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#at least this year it’ll be shitty on my own terms
whimsyprinx · 2 years
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If I tell my household I don’t want to do anything for my birthday they’ll get upset and interrogate me and I don’t know how to explain to them I simply don’t want them to do anything for my birthday because I don’t want it held over my head another year and that nothing they could do would make it a happy birthday
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tgcg · 9 months
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candid detail. my biggest project so far
hey happy new year
CG: DAVE?
TG: yeah?
CG: SOMETHING’S KIND OF FUCKING ME UP RIGHT NOW AND I NEED TO TELL YOU SPECIFICALLY ABOUT IT IN CANDID DETAIL.
TG: oh shit
===
TG: yeah whats up
TG: not too often i get to be the sole audience to karkats grievances
CG: PFF, BULLSHIT. YOU'RE PRIVY TO WAY MORE ABOUT MY GRIEVANCES THAN BASICALLY ANY OF MY SURVIVING AND PRESENT FRIENDS, BY A SIGNIFICANT MARGIN, AND YOU KNOW IT.
TG: yeah and im boutta add another im like broses up on that hill bundled up in a long ass list of things that make the homies upset
TG: lay it on me
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CG: OKAY. SO.
CG: I’M KIND OF THINKING ABOUT JUST. US AND OUR BRO-DOM.
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TG: oh
CG: LET ME FINISH.
CG: ALL THIS TIME I’VE BEEN FUCKING FORCED TO SPEND IN THE DREAM BUBBLES MADE ME REALISE SOMETHING, AND THAT’S THAT…
===
CG: THIS IS KIND OF RARE, RIGHT?
TG: what
TG: us
CG: YEAH! LIKE… THERE’S SO MANY THANKFULLY DEAD KARKATS I’VE HAD THE INSURMOUNTABLE GODDAMN DISPLEASURE OF FAILING TO AVOID THAT DON’T LIKE YOU, BARELY MET YOU, OR EVEN JUST DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU.
===
CG: IT’S THE RARE AMBIVALENCE THAT REALLY GETS TO ME. I ABSOLUTELY UNDERSTAND A TIMELINE’S KARKAT FIRMLY DECIDING THAT THEY HATE YOUR ASS. NON-ROMANTICALLY I MEAN. THAT HAS BEEN ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. BUT THERE WAS NEVER, EVER!!! A POINT WHERE I JUST FELT NOTHING ABOUT YOU AT ALL.
CG: EVEN WHEN I INITIALLY HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF SEEING YOUR DOUCHEBAG SPECTACLES YOU GOT FROM YOUR BRO ON THE SCREEN, I AT LEAST HAD A STARTER DISH OF SKEWERED CONTEMPT TO WHET MY APPETITE. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO IMAGINE NOT FEELING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER ABOUT YOU.
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CG: ONE TIME I MENTIONED YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF A THREE-WAY ARGUMENT AND ONE OF THE OTHER KARKATS SAID "WHO?"
CG: "WHO?"!!!!
TG: now thats fucked up
CG: IT IS! AND THAT'S WHAT MADE ME FIRST REALISE THAT NOT EVERY KARKAT IS GETTING TO HANG OUT WITH EVERY DAVE, AND VICE VERSA. AND THIS IS GOING TO SOUND LAME AS SHIT IN A WAY THAT I’LL NEVER EVER LIVE DOWN, BUT. I FEEL BAD FOR THEM ABOUT IT! YOU KNOW?
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TG: well you always feel bad about around and towards other yous so thats
TG: wait
TG: is or is not the nature of this moment of self-pity fuelled by malice anger disgust or any similar terms slash phrases
CG: I MEAN, FOR ONCE? DON’T GET ME WRONG, THE MALICE ANGER DISGUST ET CETERA IS STILL THOROUGHLY PERMEATING THE WHOLE ORDEAL. THE DAY I LOSE CONTEMPT FOR MY ALTERNATE SELVES IS THE DAY I GET TAKEN OUT BACK AND PUT DOWN LIKE THE LAME HOOFBEAST I’VE ALWAYS DREAMT OF BEING. BUT…
CG: I ACTUALLY JUST FEEL SAD FOR THEM, STRAIGHT UP. INDEPENDENT FROM TERMS PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED.
===
TG: damn
CG: AND THAT FEELS INCREDIBLY WEIRD TOO. I CAN’T EVEN ARGUE WITH THEM ABOUT IT, IT JUST MAKES ME FEEL THIS SHITTY, SHOCKINGLY QUIET… GRIEF? ALMOST? FOR THEM. GENERAL NON-TROLLIAN FEELINGS. AND EXCEPTIONALLY NON-STANDARD IN A KARKAT-TO-KARKAT CONVERSATION, AS YOU MIGHT HAVE GUESSED.
CG: BUT I KNOW IF I TOLD ANY OTHER EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED REFLECTION OF MY OWN FECULENT INNER FILTH TO TALK TO YOU, OR EVEN JUST LOOK AT YOU ONE TIME, THEY’D ONLY SEE IT AS ANOTHER PERSONAL AFFRONT. LIKE I JUST TOLD THEM "HEY, SHIT ALL OVER YOUR FROND AND SNIFF IT, IT’LL BE AMAZING JUST TRUST ME, ABSOLUTELY ZERO REASON NOT TO."
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TG: you come up with the most potent mental images man youre the wordmeister of viscerally gross as hell vocab
CG: THANK YOU.
===
CG: AND LIKE… SHIT, I DEFINITELY WOULD’VE FELT THAT WAY BEFORE I GOT TO KNOW YOU! I UNDERSTAND THE INNER MACHINATIONS OF THOSE IMBECILIC NOOKSTAINS BETTER THAN ANYONE EVER COULD, DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS.
CG: KARKATS UNIVERSALLY DECIDING THAT THEY JUST CANNOT LIKE YOU ON PRINCIPLE IS A CRISIS OF SHIT HAPPENSTANCES. THE HAPPENINGS ARE ALL OUT OF WACK, COSMICALLY.
CG: LIKE EVERY ME WRITHED OUR WAY OUT OF THE BROODING CAVERNS AND THE FIRST CONSTELLATION WE SAW PEELING THROUGH THE EXOSPHERE, TWINKLING IN THE REFLECTION OF OUR HUGE RED GANDERBULBS, WAS A PAIR OF SHADES GETTING COVERED IN GASOLINE, FOLLOWED BY A CONSTELLATION OF A LIT MATCH.
CG: A SIMPLE EQUATION WITH A VERY SIMPLE SOLUTION.
CG: A SYSTEMIC EPIDEMIC, IF YOU’LL PARDON MY BULLSHIT.
===
TG: it is a goddamn catastrophe sweeping the karkat population
TG: presidents on the headlines trying to get karkats everywhere to stop quarantining their asses and have a real heart to heart among themselves about the issue but they keep isolating anyways
CG: I STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL A PRESIDENT IS. YOU’VE FAILED TO DESCRIBE IT AS ANYTHING MORE THAN A POORLY-SELECTED "DUDE CONDESCE" WHO DOES NOTHING PRODUCTIVE AND THEN EITHER DIES OR RUINS EVERYTHING, OR SOME CHAOTIC COMBINATION OF THE TWO.
TG: well that is exactly what it is but wait good point
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TG: tragedy strikes as the karkat population reveals it doesnt generally know what a president even is so it means jack shit to them that this dude is trying to get their attention
TG: and mr president he is getting voted the fuck out of office over this blunder just an embarrassing display
TG: the public trust has plummeted off the fucking chart and cratered the damn ground like a meteor
TG: or he could be the tenth to die in office yknow there was a pretty big stretch of no in-office deaths til 2009 so maybe some catchup would be good for everyone
CG: ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU WANT TO MAKE ANOTHER PRESIDENT, AND THEN KILL HIM?
TG: not me personally i just wanna be there and see it also is that dream bubble fucking huge or what
TG: must be the size of
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TG: jupiter
===
TG: look all im saying is the end of the world coincided pretty notably with a dry spell in the presidential kill:death ratio
TG: i was tragically too busy not dying to see obama die live on television when an errant meteor hit the white house that was my one chance
CG: PFFFT.
TG: i want to keep a comically aloof finger on the pulse of the shit but i do not want to be among the shit
TG: but anyways guess its my turn on the pedestal
CG: BE MY FUCKING GUEST.
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TG: yknow uh im not gonna lie if present me went back to me age thirteen sippin my dubious aj in my pre-apocalyptic layer of hell that was texas and told me
TG: hey that gray text dude is probably gonna be your best friend if you give him a shot yall could be sweet bros in real life itll be awesome
TG: i mean disregarding the fact i already doomed that guy because i dont remember that happening to me
TG: id probably be casting some wicked aspersions on that shit
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TG: our whole friendship feels like a plot twist to my damn life story
CG: I HEAR YOU.
TG: its like our narratives bumped into each other hard on the street and decided yknow what yeah this pavement is pretty cosy lets talk about your dad
TG: but
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TG: dont get your think pans too wrapped up in that different timeline stuff
CG: IT’S THINK PAN. SINGULAR. NOBODY HAS MORE THAN ONE THINK PAN, EVER. IT IS A SINGULAR ORGAN. IF YOU WOULD LET ME READ A TROLL BIOLOGY BOOK TO YOU ONE TIME WE’D STOP BUMPING INTO THIS ISSUE.
TG: gotcha and no
CG: OBVIOUSLY.
TG: but anyways dude look
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TG: i am literally a time dude and i can tell you right now with all the sage wisdome of my knightitudes
TG: not a good way of looking at it
TG: ive met daves that didnt like you either it doesnt affect jack or shit because those daves arent me
TG: like they are in a way but
TG: me and all those other guys spent the whole game honing down these doomed timelines to a fine point and that point has obviously involved a whole lot of hanging out with you
CG: …
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TG: so
TG: maybe they just missed the point while you and me were on the breaking edge of that shit
TG: we got to the bottom line of it so it doesnt matter yknow
CG: HUH.
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TG: and i mean plus
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TG: ive seen a handful of alternate daves and karkats who get along uh great apparently so
TG: yknow
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CG: WHAT?
TG: you know what i fucking mean im not saying it
CG: ROLLING YOUR SHOULDERS AND SAYING "yknow" GENERALLY DOESN’T CONVEY FUCKING ANYTHING MEANINGFUL IN A CONVERSATION, DAVE.
CG: I’M NOT A PSYCHIC. YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN. IN CANDID DETAIL.
TG: its besides the point anyways
===
TG: the point is its you right here that matters overall and you right here is chilling with me so thats gotta mean at least one or two things
CG: OKAY, OKAY, YEAH… I GET WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. I REALLY DIDN’T THINK ABOUT IT LIKE THAT.
CG: YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND BY NOW HOW IT’D BE REALLY FUCKING DIFFICULT FOR ME TO WRAP MY THINK PAN AROUND THE CONCEPT OF ME BEING THE RIGHT VERSION OF ANYTHING.
CG: BUT I FEEL LIKE THE AMOUNT OF TIME WE'VE SPENT TOGETHER CUMULATIVELY IN THIS TIMELINE MAKES UP FOR THE AMOUNT OF DAVES AND KARKATS WHO NEVER SPENT ANY AT ALL, BY AT LEAST TENFOLD.
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TG: heh yeah
HAHAH.
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CG: GOD. WHO WOULD’VE GUESSED THAT KARKAT VANTAS WOULD GET TOO FAR INTO HIS OWN THINK PAN ABOUT THIS BULLSHIT, RIGHT?
TG: stop repeating the words think and pan i get it already
CG: ARE YOU SURE? TOTALLY SURE? ABSOLUTELY ASSFUCK CERTAIN OF YOURSELF?
TG: yes dude
CG: ALRIGHT. KEEP IN MIND THIS WILL BE ON THE TEST LATER.
TG: im acing that shit i swear to god youre gonna eat your damn foot
CG: STRUT POD
TG: when i pass that shit to oblivion
TG: youre gonna regret doubting me
CG: OKAY, DAVE. THEN EXPLAIN TO ME WITH ALL YOUR SAGE WISDOME: WHAT IS A "LUMPSQUIRT"? AND REALLY, TAKE YOUR TIME THINKING ABOUT THIS. GOD KNOWS WE'VE GOT MOMENTS A-FUCKING-PLENTY TO SPARE.
TG: as the literal god of time in your local area i sure as hell do
CG: GO ON THEN.
===
TG: …
TG: pass
CG: EXACTLY.
CG: ANYWAYS, I’M STILL GOING TO GO AROUND FEELING ANOTHER LAYER OF PITY FOR THOSE GRAY BULGEMUNCHERS THAT DON’T GET TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU. NOT THAT ANYTHING ANY KARKAT COULD FUCKING DO WOULD EVER MAKE THEM DESERVING OF IT, BUT THAT’S ANOTHER CAN OF DIRT NOODLES ENTIRELY.
TG: yeah i feel bad for anyone who isnt buddy-buddy with the david stri too
CG: OF COURSE YOU DO. I’M GLAD WE’RE ON THE SAME PAGE HERE.
===
TG: but also
TG: any dave who missed out on a slice of the realest homes in paradox space is a tragedy in my eyes
CG: Y--
TG: let me finish
TG: i just dont let it get to me so much cus… first of all ive been having to not let time shit get to me this whole damn game but also
TG: i know i have you here and thats whats important
TG: ok not "have" just
TG: how the fuck do i phrase that
TG: i know whatever is happening with other "us"es whatever shits goin down
TG: i can wake up and watch movies with you or hell i can even hang with you in there if i bump into you and thats what matters to me in this bro-dom thats what i wanna do
TG: and thats some real shit i just said feel free to co-sign it
CG: …
===
TG: karkat i meant it
CG: … THANKS.
TG: no problem
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vaguely-concerned · 8 months
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Random Assortment of Ghibli’s Howl’s Moving Castle Thoughts
Because I rewatched it today for the first time in many years and it’s one of those miraculous works that not only remaine as magical as I remembered it through childhood eyes, but if anything was even more magical as an adult and in more complex ways. I’ve finally got words for at least some of the things I was processing only subconsciously as a kid, so here we go. 
- The sneaky underlying theme of deeply flawed mother figures in this movie. Drives me nuts. The narrative doesn’t go out of its way to condemn these characters, it takes a characteristically phlegmatic nonjudgemental view of them, but it feels like this is low-key a stealth Mommy Issues story. (Making it go 🤝 with Dragon Age 2 in my head lol) Sophie’s mother does not seem to be consciously malicious but is intensely smotheringly self-absorbed and immature to the point where it has clearly been neglectful, and on the other side of the ‘Overly Permissive/Neglectful to Overly Authoritarian/Controlling’ scale of shitty parenting Suliman is controlling and invasive and heedless of boundaries. (Notice that her real complaint about Howl entering the contract with Calcifer and thus losing his heart seems to be that it means she can no longer control him and his grasp on magic, more than actual worry for him as a person. Her presence in his life is largely, ironically, paternalistic. She even frames it as something he blundered into incompetently — phrasing as him having had his heart stolen, rather than the mutual agreement we see Howl and Calcifer make even if they couldn’t know all the consequences it would have.) In the end Sophie breaks the circle by managing to be an engaged and responsive mother figure to Markl and making an actual home with the people closest to her. 
Interestingly Howl at his worst seems to be much more like Sophie’s mother than like Suliman — he leaves Markl to handle things he really shouldn’t have to alone all the time and is noted to barely be home anyway, in the beginning especially he’s flighty and vivacious and evasive (not to mention aggressively blond haha) in some of the same patterns we see her mom exhibit. Since Lettie is quite like their mother in terms of looks and sociability, we might infer that Sophie takes more after their father (including in choice of spouse lol). But crucially when the chips are down Howl is ready to protect Sophie and their home with his life rather than abandon her, in sharp contrast with her mother. I like that the movie doesn’t vilify Sophie’s mom for what she does, as such, it’s a pretty impossible position to be in for anyone… but it is just an extension of what she’s apparently been doing for a long time anyway, privileging other parts of her life and her own comfort over her daughter’s wellbeing and happiness. (Adds a certain spice and heartache to how scared Sophie is that Howl is going to leave them, too. And her fear that it would be because she’s fundamentally not good enough, beautiful enough, clever enough for anyone to choose her and stay with her. Ooof. Girl he’s been looking for you everywhere girl he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing in the world girl it’ll be okay)
- Relatedly: the unspeakably sinister vibes and implications of Suliman’s fucking… army of little Ersatz Howl page boys. When I was younger I sort of bought that he was just being a coward in refusing to go back, but honestly looking at all those kids with smiling empty eyes like painted marbles — you know what maybe it was good he got out of there when he did and in whatever way he could, huh. I don’t feel like there were wonderful things ahead here. Between that and the Witch of the Waste — who must have been much, much older than him when they seem to have sort of had a thing, since he seems to be like… mid-twenties-ish? at the time of the movie — there’s some really uncomfortable subtext going on if you want to read into it that way. I don’t think it’s the only way to read it by any means, but there’s something icky and clandestine sticking to Suliman’s whole deal that makes some form of grooming feel potentially relevant, especially taken along with the shame and fear that seems to cling to Howl around it and the recurring symbolism of him being stuck at a child state beneath it all — he slipped away from Suliman one day but never really grew up. (I’ll readily admit this is some fully Vibes based ramblings on my part, so YMMV on how convincingly you find this present in the text vs. how much is conjecture in my overthinking overheating noggin lmao)
- The fact that the first thing that allows Sophie to heal is to get to be angry — to finally get to say ‘this is all such absolute fucking bullshit *aggressively scrubs all the shit away about it*’. So much of her arc is about reclaiming the full spectrum of her emotions instead of having to make herself small, to prioritize her own inner experience and expressiveness above the need to be acceptable or pleasing to someone else's gaze. It’s not doing quite the same thing as the book in this regard (which if memory serves does more complex work around societal dynamics around gender and sexuality and aging vs. the more internal personal approach the film takes), but what it is doing is very interesting in its own right. The castle being a space (a home!!!) where all the inhabitants can eventually express themselves freely, including Howl dropping the uncannily imperturbable smiling facade to show the sad wet pathetic drama queen beneath (deeply affectionate) and Markl just getting to be a kid running around having fun. And Sophie makes that home for everyone possible by being herself unfiltered for the first time in her life. What the fuck I’m not crying don’t look at me — 
- The little one-room cottage in the fields being the forerunner to the castle… 
- Something so pleasing about the irony that Howl is said to eat hearts when really he seems to have basically had to tear his own heart out and set it on fire to keep it safe. And then after people have tried to get their hands on it to possess it (the Witch) or dictate how he uses it and who he gives it to (Suliman) for the whole movie, Sophie gives it back to him without a thought at the end; it’s more important to her for him to be whole than to own his heart. Hmnngh. (also so funny that the first thing he does upon waking up is plaintively whining about it fhdasj. Yeah having feelings again can take a person like that) 
- Howl’s bad dye job freakout is still very funny and silly, of course, never change you giant drama queen slime the place down, but there’s something about the fact that he’s apparently been dyeing his hair the colour Suliman seems to favor/uses to mark ‘her people’ all this time even when he hasn’t been able to face her, especially since the flashback shows black is his natural hair colour, and how badly it freaks him out to not meet that standard anymore… Huh. Hm.Hah.
