that snuck in with these disgusting thoughts, “So Kacchan!” you called out as you walked back to the living room, “What do you wanna know?”

“Don’t call me that,” he simply barked.

“What?”

“Don’t call me that name. I fucking hate it.”

You snorted and took a seat next to his glaring figure. You tried not to notice how he shifted further away from you as you sat down, “I am sure Deku disliked being called worthless his whole life too,” you smirked up at him, “I bet he fucking hated it.”

The atmosphere seemed to once more shift into a much heavier tone after your statement and the room fell quiet for a few beats. Bakugou’s small glare morphed into a much more forced one. It was as if he was trying to use the glare to hide another feeling, you noticed.

Finally, he spoke, “How much do you know.”

You tilted your head into another shrug, “Enough to know that you probably hate the fact that I am quirkless.”

His face contorted into one of pure disgust as the glareful mask he wore faded away like yesterday’s lunch.  “I don’t give a fuck,” he argued, but the look you sent him showed no sign of believing it. Bakugou’s disgust deepened, but he made sure to control it enough to where you didn't know that it was directed towards himself.

“Oh really? Let’s see if you can keep that same energy when one of your kids pops out without that flashy quirk of yours,” Of course his face fell, just as you suspected it would. Just like it had for multiple other men you had told.

Most men’s pride utterly shrivels into dust as soon as the pretty girl in front of them-- the one that they fantasize about having a dream life with-- ends up telling them that they are quirkless. As soon as the words fall out of your mouth, the men's dreamy gaze effectively shatters alongside their hopes and dreams concerning you.

Nobody wants to pass weakness onto their children.

“You know what? I think I’ll go first,” you snapped him out of the uncomfortable, uncharacteristic silence, and he gave you an irritated, questioning glance, “You wanted to play 20 questions with me, or whatever. No limitations, okay? And I have the first question for you,” you explained before sending him a challenging gaze, “How could someone so full of hate truly aspire to be a hero?”

You expected him to blow up at you-- to scream, and yell and argue that you were wrong.

Yet.

The slightly apologetic, yet stern look on his face threw you for an absolute loop, “I wanted to win.” he simply answered. Somehow his matter of a factness was worse for you than any furious defensive scenario you had conjured in your mind, but as you went to open your mouth with a roll of your eyes, he halted you,

“That was when I was younger, “ he sharply clarified, “I wanted to win more than anything. To be better than everyone else—and that hasn’t changed but there's more to it now. I have to protect the people I care about—like my idiot roommates—I want to make sure we all come home safe by the end of the night.”

Once again he had thrown you off with a surprisingly normal non-caveman response, “That was actually…”

“My turn,” Bakugou abruptly cut you off, “How many men the you fuck this past few months?”

Your jaw dropped. 

And back to Neanderthal you mother fucking guess! “Are you fucking kiddin—”

“You said no limitations,” he gruffly stated.

You bit your tongue and shot him a glare that could match his own before giving a sharp sigh, “Four during the last year. You were the last and the only one during the month I… conceived,” you swallowed as the word left a bitter taste in your mouth, “My turn. What about you?”

“What.”

“How many women the past year?”

“Why the hell does it matter?” Bakugou argued. Your eyes shot down to his body as it shifted around even further from you. From his body language you could tell that his answer was sure to be outrageously high.

He was an extremely attractive guy after all. Those rippling arms were nothing to fuck around with. His red hot eyes could melt steel beams with a passing glance. The chisel of his permanently hardened expression could slice through even the most secured of panties. 

Yes. and there was no denying that he was a sex god in his own right.

It also didn't help that his temperament sucked, so you doubted he had had many long term relationships. He had all of the ingredients of a man whore stirring within him.

“I’m just curious,” you shrugged.

Bakugou threw his glare away from you for a moment as he contemplated on whether or not to answer your stupid question. He had his own questions to ask you still so he guessed that he didn't really have a choice if he wanted his answers,“...One.”

Your jaw dropped, “Seriously?” as his face fell into a furious shade of red you were smacked with a sudden realization,

“Kacchan, did you... lose your virginity to m...?” He glared even further away from you, but you could still see his ears falling even deeper into red-- effectively giving you your answer, “Oh my…” he trailed off. No wonder he was so fucking head over heels for you! Through your discomfort a horribly timed joke flew past your lips, 

“You knocked her up on the first try huh? You’ve got some super swimmers,” you half laughed, but Bakugou obviously didn't find anything funny about it as he snarled angrily as you,

“Shut up!” he barked, throwing a pillow at you, “My turn. What’s up with you and that shitty Deku?”

The pillow hit you, but it was really his question that had smacked you in the face. Your chest thudded, and you prayed to whoever was listening that he couldn't see the racing of your heart, “He’s just a friend! A really good friend to me. Probably my first actual friend ever,” you said this as a joke, but obviously forgot who you were talking to.

“You didn’t make any in high school?” Bakugou’s face twisted up disbelievingly.

“Never went. Couldn’t afford the tuition...” now it was you who was uncomfortably shifting from him. 

“Your parents didn’t help you out?”

“Slow down there, buckaroo,” you laughed, but his face remained as stern as ever as you continued, “That’s like three questions In a row for you. My turn.”

Luckily he caught the hint and didn't press upon the subject any further.

Through the night, you found out a lot of things about him. He was actually younger than you by a few years at twenty years old. His parents were both fashion designers (probably the biggest fucking shock to you considering his choice of black shirts and flannels) and that he was working on making his own hero agency since he had already climbed up the ranks in Japan.

Your game, however, was cut short by the growling of your stomach.

Bakugou almost immediately stood up, surprising you as he walked to your kitchen. Well, you did say ‘make yourself at home’ but this was a little upfront wasn't it? He soon yelled to you from the kitchen as you sat in shock still, “What do you have to eat in this shit hole?!”

Shit hole? You glance around at the decorations and clean atmosphere that you pride yourself on. That jerk. Your house was not a shit hole! “You can eat shit if you want. I’m not hungry.”

“The hell are you talking about? I just heard your stomach growling.”

You shrugged, “Just indigestion. I get a lot of stomach issues with these things inside of me,” the sudden clanging of pots and pan in your kitchen startled you,  “What the hell are you doing??” you called out before marching to your kitchen.

You found him rummaging through your cabinets, stopping momentarily to judgmentally eye your still plentiful liquor cabinet for a moment before moving on, “You can starve yourself all you fucking want, but you're not fucking starving my kids.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his accusation, “I’m not starving.”

“You think I’m fucking blind?”

“I have to stay in shape for work. Just like you I am sure,” you walked up to him and grabbed a bicep for demonstration, but he quickly threw your hand away from him as his face fell into a bout of shock. He quickly regained himself,

“Whatever,” he grunted before swinging open your refrigerator.

“What are y—Hey!” you yelped as he began haphazardly throwing food onto one of your counters.

“Is all you have in here rabbit food? Jesus fucking Christ,” he ignored your cries and began throwing certain items together and heating up a pot of water.

You couldn't help but blink at the display. He seemed pretty natural in the kitchen and that in itself was unnatural considering his caveman persona, “You... cook?” you felt uneasy.

“You don’t?”

Honestly, your diet consisted of salads and ramen since you were 15, so cooking wasn't a necessity. You reluctantly shook your head at him.

He looked completely disappointed and disgusted with you but, hey, what else is new? Bakugou scoffed, “Well you’re gonna have to learn how now. Pay attention.”

You rolled your eyes at him. If you wanted fucking Gordon Ramsey bitching you around in the kitchen you would have clicked on that stupid ad that always popped up on your Youtube. Then again, Bakugou was more of a Guy Fieri with that spiky hair of his.

Whatever.

You guessed learning how to cook one meal wouldn't be too terrible,  

“What are you stirring the water for if you didn’t put anything in it yet?”

“It helps it heat up faster, idiot.”

“Do you actually throw the noodles on the wall to see if they’re finished?”

Bakugou threw you a frown, “If you’re a fucking dumbass,” he said, moving you aside as he began stirring a saucer filled with vegetables. He completely disregarded your yelp as he moved you as a parade of thoughts bombarded his mind.

He would have to come over more and keep you and his kids fed if you truly didn’t know how to cook. He scoffed and his stirring hand more slightly more erratically with frustration. What kind of grown woman didn't know how to cook pasta?

His thoughts were halted by a loud squelch that sounded through the air. He immediately threw his gaze up to the wall in front of his face and his expression fell at the sight. He growled, snapping his gaze back toward you by the pot of pasta, “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” his furious glare danced between you and the wet noodle that stuck to the wall.

“I wanted to see if it would actually stick! Don’t get your balls in a twist, it was one noodle!”

“So damn wasteful,” Bakugou ground his teeth as he frustratedly scrapped the starchy pasta off of your wall. He opened his mouth to tell you just this, but immediately snapped it back shut as he felt something being thrown at his head, “that better not be what I think it is…” he snarled through his teeth as he eyed food dangling from one of the spines of his hair.

“Don’t worry, Kacchan. It’s not a worm,” you laughed, but your giddiness was soon cut off as a hot noodle was thrown back in your direction. You could only blink as it stuck itself on your nose.

“Hmph,” the corners of Bakugou’s lips slowly curled into a smirk, “It’s a good look on you, noodle face,” You laughed but once again was cut off. The brief sound of his laugh coinciding with your own shocked you.

His smile slowly died down as he caught wind of you gawking at him. He cleared his throat, “Are you done being a child? I’m ready to enjoy my good ass cooking.”

However, you didn't answer him as you once again found a smile creeping onto your face. He rolled his eyes and began making himself a plate of food, but he quickly grew tired of you smiling at him like some bimbo,

“What?!” He snapped, “You want another noodle to the face.”

You shook your head as you shuffled past him to serve yourself a plate, “No.. just you have a nice laugh.”

He scoffed, “That all you're eating?” he completely disregarded your comment but you decided to let it die too,

“I don’t see you with any food on your plate,” you shrugged, “I’d be more worried about yourself if I were you,” you winked at him before setting down at the table.

The night went pretty well after that. So well, in fact, that the two of you decided to have “parental meetings” every few days so that Bakugou could teach you how to cook. You ended up learning how to make 10 more dishes within the next three weeks.

Bakugou and you didn't exactly become close, but there were far less screaming matches than there had been in your first few meetings. You still didn't know him very well, but he wasn't necessarily a stranger anymore.

It was… nice.

The next check up came very quickly because of your lack of employment and your dates-- err um… “parental meetings” with Bakugou.

“Your twins should be about the size of avocados now! We’ll check again with a routine ultrasound. We do have the DNA tests in for you all so I’ll just go and run for those real quick.. well walk briskly. You don’t do an awful lot of running at my age.”

“I don’t do an awful lot of running now,” you joked, and Bakugou sent you a stern glare that screamed, ‘don’t encourage him.’ you shrugged as the doctor walked out of the room.

It was silent for what seemed like forever. You and Bakugou still weren't very good at sparking conversations, but eventually he spoke up as you laid back on the exam table, “You're really fucking showing now.”

You brows instantly came together, high fiving each other in your state of being roasted, “Thanks...” you deadpanned.

The look on your face sent a wave of hurt through the blond’s heart.

What the hell. It was like he felt your hurt. For the first time in a long time, Bakugou actually regretted his choice of words. He glared at the ground as he attempted to change the subject, “You’ve been eating, right?”

“How else Would I be sitting here, looking fat and talking to you, Kacchan.”

“I told you don’t call me that,” he paused, as if he were really considering his next statement, “Call me Katsuki,” he finally dragged out.

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Kacchan.”

Just as Bakugou open his mouth the no doubt scream at you, Dr. Yamakawa entered the room, 

“Mama Bakugou! We have some really good news. Everything seems fine with the twins according to the DNA testing. One is a little small right now, but it’s completely normal for there to be a dominant twin so to speak. No genetic abnormalities or health concerns,” you saw Bakgou visibly stiffen at this before relaxing as the doctor continued, “’Cept for you.”

You shook your head, blinking heavily as if you’d just been punched in the brow, “Me?”

“You do have a concerning BMI—you tend to lean a little towards underweight. I understand you are in the profession of modeling correct,” he said very, curtly, “You need to add more calories to your daily intake. You wont need to ‘eat for three” as they say, but you do need to put on some substantial pounds or you will risk a premature birth..”

You had no fucking idea what to say to that. ‘Nice?’ ‘Cool beans.’ ‘fucking just give me the mother of the year award already!’ You felt your chest tighten and suddenly you realized you hadn't been breathing. You sucked in abruptly, causing the doctor to take a step towards you,

“You're looking a little flushed there, Mama Bakugou.”

“Well how else is she supposed to respond when you tell her like that, old man?!” Bakugou snapped, causing both you and the doctor to gawk at him. 

“Kacchan! What the fuck don’t talk to him like that, jerk!”

Bakugou scoffed, throwing his glare, much more pouty this time-- to the jar of cotton balls on the counter of the office.

“It wouldn't help either of you to sugar coat this, son,” the doctor sighed, “You have made it this far along in her pregnancy. Miscarriage is substantially less likely but if you want to give these babies a better chance, I’d suggest higher caloric intake.”

Needless to say, Bakugou did not leave the doctor's office that day a very pleasant man. He would angrily stalk ahead of you a for a few moments before pausing and grumbling about how ‘fucking slow’ you were as you caught up before the cycle would start all over again. You could only take this for so long, however,

“What!?” you yelled suddenly as the grumbling phase of his cycle began once more, “Will you stop fucking brooding already and speak your mind—”

He instantly snapped his face towards your own to stare into your eyes. You fumbled back a bit as the intense vermilion bore into you. You opened your mouth to speak but his serious expression exclaimed something before yours could,

“I wanna move in with you.”

You paused. You couldn't have fucking heard that right.

He… wants to...

“What…?” you mouthed.

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[theredherb]

The Red Herb’s Top 10 Games of 2020

Hey, fuck 2020. You might notice that many of the “Best Of” lists you read this year and last can’t help but mention how terrible 2020 was. That’s because every day was like hitting a new, splinter riddled branch on our 365 day plummet off a shit-coated tree. The year brought with it a viral pandemic that served as a pressure cooker for the societal and systemic issues boiling beneath the surface of our every day life. And we’re not out of it. 

At least one positive holds true of 2020: the games were pretty darn good. One has to wonder, though, if 2020 was the last year of what can be called “normalcy” for the video game industry. Now that the remainder of titles brewed in pre-Covid times are out in the wild, what will the future of gaming look like as studios shift to work-from-home and distribution models migrate to digital as the primary bread winner? What will games look like going forward?

I have no fucking clue. We’ll get there when we get there. But looking back, I’m glad to have had such solid distractions from the stress and strife. If 2020 is any indicator for the industry going forward, then my takeaway is that games will continue to grow in prominence because of their ability to help us cope and, more importantly, stay connected.

Anyway, here’s video games:

10. MARVEL’S AVENGERS

Oh, Marvel’s Avengers. I know you expected to be on more prestigious Top 10 lists than mine. Truthfully, I debated whether or not you should be here. But I had to search my soul (stone) on this one. Really assemble my feelings. Tony Stark my thoughts (?). Here’s the short of it: Marvel’s Avengers has a great story campaign with a surprising amount of emotional weight thanks largely to Kamala Khan’s quest to reassemble the heroes of her youth. Once the final cutscene ends, though, players were expected to take their play box of Marvel heroes, jump online, and duke it out against hordes of villains for the privilege of precious loot and level gains. It would be impossible to get bored because Crystal Dynamics was going to continually Bifrost in new quests, cosmetics, and heroes -- for free!

Except, after fans blasted through the campaign (took me a solid weekend), they found a multiplayer mode filled with repetitive fights against non-descript A.I.M Bots, a handful of dull, un-Marvelous environments (the PNW?! In a video game?! Wowwee!), and a grind for gear that became useless minutes after it was equipped. Oh, and bugs. Tons of bugs. It must be hard for A.I.M. to take earth’s mightiest heroes seriously when they’re falling through the fucking earth every other mission.

So why the Kevin Accolade™? Of all the mistakes and underbaked ideas, Crystal Dynamics got the most important thing right: they made me feel like I was a part of the Avengers. Cutting through the sky as Iron Man; dive bombing, fists-first as the Hulk; firing gadgets at cronies as Black Widow; cracking a row of skulls with Cap’s shield… Avengers is a brawler on super soldier serum.

The combat is crunchy and addictive, and surprisingly deep once you unlock your character’s full suite of skills and buffs. The gear matters little. But choosing a loadout that works for you -- like ensuring enemy takedowns grant you a health orb every time or turning area clearing attacks to focused beams of hurt -- does matter. When it comes to games with disastrous launches, Avengers is the most deserving of a triumphant comeback story because, if you clear the wreckage, I think there’s a solid game here. If I was able to spend hours playing it in its roughshod state, I can see myself digging in for the long-term once it’s polished up and given a healthy dose of content. You know...if Square Enix doesn’t outright abandon it.

9. STREETS OF RAGE 4

Here’s a fact about me: I love beat ‘em ups. From Final Fight to X-Men to The Simpsons, I prioritized my quarters for the beat ‘em up machines (and House of the Dead simply because House of the Dead fuckin’ owns). Unfortunately, Streets of Rage wasn’t in arcades, and I didn’t own a Genesis growing up, so I didn’t get around to the series until Sega re-released as part of a collection. Though my history with the 29 year old brawler is shorter than some, the basics stand out out right away: it’s an awesome side-scrolling brawler filled with zany character designs and high octane boss fights.

SoR4 nails that simple spirit while adding an electric soundtrack, buttery smooth animations, and an art style that looks like a comic book in motion. You can button-mash your way through the game or master your timing to combo stun the shit out of bad guys. Same screen co-op is a requisite for the beat ‘em up genre but I have to call it out nonetheless given that it's next to obsolete these days. The story campaign is, of course, finite but a stream of unlockables and a Boss Rush Mode pad out the package nicely.

I really don’t have to go on and on. I’m on board with any game that captures the arcadey high of classic beat ‘em ups, and Streets of Rage 4 does it with flare.

8. RESIDENT EVIL 3 REMAKE

Resident Evil 2’s remake was my game of the year in 2019. It’s a pitch perfect revision that captures the pulse-pounding fear of the original while beautifully updating its graphics and gameplay for modern audiences. The most striking aspect of RE2’s remake is how it expands and reconfigures the classic game’s environments and set pieces. Capcom managed to recontextualize, and even improve on, the original’s design while staying faithful to its tone and atmosphere.

Resident Evil 3’s remake is less successful in modifying and improving on its source material. If the game feels like it was handled by a different team than RE2R, your gamer hands have good eyes (roll with it). It was developed by a separate internal team (three different teams, in fact), but that’s actually one of many choices mirroring its 1999 forebear. Just like the original, RE3R is a tighter (i.e. shorter) experience that launched less than a year after its predecessor. And just like the original, the game skirts away from survival horror in favor of action horror.

Unlike last year’s remake, however, RE3R paints in broad strokes with the original material much in the same way that 2004’s Dawn of the Dead remake shared a vague resemblance with Romero’s ‘79 classic. Capcom at least nails down what matters: you play as Jill Valentine, beaten and discredited after the Arklay Mountains incident, during her last escape from the zombie besieged Raccoon City. Her exit is complicated by Nemesis, a humanoid missile that relentlessly pursues her from minute two of the game. Her only chance of making it out alive is by teaming up with a gaggle of Umbrella dispatched mercenaries, including an overly handsome fellow named Carlos Oliveras that you control for a spell. But fans struggled to get over what Capcom didn’t remake. Several enemies, boss fights, and a “divergent path” mechanic that had you choose how best to escape the Nemesis in a pinch were omitted from the remake. Even an entire section set in a clock tower was cut. But, let’s be honest, the biggest omission is a secret ending where Barry Burton saves the day using only his beard. For real, YouTube that shit.

If you look at what the remake does instead of what it doesn’t, you’ll find a lightning paced action game highlighted by tense, one-on-one fights against the constantly mutating Nemesis. The tyrant’s grotesque transformations evoke the mind-rending, gut turning creature designs found in John Carpenter's The Thing. It’s sad that Nemesis doesn’t pursue you through the levels as diligently as he did in the original, or as Mr. X had in last year’s remake, but these “arena fights” end up being harrowing and fun, culminating in a memorable final encounter. The remake also treats us to the best incarnation of Jill to date. She’s a cynical badass, exasperated at how Umbrella upended her life, and can take a plunge off of a building yet still muster enough energy to call Nemesis a bitch. RE3R also shines thanks to its snappy combat, including a contextual dodge that feels rewarding to pull off, less bullet-sponge enemies than RE2, and an assortment of weapons to get you through Jill’s Very Bad Night(s). It makes for a necessary, though shorter, companion to last year’s stellar remake.

7. HADES

I’m experiencing a new type of shame including a title that I haven’t beaten on my Top 10 list, but I can assure you that I’ve dumped hours into its addictive death loop. It’s probably because of my resistance to looking up any tips, but given the skill-check nature of the difficult boss fights, I’m almost afraid the top shelf advice will amount to “die less, idiot.”

My failings aside, Hades is brilliant. It’s the perfect merger of gameplay and storytelling. You play as Zagreus, son of Hades, and your entire goal is to escape your father’s underworld domain. You pick from a selection of weapons, like a huge broadsword or spear, and attempt your “run,” seeing how far you can make it before an undead denizen cuts you down. It’s familiar roguelike territory, but where Supergiant separates their game from the pack is in the unique feeling of constant progression, even as you fail. With each run, not only is Zagreus earning a currency (gems or keys) that unlock new skills that make the next go a little easier, you’re also consistently treated to new lore. The fallen gods and heroes that line your father’s hall greet you after each death and provide a new insight into their world. The writing is bouncy and hilarious, the voice acting ethereal and alluring, and the character designs could make a lake thirsty.

