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niksixx · 4 years

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Number 73

~Part 2!!! Read Part 1 first please!!!~

Requested: By many of you

Pairing: Axl Rose x Female Reader

Description: A continuation of part 1!! This fic takes place over the course of about two months. (It’s most likely unrealistic, but when is fanfiction ever real? This also has 2,634 words!!!! I got so carried away lmao ENJOY.)

Warning: Some cursing and mentions of sex (no smut...yet)

A/N: R E B L O G :)

*GIF is NOT mine. Found it on Google, so credit goes to the owner!*

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“I knew he was an asshole, but fuck that’s cold.”

Nodding at your best friend, you bend down to take a sip of your lukewarm coffee, shrugging. It’s been two days since you last saw Axl. The douchebag was all you could think about; Not even the sex you’d had.

You couldn’t fully place the blame on him. You were naive to think you’d mean anything to him, changing anything between the two of you. Like he said, you were just number seventy-three.

“Was it good at least?”

You grin, fighting the urge to spill all the details. “Hate sex is always good, Y/B/F, but hate sex with Axl? Unbeatable.”

She chuckles. “How many girls do you think he’s fucked since you?”

You think for a moment. “Well, I was seventy-three, so I’d say he’s probably at about seventy-eight now. I’m not mad that he has a lot of sex. I’m pissed off that I let myself be used by a man that doesn’t care about me. I wish other girls could see that, too.”

Commitment wasn’t in Axl’s vocabulary. He simply couldn’t bring himself to be loyal. In the years that you’d known the Guns N’ Roses singer, he’d never been in a relationship. Girls were simply his playthings. They served no purpose to him other than pleasure.

Still, even with his mood swings and deplorable attitude, you couldn’t deny your attraction. But you’d think twice about letting the redhead anywhere near you or your body. You wouldn’t be vulnerable. Not again.

On the way home to your house, you drop off Y/B/F. Before she exits the car, she turns to you, the corners of her mouth raised in a smirk. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“About what?” You ask, fixing your sunglasses in the rearview mirror.

She gives you a look. “Duh, about Axl. He humiliated you. He fucked you and threw you aside like you were nothing. If I were you, I’d give him a taste of his own medicine.”

You drum your fingers on the steering wheel, gears turning in your head. She had a point. “What, like, I should get even?”

Y/B/F shakes her head, eyes wild, and smiles wide. “Oh no, honey. You’re not just going to get even. You’re going to beat him at his own damn game.”

~~~

“Y/N?” Steven yawns, scratching his head as you push past him into the GNR apartment. Glass bottles and cigarettes litter the floor from last night’s party, and the place reeks of alcohol, smoke, and sweat. “What are you doing here?” He follows your eyes to the floor, wincing. “Sorry, I actually just woke up. Axl and Duff started cleaning but they went out to get pizza for lunch.”

“That’s actually perfect,” You’ve been over the apartment plenty of times before, almost as if it’s your own. The boys needed to find their own respective places, though, as four out of the five were ready to settle down. Grabbing a trash bag, you help Steven clean up the rest of the mess. “Look, I need your help. I trust you the most.”

Steven snickers. “Oh, no. Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m not the most reliable.”

“Maybe not,” you say, hands firm on your hips. “But I trust you to keep your mouth shut.”

Steven groans, taking a deep breath before situating himself on the couch. He waves his hand, “Proceed.”

“You all know Axl and I can’t stand each other,” Steven laughs heartily and you shoot him a hard look. “And after a long few days of thinking, I decided that what I hate, even more than Axl, is being used.”

“Yeah, he told me about your little uh…” He makes a face. “I know you had sex, let’s put it that way. You were number seventy-three, he wrote it down.”

“I’m sure I was the topic of--wait,” You furrow your brows, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “Did you say he wrote it down?”

Steven nods. “Of course he wrote it down. How else would he keep track of all the girls he’s fucked? All the names are in a little brown book under his bed.” Steven’s eyes go wide, realizing his mistake. “I definitely shouldn’t have said that.”

Before Steven can react, you run down the hall and into Axl’s room, rummaging under his bed before your fingers graze a leather cover. You pull it out and flip to the most recent page, and there scribbled in black ink is your name, along with seven other girls’ names from the previous weekend.

“Son of a bitch,” you whisper, thumbing through the other pages. “Shelly Neilson, Diana Fox, Cait Burke, Jade Nichols, Ruby Thompson…”

“Wait a minute,” Steven says, peering over your shoulder. His jaw clenches as he rereads the last name. “Ruby Thompson?”

“What? She an ex or something?” You ask, skimming the first few pages, eyes bulging at the dates. “This book goes back seven years ago. Jesus, Axl.”

You feel Steven’s body tense beside you. You turn, and his face is stone-like. “Ruby Thompson is my goddamn cousin.” Mouth agape, you watch as Steven runs a hand over his face. “That fucking bastard. No wonder he never let any of us see this book.”

“Uh, what’s going on?”

You turn toward the doorway where Slash and his wife stand, eyeing you suspiciously. You give Steven a sympathetic look before turning back toward the door. “I need to find a way to get back at Axl for treating me like shit.”

“Look, I’m not defending him,” Slash begins, earning a warning look from his wife. “But you knew his track record and you still let him fuck you?”

“Okay, technically, because I rode him, I fucked him,” Slash and Steven snicker. “And yes, it was stupid, I realize that now. Having sex with him wasn’t going to fix any animosity between us. But he knows me personally, and he fucking hurt me. I won’t let him get away with it. Not this time.”

“So what’s your plan?” asks Steven.

“That’s why I came here,” you sigh, clutching the book to your chest. “I need your help.”

Slash thinks for a moment. “What does Axl hate more than anything in the world?”

Steven chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. “A lot of things. Competition. Second place. Being used,” Steven shoots you a wink. “And Y/N.”

“Exactly. Axl prides himself on having the most sex out of his whole friend group, right?,” Slash says, and his wife grins wickedly when she catches on.

“If we can keep Axl from having sex for a few weeks, that will give you a chance to reach his body count. He hates when others are good at something he’s good at. ” She says. Slash offers an impressive look. “Y/N, what’s your count?”

Your face flushes, and the two men glance at you expectantly. “Seventeen.”

Steven grimaces. “Seriously? We’re going to need at least a month, maybe more.”

“Hey,” Steven cowers when Slash’s wife pins him with a look. “In this house, we don’t shame women for liking sex and having sex just as much as men do. And compared to some men, seventeen is nothing.”

You send her a smile as a thank you. She nods back, grinning proudly.

“Alright, look,” Steven says, lips curling back in a quick smile. “I have three cousins who would love to help you get back at Axl. He crashed the first one’s car, stole money from the second, and slept with the third’s girlfriend. Come to think of it, she might actually be in here,” Steven reads through the book until he stops on a name. “Yep. Here she is. Misty Evans,” he snaps the book closed. “That motherfucker.”

“I have a brother you can use,” Slash’s wife grins. “And he has a lot of friends.” She wiggles her eyebrows excitedly.

“Okay, okay, hold on,” Slash holds up his hands. “It’s a good plan and all, but how in the hell are we going to stop Axl from having sex?”

~~~

73.

For two months, he was stuck at number 73.

Which was, by far, the best sex of his life.

And it just so happens it was with the person he hated most in the world.

Axl couldn’t get it out of his head. The way your eyes looked him up and down, daring him to leave and begging him to stay at the same time. Your soft lips that he was desperate to kiss again and feel on his skin. The breathy moans that were music to his ears. He’d be breaking his rule if he slept with you again, but Axl’s craving for your body had him considering wiping out the rule altogether.

His attempts to get you off his mind continued to fail as more and more women began to reject his advances. One minute he’d strike up a conversation, and the girls would be all for it, but as he returned from the bathroom or from a quick smoke break or the bar with another drink, they avoided him. Shot him dirty looks. Pretended they weren’t just all over him a few minutes prior. He didn’t understand, and it was driving him crazy.

Little does he know, whenever he leaves, you take his place, quickly showing the girls Axl’s book that hides in your purse, before urging them to stay away. So far, every girl that he’s tried to woo into his bed has shunned him. Many of the girls recognize their own friends in Axl’s book, and they promise you to stay away from him. It was dirty, it was evil, but no one ever wins by playing a fair game.

While he was constantly facing rejection, you were thriving. Axl noticed that whenever you came out with the group, men flocked to you instantly, more than they had before. You’d barely said three words to him since the night you’d slept together, and hadn’t even looked him in the eye.

He’d buy you drinks, only for you to mutter a quick thanks without returning the favor. Despite not being the best dancer, he’d offer you his hand at the clubs, only to be met with laughter from his bandmates as you accepted another man’s offer. And what blew his mind? Many of the guys looked...familiar.

From his seat at the booth, Axl could see a man shamelessly flirting with you at the bar. He grit his teeth, hand clenching around the bottle in front of him.

“Uh, dude?” Duff signals to the beer. “If you want to practice your chokehold, I’m sure there are plenty of chicks in here who would be more than willing to help you out, if you know what I mean.”

Axl’s eyes never left you. “What the hell is going on with Y/N?”

“What do you mean?” Steven asks innocently, shooting Slash a sly grin. “She’s having a drink at the bar.”

Axl turns to Steven, narrowing his eyes. “I can see that, you dumbass. I mean, why the hell hasn’t she spoken to me?”

“The hell do you care?” Izzy answers, taking a swig of his tequila. “You hate each other anyway.”

“I just don’t think I’ve ever seen her so...relaxed.” Axl remarks, bringing his beer to his lips.

“I mean, I’d be too if I was having as much sex as she was,” Slash grins, dropping a teasing wink in his wife’s direction.

Axl pauses, brows drawn together. “What the fuck do you mean?”

Hesitantly, Slash’s wife clears her throat, chiming into the conversation for the first time that night. “Alright, look, this does not leave the table, hear me?” When everyone nods, she continues. “I promised I’d keep this to myself, but Y/N’s had sex with twenty guys in the past five days.”

Axl’s eyes nearly roll out of his head when the table laughs. He seems to have missed what was funny.

“No shit!” Duff laughs, clapping his hands together.

“That’s fucking impressive,” Izzy smirks.