(This time I actually wondered to myself if part of the reason he made the deal with Calcifer was to be able to get away from her and the plans she had for his life (and that he clearly would have hated, if their fundamental philosophical disagreement about warfare is any indication!). I think it says some very sad things that his happiest childhood memory is of a secret place where he got to be entirely alone because it was the only place he felt safe. Howl’s Moving Giant Coping Mechanism Metaphor. You see the castle is the Flight response made. Well not flesh. Timber, I guess. The Flight response made timber. In this essay I will etc.)   
- It hurts me that Howl brings Sophie’s old bedroom into the castle. He wanted so badly to make her happy and he seems to assume that because his memory of childhood solitude is a… if not happy then comforting thing to him, it would be for her too. But to her that’s just a reminder of the stagnancy and loneliness and… indignity? of her life before, and makes her feel like he’s treating her like a housekeeper, relegating her to that tiny room all over again, unwanted and ignored. Augh. At least she seems to understand what he meant to do for her when he shows her the meadow, though, and he doesn’t stop trying to communicate it to her even though his gesture didn’t land the way he’d hoped at first. This movie is so quietly kind about people trying to learn how to understand and love each other. Everyone is allowed to stay at the castle in all their imperfections, even the Witch. 
- Something something the Witch curses Sophie with not being able to tell anyone what’s happened to her… and in the end that doesn’t even really matter because the people around her either grow to understand without having to be told by actually paying attention to her (like Howl) or just accept her exactly as she is anyway, age yo-yoing and all, no questions asked (like Markl). And in the same way Sophie immediately recognizes Howl in his monster form and isn’t afraid of him even when he tells her it’s too late. Suliman warning her about ‘what he really is’ and Sophie immediately hugging him in his full monster form because he came home and that’s all that matters to her. Howl thinks her white hair is the most beautiful thing in the world and worth coming back to the world fully for. Sobbing. 
- The implication that part of the reason Calcifer wants out of the contract (other than just being stuck in the hearth of a place slowly falling into depressing disrepair and neglect around him) is that he’s genuinely terrified of what Howl is doing to himself. There’s something kind of sad and very funny about that. What if you went into a deal with a demon and the demon had to keep telling you ‘uh. Uh bro that’s kind of fucked up you know that right. Hey are you listening to me you’re molting monster feathers onto the carpet Sophie is gonna LOSE IT and don’t come crying to me when she does’. I wonder what would have happened to Howl’s heart if he turned completely — it seems that their contract has kept it safe and unchanged in every other way, if frozen in time, so presumably it would just… keep going the same way? (Calcifer telling Sophie that ‘it’s still the heart of a child’ got me so bad this time around. Bawling all over the place haha.) The idea of being stuck burning around a homeless heart forever is — well Calcifer I guess I get where you’re coming from here
- Of interest only to a very few people, I suppose, but the Norwegian dub of this movie fucking rules, I’m glad to find my childhood self was right about that. Calcifer is so cute in it it almost makes me dizzy sometimes, Aksel Hennie went ham on this one. Also an incredibly calming and charming performance for Howl — whenever I hear the English dub I just start laughing b/c like uh okay that’s Batman, takes me right out every time, that is not my lil guy fhsakjd. (I suspect his characterization is a bit different and softer in Norwegian too, just from the differences in translation I’ve seen?) 
- The first time Howl takes Sophie flying he holds her hand through it the entire time and guides her, the second time he takes her flying he lets her steer the flying machine for a while under his supervision before he goes off to make the distraction (there’s something so sweet about it as much as he’s being a little shit about it, honestly, he believes in her in such a quiet undramatic way even as she’s freaking out), and then after walking away from Howl’s childhood memory she walk-flies confidently on her own exactly like he showed her at the beginning. At the end the whole castle flies, with all of them safe and comfortable within it. Thoughts. Feels. Agony.
- There’s something so… weirdly achingly beautiful about the non-linearity of love in this movie. To properly meet each other as themselves here and now, Sophie and Howl have to flicker through polar opposite ends of life where they’re both stuck: old age and calcified (ahaha) childhood, resigned depression and overwhelmed fear. The promise Sophie makes at the end that is the beginning for Howl and probably kept him going in the meantime — love and a feeling of home that echoes even through the part of your life when it wasn’t there yet, love as hope. He finds her in the future, she finds him in the past, their hearts call to each other across time and space and they both work so hard to be able to actually meet in the now. The castle is kind of a wheezing overwrought monstrosity, the result of having to keep your heart outside of yourself and be constantly running from everything… but how can you begrudge it for it, when it works so doggedly to keep you and all you love safe while you look for that home? (To me Calcifer is basically a metaphor for dissociation, for what it’s worth, and he always has been)
TL;DR One of my fave movies of all times and touches me to the soul, I can't help but be distressingly earnest about it
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kristas-hellstash · 8 months
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I think I have made my final decision in regards to HB. I won’t abandon the show entirely, BUT, I will be focusing on fan content from now on.
You know you have a bad show when the fan works are better than the actual show.
Yeah, I’ve failed to mention - it’s not just the creator who is everything wrong with the show. It’s the writing. But because she’s IN CHARGE of the writing, well, that’s why it sucks. The show would’ve been better if she wasn’t involved at all. It could have been in the hands of people who aren’t morally bankrupt. It could be in the hands of better writers who could take her initial ideas and make a better story out of it. But none of that will happen. And it’s because of her. It’s because of her the show sucks. 😭 Beautiful art cannot save bad writing.
This isn’t the only show to have this problem, either - Miraculous Ladybug and the once-good Star Vs are two other examples. Not because the creators are human scum, mind you, but because the writing was bad.
Granted, HB isn’t Velma levels of terrible, either, and I doubt Hazbin will be, but…should we REALLY watch Hazbin this Friday? I don’t think we should…and the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve decided to just read what paid critics have to say. I doubt it’s gonna be good. It’ll be a “hit” in terms of views but with scathing reviews, like a blockbuster movie that’s terrible. The art and animation are the only good things about it - and, well, the music will slap too because at least Vile Viv isn’t in charge of THAT.
There’s a reason views have declined for HB, and it’s for two reasons: more and more fans realize how morally bankrupt Viv is, and former fans got sick of the shitty writing. The third is a combination of both.
I’ve known the writing wasn’t solid for…more than a year now. But I kept watching with the hope that it’d get better. Then I began to feel ashamed for liking this show as it became increasingly apparent that it’s not cool to like it anymore especially as it’s become known fact that Vile Viv is a monster. As its unpopularity increases and fans stop becoming fans, I felt frustrated and ashamed. I tried separating art from artist for years with this show, but nobody else seemed to be capable of doing it, and since both art AND artist are bad in this case, well…it’s time to let go.
Then I realized that fanfic has better writing than the show, and fans have better ideas…so fanworks are my loophole. Hate the canon? There’s fanworks out there that repair everything. Even I’ve got my own ideas for how I personally would have written Unhappy Campers.
I will not credit Vile Viv for any inspiration behind the way I draw some of my characters…tbh I think Kendraws is more responsible for that anyway, given how they re-designed Cherri Bomb. The art style of Viv’s cartoons are beautiful. I wish she was a better person who listened to criticism and knew how to actually write. I wished she’d get fired from her own shows so that they could continue in better hands.
But what we need right now is her blacklisting from the animation industry entirely.
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worldsbiggestnerd101 · 7 months
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i will forever be grateful that the mascot horror of my choosing - welcome home - is not a video game or even a show, but is, in fact, an interactive website with many secret elements that hide the horror. look what happened to fnaf, to tadc, hell, even poppy playtime now that chapter 3 isn’t complete and utter sludge. like, can you imagine how much worse the welcome home fandom would be if we also had over saturated content farms to deal with?
i was into tadc for a week or two (hyperfixation go brrrrr) and part of the reason i lost interest was because of the fucking content farms. tadc isn’t just an indie animated show with horror elements now, it’s something content farms milk to hell and back! i’ve found my little siblings watching shitty tadc content farm videos! can you imagine what would’ve happened if welcome home was executed in any other format other than its current website? the characters are perfect in terms of color and designs for content farm exploitation. it would’ve absolutely wrecked welcome home as a whole and it would’ve never taken off in the way it did if it’d been in a game or show or anything other than its website.
i keep going back to tadc but it’s just the perfect example of content-farm-ification. tadc lost relevance after, what, a month? sure, it’ll likely skyrocket back up into tumblr’s trending whenever episode 2 drops, but compare tadc’s 40k tag followers to welcome home’s ever climbing 1.2 million tag followers. the welcome home tag absolutely just blew up and kept blowing up after its initial rise to fame in march 2023, but tadc’s tag is still similar in followers to the number it had back in october. i blame it on the fucking content farms. sure, tadc has millions of views of youtube, but how relevant is it really?
sure, the welcome home fandom is generally regarded as shitty thanks to all the fucking idiots who couldn’t listen to clown’s guidelines on nsfw content for the few months before they created a tag for that specifically and because of all the weird as fuck aus people have created, but at least we’re not that. at least we don’t have content farms like fucking lankybox completely sucking the enjoyment out of our media of choice and over saturating the search results we get when looking up the names of our hyperfixes.
i cannot stress enough how grateful i am that welcome home’s main way of being interacted with is its website. lankybox and all other content farms can’t milk that. what small child would want to watch them aimlessly click around the website and try to find all the secrets? how is that marketable? how can you make putting in letter combinations into the url and clicking on everything pops up something to scream at your camera about? answer: you can’t. that’s what’s so great about it. there is almost no possible way anyone under age, what, ten? would want to watch someone interact with the website and uncover its lore which makes it practically useless to every single content farm out there.
so, yeah. once again, thank you clown for making your funny little puppet show horror project a silly website with its own secrets and codes rather than a video game. thank you for executing mascot horror in such a great way that content farms have simply not found a way to milk it in the almost year since its initial explosion in popularity. don’t forget to wave up high!
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beeblackburn · 1 year
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Top 5 media with trans rep/themes?
Thank you, @xserpx!
Truth be told, this question is actually trickier than you think, because I haven’t read/watched that much medias with explicitly trans rep/themes, I own a lot, but haven’t read them quite yet, and the better stuff I’ve read is sequestered in my writing server via snippets and tidbits from others... or indie/self-published publications and patreons... and, uh, not to oversell my stuff, but my own writing KOFF KOFF.
To be clear, I do have enough to give a list, but given what I’ve heard of Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin (can you believe I bought that damn book six times?) and Tell Me I’m Worthless by Alison Rumfitt, this list is liable to change after checking out at least the former.
But without further ado...
Cheer Up! Love and Pompoms by Crystal Frasier and Val Wise - Look, I promise I love pain and violence and self-loathing and feeling like your skin’s a stranger to you, but this was done by a trans writer and artist team and it damn shows. As a whole, it really sings in how the trans experience feels like acceptance in your support network is conditional on how well you act. How well you don’t rock the boat, how well you perform to your preferred gender, and how unstable and insecure you can still be, despite all that and more. It doesn’t wallow in those thorns too long, but in terms of trans rep and theme? It’s my favorite, and it doesn’t hurt that I love the art. 
Tangerine, directed by Sean Baker - If the above was the more optimistic take of trans childhood, this is the poignant, if still playful, reality behind a decent chunk of adult trans womanhood, done with a cheap budget, but with verisimilitude intended. It doesn’t pull punches on how shitty trans sex workers are treated, how they’re objectified and abused, but it still allows them agency and personhood in how they go about the tangle of their professions and personal lives. And, more importantly, it doesn’t pull punches of how fellow trans people can hurt each other through their flaws and bad choices... but doesn’t surrender that they can still offer solidarity when the going gets really tough from systemic transphobia.
A Grisly Communion by N.J. Barna - If the first above was trans experience as childhood joy and love, the second was grounded street-walking reality, this is transcendental body horror. It’s a story that understands following our commonplace religious institutions can give you some degree of safety... but it can’t give you peace of mind, nor body. That the (fat) trans experience is conditional on being useful, on not taking up so much space for threadbare tolerance, and it’ll never be enough, given that fatness intersects upon the transness of it all. So, when unusual idols of worship are offered... we take them, because they, at least, would pay respect to our bodies and grant us the power to be on the other side of being meat from judging eyes.
Boys Run the Riot by Keito Gaku - I really wish this wasn’t cancelled before its time. This manga deserves at least a year’s worth of chapters, being an unconventional look into high school adolescence through a trans man’s pen, and a trans boy’s eyes as he navigates through being closeted in Japanese school culture and masculinity, his love life, and especially his daily choices of fashion, and how he eventually tries to gain more friends and allies through opening himself up... with plenty of teeth in how trans privacy must be respected for their safety, and how influencer culture intersects with gender performance and the need for online cache, with no easy answers there.
Realm of the Elderlings - What Hobb lacks a bit in the full understanding of transgression in the trans experience or culture as a whole, she makes up for in allowing a messiness in individual characterization and having one of the best gender nonconforming characters in all of fantasy. I’m not as crazy about the Fool as some fans, but he’s eminently quotable, layered, complex and messy as hell, and when he talks about love and yearning, such concept of malleable bodies, and how he transgresses cultures with utter confidence in his presentation, it’s enough to make one’s heart swell and ache at how there are not more characters like him in fantasy, for when he speaks of such experiences, it feels like he touches a part of you that transcends the physical.
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tntky · 2 years
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At the end of the day, we are only universe dust.
Yo ! 
It’s been a while, I know. And it is probably due to the fact that I am on my period and therefore my monthly mental breakdown guided by the masochism of this patriarchal society is scheduled for right now! Oh, oh, someone is one getting worse over the years...
Hi everyone from the little imaginary world inside my head, hello to the hidden camera audience watching my illusory daily life! What’s new? Well, we survived so far. Tomorrow, I have a shitty exam that I have as a resit and it’s  driving me crazy because I’m already picturing the stupidly simple questions that requires logical answers with some technical terms that I could have handled perfectly last year if I didn’t miss the whole point of it back then due to lack of focus.
My unhealthy state of mind  is still relevant to last year though, it is just that there are days when it gets the best of me and others when it is manageable. This feeling of seeing yourself from other's point of view like you’re just a failure to society is horrible. The glue stick, the nobody. And when you try to get your shit back together, you try to regain control of how you manage to spend your time, how to get better at expressing your emotions etc. That’s usually when the worst thing finds a way to come back into your life. Begging you to go through the unhealed trauma all other again.
This feels like you’re literally pealing yourself like a banana, except you’re tearing off your borderline skin, to get back on the right track. I need to learn to fix my fucking boundaries. I am so fucking tired of not being independent of my own self. Anyway, for now we will still have to hold on for a few more months in order to finish our damn exams... and then we will at least be free to no longer work in this same shitty society and stick to those awful school routines that are boring.
I have to learn to listen to myself, I have to learn to listen to my  body, to do what makes me happy, even if it means to be ridiculous to others. I need to take back the control of my emotions, to release my  thinking brain stuck in driving mode. I am not a machine, I am a human being with emotions, and I must not let things that could possibly harm me happen. I have to take care of little me and picture her with a smile on her lips and her four teeth who is still full of joy and innocence and ask myself, what would she think of you? And what about of all the dreams she had. There is nothing stupid about having ambitions such as just going for a run alone, being able to take the car and go for a ride, sit down in public and eat something near a waterfront while listening to music - without having sweating hands or shaking my whole body. I am not going to get stuck on the same speeches year after year, come on.
We are getting started. We’re going it, now. Whatever scares us, it’ll do and, we will do it when we decide to do it, you know, for it's useless to force yourself on days where you feel really low. But believe in you as your own safe place. You don’t need others to encourage you or  give you the strength, to tell you it's going to be fine or that what you do is okay. Fuck that, you know your worth and if you want something, and your body feels right about it, then do it. At the end of the day, we are only universe dust.
You are not in competition with anyone but yourself. SO, TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND ACTION. 