Supergiant’s stylistic leanings are at their peak here. They’ve managed the impossible feat of making failure feel like advancement. Sure, it totally fucks up other roguelikes for me, but that’s okay. None of those games have Meg.

6. DEMON’S SOULS

Whereas Capcom takes liberties with their remakes, Bluepoint took the Gus Van Sant approach and made a 1:1 recreation of the 2009 title that launched the “Soulslike” genre. The dividing difference is a 2020 facelift brought to us by way of the PlayStation 5’s next-gen horsepower. There’s been online arguments (surprise) regarding the loss of Fromsoftware’s visual aesthetic in translating the PS3 original in order to achieve a newfound photorealism. It’s true, some beasties lose their surreal weirdness -- a consequence of revisiting designs without the worry of graphical or time constraints -- but the game’s world is still engrossing, morbid, and bleakly gorgeous.

That’s not to say all Bluepoint did was overhaul the graphics and shove this remake out the door. No, their improvements are nuanced, under-the-hood changes that gently push the genre into the next-generation. For one, the loading times are incredible. You could hop between all five archstones in under a minute if you wanted. And this game is a best DualSense controller showcase outside of Astro’s Playroom. You can feel a demonstrable difference between hitting your sword against a wall compared to connecting it with an attacking creature. Likewise, the controller rumbles menacingly as to let you know enemies are stomping across a catwalk above you. “Better rumbles” was not on my wish list of next-gen features, but the tactile feedback goes great lengths to make you feel like you’re there.

Granted, sticking so closely to the original means its pratfalls are also carried over to the next-gen. The trek between bonfire checkpoints is an eternity compared to the game’s successors, and Fromsoftware hadn’t quite mastered the sword ballet of boss fights prevalent in Dark Souls. Instead, a handful of bosses feel more like set pieces where you’re searching for the “trick” to end it versus having to learn attack patterns and counters. Still, it’s easy to see the design blueprint that bore a whole new genre. From having to memorize enemy placements to hunting down the world’s arcane secrets in the hopes of finding a new item that pushes the odds in your favor. Bluepoint’s quality of life improvements only make it kinder (not easier) to plunge into the game, obsess over its idiosyncrasies, and begin to master every inch of it. That is until you roll into New Game+ and the game shoves a Moonlight Greatsword up your ass.

5. YAKUZA: LIKE A DRAGON

Here’s a fact about me I’m sure you don’t know: I love beat ‘em ups. Streets of Rage 4 had an easy time making it on this list because it can be classified as both a “beat ‘em up” and “good.” Here’s another fact about me: I’m not the biggest fan of JRPGs. I’m told this is not because of any personal preferences I harbor, but rather due to a distinct lack of culture. I’ve made peace with that. At least my uncultured ways are distinctive.

But my disinterest in JRPGs is notable here because it illustrates how very good Like A Dragon is. Transitioning the Yakuza series from a reactive brawler (entrenched in an open-world SIM) to a full-blown turned-based RPG was risky -- especially 8 entries into the mainline series -- but it pays off explosively for Like A Dragon. Not only does the goofiness, melodrama, and kinetic energy translate to an RPG -- it’s improved by it. Beyond a new protagonist -- the instantly likable and infinitely affable Ichiban Kasuga -- we’re finally treated to an ensemble cast that travels with you, interacts with you, and grows with you. Their independent stories weave into Ichi’s wonderfully and end up mattering just as much as his.

The combat doesn’t lose any of its punch now that you’re taking turns. In fact, it feels wilder than ever and still demands situational awareness as your enemies shift around the environment, forcing you to quickly pick which move will do the most damage and turn the fight in your favor. RGG purposefully made Ichi obsessed with Dragon Quest (yes, specifically Dragon Quest) as an excuse to go ham and morph enemies into outlandish fiends that would populate Ichi’s favorite series. It’s a fun meta that never loses its charm.

This is the best first step into a new genre I’ve ever seen an established franchise make and I hope like hell they keep with it for future outings -- and that Ichi returns to keep playing hero. There’s plenty of callbacks and treats for longtime fans, but RGG did a masterful job rolling out the virtual carpet for a whole new generation of Yakuza fanatics.

4. GHOST OF TSUSHIMA

Sucker Punch’s dive into 13th century Japan doesn’t redefine the open-world genre. But like Horizon: Zero Dawn before it, Ghost of Tsushima takes familiar components of the genre and uses them exceptionally well, creating an airtight experience that can’t help but stand out. I can tell Sucker Punch mused on games like Assassin’s Creed and Breath of the Wild, tried to figure out what makes those games tick, and then brought their own spin to those concepts. You can feel it in their obsession to make traversal through the environment as unobtrusive as possible, letting the wind literally guide you to your destinations instead of forcing the player to glue their eyes to a mini-map. You can feel it in how seamless it is to scale a rooftop before silently dropping on a patrol, blade first. You can feel it in the smoothness behind the combat as your sword clashes against the enemy’s. Every discrete part is fine-tuned yet perfectly complements the whole. The game is silk in your hands. 

The mainline story can be humdrum, though. It mirrors the beats of a superhero origin story, which isn’t surprising when you account for the three Infamous titles and satellite spinoffs under Sucker Punch’s belt. But Jin Sakai’s personal journey outshines the cookie-cutter plot. His gradual turn from the strict samurai code to a morally ambiguous vigilante lifestyle (to becoming, eventually, a myth) is a fascinating exploration in shifting worldviews. This is bolstered by the well-written side-missions dotting your quest, some of which play out in chains. It’s these diversions about melancholy warriors and villagers adjusting to life under invasion that end up being the essential storytelling within the game. Whatever you do, don’t skip a single one.

Before GoT can overstay its welcome with collectible hunting and stat-tree building, the ride is over. If you find exhaustive open-world titles, well, exhausting, Sucker Punch coded enough of a campaign to sticking the landing and not more. But if you were looking for more, the game’s co-op Legends mode is the surprise encore of the year. It strikes its own tone, with vibrant, trippy designs, and a progression system that embarrasses other AAA titles in the space (I mean Avengers. I’m talking about Avengers).

3. THE LAST OF US PART II

The Last of Us is widely regarded as a masterpiece. It’s a melancholic trek through a realistic post-apocalypse, driven by the budding bond between a world-weary survivor and a would-be teenage savior. The fungal zombies and violent shootouts with scavengers were scary and exciting, but ultimately just window-dressing compared to the level of complicated, and honest, human emotion on display throughout the tale. While a segment of detractors helpfully pointed out that The Last of Us’ story isn’t unique when compared to years of post-apocalyptic books, comics, and movies, that argument seems to forget that a narrative more concerned with the human protagonists’ connections to one another instead of saving the world or feeding into a hero complex is pretty unique for games -- especially a high profile, AAA budgeted game.

Still, fans made heroes out of Joel and Ellie because of their own connection to their journey. And that connection is almost instantly challenged in the opening hours of The Last of Us Part II to heartbreaking effect. But I’m here to tell you that any other sequel would have been dishonest to the legacy of the original game. To be given a hero’s quest as a continuation, an imagined sequel where Joel and Ellie do battle against the viral infection that’s swept the earth, would have been a despicable cash-in. It would have been a mistake to follow-up the original’s careful examination of human nature just to placate an audience that seems to have missed the point Naughty Dog made. The Last of Us Part II hurts. But it has to or else it wouldn’t have been worth making. It’s a slow-burn meditation on the harmful ripples revenge creates, how suffering begets suffering, and how, if we don’t break the cycles of violence we commit to, suffering will come for us.

To drive this point, we’re given two distinct perspectives during the meaty (and somewhat overlong) campaign, split between Ellie Williams, the wronged party seeking revenge, and Abby Anderson, an ex-Firefly whose actions set the sequel into motion. The greatest trick Naughty Dog pulls off isn’t forcing us to play as a character we hate, it’s giving us reasons to emphasize with them. It was gradual, and despite some heavy-handed moments meant to squeeze sympathy out of the player (how many times do I have to see that fuckin’ aquarium?!), I eventually came to love Abby’s side of the story. The obvious irony being that she unwittingly walks the same path Joel did in the original.

My love for the narrative shouldn’t distract from how well designed the world is. Being a King County local, the vision of a ruined Seattle strikes an uncomfortable note -- it was eerie seeing recognizable buildings overgrown with vegetation but otherwise devoid of life. Maybe the heart-wrenching story also distracts from the fact this game is, by definition, survival horror. Exploring toppled buildings in the dark, hearing the animalistic chittering of the infected, defending yourself with limited resources… It manages to be a scarier entry into the genre in 2020 than even RE3R. There’s a particular fight in a fungus covered hospital basement that easily goes down as my Boss Fight of the Year. Human enemies make for clench-worthy encounters, too, with incredibly adept AI that forces you to keep moving around the environment and set traps to avoid getting overwhelmed.

Admittedly, the subject matter -- or more to the point, the grim tone -- was tough to stomach during an actual pandemic which has happily treated us to the worst of human nature. Still, The Last of Us Part II is absolutely worth playing for its balance of mature themes and expertly crafted world, and the way it juxtaposes beauty and awfulness in the same breath.

2. SPIDER-MAN: MILES MORALES

The most impressive thing about Miles Morales is that, despite being a truncated midquel rather than a full-blown sequel, it’s a better game than 2018’s Spider-Man. It’s not because of the instantaneous loading times or the fancy ray-tracing techniques used on the PS5 version of the game. Rather, it’s how it takes the joyride of the original game and hones it into a laser focused experience filled to the brim exclusively with highs. Like Batman: Arkham Asylum going into Arkham City, Miles starts the game off with his mentor’s best abilities and tools. From there, he discovers his own powers, his bioelectric venom strike, which ends up feeling like the missing ingredient from the first game’s combat.

Your open-world playground -- a locale in the Marvel universe called “New York City” -- is exactly the same size as the previous installment, which helps avoid making the game feel “lesser.” But Insomniac wisely consolidated the random crimes Peter faced into a phone app that Miles can check and choose which activity to help out with. Choices like this really trim the fat from the main game and help alleviate “the open-world problem” where the story’s pacing suffers because players are spending hours on end collecting feathers. This is great because Miles’ story is also great. The narrative kicks Peter out pretty early on, focusing on how Miles assumes the role of city protector, primarily focused on his new home in Harlem. Insomniac avoids retreading the same path paved by Into the Spider-Verse by telling a relatable tale where Miles defines his identity as Spider-Man. With a strong cast led by Nadji Jeter as Miles, the game lands an impactful story that weaves its own new additions to Miles’ mythos (light spoiler: I loved their take on The Prowler).

Miles Morales was pure virtualized joy from start to finish. A requirement of the platinum trophy is to replay the entirety of the game on New Game+. I didn’t hesitate to restart my adventure the minute the credits were over. Everything I loved about 2018’s Spider-Man is here: the swinging, the fighting, the gadgets, the bevy of costumes. But it gave me a new element I adore and can’t see Insomniac’s franchise proceeding without: being Miles Morales.

1. FINAL FANTASY VII REMAKE

I love subversive media, I do. And Square Enix’s “remake” of one the most beloved video games ever made subverts expectations by openly acknowledging that, yes, the original story you love exists and is consistently referenced in this game. But this is not that story. This is something..else. Because the truth is, SE could never have recreated FFVII and delivered a title that matched the Sacred Game fans created in their heads. That impossible standard is like an imagined deity, given power by feeding on raw nostalgia reinforced by years of word-of-mouth and appearances on Top 100 lists. I’m not saying FFVII is a bad game or that fans give it too much credit. Not at all. There’s a reason it’s so influential -- it’s good! But memory works in a funny way over time. We have a tendency to codify our perception of a thing over the reality of it. The connection we make to certain media, especially when introduced at a young age as FFVII had been to a whole generation of fans so long ago, creates a legend in our heads. Unfortunately, it’s a legend no developer could achieve when tasked with remaking it.

So Square...didn’t. Final Fantasy VII Remake has the same characters, setting, and plot beats as the first third of the original game but it’s not the same game, nor is it a remake of it in the traditional sense. It’s something new. And I fucking love that about it.

Everything is reconfigured, including the combat. After years of trying to merge RPG mechanics with more approachable (and marketable) real-time action (see FFXV and the Kingdom Hearts games for examples), Square Enix finally landed on the perfect balance. You fully control Cloud on the battlefield, from swinging your impossibly huge buster sword to dodging attacks. The ATB gauge (no one knows what the acronym stands for -- that information has been lost to time) gradually fills up, letting unleash powerful moves. But best of all, you fight in a party, and you can switch who to control on the fly.

That may not sound revolutionary, let alone for a Final Fantasy, but each character has a completely unique feel and suite of moves. At times, it feels like playing a Devil May Cry game where you can switch between Dante, Vergil, and Nero on the fly (that’s a free idea, Capcom. Hire me, you cowards). You can soften up an enemy with Cloud’s buster to increase their stagger meter, switch to Barret for a quick gatling barrage, and finally switch to Tifa to crush them with her Omnistrike. You can accomplish this in real-time or slow down the action to plan this out. It’s a great mix of tactics and action that prevents the game from feeling like a mindless hack n’ slash.

What really, really works here is the character work. Each lead walks in tropes first, but the longer you spend with the members of your party, the more their motivations and fears are laid out. You end up having touching interactions with just about the whole main cast. There’s a small segment, after Cloud saves Aerith from invading Shinra guards, that the two make an escape via rooftop.They make light conversation -- small talk really -- but it’s exchanges like this that feel genuine, perfectly framing their characters (stoic versus heartfelt), and grounding an otherwise larger-than-life adventure.

Many bemoaned the fact that FFVIIR only revisits a small portion of the original game, but I think it was a brilliant choice -- to massively expand on areas we only got to see a little of in the original. I honestly didn’t want to leave Midgar. It’s a world rife with conflict and corporate oppression, sure, but Midgar is beautifully realized, from the slums below the plates, populated with normal people trying to make the best of life, to the crime controlled Wall Market, adorned with gaudy lights and echoing honky tonk tunes. It very well may be years before FFVII’s remake saga comes to a close, but if each entry is paved with as much love and consideration and, yes, storytelling subversion as this introductory chapter… It’ll be worth the wait.

[aion-rsa]

The Nevers Star Laura Donnelly Answers Burning Finale Questions

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The following contains major spoilers for The Nevers episode 6.

The star of HBO sci-fi series The Nevers has never shied away from the fact that the show’s sixth episode would be a big one.

“Six is an extraordinary episode,” Donnelly (who plays Amalia True) told Den of Geek prior to the series premiere. “It provides a lot of the answers to the questions that the audience might have. It seemed like a very natural cut-off point.”

Whether episode 6, titled “True”, is a natural cut-off point remains to be seen. Due to the coronavirus pandemic suspending production, the show’s initial 10-episode first season order was shortened to six and “Part 2” (containing six more episodes for a total of 12) is set to arrive at a later date. It’s hard to argue though that episode 6 is anything but extraordinary. 

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How HBO’s The Nevers Explores a Very Different Vision of Victorian Girl Power

By Lacy Baugher

“True” doesn’t merely provide some answers to long-running Nevers questions – it basically upends the premise of the entire show. It turns out that creator Joss Whedon’s initial vision for The Nevers wasn’t merely Victorian ladies with supernatural powers, but that of a much larger story about the human race on the edge of collapse and a dimension-hopping alien species intent on helping us.

Whedon departed the project during the production delay so when the show returns it will be up to new showrunner Philippa Goslett to shepherd this bold new vision. To get ready for that, Den of Geek spoke with Donnelly about the many revelations of episode 6 and what the future of The Nevers entails. 

For those looking for a more complete rundown of just what happened in this truly wild episode, check out our explainer over here. But here Donnelly does an admirable job of unwinding “True’s” many twists. 

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Den of Geek: I participated in the press day interviews before the season premiered. Now I’m wondering what was that press day experience like on your end? People ask you “So what’s your show about? What’s going on?” And then you just kind of have to sit back and lie!

Laura Donnelly: It’s the most frustrating thing ever. I wanted to go into some details but honestly it felt like I could say nothing without unraveling an entire six-episode arc. People would ask me “How did you research to get into the role?” I can’t say that I researched what it might be like to train in the army, what combat would be like with PTSD, things like that. So I’m left going, “Oh, I just read some books on what it’s like in Victorian times.” It made me sound like a really lame researcher. 

You mentioned back in those pre-air interviews that when you first had the meeting for this show, Joss gave you kind of the “whole picture.” Was this episode what that meeting was referring to? And what was your reaction like when you first heard it all?

Well, it was obviously then that I realized I was not dealing with Victorian X-Men. (That meeting) introduced the idea of having an entire backstory of somebody who has been through so much and then gets thrown into this situation and has to deal with it. I just knew that that was going to be such a deep dive into this character and that there was going to be so much to be able to explore with it. Then it was bringing in the elements of how the show is relevant to today, not just in an allegorical sense, but literally – how they are trying to go back in time to make sure that humans do better.

I couldn’t believe that a mind or a show could hold that much. And I knew that I had to be a part of it. What blew me away about (episode) six was that I didn’t know the details, how the story would be told and everything. Now I just can’t believe that with this single hour of television, they managed to tell all of these separate stories with such beauty and nuance. And not just with a ton of exposition, but instead, showing these things in the most clear way possible and that you find out so much in such a short period of time. 

Definitely. The first chapter in this episode is really filled with futuristic sci-fi jargon and there is very, very little expository dialogue. Maybe this is a non-sequitur, but have you ever seen the movie Primer? It kind of reminded me of that in that sense.

No.

It’s a time travel movie made by Shane Carruth a while back (Editor’s Note: 2004). And all of the dialogue is just complete jargon that only an expert in theoretical physics would understand for basically the whole runtime, but the audience is still able to pick up what’s happening for the most part. This episode just reminded me of that.

Yeah. I love it for that. I love it for the fact that it rewards intensive viewing. It’s not the show that you can watch while you’re scrolling on your phone. If you are willing to just buy into that, you realize that on first watch you get the important information: the Galanthi are an alien race that are here to help humanity from itself, and that Stripe is Amalia. Then everything after that the more passion you bring to watching it, the more you get out of it.

I finished my first re-watch right before this interview and I think I finally understand just now how and why Stripe got sent back in time by the Galanthi. Because things are too far gone now. The Galanthi are finally going to really help and their version of really helping is just “We’ve got to go back. Humanity needs a fresh start.”

Yeah! I loved that there were things that I realized from watching it that I hadn’t picked up in the reading of the script. When they suddenly realize that the portal is an exit one and not an entrance one, that makes Knitter (Ellora Torchia) in that moment lose all hope. But what you come to realize is that that is not a moment of despair actually. You realize that the reason that they had an exit portal was because they had a plan and they weren’t coming back. You see that with the Victorian artifacts in the room. In fact, this plan was brought together with the scientists. They were working on that together. That was only something that I caught from watching it.

What was it like watching Claudia Black play your character?

I thought she did a really, really beautiful job. It was strange for me because I wanted them to shoot that before I shot my Stripe stuff, so that I would have a lot more to go on to replicate when I first land in the asylum. But it just couldn’t work out that way and they had to shoot all of Claudia and the future stuff after I’d already shot in the asylum. I went in and watched a lot of their rehearsals and got some video footage of their rehearsals and stuff so I had a good idea of what it was that she was doing with that, but it was just amazing to watch the whole thing put together. It’s like the final piece of a puzzle that I didn’t even have any say in. I was just kind of glad really that it matched up to what I had in my head, because I’d been having to make a lot of guesses when it came to playing Stripe in the asylum. 

It occurs to me now that for five episodes you’ve been playing a woman with a North American accent doing an old-timey Victorian British accent. What was that process like?

It allowed a little freedom actually because, on her part, it’s a learned accent. I didn’t have to be hugely strict about the rules of what would be particularly Victorian. I allowed myself to bring a little more modernity to how she would phrase something. I kind of hoped that people would pick up on the idea that Amalia seemed, in some indistinguishable way, slightly anachronistic. I also then kind of hoped that there would even be the odd person going, “Oh, well her accent’s slipped there, she got it wrong there” or whatever, because I kind of felt once you then see episode six, they’d see why. 

When you think of the character in your head, what name comes to mind first: Molly, Zephyr, Amalia, or Stripe?

Amalia, actually, but the second one that would come would be Stripe. It’s funny, “Zephyr” is the last one I think of and I think that that is probably true of Amalia as well in that it is so far pushed down. It is so far into her past for so many different reasons. It would be too painful to have all of the implications that the Zephyr name carries in the forefront of her mind. In her soldier way of being, she just needs to constantly move forward. 

Again, back before the season premiered when I spoke to you and Ann (Skelly), my first question was about characters’ names and how they were a little odd. Perhaps that was a bit prescient because in the far flung future names are sacred. What was your impression of that concept and why do you think names have become sacred?

I wonder if it’s just the idea that it’s the only little bit of recognizable humanity left for them. I think that people will always find a way of making something sacred. You need what is sacred to you at times when things are most difficult. You’re looking at a human race that doesn’t even have real food. Everything is engineered and they can’t even breathe the air outside. The sacred can be very important in moments of deep, deep despair like that. A name is something that everybody can have, and a name is something that everybody can therefore keep for themselves.