“So what does that bring her count to total?” Steven asks, fully aware of Axl’s bright red face. He laughs to himself. The singer was hopeless, making it way too easy for the group to fuck with him.

“Seventy bodies,” Slash’s wife cocks her head to the side. Something about her words, her gesture, is taunting. “How many did you say you had again, Axl?”

“Seventy-three,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Wait,” Izzy and Slash say together, “You haven’t fucked anyone since Y/N?”

“Dude, that was over two months ago,” Duff says in a teasing manner.

“It’s not like I haven’t fucking tried!” Axl exclaims, slamming his palm down on the table. He takes a deep breath, finding his composure, and lowers his voice. “I keep getting rejected and I don’t fucking know why.”

“Oh, the horror,” Izzy says, rolling his eyes. “All will be right in the world when Axl finds some random chick to bang.”

Slash and his wife snicker and share a look. Axl shakes his head. He senses something is wrong, but he can’t call anyone out without proof.

Something about you having almost the same amount of bodies as him didn’t sit right. No one in his life even came close. Then again, no one was so obsessed with sex like Axl was. No one was so open about their sex life.

Against his better judgment, Axl finds himself striding toward the bar, visibly irritated as the man next to you rests his palm right above your ass. Axl grabs the man’s wrist and pulls it from your body, pushing him away from you. He ignores the man’s protests, throws back the rest of whatever piss warm beer the dude had been drinking, flips him off, before turning back to you.

The shock on your face is evident. “There is something seriously wrong with you. What the hell, Axl?”

“Seventy bodies?” Axl says, voice condescending. “Some prostitutes don’t even have that many.”

Your blood boils and you swear to yourself you see red. The audacity of this man to shame you. “I see you’re still a dick. What the hell does it matter to you, huh? What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” Axl’s laugh is light, breathy, as he restrains himself from screaming. “My problem is that I haven’t fucked something in two months. I’m going fucking feral.”

“Seems like a you problem,” you retort, puckering your lips before taking a drink. Axl’s book suddenly feels heavy in your purse. You sneak a look to make sure the purse is properly zipped before glancing back to the fuming redhead. “What would you like me to do about it?”

It all comes out in a rush. “I don’t know! Suck my dick, ride me, do something!” Axl cringes when you giggle, face heating. Holy fucking desperate.

“Are you...is Axl Rose...begging?”

He throws his head back in annoyance. This wasn’t going as planned. “I--no. Fuck. Ignore that. Can’t we just go back to my place or something?”

“I thought you didn’t fuck the same girl twice?” You remind him of his words, and you can tell by his face he regrets saying them.

But he remains cool, standing up straight, all the while contradicting his previous statement. “I don’t.”

Finishing your drink, you set it to the side. Batting your lashes, you step forward, a mere centimeter apart from Axl’s face. His breath is raggedy, lips parted, and you see it coming. He leans forward to kiss you, but you’re too quick. Brushing your lips against his ear, palm flat against his chest, you utter the words as confidence floods your veins. “If you don’t want the same pussy twice, then what makes you think I want the same dick twice?”

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tearsofthemis · 4 years

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Tears of Themis : Chapter 1 “Social Snobbery” Part 10 [Investigation Stage]

[Previous Part] | [Masterlist] | [Next Part]

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▌Location- QingPing Restaurant, First Floor

(Xia Yan and I have narrowed down our list of suspects to someone who has had a run-in with the restaurant, and has deep ties with Fang Yuan himself. I thought of Lu HaiYang, who had been briefly mentioned by XinRan, who tried to promote MeiWeiKa and was refused by Mr. Fang. Surely this counts as a form of “bad blood”.)

Xia Yan: “What if… there’s a connection between the QingPing case and another one that I’m currently investigating?”

MC: “Which case is it? I was thinking about Lu HaiYang, MeiWeiKa’s sales manager. Xue XinRan mentioned him in passing when she came to present her case.”

Xia Yan: “...”

MC: “What? Did she not mention him during your debriefing? Unless, there’s some other entity that we’re not aware of?”

Xia Yan: “Have you heard the news that MeiWeiKa has secured funding from PAX Investment Group and are planning their platform launch?”

MC: “I have. I’ve also heard that other smaller financial groups plan to follow suit.”

Xia Yan: “Yup, one of those financial groups hired me to run a background check on MeiWeiKa and investigate the company’s legitimacy. During the investigation, I uncovered that MeiWeiKa has not only hired a bunch of people to falsify data, but has also been obtaining illegal funding.”

MC: “What?! But MeiWeiKa is just a review app, why would they do something like that?”

Xia Yan: “I didn’t understand their motives before, but after taking on this case, I think I have a good idea where I can find my next lead. The competition between rating apps on the market is already quite fierce. Although MeiWeiKa is able to support itself through regular operation, they’re far from meeting the profit margin required for them to compete with already existing apps. However, if the restaurants registered with MeiWeiKa run into operating accidents, their PR service that’s offered at an inflated price would sound enticing to their clients.”

MC: “You’re suggesting that MeiWeiKa is purposely causing trouble for restaurant owners? For example, purposely lowering restaurant ratings by writing fake reviews, thus pushing owners to purchase their PR services in order to fix their reputation?”

Xia Yan: “It’s only a theory. I haven’t found any evidence that would support the claim.”

MC: “I would’ve never thought detectives today would be able to deduce something like that just by comparing two cases…”

Xia Yan: “What else should we be doing then? Invading the privacy of the young, rich, and famous? Or perhaps, catching infidels in action? Gimme a break.”

MC: “Your words, not mine. I wasn’t even thinking in that direction. I always thought all private detectives did were run cold cases that the police have dropped. It was sheer luck that Lu HaiYang turned out to work for MeiWeiKa. Let’s see if we can find something in the restaurant that’ll support your theory.”

~~~Investigation starts!~~~

▌[Examine photo frame on the bookshelf]

MC: “This photo is…? Mr. Fang’s family portrait?”

(I came across a photo frame nested between countless cookbooks.)

▌[Examine boy in the photo]

MC: “Is this Mr. Fang’s son?”

Xia Yan: “During my debriefing with Xue XinRan, she never mentioned that Mr. Fang had a son.”

MC: “She’s only been in Stellis City for a month, it’s only natural that she wouldn’t know too much about Mr. Fang’s familial status. I think… the boy in the photo looks kinda familiar.”

Xia Yan: “Familiar? Is it someone that you bumped into recently?”

MC: “Not that I can recall.”

▌[Examine woman in the photo]

MC: “This must be Mrs. Fang, she’s so pretty.”

Xia Yan: “Judging by how close she’s sitting to Mr. Fang, it must be.”

MC: “Her smile is so gentle, I think she must have been a kind person. It’s a shame that…”

▌[Examine man in the photo]

MC: “Mr. Fang was quite the looker when he was younger. But now he’s in such a deplorable state… I really hope that once this case is settled, he can start fresh again.”

▌[Examine photo behind the frame]

(As I was about to remove the photo frame backing to check the date of the photo, I found a second picture stuck between the frame.)

MC: “This man is… Lu HaiYang!”

Xia Yan: “There’s a date for the photo, March of 2028. This photo was taken last year.”

MC: “Why would Lu HaiYang’s photo be kept with Mr. Fang’s family portrait?”

Xia Yan: “Judging by Mr. Fang’s age, if he had a son, his son would be older than Lu HaiYang.”

MC: “I guess this could be a point of interest when we interview Mr. Fang.”

▌[Examine photo frame on wine rack]

MC: “That’s so impressive! Mr. Fang was last year’s Stellis City fishing champion.”

Xia Yan: “He looks so bright in the photo, but his current state…”

MC: “This case will ultimately determine whether or not his restaurant can stay open. Experiencing emotional stress is to be expected, unfortunately.”

Xia Yan: “Speaking of fishing, I remembered that you really liked seafood, are you still a fan?”

MC: “Of course I am, I love it more each passing day! Seafood is low in fat, so I won’t have to watch my weight that way!”

Xia Yan: “Nothing wrong with gaining a bit of weight. In fact, I don’t think you’re eating enough.”

MC: “No thanks, I want to be able to fit into the new skirts I bought.”

▌[Examine surveillance camera]

(Xia Yan found the restaurant’s surveillance camera which was tightly tucked away in the corner of the room, close to the front door.)

Xia Yan: “It looks like the security camera lens was shattered. Lemme take it down for a closer look.”

(The camera was mounted high up. Xia Yan stood atop a chair and was barely able to reach it. The chair shook as he worked, it looked dangerous.)

MC: “I’ll steady the chair, just be careful.”

Xia Yan: “Don’t worry, I work fast.”

(Xia Yan was as dexterous as he claimed to be, and he dismounted the camera with ease. I watched anxiously. The moment he got down from the chair, I left out a sigh of relief. My neck was strained after looking up at him for so long.)

▌[Examine shattered camera lens]

MC: “The lens is broken… how did they do it when the security camera is installed so high up?”

Xia Yan: “Judging from the shatter pattern, it must have been broken by something thrown at it.”

MC: “What if the culprit noticed and broke the camera to cover his tracks?”

▌[Examine camera’s wifi signal]

Xia Yan: “The camera’s wifi adapter is broken, there’s no way for it to connect to a network.”

MC: “Even if it’s connected, it’s not much of use to us. The cloud only stores surveillance footage up to fourteen days ago. The date of the incident falls beyond this window of time.”

▌[Examine camera’s SD card]

Xia Yan: “The security camera must have been hit by something. The card ejector got stuck from the impact, so I can’t remove the SD card. Nothing I can’t fix though! We’ll be able to retrieve the footage once I fix the ejector.”

▌[Examine the restaurant’s guest book]

MC: “It’s not often that you see a traditional guest book. XinRan had mentioned that after Mr. Fang had refused Lu HaiYang’s PR service, the restaurant had started receiving a lot of bad ratings on MeiWeiKa. All I see are glowing reviews from customers in the guest book. This is proof that MeiWeiKa is running some sort of smear campaign.”

Xia Yan: “Each handwritten review is filled with sincere praise. It’s clear that Mr. Fang’s dishes are celebrated.”

MC: “This…”

(There was an advertisement sandwiched between the pages of the guest book.)

MC: “It’s a flyer advertising MeiWeiKa’s PR services.”

Xia Yan: “There’s a handwritten price discount on the flyer, and even Lu HaiYang’s business card is here. It looks like MeiWeiKa was adamant about pushing their services to Mr. Fang.”

▌[Examine computer by the front of the restaurant]

(We opened the computer connected to the cash register in order to check the restaurant’s finances.)

MC: “Restaurant’s expenditures appear ordinary; most of their monthly spending is used to purchase foodstuffs. There’s also a monthly membership cost for MeiWeiKa. There’s also records of funds allocated to support students in need.”

Xia Yan: “Even though MeiWeiKa wrote fake reviews slandering the restaurant, Mr. Fang is still one of their members?”

MC: “His monthly membership payments are constant and date back all the way to March of last year. Huh? Wait, Xia Yan. Look at this, Lu HaiYang’s name is mentioned here!”

(I was browsing through records from the last couple of years when I came across Lu HaiYang’s name. Every month, FangYuan would transfer Lu HaiYang two thousand dollars.)

MC: “Lu HaiYang was one of Mr. Fang’s past benefactors?”

(On the record, FangYuan had started sponsoring Lu HaiYang a long time ago, and his payments stopped June of last year. That should correspond with when Lu HaiYang graduated from university.)

Xia Yan: “Can you pull up Lu HaiYang’s checking account number?”

MC: “I can! The first and last four digits… corresponds with the bank card from the Insect Repellent 330 transaction.”

Xia Yan: “Ah, I believe Lu HaiYang is our prime suspect.”