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vaspider · 3 years
Note
I'm getting married Saturday! Any words of wisdom to impart for someone starting that new chapter (if you're comfortable with it)? Thanks for being a parent figure to so many of us on here. Goodness knows lots of us need someone like that.
In any case, Shana Tovah, and many blessings to you and yours!
💙
First of all, mazel tov! So much joy and happiness to you both. 💓
I had to think about this for a bit. @dadhoc and I have been together for 17 years and married for 12, and we've been with @apocalycious for 2.5 years, so I think we're doing something right. In no particular order:
Know when you need to be Right and when you'd rather be Happy. If your spouse wants to build a house with a Jell-O foundation, keep arguing/discussing/etc. bc you need to be right - it could hurt you both if you don't! If you're arguing over which one of you said what when you clearly had an unfortunate misunderstanding and accidentally hurt each other's feelings... wouldn't you rather be happy than right? Take a deep breath, apologize for your part in the misunderstanding, and figure out how to not have it happen again.
Don't let the sun go down on your anger. Don't go to bed angry with each other or actively arguing. That kind of stuff calcifies.
Figure out how the other person expresses love and says they're sorry, and honor that. Communicate how you need to be loved and apologized to. @dadhoc doesn't always say "I love you" out loud, but they make the leftover challah into French toast on the weekend, and they work really hard on NerdyKeppie stuff. I write poems and make art for people and get silly little presents, like an enamel pin with a red panda or a penguin on it for my boos. If you mention something you might like to do someday offhandedly, or a question you wonder about, Evie will remember that and research it for you! Steve also often doesn't say "I'm sorry" out loud - they will go wash the bedding and clean the bedroom so we can all spend time watching TV and snuggling together when the argument is resolved... but I need to hear "I'm sorry" out loud. So I acknowledge and appreciate the things they did, and they say the words out loud.
Respond to what your partners say, not to your baggage or to what you expect them to say. This becomes more of a Thing the longer you're together: you have so many conversations and talks and arguments that you fall into a comfortable groove with each other. That's great! But. Make sure when they're talking that you're not responding to something your dad said that hurt you 20 years ago, or to your ex who was hypercritical of you, or to who your partner USED to be, 6 years and a bunch of discussions ago.
Celebrate each other's successes, even the little ones. Get ice cream together when you finish a project at work. Take each other out for self-care time. You're together because you're each other's biggest fans, after all, but also...
You don't have to be each other's everything. I'm fact, you shouldn't. Make time for yourself. Spend time with your friends. Cultivate your friends, not just our friends. (Evie is friends with people I can't stand, and I'm happy they get along!) Have your Own Things that you do and are.
Spoil each other just a little. If you won't do it, who will?
Laugh with each other but never at each other. Human beings are ridiculous!
Go to therapy. It's preventative maintenance for your brain.
Find something you enjoy doing together that has a finished product at the end. Build a model, bake a cake. Evie and I really like cooking together. Even cleaning is nice if I'm doing it with my partners.
Don't stop going on dates, even if a date means eating dinner outside instead of in your kitchen.
Speaking of which: try to make Family Dinner a thing. Sit at an actual table presuming you have one, trade off making food, put your phone somewhere else while you're eating, and talk to each other without distraction for at least that long every day. I know I sound like a mom in a Pixar movie, but I'm serious, this works! When I was sick, we stopped having a dining room table really bc of how our house got rearranged, and we didn't eat together at a table for years. Now our Family Dinnertime is sacrosanct. Even if we're all eating leftovers, we eat at the table right around the same time every day. It makes a difference in our ability to connect with each other. Eating together is an important human bonding activity.
You're going to change. So is your spouse. That's not just okay - that's great! Life means growth. I'm not who I was in 2004, thank G-d, and neither is Steve. I'm not who I was in 2019, for that matter. That change and growth is who you're becoming together, so honor and celebrate that. You can't grow old together if you don't grow old, after all.
If you're so inclined generally speaking, never stop looking at your sexy-ass spouse with the same wide-eyed delight you do now. Just... enjoy it when they're getting changed in the room with you. If I ever stop saying "... butt... " dreamily when one of my partners is changing, or informing one that they're missing out on seeing the other's butt, just bury me, I'm dead. Appreciate them out loud. They're cute!
Smooch daily.
Take care of yourself. You can't be a good spouse if you're not eating food food, getting enough sleep, etc.
Even in the shitty parts, which will happen, remind yourself that you've got backup. From now on, you've always got backup, and it's much easier to go through crises with your biggest fan by your side. It'll be a great story on the other side, right? I'll forever tell the one about how when Steve was in the hospital for afib, and the docs had to knock Steve out to shock their heart into behaving, they woke up and started immediately asking "where's my [husbutch]?" They got so insistent about it - still loopy on the anesthesia - that the nurse came to get me. I called from the doorway and Steve calmed down... for 5 seconds, and then their short-term memory cycled, and they started asking for me again. This happened half a dozen times until I asked "do you want me to just ... squeeze in?" bc Steve's insistence was slowing the doctors down, the docs said yes, so I worked my way up to the head of their hospital bed and said "here I am, please calm down so the doctors can work." Steve said, "oh! My [husbutch]. Hello, [husbutch]!" and took my hand and calmed down. It was a TERRIBLE day but I LOVE that story in retrospect.
Smooch lots.
Mazel tov! Love each other. Building a marriage is work, but anything worth building takes effort. It sounds cheesy but it's so true. 💗
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justkending · 4 years
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The Number One Rule. Chapter 18.
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Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)
Word Count: 3100+
Chapter Eighteen:
“Good morning, Sunshine,” Steve chuckled, bringing his mug to his lips as his sister walked in with a sleep ridden face. She gave him the silent bird before moving to the coffee pot. “I see your morning self hasn’t changed.”
“What are you still doing here? I thought you would have left for work by now?” Y/N asked with a tired voice as she walked to the fridge for creamer. 
He had ended up staying the night and sleeping in his old room that had been transferred into the guest bed. Him and his sister had been up late talking and catching up. 
“Eh, I’m going in a few hours later since I’ve been doing overtime recently,” Steve shrugged, leaning back and watching her sit across from him. She was wearing a giant T-shirt and some old pajama pants that she tiredly tried to straighten from their disheveled state. “What’s your excuse for not being ready for work?”
“I don’t have to be there until 9 today,” she answered with her eyes closed. 
There was a comfortable silence as the two sipped on their coffee and Steve read the newspaper. Looking over he saw her practically falling back asleep in her seat. 
“I guess I need to talk to Bucky soon…” He spoke up. Her eyes opened at that and she turned to him. 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean now that I know the case, and now that I know you’re both happy, I don’t have a right to be a jackass anymore I guess,” he shrugged with a smirk. 
“I’m glad you came to terms that you were a jackass,” she chuckled, punching his arm playfully. “We’ve been waiting a few years on that one.”
“Hey, I can call myself a jackass, but you watch yourself,” he warned in a light manner. 
“Sure thing… Jackass,” she mumbled with a smile. Before he could start an argument, she diverted the conversation. “So, should I warn him, or-?”
“I don’t care. We have different shifts today, so I’ll see him tonight probably and talk to him.”
“Ok, then I’ll let you do the talking. I would warn him yourself though. He’s been a nervous wreck around this topic with you. Anytime he thinks about how we’ve hurt you, he gets upset and really anxious,” she explained more seriously. 
“I mean, I don’t blame him. This was a shitty kind of situation to go through, but mom was right. Neither side of the problem was handled well,” Steve sighed. “I’ll text him before.”
“Good,” Y/N nodded. “Want me to come?”
“No, I think we need to talk ourselves,” Steve sighed. “If you know what I mean.”
“I get it,” she nodded standing and grabbing her mug. “Well, I’m going to get ready for work. Mind if I come over tonight though? You know, when the coast is clear? Maybe we can all have a movie night like back in the day! Becca and Sam are invited too,” she pointed to him. 
“Sounds like a plan. You’re paying for pizza though. Since you have an adult job now, it’s only fair,” Steve said with raised eyebrows. 
“Hey, I-”
“You owe me,” he cut her off. 
She glared at him for using the given past situation as a way to get free food. 
“That’s low, big bro,” she deadpanned. 
“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same thing,” he scoffed with a smile, going back to the paper in front of him. 
“Touche,” she nodded with a pursed lip. “At least text me when I can head over, so I don’t interrupt you guys' bromance session.”
“Shut up,” he groaned as she left the room. 
________
Once Y/N got to work, a few hours into her shift, she got a call from Bucky.
“Hey, B,” she smiled through the phone as she went through the loads of papers in her hands. 
“Hey sweetheart,” Bucky replied just as sweetly. “Guess who texted me today?”
“Hmm, Barack Obama?” Y/N responded. “Wait, no! Michelle Obama.”
“Haha, very close, but no,” he chuckled. “You’re brother reached out.”
“Is that so?” Y/N faked surprise.
“I’m guessing you guys' conversation last night went well considering your chipper mood?” he questioned. “Or they went horribly wrong and you’re just a really good actress.”
“We all know I can’t act even if my life depended on it,” she laughed, changing the phone to her other ear as she wrote some notes on a paper. 
“It’s true. You’re a horrible liar,” Bucky confirmed.
“I’m not even going to argue it no matter how much I want to,” she shrugged. “But I would say things went well. I mean we may or may not have gotten into a wrestling match on the front lawn, and mom might as well have dragged us by the ears inside to have a civil conversation, but besides that…”
“Oh God, Y/N… What the hell happened?” 
She just knew he was pitching the bridge of his nose on the other end. 
“Nothing too crazy. It’s just sibling fighting,” she waved off. 
“At least tell me you gave him a chance. You didn’t beat his ass too much, hopefully. You know we’re trying to win him over, not push him further away, right?” Bucky had a smile in his voice, clearly just joking around. 
“You know? Kids’ gotten stronger since middle school,” she noted. 
“I would hope so. He fought in a war and chases bad guys for a living. Can’t have scrawny middle school Steve doing that kind of stuff. He’d get a nose bleed just looking at the wrong guy.”
The two laughed for a little reminiscing at little Steve before he bulked up in high school. But after some joking, Bucky brought the conversation back where he started. 
“But in all honesty, I shouldn’t be too worried about tonight?” he asked. The nerves in his voice were clear to Y/N. 
“No, Bumble Bee. We talked it out, screamed it out, and fought it out. And in doing so, we had a good conversation. Thank Sarah Rogers for keeping us on track and not letting us walk away until it was resolved,” she assured, putting his mind at rest. 
“Ok, good…” Bucky sighed on the other end. A moment of silence went by as if he was trying to process it. 
“Hey, I know you guys still need to talk, but I do want you to know that it’ll be all ok in the end. Don’t get too worked up about it,” Y/N said softly. “26 years of being best pals can’t be ruined by this little bump. You said it yourself.”
Bucky let out a breath and nodded. “You’re right. It… It’s just, I hate that he found out how he did, and…” he paused. “It just kinda sucked seeing him that upset.”
“I get it,” Y/N nodded on her end. “But hey,” she added. “We’ll all be ok. Truly.”
“I trust you, doll,” he grinned. There was some distant talking on the phone and Bucky humming. “Hey, I have to go. Boss needs me for something. Call you later?” 
“For sure. Have a good day, and let me know if you need anything!” 
“Right back at you. Love you, sweetheart,” he slipped out the last part unconsciously. 
There was a moment of silence as the two were stunned. Neither had said the “L” word yet… At least not to each other…
“Uh,” Bucky stuttered out. “I-I-...”
“Buck-,” Y/N started in just as much shock. 
Another round of someone shouting on the other line that wasn’t Bucky came through through the phone. 
“I have to go! Talk to you later,” Bucky shouted into the phone. 
Before she could say anything else, the line ended and she slowly pulled back the phone seeing her lock screen blank. No words came out after that. 
She just stared at the screen where a picture of her Bucky, Becca, and Steve all were embedded in a bear hug together. An old picture, but one that she always loved and cherished with a group of her favorite humans. 
She also loved it because even though it was before Bucky and her had become an item, they were squished against each other. Bucky was smiling wide and caught in a laugh as he looked down at her, catching her from stumbling to the ground, and she was laughing as she gripped his arm to find her balance. Steve and Becca laughing on the side at her clumsy self, and the fact someone was always having to help her stay on two feet. Bucky having always been one of those top people in her life. 
She smiled down at the memory and couldn’t help but feel those little flutters move from her stomach to her chest and eventually make her cheeks heat up. 
_________________
Now he had two things to freak out about. One being Steve and his talk tonight. Yes, he knew he didn’t really need to after Y/N’s reassurance that things would be fine, but still. It was a strange conversation to have with your best friend. 
“Sorry I fell in love with your sister and hid it from you. My best friend of over a quarter of a decade. Not to mention you found out from me coming out of her room half naked after you thought she was home alone...” 
Yeah, that was going to be weird no matter how ok they were now… 
Then you add in, he just casually told Y/N that he loved her before hanging up the phone. He didn’t mean to. It just felt so natural in the moment! 
He wanted to make the first time he said it special, not just by accident…
God, his heart was racing and now he had four hours left of his work day to let those things just stir around in his head. Great. Maybe that 3rd cup of coffee wasn’t that great of an idea.
_______________
“So, everything’s good with you guys?” Sam asked after Steve let him in on everything.
“Yeah. I mean Buck and I still need to talk it out, but… I don’t know. I can’t be mad if they’re both happy at the end of the day. Happiest I’ve seen either of them in a while, if I’m being honest,” Steve shrugged with a small smile. 
“See, I knew that’d be the case at the end of the day. I tried telling Bucky that,” Sam shook his head as he finished up the dishes. “And sorry man about not saying anything. I didn’t think it was my place to,” he apologized. 
“No, I get it. This was their own thing. You were just being a good friend to Bucky and letting him figure this out himself,” Steve waved. 
“He’ll be home in a little. You worried?” Sam asked, washing his hands off. 
“No, if anyone’s nervous it’ll be Bucky. Y/N and I had a really good talk last night. No matter how upset I was before, I now know where they were coming from,” Steve sighed. “Did I agree with it? No, but we all have different ways we would go about things.”
“True facts,” Sam smiled. “Well, I’ll hoard myself in my room for a while until the coast is clear. Let me know if you guys need anything, ok?” 
“Got it. Oh, and Y/N said she was going to come over after with pizza for a movie night, if you want to join,” Steve pointed out moving to the couch. 
“I’m here for it,” Sam nodded, going down the hall to his room. “Call me when all is resolved.”
Steve nodded and plopped down on the couch skimming through the channels as he waited for Bucky. About 15 minutes later, he heard the lock turn and quietly the brunette made his way in with caution. 
“Hey,” Steve said softly, turning from the end of the couch. 
“Hey,” Bucky said with a soft smile as he put his things by the door. 
These were the first words they had spoken in over 2 weeks. They hadn’t talked since the whole fight in the backyard.
“How was work?” Steve asked, making small talk. 
“Nothing too crazy today,” Bucky shrugged, walking to the back of the couch with his hands in his pockets. “Oh, Lillian asked about you again.” 
“From accounting?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Only Lillian I know that’s obsessed with you,” Bucky laughed lightly. 
“God, I’m not ready for that…” Steve returned the chuckle. 
It got quiet after that. Not awkward, but not comfortable either. 
“So…” 
“Listen, Bucky,” Steve sitting back in his chair running a hand across his face. “I’m sorry, I punched you after-”
“Don’t be. I deserved it,” Bucky waved him off, coming around the couch slowly to sit on the opposite end. 
“Ok, yeah. You’re right,” Steve nodded with another small laugh. Again another pregnant pause. “I gotta know. Why didn’t you just tell me, Buck?”
He took in a deep breath before answering. “I’m sure Y/N told you, but we didn’t want things to have a bad falling out and it be awkward for everyone else-.”
“No, not that. Why didn’t you tell me that you weren’t going to do it from the start?” Steve interrupted.
“What?” he asked, confused.
“Y/N said that you guys went back and forth on not going through with this because you didn’t want to hurt me. I mean, maybe that’s not that big of a deal, but it changes things on my end some,” Steve explained. Bucky just sent him a blank stare. “What I mean is, when I first figured everything out, I was hurt because I thought you didn’t even consider me in your decisions. I know, it sounds selfish, but-”
“No, it doesn’t. You’re a part of the equation to some extent. Just like Becca is. But surprisingly Becca was excited and not freaked out about her best friend dating her big brother. It’s a little different being the big brother in the situation though,” he said softly. “It’s not selfish though Steve. If the roles were reversed and say you and Becca dated, I would hope you considered my feelings in the matter too.”
Steve was glad that he understood what he was getting at. He was worried it wouldn’t make sense or make him look like he thought the whole thing revolved around him. 
“Yeah…” Steve paused. “But you didn’t say anything about that when we did get in that fight. Why?”
“I don’t know… I guess I just wanted you to understand my feelings for her more than anything. I needed you to know that she wasn’t just some girl I was hoping to hook up with at some point.”
“I know you would never do that Buck. No matter how upset I was, I still don’t think that low of you,” Steve sighed. “And about that… I’m sorry I said you don’t deserve her… That was an extremely hard hit to the gut.”
“You were looking out for her,” Bucky said with pursed lips, but the pain from the past comment was clear. It didn’t feel good having your best friend who's been through thick and thin with you tell you weren’t worth something. 
“Yes, but that was a low blow and I said it out of hurt feelings. I was hurt, so I wanted you to be just as hurt. That wasn’t fair,” Steve concluded. “If there is anyone in this world that I trust to take care of Y/N just as much as me, it’s you Buck. I was just blinded by anger.”
“Understandably,” Bucky nodded, looking back at his friend a little less troubled. 