At the same time, it also speaks to the idea that everybody then is involved in that war on one side or the other. It doesn’t seem to me that you’ve got the army and then you’ve got citizens. It seems to me like everybody at that point in humanity as they’re coming towards the end is on one side or the other and is fighting. That means that everybody is being called by their rank, and so Stripe is known as Stripe That also makes a name more sacred because it’s the part of you that isn’t involved in this war. It’s the last vestige of true humanity that you might have left.

Any updates on the production process for part 2? I believe last time you had yet to see any scripts. 

I’ve had lots of conversations with (new showrunner) Philippa Goslett and with Ilene (Landress), our producer but I have as yet not read a script. I’m just waiting, but I’m in prep. I know enough about the next couple of episodes to know what fights I need to learn and things like that.

I cannot imagine being in Philippa’s shoes right now. Showrunner changes happen all the time but this is one of the more unusual narrative circumstances to fall into, I think.

Absolutely. I mean, the show is wild, but I think that, whatever else happened, we were so fortunate that episode six became this very natural break point in the story for obvious reasons. So much has been wrapped up. I feel like the world is built and the characters are established, you know. It really could go pretty much anywhere from here and it just needs somebody’s brilliant imagination to do that.

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Now that the real plot behind the curtain was revealed, does the name “The Nevers” have any more added significance?

Not that I’m aware of, no. I think the only thing that I have to go on about the name is something that Joss said several years back about the idea that these people never should have existed. They’re anomalies or even the more pejorative term – abominations.

Do you think future seasons and storylines of the show will take things past Victorian England and inch closer to that dystopian present?

I mean, I would love for it to. It makes sense to me that it started in Victorian times because that was a key moment of change in so many different ways in how the world communicates. There are kind of several revolutions going on at once, technological being one of the main ones. But it would be really interesting then to see how that progresses, and the issues at hand get dealt with, depending on the social aspects of different countries or different decades. The key to all of that is can you find a really cool way of doing it? Because my head isn’t able to come up with that. Whatever keeps the storyline the most interesting, keeps the characters true to themselves, and doesn’t jump the shark, I’m well up for.

The Nevers season 1 part 2 is awaiting a release date at HBO.

The post The Nevers Star Laura Donnelly Answers Burning Finale Questions appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[melyaliz]

Remember me pt. 7

Master List

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x OC

Notes: I have been having a ton of My Hero Academia ideas which is so annoying because... I just don’t have time to write them. But I may try to do a few shorts? Idk no promises.  

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

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-0-0-0-0-0-0-0- Olive - -0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

“I need an insult for this character to call the other character,” Olive said looking up from her position on the floor where she was typing away editing the Alien romance she was working on. Eliott was playing some sports video game.

“A cum milkshake,” he said without missing a beat

“What?” Olive let out a slightly shocked laugh.

“You heard me.”

Olive fake gagged rolling her eyes as Eliott burst out laughing “See? It’s perfect, I don’t know any context but I’m sure it’ll fit into any story.”

“You nasty” Olive chuckled going back to her story. “I’ll keep my story questions to only guns, Metal bands, and sports.”

They both lapsed into silence again Olive moving from the floor to the couch continuing to mold her story. The bones were already there; she just needed to add the meat. Like creative insults. Eliott got up moving to their kitchen. A few moments later he reappeared with a glass of something.

“Oh speaking of Cum milkshakes.” Eliott shickered holding out the glass, “Try this.” he held out his beer stein which had what looked like a foamy orange juice.

“Oh fuck what is that?” Olive said, taking a sip without question. Regardless of his off-color jokes she always trusted Eliott with his food and drink concoctions.

“It’s a beer-mosa with that white that Joe gave us.”

“It’s amazing when did you think this up?”

“Right now.”

Reaching down Eliott tried to take the drink from Olive only to have her slowly pull away from him looking up as she took both hands to grip the cup frowning at him.

“Did you want me to make you your own?” he asked chuckling  

“Oh, this one isn’t mine?”

“No, I’ll make you one.”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Bakugou has said he would be coming home late that night. Thus Olive had hunkered down with Dolemite to read her stories. Turns out she actually owned hard copies of the books on a shelf next to her desk.  So after finding a blanket she had made herself a nest to dive into her works.

Dragon’s Dick turned out to be officially named “On Dragon’s Wings” about the ups and downs of dating a dragon shifter. Two hours later she was live texting Lilly bits of the story laughing at her work and getting so exciting trying to guess the ending. Lilly was getting a kick out of it texting her back with crazy theories even though she knew just how things turned out.

Olive was in it deep which was why she felt like she was waking from a dream when the door opened to her apartment. Dolemite letting out a soft meow before walking up to greet the blonde.

Her husband.

She could hear him curse at the cut along with a string of low words she assumed were in Japanese. It made her chuckle as she was sure the clingy cat almost tipped him on his way in. The fluffy cat had a way of getting right under your feet when you didn’t pay attention to him.

A  moment later Katsuki came into the living room his dark red eyes searching for her slightly desperately only to relax when his gaze fell on her curled up in her fluffy blanket. She smiled up at him, eyebright body much more relaxed than they had been.

“Welcome home.”

“How’s it going?” he grunted nodding toward the book in her hand,

“I’m actually good! And like… it’s like reading all my ideas but finished!”

“Well that’s because they are,” he said sitting down next to her.

“I see so many things etched in these too… and some things I think are… maybe you?”

“Huh?” that took him by surprise.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, flipping through a few pages trying to find the part. “It’s just so specific and I know it’s not something that.. Uhhh”

“Eliott would do.”

“Yeah”

“What is it?”

“I’m trying to… oh here it is.”

Brock leaned forward to light the fireworks “You light up my world” Cami said giggling at her own stupid joke.

“God you're stupid.” he chuckled his golden eyes flickering toward her as he, without looking lit up the firework. It sparked and flew up into the sky exploding into a million colors raining down on them. He was showing off now. Cocky smile on his face. “

Bakugou frowned, he had honestly never read her books. She had never asked him too so he just never had. But he now had a strong desire to pour over each text to see just what she thought of him. “You then tried to light one and almost set yourself on fire.”

“That’s in here too.” she laughed her thumbs going over the pages. “When did we start dating? This book says it was published about 3 and a half years ago.”

“Almost 4 years ago, we have been married for almost 2.”

“So we would have been together during at least some of this. That would make sense. Since there is a bit of a shift in tone from the first few chapters and the last ones. In fact this book in general is a bit different from my other ones that I do remember.”

“Oh?” Now he was really curious.  

“Before my stuff was more… funny. Offbeat and silly. And this one is a lot like that, maybe a bit darker humor and then it kind of shifts to…” she paused holding the book in her hands, “almost tender.”

“Tender?” something about that made his heart heavy. Tender. He wasn’t sure he would call their relationship tender. Fiery sure. Passionate yes. But Tender?

Bakugou wasn’t a tender guy.  

But thinking back to those first few months. Late nights texting. Video chatting. Her just smiling at him while he spent an hour explaining moves he was working on. Venting about work or just life. That one time she made him watch Miami Connection with her when she came to Japan and her laughing so hard she was in tears while he screamed at her asking why she would put him through something like that.

He didn’t think of those moments as tender but she did.

All those times he could catch her just smiling at him. Just sitting there watching him do whatever it was he was doing with this look that he couldn’t describe. At first, he used to get mad, thinking she was laughing at him feeling insecure about her gaze. But whenever he confronted her about it she would just shrug and go “I just like you.”

Then one day it was just normal. To see her catch his eye and just give him that soft smile. Like he was the greatest thing that had ever lived.

Looking back at it now was like seeing it in a different shade of color. Something about that seemed so strange to him. As if he was looking at this from an outsider. Looking in on someone else’s relationship.

“Hey Katsuki” her voice was soft and he was taken out of his musings. He turned studying her feeling that deep sadness that came from knowing that you may have lost something forever. All that history they had built together. A fear that maybe she wouldn’t like him anymore. She would want what she used to have so much more. That those looks she used to give him were gone forever. “I want to go to therapy.”

“What?” of all the things he thought she would say he wasn’t expecting that. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Didn't want to. As if he so much as made a sudden movement this moment would disappear too.

“Is there some way I could do that? Maybe I could find a way to jog my memories. I just… I hate this.” she studied his face, both of them trying to read the other trying to find what they had lost. “I want to remember you.”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The next few weeks were weird ones. Bakugou would take a random day off here and there and even come home early or leave late. Just to make sure she felt comfortable in her environment. Help her find some sort of routine so she could do things without him needing to help her. While she always told him she could figure it out it was partly for him. He just wanted to make sure she was safe.

She started going to a therapist about twice a week and some things seemed to be coming back.

Mostly her Japanese.

Which made sense since she had been studying it for around a year before Eliott’s death. So Bakugou wasn’t sure if that was coming back because he was starting to talk to her in Japanese to help her or if it really was her memory.

There were other small things. Maybe muscle memory. When they would sleep he would feel her reach out for him, her fingers brush his side as if confirming he was there. He wasn’t sure if it was him or Eliott that she was reaching for but he didn’t care. Taking her fingers in his own he would hold onto her and pretend it was her body remembering him. Even if her mind didn’t

“Baku Baku?”

Bakugou froze at the nickname. He hadn’t heard that one in a long time. It was as if an icy hand had clinched his heart squeezing it hard. “What?” he asked.

“This video,” she said holding up. “Lilly sent it last night”

Olive was on Lilly’s floor laughing and talking in a mix of English and Japanese. He remembered that night. They had flown to the US to see some friends and family. While there Lilly, Clare, their husbands, and a few other friends had all gone out drinking. Olive had ended up taking shots with Clare and the two girls had gotten very drunk. Bakugou had basically half dragged, half carried her back to Lilly’s place

“That’s my fiance Baku Baku, he’s so cute.” Olive was saying as pointed at someone off screen.

“Good luck with that she’s done.” Lilly’s voice laughed from behind the camera.

“Are you filming me!?!” Olive asked, pouting her glassy eyes glaring at the camera.

“Yeah Nickie wanted to make sure you made it home”

“Nickie I’m going to cuddle the shit out of my Baku Baku. and then I’m going to...”

“Ok we are done,” Bakugou said coming into frame, bending down picking her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She giggled looking at the camera mouthing ‘wow so strong’. Then leaning forward she started not so quietly whispering to him

“I’m going to suck your--”

“Bedtime!” Bakugou said, shoving his hand over her mouth making her laugh.

That had been over almost 3 years ago but it felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago.

“Damn your arms are huge,” Olive said, zooming in on the image of Bakugou’s arm holding her. His bicep looking particularly large from the angel he was flexing.

“Hard work,” he smirked, enjoying the praise.

“I can’t believe you picked me up.”

“I can still pick you up,” he stated.

She giggled, shaking her head, “I believe you... Baku Baku.”

“God idiot.” as much as he hated that nickname he couldn’t help but admit it sounded amazing at the moment. Was he really that desperate for some sort of normalcy?

“Oh and this one too!” she giggled pulling up another video. Olive was standing slightly flushed, her arm slung over Momo’s. They were in a bar, colorful lights pulsing with the music blasting above. Mina’s voice came from behind the camera, clearly filming the two other girls.

“What happened?”

“This guy tried to grab Momo’s tits so I told him to take his little dick energy somewhere else and leave my wife alone.”

“Oh are you guys married now?” there was a giggle at the end of Mina’s voice, clearly finding the exchange hilarious. Momo had long ago gotten used to Olive’s very physical way of loving her friends and shrugged under her best friend’s arm.

“Yep, sorry Baku Baku.” Olive said, grinning pulling Momo closer to her playfully.

“Momo?” Olive said pointing to the girl,

“She’s one of my classmates from high school. She’s a pro, number 5 actually. You, her and the girl talking are all really good friends. There is also June that girl there.”

“Oh, where were you there that night?”

“No that was a girl’s night.”

She nodded looking at the video, “Can we go hang out with them? Would that be weird?”

Bakugou didn’t want to tell her that they had all been asking about her for weeks but he… he kind of wanted to keep her all to himself. Like if he held her close enough maybe he could pretend they were fine. And showing his old classmates what had happened was something that may have happened on his watch.

“I don’t know…” he said slowly.

They hadn’t found much on the mysterious America. He seemed to have disappeared into the wind. While Olive didn’t really go anywhere alone and Bakugou hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary to suspect he was coming back he still felt overly protective.

Maybe the America thing had just been some weird fluke.

But he had this feeling it wasn’t. Deep down it just didn’t feel right.

And no one from her past life had a querk like that.

He looked over at her. She was looking up at him clutching her phone with wide eyes. She looked so cute like that. “Please? I’m in the best city in the world and I feel like all I do is stay in here and read my own stuff.”

“I’m here” he hadn’t meant it to come out as hurt as it did but. It had.

“And you’ll be there too?” it was posed like a question, he wasn’t sure if that was a language mix up, she kept seeming to do that. Some sort of old bad habit. Maybe it had something to do with living in California. They all talked like they were asking questions.

“I can see if some of the old gang is available. But I doubt Momo will be. She is busy.”

“Mina and Kirishima too?” she asked breaking into a smile. He knew she was really only asking for them because they were the only other names she had seen. Mina had reached out even after Bakugou had told her not too. The two girls had gone back and forth a little bit. Mina’s English was ok and Olive’s Japanese getting better.

“I’ll ask. But don’t get your hopes up.”

“OK!” she giggled excitedly and he felt a sense of dread about it. Anxiety building up slightly at the idea.

“I said don’t get excited.”

“Too late Baku Baku!” she jumped up almost tripping over the blanket still wrapped around her. Instinctively he reached for her but pulled away when he saw her right herself.

“Don’t call me that!” it came out harsher than he meant it too. Force of habit. But glancing over at Olive she was already back on her phone looking through old photos of a girl’s life she had lived but didn’t know anything about. Her feet leading her toward the bedroom. Probably already planning her outfit.

He was going to regret this wasn’t he  

Slowly she stopped in the hallway that split the living room from the other rooms in the apartment. Turning to him she looked at him confused.

“Are you coming to bed?”

His heart lurched at the image. Her all wrapped up in her blanket waiting for him. So familiar it made him want to lunge forward pulling her to him. Press her back to the wall while pushing his body against hers. To wrap himself up around her while she looked up at him with that little playful smile.

Instead, he just stood shoving his hands into his pockets as if that would hold him back. “Whatever, needy,” he mumbled, passing her as he walked toward the bedroom. She giggled watching him before bouncing after him. Like always ignoring his jabs as if she found them endearing.

Guess some things don’t change even if everything else does.

-GET TAGGED-

Master List

Story Tag: @0hmydeku @inumorph @it-jinxed-us @myraticm

[dreadnought-dear-captain]

You Asked, I Told

(Note, if this post shows up twice or massively delayed or just looks weird, it’s because it was flagged for adult content [??!] because I had a picture of Willem Dafoe’s face in a gif. I am not even kidding. Do with that information what you will. I’ve removed it and I still don’t know if/when this can be publicly viewed, I’m kind of lolling. So if you see a blocked out photo that looks like porn in your post, I swear it’s just a gif from The Lighthouse!)

Hello, amazing people. This weekend, I’m putting the final touches on my last draft of Baghdad Waltz Chapter 39, which will then go to the beta for one more round of edits. I imagine I will have the chapter posted in 1-3 weeks, which is close to record speed for me, especially since it’s around 30k words. I’m going to be talking about my writing process (at unfortunate length) for one of the asks, for those who are interested. 

Please forgive me. I’m feeling quite verbose and a little squirrely. I blame living alone during lockdown. 

It’s also Memorial Day weekend in the States, which is when we are meant to honor those who gave their lives in military service to this country. This is often confused with Veterans Day (November 11), which is honoring anyone who has served in the military and is no longer serving. This gets further confused with Armed Forces Day (rotating date, May) which is to honor those currently serving in the military. I know, super confusing. 

There’s a wide range of opinions on how Memorial Day should be commemorated, which often involves gathering with friends and family for a barbecue or some other social activity. It’s the first major holiday after a huge holiday drought throughout the late winter and spring, which often makes people look forward to it immensely. Some people feel it’s inappropriate to celebrate Memorial Day with barbecues and fond social gatherings because it’s dishonoring the memories of those who can’t be here, people don’t take time to remember those who have died, people have no idea what the day is actually for, etc. Others, even some very vocal veterans, maintain that people died so that we could be here to celebrate in freedom, so why not relish this life we have? Many offer the caveat that it’s appropriate to at least acknowledge the purpose of the day, even if it’s just in a few minutes of quiet reflection. 

Anyway, I offer this as a little food for thought for this upcoming long weekend. 

(And in case you missed it, I posted a BW Timeline for your reference.) 

Contains spoilers through Chapter 38.

[Takes deep breath]

I’m so glad that you are enjoying the read and that you’re finding it inspiring for your own work. I think my dedication to research for BW is threefold. 1) As this story evolved, I decided that I wanted to create the most realistic depictions of military, civilian, emotional, and physical life that I reasonably could. I will fully admit to lapses in this, deliberate and unintentional, because sometimes the plot just needs to go and I can’t wait around for a year-long medical discharge process for my character. 2) I’m in an academically stringent occupation, and because research is such a prominent part of my work life, it’s bled to my hobby. (IS THIS EVEN A HOBBY ANYMORE?) And 3) I get very easily and passionately obsessed with things and delight in getting “into the weeds” with a subject. Almost every research divergence usually takes me off track for at least an hour. And you will never catch me without an MTA subway map open in at least one tab.

But that wasn’t even your question! Sorry. Are you beginning to get a sense of why BW takes me so long to write?? I cannot keep my shit on track. As for the bibliography, YES! I plan to include that in my author’s note at the end. I wish I had kept better track of all of my works consulted over the past three years, but I will definitely discuss the importance of some of the main ones. I’m so thrilled that you are interested, and I’m excited to share them!

Thank you. This is such a kind thing to say, and I’m humbled and delighted to hear it, especially because our fandom is so blessed with some AMAZING fics. And asks certainly don’t have to be questions! I appreciate them all (except the flaming bag of dog shit ones, which I haven’t had in a while, hooray).

(Re: Chapter 37) Good question! I imagine Claire would want to keep the 1:1 conversation somewhat limited, as she is treating the couple as a patient rather than them as individuals. If anything, she might have somewhat superficially checked in to see if he was okay rather than dive into anything regarding the relationship with Bucky not around. That could be seen as a betrayal of trust to Bucky and could be interpreted as favoritism, which Steve craves and which Bucky is probably terrified about.

I am always pleased when people re-read and enjoy it or get new things out of it, even if it’s sometimes a re-read is a function of my slow-ass writing. I really want a story with good re-read value.

You make an excellent point about Bucky’s relationships. His friendship with Jack also had no real closure. Sometimes this is a factor of circumstance and sometimes it’s because of his avoidance, like a self-fulfilling prophesy almost. He’s learned that people betray you, either by hurting you or dying, so he creates conditions sometimes (often unwittingly) for things to go sour and end poorly, or he will simply make himself disappear so that he’s not hurt and doesn’t have to wait to see if he will be abandoned or betrayed. He’s not a guy who is good with goodbyes.

As for Thor, I totally see how it would read that way. I think Thor started out fishing for longer-term possibilities in a romantic relationship but then realized Bucky is really not a guy who is comfortable settling (which, as we can see, is true). As for why it seems more serious, one thing is that Thor still wanted Bucky in his life as a friend, possibly one with benefits. They have a lot in common, and it’s hard for veterans - and, more specifically, special operators - to find people in their lives they can relate to with these very intense life experiences. I wanted this to be a real relationship, but maybe not necessarily one that was bound to become a RELATIONSHIP. I think Bucky was very intriguing and attractive to him, and he very well may have struggled with his own vacillation between whether to take it seriously or whether to remain friends+. This can lead to mixed messages.

And we also have to remember Bucky’s notoriously unreliable narration, where he will see what he wants to see. Our perspective comes from him. We see the details he zooms in on, miss the one he ignores, view the relationship through the lens of his own contentious desire for a real relationship, even as he consistently demonstrates the lack of capacity and his fear about getting serious. I imagine Bucky has having an extremely poor ability to distinguish friendship from romance, and why wouldn’t he, given the most recent bit of history we have learned about him with Jack? He’s had a series of friendships become sexualized, and I think this affects his capacity to be discerning. Bucky’s radar for relating, whether friendships, romance, or potentially dangerous sexual situations, is terribly mis-calibrated. How confusing for him and for the people in his life. Of course, everyone is free to interpret the dynamics of any relationship however they choose. These are just some of my thoughts.

I really appreciate observations from the re-read! Thank you!

I watched the video and you are right! This is definitely a Bucky song. Bucky’s sense of self is by turns profoundly distorted and lacking in grounding, especially now that he’s not in the military. He’s been in a low key existential crisis since he was a kid and has turned to drinking and sex and war to fill this horrible void, and although I can’t speak for what the artists here intended, I certainly sensed those elements here for sure. (Also, what an interesting choice for a music video…)

Thank you for sharing! I’ll add it to the unofficial BW playlist in the author’s note, which consists of various songs people have associated with BW and shared with me.

Good question! I started off this story picturing the actors who represent the characters in the MCU, because I figured we’d be picturing that when we read the fic anyway (though my beta told me she doesn’t see them as the actors, more like artists’ renderings of the characters, which I find interesting). So when describing their physicality, I tend to refer back to the MCU, since this is technically an MCU AU. But the longer I go with the story, the murkier the resemblance feels to me, especially when I think about Bucky, IDK why. I have also been considering doing something more with BW after I finish it (i.e., converting it into a proper not-bajillion-word novel, sunk cost and whatnot), in which case I would definitely change the characters’ appearance, names, cut MCU Easter eggs, etc. So when I try to think of who these people might be in future iterations of the story, things get even more blurred in my mind when I imagine them.