~~~Investigation ends!~~~

(After a second round of investigation, we had uncovered a clearer lead on the food poisoning case.)

MC: “Now we can confirm that MeiWeiKa, more specifically, Lu HaiYang, has pitched their PR services to Mr. Fang. Unfortunately, we still cannot indict Lu HaiYang based on one measly receipt. He can play around with the timeline and claim that he wasn’t here on the day of the incident.” Xia Yan: “What if he was caught on the surveillance footage before the incident happened? Then it would be really difficult for him to claim innocence.” MC: “But the security camera is…” Xia Yan: “From a quick inspection, the camera can still be fixed. I have all the tools I need in my bag.”

MC: “As expected from my most trusted detective, detective Xia-lock[1]!”

Xia Yan: “Just watch what I can do!”

(Xia Yan pulled tool after tool out of his bag and started to repair the broken security camera. Just as he started to make headway, XinRan helped Fang Yuan down the stairs.)

Fang Yuan: “There’s no need to fix it, I was the one who broke the camera.”

(Fang Yuan… smashed his own security camera?!)

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Translator Note:

[1] 夏洛克 Xia-lock : Xia Yan’s last name, 夏 Xia, is the same character used in the Chinese translation of Sherlock (夏洛克, Xià luòkè), as in Sherlock Holmes. MC is making a (bad) pun by calling him her Sherlock (Xia-lock).

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[Previous Part] | [Masterlist] | [Next Part]

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《CREDIT》 Translator: @humi-and-co Editor: @hallowsivy 《未定事件簿》Tears of Themis is a 2020 Chinese otome game by 米哈游Mihoyo. All original credits go to 米哈游Mihoyo.

《 VOICE ACTORS 》 Xia Yan | Jin Xian: https://weibo.com/riceranger Xue XinRan | V17-Su Wan: https://weibo.com/u/2925530143 Fang Yuan | Zhao Yang

#tears of themis #tears of themis translations #otome #未定事件簿 #夏彦 #tears of themis trans #tears of themis xia yan #xia yan

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cherryfi · 5 years

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Blame it on the Bokbunja: Epilogue

Plot: You and San finally have enough evidence to take Jinyoung down but, the outcome is not what you expected and to add insult to injury it’s made clear that San doesn’t trust you.

Part 1

A/N: I’m really not sure how I feel about this ending lol, I’m a little disappointed but, enjoy!! Let me know what you think!

REQUEST ARE OPEN!!

You never thought you’d be back here.

Stepping out of the car, you give one last look to San in the driver’s seat, he gives you a half smile and you wave before closing the door.

“I’ll see you when you’re done.” You nod and walk up the steps to the building. To the place where you used to work. The air is still tense between you and San (well you and Ateez, actually) but, you were working on it.

Maybe this mission wold prove to them how dedicated to your new position you really were. Maybe it would show the other members how much you really cared for San.

From the outside, the corporation was like any other government building. It was non-descript.

It was a large red-bricked building, comprised of some 10 storeys, with the country’s flag deposited outside at full-mast. From the outside, it looked quiet but, you knew the inside was bustling with activity.

Especially since you’d gone AWOL.

Your breath catches in your throat as you take the final steps, wondering if it really is the best idea to follow through with this course of action. Once Jinyoung had you in his clutches, it was more than likely that you were dead.

You’ve been burned, after all so, your being here could only spell trouble.

And it does.

But surely, he wouldn’t have me killed on Corporation soil? He’s a lot of things but, rash isn’t one of them.

Jinyoung would never make a move without having all the cards in his hands, you knew that from years of debriefing with him.

You turn to look over your shoulder once more at San, who smiles at you, it’s clear he was watching you the whole time.

Maybe he’s waiting for you to make a run for it?

You take a deep breath and swagger into the building, trying to create an air of confidence, even though you feel terrified.

You stifle the smirk that wants to break out onto your face as the front of desk clerk looks at you in shock but, he quickly catches himself and buzzes you in.

“Mr Kim called and said to send you straight to his office. Please follow the guard, he’ll take you there.” You thank him for your day pass and follow security as they take you to the lift.

Jinyoung’s office was in the centre of the Corp’s building on the 7th floor but, needed security access to get to it, this trip was nothing new but, this time you had power.

You’d always panicked when you were called into his office but, you’d still respected him. Respected him for his hard work and morals. You’d been inspired by his ‘underdog’ story.

Kim Jinyoung had been the head of the Corporation for 15 years; he’s made his way up from the head of security position that he’d been granted upon his entry into the company. Jinyoung was a well decorated soldier, quickly rising to general’s rank and it was his hard work and ingenuity that made him the perfect candidate for the Corporation.

But more than that, you’d respected Jinyoung because he could have ended up like Choi Jisung, he knew Jisung but, avoided all attempts to join, instead choosing to remain on the straight and narrow.

Kim Jinyoung had grown up a street child, you knew little about his upbringing, other than the fact that he and San’s father had grown up in the same children’s home but where Jisung decided to create his own ‘army’, Jinyoung joined the national one instead.

He’d successfully avoided a life of crime and made a respectable name for himself, despite the hardships that came from growing up in a run-down boys’ home.

But his military service had been fraught with criminal activity. From drug smuggling to murder, he’d done it all and his position in the Corporation was bought with bribery and blackmail.

Jinyoung was no better than the people he claimed to hate, his hands were just as dirty and stained. He’d done things that were unforgivable – of course, you didn’t know this until San burst your bubble.

So here you were, about to burst his.

The security guard walked you into his office, bowing politely when he was dismissed before closing the door.

As confident as you’d been before, the door clicking shut, diminished it all, leaving you on edge but, you weren’t going to let Jinyoung know that.

You quietly took a seat across from his desk and tried to appear as nonchalant as possible; you looked around the room silently, waiting for him to make the first move.

Jinyoung’s office hadn’t changed since you’d last been there.

His office was made of cherry wood, the walls and panels facing inward towards the rest of the floor were lined with the stained wood, giving it a rustic and almost homely vibe. Floor to ceiling windows overlooked the city below, giving a beautiful view of bustling metropolitan centre. Behind you was a bookshelf complete with various books and files that he’d collected over the years and behind him, he’d hung his awards on the wall.

In contrast to the rustic room, his desk was glass and bare. It only had a potted plant: a winter cactus, and one photo of his family. You remembered this picture; it was from that he’d taken to Egypt with his wife and kids.

Would it ruin his wife to know what kind of man she’d married?

That wasn’t your problem, it was his for being so deplorable but, it didn’t stop you from thinking about she’d take it if she were ever to find out that her highly decorated, Army General husband was really a war criminal.

“What brings you here Y/N? I thought you’d be somewhere in Aruba with your mouth firmly attached to San’s dick.” You raise your eyebrows at the harsh tone that he used.

Obviously, I’m not the only one who’s lost respect for the other.

You only smirk in response.

“Why would it have to be Aruba?” He gives a short, humourless laugh. You know why but, you want to goad him.

You want him to snap.

“Because I expected you to be on the run, as far away from here as possible. I expected that your boyfriend would have in hiding, we gave you a deadline and you didn’t follow through, you know what that means. Tell me Y/N, how does it feel to be so easily swayed from your job by a pretty smile? I always thought you were capable of running this place but, obviously didn’t have what it takes. ” You laugh heartily at that and he just blinks in response.

Him threatening your life was an unwise decision especially with all the dirt you had on him.

You were about to ruin this man’s entire career.

“I have no need to run, you and I both know that you can’t touch me. If you could, both San and I would be dead already. No, I’m not running. I actually just came to do you one last favour Jinyoung; let’s call it a parting gift from me to you huh?” You dip down into your bag and pull out the manila dossier, thick with evidence, from your bag and slam it down onto the table.

The picture of his family wobbles and topples over.

How fitting.

“And you’re right, I don’t have what it takes to run this place, if your track record is anything to go by.”

Jinyoung sits downs at his desk finally, opening the folder and leafing through the pictures.

He goes pale as a grin slowly takes over your face.

Gotcha.

“I suppose you’re wondering what this is huh? Now I know that you’ve always dreamed of being in politics and given the progression of your career it’s only right that you make it there but, and I’m sure you’ll agree, only honourable people deserve to be in politics. There are far too many rats running the country and it’s high time someone flushed them out.” He glances up at you, his hand on a photo of him snorting cocaine off a woman’s chest.

“What is this?” His voice is deceptively calm but it clear that he’s livid, he’s practically frothing at the mouth

Jinyoung is panicking.

“It’s a collection of memories Jinyoung, a little scrapbook of your memories. Can’t you tell? My favourite is the one where you’re accepting bribes from Lee Taeyong.”