“Understandably,” Steve agreed. They stared at each other silently communicating. “I’m sorry.”
“If anyone is sorry, it’s me Steve,” Bucky shook his head running a hand down his thigh still slightly anxious. 
“How about we both agree that we didn’t handle this situation the best way,” Steve smiled. “I should have seen how happy you two were and not second guess how it happened. I shouldn’t have made it about me when you both clearly are what the other needs.”
“Steve-”
“Truly. You guys have been glowing the last two months with complete and utter happiness and I was so oblivious to pick up on it. I feel like a shitty brother and best friend.”
“You’re not a shitty brother or best friend. Not in the least,” Bucky said scooting to the edge of the couch. “You know that.”
“Y/N tell you we got in a fight on the lawn yesterday?” Steve asked with a small smirk. 
Bucky chuckled. “Yes. Said your mom about beat your asses out there too.”
“All because I was too stubborn to talk it out,” Steve shook his head while he threw it back on the back of the couch. 
“Eh, you said it yourself. We all didn’t handle this situation well,” Bucky chuckled. “She kicked your ass, didn’t she?” he said after a second. 
“Wouldn’t say that, but she must have worked out over seas because I couldn’t pin her like I used to. She was giving me a pretty decent fight,” Steve laughed loudly. 
“God, I would pay money to have someone get that on tape,” Bucky laughed with him. 
The two soaking up the now comfortable atmosphere. 
“So we’re ok, right?” Steve asked. “Leave all out petty, stubborn, and stupid mistakes in the past?”
“I’m fine with that if you are,” Bucky nodded. 
“Good. I’ve missed having my best friend around. I was getting tired of ignoring you,” Steve sighed, patting Bucky’s back. 
“You gave me good practice with your stubbornness for Y/N. Not that I haven’t been practicing with you both my whole life, but damn you guys are too bull-headed monsters.”
“We feed off each other's energy,” Steve shrugged with a smirk. 
“I know, it’s exhausting, yet entertaining all at the same time,” Bucky smiled as he moved his head side to side. 
A knock sounded at the door and they both turned toward the wooden panel. 
“Speaking of the devil,” Steve smiled standing up.
Bucky froze. 
Shit. One anxiety had been cured now, but he had almost forgotten about his second one...
(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)
I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.
The Number One Rule (TNOR) Taglist:
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davidmann95 · 3 years
Note
Sooo… Superman and the Authority?
magnus-king123 asked: Your thoughts on Superman & the authority Give it to me...lol
Anonymous asked: Seeing Bezos take his little trip into space the same day Morrison puts out a Superman comic that touches on how far we’ve fallen from the days when we dreamed of utopian futures where everyone explored the stars was a big gut punch. Not used to Superman being topical in that way.
Anonymous asked: What'd you think of Superman and the Authority#1?
This is far beyond what I can fit in the normal weekly reviews, so taking this as my notes on the first six pages, with this and this as my major lead-in thoughts:
* Janin's such a perfect fit for Morrison - the scale, the power, the facial expressions selling the character work, the screwing around with the panel formatting as necessary to sell the effect, the numinous sense of things going on larger than you can fully perceive amidst the beauty and chaos. It's a shame he wasn't around 25 years ago to draw JLA, but I'll take him going with Morrison onto other future projects.
* His intro action sequence is such a great demonstration of why Black actually does have something to offer, and also how he's such a dumbass desperately needing Superman to save him from himself.
* While Jordie Bellaire didn't legit go with an entirely monochromatic palate the way early previews suggested, it's still an effect frequently and excellently deployed here. And glad to see Steve Wands carry into this from Blackstars since there's such an obvious carryover from its work with Superman.
* "Gentlemen. Ladies. Others." Great both because of the obvious - hey, Superman's nodding at me! - and because it's a phrasing that reinforces that this take on him (and let's be real Morrison) is old as hell.
* I'm mostly past caring about whether this is an alt-Earth Superman until it becomes indisputable one way or another, this and Action both rule so what does it really matter? But while there are still a couple signs in play suggesting some kind of division (the Action Comics #1036 cover, Midnighter up to time-travel shenanigans) the "lost in time" quote clearly thrown in after the fact to explain how he could have met Kennedy outside of 5G that wouldn't be necessary for an Elseworlds, the assorted gestures towards Superman's current status quo, the Kingdom Come symbol appearing in Action, and that Morrison would have had to completely rewrite the ending if this wasn't supposed to be 'the' version of Clark Kent going forward as was the intent when they first planned it all say to me that no, no fooling around, this is our guy going forward one way or another.
* Janin and Bellaire making the first version of the crystal Fortress ever that actually looks as cool as you want it to.
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Anonymous asked: I like that Superman and The Authority is basically the anti-All-Star; instead of the laid back, immortal Superman who is supercharged, we have a stressed, ageing Superman whose tremendous powers are fading. The former will always be there to save us, but the latter is running out of time and needs to pull off a Hail Mary. Also, he mentions in his monologue to Black that he was "lost in time" when he met JFK, so maybe he is the main continuity Clark. Or he's the t-shirt Supes from Sideways.
* You're absolutely right - the power reversal is obvious and the ticking clock in play seemingly isn't for his own survival but everyone around him as he wakes up and realizes all the old icons grew complacent with the gains they'd made and he's not leaving behind the world he meant to. Both, however, are built on the idea of preparing the world to not need them anymore - it'll still have a Superman in his son, but that'll only work because of the others he empowers and inspires. The question is what happens to Clark if he's not going to live in the sun for 83000 years.
* Clark's 'exercise' here does more to sell me on the idea of Old Man Superman as a cool idea than however many decades of Earth 2 stuff.
* Intergang being noted alongside Darkseid and Doomsday speaks to how much Kirby informed Morrison's conception of Superman.
* This isn't exactly the most progressive in its disability politics but at least it makes clear Black's being a piece of shit about it.
* It's startling how much Clark can get away with saying stuff in here you'd never expect to come out of Superman's mouth. "I made an executive decision" "Privacy, really...?" "You have nowhere to go, Black. Nothing to live for." "There are few people in my life who I instinctively and viscerally dislike, and you've always been one of them." It only works because there's zero aggression behind it, he's just past the point of niceties and being totally frank while making clear none of these assessments preclude that he cares and is going to unconditionally do the right thing every time. He is absolutely, per Morrison, humanity's dad picking us up when we're too drunk to drive ourselves home.
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* The story doesn't put a big flashing light over it, but it's not even a little bit subtle having the material threat of the issue be a ticking timebomb left by the carelessness and hubris of generations past.
* Manchester keeps trying to poke the bear and prove his hot takes about Superman and it's just not working. The front he put up under Kelley is gone after decades of defeats, and as Morrison understands what actually conceptually works about him as a rival to Superman underneath the aging nerd paranoia he's exposed as what he absolutely would be in 2021: a dude with a horrific terminal case of Twitter brainworms. I was PANICKED when I heard there was an 'offensive term' joke in this, I was braced for Morrison at their well-meaning worst, but it's such a goddamn perfect encapsulation of a very specific breed of Twitter leftist who uses their politics first and foremost as a cudgel and justification to label their abrasive, judgmental shittiness as self-righteousness (plus it's a killer payoff to a joke from way back in his original appearance). Cannot believe they pulled that off when they're so very, very open about basically not knowing how the internet works.
* @charlottefinn: Manchester Black using his telekinetic powers to force someone he hates to fave a problematic tweet so that he can screenshot it and start a dogpile
@intergalactic-zoo: “Once they cancel Bibbo, Superman won’t be *anyone’s* fav’rit anymore!”
* Friend noted this issue had to be fully the conversation because the whole premise stands on the house of cards of these two somehow working together, and with three 'silent' inset panels the creative team pulls off that turning point.
* So much of this feels on the surface like Morrison bringing back the All-Star vibes with Clark, but when he drops a "That's all you got?" in a brawl you realize what's underlining that bluntness and confidence in the face of failure is that deep down this is still the Action guy too. This dude ain't gonna get wrecked in his Fortress while the other guy chuckles about him being A SOFT WEE SCIENTIST'S SON!
* Bringing up Jor-El made me realize that Morrison already spelled out that this is the final threat to Superman, what he faces at the end of the road:
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"Now it's your turn, Superman."
* A l'il Superman 2000/All-Star reference with the Phantom Zone map!
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* There's so much intertextuality going on here even by Morrison standards - Change or Die with the old hero putting together a team of morally nebulous folks out to 'fix' everything, Flex Mentallo with the muscleman trying to redeem the punk, Doomsday Clock with the fate of the world hinging on whether Superman can get through to a meta stand-in for an idea of 'modern' comics cynicism, DKR and New Frontier and Kingdom Come and Multiversity and Seven Soldiers and What's So Funny and All-Star and Action and the last 5 years of monthly Superman comics and Authority and probably Jupiter's Legacy and Tom Strong - but none of that's needed. You could go in with the baseline pop cultural understanding of the character and not care about any of the inside baseball shit and get that this is a story about a leader of a generation that let down the people they made all their grand promises to as inertia and day-to-day demands and complacency let him be satisfied with the accomplishments they'd made long ago, looking at a new era and seeing the ways its own activists are dropping the ball. The only thing that fundamentally matters in a "you have to accept you're reading a superhero story" sense is that because he's Superman he's willing to own up to it and listen to people who might know better about some things and try to set things right while he and those who'll take his place still have a chance. And yes, the oldster looking back on their legacy with a skeptical eye and hoping for better from the next generation, hoping most of all that their little heir apparent can fulfill the promise inside of him instead of being a provocating little shitkicker, is obviously also autobiographical.
* The overlaying Kennedy reprisal is such a great visual of a sudden intrusive thought.
* The Kryptonite secret is the obvious "This is going to matter!" moment, but "He lied about his son" is a bit that doesn't connect to anything going on right now so maybe that's important here too? More significantly, the Justice League can't actually be the villains here but that Ultra-Humanite's crew are in an Earth-orbiting satellite makes pretty clear what's up.
* I've said before that between Superman, OMAC, and a New Gods-affiliated speedster this was going to use all of Morrison's favorite things. King Arthur playing a role isn't exactly dissuading me.
* Love the idea that all the antiheroes have their own community in the same way as the capes and tights crew. They definitely all privately think the rest are posers though and that they alone are Garth Ennis Punisher in a mob of Garth Ennis Wolverines.
* Manchester's fallen so far he's gone from trying to convince Superman to kill to convince him to dunk on people for their bad takes and Clark just doesn't get it. Official prediction of dialogue for upcoming issues:
"According to these bloody Fortress scans, the only thing that can restore your powers is an unfiltered hit of dopamine. Don't worry, Doctor Black has a few ideas."
"Hmm. Maybe I'll plant a nice tree?"
"...fuck you."
* Ok I already talked about how great the Fortress looks in here but LOVE this library.
* A pair of pages this seems like the right spot to discuss from Black's original appearance that underlines both his and Superman's inadequacies up to this point:
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Responding to the problem of "the government and penal system are hopelessly corrupt" neither of them has any actual notion of what to do about it in spite of their respective posturing beyond how to handle individual outside actors - each is in their own way every bit as small-minded and reactionary as the other. Clark's coming around though, and he's holding out hope for the other guy.
* Superman: Have a lovely mineral water :) proper hydration is important :)
Manchester Black: *Is a dude who can get so mad he vomits and passes out. At water.*
* That last page is the one to beat for the year, and does more to put over the idea of this as an Authority book than that Midnighter and Apollo are literally going to show up. It also feels like Morrison tacitly acknowledging all the ways the premise could go or at least be received wrong - from Superman saying 'enough is enough' to who he's bringing into the fold to go about it - in the most beautifully on-the-nose fashion imaginable. Maybe they'll save us all! Or maybe they'll drown us in their vomit.
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boom-bakugou · 4 years
Text
‘Wherever You Are’ - Shoto Todoroki/Eijiro Kirishima
A/N: This piece is for my @bnhabookclub bingo card! I’m crossing out “Be Quiet” and ‘Heated Argument’. I would also like to thank @honeytama @shoutogepi and @dragonhrte for beta reading <333
Pairings: Pro Hero!Todoroki x F!Reader / Pro Hero!Kirishima x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, mutual masturbation, minor temperature play, minor angst!
Summary: Todoroki already broke your heart when he said he was leaving for 6 months, but Kirishima can glue your broken heart back together before he returns...right?
Word Count: 5.2k
masterlist
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“6 months.”
The words stung more than they should’ve. Half a year of not being able to see his face, hold his hand, sleep together in the same bed.
“Does it have to be so long? Do you really have to go?”
God your mind ran at a hundred miles a minute. Searching his face for any semblance of wanting to rethink the offer about heroing in America. But the sympathetic glance in his eyes was enough to tell you what his words could not.
Of course you were proud of him, of course you were. It wasn’t a minor thing in his career and not many heroes would be selected for such an astounding opportunity. Top heroes in Japan touring around America to show their quirks and how different cultures portrayed their heroes. A bit flamboyant for Todoroki but you presumed he was only following as Deku and Ground Zero were also picked for the once-in-a-lifetime gig.
“I’ll be back before you know it baby, I promise.”
So you took that promise to heart.
-
In the following months leading to his departure, there was a heavy air between the two of you that wouldn’t be mentioned. As if you both knew the inevitable was coming. How would you two manage a relationship from thousands of miles away? You had read every article on the internet, even bought books and followed tags that allowed you to know how to keep the fire burning between the two of you.
Shoto was typically quiet, he always was. But as he began packing his bags for the long tour, he was deathly silent. The guilt of leaving you by yourself in your shared home burning him up inside. He knew he had to say something to you about this whole ordeal, but how could he? He was taking this life changing decision and ruining what you two had perfectly here. But you two could survive right? Or was that the right decision overall? Was prolonging you two the right decision?
It all came down to the day he had to leave. Helping him pack the last of his necessities into his very packed suitcases which had been neatly placed upon your shared bed.
“I completely forgot to ask, how’re you getting to the airport?”
“Bakugou and Midoriya are dropping me off.”
Oh. You had hoped you could get those final moments of couples bliss before he left, but you couldn’t not indulge in having the two young heroes watch in jealousy of you and your boyfriend.
“Can I come? See you off before you leave?”
Your tone was so bittersweet. Not really wanting to see him leave into the airport gates.
“Of course you can.” Todoroki zipped up his final case before pressing a chaste kiss upon your forehead, lingering for a moment to then head to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for you both.
The familiar ring of Todoroki’s phone signified that Bakugou and Midoriya were outside. Bakugou had convinced Kirishima to drive them to the airport (which he did not appreciate as it was far too early for him) and he was the one to head up to help Todoroki with his cases.
“I’ll get that for you Y/N, no worries.” His toothy grin glimmered to you as he picked up the heavy case with ease. It must be fun being a pro-hero.
The ride to the airport was sweet, despite being squashed in the back with Bakugou and Todoroki. It was mostly filled with inside jokes between the four boys and Bakugou screaming for the aux cord because ‘Shitty hair’s music is shitty’. You’d miss the small moments like these.
After checking the three men and their bags to the plane, Todoroki and you parted from the group to have a few last moments together before it would only be facetimes and snapchat stories in seeing each other’s lives.
“Y/N you know this will be difficult right?”
“I know, but I’ve planned everything out! We’re gonna be fine.”
“I’m going to be so busy though, I’ll barely have time for calls and I’ll be so tired at the end of my day and-“
“That’s why when we do call, it’ll be so much more special! We have date nights planned and-“
“Y/N, look I just don’t think I want to push this.”
You could have almost spat your coffee out at his interruption. He wasn’t even looking at you, springing this up on you in your last moments before not seeing him for 6 whole months.
“Wh-what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that… I don’t know, maybe you should see other people. I just don’t think- with how busy I am-it willon’t work.”
You hadn’t even realised you were crying. Your glare towards him basically begging for him to look you in the eyes. Coward.
“So you won’t even try?”
“I just don’t see the point-“
“The point in us?” The daggers in your voice finally made him look up at you, the snivelling mess he had made you into. He had gotten your hopes up that it would work, that you’d still be there for him and support him. “Have fun on your tour Todoroki.”
You left your coffee half drunk, not even wanting the takeaway cup with his name on it. It wasn’t worth your time.
“Hey Kirishima could I have the keys to your car? I just wanna sit down for a bit.” Your eyes were practically glued to the floor, as a means to not show him that you were seconds from fully breaking down.
“Sure, but, aren’t you gonna say goodbye to Sho?” He reluctantly pulled his keys out from his sweatpants pocket, dangling them in front of you in hopes that he could see your expression.
“He just did.” You try your best not to snatch them from him but your attempt fails. You just wanted to be out of there. Even pushing past Bakugou and Midoriya to exit the building and sit alone with your thoughts.
Selfish bastard. If he’d been thinking about this for so long why not just break up with you when he first told you? Why wait so fucking long for him to just break your heart when you did so much to salvage anything if things got bad? You hit your hand on the steering wheel so hard that the horn beeps and you sob more from the fright. You must’ve looked insane.
Kirishima arrived back at his car about 10 minutes later. Sliding out from the driver’s position to the passenger seat silently, you had at least cleaned yourself up a bit in the thought of knowing that he would soon be back.
“So, he told me.” Kirishima breaks the silence. Hands gripping the wheel with a nervous intent. Knowing it’s a very touchy subject.
“Yeah?”
“It’s gonna be fine y’know? At least he’s not like in your face or anything or you can’t awkwardly bump into him in the street.” His attempts to pick up the mood fall on deaf ears.
“He didn’t have to drag me along for the ride though.” Your tears slide down your face and pool on your neck, not even having the strength within you to wipe them away.