I wonder how other people see them??

So, with regards to PTSD clinical teams, there is some variation across VAs in the system. Some focus more on military-related trauma, whether it’s war, military sexual trauma, accidents, etc. as a way of concentrating their services and managing supply and demand. From talking with providers in these kinds of systems, sometimes you just NEED a military-related trauma, but you can be treated for, say, a childhood trauma if it’s more pressing. Other VAs are very open in their criteria, and you can see them for pretty much any kind of trauma that qualifies diagnostically for PTSD (or sub-threshold PTSD) without question. That’s why I love the expression “If you’ve been to one VA, you’ve been to one VA.” That said, it kind of doesn’t matter what kind of PTSD clinical team is at the VA in Manhattan, because Bucky has so much military trauma that he would very likely qualify to receive services in any PTSD clinical team. They just might focus on childhood stuff (if Bucky actually let them, which is another matter entirely).

This is a great question! Thanks for asking.

I love a snarky asshole Bucky so much, and I’ve tried to temper this version of him with enough hard-earned genuineness to offset it a little bit. It’s such a tender balance with him, because if you back him too far into a corner, he’s going to let you have it. But if you give him too much space, it’s hard to pin him down and wring something honest from him. He’s definitely learned to use humor and sarcasm to deflect from painful or uncomfortable situations, and it’s a very adaptive short-term strategy that makes him both endearing and infuriating to others.

But ugh, yeah, shit gets so rough around Chapter 28/29. I don’t know how to feel when people have really strong emotional reactions to this story, because one part of me doesn’t want to contribute to the crappy feelings people may already be struggling with — especially in the times of COVID — but I don’t want to be afraid to dive into the hurt these characters are experiencing. That’s why I recommend checking in with oneself before reading to get a sense of how much emotional bandwidth is available to manage the immense problems of two people struggling so much. I also think that for some people it can be cathartic or otherwise not-bad maybe (?), based on the feedback I’ve received. I also really try hard to balance out the painful stuff with growth, even though it can be terribly difficult to locate sometimes.

In comments to folks, and here, I often talk about adjusting the ticks on your measuring stick for progress, where instead of leaps of progress over feet/meters, we may be observing things on an inch/mm scale. This story is my most sincere effort at a “recovery is not linear” narrative, which I think is so much more reflective of real life for a lot of folks than a straight upward trajectory. Humans are such creatures of habit, and the lessons these characters have learned through their lives about themselves, trust, relationships, and how to manage emotions are very deeply ingrained — often through traumatic means. These are the lessons learned the hardest, with the greatest perceived consequences for change, and it takes real courage for us to be able to try new things even once, let alone to establish a reliable pattern of behavior. This can lead to a lot of frustration for us as readers/writer, and I come from a place of this being okay, because we are encountering a parallel process with the characters, who are frustrated with each other and themselves about the same things. I do hope the pain/progress/joy ratios are not horribly out of whack most of the time. That’s another reason I like long chapters, because if this was just blips of sometimes terrible episodes in shorter form, I think it would be very challenging to not lose hope entirely.

But I’m so glad you’re finding the read meaningful, even if it’s sometimes painful and difficult.

(YES.)

And FINALLY -- (this is all soooo long, I’m so sorry.)

Oh, thank you for this question! My spreadsheet ended up getting too difficult to manage, and I actually had a small crisis six months ago about how the fic was going to end, because it just didn’t feel right. I had to scrap it and go back to the drawing board and really ask myself - what would these characters really do? Naturally, as a factor of their psychologies and circumstances, how will they bring this story to an end? Some advice I once heard about a “satisfying” ending is that it’s the place where there’s simply nothing more to say about the characters. There’s no more story to tell. I had to abandon all of my desires  and ideas for a particular ending or concerns about making people sad or happy or excited or disappointed. I know that the only ending that will be satisfying is one that makes sense for these people. Anything contrived or backward-engineer-y wouldn’t feel right to anyone. I do have a couple of specific character arc things I want to happen, so I set those down as touchstones and said, okay, what would happen next? What would Steve do with this? And what would Bucky do with this? And what would they do with the thing the other person did? I take a very psychology and prior-behavior-based approach to plotting, almost all character driven. The rest is just figuring out what is supposed to go where and how to organize it.

I’ve converted everything to a Google Doc and have a very basic outline where I write plotty-plot stuff. I also have a “garbage dump” doc where I write certain lines I want to use or certain details I want to include somewhere. When I get into a new chapter, I’ll check the dump doc as I outline and write to see if I want to pluck anything from there. I have my outline open regularly to add to it. Sometimes I write scenes out of order, dialogue first, but that’s only if I really am excited about a particular scene and cannot contain myself. Otherwise, I write completely chronologically and have no buffer. I post things as soon as I write them.

As for your specific questions, I do have a “process” for getting into my characters’ heads. It helps to know them so very well and to have a firm sense of their idiosyncrasies and patterns of behavior. As you may have noticed, they repeat their patterns all. the. time, as humans do, but I also want to have them change their behaviors a little as things go and they progress. So I may wonder what they could do a little differently, why they would WANT to behave differently, and imagine what they would need to do to change their behavior. Do they need to take breaths? Do they remember the last time some shit went down? I really try to think of the “how” and “why” of every single action - from big blowouts to eye rolls.

So once I’ve figured out what they are going to do, I try to pinpoint the associated emotions I want to highlight. This is a whole separate process, because I have to think also about their internal versus their external emotional states. Steve, for example, will often have a discrepant inside and outside, because one of the truths about his character is that he is a chronic suppressor. There is also the issue of unreliable narration and interpretation of behavior. Steve might do something in a scene, but that doesn’t mean Bucky is going to interpret it the way it was intended. I have to think about their individual filters, which often reflect their internal beliefs about themselves. Bucky is more likely to read Steve’s actions as reflections of how BUCKY feels about HIMSELF (e.g., he’s disgusted by me because I’m disgusting) rather than imagine what Steve is really thinking based on his own experiences and beliefs about Bucky. I also attempt to convey some of the more second and third layer emotions that people have in situations, rather than only highlighting the primary emotion. Sad things don’t always just make people sad. Powerful emotions, for example, might make Steve feel out of control of himself, which could generate secondary emotions for him like frustration because he’s losing control. Part of the process in the construction of the narrative is also scrubbing what I’ve written for POV, because Bucky’s word choices aren’t the same as Steve’s, and in order to try to preserve the “voice” of each character, I often have to change the words I’ve opted to use, as well as the syntax.

So, as you can see, there’s a lot of layering that is happening all the time. As for the dialogue, I have no compunction about saying the lines aloud, “acting” them to see how they sound, to get a sense of what tone I want them to say things in. Now that I think of it, I do a bit of movement-based stuff, thinking about how people sit and stand, figuring how many steps it takes to get from A-Z, what it would look like to lean against something, how it would feel on the body, etc. I try to get the most felt sense of things as I can. If I’m imagining a scene, I try to put myself in the shoes of the characters to the point where I feel the emotions, just so I can know how it reflects in my body and my mind and behavior. I have more than once gotten drunk and drunk-written drunk Bucky then gone to clean it up later, as drunk writing can generate some great content I never would have been able to come up with sober, but the form, grammar, spelling, etc. is often rubbish. I also talk a LOT to my beta about all of this stuff, and I have certain friends and acquaintances in the fandom who are my consultants for various things.

So, I’m somewhat method I guess?? Is that a thing?? I dunno. It’s not hard to do when you live and breathe a story. It’s required a deep level of interest in - quite possibly an obsession with - the characters and their lives. I adore my characters, not in a self-congratulatory way, but because they feel so real to me. So it’s a joy to plan and write -- though I do hate first drafts with a passion.

OH - I also sometimes fast-draft chapters, which I did for 39. That is, write as FAST AS YOU CAN with no regard for how shitty the writing is. I wrote 10k words in a week, which was a finished fast-draft for me, and thus I had a very good felt sense of what was going to happen in the chapter, which felt amazing. It requires intensive outlining before, and nearly every word had to be rewritten, but one of the greatest frustrations of a story for me is having blank space ahead. Re-writing is way more fun than first draft writing. I have fluffed it up twofold with higher quality content, which I did all in less than two months…!! 

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

Well, this is surely my most unnecessarily yammering YAIT in history. But I hope it at least conveys my enthusiasm for these wonderful asks! It’s so lovely to hear from all of you, even if I take an eon to get back to you. Hang in there, everyone!

@grimshady @hutchhitched​ @b0n3l3ssm1lk​ 

(And thank you to @bae-buckyaboveeverything​ for the shout out. You made my day<3)

[kny-secret-santa2019]

from: @nezukobestneko

to: @cierrasl

here’s the shinogiyuu oneshot! i actually haven’t tried eggnog before, and thought it was egg coffee (a popular drink where i live) halfway through writing :’) but all in all, this was such an enjoyable prompt to write for, and i hope you enjoy! happy holidays :)

“Just drink it.”

Giyuu stared down at the thick, creamy lava that climbed up the sides of his mug, leaving a round stain the color of a newborn chicken that hovered just beneath the mouth. Bubbles sunk into the surface of the liquid, where flecks of brown clustered. “Weird texture,” he summed up.

“It’s eggnog,” Kochou picked up the spoon in her own mug and stirred. “Egg whites with cream and milk. Don’t tell me you don’t know what an egg is. You know what an egg is, right, Tomioka-san?”

He tilted his head to the side, ignoring the smug glow on her face. “You sure that’s all that’s in it? It looks like there’s—”

“I know what I put in. I haven’t ran this coffee shop more than three years for nothing, alright?” She put her mug to her mouth. “So just drink it.”

“Is it alcohol again? God knows I’ve sworn that off since last year. I mean, don’t you think it was a bit much that the entire swim club started their routines with ‘Tomioka drunk-diving’ for three months straight?”

Kochou giggled in gulps, careful to swallow the rest of her drink without choking. “You have to admit, it was funny. The fact that you couldn’t smell it in the coffee, too! I bet I still have that video of you squirming like a dying starfish in the water.”

“So that’s what it—ah!” Tanjirou, the mane of his red hair peeking out from the next table, exclaimed. “I asked Uzui-san why we had to flail our arms and twitch our legs like that, but he just said it was a flamboyant signature move. Sanemi-san called it a different word, though… dumbass, I think.”

“But there’s none of that in this drink, of course.” Kochou smiled her tight-lipped smile. Knowing her…

“What about other things? Like those… those laxatives from two years back?”

“I said, there’s egg white, cream, and milk.” Still with that smile on her face, she banged the mug on the table with each word. Her audible slurping filled the silence that had settled between them.

Giyuu’s eyes found themselves on his drink again. “That doesn’t sound too complicated; well, to you. Can’t you teach me to make my own?”

“No offense, Tomioka-san, but as much grace and elegance as you have under the water, you probably can’t boil a pot of it on land. It would take at least a good few days to teach you to make eggnog. And, to be frank,” she waved a dismissive hand, “that’s too much time to be spending with someone like you.”

Tanjirou’s head popped up from behind, an arm slung over Giyuu’s drooping shoulder. “Did you hear that? Shinobu-san complimented your swimming! She said it was graceful and elegant!”

“Shush, Tanjirou.” Veins across Kochou’s forehead bulged out like Iguro’s white devil of a snake. “Besides, I’m already spending too much time with you as it is. After all, who would waste a whole evening on a guy no one likes?”

“I am not disliked by people,” Giyuu muttered, at the same time as Tanjirou protested, “I would spend a whole evening with Giyuu-san!”

“I’m not talking to you, Tanjirou,” she snapped. “You know what,” she swiveled her head back towards Giyuu, all smiles again, “if you’re so afraid of drinking the eggnog, I’ll have Kanao test it out for you. Just to show you I haven’t, like, poisoned it or anything. Kanao?”

The girl, her round tray tipping down to serve some six or seven drinks, perked up at the sound of her name. “Coming, nee-san,” she called out from several tables away.

Was that genuine surprise? Or did those two plan this out together beforehand?

“What did you call me for?” Kanao held her arms together on the stripes of her plaid skirt, her fingers interlaced.

Kochou jabbed the handle of Giyuu’s mug with the edge of her nails. “Could you drink this and tell Tomioka-san how it tastes? He hasn’t tried eggnog before.”

“Oh-okay.” Kanao stirred the mug once, twice, before putting the spoon to her lips. Nothing seems to have been added in the process.

“It’s good as always, nee-san.” Her words barely rose above a whisper, confined by her tight smile. “Um… how do I say…it’s creamy and milky, but not… not eggy.” The outermost pleat of her skirt was all that remained in sight by the time she finished her sentence.

“There you go,” Kochou stretched her arms across the table, her mug already drained and pushed aside. Her head bobbed back and forth. “Want some cinnamon to go with it?”  

She left before you could see a reaction. But surely Kochou wouldn’t poison her own sister?

“You want cinnamon or not?” she repeated, jerking him back from his train of thought.

He blinked. “Like, the swirly things? Cinnamon rolls?”

“Nevermind,” she put a palm to her face; over at the next table, Tanjirou tilted his head up, asking “Did someone call me?”

Giyuu pushed the mug into his arms, hugging his hands around the smooth curve of the glass. A warmth that seemed to emanate from the very core of the drink prickled his fingertips. It felt… nice.

“Just drink it.”

And he did—he hovered the mug just above his lips, letting the eggnog flow down in a river of spongy gelato. An explosion of sweetness, like melted ice cream and vanilla milkshake and hints of spicy nutmeg all whisked into one, condensed along the length of his tongue. With each gulp, a buzz of warmth ran down his spine and filled his stomach. Kochou was one hell of a brewer, but it was only now that he truly appreciated her talent.

She drummed her fingers on the table. “I told you it’s good, isn’t it?” Her face was flushed the color of bricks. Is it that hot if you drink it from the start? Or is there something in my cup that’s making me see things?

“Stay here and keep on drinking, then. I have to go,” her words sloshed together. “It took way too much time just getting you to drink one drink, so I have to go.” She pushed her chair back in a swaying motion, tilting precariously to the right as she turned to leave.

What’s up with her?

Tanjirou, who appeared to have been watching this whole time, nudged Giyuu on the head. “There are two mugs on the table she could have spiked, Tomioka-san.”

Does that mean… “Why would she—” Giyuu snatched the empty mug that laid across the table. It reeked of rum.

“Buh-bye, Tomioka-san! No, Tapioca-san!” Kochou giggled at her own (very lame) joke. She took a shaky step, her heels still hovering above the ground, and smacked squarely into a row of benches.

Before he was even aware, his body had leapt up from his seat, from his table, and pitched itself forward. For that brief moment, his feet were midair; the coffee shop around him blurred into the lush purple that flecked Kochou’s hair. He landed in her arms. No, her arms were wrapped around his, which were wrapped around her body. His nails clung to the back of her shirt, his grip firm without digging deep in fear of hurting her.

“So you can dive for something that’s not the water.” For the first time, Giyuu felt like ‘soft’ was an apt description of the way she gazed at him. And her rose-colored cheeks, pulled up into a smile, didn’t have the tension of a thread painting holding itself together when his fingers brushed through them.

Footsteps had assembled around him. “Wow, Tomioka-san, that was so,” Kanroji drew out the syllable, her long braids brushing against the side of his head, “romantic! Shinobu-chan is so lucky to have someone as fast and caring as you!” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Iguro giving him a look that stank of what that devil of a snake does at its prey.

Wait, romantic?

“You caught it all?” Uzui nudged Kanao, almost making the poor girl drop her phone. “Not quite as flamboyant as the drunk diving, but still good to watch in the future.”

“With that, let’s get the party started!” Rengoku announced, his glass raised. Sanemi grumbled in agreement, as if he couldn’t get away fast enough.

They left without Giyuu; they always did, anyway. Kochou had fallen fast asleep in his arms, her chest rising and falling in time with the constant hiss of the coffee machine brewing in the background. That smile she had earlier stayed. So that then wasn’t an act; she didn’t have anything else hidden.

It was just like Kochou, too, to go through all of that just for him to hold her. If it was that simple, why didn’t she just ask that from the beginning?

“That’s quite the flamboyant party you’re planning,” Uzui slid the rum bottle along the table. “You’re sure you can handle all of this?” He eyed the petite Shinobu from a chair away.

She huffed, but dulled it with a smile. “I know my limits; I’ll be fine. And tell everyone to start without me. I have… other things to tend to beforehand.”

“Still at your place, right?” His teeth flashed brighter at the sight of her nod. “Alright then, we’ll see you around. If Iguro and Mitsuri don’t go off on their own romantic Christmas getaway, that is.” The chains on his hand jingled as he waved. “Good luck with your party planning!”

She sneaked another glance at her phone, at the early invitation she sent Tomioka. Still left on ‘read’. Thanks, Uzui-san; I’ll need it.

—

She spent hours perfecting the new eggnog recipe down to the last drop of milk and hopping around like a bunny to sprinkle in decorations from multiple angles. The handles on the clock above her station spun around too many times, trudging on from 1 pm to 2 to 5.

She popped the rum bottle right as the door creaked open. “Nee-san, may I…” The familiar tones of her younger sister’s voice began.

“Hm?” Shinobu had to redirect her ears from the bubbling mix of creamy goodness, fresh from the pan. “Could you repeat that, Kanao?”

“I was just wondering… um… if you could make a… make a special drink?” The girl’s wide eyes blinked at her feet.

“Don’t you see I’m busy right now?” Shinobu poured the rum about three quarters of the way, then topped her mug to the brim with the mix in a sweeping motion. “You should be able to brew most of the drink on your own, and I’ll help when I’m done.”

Kanao swung the door open. “I’ll wait outside—oops! Tanjirou? Are you okay, Tanjirou?”

“I’m fine!” The boy laughed good-naturedly, brushing off the non-existent door mark on his forehead of steel. “Did you ask Shinobu-san yet? Oh, and Shinobu-san,” his shoes squeaked onto the kitchen floor tiles, “Giyuu-san is looking for you. He says you have a da—er, meeting—together.”

“Tell him he can wait.” The eggnog just settled in the second cup. Shinobu gave it another good stir, just to add even more foam to the texture.

Tanjirou walked closer towards her, his face scrunched up. “Is that… rum I smell? Are you giving Giyuu-san a spiked drink?” His voice rose in muted terror.

Her muscles tensed up into a smile. Deep breath in, deep breath out. “You can’t say a word to him, okay?”  

—

Why won’t he just? Drink? It? Can’t he appreciate the beauty that had gone into this eggnog? The hand-whipped cream and steamy eggs and nutmeg sprinkles spiralling into a wave shape? And with that shell-shocked dunce face, too. Okay, maybe I did spike his drinks once, or twice, and let him make an absolute fool of himself. But he generally does anyways; I simply made it more entertaining.

“But there’s none of that in this drink, of course.” Can’t he just take a hint already?

Rum tastes like burnt sugar. I shouldn’t have sipped that much in one go.

If it wasn’t enough dealing with the complete idiot in front of my face and the scorching desert in my throat, now Tanjirou has to chime in too. Really starting to wish Kanao didn’t lead him into the kitchen…

“…I’ll have Kanao test it out for you. Just to show you I haven’t, like, poisoned it or anything. Kanao?” What did I just—is this even part of the plan? There’s this fog hanging over my head and it hurts like hell and oh well I’ll have to roll with this then.

…And that got him. Huh.

I’d already downed the rest of the rum; now every vein in my body is buzzing. I can’t sit still. Especially if he’s going to take his sweet time like this. Is it time for the group party already?

Getting up from the chair, walking towards the big table, even crashing into the benches: it was all a haze, with coffee machine sounds and voices chattering and wooden floor glitching in and out. I just know I’m falling, somehow. And I’ll crash to the ground and this would have all been for nothing.

He caught her.

Tomioka may not be able to follow her plans exactly, but he got there in the end.

[sluttyten]

Distraction Pt. 2

summary: After you and Mark secretly had sex in the dorm before your brother could come back, you just can’t get enough of him, and it certainly starts to become very distracting for the both of you.

words: 6,670

pairing: Mark x Reader

“You know, I’m not a baby right?” You ask as Doyoung leads you into the dorm. “I can go places without my brother for protection. Or supervision, whatever it is that you think you’re doing by coming everywhere with me.”

He looks over his shoulder at you. “I’m just trying to spend time with you. What’s so bad about that?”

The dorm is quiet, which isn’t so odd considering how early in the day it is. When you had mentioned going to this new breakfast place across the city, Doyoung had insisted he come with you, so now, at quarter to eight in the morning you were at his dorm. The others are probably all asleep since they’ve got the day off, and as you look around, you notice that one of the boys is asleep on the sofa.

Mark.

He has an arm thrown over his head, one leg stretched out on the sofa, the other fallen so his foot rests on the floor, and his bare chest is on full display in the sunlight. 

“I’m going to shower, then we’ll go.” Your brother keeps walking, and maybe you say something to him then, or maybe you’re too distracted by the sight of Mark like that.

You wait until you hear a door down the hallway shut, and then there’s the soft sound of the shower turning on.

Mark doesn’t even twitch when you sit down on the sofa, fitting into the empty spot of cushion between his legs. 

From this angle you can see the stubble on his chin, the faint shape of his abs hiding under just a thin layer of fat, and there under the material of his boxer shorts is the nice bulge of a morning boner. 