“Get out! Get out of my office, right now!” You laugh as you stand up and smooth down your outfit.

“With pleasure, I’ll leave these here for you to think about, San has plenty more copies, if you need to take a closer look. I just find it so funny how you were more than happy to see so many operatives die trying to catch a man that you claimed was a menace to society, when really, you were just scared of the intel he had on you.” Jinyoung gapes and it only makes you angrier.

You think about all the pressure they put on you to succeed and how easy it would have been for San to kill you, all because Jinyoung couldn’t keep his nose clean.

“You’re no better than me. In fact, you’re no better than San’s father. You spent all that time saying that you wished he’d relied on you instead of turning to a life of crime but really, he would have ended up in the same position. You’re a monster and a murderer, you’re nothing like the hero that you portray yourself to be. I hope when you go to sleep at night that this haunts you.”

“These are doctored and you’re a fool for trusting someone like Choi San, he’ll take what he wants from you and when it’s all over, he’ll leave you dead in a ditch. You’ll be nothing more than a notch on his designer belt.” He spits the words venomously, the vein in his forehead throbbing but, it doesn’t matter because you can see the fear in his eyes.

You add salt to the wounds.

“It’s funny you should mention San. You see, I thought it was more than enough to just scare you with these images, maybe even get you off his back but, there’s something about trying to kill someone that makes them want to obliterate you. San sent these to a few of your ‘friends’. I didn’t know that you had a boss but, according to him there is someone you have to answer to and they’re not going to be happy when they see these pictures.” You shrug lightly, picking up your bag and heading to the door, you only stop when Jinyoung calls out to you.

It’s his feeble attempt to garner some support.

“What happened to you Y/N? Does he have you so hypnotised that you believe every word he’s said? I thought you were better than that. I had such high hopes for you. Hell, I even introduced you to my family; think about what this will do to them.”

“Everything San has said, he’s backed up with evidence and all you can do is try to manipulate me. You should have thought about what this would to your family when you were doing it, that’s not my problem.”

You release a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding as you slam the door. The journey back down to the lobby is quiet… and lonely.

It gives you time to ponder his words – Would San really get rid of you when you stopped being useful?

You can’t help the butterflies when you that he’s waiting for you outside, in the car, exactly in the same spot you left him.

“That was quicker than I thought it would be, did they give you any trouble?” You shrug as you put on your seatbelt.

“Not really. What could he really do anyway? The evidence is right there.” Sensing your slight discomfort, he only nods, reaching for your hand while he changes the subject.

“How about we go for dinner? There’s a new place that I want to try.”

It’s not until the next morning that things take a turn.

You’re at home with San.

He’s in the dining room, with the other members as you’re sat in the kitchen.

You’ve been kept separate from all Ateez meetings.

Even though you’d proven that you were trustworthy, the other members were still uncomfortable letting you be around their work, lest this was another ploy to take them down.

Although to be frank, San didn’t trust you either. He’d kept you under house arrest, under the watchful eyes of his staff, who rarely let you out of their sight. It was uncomfortable but, necessary.

If this was the only was to get San to trust you, then you’d do whatever it took.

You quietly sip your coffee when Wooyoung walks in, carrying a laptop, the other members follow in behind him.

“I need you to read this new story.” His face is stoic, not giving away any emotion and you look at San for confirmation.

“Read the article.” Although quiet, his voice carries command and you do at told. The title reads: “Head of Secret Service Agency Jinyoung Kim found dead in his office; investigation to follow.”

You gasp and look up the members, they’re watching you closely, gauging your reaction.

You read on.

‘The head of secret service agency ‘the Corporation’ Kim Jinyoung has been found dead by apparent suicide in his office.

Officers were called into the government building, this morning at 5:45am by office cleaners who found him sitting at his office desk, dead. The cleaner, who’s name has not been released, found Kim after they entered the office to enquire about taking out his garbage. When he had been unresponsive to their knocks, they opened the door and were greeted by the grizzly sight.

Officers have yet to release further details although it has been made clear that there is an ongoing investigation into what could have caused this sudden turn of events; for a man who had hopes of entering politics.

There is much speculation about how he died with one source stating, that it was a single bullet wound to the head. A suicide note was found but, its contents have yet to be released.

Speaking to reporters at Atiny news a source close to the family has said that his wife is devastated: “She never expected this to happen, he was in good spirits when he left for work yesterday morning, it didn’t seem like anything was wrong. She’s really in shock.”

You stop reading the article, shocked into silence.

“Why are you showing me this?” Wooyoung looks at you, his expression still unreadable.

“We thought you’d want to know.” Wooyoung smiles at you sadly.

San wraps his arms around you from behind, his head on your shoulder.

“How are you?” You sigh as he whispers in your ear.

“I’m shocked I guess. I didn’t pull the trigger but, I might as well have.” The others sit around the island as Hongjoong scoffs.

“The man’s a snake; don’t feel sorry for him. You think he’d care if you’d been killed? He would’ve just sent someone else in after you.” The others nod in agreement.

“I don’t but, I feel sorry for his wife and kids, they don’t deserve this, if it comes out that he was dirty, she won’t get his retirement fund and you know how people are; they’ll destroy her too.” You place your head in your hands as Jongho speaks up.

“He should’ve thought of that before he nailed his coffin. Think of all the people’s lives he’s ruined. His wife will be fine; she’s got a good support system around her.”

They all file out after that, leaving you alone with San, they’re faces showing clear signs that they didn’t like your response.

“They don’t trust me.”

“Can you blame them?” He doesn’t bat an eyelid, rebutting your statement with ease.

It leaves you floored.

San places his hand under your chin, making you look him in the eye.

“Y/N, I know you mean well, and the others do too but, it hasn’t been long enough for us to trust you with the intricacies of this job. Even you talking to your boss yesterday. You could have easily been a double spy. What would we do if you were only using us to give your boss more information or to buy yourself time? What would I do then? There’s a lot on the line.” Even though what he says is reasonable, you can’t help the surge of anger that rushes through you.

“What about me isn’t trustworthy San? I told you everything that I knew about the Corporation, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been able to get to Jinyoung. There’s no way you could walk in there and not get arrested or killed!” You throw your hands up and push San’s hand away, ready to dramatically storm out of the kitchen.

You know the other members are nearby and can probably hear everything that you’re saying (they’ve gone right back to making sure you’re barely alone with San, even at home) but, you don’t care.

“Do you know how my father died?” His voice is hushed but urgent, his eyes showing a vulnerability that you never thought you’d see from such a staunch man.

He was pleading, without words, for you to understand.

“I read about it in your file.” San scoffs.

“Of course you did.” Your previous job was still a point of contention across all of Ateez, who couldn’t understand why San would still want you around.

It was a point of contention among the members, founding and otherwise: What would stop you from double-crossing them the same way you did your bosses.

San sighs.

“He was double-crossed by someone he trusted, and he’d known that man for years. For most of the time I’ve known you, you were plotting to kill me. That’s the reality of it. I love you but, I don’t trust you; not yet.” His face is solemn but, he isn’t budging.

You get it.

“I get it. If a man that your father considered a friend could betray after years of friendship, then what’s to say I won’t do the same? I understand that San, I do but, how am I supposed to prove that I’m trustworthy? Haven’t I shown you all that enough?” You hear a distant ‘yeah right’ and several noises of agreement, from the dining room but, you ignore it.

If San heard he makes no show of it, his face remaining unchanged.

“The short answer is no. Trust is hard-earned, and in this business? Even more so. It’s going to take time before I trust with more than just my house-key.” He leaves the kitchen after that, leaving no room for argument.

You can only mull over his words.

He was right.

If you hadn’t fallen for him, wouldn’t you have killed him?

How different were you really from the man who killed his father?

In the minds of Ateez, you were just as bad, if not worse and it would take time before they looked at you as anything other than the enemy.

It was clear that you were on their watch-list but, it didn’t matter, you would do whatever it took to get back in their good graces.

New mission: make Ateez trust you again.

#Ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #choi san imagines #choi san #choi san scenarios #ateez mafia au #blame it on the bokbunja #kpop mafia au #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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draconida · 5 years

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BKDK Fic Recs

I've a lot of bookmarks in my AO3 profile and I needed to make a list with all those wonderful stories!

[This list will have other parts]

1- Mechanical Bull by warschach [Explicit]

Katsuki has a track record of bad choices, it's a condition, but Izuku might be the one choice that's right.

2- Dull by choimarie

“What? Never have seen a hot dude before?”

3- Caught Looking by EAter [Explicit]

He hadn’t meant to look, but once he did, he couldn’t stop. Izuku always knew Katsuki was attractive, in a sort of removed, passive way. He’s obnoxiously fit- with good posture and clear skin and those sharp, dangerous eyes.

Really, it’s a wonder Izuku hadn’t stopped to stare sooner.

4- Sour Silk by BrightEyesEren [Explicit]

Midoriya Izuku starts to receive random gifts at his door. Chaos ensues when he realises he has a sugar daddy.

5- Drinking Watermelon by warschach [Explicit]

For whatever reason, maybe divine fate, Izuku turned and looked over his shoulder and waved to them.

Katsuki’s heart full on stopped right then, and his fingers forgot their duty on the rails, and his body neglected its job to keep Katsuki balanced.

Izuku’s summer sweet smile fell into concern as Katsuki went airborne and cracked his skull on the porch.

Or Katsuki works as a camp counselor, and Izuku is a boy made of summer heat and sunlight.

6- Sucker Punch by warschach [Explicit]

But, whatever, Disney Boy over there was—

Prettying up real damn good that Katsuki got kind of distracted—totally understandable, like god those CGI pine eyes—and didn’t see the straight path he made for the metal trash bin in the center of the area until he was tipping forward and waist deep in discarded bottles, plates, balled up tissues sticky with he prayed was chocolate ice cream and nacho cheese.

Mina howled behind the gate. “Look, Katsuki returned to his home.”

(Or Katsuki works security at Six Flags and moonlights as a derby dude and continuously looks uncool around Izuku)

7- K-9 by warschach [Explicit]

Izuku takes in a stray on one rainy night, except it's not a dog, it's a dog shifter who goes by the name, Katsuki. After the initial wave of panic and embarrassment, Izuku thinks his new pet/roommate is pretty cute.