“Well we’re all here for you no matter what Y/N-“
“Can I go to yours for a bit? I know it’s early I just… don’t want to go back to the flat just yet.”
“Course you can.”
-
Staying at Kirishima’s became a regular thing. Not really being able to confine yourself to the four walls of the apartment you used to share with Shoto.
He’d let you sleep in his spare room, his gym equipment keeping you company in the night. It was a fine arrangement. Kirishima was always so nice to you when you were with Todoroki, and since your abrupt breakup; you had an inkling that Kirishima wasn’t on the best of terms with him anymore.
The barren walls and blankets kept you safe from old memories, but your mind followed through with the nightmares.
Your body shook from the antagonising scowl upon Todoroki’s face, it was terrifying but mostly upsetting. You couldn’t help but sob yourself awake. Your pillow a wet mess and your throat dry from screaming.
“Y/N?”
Kirishima stood in your doorway, the light from the hallway pooling around him and the sympathetic gaze in his tired eyes.
“Nightmares?”
You nodded, sitting yourself up in bed and wiping the wet from your cheeks. Kirishima sat on the edge of your bed, rubbing your leg comfortingly over the duvet.
“Do you need anything?” The tired croak in his voice broke your heart further. You felt like such a burden.
“No I’m okay; thank you.” With a small smile, Kirishima got up to go back to bed before you intervened. “Wait- will you stay with me?”
There’s a small glimmer of confusion that passes over Kirishima’s face, but in the end he accepts. You’d known each other for many years and had many sleepovers in each other's dorms that this was nothing new.
Taking off his dressing gown, Kirishima was dressed in a slightly ripped top of his own ‘Red Riot’ merch and loose-fitting boxers. It took you a few moments to drink him in, this really was the most intimate you’d ever seen him.
And that’s how it went for 5 months, just you and Kirishima periodically sleeping in each other's beds to just be with each other. Nothing explicit or sexual, just sometimes touching feet or waking up near enough in each other’s arms.
Until 2 weeks before Deku, Bakugou and Todoroki were meant to come home.
Whether it was the heat of the night or just an off day from not having been intimate for so long you couldn’t help but just need someone to touch you so badly. Thankfully Kirishima was in his room so you at least had some alone time to run your fingers against your slick folds, fingers sopping wet from just how aroused you actually were.
It was infuriating about how you could barely get yourself off, and stifling your moans with a weak lip bite was getting you absolutely nowhere. You knew how thin Kirishima’s walls could be from that night he brought a girl home once. You barely got a lick of sleep just from the noise… or from the slight twinge of jealousy.
Because it had become such a norm to you both, you hadn’t even noticed Kirishima enter your room with your eyelids pressed shut trying to picture any sort of scenario to get the edge off. So when you felt him tugging at your covers; your whole body turned to ice.
“Kiri wait-“
But it was far too late. He had no choice but to see the bottom half of you completely naked and drenched in your own slick.
“Oh fuck Y/N- I-I’m so sorry look I’ll go I should’ve knocked- fuck I’m sorry.” Even in the darkness of your room you could clearly see the blush on his face as if it was illuminative. You also couldn’t peel your eyes away from the rising tent in his sweatpants. You could’ve licked your lips at the sight.
“It’s alright- I’m sorry I didn’t notice you sooner.” You tried your best to catch your breath, with no real success as your tone was so ragged. You covered yourself up and place your hands on top of your covers; allowing for some form of minor stimulation to yourself without Kirishima noticing.
“D-Do you want me to help?” He sounded so innocent but the way he licked his lips sent chills to your spine. Could you really sleep with your best friend?
“I-I don’t know, but- you obviously need some help yourself.” You do your best to joke about the awkward situation, something that was rather natural for your friendship. Kirishima couldn’t help but slyly place his hands over his crotch despite you already noticing the dark grey patch of pre-cum staining the fabric.
“Well… we could just… masturbate together?” The thought hung in the air for a brief moment as it washed over the both of you, Kirishima gulping as the silence lasted longer than expected.
“Okay…” Your tone was hesitant but he could tell by how dilated your pupils were that this would probably be something neither of the two of you would mention in the morning. He’d be okay with that… maybe. Maybe not.
Sliding to his usual side of the bed, he leaned against the headboard and you sat yourself up a bit further. Pulling the covers to the side so everything was fully out in the open again. You could hear Kirishima hiss between his teeth at the sight of you even more drenched at the thought of you two doing this together. You watched with the same anticipation as him as he pulled his sweatpants down to let his cock spring free. The sight of it so red and flush couldn’t stop your hand from sliding back down to your heat.
Seeing the two of you like this was enough to get you both off, the room was filled with an air of silence but it wasn’t heavy. No, it was littered with the soft moans of you and your best friend.
Your eyes traced each other’s bodies as if you needed to discover every inch of each other with just your eyes. You’d seen Kirishima without his shirt many timesa time but you could practically beg for it just to see the way his muscles move as he pumped his cock. Kirishima gave you the same attentive look as he studied the way your fingers slid in and out of yourself.
After a few minutes of pleasure filled and moan ridden ecstasy; your hand began to cramp and the frustration of still not being able to get yourself off had tears streaming down your face.
“Fuck Kiri-“ You whined, hearing his name come out of your mouth was a sinful kiss to his ears. He wanted to hear it all the time.
“Yeah, me too princess.” He sounded so low it was basically a grunt of a sentence. “Do you want me to-?”
“Please.” He didn’t have to wait, you lifted away your tired hand from yourself and he slid along the bed to run his fingers up your slit. Just the feeling of another person touching you so intimately was enough to release the tension from your sore head, the scream released from your throat could’ve made him come undone right then and there.
“Just like that baby?” Kirishima’s calloused fingers danced delicately along your folds, squeezing ever so gently at your clit making your back arch. Your hand drifted along his midriff until it found the way to the bottom of his cock. He hissed at the feeling of your hand around him and his fingers stuttered against your core.
“Please, mmmf… need you in me.” You managed to choke out. Kirishima didn’t need another sign as he plunged two fingers into your wet self. He set his hand just above your head, leaning down on you as you fisted his member at the same rate he thrusted his fingers in and out of you.
You both silently knew that it’d be too weird if you two actually had sex. You were just helping each other in a time of need.
Kirishima pressed his knuckles down on the spongy part of your insides, making your hand falter aagainst him before finding your way to pick up your pace again.
“Fuck fuck, Y/N- I’m so fucking close.” Kirishima forced the words out of his mouth as he watched you writhe in pleasure underneath him.
“Me too Kiri oh fuck-“ You could feel the coil tightening within you ready to burst and you felt him twitch beneath your hand.
“Fucking hell fuck Y/N I lo-.” The sound of him moaning as he came into your hand and parts of your stomach drowned out his sentence and the way he curled his fingers while inside of you was enough to also tip you over the edge, grabbing his shoulder with your free hand for a reason to ground you to reality.
Catching your breath, Kirishima slid away from above you. The reality of the situation almost settling in for the two of you. He lifted the waistband of his sweatpants up before pressing a chaste kiss on your head. He wished he would have lingered longer.
“I’ll get something to help you clean up.” He returned with two hot flannels, rubbing wherever his come had landed on you and using the other to wipe any sweat or where your slick had coated your thighs.
“Thank you Kirishima.” Your throat croaked from the pleasure of it all, Kirishima couldn’t help but give a short chuckle as he crawled into bed with you after throwing the flannels in the washing machine.
“I should be thanking you too.”
With that you both fell asleep, a little closer to each other than usual. But, what was he going to say before he got interrupted? You didn’t have time to think of that now.
-
Within two weeks, you and Kirishima had become a lot closer after your little ‘sexual altercation’. Your social media was flooded with photos of you and him going out to eat and going to the movies together and just dumb stuff you’d do at his apartment. So after 6 months of living on and off together; you two decided that you’d officially become roommates. Not a couple just… roommates.
“You gonna need any help or anything?” Kirishima smiled as you opened the door to your old apartment you used to share with Todoroki. Thankfully for the last time.
“Just go to work silly. I'm just grabbing the last of my stuff. It's nothing big, just clothes and ornaments.” You waver him off with a shake of your hand. “You gotta head to work and finish that paperwork.”
That earned a groan from him.
“I’d rather be manly and helpful to you.” He leaned his arm against the doorframe as you unlocked the door.
“Yeah? Well you can go and be manly and helpful to the public, I’ll see you later Kiri.” You smirk, he rolls his eyes. You parted with a small hug and you began to get started to clean up the final things in your old apartment with Todoroki.
It looked almost barren now, you didn’t realise how much of you was in this house and not him. He was always reserved, unlike Kirishima. Even though it was never a fully agreed upon thing that you were living with Kiri as you’d come back to this old house for most of the week- it didn’t feel like home. But it did with Kirishima.
You placed old bedcovers and old clothes into a cardboard box, humming to yourself at the glee of not being alone in the birdcage of your ex. You didn’t even hear the keys go in the door. It wasn’t until you were exiting your old shared bedroom with the box in hand did you notice him. You couldn’t help but drop the box as there was Todoroki, unchanged from the day he left you at that airport cafe.
“Y/N?”
“I was just leaving.”
“Leaving where? Where’ve all your things gone?” He couldn’t not help but notice your decorum missing, it brought life into the modern studio apartment.
“I don’t live here anymore Todoroki. I’m just getting my things and going home.” You attempt to save yourself the embarrassment of already dropping the box by spitting back with venom.
The look of confusion on the bicoloured man’s face was evident. You had no time to play his games.
“I live with Kirishima, I’m getting the last of my things. I didn’t even realise you’d be home today.” You sigh. Though, maybe you subconsciously did. Maybe you knew that he’d be home today and that’s why you decided today was the day you’d get the rest of your things.
“I thought you were getting a bit close.” Todoroki grumbled under his breath, but he knew you heard him. “Always on dates together, always at his house.”
The loud ‘hah’ you let out of your mouth was a jutter in the conversation, Todoroki was obviously taken aback.
“What’s it even to you? Why should you give a shit about my life when you just up and disappeared for 6 months on your own volition huh?” You spat despite your whole body shaking, you couldn’t have missed him right? “You left me alone even when I supported you, did all that shit to make sure we’d stay in contact and now you have the nerve to be jealous?”
His eyes scanned your face before watching you intently, crossing the space between you to finally stand in front of you. You could smell his cologne, citrus and sharp. You’d forgotten how much you missed that smell.
“I didn’t know how much I’d missed you Y/N.” You could feel his breath fan your face catching your own ever so slightly. “I missed you so fucking much baby.”
“Todoroki-“
“Come on baby tell me you didn’t miss me too.” His voice was so soft and sweet to your ears, you couldn’t even stop him from leaning in so close to your face.
“I-“ But before you could speak his lips had encapsulated yours, the box in your hands losing grip.
God had you missed his lips upon yours, you sunk into the kiss as if you had never slept and he was the comfiest bed on earth. He pushed the box from your hands and it landed to the floor with a large thud, taking you by surprise. Yet despite you breaking the kiss from the surprise he swooped you back to having his lips against yours once again.
Kicking the cardboard from the separation of the two of you, Todoroki pulled you close. Taking you in his arms and furthering the kiss. He’d gotten more toned in the months that he’d been gone, your hands dancing over his muscles which were taught against his jumper.
“I should’ve never fucking left you baby girl.” He moaned against your lips, hand to the back of your neck as he drank you in. “Never. I missed you so fucking much.”
Sliding his hands from your neck to your lower back until he reached your thighs, Todoroki pulled you up and you gripped onto his waist as if it was clockwork. How could you have ever thought about anyone else but him? Todoroki walked with ease with you around him to your old bedroom, and when he lay you on your bed it didn’t feel so small anymore.
Buzz Buzz
“Fuck- Shoto my phone,” You whined as Todoroki left nipping kisses down your neck, you shifted beneath him to grab your phone from your back pocket to only see Kirishima’s name flash before you. You could feel Shoto’s heterochromic gaze as the photo of you and Kirishima lit up the screen.
“Answer it-“ Todoroki’s voice was a commanding growl and by the way he squeezed your breasts roughly you couldn’t help but coincide. “Answer it, but be quiet.”
With a gulp you shakily clicked to answer the call and put it on speaker as Todoroki began to slide down your jeans.
“Hey Y/N! Look I know this is out of the blue and I’m at work but- I can’t just stop thinking about us and you know… what we did.” Kirishima’s voice rang through the phone and you feel that Todoroki’s eyes could have pierced through you right then and there.
“But I just think you know with everything we’ve been through together- god this is so not manly asking over the phone but… do you wanna go on a date sometime? I’ll take you out somewhere nice and proper.”
Todoroki rolled his hips into your clothed core after taking off your jeans and a moan threatened to erupt from your throat. Sliding your underwear down his fingers pressed against your wetness and slid down before he bent his head down licking a strip against your sensitive clit. He knew your body like the back of his hand- you missed his gentle touch.
“And I know it might be weird because of Todoroki but he broke up with you so it’s understandable right?” Todoroki’s grip on your thigh became tighter as he lapped your pussy you thought that if you bit your lip any harder it would surely bleed. “I talked with Bakugou about it and he didn’t exactly give the best advice but… I like you… a lot Y/N.”
You couldn’t help but let out a whimpering moan as Todoroki slipped his tongue inside of you and moved in and out of you slowly, relishing the small moans you made.
“Y/N? Are you there? You okay?”
Todoroki’s hand left your thigh and he sat up, allowing for his bulge to once again grind against your core. You gasp at the friction of his jeans against your sensitive clit.
“Y/N? Hello? Please tell me you’re alright?”
With a swift grab of your phone and a hand pressed to your lips; Todoroki began to basically growl back at Kirishima.
“She’s busy.”
Making a scene of pressing the end call button, Todoroki through your phone to the carpeted floor where it thankfully didn’t smash.
“Shoto!”
“So you’ve been messing about with Kirishima, baby?” You whimper at his words as he harshly presses his bulge against you. “Also, didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”
He grasps your chin with his forefinger and his thumb, placing a gentle kiss against your lips before bringing his other hand and slapping your ass hard. You wail at the contact which only gives Todoroki a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.
“It was only once Shoto I promise-“
“Shh shh shh, your filthy mouth needs to be quiet baby girl.” Todoroki leans up from you and begins to unbuckle his belt painfully slowly. His hand gestures afterwards as if telling you to finish disrobing yourself by yourself. “I should’ve never left you, no one else gets to know that this pretty little pussy is mine and mine alone. Got that princess?”
He brings his belt to slap against your thigh when you don’t give him a reply immediately, to which you soon nod your head.
“Let me hear your words baby girl.” His hands slide down to his boxers, jerking himself off as if to tease you as you couldn’t fully picture how he was fisting his cock right now.
“I’m yours Shoto, nobody else’s. Only ever yours.” You’re a whimpering mess and you try to cling to him desperately. He lets out a low chuckle before pulling his boxers fully down and letting his cock spring free.
Todoroki settles himself in between your legs, savouring a taste of your slick before angling his body back up so you were face to face, leaving wet kisses down your neck but biting at all the sweet spots he knew too well.
“Gonna mark you so that everybody knows that you belong to me.” His voice whispered against your skin, the tip of his member prodding against your folds; sliding up and down against you for some friction.
Shoto made his way back up from your nipples to your mouth before pressing his lips against you hungrily. He settled his hips neatly against yours and you instinctively wrapped your thighs around him as he pushed inside of you. Moaning into the kiss with each thrust until he completely bottomed out inside of you. You felt so full and right, you were Todoroki’s.
“God princess I forgot how much you felt like you were made for me.” Todoroki grunts as he begins to set a pace for himself, entangling his hands in your hair and tugging slightly so he has free reign over your neck for every bite and mark he saw fit. “Isn’t that right baby?”
“Yes- fuck me Shoto I’m all yours.” You dig your nails into his back, hard enough to leave marks tomorrow. Shoto starts pistoning his hips into you and you both can’t help but groan at the friction of your two bodies melding together.
Shoto slides his hand up your body until he reached the small of your back, arching you at a deeper angle into him as he fucked you directly into the bed. The sound it made only added to the erotic symphony of your bedroom combined with your moans and the wet skin slapping together. You fist your hands into the sheets in fear of clawing Todoroki’s back any more and you swore you could’ve torn the covers.
“Does that feel good princess? Am I the only one who knows how to make you feel as good as this?” Todoroki’s laugh is almost sinister as he brings his right hand to your clit, making it drop in temperature just to see you squirm.
“You make me feel so fucking good Shoto- so full I only want you- I only need you. Fuck I’m gonna-“
“You gonna come for me princess? Gonna come all around my cock? Good girl, come on come for me.” He whispered into your neck, feeling you tighten around him. Your back arched even further as you came undone around him, pushing himself even further into you to feel you convulse against his cock.
“Shit Y/N!” He groans, absolutely exasperated as he comes inside of you. Letting hot spurts of come dribble out from your pussy. His hands slide from your sides and into your hands as intertwines your fingers together. Shoto catches his breath, his bicoloured hair stuck to his forehead with sweat as he leans into your chest- the two of your synchronising your breathing together.
“Did you miss that my baby? Miss me taking care of you like that?” Todoroki showers your fluttering body with kisses as he pulls himself out of you. Your heart raced but also the pang of guilt was there from the phone call from Kirishima.
“I missed you Sho.”
Todoroki took care of your heavily bruised body, apologising for the bruises upon your waist where he gripped you too tightly and covering you up tightly into your old bedsheets to lay together just like the old days.
However Kirishima was just glad he had a lock on his office door. He gripped his phone tightly in his hands after hearing your orgasm brought him to his own. The pretty profanities that fell out your mouth drove him insane. He’d have to seriously clean himself up after jacking off to your explicit moans from over the phone. Did Todoroki mean to hang up? He didn’t care right now, he just cared about good he could still make you feel.