You’d like to pretend that the sight of his boner doesn’t make your mouth water, but that would be a lie. Ever since the last time you saw him, when he ate you out and fucked you while you were on the phone with your brother, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking of his cock. The number of times you’d gotten off thinking about that day would be embarrassing if Mark ever found out, but more than that, you’d expanded your fantasies to include what it could have been like to suck him off.

In the present moment, in reality, you brush your fingers over his thigh, feeling his sun-warmed skin under your touch. 

Mark makes a soft, snuffling noise, but doesn’t move. You skirt your fingers higher, up under the edge of his boxers. Higher and higher, your stroke his skin, watch the way that he grows harder under the revealing material of his boxers. 

When you drag your nails over his thigh, Mark groans and opens his eyes. 

“Shit!” He pushes upright, casting an anxious, fearful look around the room. 

“It’s just us.” You whisper. “Sorry, you looked so good, I couldn’t resist.” You start to draw your hand back, but Mark shakes his head and groans, his hand falls over yours, directing you to cup his boner under your palm. He presses his hips up into your touch.

Seeing him like this, already torn between wanting you and knowing that he shouldn’t, makes you want him all the more. 

“Mark, can I please suck you off?” You ask, shuffling a bit. “He’s showering, so we don’t have long, but, God, please. I just need to feel you. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since we were together.”

“Yeah,” Mark sighs dreamily, and he reaches up to cup the back of your neck, dragging you forward so he can kiss you quickly, softly yet hungrily. He nips at your bottom lip and murmurs, “Bet your mouth will look so pretty stretched around me.”

You smile and lick your lips, dip your fingers inside his boxers once again, and this time you actually touch his cock, wrap your hand around him, and draw his length out one of the legs of his boxers. You stroke your thumb along the underside, and hold Mark’s gaze as you lean in and drool over his tip, using your hand to spread the saliva over him, jerking your hand up and down his cock a few times before you actually put your mouth on him.

Mark drops his head back before you ever part your lips, and you smile as you see the way he bites his lip, trying to keep quiet.

You take your time when you take his tip into your mouth, moving to take the rest of him down, but you don’t force it. Slowly you sink down, using your hand to jerk what’s left until finally your lips meet your fingers down at the base of his cock.

Mark lets out a guttural moan, his hands moving over your hair and your neck, fingers on your cheeks, pushing your hair back, never settling in one place. 

You do your very best not to choke and gag on his cock as you begin bobbing your head. It’s already noisy enough with the swears and moans Mark is letting out. You’re terrified that one of the other guys will hear, wake up, and come to investigate only to find you and Mark like this out in the open.

When you dedicate yourself to just sucking and licking at his tip, Mark can barely contain himself anymore. He strokes your cheeks, slipping a thumb into your mouth for you to suck on with his cock. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” He drags his thumb over your cheek. “Can I take a picture of you like this?”

You think about it for a moment, weighing the pros and the cons, and in the end, you tell him, “Just my lips. I don’t want the rest of my face in it.” 

Mark moans and fumbles around as you go back to sucking him off. Soon his phone is aimed at your face, and somehow the added attention makes you want to have him cumming sooner. You kiss and lick and suck, jerk your hand over his length, using your drool to ease the glide.

“Fuck, shit. God, I’m close,” Mark moans. He drops his phone against his stomach and rakes his fingers through your hair, trying to pull your mouth off, but you moan and shake your head, swallowing around him and pushing so that he slides down your throat, as deep as you can take him.

He cums with another long moan that he muffles by pressing his fist into his mouth. 

You swallow down everything he gives you, the salty taste of his semen leaving you with a strange aftertaste when you pull off, wiping the sleeve of your shirt over your lips. You fix his boxers and his cock, tucking him back out of sight, and as he drapes his arm over his face and shivers a bit, going through the last of his orgasm, you sit up and move away a bit. 

The dorm is quiet.

The shower isn’t running anymore. You quickly move off the couch, crossing the room so you can look like you weren’t anywhere near Mark. You sit at a chair in the kitchen area and pull out your phone to look busy.

And not a moment too soon. 

Doyoung walks back into the room, combing his fingers through his damp hair, a jacket draped over his arm. 

He glances at Mark’s form on the sofa, apparently still asleep unless you look closer, and then he turns to you. “Are you ready?”

“Just waiting on you.” You hop out of the chair and tuck your phone into your pocket. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

As you walk toward the door, you look one last time at Mark. He’s watching you now, biting his lip, and you wave at him before you pass out the door.

It’s half an hour later when you get a text. It takes you a moment to decipher what the image in the text is, but then you recognize the shape of your lips. 

The image is blurry, but you understand that it’s one of the pictures Mark must have taken of you sucking him off. 

I owe you, is all the message says. 

How did you even get my number? You type out because you’ve never given Mark your number. But then you decide you don’t care how he got it, just that he has it now, so you erase those words and type instead, I’m sure we can find something mutually beneficial for the next time. 

Doyoung doesn’t notice anything while you have this whole exchange with Mark. You can’t believe that once again you’ve gotten away with fucking around with Mark right under your brother’s nose without him even noticing.

 It’s not two days later when your phone starts ringing with a FaceTime call just as you’re about to fall asleep. You’re back home for a few days again, sleeping in your childhood bed, and your parents are asleep just a few rooms away, so you quickly snatch up your phone before the chiming sound can wake them. 

Mark’s face appears on the screen, lit up by his own phone screen. 

Both of you stare at each other for a moment, a bit surprised to see each other as if he wasn’t the one that just called you.

“Hi.” 

“Just a second.” You drop your phone on the bed and dive toward your bag, digging through the pockets in search of your headphones, and when you find them, you plug them into your phone, and climb back into bed, tugging the sheets up to your chin.

Mark smiles at you when your face reappears on the screen. 

“Hey, sorry about that.” You glance down at the small rectangle where you can see yourself. It’s not the best you’ve ever looked in front of Mark, that’s for sure. “I’m back home, and the last thing I need is for my parents to hear me video chatting to a guy at this hour.”

He laughs and taps the wireless headphones he’s wearing. “I understand that. Sorry for calling so late. You weren’t asleep, were you? I just wanted to see you. It’s been a while.” He shifts, and you watch his eyes dart off to the side, and then he whispers, “I still owe you for what you did for me that morning.”

You feel your body flush with heat, remembering the feel of Mark’s cock in your mouth, the taste of his cum on your tongue. That naturally leads to you remembering the previous time, his mouth on your pussy, eating you out so well and then fucking you just as good. 

Your fingers edge toward the waistband of the shorts you’re wearing to sleep. Things haven’t been the same for you since Mark fucked you. Like, when you touch yourself it’s not quite as satisfying as that had been, and you long to feel him filling you again. You need the warmth, the heat and pleasure of his body pressing against yours, the sound of his moans and panting breaths in your ear as he takes you.

“God, I miss you,” You whisper.

Mark raises his eyebrows. “You do?” 

“Of course!” You hiss. “You’re too good at what you do, Mark Lee. When I’m back in Seoul, I’m looking you up, and I don’t care where you are, I’m coming there. How does that sound?”

“Why wait that long?” He grins, and once more his gaze darts off to the side. “Isn’t Doyoung going home this week since we’ve got a break? Maybe I can convince him to let me tag along. I’ve never been there, and everyone else has plans to go home, and I don’t want to be left behind. And as far as he knows, I know nothing about you being there already.” 

The thought of Mark being in your home, sleeping just one room away from you. The possibility of getting some time alone together again. 

You slip your hand inside your shorts and touch your clit a bit, dip your fingers lower to glide over your opening. In just a few days, you could have Mark doing this to you instead. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

Mark’s voice is suddenly lower, curious and a bit amused. 

“Just you.” You drag your fingertip over your clit. “You should ask him to bring you. We can show you around town and other places.” 

“Other places, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “I think I could be interested in a private tour.”

You can picture it now: Mark’s hands running under your shirt, fingertips moving over your ribs, cupping your breasts, his lips hot on your throat and him grinding against your hip. You picture him cornering you in the bathroom, fingering you quickly as you attempt to brush your teeth or him slipping into the shower with you and fucking you against the wall.

It feels so nice when you press a finger inside yourself, just needing to feel a little bit filled since you can’t have him. You desperately want to move into a more comfortable position and just go at it, fit a few more fingers inside yourself and fuck yourself until you cum to the thought of Mark jerking off over your chest or your lips.

Mark talks, but you can’t stop thinking about all of these different scenarios with him, so you’re not listening. You’re too busy working a second finger into yourself and pumping them, swirling your thumb against your clit, watching the shape of his lips and pretending that it’s his fingers inside you.

It’s not until he suddenly falls silent that you take any notice. He’s watching you strangely.

“I still have that picture, you know.” Mark cocks his head to the side. “Your lips. I wouldn’t mind having more pictures of you. Do you want some of me?”

Your heart clenches in your chest. “Yeah, that could be nice.” 

Mark snorts a little laugh. “Then you could have something to really think about, a visual of what you’d be working with instead of just looking at my face like you’re doing right now.” 

You drop your phone to the side, unable to face him for a moment as a wave of embarrassment rushes through your body. He knows. You don’t bother withdrawing your fingers from your pussy, but you hear him whispering your name, so you pick up your phone. 

He smiles at the sight of your face. “You’re not subtle. Your breath keeps hitching and you can’t seem to hold the phone steady. Tell me about it, what are you thinking about? What are you doing?”

“Mark.” His name falls from your lips like a sweet sigh. Maybe you would tell him what you’re thinking about, how you’re touching yourself, but at that moment, you hear a door open down the hallway, footsteps moving. “I’ve got to go, I’m sorry.”

You end the call, tear your headphones out of your ears, and sink down flat into your bed. 

There’s a quiet knock on the door, and your mother peers inside, a little sleepy and confused looking. “Were you talking to someone?”

“Sorry, I was watching a video. Was the volume too loud?” You fib, and glance back at your phone as it vibrates. There’s a text from Mark. Sorry if I made things awkward by asking about what you were doing.

Your mother shakes her head. “You should go to sleep. It’s getting late.”

Nevermind that you were an adult and she no longer dictated your bedtime. 

“I will. Right after I finish watching this. Good night.” You tap on Mark’s text to reply, and you hear your mother quietly back out of the room and close the door with a soft, “Good night.”

It was nothing you said don’t worry. You quickly send that. My mom just felt a little nosy and came to see what I was up to. 

Three little dots appear instantly, and you lie there buzzing with impatience for his reply. Finally it comes. Oh shit that coulda been akward. And then a second one, so I guess that means our fun is over?

You smile a bit to yourself as you respond. For tonight, but I’ll see you in a few days and we can pick right up where we left off. Good night. And feeling like a bit of a risk-taker, you tack on a kissy face emoji to the end before you press send.

You’ve given up on receiving a reply when you phone buzzes again.

Until next time. Good night x 

A picture is attached to the message. Mark’s hand curled around his dick, cum dripping down over his fingers. 

And as you resume touching yourself to that picture, you wonder if Mark’s thinking of you, imagining you doing exactly this.

You cum to the thought of him, and that night you dream of Mark fucking you, calling you names, and cumming loads inside of you.

It was interesting, you thought, that your parents spent the entire day before Doyoung came home cleaning the house and making it look nice. But when you came home it was just another day. They did the same for your eldest brother, Gongmyung, and you tried not to think about that, how even your parents gave your pair of celebrity brothers star treatment.

But nevermind that. 

“He’s bringing Mark with him. That sweet boy has never been here, so we’re going to show him every bit of hospitality we’ve got, alright?” Your mother said as she scrubbed down the kitchen. You bit your tongue before you accidentally let something slip about just how hospitable you were planning to be.

You couldn’t believe Mark had actually managed to convince Doyoung to bring him back home with him. Usually your brother was so protective, always trying to keep you and the other guys separated, and he tried to keep you and Mark as far apart as possible as much as possible if he could help it. But now he was delivering you right into each other’s arms.

As soon as they’ve arrived, your mother pulls Doyoung into a hug, and then she gathers Mark into her arms to welcome him and coo at him and insist that they’re both too skinny.

Your father hugs Doyoung and he shakes Mark’s hand, and then you’re facing Mark.

He looks better than he did the last time you saw him, which is strange since this time he’s fully dressed and last time you were actually face-to-face he wore only a pair of boxers. But his hair is done and he’s wide awake, he’s wearing sweatpants and a button down shirt with the top few buttons undone, and somehow he’s never looked better.

Just as you’re about to reach for Mark and pull him into a hug, Doyoung steps in, offering to show Mark around the house. Your heart sinks in your chest. You just want the opportunity to be alone with Mark for a moment just so you can touch him, just kiss him, just brush your fingers over his cheek, just hear him whisper your name with so much emotion behind it.

“Actually, why doesn’t Y/N show Mark around?” Your mother suggests. “I want to go show you off next door. The neighbors want to see you, it’s been so long.” 

Your mother is your unwitting savior.

There’s not too much to show around the house. Just the basics, really. The kitchen, the living room, your parents bedroom, your brothers’ rooms, then your own with the bathroom just right there across from your doorway. That’s really all there is to it.

Mark trails after you as you walk into the kitchen. “This is our kitchen. The fridge, help yourself to anything while you’re here. Stove, stay away from that. We’ve all been warned about your lack of cooking ability.”

You hear the front door snap shut, and the rest of the house is silent as both of your parents are escorting your brother to visit with the neighbors. 

No sooner has the door shut than Mark’s arms wrap around your waist, drawing you back against him, and his lips brush your ear. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the other night.” You can feel his boner against your ass and it takes every ounce of your willpower to not start grinding back against him.

“What have you been thinking about exactly?” You turn in his arms, loop your arms around his neck, and meet his eyes. 

Mark smiles crookedly, distractedly. “Everything. But mostly I’ve just been wanting to kiss you again.”

“And what are you waiting for?” You lift your chin a little, shake your hair back from your face, and you pucker your lips at him a bit expectantly.

His mouth knocks against yours, and together you stumble back a step until Mark catches you both against the fridge, your shoulders bumping into it, but it doesn’t stop you from opening up to his kiss. You twist your fingers into his hair and moan a little bit as Mark kisses you deeper, sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and nips at it. 

You would be happy to just make out with him, but the fridge isn’t exactly the most comfortable place to do it, so after a few delightful moments, you tug lightly on his hair. 

Mark pulls back with an inquisitive sound.

“Let me show you the rest of the house. The bedrooms.” You slide a hand down from his neck to his shoulder down to his hand to fit your fingers through his, and Mark happily holds tight to your hand and lets you lead him down the hallway toward your bedroom. “Thank God I have chatty neighbors. They should be busy for a while,” You say back over your shoulder.

Mark’s free hand wanders, reaching for your waist, and you don’t even make it to your bedroom before he’s kissing you again, pinning you against the wall, his thigh pressed up between yours. 

You twist things around, press Mark against the wall and sneak a hand down to rub at his erection over his pants. He moans, pulling away from the kiss, but you just keep going, kissing over his jaw and his throat, at the exposed part of his chest.

And then Mark’s phone rings.

He swears quietly. You start to take a step back as he reaches into his pocket, but Mark shakes his head and wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you close, just holding you against him as he answers the call.

You don’t even pay any attention to what he’s saying or who he’s talking to, you just rest your head on his shoulder and think about how nice this is. This stolen moment.

By the time he ends the call, you’re not so much in the mood to make out anymore. You point out the doorways, indicating your parents’ bedroom, then Doyoung’s, Gongmyung’s old bedroom, and finally your own. Before you can stop him, Mark steps into your room and immediately begins looking around, checking out all the pictures and knick-knacks, any books or movies or albums you’ve got sitting around. 

When he spots his own face from among the display of NCT albums you’ve got, he snatches it up and then sits down on the edge of your bed. 

“Did you choose my face specifically or was it just fate?” He asks, taking the cover off so he can flip through the photos in the album. 

You sit down beside him, crossing your legs comfortably, and you tease him, “I wanted to get Yuta’s face, but they were all gone by the time I got to the store. Or Johnny, Taeil, WinWin. Basically all of them, Mark, like you were my last choice.” 

Mark laughs and turns to quickly kiss you on the cheek. 

You spend another few moments in your bedroom with Mark taking notice of the little bits of you, and then you head back out to the living room, which is where you are when your family returns. You’re sitting comfortably, wrapped up in a blanket, and Mark is sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, looking a bit less comfortable, and he’s got the remote in hand, flipping through trying to find something that you can both agree on to watch.

Doyounf takes one look at the both of you, then comes over and plops right down between you both. 

The next two days are very much the same as that moment. Your brother constantly plants himself between you and Mark, and it gets to the point that your parents and other people notice too. 

“Stop it!” You finally cry out, punching him in the arm. “Can’t I just stand beside Mark without you freaking out? Jesus Christ.” You walk away, sick and tired of your totally innocent moments of just talking to Mark being interrupted. Like, you were out shopping with both of them, and you’d been talking with Mark about a small stone carving of a lion you were thinking of buying, and then Doyoung literally squeezed between you two, pushing you apart. 

You walk off a few feet, around a corner, out of sight from the pair of them but still within earshot.

To your surprise, you hear Doyoung asking Mark, “Why do you keep doing that?” 

“Doing what?” Mark’s voice is light, confused.

“Getting close to her like that, laughing, and stuff.” He’s got that protective-older-brother tone that you don’t hear often, and that you don’t like hearing now, not one bit. “Why do you do that?”

“Because I like her, hyung!” You hear Mark whisper-shout. “She’s fun to be around! That’s why we keep talking and laughing and trying to be beside each other. Am I not allowed to be friends with your sister?”

Silence. 

“When you put it like that it makes me sound like an asshole,” Doyoung grumbles.

“Hey, you said it, not me.” Mark laughs. “So are you going to back off now? Let us be in the same room without you being all weird about it? We’re friends, Doyoung hyung. What’s your problem with that anyway?” 

Whatever words are exchanged between them after that are lost as a group of people passes by you, all of them talking loudly, and also somewhere music starts to play loudly, drowning out both of the boys voices. By the time the sound clears, you spot the two of them looking around for you, so you go to join them and the three of you head home.

That night after dinner, Doyoung helps your parents with cleaning up, and you head back to your room.

Before you can reach your door though, you hear a quiet, “Psst!” coming from the doorway of Doyoung’s room. Mark is standing there, beckoning you closer.

“I’m not about to mess around with you in my brother’s room,” You whisper to him, but Mark shakes his head and laughs. 

“It’s not that. Come here.” He holds out his hand and you tentatively place yours in it, so Mark draws you closer into the room. “I have something for you, Princess. A gift.”

Your body tingles and goes warm at the pet name. He’s never called you anything like that before, and now that you’ve heard it, you really like it, and you want to hear it again. But also, he says he’s got a gift, and that small surprise fills you with anticipation. “What is it?”

Mark crouches down and draws something out of his bag before he stands up and presents it to you.

“Oh,” You sigh pleasantly. “Mark.”

“I want you to have it.” He reaches for your hand again, holding it palm up, and he places the gift in your hand.

The small lion carved of stone.

“You didn’t have to buy this for me.” You feel the coolness of the stone soak into your palm, a sharp contrast to the warmth of Mark’s hand cupping yours. 

Mark steps closer. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I know you wanted to buy it earlier, but then there was that whole thing with Doyoung hyung. I want you to have it so you’ll always have something to think of me.”

You bite at your smile, trying not to beam at him like a fool. “That’s really cheesy, Mark.” He blushes and you can’t help but let your smile go. “And it’s romantic and sweet. I love it. Thank you.” You lean in quick and kiss him, just a peck on the lips, and then you’re gone, dipping out of the room to disappear into your own.

You give that little lion (which honestly reminded you a bit of Mark even before it was a gift from him) a place of honor on your bedside table. 

When you wake the next morning to pale glittering sunlight, you feel like you’ve stepped into a new world. The air feels fresh, sweet and cool, and there’s just something about it that seems full of promise. Maybe you had a really good dream or maybe you just had a restful sleep.

Or maybe, as cheesy and lame as it might sound, you had the little lion figurine watching over you.

You roll onto your side and look at it sitting right there beside your old alarm clock.

It’s still quite early, barely even past sunrise, but you’re wide awake. You roll onto your back and then shift around, trying to find the most comfortable spot. You kick your legs to adjust the blanket, push at the pillow under your head. 

On the other side of the wall between your room and Doyoung’s, you hear someone stirring as well. The floor creaks quietly as someone moves across the room, and if you weren’t straining your ears you probably wouldn’t have heard the footsteps, the soft opening of the door, but you definitely hear the quiet rap of knuckles on your door.

Mark slips inside before you even have the chance to make a sound.

You scoot over, making room for him in your bed, and Mark slides in beneath your covers, not even making a comment about the fact that you’re only wearing panties and a camisole.

“I heard you moving around a bit,” he whispers, “So I thought I’d come see if you were awake.” 

This is the first real moment you’ve had alone together since the day that he and Doyoung arrived. You want to kiss him as badly now as you did then. 

So you do.

Mark makes a slightly startled noise when you curl your fingers in the front of his shirt and draw your bodies together so you can kiss him, but he melts into your kiss, soft and warm as you move your hand under his shirt, pushing it up his stomach to his chest, and then you break the kiss for a moment to tug his shirt over his head and drop it to the floor. 

You kiss his neck and throw a leg over his hips so you’re straddling him, and you kiss his chest, nip and suck and bite at his chest, tease your tongue over his nipples because you like the way he hisses and arches his chest toward you. 