8- Misfire by deplore

Life's difficult when you're a teenager and your hormones make you lose control of your quirk. Alternately: A PG-13 version of "Sex Sent Me To The ER."

The pleasant sensation that comes from kissing Bakugou – the knowledge that it’s because he’s touching Bakugou so intimately that’s got Bakugou making such vulnerable noises – it tingles satisfyingly underneath his skin in a way that almost feels like when he activates One for All.

– and then there’s the sickening sound of something snapping just as Midoriya realizes, half a second too late, that the feeling is actually exactly like when he activates One for All.

9- Sugar Stardust by milkcandie

Between baking pretty macarons and sculpting wedding cakes, Katsuki slowly falls in love with a certain green-haired coworker who has effervescent stars in his eyes. Maybe working as a pastry chef in Nowhere, Japan isn't so bad after all, especially when he’s in such close proximity to a boy who manages to beautify every little thing in his presence.

A pâtisserie AU where Katsuki and Izuku are really the perfect ingredient for each other.

10- Gravity by warschach [Explicit & Omegaverse]

Izuku is back in his hometown and plenty hasn't changed much from the 8 years he was gone. Except, Katsuki Bakugou, the alpha king of their small town. He's hotter- because that's fair, right, God? -, stronger, a now-famous pro fighter, and noticeably nicer this round.

Not that he cares, pfft.

Ha, Izuku Midoriya caring about Katsuki Bakugou, thinking he's pretty cute and not half bad once you get past the asshole persona; though that gargantuan ego of his could take a dive off a very tall cliff.

(Fine, he cares.)

11- In Which Bakugou Finds His One Tru Luv by Erina

Welcome to the Explodo-kill agency! We can destroy your buildings, crash your cars, and help you solve one of the seven mysteries in life: who is Bakugou Katsuki's mysterious boyfriend?!

The Misadventures of Explodo-kill Agency It is a really fun series! Super recommended ❤

12- Cherish Me by Justaperson1718

“What?”

Izuku looked back down at his menu and flipped the page, a small smile on his face. “Nothing.”

Katsuki glared at Izuku from across the table. “If it was nothing then you wouldn’t be staring at me.”

“It’s just a little funny watching you try to look your best for our date when you always look great anyway,” Izuku explained. He wouldn’t look up from his menu while he spoke, but his words remained ingrained with confidence nevertheless. He considered what he was saying to be fact, and nothing else. “Even when you’re not trying in front of the cameras, it’s still hard to take my eyes off of you.”

13- Chewed Up by warschach [Explicit]

Zombie apocalypse, more than a third of the population currently dead or in the state of undead, and Katsuki still somehow managed to get his shit stolen by two chicks and Freckle boy.

Fuck this new generation.

14- Manage Me by Justaperson1718

Izuku caught himself moving forward, his head tilted somewhat to the side, and his eyes shot wide open. His gaze met Katsuki’s half-lidded eyes now that he was no longer in a dreamlike state, and seeing the way Katsuki was looking at him—waiting for him—made him realize Katsuki would’ve let him do it. He might have even wanted him to do it.

“You’re both doing fabulous!” the photographer called out to them, packing his camera into his bag and getting ready to leave. “I just got word that what we have now should be good, so we’ll stop there. Thank you for your time! Lock the door on your way out after you change.”

The pair stayed frozen in place, with Izuku’s arms around Katsuki’s neck and Katsuki’s hands resting on Izuku’s waist, while the photographer and his supervisor left.

“Kacchan,” Izuku cooed once they were gone. “Did you want to…?”

15- I'll Hold You In My Heart by InkspillsNotebook

"Someday, everything you own, everything you love... will be mine."

When a threat from the past comes to light, the budding romance between Prince Katsuki Bakugou and Prince Izuku Midoriya is put on hold as Katsuki struggles to save the love of his life, and Izuku puts up with being turned into a swan.

The Swan Princess (1994) AU

16- King Tide by warschach

Izuku meets a sea prince.

17- Play It Cool by warschach

Izuku accidentally becomes Katsuki's secret cuddle buddy.

(or that time Izuku and Katsuki snuggle on real pretenses then false ones, each finding a way to poorly miscommunicate their emotions cause what do these boys do aside of making carters in infrastructures and in each other, make the whole class of 1-A weep for them, and manage a romance to bring Ryan Gosling to the brink of tears.)

18- Boom, Badoom, Boom by warschach

Izuku's working the kissing booth at the school fair, it just so happens Katsuki has been crushing on him since the first grade.

“Did you—“ Izuku parted his mouth with no sound leaving it, “Did you pay?”

“Yea.”

“For a kiss?”

19- Bad Dog by Morpheel [Explicit, Omegaverse & Hybrids]

Katsuki Bakugou is a Wolf-Dog hybrid who has been returned more times than he can count.

His natural aggression and anger is excessive, even for an Alpha. Every time he's been purchased he's wound up blowing it one way or another. Yet when another chance comes around to prove his worth, he'll do whatever it takes to stay-

That is, until he runs into a minor roadbump. He isn't the only pet in the Asai household. When said pet is also an Omega, currently in the throes of his season, how the hell is he supposed to not blow it? (Literally).

20- Cafe Mocha by HG_Wells

Everyone has a timer on their wrist that appears when they turn thirteen, they can never remove it until the moment the timer reaches zero and you find your Soulmate. Izuku Midoriya works at a cafe in downtown Tokyo and he finds his Soulmate in the worst way possible.

21- Heartbreak Aftermath by HG_Wells [Explicit & Omegaverse]

After a harsh breakup with his ex-boyfriend, Todoroki Shouto, his friends decide to take him out to get his mind off things. A few drinks with a stranger turns into something more and he gets more than what he bargained for.

22- It's Better Than Drinking Alone by osakakitty [Explicit]

On the fourteenth of July, Izuku Midoriya's girlfriend called him to her place, and dumped him. And now, on the morning of the fifteenth of July, he woke up with a gruesome hangover and no one to celebrate the day with.

Or not.

Modern-day AU where Midoriya and Bakugo are strangers who meet in a bar, and then have wild and crazy sex later that night. The morning after, it's Midoriya's birthday, but he can't quite remember everything that happened. Bakugo is still willing to give him a present.

23- The Morning After 'The Morning After' by VRios

Izuku gets his keys back. Short epilogue to "It's Better Than Drinking Alone".

24- Fishy by warschach for DriftingGlass [Explicit]

Izuku’s convinced his hot co-worker/neighbor, Katsuki, is a mermaid-or merman- you gotta consider genders even with mythical creatures- and plans to prove it.

(or this is kinda like the show ‘Monster Quest’, except Izuku actually finds said monster, falls in love, and have sexy times.)

25- Piggyback by deanvspanties

I found this prompt and I wanted to do it for Bakugou's birthday but I'm a bit late:

Person 1 complaining about how long the walk to wherever is, and Person 2 constantly telling them to shut up and that they’re almost there. After Person 1 doesn’t stop complaining, Person 2 picks Person 1 up like a child and tells them that’s what they get for complaining like a child, and carries them all the way there.

“If you’re going to act like a fussy goddamned brat, I’m going to treat you like one.”

Really I just wanted to write adult Izuku getting a piggyback ride from Kacchan.

26- The last dragon-blood king by claimedbydaryl [Explicit & Omegaverse]

Katsuki Bakugou was the alpha heir to a forgotten throne, reigning lord and warden of the Fyre Isles, a famed warrior of vicious repute in the Western Seas, and he would be wed to Izuku Midoriya by the day’s end.

27- Storge by Mellosweet [Omegaverse]

“Hold on,” Aizawa said, his voice harsh as if he couldn’t believe what he was just told “let me see if I heard it right. You went to Midoriya’s house with Eri and Kouta, because they wanted to see him, but Midoriya is in heat. Then he called the kids his ‘pups’, took them to his bedroom, and now Bakugou won’t let you near the house?” “Yes” Togata looked up to the building behind him “What should I do?” Aizawa sighs “I am not paid enough for this.”

28- Where's the Fire? by InfiniteTeal

Uraraka is on a mission, a mission to find out whether or not Bakugou and Midoriya are actually together. The evidence stacks up to prove that they are, even everyone else she brings with her sees it, but there's nothing she can do when the couple denies the evidence.

29- Curse the Way to Heaven by InfiniteTeal

Midoriya actually knows how to swear, and Bakugou gets turned on at the simplest moments.

30- Head Game Strong by InfiniteTeal [Explicit]

Some of the students from class 1-A decide to go out to dinner together for the evening. Midoriya hadn't planned to joined them, but it's no surprise that he's under the table fooling around with Bakugou. It sounded like a good idea at first, but Bakugou has a hard time keeping it together when Midoriya gives him a secret blowjob while everyone else is sitting around him.

31- Kacchan's Piercing by InfiniteTeal [Explicit]

Bakugou is bombarded by his classmates about his not-so-secret piercing. He finds out about what the other classmates did to Midoriya, and decides that he wants to feel Midoriya's tongue piercing for himself.

32- Memorized by SchrodingersCat_DoA [Explicit & Fem!Izuku]

Stupid. It was stupid.

Bakugou leaned down and grabbed her scarred wrist to pull her to her feet. He made his way to the dance floor, dragging Deku behind him. He could hear her sputtering behind him, trying to find words to say, but failing.

As he reached the edge of the dancing mass, he turned to face Deku and pulled her into him. Her hands met his chest and fisted in his shirt, pinching some skin, but he didn’t wince. “There, now you have someone to dance with.”

33- Blonde Haired Bunnies by Morpheel [Explicit, Omegaverse & Hybrids]

In an attempt to create a new genetic pattern in the Rabbit-Hybrid Gene, Izuku Midorya is paired with a very strange (and almost unorthodox) stud. The end goal is blonde haired, red eyed rabbits- though only one Alpha truly fits that bill.

Surely a wolf and a rabbit can't breed?

34- Never Skip Leg Day by SecretKiwi [Explicit]

Deku loves leg day, and so does Katsuki- just in a different way.