He was going to make you his. Todoroki or not.
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clonecaptains · 4 years
Text
Get a Room
a santiago ‘pope’ garcia x reader fic
word count: 4.7k
rating: m - for smut, and semi-public sex (there’s others in the room - asleep)
summary: based on this ask from @woakiees​ - you’re on a trip with Santi, Frankie, Benny and Will - and you stop for the night at a motel. There’s only one room left, and you share a bed with Santi. 
a/n: i spent yesterday afternoon crying cuz of my writers block and then THIS HAPPENED????? feedback is much appreciated~!
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tagging: @pascalispedro​, @tintinwrites​, @damndamer0n​, @huliabitch​, @mandoplease​, @darksideofclarke​, @yougottakeeponkeepinon​, @mylifeliterally​, @agentpike​, @pascalplease​
Get a Room
You’re not sure how you got into this position. It all happened so fast. One minute you’re at one of Benny’s fights with the boys and now Santi has you pinned to the mattress. His hand clapped over your mouth, his length ramming into your heat – all while the other boys sleep in the same shitty motel room.
How did this happen?
Maybe it was the sharp smell of Santi’s cologne in your nose for 6 hours in Frankie’s truck.
Maybe it was the way Santi’s denim covered knee grazed against yours all evening during the fight.
Maybe it was the way his hand was on your lower back guiding you out through the crowd when someone spilled their beer on you.
Or maybe, maybe it’s the way you’ve been in love with Santi for years and every time he’s near you, your heart threatens to burst right out of your chest.
When your friend Will sends you a text that morning about Benny’s fight, you almost don’t want to go. You’re not in any mood to see Benny get the shit beaten out of him again. But then that second text comes in, that Pope is going to come. Your heart leaps in your throat and you answer back immediately. Will is too kind to pester you about it, but he knows about your crush. He’s kept it secret.
You have about 15 minutes to calm yourself before the boys come to pick you up. You watch like a hawk out your window and feel your stomach lurch when you see Frankie’s truck pull into the driveway. You step outside in a hurry, your hand trembling a little as you lock your front door.
This fight is 6 hours away. That’s at least 12 hours with Pope in a confined space guaranteed. Not counting the time spent at the fight.
When you reach the truck, the front passenger door opens, and Santi pops out with a smile on his face.
“Hey honey,” he grins and greets you with a kiss to your cheek. He opens the back-seat door and climbs inside, letting you sit up front. You fight the heat crawling up your neck and hope no one notices. Frankie nods a hello, and he backs the truck out of the driveway. He sees your blush, but he doesn’t say a word. His sunglasses hide the glint in his eyes.
Upon Benny’s request his playlist plays over the truck stereo system. It’s to help get him in the zone. It’s a little too hard rock for your tastes, but the occasional classic rock song comes on that you hum a long to or at least recognize. Still, it’s not exactly the atmosphere you were hoping for.
It doesn’t give you much time to talk to Santi.
There is conversation, it’s light chit chat. Benny is in the backseat, getting in the zone so he refrains from the conversations. It’s left to the four of you, but really you just do a lot of listening.
Santi’s cologne is so sharp in your nose. The drive is long and after a while it’s all you can focus on. It’s like a drug, a toxin in the air. Your lungs felt tight and your heart beats just a little bit faster. You start to think about what it must be like to smell it on his skin, with your nose pressed to his neck.
You know he’s warm, his touch is warm. You’ve been friends with him for years. Run into him at weekend barbecues and even the grocery store from time to time. He’s come to your birthday party the last three years in a row. He’s on your Christmas card list. His number is in your phone, but you never call him.
But you’re familiar enough that he can greet you with an innocent kiss to your cheek. It only makes you ache more.
Feeling hot, you angle the AC vent on your right to blow on you. Heat is beginning to build up on your collarbone. You’re already wearing shorts and a t-shirt but it’s too much, the heat of Santi behind you is burning through the seat.
He grabs the back of your seat once so he can shift around, the long drive cramping his legs. When you feel the seat shift behind you, your body tenses a little. His touch so close.
It’s stifling even when you have the air blasting on your face.
It gets worse when he leans forward, his voice in your ear behind you.
“Hey honey, can you angle the air back here? It’s a little warm.”
You lean forward and angle it, he thanks you with a smile and for some reason you panic. As if he knows something.
What could he possibly know? Could he deduce that it’s him that’s got you all sweaty, so you angled the air towards you?
It only adds to your suspicion when Frankie turns to look at you for a beat.
Shit.
They know something you don’t.
Maybe you’re just paranoid.
What could be so bad though? If Santi found out about your crush? It’s not like he would make fun of you. The only person in that truck that would make fun would be Benny, but he’s too in the zone right now to notice or care.
Santi has been nothing but sweet to you ever since you’ve known him. And maybe you want a little more than sweet. Maybe you want him to dig his fingers in your hips and take you apart with his cock and put you back together again with his gentle touch.
Maybe if he finds out then it could end well for you? If he turns you down though, you don’t know if you could ever face him again. That’s why you have to keep it a secret.
The heat’s only gotten worse now that it’s not blowing directly on you. How can you clench your thighs together without Frankie seeing? How can you breathe when Santi’s cologne is still so strong even after a few hours?
Your relief comes when the MMA arena is a few minutes away. Your long drive finally ending.
You’re not interested in this fight in the least, but if you can find a way to sit by Santi then it’ll make it worth your while.
It’s a tournament, and you’ll have to watch several matches throughout the day.
When you walk in, Santi and Frankie are with you. Will and Benny separate to go to the locker room. Before he parts with you, Will hands Santi your ticket. Frankie is buying a beer, and Santi’s hand touches your shoulder, directing you through the rowdy crowd to the ticket booth.
Finally, you have your moment alone with Santi. You’re not about to tell him you’re in love with him HERE, but you like being near him.
You make friendly chit chat when you find your seats.
“End or middle?” Santi asks when you reach your spot.
“Middle,” you tell him, and he steps in first. You follow behind, and that leaves Frankie to sit on the very end.
Frankie joins you in a few moments, beer in hand. He takes a seat with a sigh, then takes a sip of his beer.
“Think Benny’ll win this thing?” Frankie asks.
“He could, if he moves his feet,” Santi observes.
You just shrug, you’re not here for Benny.
Santi’s denim clad knee brushing against your skin reminds you why you’re here. His presence is so loud. In a room full of screaming spectators, Santi is the loudest in your mind. In a room full of the stink of sweat, smell of popcorn and beer, and the rubber of a gym floor – that cologne is what’s filling your nose.
“You smell nice ,” you blurt out suddenly in the middle of a match. Frankie and Santi’s eyes both fixed on the fight both turn to look at you.
“Thank you,” Santi smiles.
“Who said she was talking to you?” Frankie scoffs.
“Because man, all you put on this morning was deodorant,” Santi snickers and you laugh too.
“Thank you,” Santi says again, “I put on a little extra because I don’t wanna smell Benny’s sweat all the way home tonight.”
That’s only a reminder that this day will end and who knows when you’ll see Santi again for this amount of time. You have him right here and you can’t think of a single word to say.
You watch the fights, but you’re not invested. It’s then you get a bright idea.
“Santi?”
“What’s up, honey?” he turns to face you. The crowd “OOO’s” at something that just happened on the floor, but Santi doesn’t turn his head from you.
“Can you explain some of the rules? I’m trying to follow.”
“Of course!” he leans towards you a little, his shoulder touching yours. He’s closer so you can hear him over the roar of the crowd.
He tells you what to watch for and different rules. He gives you technical terms but explains them. He never once treats you like you’re stupid, and when he forgets a rule, he asks Frankie. Frankie always knows and he never tears his eyes away from the fight, but he answers out of the side of his mouth.
That keeps the conversation going. By the end of the day you’re actually a little invested.
“I’m going to get some water; you want anything honey?” Santi starts to stand up.
“I’m good,” Frankie butts in.
“I’ll take a coke,” you tell Santi and he nods. You fish for your wallet, but he shakes his head ‘no.’
“I got it,” and he squeezes past you and Frankie.
The moment Santi is out of earshot, Frankie leans down to you.
“Why don’t you say something?”
You know what he means. His words hit right in your chest. And you feel dizzy.
“What would I say?”
Frankie shrugs, but you see a soft smile on his face. You sit in silence then. Your heart pounding in your chest. It’s as if you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, deciding whether or not to jump.
“How long have you known?” you ask, breaking the silence. You feel horrified. He’ll be back in any moment.
“I had a guess, but today was it was confirmed.”  
“Does he know?” You feel sick.
That’s right about the time Santi shows back up with your coke and his bottled water. He sits down with a sigh and hands you your drink. You can’t help but notice the brush of his fingers against your own.
Frankie gives you a look and you elbow him in the ribs.
Santi almost chokes on his water with a laugh, “What was that for? I mean I always wanna elbow Fish.”
“Nothing,” you lie.
“Mhmm,” Santi shakes his head with a laugh.
You’re glad you asked Santi for that coke, you need the caffeine because the fights are running later than expected. And the crowd is extra rowdy as it nears the end.
There’s a few left to go, and Benny is still in it.
It’s a crucial moment in the match, and the crowd jumps to their feet. When they do, the person behind you spills their beer all over your back. Your now soaked t-shirt clings to your skin and you gasp. The smell of it is all over you, even soaked into the back of your denim shorts.
You look horrified, and Santi is quick to get you out of there when he sees the look in your eyes.
You’re dripping with it, it’s even in your hair. But sweet Santi, he cautiously puts his hand on your lower back, not caring if his hand gets wet. You can feel the heat of his fingers through your shirt.
“Here,” Santi leads you to a merchandise booth. He fishes out his wallet and starts to buy you an MMA shirt.
“Santi, no. They’re like $45!”
“Honey, you can’t wear a beer-soaked shirt all night.”
He hands the vendor the cash and he hands Santi the shirt which he then hands to you.
“The bathrooms are this way,” he motions for you.
“Thank you,” you tell him and bravely lean up to kiss his stubbly cheek. You grasp the shirt in your hand, as if it’s a precious gift. It is though, it’s a token of care. Even if it’s only a kind gesture as a friend, you cherish it.
You can hear the noises from the match in the distance, the audience growing loud. It must be over.
You peel your soaked shirt from your skin and do your best to dry off your back before putting on the new shirt. It still sticks to you, and you grimace at the sensation.
Santi is waiting patiently for you outside; you spot him among the crowd pouring out of the arena. The fight is definitely over.
Frankie is close behind, your purse in his hands.
“I almost forgot that!” you gasp taking it from him. You thank him and his eyes are kind.
“Benny won!” Santi tells you. “He did what I told him to!”
“I don’t believe it!” you laugh. You’re glad he won; he’ll be in a better mood on the way home.
“Finally,” Frankie chuckles. “We’re gonna stay at a motel tonight though, I’m not driving six hours this late.” He could do it and he has before. But he’s not interested in doing it tonight.
It seems everyone else had this idea because motels in the area all have no vacancy.
It’s 1am when you see the motel with the flashing vacancy sign. Frankie parks and you all pile out of the truck.
“Only one room?” Frankie wipes his hand over his face.
“We’ll take it,” Will interjects. “It’ll be fine.” He shoots you a look and you want to shrink back into the ugly couch in the motel lobby office.
Santi swipes the room key while Will pays the fee.
The motel room is small, as expected. There are two queen beds, a table, and a small bathroom.
Benny calls dibs on first shower, and Frankie collapses on one of the beds. He falls asleep the instant his body hits the mattress. His baseball cap falls off his head onto the floor from the roughness of his fall.
Santi sits down on the other bed and starts to take off his shoes. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and tosses it and his keys and wallet to the small bedside table next to the old motel phone.
Will sits down at the table, doing the same thing Santi is doing.
And you, you stand awkwardly in the room, unsure of what to do.
“Where am I going to sleep?” you ask, the elephant in the room.
“Wherever you want, honey,” Santi looks up with a soft smile. Damn him and that pet name. it gets you every time.
“I’ll go see if they have a cot,” Will volunteers and steps out.
“Thank you again for the shirt,” you tell Santi, tugging on it a little, it’s still sticking to your back.
He notices, and you see a small frown on his face. He makes a move you don’t expect, and he pulls off his dark blue t-shirt, leaving him shirtless. You can’t help the surprise that comes across your face. His tan chest glows in the dim motel light. There’s a chain around his neck and it glints in the light too. Your mouth waters and you have a need to touch him.
“Here,” he stands and hands you his shirt. “It’s better than a beer stained one for you to sleep in.”
“Thank you,” is all you can manage to say, and you know Santi can see the obvious flustered look on your face. His intention wasn’t to make you uncomfortable, and you know that.
“Whoa!” Benny shouts when he steps out of the bathroom. He’s the only one with a change of clothes, his gym bag draped over his shoulder. “What’s going on here?” he laughs seeing a shirtless Santi.
“Her shirt has beer on it,” Santi replies and he sits back down on the bed. Frankie wakes with a grunt and tells Benny to fuck off for being so loud.
You duck into the bathroom, taking your opportunity to get a moment to breathe from seeing a shirtless Santi.  
“Why do you call her that?” you can hear Benny muffled through the bathroom door.
“What?” Santi asks.
“You call her ‘honey’ all the fuckin’ time.”
You don’t hear Santi’s reply and it makes your head spin. What did he say??
You clutch onto his shirt in your hands and you bring it to your nose. The smell of his cologne is so strong in the soft fabric. You breathe deeply, the thrill running down to your toes.
You put it on the counter and turn on the shower. You drape your beer-soaked clothes over the edge of the tub.
Stepping inside, you feel another thrill at being so naked and Santi is right outside the door. If it was only him in the room, you wonder if you might be bold and drop your towel in front of him.
But then you scoff at yourself, you could barely handle hearing him speak in the car ride over.
The motel shower is shitty, like everything else in the room. But at least the water is hot. You use every ounce of the little shampoo and conditioner and body wash to get the smell of beer out of your hair and skin.
While you wash your hair, your mind wanders to Santi again. There’s an ache between your thighs that will never be satisfied. Not unless you get up the courage to tell him how you feel, see where that gets you.
You have a mind to get yourself off real quick, but the motel water runs cold. This place is terrible.
You step out to dry off when you run into your next problem. You reach for Santi’s shirt to put it on, and stop – how bold are you? Do you dare not wear a bra under his shirt? There’s no way you’ll sleep comfortably with your underwire digging into your skin.
You’re already going to be bare legged, your shorts are covered in beer and drying.
Your towel in hand, you ultimately decide no bra. You’ll just make a dash for whichever bed you’re sleeping in and hope no one sees.
When you open the bathroom door, the lights in the room are off. There’s at least two men snoring. As your eyes adjust you see Benny is on the roll out cot.
“Over here,” you hear Santi whisper. You find your way over to that bed and without thinking, you climb right in.
Panic floods your veins. You’re in the same bed as Santiago Fucking Garcia. You’re wearing his shirt, no bra, and no pants. If you move just a small fraction, your hips will collide with his.
You face away from him and your nerves has you clutching that scratchy motel towel to your chest.
“Hey,” he whispers, he’s so close. “It’s ok.” You visibly relax at his words, and he seems to be content with that. The bed shifts as he gets comfortable, and you lay there, eyes wide open.
You’re closest to the bedside table and you watch the glaring red digital clock for at least 30 minutes. Everyone is asleep but you can’t. Not when the man of your dreams is next to you and all you want to do is touch him. Tell him you love him.
Maybe he wouldn’t be opposed to you cuddling into him.
You roll over, slowly, and you come face to face with him. His eyes are very much open, and his smile is soft. It’s so dark in the room, but you can see enough.
“Can’t sleep?” he whispers.
You shake your head ‘no.’
“C’mere,” he whispers and puts his hand on your hip. He pulls you close, and you let him. You bury your nose into his chest and get a good strong whiff of that cologne. “I lied,” you hear him whisper.
“About what?” you whisper back.
“I said I wore this cologne to cover up Benny’s sweat. I wore it for you.”
“I lied too. I didn’t care about the matches; I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”
“So, what are we going to do about that huh?”
It takes a moment for your brain to come back online when he starts kissing you. The grit of his stubble scratches your chin. His soft lips brush against yours and his tongue finds its way into your mouth. Your body is putty in his hands, and you let him mold you how he wants.
Before you know it, you’re on your back. A wandering hand dips into your arousal-soaked panties and he toys with your clit. You whine once, and he claps his other hand over your mouth. It’s all you can do not to groan loudly. All of your senses are on fire.
You taste the salt of his skin on his palm over your lips. You hear your own heartbeat pounding at the thrill of it all. The man of your dreams is teasing your sex, all while you’re in a room full of sleeping friends. Your eyes are closed tight, just enjoying the feeling – you crack them open every once in a while, just to make sure what’s happening is real. You can barely make out Santi in the dark. His cologne and musk are strong in your nose. And you feel, oh do you feel. You feel it all. The pressure of his hand on your mouth keeping you quiet. His minty breath fanning against your face. His hard body on top of yours. The band of his watch digging into your skin. His fingers about to bring you to orgasm. His hardening length digging into your thigh.
His finger moves faster and faster, and you’re almost to the edge when one of the boy’s snores stop. Santi freezes, his finger pressed to your clit, you know he can feel your pulse there. But when whoever it was starts snoring again, Santi resumes at his rapid pace.
You shut your eyes and try your best not to whine when you come. You wish you were alone with him; you want him to hear how he makes you feel.