His hand move to your hips then your chest, massaging your boobs as you kiss back up to his lips. When you grind down on him, feeling the hard shape of his cock slide against your panties, Mark pulls back and gasps out a hushed, “Wait.”

You rest your lips against the sensitive dip of his collarbone. “What?”

“Your brother is right next door. Your parents aren’t much farther.” Mark slips his hand to the back of your neck, squeezing a little to make you look up at him. “Do you really want to have sex where they might hear?”

You shift your hips, rolling them against his. “I want you to fuck me, Mark. It didn’t bother you when it was over the phone. How is it so much different now? And I’ll be quiet. I promise. Please, I need you.”

Mark watches as you sit up, rolling your hips slowly against his, and you reach down and pull your camisole off in one smooth move. Your tits mesmerize him, just the sight of your nipples is enough to have him caught under your spell, but then paired with the movements of your hips and the warm hand you place on his chest, Mark’s a goner.

“You’re spoiled, Princess.” He flips you under him, and both of you freeze for a moment at the sound of your back hitting the mattress, the bedframe creaking a little. When you hear nothing else, Mark continues. His fingers dig into your hips, drag your panties down, and you help him kick them off of you. 

When he doesn’t immediately touch you, you let out a little whine.

Mark’s hand covers your mouth. “Shh, stay quiet.” 

He manhandles you into a position somewhat on your side, your face buried in the pillow, legs parted enough that Mark has room to get between them, but you’re on your side when he presses a finger inside you, his thumb working against your clit. 

You moan into the pillow, the sound muffled greatly as you take it between your teeth and bite down.

“Good girl,” Mark’s hand smooths over your ass. “Keep quiet for me, Princess.”

It doesn’t take long before you’re dripping wet. You can feel your pussy weeping, and Mark’s fingers pumping in and out make a quiet wet noise. His erection digs against your leg, and every now and then he thrusts against your thigh until finally you can’t stand it any longer.

“Mark, please.” You turn to look at him, and frustratedly whisper, “Just fuck me.”

He puts his hand in your hair and turns your face back into the pillow. His fingers that have been teasing your pussy withdraw, and then there’s a moment of silence, and Mark leans close. “I just realized, I don’t have a condom. Do you possibly--”

You shake your head and feel a hot sting at the corners of your eyes. You’re so horny, so frustrated, that if this all falls apart right now you just might actually cry. You hide your face deeper in the pillow. And then you remember.

“My purse,” You whisper and point in the general direction of your purse. “One of my friends, I told her about the first time we hooked up and she shoved condoms into my purse as a joke. They should still be there at the bottom probably.”

You feel the shift of weight as Mark gets off the bed, and you turn your head to watch him walk over to your purse.

His bare body is quite the sight. His fine shoulders, the length of his spine, the swell of his ass and then his thighs. You can’t draw your gaze away as he sinks down and rummages quickly through your purse, but when he comes up with the few condoms and he stands and turns around, you find yourself presented once more with the sight of his cock.

“See something you like?” Mark asks as he comes back toward the bed. 

You choose not to say anything, just hide your face in the pillow again, and shift so you’re a bit more comfortable as Mark tears open the wrapper and rolls the condom down his dick. 

“Ready, Princess?” He asks, and you feel his hands on your thigh, moving it a bit so he has full access to your pussy again, and he pushes his fingers into you once more. “God, you’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you? Look at you swallowing up my fingers like that.”

His fingers disappear, and you’re about to whine about the emptiness once more, but then you’re no longer empty.

Mark pumps right into you, sliding in deep, bottoming out. 

You clutch at the pillow and Mark just keeps going carefully, trying to keep your bed from squeaking or groaning with his thrusts. And he’s trying to keep you quiet as well. Each time you make a sound, even if it’s muffled by the pillow, he pushes your face into the pillow again and fucks into you a bit harder.

It’s hot, you find. And you like it. 

This dominance. The silencing, the kind of breathplay happening as your mouth fills with pillow instead of a fresh breath of air. 

But soon Mark gives up on keeping you quiet, his hands are busy on other parts of your body, fingers sliding down to toy with you clit as he thrusts into you, and then he reaches under you, trying to get you to where he can touch your boobs again, and you’re pushing back on his cock, making these small thrusts until Mark rolls you almost onto your back.

“God you’re so beautiful.” He tells you, and you look up at him as he rocks into you, and you can’t help the quiet mewling noises you’re making, soft sighs, and hushed moans of his name. You roll your hips, grinding your clit against his balls because of the angle and it feels so good, you can’t even help what sounds you’re making anymore, not with the pleasure of his cock pressing inside you, your clit and nipples being stimulated, and then Mark covers your mouth with his hand again, and that’s it for you.

Your back arches up off the bed as you cum, and Mark pushes his fingers into your mouth to help muffle your moans.

He grabs onto one of your ankles and lifts your leg up, spreading your legs wider, getting you even more onto your back, and he thrusts into you anew.

Now you can hear the movement of your bed. It’s still quiet. Not knocking into the wall or squeaking much, but there’s a definite creaking. 

Mark doesn’t seem to care anymore, and honestly neither do you. His thrusts are pushing you through your orgasm, to yet more pleasure on the other side of it all, and you reach down to rub at your clit, trying to push yourself into another orgasm.

He collapses over you when he cums, seals his lips over yours, and empties himself into the condom. You kiss slowly, sticky, lazily. Your fingers stroke the back of his neck, his body presses your thighs apart awkwardly, and his sweaty stomach sticks to yours.

You would gladly lie like this for another hour if you could. Maybe doze back off into the late morning and wake with Mark. 

But you can’t because your parents and your brother would all freak out. And you can’t because at that moment, you hear Doyoung starting to move in the next room.

Mark almost goes sprawling on the floor, you push him off of you and out of bed so quickly. He barely has time to get the condom off and slip his boxers on before you’re pointing him out the door. 

He leaves your bedroom door cracked open, and through it, you can see him slip into the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him. 

A moment later, Doyoung emerges from his room, and by that point Mark is safely within the bathroom, you’ve got your sheets all pulled up safe and snug over your body, and Doyoung is none the wiser to what just happened between you and Mark.

Days later, as you’re packing your things up to head home, you find a shirt half-hidden beneath your bed. 

It still smells like Mark, and you pack it away to take back to Seoul along with your little lion figurine. Just a few little reminders of Mark.

And the next time you send him a naughty picture or video of you touching yourself, begging for him to come help out, he gets the added surprise of recognizing the shirt you’re wearing while you cum as his own.

{{ the end }}

a/n: this isn’t the final part of the distraction series because there are still more tags I’ve written for this that I didn’t get to include in this section of the story. I couldn’t fit it in given the time constraints I gave myself, plus, this seemed like a decent individual section of the story. I promise the third part will be out in less time than it took for me to post this one after the original. Also this was inspired by tags I wrote under a post (which unfortunately had to be deleted), and the video along with the original tags this is based off of can be found on my twitter (siuttyten) as the pinned tweet. 

[rigelmejo]

random notes about drawbacks/positives of mia:

My biggest incompatibility with the massive immersion approach (and in general a lot of good modern study methods) is I hate flashcards. It’s not that I dislike them as a concept - I am just super bad at concentrating on them. I am NOT good at doing the following: focusing on small bits of information, studying for short periods but Regularly, Reviewing Regularly, and sometimes I just genuinely can’t retain small concentrated reading sentences to the point it takes me 10 MINUTES a flashcard in order to understand/study it. As you can imagine, that last part is NOT efficient, and ends up making flashcards even slower for me as a study method then they’re ever meant to be. I can’t control when I’m unable to figure out/concentrate on small bits of information, so some months flashcards work as intended for me (I can review 10-20 in 10 minutes), but other months suddenly 10 flashcards takes me an hour. So I am not good at sticking to flashcards consistently - once the hard months hit, I don’t keep up with reviews, because they suddenly take way more time then they ‘should.’ However, when I can focus I try to make up the difference - and do 20-100 cards a day while I have the ability to do flashcards at a regular pace. On the upside, I’m proof you can do the SRS flashcard reviews, in a very chaotic way, and still get benefits. How I’ve done flashcards: cram 300-1000 in a couple weeks to a month, including whatever reviews I need. 2nd month - review if I can still focus, and do a few new cards (like 5-15 a day at most). By the time I can’t focus, most words are relatively-known and I only would need to review them once a week or every few weeks - if I COULD focus on reviews. However, I only actually review once a month or less at this point - and I’ll only review 20ish cards usually in that rare instance, unless I have a good day. I will not usually review the majority of those cards until my next burst of can-focus-on-flashcards usually in 2-3 more months. I have done all my flashcards THIS INCONSISTENTLY, and I’ve still retained a lot of what I studied. What I think helps: immersing in other content when you can’t do flashcards, so that you’re often still being exposed to words you studied (so they’re easier to not forget even though you stopped doing flashcards). So yeah... inconsistent flashcards, and some immersion exposure, and I was able to keep some of the gains SRS flashcards generally provide people. I can’t do flashcards consistently, and I usually have to do them in big-chunks then abandon them, but they do help me boost up how much I know when I DO use them.

More regarding my incompatibility with mia. The big thing is: I’m just not a flashcard person, not a consistent person. I have to vary what I’m doing regularly, or I burn out/struggle to focus. When I was in school, I would do the following to study: take notes/focus intently when being taught, then read the textbook/materials if I needed more help. Before tests, or to ‘review’ I would reread my notes from beginning to end of what I needed to remember. This would refresh my memory. If I still forgot/did not understand anything, I’d pinpoint that info in the book/ask my teacher/go online etc and try to just focus most of my ‘harder’ studying on those parts I was struggling with. Usually just taking notes/focusing, then reviewing everything in bulk right before I needed it (so maybe once every few weeks), was enough. When I couldn’t take notes, I would instead skim through book chapter summaries, and rewatch lecture videos if there was a digital copy - focusing most on the videos when info I forgot/sounded like key information was mentioned. Basically - notes, summaries, short cheat sheets, were all my friends. For tests like math and physics, I would read my notes AND make mini-sheets of all key formulas and how to do them/what I needed for them (usually I already had a sheet I just kept adding to over time/rereading). I could not use flashcards back then - I couldn’t focus, not consistently, not the way they’re meant to be used. It took me too long to even make them to warrant them being useful to me (I take SO long to make flashcards, its also a focus issues - also why when I do SRS flashcards I usually just grab some premade deck cause it keeps me MOVING and actually STUDYING instead of getting frozen in a task). 

This has always been my go-to study method. When I started chinese, this is how I learned 400 characters/basic words.  I bought a reference book with mnemonics, and would make myself read through it (as if it were notes I took). Occasionally I’d flip through old pages again, just to see if I still recognized old stuff, but mostly I just kept moving forward. So like - flip back every couple weeks to skim old pages, but read forward every day. I got through half the book before I burned out (because... reference books with their short entries of information? a lot like flashcards in structure, except thankfully I don’t regularly review afterwards like I would with flashcards).  It still took me 10-20 minutes for 10 entries in the book, but unlike flashcards it was a one-time task. When I got done, I had learned them pretty well - and I didn’t do anything to review them. They were just reviewed with immersion naturally, and eventually when I started studying common words these characters came up again (so if I forgot any, I relearned them easier then). This approach is roughly how I learned all words not in my premade-flashcard decks. I’ll read a chinese book - just start reading through it, looking up words I want to learn. I don’t review them, I don’t look them up again. Sometimes, maybe once a month, I’ll reread an old chapter to see what progress I’ve made - and then lookup unknown words then, as review since I didn’t remember them the first time. It sucks in a way... that SRS flashcard style study methods just.... do not work consistently for me. They are still beneficial, because in short month bursts I can quickly learn 500-1000 things with SRS (which is faster than some classes introduce words). But overall I have to rely on other study methods. Which for me feel inconsistent in progress since I can’t measure it as easy lol!  Even with no SRS, doing ‘bursts’ of this read-intensively note-like materials, then very occasionally skim old material again, does seem to work out okay for me. Back when I learned to read french, I did no flashcards. I looked up a common words list (and used my class vocabulary lists). I read through them once. Before tests (if for class), or every few weeks, I re-read/skimmed the word lists. By 3-4 months I learned the first 500 words. Then, since french has a lot of ‘similar’ sort of words, I just sort of dived into reading and then picked up words mostly that way - just checking a word list every month or so to review known words and make sure I didn’t have some big gap of missing vocabulary. 

So I guess: for me the biggest positive in mia is the suggestion to immerse often, frequently, and with a variety of materials. So that you practice different skills, learn a variety of things - and so you can move to something you like, if you get bored/unable to focus on one specific type of material. With mia you can read novels for a month, then get sick of reading and just watch shows/listen to podcasts when you walk, then if you’re burnt out from that you can just browse social media and check out fanfics/manhua/friends posts in the language for a few days or weeks before picking up longer materials again. The point is just to find ways to immerse, and do it. Simple advice. SUPER simple advice. But incredibly useful - every single time I add more immersion, I notice a boost in my comprehension. I notice actual improvement over time. I can’t pinpoint ‘why’ it happens, so unfortunately I’m not sure which complementary study methods or ways of immersing are helping me precisely with improvement in which skills. But I can tell that I am improving. I would 100% agree that immersing more is worth trying, at any language learning stage, as much as you want to. I immersed in the first months in both french and chinese, and I did much better than with japanese (where I did not immerse for 2 years and so my level stayed A1 beginner for like 2 years...). My French last time it was tested was around B1, which is fine since I just wanted to read and guess where my skills are closer to A2 and dragging it down? (Yes. Yes of course its speaking ability, of course). My chinese as far as I can pinpoint it is around HSK 4, as far as material I can easily read/listen to, as far as the practice tests I can take online. (Which, again, I’d self evaluate and say my comprehension is at HSK 4 or higher - I definitely can rely on good ability to guess meanings with hanzi and my comfort following grammar easily to boost comprehension a bit higher, but my speaking/writing is lower and I definitely only feel totally comfortable discussing topics that are manageable at HSK 3 - and my production grammar-wise is understandable but SO full of ‘this is the wrong way, use this instead’ which I’m working on...). So like... I got much farther in a year with each language I immersed in - even with the limited immersion I do actually do! So more immersion - better.  While I’m on the topic of immersion: if you like reading, read often and early. I am better off for telling myself “its not hard to read” and just diving in the deep end. Was it hard? ahahaha yes. ;w; But, I realize if I’d put off reading until say HSK 4 or HSK 5 knowledge in chinese, reading would be EVEN HARDER because I’d be so much worse at quickly reading through grammar/gathering context clues. Reading is a mix of actual reading skill, and vocab. I built up a lot of the actual reading skill by starting to try to read super early. So now my main struggle is generally just lack of vocabulary - and since I understand all surrounding grammar very well, its easier for me to roughly-guess at unknown words function and still follow the gist of what’s going on. Reading early also means, for words and hanzi I DO already know, I learned to recognize the many contexts/phrases they show up in and the various words they combine into earlier. So again, when I’m looking at a new text the hardest words are new vocab made of ALL unknown hanzi - if I know one hanzi in the word, it’s something I can often approximately guess the meaning of especially when I understand the entire rest of the sentence. If a new word is spelled with all known hanzi, I can look it up once or twice and generally remember it very fast - since its connected to what I already know. If I had waited to read until I’d learned more vocab, I would have less of a reading skill foundation to rely on right now. And based on what I’ve read of at least some people’s experiences on chinese-forums.com, many readers will go through a STEEP uncomfortable period when starting to read chinese. Something vocab does not totally mitigate. I think it just takes many hours, of the reading skills getting less and less hard, and then eventually things get more comfortable. There is also the issue of ‘comprehensible’ reading material - depending on your tolerance for ambiguity, chinese can be painfully incomprehensible for a long time. Generally people feel comfortable once they comprehend 98% of a material. But in chinese, even once you learn thousands of vocab, depending on your reading skills and abilities to ‘guess from context clues’, you will not be at 98% yet. Even if you can guess from context clues, that isn’t solid comprehension its still ambiguously understood material. So to get used to reading chinese as a learner, you have to start getting used to how it feels to read stuff only 80% comprehensible. Only 90% comprehensible. And if you get good and learn a lot of vocab and grammar and understand it better when you see it - 95%. Which is still not the range of ‘comfort’ yet. The quicker you learn to not be stressed by the ambiguity, the less painful reading becomes. And the more tolerable it is, the more you can read, and the quicker you can learn more, and the quicker you’ll REACH 95% to 98% comprehensibility. But if its so painful you refuse to keep reading, to keep using reading to push comprehensibility up... it is going to be a long way until you hit 98%... Graded readers are great, and give you stepping stones to transition this experience. Graded readers are MADE to be 98% comprehensible at different learning levels, so they will FEEL comfortable. And if they do feel uncomfortable (because you don’t have high enough comprehension), then they will at least drag your comprehension up - and still be more tolerable than the alternative of even LESS comprehensible native speaker chinese language materials. Basically though... find a way to force yourself through the harder ‘intolerable’ early parts. It happens whether you know 500 words or 2000. So you’ll have to do it eventually. I get demotivated if I’ve ‘studied a lot and still understand nothing’ so my foolish self dived off the deep end at 500 words, then at 1000, then at 1500, then at 2000. Cause I kept trying to read, being frustrated at its difficulty and stopping after a few weeks, then trying again once I’d learned more! But wow did that early trying pay off. Now that I DO know more words, if nothing else the comparison of how NICE it feels to read now in comparison to in the past, motivates me a ton. If I just started reading recently, and all I knew was it felt ‘this hard’ then I might want to give up. But like... when I started, and knew 500 words, my graded readers were PAINFUL. Genuinely intimidating. Once I pushed through one? They felt easy as pie, and graded readers at that vocab-level felt so easy they got boring. Now I find graded HSK 4 material and usually read through it super fast or don’t even bother. So I can 1. read more comfortably. And 2. because I’ve BUILT up a higher tolerance to ‘ambiguity discomfort’ I can allow myself to read harder materials if I do want to - because I can still TELL it feels easier than it used to. 

Finally, about MIA the study method as a concept. So... either because the site is long and people don’t like to finish reading, or maybe the writer is not good at summaries - but people often get confused about how to do it. Particular detail questions about how to do ‘this specific suggested activity’ make sense. But there’s a lot of people who ask “do I just turn on the language shows, and?? How do I learn?” Which, fair enough. So, as I understand it, here’s a summary: You want to learn a language. Find yourself a grammar guide - a free website, a book, whatever. Read the summary/guide, or skim it, whatever gives you a ‘preview’ of the language’s structure and what you’ll be getting used to over time. You will use this guide to reference later in the future, whenever grammar in stuff you see confuses you. You can use multiple guides later to reference. Right now, just zoom through a guide and get a general sense of the language you’re abut to learn. You can also wait to do this step until later, whenever you want. The sooner you do it, the sooner grammar will be less mysterious to you. Find yourself a pronunciation guide. Go through it, you don’t have to be a perfectionist about ANYTHING you do before or after this. Just go through, listen to it all, try to notice how its different from your own language. Notice if there’s any major differences like tones, sounds or patterns your own language doesn’t have. You don’t need to memorize, you’re just becoming aware that these aspects exists and are different. Again, this is to get you used to the language you’re about to dive into. This should probably be done early on. Look up some info about the writing system, if it is different from your own language’s. You will probably find some explanation introductory articles for beginners. If there’s any explanations about how it works, or why it’s like it is, read through it. This will help you understand the system better. You don’t need to memorize - although you may want to save a couple hundred common words, or a copy of all the letters, or a copy of a couple hundred common characters, or a copy of the radicals that combine to make characters. Read over this copied info a few times every once in a while, as you’ll see these things a TON once you start immersing.  You find yourself a premade deck of SRS flashcards (use Memrise app, Anki program/website, some alternative) of common words in that language - ideally in sentences, but single-words work if that’s all you can find. Ideally with audio - but again, whatever you can find. You may also find an SRS deck of characters (like Heisig Remember the Kanji)/writing system specific info, if you want, to go through that deck early on to help you more with recognizing the writing system as you encounter it.  Whatever decks you get, you will study those for 10-30 minutes a day. You can start doing this from day 1. (Or be like me and be inconsistent about it - just try to keep progressing forward and learning new material, even if you don’t always study. For me it was better always to move onto new stuff, instead of review, if I only had time to do one out of the two things.) Find yourself stuff to immerse with - shows, stories, audios, comics, social media, whatever. You will try to immerse every day, and try to immerse as much as you enjoy. Do this from day 1. When immersing: use either the language you are studying’s subtitles or else none at all. When watching/listening - look up words as desired, mainly though focus on context and trying to understand as much of the gist of what’s going on as you can. Over time you will pick things up. For reading - look up words as desired, and in the beginning you may look up a TON of words because you need to look up at least enough to follow the Bare Minimum Gist of What The Main Plot is. You NEED to understand at least basic context, with whatever your immersion material is, in order to learn new words from context. So: you might start with reading simple graded readers. You might use shows/books/audio of things you’ve already experienced in english, so the context is clearer to you. You might read summaries in english ahead of time. If you need more context in order to use immersion to learn any new things - then go ahead and give yourself more context. Immersion will feel difficult at first, the joy is watching you start to just ‘naturally’ pick up more. Audio immersion - for some of this, you do not need to attempt to ‘understand the gist of the plot’, you can just use it to attempt to pick out all the specific words in the language, the language’s rhythm, and get used to the language. If you’re only using an audio to learn the sounds of a language, you can probably use it as ‘background sound’ while doing other daily things, since it won’t require as constant focus as it would if you were trying to catch every single word you knew as you listened. There you go. You’re all set. Do this for a year and see where your progress is at. Quit doing this if you aren’t seeing some improvements, since if that’s the case a different study method may be better for you. Don’t do this method if you don’t like it - whatever gets you to study, is the right methods for you. No point doing something that doesn’t work for you. Eventually, as you make progress, you will decide on goals and notice mistakes/shortcomings in your skills. When that happens, add additional study materials/tasks as needed to focus specifically on those things as desired. For example - if you notice your pronunciation sucks, you may start using audio-focused flashcards, or go through a pronunciation guide again more carefully-thoroughly this time. Or - you realize your writing is bad, so you go through a grammar guide again and do the exercises, and get language partners and write to them regularly so that you get corrections. Eventually, you finish a common word flashcard deck - find a new deck, or make one, with new words you want to learn or need to based on your goals. The massive immersion approach is a basic plan of immerse-while-paying-attention+study new words/review words regularly, it doesn’t include every single thing you might do or want to do. 