35- F.U. by warschach [Explicit]

Izuku smiled; Katsuki understood why people warned that the devil wore a Sunday hat and fine clothes because deception worked better if no one expected it.

Not anymore. He knew Izuku’s evil ways, and his ass might be a 20 on the hotness meter but Katsuki held grudges.

“Izuku,” he sneered; he too could be evil right back.

(Or Katsuki's a football player; Izuku's a cheerleader; they have a rivalry until it isn't one)

36- A Rare Exchange by aideyn [Explicit]

"Oi Deku! Heard you're looking for some "Rare Might"~?"

37- How To Fall In Love With Your Enemy by Insomnia_Productions

When you find the soul that is perfectly matched to your own, any mark that appears on their skin will appear on yours, as well. Everyone knows that.

Midoriya knows it... but, somehow, he's never imagined it happening to him.

Bakugou knows it, too... but he doesn't have time for stupid things like that.

And, although both of them know that Fate is never wrong... there have got to be exceptions. After all, this match cannot possibly be anything but a mistake. Right?

38- One Exception by GreyLiliy

If you’d have told Katsuki when he was in middle school that every day after his shift he’d come home to Deku waiting with a soft smile and dinner, he’d have laughed and set off an explosion in your face. But Deku is stubborn, Katsuki was weak, and now they share a home.

Routine is broken, however, when a Villain makes himself known by taking the lives of Pro Heroes with no trace of motive. With the entire Hero community on edge, Katsuki can only be grateful that Deku has given up on his childish Hero dreams and is safe at home instead of in the line of fire.

39- Swipe Right by Cellaira [Explicit]

Kirishima had another stupid idea, and Katsuki had nothing to lose. Then, he discovered a witty, freckled, attractive stranger, and he had everything to gain.

(Like some damn good sex.)

In other words, the Grindr AU no one asked for but everyone secretly needed.

40- Matchmakers by Trashreciptical

When Katsuki agreed to be Jirou's wingman at a school dance for his students he expected to be bored out of his mind, he expected to laugh at his students suffering trying to communicate with the opposite sex, and he expected being subjected to shitty pop music all night.

What he wasn't expecting was the gorgeous teacher from the other school with forests in his eyes and stars on his cheeks....fuck he has it bad.

In which Katsuki is a chemistry teacher that is one explosion away from being fired and Izuku is the adorable english teacher from a different school, who sweeps Katsuki off of his feet and he doesn't know what to do.

41- Between ink and thorns by soulstring

There are a lot of things people are amazed at when it comes to Bakugou Katsuki. The thing that stands out the most – especially since it comes from a man with so little patience and an explosive temperament – is his unsuspecting love for botany. In an ideal world he would look after his flower shop and get paid for it without having to deal with an annoying element attached to his work; namely bother, namely aggravation, namely humans.

And that day, the worst of them is about to enter his flower shop and his life.

42- Daisies bunches and heather branches by halcyonwhispers

Izuku falls in love with the foul-mouthed tattoo artist next door.

43- Unknown Number: I Love You by Lillabelle

Opposites attract right? Well that's what Midoriya's friend, Uraraka, thinks. Her friend from another school talked about another guy, Bakugou Katsuki, and the two girls decided the two were perfect for each other. Now Midoriya is left with the number of a guy he didn't even know.

How bad could it be?

44- How IKEA Sells All Their Beds by thankyouforexisting

The next day, Kacchan turns on the cold water while Izuku is showering, resulting in a screaming match that the whole floor gets involved in, and soap bars starts flying everywhere, while Mineta throws his purple balls so that people can grab onto them and not slip on the wet floor, earning a “You’re not that bad, dude,” from Kirishima (It's a lie. Literally everybody hates him). Aizawa punishes them all by making them run laps for an hour the next morning.

Two days later, Izuku retaliates by lowering the thermostat until Kacchan can’t summon fire to burn his clothes, and Iida appears in the doorway holding a flag and shouting, “JUSTICE FOR CLOTHES! NO MORE DESTRUCTION OF FABRIC! WE MUST FIGHT THIS STRIKE AGAINST THE TEXTILE INDUSTRY, COMRADES!”

Kacchan rips the thermostat from the wall with his fire cannons and burns the flag, half of Izuku’s wardrobe, and his bed.//Deku and Kacchan are roommates, and everyone fears for their safety.

45- Yes, They're All Safe by teaandtumblr

Villains have entered UA grounds and are disposed of just as quickly, but that doesn't mean a headcount of the students doesn't need to be done. Toshinori would admit, he wasn't quite prepared for what he found in Bakugou Katsuki's room.

46- I’ll share this with you, so leave it behind by yabakuboi [Single Dad!Izuku]

For the sake of the story, All Might is never in need of a successor, and, when Izuku saves Katsuki from the sludge monster, encourages young Midoriya down a different path. Thus, Katsuki and Izuku part ways after junior high, as Katsuki enters U.A. and the Midoriyas move overseas. It’s later that Katsuki realizes that there’s something missing, that he drove that something away.

Years after, Katsuki finds him in the last place he looks, in the cereal aisle at the local grocery store of their childhood neighborhood.

47- Catharsis by dollcewrites [Explicit]

It's been six years since Izuku graduated.

It's been six years since he confessed to his childhood friend; his classmate and his inspiration.

It's been six years since he deleted Bakugou's number, asked his friends not to mention the name, spent every last effort of his heart turning off the TV and averting his eyes from the newspapers.

It's been six, long, long years since he gave up on Katsuki Bakugou ever loving him back.

48- Stopping All Stations by glamour_weeb [Explicit & Rape Fantasy]

Izuku begs Katsuki to roleplay as a pervert that feels him up on the train. Katsuki only agrees if Izuku wears a slutty school girl uniform. They both get a little bit too into it.

49- Go the Fuck to Sleep by glamour_weeb [Omegaverse]

Izuku can't sleep and Katsuki takes care of him aka Izuku is needy and Katsuki is whipped.

Takes place during the training camp.

50- Serpents by glamour_weeb [Explicit & Omegaverse]

Izuku goes into heat and leaves a trail of scent across Katsuki’s territory. When the Alpha catches his scent, he tracks Izuku down and mates with him.

51- Let's Get Closer Still by bionic_heehaw (nmhotel21) [Explicit, Fem!Izuku & Incest]

Izuku has a week to find out if her brother wants her the way she's desired him since middle school. After their parents come back from holiday, she probably won't have a chance like this again.

52- What’s up danger by The_Crafty_Cracker [Omegaverse]

Because apparently,The fic where Deku punches a bigoted entailed asshole Alpha in the face wasn’t an appropriate title.

Poor Katsuki has his handful with his mate nearly getting arrested, again!

53- Devil in Me by glamour_weeb [Explicit & Omegaverse]

Katsuki's usually the one getting into fights over Deku when they go to the club, but this time, his Omega's the one that starts a fight over him, but he doesn't stop there. Deku's determined to mark his territory.

54- You've Got Mail! by glamour_weeb [Explicit, Omegaverse & In process]

Izuku is a Quirkless Omega and Katsuki is an Alpha pro hero. Their paths might have never crossed if they hadn’t started using the anonymous mail service where Alphas and Omegas can buy and sell their clothes as heat/rut aids.

Izuku wonders if it's possible to fall in love with an Alpha's scent and Katsuki wonders if he'll ever meet the Omega that smells like his True Mate.

A very horny love story in three parts.

55- Pets take after their Owners by San121 [Explicit, Omegaverse & Hybrids]

Shouto and Eijirou are a loving couple, Shouto recently got a rabbit Pet and Eijirou wants his Katsuki to like his boyfriend's Pet. Katsuki does more than like.

56- Way more than a handful by Morpheel [Explicit, Hybrids & Trans!Izuku]

Izuku wasn’t quite sure what to expect in bringing a rescue to his home.

While most owners would pride themselves in adopting a mixed breed of dog, or perhaps a stray cat; Midoriya had completely bypassed the beginners circle and brought home a fiery wolfdog hybrid with a bad temper.

It... has up and downs.

57- Dii Consentes by Souzoshiyou [Explicit, Fem!Izuku, Torture, Gore and Blood & Slight TodoBakuDeku]

The two ran along the secret passage with Izuku running ahead, dragging Katsuki by the hand with giggles. The blonde looked at their joined hands before looking the heiress' back. God, he loves her so much. He'd do practically anything for her, even become her plaything if she wants. He had never met anyone that reflected and complemented him so much. He'll chase after her everywhere even to the pits of hell.

58- Wild Thing (You Make My Heart Sing) by Gezelligheid [Fem!Izuku]

A series of mostly unrelated one shots revolving around genderbent Izuku, mostly involving her relationship with our favorite hothead.

59- Earned It by Morpheel [Explicit & Omegaverse]

Because within the illumination of lantern light stood a brothel’s worth of Omegas, all in various states of disarray, giggling and washing themselves without a care in the world to the army in their path.

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Bakugou Katsuki wasn't expecting any interruptions in his conquest of the Capital. Let alone for that interruption to backfire.

60- When the sunset shifts by ser_problematique [Explicit & Werewolves]

Katsuki has a problem; Izuku is there to help him through it. Smutty fantasy au with werewolf porn.

61- ¡NO CULPES AL ALCOHOL! by GABY_NEKO [Fem!Izuku]

"Oh my god, did I steal Kacchan's virginity?!"

62- Maid You Mine by glamour_weeb [Explicit, Omegaverse & Hybrids]

“Welcome to Yuuei, Master!” A squeaky voice greets Katsuki when he pushes through the door of the Omega maid cafe, the little bell on the inside jingling, announcing his arrival. “Oh, hi, Kacchan!”

“Deku,” Katsuki growls back, his own fluffy golden tail flicking behind him irritably.

A hybrid AU where wolf Katsuki begrudgingly puts up with his obnoxiously cheerful coworker, bunny Izuku, until the day Katsuki comes into work and goes into heat.

63- The Piano Knows Something I Don't Know by oyasumi_yue [Fem!Izuku]

‘Intrigued’ is an understatement for the Bakusquad as they notice Bakugo Katsuki, a guy who has a tongue that could rival Satan himself, is refusing to eat spicy food.