He pries his hand away from your mouth, so he can replace with his lips. You squeak in his mouth when you feel his hands pull your panties down.
“Do you want this?” he whispers on your lips.
You nod frantically YES. You could easily be caught, but you’d rather die then tell him no.
In a fraction of a second, his boxers are off and he’s slotting himself between your legs.
He claps his hand over your mouth again when you whine, the feeling of his tip against your entrance is too much. The blunt snag of him slowing pushing inside is more than you can take, and you arch your body up to meet his. He bites his own lip when he’s fully settled inside your welcome heat.
You can feel his heart beating against your chest, or is that yours?
Santi pulls out, and thrusts back in – it’s all you can do not to shout. The bed creaks, and you feel heat in your face. The reality of this is finally catching up with you.
Santi’s hips snap, and his thrusts are precise and unrelenting. The bed groans with his movement, and you wish you could groan. Instead you try and breathe through your nose and tears pour out of your eyes at how good he feels.
Your hands are everywhere, in his hair, on his back. You’re sure you’ve left marks on his skin from your nails scratching as he fills you up to the brim.
You can’t be bothered by the unforgiving squeak of the motel bed now. Not when you’re so close. His hand is in between your bodies toying with your clit again and that’s when you lose it. You pulse around him, hard. Your lungs are on fire and your heart is pounding so harshly against your ribcage.
It’s then his hand falls from your mouth. His face buries in the crook of your neck, his groans muffled as he spills inside of you.
He’s about to pull out when there’s a loud thump. Frankie throws a pillow at Santi, hitting him on the shoulder.
“Fuck’s sake, Pope,” Frankie mumbles.
“SSHH Fish!” Benny grunts.
You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles and Santi snickers quietly. You’re feeling too good to be embarrassed.
“It’s gonna be an awkward six hours tomorrow,” Santi whispers with a laugh when he pulls away. He grabs the towel you’d had with you to clean up the slick between your thighs.
The next thing you remember is waking up hearing a loud whistle from Benny. You open your eyes to see Benny standing at the foot of the bed, your panties dangling from the tip of his finger. Your legs are intertwined with Santi’s, and you look around to see Frankie and Will looking at you with smirks. Thankfully, the sheets are covering your legs, and you still have on Santi’s shirt from last night.
“Pay up,” Will holds out his hand, and Frankie and Benny both sigh.
“Excuse me?” you laugh, very aware of Santi’s arms squeezing tightly around you. He’s promptly ignoring the boys and kissing your neck.
“They had a bet going,” he murmurs.
“You knew?” somehow this is more horrifying than being caught with your pants down, literally.
“Nah,” he shrugs, he nods his head toward Will pocketing the money. “If I knew then I’d be in on it.” He laughs and you shove his chest.
“Benny,” you stick out you hand, “if you would be so kind.”
He laughs and tosses you your underwear. You put them on under the covers, then head towards the bathroom. No sense in hiding now.
Santi is quick on your heels as he pulls on his boxers. His hand comes to stop the door from closing behind you, and he steps inside the bathroom, closing the door with a click.
You hear groans from the boys outside.
“No time for round two Pope, let’s go!” Benny bangs on the door with a laugh.
Santi only smiles and leans in for a kiss, which you gratefully accept.
“I need my shirt back,” he grins tugging on the hem of it. You let him peel it off of you, and his hands go right for your breasts. In the heat of the moment last night he didn’t get to explore this part of you. He didn’t get to do much exploring at all.
His big hands squeeze and bounce your breasts and his thumbs toy with your nipples a little.
“Tonight, honey,” he leans in to kiss your temple, “I wanna take you out for a real date yeah?”
You nod and giggle again when you hear Frankie shout in Spanish at Pope to get ready.
He puts on his shirt and he leaves you to finish getting dressed. Your shirt from last night is still damp. The new shirt you got is what you’ll wear. Your shorts are dry enough but it’s all you’ve got.
“I am never taking a trip with you two again,” Frankie smacks Pope on the back and he winces.
“Oh shit!” Benny laughs. “She scratched you, up didn’t she?!”
Santi only grins as he pulls on his jeans. He offers you his hand when you come out of the bathroom. He pulls you in for another kiss and you can’t help but smile.
Will gets the room key, and Frankie does a sweep to make sure no one forgot anything.
“You two,” Frankie motions at you and Santi as you walk out of the motel, “are sitting in the backseat. And if I hear one peep so help me…”
“You’ll what?” Santi laughs, “throw another pillow at me?”
Frankie mumbles something in Spanish and shoves Santi towards the truck. Santi opens the doors and lets you climb in first. He chases behind you, his hands tickling your sides as you sit down in the back.
You do kiss him a little on the way home, but it doesn’t take long before you fall asleep on Santi’s shoulder.
You didn’t get much sleep last night.
And you doubt you will tonight either.  
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Concepts in Action (Glee)
Follow-up to Concepts of Insanity, spawned by a talk with @jwmelmoth
Slighty different mood than that one, but same base principle.
Returning to the loft after skating should be a relief after the awkwardness of doing such a loaded activity with his ex. Except it doesn't feel that good, and he's got some uncomfortable suspicions regarding Blaine's backpack.
“So, dad. You brought Blaine. Exactly when's his ticket back?”
“Day after tomorrow, same as mine.”
“Right. And where is he staying?”
“Well...” His dad's facial expression answers that question in a way that makes Kurt's heart sink.
Fan.Tast.Ic.
“So when you said I could return my present if I wanted to, exactly how was that supposed to work? It isn't, is it? I'm stuck with him whether I want to or not.”
“Kurt!”
His dad's voice is full of surprise and a bit of censor, but Kurt isn't going to let that influence him. His dad's crossed a line, and Kurt's not going to pretend otherwise.
“Remember the first Christmas after mom passed away? How you sat me down and apologized for my presents, before I'd even opened them, because you just weren't good at buying gifts? And remember how I told you that anything you'd gotten me would be perfect, because it was from you and I loved you? Yes?
“Okay. I still love you, but I'm taking the rest of that back. You coming here to tell me you have cancer was bad enough. Finding out you consider my ex an acceptable 'gift' for Christmas goes from bad to really shitty, and I don't know what you were thinking. Especially seeing as apparently you felt it was okay to tell him about your cancer before telling me.”
“I didn't want you to be alone.”
Kurt just stares, unable to process.
“I have cancer, and I knew you'd have a hard time to deal. I brought Blaine because I figured you'd need the support, the comfort.”
“And you brought my ex for that?”
Then again, support wasn't Blaine's strongest suit even when we were together, was it?
“Hey, you're the one who told me he wasn't just your boyfriend, he was your best friend too.”
“Yes, but that was before” he cheated on me “we broke up.”
His dad still doesn't seem to get it and Kurt can't take it.
“You know what, I need some air. I'm going to take a walk. You stay here, make sure Blaine stays out of my bedroom.”
Kurt starts out with going around the block, but he's still upset after and takes another loop, this time longer. It takes half an hour for him to feel ready to go back inside and deal.
Sitting on the couch with his dad and Blaine as they watch baseball is annoying as hell. Any other time, he'd take the closeness and read Vogue, especially now that his dad has admitted to knowing about it. But with Blaine actually watching and interacting with his dad about the game Kurt feels uncomfortable not doing the same. So he tries. Once he gives up and reaches for his magazine he heard his dad and Blaine joke about having bet about how long he'd hold out.
And then the next hit comes.
“So, Kurt, I know that this might be a bit weird for you, and you can totally say no if you want to,” sure, just like I could return the 'gift' of your presence, “ but I'm applying to NYADA for next year.”
Kurt sighs silently. Of course he is. The thing is, he can see it, the way Blaine probably assumes it'll play out. Blaine moving to New York, going to NYADA, buddying up to Rachel just like in high school... Kurt being expected to just take it, regardless of if he had been accepted or not. Any contacts Kurt might have gotten supposed to be at Blaine's beck and call, Blaine talking his way into Kurt's classes trying to replace him, like he had in Glee and with Cheerios... Kurt bending over backwards to make Blaine happy, just like in high school.
Because there would never be a chance of him being allowed to continue to say no to Blaine with them at the same school.
Thank god that's not going to happen.
And really, what was Blaine trying to do here? Pretending that Kurt's opinion mattered? The time for that would have been months ago, before applying.
“Oh really? You know what, I think NYADA might be perfect for you.” Not in terms of actual schooling, maybe, as Kurt's had the blinds torn off regarding Blaine's talent, but for the rest... He imagines Carmen Tibideaux subjecting Blaine to some of her special treatment. The definition of Karma, surely.
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. From everything I've heard you'd get along really well with the dean, and well, Rachel seems to thrive. Good luck.”
With no encouragement to keep talking about NYADA Blaine wanders off to grab something to drink and Kurt refocuses on his dad, trying to squeeze out as much of this visit as possible.
“Hey Kurt? What does NUY want with you?”
Kurt turns his head so fast it feels like he's in danger of whiplash.
“Are you going through my mail? Stop it!”
The words come out hard and he can see both his dad and Blaine react. He doesn't care though.
“You know, you going through my personal things wasn't cute when we dated either. Back then I just cared more about keeping the peace than about keeping my privacy. Since that's not a problem anymore, let me just be clear. I might be allowing you to stay here, but that's not an invitation in any way. Not to snooping, not to feeling at home, and not to getting back together.
“This is my home, and you are – putting it kindly – a guest. Behave with the decency I know your mom expects of you. If you can't do that then leave.”
He wishes Blaine would, but knows it's not likely.
“Buddy...”
“Kurt! You can't mean that you'd throw me out. Where would I go?”
Blaine looks like Kurt has done the verbal equivalent of throwing a bucket of ice water in his face. It has no effect on Kurt's resolve though.
“I neither know nor care. You either respect my home or you don't stay in it. This is New York. There are thousands of hotels and hostels.”
His dad just stares at him, as if he doesn't know who Kurt is anymore, and it hurts. Out of all the people liking Blaine better than him Kurt had never figured his dad would be one. And yet here he was, feeling the same way as he'd once felt with Finn.
“Buddy, you're being a bit harsh here, don't you think? Yes, I'll admit that maybe bringing Blaine without warning you was a little...impulsive, but why are you so angry? And don't be so hardnosed about getting back together, for your own sake.
“Like I said earlier, love's important. Holding on to love is important. I don't want you to throw away what you and Blaine have, not when you never know what will happen, or how long you'll have that opportunity. It's a cruel world, Kurt, but having someone to share with makes it better.”
Kurt takes a deep breath and tries, really really tries to keep his bitterness in. He's not doing that great a job.
“Holding on to love is important, sure. But there's such a thing as holding on too long and too hard. Blaine and I broke up for good reasons, and I wish you'd respect that.”
It's like his dad isn't even hearing him though.
“You know, your mom and I found it hard being apart too.”
Kurt did know. As a kid he'd loved hearing about his mom's semester in France, and he'd been told enough to know that it'd been tough. He'd read some of their letters to each other though, and he doubts either of them dealt the way Blaine did.
“So? Yes, being apart is hard. But that isn't an excuse for everything. I didn't want to get you involved in all of this, but since that's obviously not going to be an option anymore, fine. Blaine cheated. He felt I didn't pay enough attention to him, you know, between finding a job and a place to stay, and making enough money to pay the bills, and generally trying to make myself a life here after he practically pushed me to go here.
“And so he went and found someone else to give him that attention.”
He practically spits out the last sentence. It feels good to finally allow himself to say it, but the look on his dad's face doesn't feel as good.
If he was less angry maybe he'd be able to stop himself, worry about his dad's heart. But the anger's been simmering too long for that.
“That's why we broke up, and that's why I find the idea of getting back together objectionable. And you can talk about holding on to love until you're blue in the face, but I'm not the one who needs that lecture.”
He swallows down the lump in his throat, but goes on.
“As for the rest of it, are you seriously suggesting I take back my cheating boyfriend because that's better than being alone? Or because I don't know how long I'll live? Because if you are... What's next, dad? Telling me I should marry him because you and mom didn't get enough time together?
“If any of those things are going through your head you are also welcome to leave. I'll never not welcome you in my home, dad, but I need you to respect me. I need you to not act like you're putting someone else's son above yours.”
That's a warning that hits the target, and it's obvious that Burt Hummel remembers a row of uncomfortable talks about Finn. He deflects by turning on Blaine though.
“You...”
“No, dad. It is over and done with. Leave him be. Just... Just leave it alone. I don't want to take anymore fighting. Please?”
They stare at each other and for a while Kurt wonders if he should have done as he normally does and just backed down. Swallowed down his hurt and anger and frustration, kept quiet about the injustices done to him, and just pretended to be okay. Tried to not upset his dad, and risk his health.
Except he's done that for years, and it's clearly not working. His dad's health has failed again, with the cancer – and no matter how good the prognosis, or the treatments available, a cancer diagnosis is a health failure. Plus his dad is trying to fix him and Blaine, out of some misguided idea that they're going to be the next Burt-and-Lizzie, and he never would have done that if Kurt'd been honest about the cheating instead of blaming distance.
At least Kurt hopes he wouldn't.
“Sometimes, dad, first loves end. They end because of death, or because they're not meant to last, or because of something else. And then you meet someone else, and they make your life amazing. I'm not going to deprive myself of that by holding on to something that's ended. Just like you didn't. You found love again. I will too.
“I just need to be allowed to do so.”
They keep staring at each other, and then his dad nods. Kurt can't help it, he throws himself in his dad's arms, with tears already beginning to fall.
As they hug Kurt hear Blaine muttering in the background about finding a hotel, but he doesn't care. The door to the loft closing feels like it's closing on him and Blaine too, and it's such a relief.
After several minutes they let go. Both need to remove traces of crying, but that's good.
Once they're seated again Kurt searches for something to talk about, but his dad beats him to it.
“So, NYU? Or should I pretend I didn't hear that?”
“No! I have been thinking about things, about school, and I was an idiot for not applying to more schools last year. So, I did some research and then I did something about it. I've applied to half a dozen schools, and I've already been accepted to one for the fall semester. I don't know if there's any school willing to take me for the spring, but if there's not I'll just keep working and try to save up money.”
“And what about NYADA?”
There's no judgment in his dad's voice, and Kurt smiles as he tries to describe the situation diplomatically.
“It's...not looking as good in my research as I thought, so while I did reapply there I'm not sure I want to go there. I really shouldn't have listened to Rachel last year, because as it turns out? NYADA actually isn't the most prestigious school for performing arts, and it's probably not even the best for me. I guess we were both a little starstruck, you know?”
The game is back on, but they ignore it and talk, and it's everything Kurt would have wanted.
O--o---o--O
Months later as classes start up Kurt receives voicemail after voicemail about Blaine starting at NYADA, about how bad it is that Kurt's not been accepted, about them meeting up. Kurt ignores them as he did the calls and walks into vogue.com with a smile.
He doesn't feel the least bad about not getting in. Hell, he didn't even apply for the fall semester.
No, Kurt's happy where he is, with his job at vogue.com, a spot at the New School and a couple of scholarships helping pay the way. Oh, and a new boyfriend, which also contributes to his happiness.
Turns out? Acting in new ways can get you new and rewarding results. All you got to do is try.
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Majid’s School Uniform Story (R)
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aka riddle gets to tutor another unfortunate soul
“The library is an ideal place to nap… Just don’t tell Senior Jamil about this, okay?!”
[Location:NRC Library]
Majid: *yawns* Seems like I’ve studied enough Magic History for today. Haah… If only Mr. Trein would lighten up on the homework. So what if that essay had to be 4 pages front AND back? He should’ve been more clear about that in his lecture.
Majid: …Well, not like I was listening in the first place. *yawns* The sunlight there is always so nice in the afternoons… I can’t help but sleep a little while I’m there.
*rustle* *rustle*
Majid: Ah, and the next subject I have to work on is…Math? What a pain of a class. *yawns* If only… if only I could juusst-
*thunk*
Majid: *snoring*
*footsteps*
Riddle: Is that…
*footsteps* *THUD*
Majid: !!!
Riddle: I thought so. You’re a freshman from Scarabia, correct? The one who’s always getting pulled along by your vice dorm leader because you keep dozing off?
Majid: …Sure.
Riddle: The library is not an appropriate place to sleep. If you wanted to take a nap, then hurry back to your dorm room, and do it there.
Majid: Yeah, okay.
Riddle: You… you’ve been acting rather impudent for a while now. I’m a 2nd year, you know? You should speak to your seniors with more respect. AND no one should be using the library as a place to procrastinate like this. Not to mention the way you present yourself in your uniform… You leave me no other choice. State your name.
Majid: What for?
Riddle: Your actions have been deplorable. I need your name to report them to your dorm leader.
Majid: Haha… It’s not like the dorm leader’s gonna care much about something as small as napping. Can’t you just let this slide?
Riddle: Alright, then I’ll talk to your vice dorm leader instead.
Majid: Ah, it’s Sebek Zigvolt, sir.
Riddle: Don’t mess with me!! Sebek Zigvolt is a Diasmonia student!
Majid: Well, I never said that was my name. I was just pointing out that he was walking right behind you at that moment.
Riddle: …Ah, so he was- HOLD ON A MINUTE.
*rustle*
Riddle: AND WHERE EXACTLY DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?
Majid: Tch. And I thought this would be the perfect time to escape too.
Riddle: TELL ME YOUR ACTUAL NAME, OR IT’S OFF WITH YOUR HEAD.
Majid: SH- SHAHIN, MAJID. MY NAME IS SHAHIN, MAJID, SIR;;;
Riddle: *sighs* So, Majid then. Good.