Anyway, mm. tldr: massive immersion approach suggests doing immersion of all kinds, from day 1. I couldn’t agree more, every time I add more immersion when studying a language it helps so significantly and over time. however, mia also has half of it’s study method based on SRS flashcards - if you are not a flashcard person like me, my alternative study ‘method’ above works. It’s not perfect, its probably not as effective. But it works if you can’t focus on SRS flashcards reliably. Finally, I summarize mia a little. 

[charlies-crashcourses]

Charlie’s College Crash Course #1: How to write a 10-page paper in 1 day

Background info first: I’m in the last year of my English undergrad degree and I’ve had to write at least 3 dozen 10+ page papers in that time. That being said, I’ve never once started writing a paper more than a few days in advance, and 9 times out of 10 I go for one day only. Honestly, this should be considered my trademark at this point because after all my high school AP courses and my English degree, it’s been going on 7 years of 1 day papers.

and so, dear friends, I would like to pass on this skill to you all. I should mention, none of this will work if you’re not already pretty solid on paper writing, i.e. if you only ever get C’s on your papers now this isn’t magically going to get you up to an A with one day. This is just to streamline the process, allowing for more time for other things or, more commonly, allowing you to not freak the fuck out when you realize the deadline is tonight at midnight and you’ve procrastinated all month on the final paper for your class.

(I should also mention that I’m currently procrastinating a 2.5k word paper due tomorrow night that I’ve only read one of two books for, so. There’s that.)

Anyway, without further ado, here we fucking go:

Step 1: Prep for the Day

this is going to be a marathon, not a sprint, so make sure you prep the day accordingly. Ideally, you’d wake up before noon, make sure there’s nothing else planned for the day, and tell your roommates/parents to leave you alone until you officially reemerge at midnight (or, if you’re in college and have a 24 hr library, try going there. Mine has closed off study rooms that I can chill in, but if you’rs doesn’t just find a relatively comfy quiet spot). If you’re at home, pick one spot, clear it off super quick, grab some snacks and energy drinks, make sure you have everything charged and ready to go. I don’t recommend cafes or the like simply because there’s lots of distractions and also those places close before midnight, so you can’t stay there the entire time and therefor waste time moving halfway through.

Also, I would recommend taking a break between all the steps after this one. Don’t let the break take too long, but just long enough to walk the block, or grab another snack, or do some stretches, or watch a ten minute video, something like that. I personally never break at a natural stopping point, because then I’ll never get back to it, but how you break is up to you.

Step 2: Preliminary Research

now normally I do some preliminary research beforehand. Basically looking into the topic, figuring out generally what resources would be best, etc. That can usually be done in five to ten minute bursts throughout the week or so before the due date, whenever the topic comes to mind.

But then again, I’ve also procrastinated that until the very end as well, so. Usually all that takes if you go for the day of is some quick google scholar searches, or if you have access to the MLA database that works as well. Or, if you’re more like me, you could just deep dive on wikipedia and check out what relevant facts pertain to what numbers in the bibliography, then go ahead and cite those wherever possible.

Basically, get a good base knowledge of the big facts. This step should be quick and dirty. For instance, for my paper my sophomore year on Robespierre (14 pages written in a record 6 hours) I combed through his wiki, some websites on the French Revolution, and watched the Crash Course youtbue video on the subject. The rest of the research was done after I did my first outline. 

Step 3: Outline #1

This is just a basic “What the fuck am I talking about” outline. It can be bullet points, numbers, stream of consciousness, i don’t care as long as it works for you. 

For the Robespierre paper, my first outline was something to the effect of: -born poor -school -elected to govt -took over govt -killed people -got killed

and that was it. It’s like, before you build a house you have to clear off the right amount of land, make sure there’s nothing in your way, and give yourself a vague area in which to build. Super simple stuff.

I did get some advice, from somewhere I can’t remember, that a paragraph is basically equal to half a page, and so (excluding one page length for your intro + conclusion) you should have around two paragraphs or ideas per page. So my outline above would need some more points, there, to keep me on track for my page count. I eventually added a whole paragraph about how he was chosen to read for a visiting King Louis at his school and was then ignored which made him hate the monarchy, and another about what happened after he died what with the government in shambles, etc etc. So two bullet points per page should do it.

Step 4: More Research

This is where you get a little more in depth. Look at your bullet points and learn everything you need to about them. 

For my first bullet, I found stuff like: “Robespierre was born in France in 1758 as Maximilien François Marie Isidore de Robespierre (the third of this name), to a lawyer and the daughter of a brewer, he had two siblings, and he could read by age eight. he also loved pigeons and started a lifelong feud with his sister over one that he gave her that she let die."

and then I would move on to the next bullet point, and so on and so forth, filling in the gaps. Make sure to keep track of where your info comes from, as well. It doesn’t have to be a full citation, but just the hyperlink after the fact is going to save you so much time, i promise

Pro Tip: don’t throw out anything as irrelevant just yet. Just gather all the facts, no judging. Trust me on this.

Step 5: Better Outline

this is where you start to have fun with it. I would like to remind you that no one, unless you have some crazy micromanaging professor, sees your outlines. This is for you and you only, so write it in whatever way makes sense to you. It can be colorful and fun and whatever you need it to be.

 I actually took screenshots of my outline for that robespierre paper (hence why i chose that one as an example) so here’s a look at what I do:

so, really, honestly, as shitty as you need this to be, or as many jokes, or whatever works for you my dude. Explain it like you would if it were a story you were telling, not a biographical/argumentative paper. Get informal with it.

Step 6: Write the Damn Thing

Okay to now that you did the research and wrote your fun outlines and all that, all you have to do now is write it! I tend to do this in the same doc as I do my outline, but starting again from the top so I can see what I need to add next right under where I’m typing, then delete it once I’ve covered the material. 

If you did your outline well, this is really just cleaning that up so it’s “school appropriate” and “not an affront to people’s eyes and sensibilities” or whatever. At this point, it should go super quick, maybe 2 hours max to finish up writing what you need to write, here.

Pro Tip: do your citations as you go. Better yet, make your bibliography first so that A its already done and B you know what your in text cites will be from the start so that you don’t have to add them in later. If you kept your hyperlinks next to your research, just open up citationmachine and get those cites, then replace the links in your outline with the actual citations so it’s easier to line them up with in text cites while you go

Step 7: Fudging

oh, you thought we were done after writing the paper? nah fam. Chances are, you didn’t hit the page count you wanted to, you’re probably around 1 full page short, unless you love long sentences. This is where my pro tip from all the way back on step 4 comes in.

First, before you do anything drastic, make sure your formatting is correct. If your prof wants the big long “name, date, class, assignment, etc” in the top left then that adds a lot of length. Fonts will also change your page length, and so will footnotes and citations.

If you did it right and saved all the less relevant details, congratulations! Just sprinkle a few of those in there and you’re magically at your page count. This is the only reason I included the pigeon story in my paper (and this post), because I was about 3/4 of a page short of passably saying I got to 14.

If you didn’t save those inane details, don’t go looking for them now. Trust me, it’s much more pain than it’s worth. Your best bet, then, would be to either A. Add one more point if you can think one up, B. do some more research for relevant details to add in, or C. expand on the details you already have with more examples or effects or whatever applies.

do not, i repeat do NOT, just try and expand the words you use, like changing “to” into “in order to” or whatever those deflate your phrases charts tell you Not to do. They tell you not to for a reason. 1. it sounds stupid adding them in after the fact, and 2. your professor absolutely 100% will know and will mark you down if you do that in excess. Inflated phrase charts like that are well known by professors, and also adding them in after the fact won’t fit in at all with the voice that the rest of your paper was written in, so it’ll stand out like a sore thumb. just don’t do it unless it’s your last possible “i have ten minutes to turn this in” effort.

Step 8: Celebrate!!

And that’s it! If you did it right, this whole process should have taken you around the equivalent of 1 hour per page you had to write or so, so in a regular twelve hour day you’ve got time to take breaks and eat and all that shit. Go turn it in and celebrate your victory!

[thethousandyearwitch]

The Show Must Go On! - A Youtuber AU you didn’t want and didn’t need

Hisoka Morrow, italian Makeup Youtuber, enjoys his life in the comfort and occasional drama of his profession. But nothing brings more drama into his life than the eldest son of the Zoldyck fashion magazine empire.

Meanwhile, aspiring australian Twitch Streamer Gon Freecs forms a special bond to a Speedrunner commonly going by "Kil".

Chapter 2

FF.net link - AO3 link

Gon Freecs had started his twitch account mostly for fun. After he had saved enough of his money from summer jobs to afford a computer for himself, the young boy had discovered the vast world of video games, diving headfirst into whatever flash games or free steam games he could (Until Mito caved and gave him some redeemable online gift cards as a present). Pretty quickly he started making connections over some of those games, getting invited to discord groupchats, and developing friendships with people he’d frequently play with.

One Day, his friend Leorio, a medical student from France who Gon had met through one of those groupchats, asked if he wanted to join his Sunday Stream. He explained that they’d just team up for a couple of rounds of Fortnite, and Gon could leave whenever he wanted to if he ended up not liking the Twitch experience. Leorio did not admit to the fact that he only asked Gon because his usual partner bailed due to a bad hangover, and he himself was too hungover to manage a stream by himself. This resulted in a lively evening filled with banter, excited yelling, and only minor technical difficulties considering Gons location further out in the country. Leorio ended the stream, thanking his viewers, signing off, but he stayed on call with Gon.

“Thanks so much for jumping in today, I owe you!” His French accent wasn’t too thick, but it still curled around his words.  

“Its no problem! It was actually pretty fun, so if you ever need another stream-pal...” The young boy trailed off as he started to feel faint traces of sleepiness creeping up on him. His computer screen was the only light on in the room, and it wasn’t exactly gentle on his eyes.

“About that actually; Have you thought about trying to stream for yourself?”

“Huh?” Gon could hear the tell-tale creaking of Leorios chair as he reclined back. “I mean, you’ve definitely got the energy for it, you’re not half bad at playing video games; Though that’s not really a requirement...Point is, I think you’d have fun with it.” Gon let the thought of it roll around his mind like a marble. He did have a lot of fun livestreaming this once, and there wasn’t anything that exactly spoke against it, except maybe that his sleep schedule could suffer under it. But that may as well be expected of a boy his age.

“Do you think people would really come to watch me play video games?” He finally asked, voice lined more with curiosity rather than insecurity. “Are you kidding? My chat loved you! Everyone loves a cute kid whose always one victory royale away from changing his legal name into his gamer tag and develop an addiction to monster energy.” Gon giggled in reply, “I’m not even allowed to drink those.” “Thank God you aren’t, if you had any more energy than you already have, you’d probably explode on the spot. Those things are loaded with junk anyways.” Gon decided not to bring up the infamous Redbull-pyramid that always lingered in the corner of Leorios videos. He could always use that another time if Leorio tried to lecture him about healthy living habits.

“Well, I guess I could try it out this week…But I think I’d need a guide to help me set the whole thing up…” Gon grinned to himself, hearing the familiar creaking again as Leorio sat up straight on the other end.

“I mean, I did say I owe you, and who would I be to leave a kid struggling with modern technology. And since my chat seemed to love you, I may even host your first stream, get you some exposure, y’know?” Mission success, Gon fed into Leorios ego and ensured that he wouldn’t have to struggle with stream setup by himself. He was quite thankful for the older mans (by stretch of that word) help and friendship, almost like an older brother, switching between caring protectiveness and friendly torment.

“Now, isn’t it time for you to get some shut-eye?” Busted. Gon glanced at the clock in the corner of his screen, 12:13 am. They said their Goodbyes, and the young boy settled into bed almost as quickly as he fell asleep.

The coming week, as promised, Leorio had helped Gon figure out his stream setup, settling for his channel name ‘Foxbeargaming’. With each passing day and conversation about the topic, Gon felt the static inside him build up, excitement and anticipation mixing in his bloodstream, until that long-awaited Friday.

And it was worth that wait. Gon spend a good 3 hours that day streaming Fortnite, at first in Teams with Leorio and his usual stream-pal Zepile, and later a few single matches. He hadn’t even realized how easy it came to him to interact with chat, leisurely talking about what came to mind, joking about events in the game, and just basking in this new way of releasing his bubbly energy. Leorio had warned him that he may feel exhausted after the first stream, but that’s not at all what the young boy experienced; After turning everything off, he was still beaming with joy. When he nestled into bed, he curled to his side, trying to repress his smile, though it would still take a good hour before he had calmed down enough to drift to sleep.

That joy he had experienced was enough to drive him to continue to stream at least once every 5 days, not consistent enough to build a schedule, but often enough to slowly gather a fanbase, loyal viewers who started tuning in whenever he announced a stream. It took a couple of months before people started posting his stream highlights to YouTube, and after that only a few weeks before someone offered to do official edits for him, on his own YouTube channel. A YouTube channel ended up drawing even more attention to him, people in Twitch-chat mentioning they found him through compilations and highlights.

Of the people whose attention was caught by the bright faced boy, one appeared for the first time in chat while he was streaming Super Mario 64, a palate cleanser from his usual Fortnite streams. The first message had been inconspicuous enough, provoking, but not too much out of the ordinary.

“KilCat666: try a BLJ lol”  

This however prompted Gon's entire chat to egg him on to try various speedrun tactics, until the rest of the stream was spent attempting (and failing) a “Lobby Backwards Long Jump”. Gon took it well and promised chat that if they wanted to he’d try to practice again on the next stream, asking for tips in his Discord chat. Speedrunning wasn’t really his way of playing games, he was too impatient and would rather experience the game as intended, but it shook things up, and was a surprisingly great way to regain focus after playing a different game for too long. Soon enough, the Server started bubbling with tutorials, tips, and heated discussions about optimal routes. Gon read through the chat, enjoying how everyone seemed to get into the topic, while also mourning his dwindling attention span as more and more messages came in. With the overflow of information, his brain felt like it was thrown into a deep fryer (Though maybe he was just hungry). Defeated, he dropped his head on his desk. Maybe he bit off more than he could chew. How was he supposed to take all this information in and actually learn it in time for the next stream? This was worse than school. Maybe he should ju-

Bloop.

Gon raised his head from his desk, greeted by a new private message. It wasn’t anyone from his friends-list, but that wasn’t too unusual, a lot of people from his Server would DM him, and he didn’t mind talking with anyone who had something to say to him.

“Kil: Yo.”

“Kil: do you need like help with SM64 lol”

The young boy adjusted his tired eyes to the screen, trying to find recognition into the profile picture of a white cat, but not finding it.

“GON: Hi!! :^D I’m taking tips right now if you have any!”

“Kil: your inputs were really sloppy lol”

Ouch, though true.

“Kil: but you’ve got morale at least”

“Kil: I made a short guide on my channel, if u wanna check it out?”

Attached to the last message was a link to a YouTube video, and just as announced, it was a eight minute tutorial on “LBLJ”, with text overlay explaining the various steps. What stood out more to Gon however, was the view and subscriber count to the Channel ‘Kilcat666’. After scrolling through the channel a bit more, and following another link to an adjacent Twitch channel with the same name, it dawned on him; This guy was a pro.

“GON: WOW :^O you are really good at this!!!!”

For a while, Gon thought that’s it. He browsed through a couple more of this kid’s videos. He was usually just referred to as ‘Kil’ or in rare instances ‘Killu’, and there wasn’t much on him as a person, just a short bio: “Kil, 14, him/his, Yorkshire area. SM64 0 Star contender.”. His streams of attempting to break the World record for any given game got a reasonable amount of viewers, with a steady fanbase that would spam inside jokes and cat emojis in chat. And in no single video did he ever show his face, or even speak. The only real communication he seemed to do with his audience was the occasional answer in chat, or text-overlays in his YouTube videos. Gon thought about how he was a little honoured to have another well known streamer actually give him advice and watch his stuff, though obviously it seemed that Kil wasn’t interested in keeping more in conta-

Bloop.

“Kil: Thanks uh, if you’d want to, we could like make a deal?”

“GON: What kind of deal? :^O”

“Kil: I could show you some tricks for casual speedrunning”

“Kil: And maybe if you want to you could show me how to get better at fortnite lol”

Gon was beaming. He wasn’t sure why, but he was grinning from ear to ear, and it didn’t even register to himself that he was already typing up a response until he hit the enter button.

“GON: Sure!!!!!! :^D!!!! Have you ever played before? We can team up with a friend of mine for the first couple rounds!”

  Killua was never a child with many friends. Or any friends. Growing up sheltered by his family, with the mindset of one day inheriting a multimillion-dollar company, it was taught to him that acquaintances were convenient, friends were distractions.

When he got pulled out of school and put into home-schooling, it was because his friends at school were distractions.

When he snuck out to play with other kids in the country, he was placed on supervised house arrest, because he had been too distracted.

When he noticed his brother appearing in some weirdos YouTube video, he had to be told “That man is not my friend, he is a work associate.”

And like a drop of water can gradually tear through stone, the constant echoing of this rule tore through Killuas head. He still didn’t want to overtake the family legacy, but he knew better than to endanger others with his efforts of finding friendship. Instead, he decided to find solitary distractions, and found those in video games he first borrowed (or rather, took without being noticed) from his older brother. Gradually, he got more and more invested in video games, how they work, and the cultures surrounding them. That is how he found out about Speedrunning and streaming. Speedrunning was fascinating to the young boy. The effort to clear a game as fast as possible, faster than anyone else, past all supposed limitations a game would present casual players with. Specific tricks would look messy and incoherent to untrained eyes, but the hidden inputs were mechanical and exact. This is a distraction worth investing in.

At first, he didn’t care much about streaming or even recording his attempts. However, as he was slowly approaching Regional and World Records, there was hardly a way around it if he wanted to get verified records published. So, he started a Twitch Account, opting to go for his shortened name “Kil”, a half-assed attempt at keeping his family off of his tail. And as his collection of Top-3 Records grew, so did his audience when he was streaming attempts. When he got used enough to a game, he learned how to read chat while playing, even occasionally taking the time to answer questions, followed by a wave of excited cat emotes.

These are not friends, they are fans.

If he could continue to justify this, keep these people at a distance from him, it would be fine. Minimal interaction. No attachment. Easy enough.

It should have been easy enough.

But when he went through active play sessions of Super Mario 64 on Twitch, and he chose to tune into the first stream that popped up, it stopped being easy. It stopped being easy when he found himself laughing along with the cheery voice of the young streamer.

He wasn’t sure what he expected when he sent that first discord message. A small part of him hoped that this Gon kid wouldn’t reply. That way he could have just written him off as some vain lowtier streamer who isn’t worth Killuas time.

But of course he replied. And of course he would reply so kindly despite being contacted by a random stranger. Killua could feel something pull in his chest writing back and forth with Gon. This was just friendly- no. This was normal banter between two streamers who were exchanging helpful information. Two young, up-and-coming professionals in video game streaming, who can communicate like professionals.

Like work associates.

Work associates help each other out. They make deals. So, it would be okay if Killua would make a deal with Gon. Maybe get to know him in the progress, just a little, just enough to get a sense of his personality.

The pull in Killuas chest subsided when Gon agreed to his deal. But it would come back the first time they were on a call together, the first time Killua let someone else online hear his voice, hushed through a shitty in-ear cable headset, careful that he wouldn’t draw attention if someone were to walk past his room. And it subsided again when he heard Gon laugh at every bad joke he’d tell, loosened even more when he let himself laugh with him. Gon would try his best to follow any instructions he’d been given to learn speedrun strategies, and in turn Killua would let himself be guided through fortnite battles and aim-lessons. They worked well together, as if they had known each other for years, falling into a natural rhythm of jokes and casual conversation. This rhythm would continue for weeks, always coordinating when to call, taking turns with the games they would play.

Slowly, they started branching out to more games to play with each other. Slowly, Gon introduced Killua to his friends. Slowly, Killua got used to speaking on stream, just so Gon and he could guest-star on each other’s streams.

Through this gradual process, Killua felt like he was trapped in a pot of water, and the heat was being turned up just slow enough that he wouldn’t notice until its too late. Until the pull in his chest would threaten to tear him apart.

And then it did, as his mother raised her voice at the breakfast table, “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time on your Computer, Killua.”

“So is Milluki.” He tried to keep his voice unwavering, desperately trying to keep all of these gathered secrets behind it.

“We are just concerned of what you are doing on there; The internet has a lot of dangerous sides..” Kikyo Zoldyck was awfully good at turning her voice into a wail at any given time. Killua could feel his phone in his pocket vibrate from what he was sure was a message from Gon.

“..Maybe we should put some restriction on your use of it. Before it can start distracting you.”