64- Do You Know What I'm Seeing? by oyasumi_yue [Fem!Izuku]

Katsuki Bakugo prides himself with a headstrong attitude, his only goal is to be the best Hero, 'distraction' is not part of his majorly curse-composed vocabulary. But then, it all wavered when that purple perverted bastard made a comment about Deku's prominent body features.

Alternative Title: When Did Deku Become So Hot?

65- Little Bad Girl by SchrodingersCat_DoA [Explicit & Fem!Izuku]

Bakugou tossed the All Might sleep pants back on the shelf but held onto the oversized t-shirt. He let it fall open and brought it to eye level to study it. It was two sizes too big for Deku – at least in the terms of length. It was a simple grey t-shirt and soft – it was also a men’s shirt. As he was studying the shirt, the tag caught his eye. Bakugou adjusted his grip and brought the shirt closer to his face. He grabbed the tag and sneered.

On it was written T.S. Of course that Half’n’Half bastard would write his initials in his clothing.

Bakugou’s smirk fell from his face as it finally clicked in his head that Deku had a shirt that belonged to Half’n’Half. His blonde eyebrows pulled into the center of his face until they met and could go no further. The smirk continued to fall until it was twisted into an ugly grimace. The t-shirt in his hands started to singe as his Quirk fired off.

This wouldn’t do. No, this would not do at all.

66- Reflections by Kreativekilljoy

Where hero Bakugou Katsuki keeps having impromptu encounters with officer Midoriya Izuku.

67- Changeling by Souzoshiyou [Fem!Izuku & Attempted Rape]

'He's not an angel, nor a demon. I guess I can call him a ghost... But I prefer to call him a soul in need.'

In one whole month, how did they affect each other? Did Izuku help Katsuki? Did Katsuki help Izuku? We'll never know, but one thing's for sure; they changed each other.

68- Izuku and the Stag by Sarcastic_Metaphor

Katsuki is a god, a patron of war and a conqueror of nations. Trying to court a puny, green-haired mortal shouldn’t be giving him as much trouble as it is.

Meanwhile, Izuku lives in the forest and studies magic. All he wants to do is continue his work, but he finds himself continuously running into a strange, angry boy in the woods.

69- Please Scent Me by fleurown [Omegaverse]

In which Deku needs a quick favor at a party and Katsuki can't deny such a cute face.

70- Mamma Is Here by KurageMonsta [Explicit, Omegaverse, Non-Con & Incest]

Midoriya Izuku really really loves his son.

71- Thrill of the Hunt by DrProblematic [Explicit & Omegaverse]

It began the way it always did — Izuku running, and Katsuki chasing after him. Despite both knowing where it would inevitably lead, they persisted for the sake of the journey: for the thrill of the hunt, of being hunted.

72- Drabbles and drabbles by kacchansass [Incomplete]

A collection of writing prompts sent to me on my tumblr! Typically gonna be BakuDeku prompts, but other pairings may pop up as well. Not all will be canon compliant either!

73- I'm So Glad I Found My Mate Today by kittiegirl1616 [Explicit & Omegaverse]

Pro-Hero Ground Zero has captured a villain when he senses his mate is nearby.

74- Nesting - The Omega Superstore! by Swifty_Heart [Omegaverse]

Imagine a store that wall to wall full of the softest blankets, pillows, and gourmet food! A superstore where Omegas go for all their nesting needs!

75- His Reflection by CarCarWong545 [Omegaverse]

Forced into a life that doesn't feel like his own, what shall Izuku do when he meets a not too pleasant alpha?

76- Eternity by PeppermintLeo [Explicit & Omegaverse]

Izuku was Kacchan’s partner, in every sense of the word. He ruled right next to Kacchan’s side, an alpha and an omega, leading Kacchan’s tribe against all sorts of odds. As well as his romantic partner, steady and solid by his side but giving when emotions called for it.

Izuku has adapted to the ways of the barbarian tribe with the help of Katsuki Bakugou, the barbarian king. From the beginning, he knew their connection would be special, but he never expected the man to ask him to spend forever, and after, with him.

77- If you can't find the morning light, i'm here tonight by yabakuboi [Omegaverse]

“You’re still you.” Katsuki can’t look at him as he says it. “You’re still Deku, but you’re not useless. You got dealt a shit hand, but you didn’t give up. You’re strong as hell, and you always have been. I didn’t see it as a kid, but I do now.”

Katsuki swallows. There’s a sharp smell to the air, blossoming up from where Izuku sits across from him at the little breakfast table, and it smells like grief, but like relief. And when he meets Izuku’s teary eyes, he feels his heart thud heavily in his chest. Slowly, cautiously, he slides his hands across the table and takes Izuku’s into his own.

Katsuki was never sure what happened to his childhood friend, quirkless Izuku who had presented as an omega and was whisked away to a traditional matchmaking house. Katsuki never saw him again after that, and tried to convince himself it was for the best. Many lonely years pass before he finds Izuku in the last place he ever wanted to, in the middle of a battlefield with a child clutching to his shirt.

78- Katsuki and the Hare by GreyLiliy [Hybrids & In process]

While hiking in the forest, Katsuki finds a wild hybrid caught and injured in a hunting trap. He performs his due diligence to call for help, not expecting to see the hybrid again.

However, on future hiking trips in those same woods, he spots hints of green in his peripheral and before he knows it, Katsuki finds himself with a curious tagalong that becomes a part of his life in a way he could have never predicted.

79- Dogged Love by GreyLiliy [Hybrids]

While helping out his friend Uraraka with her work, Izuku notices the client’s pet locked in a kennel wearing a muzzle. Izuku’s chest ached with the desire to help and before he knew it, he’d gathered the money and bought the dog from the other man, becoming a pet owner for the first time in his life.

Katsuki, however, wonders how he went from having a bad owner to one that needed a master of his own to keep himself out of trouble.

As time goes by, though, Katsuki and Izuku find out they’re both exactly what the other has always needed.

80- A Burrow for You and I by GreyLiliy [Explicit & Hybrids]

Katsuki and Izuku grew up together as neighbors, a human and a hybrid that most would call the best of friends. But after an unexpected step forward in their relationship, Izuku backed away and put distance between them—too much distance.

When Izuku arrives back home after a year of absence, he makes sure Katsuki is the first to see the fruits of his labor.

81- Izuku's Home for Wayward Pets by glamour_weeb [Explicit, Omegaverse, Hybrids & In process]

Izuku works at the Bureau of Companion Protection as a rehabilitator for abused and abandoned Companions, animal-human hybrids. He’s seen his fair share of cruelty cases and even fostered a few Companions, but he’s never had a Companion of his own, until now. After rescuing Katsuki from a life in an illegal, underground Companion fighting ring, Izuku must take in the wolfdog that no one else can handle.

Eventually, Katsuki comes to love his new home, as well as his new Master.

82- Does your mother know? by setitoff

It's hard for anyone to impress katsuki bakugou, much less catch his eyes, really. so when izuku midoriya, their new english professor shows up, katsuki is more than a little interested.

83- My ex-man brought his new boyfriend by setitoff [In process]

izuku's desperate to get a date after being persuaded (forced, more like) to go for a family reunion back in his hometown, in which he will most definitely see his ex, todoroki shouto, with a date of his own.

in a last attempt to find someone, izuku asks for help and ends up getting bakugou katsuki.

84- Payphone by flowercafe [In process]

Izuku’s in trouble — like, SOS trouble. Lucky for him, he’s one phone call away from salvation. Hopefully his trembling fingers dial the right number, because it would really suck if he accidentally called a stranger right now.

The “I was walking home alone in the middle of the night and someone started following me so I ran into this phone booth with a lock on the door to call for help, but my hands were shaking so badly I accidentally dialed the wrong number and I don’t even know who you are but please help me" au — ft. a Quirkless Izuku whose misdial connects him to the personal cell line of pro hero Ground Zero.

85- For whatever we lose by kindaopps [Dubious Consent]

He locks the pelt up in a chest, and keeps the key hanging from his neck.

The boy's face was devastated, but Katsuki found even that quite beautiful.

86- Plucking the Heartstrings by K1NGKYO

Izuku never expected to become attracted to a customer in the cafe, but sure enough, Katsuki 'Boom Boy' Bakugou catches his attention. As he pursues a friendship with Bakugou, Izuku discovers he is secretly a popular horror writer, but what's most surprising is Bakugou's musical prowess.

Music without words can say many things and Izuku discovers how.

87- In A Sky Of A Million Stars (Who Cares If One More Light Goes Out?) by Stringlish [Suicide Attempt, Depression, PTSD & In process]

He could never forgive himself.

It was his fault.

He’d planted the idea like a seed he’d never known would grow.

(Or: What if Izuku jumped?) (OR: The one where Izuku jumps and lives and Katsuki visits him every day and Class 1-A not-so-secretly finds it adorable that their designated angry pomeranian brings flowers to his comatose childhood friend.)

88- Printer Daddy by deanvspanties [Explicit]

Izuku knows the only way to fix a broken printer is to buy a new one, but printer repairman Bakugou is here to exceed all of his expectations.

And there's nothing hotter than a guy who knows his way around a printer.

89- How to Train Your Shitty Omega by deanvspanties [Explicit]

Izuku will have Bakugou's knot. He's Izuku's alpha after all.

90- The Tale of an Extra by Anzul

In which Katsuki channels true holiday spirit by inviting himself to his former middle school classmate's party and then sitting in a corner glued to his phone. Psh, like his secret-not-so-secret boyfriend is having a better Christmas anyway.

(Someone please save his former classmate.)

91- You Ready For This? by sabasama

“You’re saying you wanna fuck?” “Oh my god, don’t say it like that!” “What? It’s the same thing.” “No, it’s not!” Izuku wailed; he couldn’t be alone on this subscription of thought.

92- warm hands by flowercafe

"Your hands are so soft," he blurts.

Katsuki gives his fingers a threatening squeeze. "What the hell, Deku? Are you sayin' there's a problem with having soft hands, hah?"

Izuku never thought that Bakugou Katsuki, of all people, would willingly give him a hand massage. But here they are, sitting knee to knee, with his fingers lying innocently in those explosive palms.

a 5+1 featuring copious amounts of massaging, a dollop of mutual pining, many ridiculous competitions, Izuku’s achy joints, and one very tactile Katsuki.