Majid: ‘What the hell’s ‘off with your head’ supposed to mean??? Is it some kind of decapitation spell???? Was I about to die a couple seconds ago??? Do the library workers have to clean up my splattered remains after this guy’s done with me??? Surely that kind of thing wouldn’t be allowed- No… our headmaster is plenty screwed up; he wouldn’t do anything to help me-’
Riddle: Majid.
Majid: !!! Yes.
Riddle: *tap* *tap* Is this a worksheet from your math class? I saw a couple of my underclassmen trying to finish it in our dorm… You should really get started on it. The deadline is tomorrow, correct?
Majid: Uh, yea- yes. I’ll go ahead and do that… sir.
Riddle: Well?
Majid: Wait, right now?
Riddle: Why not? The library is a valuable spot for information, so you could always use as many reference books as you see fit. Besides, I’m pretty sure the second you step foot in your dorm, you’ll collapse onto your bed and leave your work unfinished until the last minute.
Majid: …Are you sure we haven’t met before?
Riddle: *sighs* I was just generalizing based on what I’ve seen some of your peers do… Don’t tell me that the rest of the underclassmen are this prone to procrastination too… *rustle* Here. Start with question 1.
Majid: Fine, fine. *scribble* *scribble*
Riddle: …
Majid: *scribble* *scribble*
Riddle: Ah, that’s wrong.
Majid: Excuse me?
Riddle: That step you took right there. You forgot to distribute the negative sign to both variables.
Majid: Right… okay. Thanks.
Riddle: And on number 3, you graphed the wrong system of equations. A slope of 3/4 should be less steeper than that.
Majid: Gotcha.
Riddle: And number 2-
Majid: OKAY, okay! I get it! I did everything wrong! I’ll just erase all my answers, okay?! Jeez, you lecture as much as Jamil…
Riddle: This won’t do… At this rate… Alright.
Majid: And why are you sitting across from me now?
Riddle: It seemed like you were struggling on your own. And I have a few minutes of free time. Don’t worry; I’m at the top of my class in all of my subjects. Teaching algebra is hardly a daunting task.
Majid: But I don’t need any help. And should you really be letting your guard down to tutor someone from another dorm? Scarabia’s test scores are known for rivaling Octavinelle’s, y’know?
Riddle: Well, judging from how you answered those questions, it would be foolish to consider you a threat in the first place. Besides, what’s the point of defeating an opponent if they’re not at their best? Just consider this as a kind offer from your upperclassman to unlock your full potential.
Majid: …I can’t help but feel like I was insulted multiple times in those first two sentences, but thank you.
Riddle: Of course. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you don’t tarnish this school’s good name.
***
[Location: NRC Library (Late Afternoon)]
Riddle: TCH. I ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT YOU HAD TO DO THE MULTIPLICATION SECTION FIRST, AND THEN YOU CAN ADD LIKE TERMS.
Majid: …
Riddle: AND HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO REPEAT THIS FORMULA TO YOU??? IT’S SO SIMPLE. EVEN A JUNIOR HIGH STUDENT COULD HAVE MEMORIZED THIS THE FIRST TIME IT’S TAUGHT TO THEM .
Majid: …….
Riddle: Ah… No, wait… I apologize. I didn’t mean to raise my voice… *sighs* But Majid, it’s been well over an hour now, and we’re not even halfway through your homework. Are you sure you’ve been taking this serio-
Majid: OF COURSE I’VE BEEN TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY!
Riddle: !!!!!
Majid: The teachers, hell, even my own classmates always end up asking me that same question! “If only you put a bit more effort into your studying”,; “You have a lot of potential… if only you could put a little more effort too”! As if I didn’t spend a ton of time already on my homework!! I had a shitty education when I was younger and sometimes I fall asleep in class, so I get that I won’t be as smart as everyone else, but…
Riddle: Majid…
Majid: I thought that I at least had the basics down… I guess no matter how hard I try, it’ll never be enough, huh?
Riddle: That’s not true.
Majid: Are you-
Riddle: I’m not lying to you. We can set aside your homework for now, but in the meantime, let me help you plan out some personalized study techniques. I can’t guarantee you’ll be in the top percentage of your class, but I can definitely save you from hearing those hateful words ever again. We’ll make sure your efforts don’t go to waste.
Majid: Aah… Thank you… Seriously, thank you so much…sir.
Riddle: Heh. Don’t worry about it. This is just another part of my duty as a fellow student of Night Raven College. Also make sure not to yell like that in the library ever again.
Majid: But weren’t you also just… Never mind, I understand.
Riddle: Good.
***
Majid: ‘This guy… what was his name again?’
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autodiscothings · 3 years
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Hello! I am quite new to your page and I love how you draw Kolyat. ♥️ Also, would you care to share some details about your characters?
I’d love to, thanks for asking! Funnily enough, I did a personality quiz for them recently, so I can just copy/paste the results here. Most of my content for Mass Effect is centred around Kolyat Krios and Oriana Lawson: 
I write them here: [AO3] I draw them here: [ART TAG]
Everything I do with them is post-war, and them as adults in their 20s navigating the shit heap that is a broken, post-destroy galaxy, and how they cope with their own traumas. They both want to help rebuild, but do it different ways.
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KOLYAT KRIOS
Kolyat Krios has a lot to live up to and change, but prefers to do it on his terms.
Kolyat is a methodical man, and gentle and patient with the people who need it most. He possesses an unexpected depth of emotional intelligence, and becomes a protector of the small and the strays, from a galaxy that often forgets about them.
While Kolyat can be even-keeled, if he is left to stew in his feelings, his anger will get the better of him, and he will react. He has a reputation for salt, and for his surliness; he also has a tendency to hide himself from others as a defence mechanism, and is slow to trust.
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ORIANA ‘ORI’ LEE
You might know her as Oriana Lawson, but she’ll introduce herself as Ori Lee.
Ori is a warm, compassionate soul who loves to be around other people and enjoys her work as a colony developer/civil engineer for Kellam Industries. She is quick-witted and smart, and funny with it; her taste in fashion and makeup is impeccable, as is her comic timing.
She is very good at getting to know you, but you don’t get to know her. Ori keeps her cards to her chest, and only lets her guard down around people she trusts completely, and has a tendency to care too much about what others think about her.
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FISH (the cat)
Queen of everything, ruler of them all- well, maybe just Kolyat’s apartment for now.
Fish is a foul-tempered gremlin of a tabby cat, with white socks and a white belly. Her iron paw rules the roost of her home; she graciously lets others share it. Fish loves her food, her nap spots, and her soft piles of things to sleep on. She likes listening to music, and watching the traffic outside of her window.
She is a former stray with both PTSD and trust issues, and for this reason she lashes out without thinking, and needs her own space. When she trusts though, she really trusts. It will take her forever to do it, but once you win her heart, she’ll love you forever.
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BATESEDA ‘Bats’ T’LORI
The man, the myth, and the almost legend- at least, in his mind.
Bats was always told he had potential, and rather than stay with the Huntress squad who trained him, Bats left for the Citadel. He is a firecracker of a man who makes everything he does seem fun, always ready to crack something- a joke, his glass, a skull. Pour another one out, he has stories to tell, and they’re mostly true- if he remembers them right.
He has a tendency to go through frequent bed partners, and never keeps anyone around for long. Despite the crooked smile and easy living, there is an air of melancholy around Bats he is reluctant to explain, but something shows through the cracks every now and then. He will take things too far -the jokes, his drinking, his anger- and fall down the holes he put himself in. One day he will struggle to get back out of it.
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ARJUN PATEL
A man who borders the line between squad dad and gross uncle, Patel is a treasure for any crew to have.
Patel is content to stay in the background, and is more savvy than he lets on, willing to play the bumbling, easy-going fool if it’ll get him what he wants. He is essentially Columbo with a cooking habit, but is willing to share his snacks- if he likes you, and that doesn’t take much. He is a man with quiet passions, and they shine brightly when he gets talking; his food, his wife and daughter, his interest in history… ask him about them, and his enthusiasm will be boundless- much like his appetite.
He has a tendency to be lazy, if he can get away with it. Patel can also overspill the TMI details of his life even if you’ve heard them before, without a clue he’s crossed a line.
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SISO VITACUS
Like most of the squad, Vitacus came to the Citadel for a new life, and another shot of something. He recently split from his bootcamp boyfriend, and is really not looking for anything serious- at least, not at the moment. Vitacus is neither as funny as Bats, as serious as Kolyat or as happy as Patel, but he fits right in as the jack of all trades of the squad, content to play everyone’s middle man and all rounder.
He has a reputation for awful, neon suits, a love of dancing and shitty action movies, as well as a fondness for lurid drinks, despite looking like the kind of man who likes none of these things from first glance. Vitacus is a tall, stocky bruiser of a man, even for a turian.
Vitacus can also be a pushover and too laidback for his own good, and can drift along with the crowd than go against it. He’s unsure why he’s like this, but as far as he’s concerned, ending up in law enforcement is already an oddity- all his family are engineers and scientists.
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BRATHAN ‘Brath’ SEKET
If ever there was a man you were unsure of -even after knowing him for years- it’s Brath. The usual rags to riches story, heavy on the rags; Brath fled the grasp of his abusive family as soon as he was able to, taking on jobs across the Terminus until he built up enough of a reputation as a gun for hire.
He got his money from less than savoury sources to begin with, but absolutely no slavery. He has a personal honor code he will hold the rest of the galaxy to, even if you don’t know the rules. Brath might give off the appearance of loving luxuries and living well, but to him it’s just greasepaint and stage costumes; he’s learning that on the Citadel, a Terminus boy like him will never fit in, anyway- the four eyes see to that.
He will hold a grudge for decades, and it will smoulder, too. Brath can be incredibly petty and keep receipts, and if things don’t go his way, he will make them- for better or for worse.
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LAETITIA PHALIA
A woman with a firm grip of the ins and outs of both her work and her neighbourhood, Phalia is the person to know when you need something, and if you don’t she’ll soon tell you, anyway.
She looks strict, but only when she needs to be. Phalia is just busy! There’s always some charity, pot luck, clawball practise, afterschool homework club, Galactic Scout cookie drive, donation pickup and volunteer work activity happening in her life. Phalia is always doing something, despite a full-time job and being a single parent. She gives and gives, because that’s what she expects people to do, the kind of person who will give you her coat and freeze.
There is only so much of herself she can give away. Phalia has had the very worst happen to her in her life, and she survives by constantly moving, not looking back. She just needs to remind herself from time to time she deserves to be taken care of too, and can rest every now and then. Sometimes Phalia also has a tendency to hold people to the same standards she has, but is getting better at learning the difference.
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DEREK
It's Derek, innit? Just Derek. Not his real name of course, but he thought it sounded fancy. He has a full salarian name, but his clan mostly ignore his existence - except when they want money.
The eponymous Derek has a fairly sweet soul, but it’s one slowly corrupting under a mantle of the music industry and celebrity. He has an addict’s personality, and bounces from fixation from fixation- but music will always remain a constant. He is good at what he does too; his production skills are perceptively complicated, and he is an absolute master at looping and finding rich, interesting samples; there is a reason he is in demand both as a DJ and as a producer.
Derek doesn’t have the best social skills, despite befriending people easily. He’ll pick them up and drop them, and will often self-medicate his mistakes. His ego can get him into trouble too, but finding real friends -and not hangers on- will help him realise he’s not the centre of the universe.
***
(The quiz is [HERE] f you want to see which one you got.)
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Episode 4 Rewatch Thoughts
So first of all, I would definitely say that I have...calmed down a considerable amount since my first watch, so to speak. @delyth88 said some things in her rewatch post about being able to adapt to things and enjoy the episode more the second time due to knowing what's coming rather than having to deal with the uncertainty - which I how I feel about it as well and is a trend I experienced with episodes 1-2 as well, and in some ways episode 3. Once I had a chance to recover a bit from the narcissist thing and the romance thing, it turned out there were a lot of things I really liked! The big issues I had haven’t gone away by any means, and honestly a couple of the biggest ones aren’t even things that specifically happened in this episode - the first is just the gradual realization I’m having that I don’t think they are ever going to properly address Loki’s past trauma, and all those plot points the MCU just dropped are probably forever going to stay that way. And that fucking sucks, there’s no reason it had to be like this, and I don’t see how I could ever not be upset about that or truly get over it. The other thing is that it’s just incredibly frustrating and sad to me that all those theories about Loki having some kind of other plan in episode 3 to explain the bizarre incompetence we saw, or payoff for the weirdness that was the TemPad breaking scene, literally just amounted to nothing. All these things I hoped were intentional subtext turned out to just be nothing more than...bad writing? So yeah, I’m pretty disappointed about that. But at this point I’m trying to enjoy the series for what it is as much as I can, and on the second watch I really did enjoy a lot about this episode. So yeah, long-ass intro aside, here are my (hopefully more coherent this time) thoughts about episode 4:
Damn, that scene with Sylvie as a child really highlights how inhumane and barbaric the TVA is. Seeing her in that little prison uniform was...oof. Not that we didn’t already know the TVA was terrible, but I appreciate that they’re making it unmistakably clear for the general audience.
It's genuinely a good thing that they're going into Sylvie's trauma, and it's important to the plot, but I can't even put into words how frustrating it is to see them do that while simultaneously refusing to address Loki's. (you know, the protagonist?)
"Kind of an asshole and a bad friend" LMAO Mobius the TVA was holding Loki captive and was eventually going to kill him, can you really blame the guy for trying to escape?? Also an additional episode establishing that friendship would have been good - as much as I'm glad they consider each other friends, it felt premature for either of them to use that word yet.
I have mixed feelings about the Sif scene - overall I like it, but I do have some issues:
Pros: 
-   Loki whump! Both physical and emotional! (I want to see Loki win but I also like whump. It's complicated. Also I'm confused about where exactly she kneed him? Everyone is saying crotch but the first time he's holding his inner thigh so I thought it was there? Anyway if it is the crotch I'm not a huge fan of that particular decision, but my general feelings about whump still stand.) 
-    Lots of sad Loki faces, talking about fear of being alone - good stuff!
Cons: 
-    The first of the dreaded "narcissist" mentions
-    It’s kind of odd that he never even tried fighting back?
-    This also could have been an opportunity to acknowledge Loki's trauma, and as usual, they did not take it. I would have maybe liked a scene where Odin was being a dick to Loki and we got an acknowledgement of some of the emotional abuse. They probably could've worked Loki's fear of being alone into just about any memory. Did it really have to be a scene about how Loki's in the wrong? And in itself I have no issue with Loki facing the mistakes he's made! But I've been waiting 10 goddamn years for just one character or even a single solitary line of dialogue to acknowledge that Loki was wronged too, and by all appearances it still isn't going to happen and I'm just fucking tired.
And about the narcissist thing - it's frustrating because if they would just do it right, it could actually be really good?? If an element of the story was Loki (and Mobius) thinking he was a narcissist and then realizing he actually isn't, that would be amazing. The problem is, I'm fairly certain they are not going to go that route. I feel like it'll be more along the lines of "yeah you're a narcissist but you can be Good!" instead of acknowledging that Loki was never a fucking narcissist in the first place. Tbh it makes sense that both Loki and Mobius might think Loki's a narcissist, or throw around the term without knowing what they’re talking about - there are great explanations and meta about that - the real problem for me is that, in the eyes of the general audience, it confirmed a harmful and unfortunately very popular misconception about Loki, and it also perpetuates an incorrect view of what a narcissist is. Those are the main reasons I'm mad about it; if they purposefully, explicitly contradict it later it'll probably be fine! I just really don't think they're going to.
Tbh, after the second watch I'm a lot less mad about the shitty things Mobius said while interrogating Loki - it still hurt to hear and I'd still love an apology, but from Mobius' perspective it honestly makes sense that he wouldn't pull any punches considering he thinks Loki is partially responsible for killing the minutemen and Hunter C-20, and is trying to bring down the TVA.
I do still think Mobius turning on the TVA felt rushed. I'm delighted he got there, and the way he realized things made sense - it just happened unrealistically fast. I felt like a lot of things were rushed, and honestly I think more things will probably feel rushed in these last two episodes as well. This is something I felt with The Falcon and the Winter Soldier too - like they needed at least eight if not more episodes to give proper space for the story and character arcs they were trying to squeeze in. Six episodes just isn't enough.
Although, that said, while I still think this episode had weird pacing it didn't really bother me that much on the second watch? Probably because I already knew what the sequence of events was going to be.
The scene when Mobius was pruned was amazing - I loved Loki's emotions, and the way he walks down the hallway still kind of crying but mostly just looking utterly dead inside? *chef's kiss*
The timekeepers scene still felt off to me, and I still can't really articulate why. It honestly doesn't matter that much to me so I don't want to waste time on it, but I guess it just felt...sort of low-budget? Like we already knew the timekeepers probably weren't real/weren't what they seemed, but did they have to look that obviously fake? Idk.
I'm going to make a separate post about the romance stuff, but basically where I’m at with it is: it's a terrible shame to see such beautiful platonic/sibling energy go to waste, I'm real annoyed about it but trying to make peace with it for my own sanity, and I think there are a million clues pointing to it not actually being romantic but I don't trust that any of those were intentional. So I guess we'll see? 
I'm very intrigued by all the Loki variants. Also I'm curious if Mobius is there as well, or if each variant person has their own world? Either way I'll be shocked if Mobius is actually dead (there's a million reasons for that but the main ones are that it's likely pruning doesn't actually kill any of the variants (not just the Loki ones) and anyway he's supposed to be in 5 episodes). I'm really curious about the variant world in general though and I wonder what exactly the dangers are - why Loki "will be [dead]" if he doesn't come with the other Lokis.
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