[mcatra]

Oh my god they were lab partners pt. 2/2

part one

A03 LINK

Highschool AU fic of Hordak and Entrapta becoming lab partners. Hordak may have accidentally fallen in love with her somewhere along the way. 

Hordak's never liked anyone before in his entire life. Not even as friends. So whatever this was? Completely out of his depth. 

There was no stopping it- these feelings. It was insane how much her name plagued his thoughts in random places at all times of the day. These symptoms formed in unexpected ways, like how he had thought he was having a heart attack, when really all that happened was that Entrapta smiled at him. Or how his face would heat up and his hands would involuntarily go clammy when she would drag him by the hand to go somewhere. 

Hordak had even learnt how to braid. He had gotten pretty good at it too, if the complicated french braids and buns Entrapta was sporting before lab now was of any indication.

It didn't matter though, since she obviously didn't feel the same. She's had dozens of friends before, and he was just one of them. But Entrapta was his first friend- but he's already screwed that up. It's taken him this long to find someone that he can actually tolerate the presence of, and it seemed fate was determined to take that away as well. 

So he crushes the feelings deep inside, though they threaten to spill out every few minutes when he's with her. He's fine with being friends, really. 

The school holidays was starting, which would give him plenty of time to get over his feelings. 

This plan is immediately compromised when Entrapta insists on texting him several times a day. 

Entrapta:

yakult is the perfect size of drink but it's not fizzy!! (〒﹏〒)

Hordak: 

Perhaps you should try packaging your drinks in smaller sized Yakult bottles. 

Entrapta: 

:00 yea ur right!! I'll ask my butler to do that be righttt baackkk 

Hordak: 

A butler? 

Entrapta: 

yep my parents r always busy working!! Soda pop makes the best lunches ヾ(´ ▽ ` ) 

[image.attachment] 

It's a photo of what seems to be her lunch, bite sized cookies, scones, and of course pink fizzy lemonade in a tiny bottle. 

Looking at it, he thinks it's only customary to send a photo of his own lunch.  

Hordak: [image.attachment] 

Entrapta: ???????‽‽ Σ(°△°|||)︴ 

Entrapta: NOO9OOOOOO what is THAT ??!!!  

He's confused by her response. It was all that Prime stacked their food cupboards with, he didn't see anything wrong about his grey ration bars. It wasn't even the brown kind today. 

Hordak: That is my lunch. 

Entrapta: (ಥ﹏ಥ) I'm so sorry hordak… 

pleaseeee let me come over and deliver U some of my food!!! 

He wishes she would, but he can't afford letting Prime see her. There's a reason why he's dodged every request from her to come over. 

Hordak: Thank you for your consideration, but that won't be necessary. It gives me enough nutrition for the day. 

Entrapta: FINEE but when we get back I'm giving you all the food U can eat!!! I'll even make them big!! Just for you!! 

Hordak: I look forward to it. 

Entrapta: (≧▽≦) ♥️  

Did...Did she just send a heart? What did that mean?

He stares at the screen in disbelief. Every time he thinks he's doing well she sends his mind into overdrive. 

Scratch that, what was he supposed to send back? 

He falters on a response, anxiously trying to decide one before she got suspicious and asked him why he was taking so long. A solid 5 minutes later, he finally settles on one. 

Hordak:  :]

---

...

[Incoming video call from Entrapta]

He bolts upright in bed, hair in disarray. 

The clock reads 1am. What was she doing calling at this hour? He scrambles to lower the volume, unlocking it in the process, and when he does Entrapta's face fills the screen. 

She's in her pajamas, her hair tied up haphazardly into a messy bun on the top of her head. It seemed like she had attempted to recreate the neatly tucked bun that Hordak always did for her, but couldn't quite figure it out. 

'Hordak! I've just made the most fascinating discovery- oh sorry, were you sleeping?' 

'Ah, no. I wasn't.' He fibs, not wanting her to hang up. He didn't want to admit it, but he missed seeing her face. 'Do go on.' 

She digs through a stack of letters, and brings it up triumphantly to the screen. 

'I've found some scholarship offers buried in my junk mail!' She chirps through the pixelated video feed.

'Got one from California Institute of Technology, Harvard and MIT! They loved my research papers and scientific breakthroughs!' 

He blinks in shock. That was huge. 

'Congratulations!' He bursts out- those are incredible opportunities. ‘Which one will you be attending?' 

'Oh, that's why I called! I needed help deciding. So I was wondering…' She looked oddly nervous, tapping two fingers together. 'Which university would you be going to?' 

Hordak hadn't even applied to any university, let alone receiving offers from Ivy League schools. It had been decided since he was a kid that he would be working for Prime's company right after graduation. He hadn't considered any other alternative before. 

'I…have not applied to any yet.' 

'What?!’ She cries out, appalled. ‘You should definitely apply! You have more knowledge of cosmic forms than I do, Hordak. Plus your grades have improved exponentially this year- I even made a graph!' 

Before he can ask why on earth she had made a graph of his grades she brings out a spreadsheet of his progress. 

'According to the numbers you can definitely apply to any of the surrounding schools in the area! Oh but how fun would it be if we could go to the same university?!' 

'I can't possibly afford the tuition-' 

'Bank loans, and you can work part time! You could even apply for financial assistance. Please come.' 

Hordak hesitates, looking at the door behind him. Imp was stirring in the room next door. He lowers his voice. 

'I.. I...'

He starts and aborts a few sentences. He clenches his scarred arm unconsciously. Of course he wants to. But he had responsibilities that weighed heavily on his shoulders, and circumstances that a carefree sheltered girl couldn't even comprehend. No amount of optimism or daydreaming could fix his grim reality. 

 'I can't.' Is all he manages to say.

She looks slightly taken aback, and he can see her trying not to look disappointed.  

'..That's okay. I understand.'

A horrible sense of guilt spreads in his stomach. Entrapta changes the topic and they don't bring up the subject again.

---

Entrapta has always had trouble making friends. People usually ignored her when she talked about her interests, or were telling her what she did wrong. Usually it was a missed social cue, or she had used words that were too technical for them to understand. 

Hordak was different though. He always listened, understood her technical jargon and offered his own knowledge that sometimes even outweighed her own. She had been curious about this elusive person that everyone was afraid of since she had met him behind the bathroom block. He didn’t seem like the vicious animal that the rumours made him out to be. So on a whim, she had volunteered to be his lab partner.

At first she was just ecstatic to find someone who liked the same things she did, but soon it was more than just the shared love for science. Entrapta had thought for years that the only way she could make friends was allowing them to copy and take her work, but Hordak had showed her otherwise. A shared solidarity for two outcasts. 

Even though he showed a tough angry exterior to everyone, with her Hordak was surprisingly kind. 

He always did little things for her without prompting. Once she had forgotten to bring her jacket when it was cold and he had wordlessly handed his over for her to wear. Or how he noticed when she hadn't slept that night and bought her an iced coffee from the vending machine. He had even poured it into the lid in an effort to make it the way she liked it. 

She began to notice things about him as well, like how he got embarrassed easily, or how despite his old demeanor he could be surprisingly childish. His reactions became even more fascinating than her experiments. Entrapta catalogued them in her mind, keeping track of the emotions he would show. He was always so stoic, the primary emotion being anger or quiet indifference. A few smiles here and there, scattered in between. 

However when Hordak laughed for the first time ever, she was caught completely off guard. 

When his eyes crinkled into little slits, and his laughter exposed his canines, her brain was shaken only leaving one thought. 

Beautiful.

Entrapta had found something more valuable than any discovery she's made in her career as a self made scientist.  She wanted to discover more about him, however he never talked about himself, which both enthralled and frustrated her to no end. But graduation was coming soon, and the last thing she wanted was for Hordak to not talk to her anymore like Adora and the others.

She had tried to put off the deadline, ignoring the growing stack of offer letters that could whisk her away to anywhere in the world.

Come with me. 

I can't. 

 Why? Had she misread them this whole time? Did he not want to be with her too? But she was wrong with Adora and her friends, and Catra. 

Someone told her once how people cannot be quantified, calculated, predicted. Feelings can be there one day and gone the next. She is no stranger to failure. But it doesn't mean she isn't afraid. 

-----

School resumes again for their final term, and Hordak is inwardly thrilled to see his friend in person again. Entrapta waves at him from the school gate, before diving headfirst into all the things that happened over the holidays she couldn’t show over text. 

They agree to be lab partners again without hesitation, and fall back into their comfortable friendship. 

Soon it’s prom season, and the halls are decorated in banners, posters and flyers. People are pairing off left and right, chattering away about how to ask their dates out. 

Hordak never attends these sort of events, he always blatantly refuses to go. However during one of their study sessions in the library, Entrapta tries to convince him to come with her. 

‘It’s meaningless to go to such an event. Mingling or dancing is not a productive venture.' 

'But it could be fun! I’ve been wanting to conduct a social experiment and it’s the perfect place for it.' She protests. 'Also Prom is imperative to the high school experience.' 

He waves her away, unconvinced. It's not like he could afford the tickets anyway, and Prime would never let him go. 

'I refuse to squander my time on something so pointless. There will be no further discussion on this.' 

She pouts, turning back to her notebook. The sulky charade lasts for a record 10 minutes before she caves and starts running her mouth again. 

He's still adamantly against it, but that sentiment gets stopped in its tracks when he catches someone approaching Entrapta.

'Hey, Entrapta was it?' The tall blonde says languidly. ‘Can I speak to you for a moment, over there?’ 

'Oh, sure!' She says, getting up from her chair. 'Can I get you something?' 

'Certainly!' 

Hordak listens to the conversation happening behind the bookshelf. He doesn't like the look of them, all greasy smiles and cocky demeanor.  

'A date to the prom, please.' They smirk, their tall stature allowing them to lean over her. 

Hordaks jaw drops, and the feeling of jealousy flares in the pit of his stomach. He fights the urge to throw that cocky bastard across the room. But the knowledge that he has no right to be angry when he had already turned down her offer kept him rooted to the spot. 

Thankfully Entrapta doesn’t seem to get it. 

'Oh I'm not organising that.’ She says, tapping her chin. ‘I think Frosta and her prom committee are. Or you could ask our school captain Adora and her prefects, they’ll know who to talk to get tickets.'  

They look dumbfounded, but hastily amend their wording. 

'No, I meant- will you be my date. To the prom.' 

'Me?' 

At this point there are marks on the wooden bookshelf from Hordak’s nails. The other person looked almost cocky in their confidence, smirking while waiting for a response. 

Of course she’d accept, they were just friends after all, and she didn’t owe him anything. However Entrapta cuts through his spiralling thoughts.

‘Thank you. But I won’t be going.’ 

Hordak looks up in surprise, shocked at her response. So do they, as Entrapta swiftly passes them and lights up when she spots him behind the shelf. ‘Hordak, there you are!’ She chirps brightly. ‘Come on, I wanted to show you progress photos of my new upgrades with Emily.’ 

He feels awful as she leads them back to their desks, it seems like he was letting down Entrapta a lot these days. First with the university, and now this. However Hordak is determined to make it up to her, racking his brain for ideas until he remembers the bandaids she had given him years ago.

Cupcakes. Despite not having much he managed to scrounge enough coins to buy ingredients. 

Half of them end up charred to a crisp but he manages to salvage a few through enough scraping. With the help of Imp, he manages to frost and decorate them purple and blue to cover up the scorch marks. 

Hordak thrusts the cupcakes in her face before class, before realising that he hadn't prepared anything to say.

'I, uh, wanted to..here.' He stammers, dropping them into her palm. 'I made them. For you.'

She looks at the cupcakes, stunned. To his complete and utter horror, Entrapta's eyes start to water.

Oh no. Did he mess up? His mind goes into overdrive in panic, and he looks around frantically for a way to calm her down.

'Were they unsatisfactory? I will try again. Please allow me to dispose of those-' He reaches out to take them back but she pulls it away.

'I love them.’ 

She wipes her eyes with her sleeve, and she's beaming a crooked smile. 

He hesitates, unsure what to make of her reaction. 

‘E-Entrapta..I, um…’ He begins, remembering the person in the library. He fishes around in his pocket and pulls out two tickets. ‘Do you want to.. Go to the prom. With me. So you can study people, like you said.’

Entrapta gasps, a long and drawn out one that gets higher in pitch.

‘THANK YOU HORDAK!!’ She squeals, and she practically launches herself into his chest, nearly toppling them over. ‘Of COURSE I will!’ 

He smiles at this, glad that he had been the one to put that grin on her face. Anything was worth making her happy. 

-------

It’s a bad night again. He wants nothing more than to stay in bed but he forces himself to get up, if nothing else to get away from Prime. His older brother had found out about the money he had taken to buy the prom tickets and make the cupcakes. This resulted in having the life beaten out of him while Imp watched, cowering behind the door. He gets his phone taken from him, a clear warning not to talk to Entrapta again. 

It’s summer, but Hordak opts for a black turtleneck sweater under his uniform and a baggy jacket. He however can’t disguise the bruises on his face, as usually Prime would avoid making markings that would arouse suspicion.

He can hear his classmates whisper amongst themselves, saying that he’s gotten into a fight and beat the rival gangs in the area. Hordak growls at them menacingly, and they scatter. He watches them go, and for the first time in a long time goes to skip class.

It’s nice out, a cool breeze on the rooftop soothes his skin. He gingerly takes his uniform off, wincing as he peels off the slightly blood stained sleeve.

He should be used to it by now. But it doesn’t get any better.

‘You didn’t reply to my texts.’

Hordak nearly jumped out of his skin, whipping around to see Entrapta. She has a delicate frown on her face, and looks at him up and down.

'You shouldn’t be here.’ He says, turning away. 

She doesn't look convinced, and starts to walk towards him. ‘Hordak-’ 

‘I said, GET OUT!’ He shouts, furiously wrapping his uniform back around his shoulders. ‘The prom’s off. Leave.’ 

Entrapta disregards his outburst, striding forward to confront him. 'I can’t keep ignoring this, Hordak.’ She catches his wrist easily, looking at his wounds. 

'You come to school with these new burns, these bruises, and you never TELL me anything.’ She says, pained. 'People say you got them in fights, but I know you. What really happened?’

He stares at her, but she looks determined. Ever the scientist, always looking for answers to things she didn’t understand. 

'You really want to know?’ He growls, tearing his arm from her grip. ‘I am an orphan. My brother Prime got full custody since he’s the only one old enough to earn money to support us. I can’t leave, no matter how much he beats me. My younger brother, Imp. He’s only a toddler- if I go, what happens to him? I couldn’t possibly support the both of us.’ 

She looks shocked, but doesn’t say anything. 

‘He’s ordered me not to talk to you. So that’s what I’m going to do. Don’t make it any harder for me.’ He tries to sound angry, but it comes off more like pleading. 

‘No.’ She says simply. 

He looks at her, incredulous. ‘Did you not hear what I just said-’

‘No, I heard you.’ She replies, bringing out bandages from her backpack like the first time they had met. 

‘I’ve got an idea. I’m breaking you out of there.’ 

‘You’re what?’ 

----

Lab Partner: Are you ready??

Hordak: This is such a bad idea.

He’s had no idea how he ended up in this situation. As per instruction via Entrapta’s burner phone, he had packed a getaway bag with their documents for him and Imp, and was waiting for several of her tiny bots surveillancing the area to give the all clear. 

Entrapta had temporarily disabled the security cams in the entire neighbourhood, and was currently waiting in the getaway car. 

Hordak:  I can’t believe I’m turning on my brother. 

Lab Partner: Its okay, we can work on that crisis later!! 

Lab Partner: I've also got your disguise in the car :))) 💃💃

Prime was still out at work, and it should be a few more hours until he came back. Hordak leads Imp by the hand down the driveway and fastens him into the booster seat of the getaway car. 

'He is so cuute!' Entrapta coos, poking his baby brother’s cheek. ‘I’m Entrapta. We’re gonna make sure you’re safe, okay?’ 

Imp nods, somewhat confused. ‘Entrapta.’ He repeats, and she grins. 

They peel out of the driveway, and although Entrapta is a terrifying driver they make it safely to her house outside the city. 

When they arrive, he is rendered speechless. Was this a castle? A mansion? The guards out front nod at Entrapta and the security gates open, letting them through. 

At least he knows Prime couldn’t possibly follow him here, thanks to Entrapta’s parents security team. 

Imp has taken to the place, admiring the many robots she had engineered. Her butler offers him some tiny beverages as he waits for Entrapta to finish whatever she was doing upstairs.  

After a while she comes down the stairs and he can practically feel himself stop breathing. She’s gorgeous, dressed in a purple velvet suit, tied together with a vest and a bow tie. Her coattails swish as she walks towards Hordak, who had been stunned into silence. 

‘I...ah..’ He stutters. ‘What is this for?’ 

Imp kicks him in the shin.

‘Uh. Y-you look... exemplary. A magnificent choice of attire.’ 

‘It’s prom today! Did you forget?’ She grins, whisking him from his seat and plonking him in front of the mirror. ‘We bought the tickets, we may as well go!’

‘But Imp-’

 ‘-Will be safe. There’s no way he’ll find him here. We’ll be in and out, and be back before he’s even left work.’ 

Entrapta takes out a makeup brush and some black lipstick, and starts applying it onto his face. For some reason he lets her work, he’s never really been able to say no to her. She styles his hair so some falls across his face. ‘Now for the good part!’ She declares, and brings out a long black dress combined with an inner red cape, with slits on the sides. They’re accompanied by tall black heels and a black clutch. 

‘I-I don’t know.’ He says. He’s never worn anything that bold or attention grabbing before, usually choosing clothes that would hide his scarring. 

‘Just try it on!’ 

------

They arrive at the prom arm in arm, and people audibly gasp as they walk down the stairs into the hall. The crowd clears from their path as they make their way down the venue, their stares turning into ones of admiration. 

The person from the library shoots them an affronted look, much to Hordak’s satisfaction. Perhaps this wasn’t so bad after all.  

Entrapta starts grabbing random food off the tables for Hordak to try. As he eats she starts recording Hordak’s different reactions to each new food into her little recorder. 

‘It’s absolutely fascinating how social groups function in peculiar ways! For example,’ She commentates, pointing at her old group of friends. ‘Catra asked Scorpia out to make Adora jealous.’ 

He watches the brunette antagonize her ex friend, and Adora seemed to be taking the bait. Scorpia watches on, looking disgruntled. 

‘Seems like it is working.’ 

‘No mind, Glimmer’s only Adora’s date to make Bow jealous. But according to my observations, that seems to be less successful.’ 

He nods, seemed like there was a lot going on in Etheria he had never cared to notice before. 

Soon they are interrupted by loud commanding voice on the microphone. It’s Frosta, and she’s announcing the first dance. She looks impossibly small up there behind the podium, which happens when you skip a few grades. 

‘Let’s go dance!’

‘I don’t know how to-’

Entrapta drags Hordak onto the dance floor before he can object, joining the other couples paired around them. She puts a hand around his waist, and clasps the other in his. 

'Also, Hordak! I got you something.' She says, almost shyly, handing him a box. 'Instead of a corsage...'

He peers inside and in the box is a beautiful purple crystal, embedded onto a necklace. It has some sort of foreign script engraved into it. 

‘Wait, is this…’ 

‘Yep! It’s the crystals we grew together at the lab last term!’ She beamed excitedly. ‘Didn’t they grow so beautifully?’ 

He turns the crystal in his fingers in awe. It’s been months since the incident with the beaker. ‘What does it say?’ 

‘O-oh. Um….’ 

She turns slightly red, embarrassed. Hordak is fascinated, he’s never seen her look like that before. He presses again, curious. 

Entrapta mumbles something incoherent, blushing up to her hairline. Her grip tightens on the fabric of his dress as she buries her head into his chest. 

‘Loved.’ 

His eyes widen in shock. She finally looks up, eyes burning with sudden conviction. The rest of the prom seems to fade away into the background. 

‘I love you, Hordak.’ 

Now it was his turn to go completely red- she also looks mortified, so now they were just two embarrassed teens in the middle of the dance floor.  

‘I-I love you too!’ He bursts out, awkward and fumbling but finally honest. 

‘Really?!’ She says, her hair floofing in excitement, like she can’t believe it. ‘You really do?’ 

‘Of course-’ and before he can explain the months of agony of being unable to fight his feelings she mashes her face against his. 

His knees almost buckle out of pure shock, but can feel himself melt into the kiss, her lips are unimaginably soft. He can feel her smile against his own, and she breaks it, giggling. She goes to say something but he's the one to interrupt her this time, kissing her over and over again as she squeals. 

He chuckles at her response, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this happy. 

--- 

It's been a year since, and they find a cozy apartment in between their universities. Entrapta’s studying engineering at MIT while being cross registered at Harvard.

Meanwhile Hordak studies space science at Columbia University, while working part time. 

Hordak had collected all of his and Imp’s legal documents, voice recordings and picture evidence of the abuse and emailed them to Entrapta’s lawyers. Since he turned 18 he was able to win the court case against Prime and take Imp in to be under his legal guardianship. Thankfully he also managed to get a restraining order after a few incidents since Prime was outraged at losing his servants. 

‘I’m home.’ He says, opening the door to find Entrapta chasing Emily around the apartment, his younger brother perched on top. She picks up Imp from her bot holding him in her arms.

'Welcome back!' She greets him with a kiss. 'Ready to start our new project?' 

Hordak smiles, he's been doing that a lot lately. All the suffering he'd been through was all worthwhile if it brought him to this happy little family. He thumbs his little LUVD necklace which he wears every day. 

'Always.'