93- After Hours by Morpheel [Explicit & Trans!Midoriya]

Who would have thought school locker rooms were a bad place to get it on at?

Midoriya and Bakugou decide to wind down together after training past hours within U.A. Little do they know they weren't the only ones with the idea of staying after class. This could get pretty messy, pretty fast, if Bakugo can't brush off the fact he had Midoriya pinned to the shower stall.

94- Eat Your Damn Dinner by glamour_weeb [Omegaverse]

"Katsuki's been with Deku long enough to know the signs of when his Omega is about to go into heat. Hell, he’s more in tune with Deku’s cycle than the fucking nerd is with his own body. No surprise there, Deku’s always been absolute shit at taking care of himself. That’s why Katsuki's going to take care of him, like always."

Katsuki Bakugou is not whipped. He just likes taking care of his Omega.

95- As Fate Would Have It by ScientificallySinful (VampireGaaraCheesepuffs) [Explicit & Omegaverse]

Katsuki Bakugo had plenty of reasons why he wasn't mated yet, not that he was going to explain why to just anyone. But now, Ground Zero was running out of time. If he didn't find someone soon, he'd lose his position as a Pro-Hero and he'd never get to be #1. So, when he finds out there's a male Omega recently arrested for prostitution that's headed to prison if he too doesn't get a mate…well it must be fate.

Izuku Midoriya doesn't know if he should laugh or cry when his childhood bully shows up in front of his jail cell asking him to be his mate. He also didn't know if it was good or bad that Kacchan didn't seem to recognize him, but fate hasn't been kind to him before so why should it start now?

96- since some liar brought the thunder, the land is now deserted by baby345 [Omegaverse]

"17 years ago 5 omegas was each taught the act of espionage, when they graduated they were given careful instructions to follow their mission and regroup when the time came." the old man revealed casually. "omegas were often sought after by outside agencies especially as little kids because they were so much easier to mold and teach. they were perfect for undercover missions simply because they had the talent of being able to flawlessly work a room, nobody ever suspected the little omega in the corner of being a assassin until they were standing over them with a blade in hand."

"two of the omegas who excelled brilliantly in their training were code named flicker and cottontail or as you know them: Izuku Bakugou and Denki Shinso." He revealed.

Katsuki and Hitoshi whole world is flipped upside down when their mates are accused of being sleeper agents and are missing, trusting nobody but each other and the clues left behind they have no choice but to wonder what's the truth and whats a lie.

97- You Wonderful Motherfuckers by BeyondPhantomhive [Explicit]

In which the Bakusquad unwittingly get Bakugou and Midoriya together through a series of pranks.

98- torn fur, blunt teeth by SageMasterofSass [Past Non-Con]

After eight months of being collared, Izuku is finally free. But a dark, stormy city is no place for a lonely shapeshifter on the run.

99- Get on my Level by Mikacrispy

Bakugou Katsuki is a Pro Hero whose boss demands him to take an intern. Midoriya Izuku is a UA student who needs an internship. When the two of them are put together, they learn about what it truly means to be a Hero and what it means to be in love.

100- Just Like The Comics by brichibi

If this were anything like the comics, Izuku Midoriya being quirkless would be the norm while heroes would be treated as a rarity. As it stands, everyone’s got a super power, except for Izuku, of course. No worries, though, because he’s over it (nope) and has moved on to bigger and better things (again, nope) like working at a tiny comic book shop and indulging in stories where being able to lift a bus with your bare hands was deemed impossible until proven otherwise.

Oh, and running into your heroic ex-boyfriend? Also unlikely. But Izuku’s life isn’t like a comic book (maybe?) and Katsuki Bakugou is standing right in front of him: still perfect, still handsome, and still putting his combat booted foot in his mouth.

[Or: AU where Izuku works at a comic book shop because that’s as close to a hero as he’s gonna get, and Katsuki plays the part of heroic ex-boyfriend who is good at everything except winning Izuku back... maybe]

#bnha #midoriya izuku #katsuki bakugou #katsudeku #bkdk #bkdk fic #fic rec #ktdk #dekubaku #dekukatsu #my hero acadamy #boku no hero academia

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maevefiction · 6 years

Text

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 23

When we arrived at Estelle J Wilson, there wasn’t a parking spot to be had. Even those earmarked for funeral attendees were taken, and as we drove past the main entrance to head around the block in search of one for ourselves, there they were…news vans from local affiliate stations WWL, WDSU and WGNO. A few feet down I spotted the paparazzi, four or so as best I could tell, lurking and waiting.

I turned to Tom, smirking. “Weh-hel, THIS is going to be a lot more interesting that I anticipated. Apparently.”

He pulled into an open space two blocks down from the funeral home and put the car in park. His right arm rose, then settled on my shoulder, hand grasping the back of my neck, massaging gently. “You okay to do this?”

I shrugged, enjoying the way the fabric of my dress seemed to float around my arms. His massaging continued in spite of my movement. “I’d like to tell you to turn around and go back to the hotel, but somehow I don’t think me not showing up for my mother’s funeral would improve upon the situation. And I know I’ll have to talk, because, hey-o, I can’t even run past them. But, on the bright side, at least I had the sense to wear my yoga shorts underneath the dress so there’s no chance of a wardrobe malfunction during any of this.”

Tom laughed, lines appearing around his eyes, relaying the story of a man who enjoyed doing so and had for his entire life. “Thank god for small favors. If I happened to get a look under there at this point they’d all be in for far more of a show than they’re equipped to handle.”

“Dude. Was that supposed to help? Because…not helping.” I leaned over and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips, then opened my door. The ibuprofen I’d taken had helped immensely, and I was fully capable of walking without crutches, albeit slowly. Chances were that using them, though, might garner some sympathy from the press. Tom watched me pull them out of the car, eyebrows raised. “One, I can move faster if I use them. Two, I want everyone to feel sorry for me. Sorrier. Don’t ruin my moment, Hiddleston.”

“Perhaps I should carry you instead if it’s attention you’re seeking.”

“Not attention. SYMPATHY. If you carry me, people will feel LESS sorry for me. Not part of the plan. Plus, it’s like, two blocks and you’d fucking keel over. Also not part of the plan.”

He got out of the vehicle and came round to the passenger side, my messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “Thomas, you are a god among men, unashamedly carrying your woman’s purse.”

His eyes lit up, and he pointed at it. “This? This is NOT a purse, darling. THIS is a EUROPEAN CARRYALL.”

I raised my forearm up as far as the crutch would allow. “Nice. Second Seinfeld reference of the day. High-five.”

The palm of his hand connected with mine, tenderly, and our fingers twined together. “Remember, I’m going to be right there with you. And if you don’t wish to say anything, simply don’t say anything.”

“Um, I’m sorry…I’m supposed to be the one telling YOU that, yes?”

He grinned impishly. “Tables, Maude. Oh how they turn.”

As we reached the news vans, the noise began, seven people shouting out questions all at once, cameras and mics pointed in my direction. The cacophony caused my brain to shift into crisis management mode, and I stopped dead in my tracks. Tom stood at my side, transferring his weight from one foot to the other. My gaze moved from one reporter to the next, looking them straight in the eye. The noise died down, then out. I took a deep breath and began to speak.

“Hello there. How’s everyone doing today?” They turned to one another, shoulders shrugging, faces contorting into expressions of puzzlement, unsure as how to proceed. “Under normal circumstances, I’d be happy to give you all the time you need, but I’m running behind as it is and have in inkling that it would be just a wee bit disrespectful if I were to be late for my mother’s funeral service. That being said, I think I DO have enough time for one question from each of you.” I pointed to the young, dark-haired woman in the floral print dress holding a WWL microphone.

She cleared her throat, then motioned to her cameraman to begin recording. The other two crews followed suit, and I assumed the paps were recording as well. “Ms. Gallagher, do you have anything to say regarding your ex-husband’s arrest?”

I had plenty to say. So, so much to say…ninety-nine percent of it unsuitable for television. “First, allow me to mention that the Winchester family has been in my thoughts ever since I heard the news. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to have someone invade the sanctity of your home, where you’re supposed to feel safest. And someone armed…it must be terrifying. Mr. Bonaventura’s actions were deplorable, and I trust that the Louisiana justice system will dole out the appropriate punishment when the time comes. Next question, the gentleman from WDSU. And please, call me Maude.”

He was short, chubby and dressed in a tweed jacket that I was certain made him feel like he was in the ninth circle of hell. “Maude, is it true that he intended to break into your mother’s home but chose the wrong house in error?”

Suppressing the smile that fought to spread across my face was a daunting task. “That’s my understanding, yes.”

The reporter from WGNO didn’t wait his turn, and exceeded his inquiry limit within seconds. “Why would he need to break into her home? I’ve seen a copy of the will…it was to go to him, without question. Are you contesting it? Have you taken possession illegally? Did you lock him out? Is that why he did it?”

What a total douche canoe. I wanted to slap him, but stared him down instead as I prepared my reply. “Gosh, I think that was five questions, not one. I know, I know…math is hard, right? Anyway. My mother died intestate, which means the entire contents of her estate passes to me according to Louisiana law. The will that was in Mr. Bonaventura’s possession was revoked, and another was not created. You can contact her attorney, Bartholomew Stevens, if you have additional questions regarding the matter. As to why he did it, my guess is he came back to New Orleans expecting something, and when it turned out that something was actually nothing, he grew rather malcontented. Next question, you in the red T-shirt.”

He held out his phone to better capture our exchange, sun creating a halo around his blonde, curly hair. “Maude, is it true that Mr. Bonaventura cheated on you with your own mother, and that your father killed himself because of it?”

Tom muttered something under his breath, and I hoped I was the only one who’d heard. The inner calm I felt in the face of a question that would have caused a breakdown just days earlier made me feel damn near invincible. “Absolutely correct.” I pointed at the young Asian woman dressed in a bright purple track suit and pink Converse Hi-Tops. “You’re next, please.”

Her face was an expressionless mask. “According to Passages Hospice, you never visited your mother there prior to her death. Is that accurate, and if so, why?”

“Yes. That’s correct. As to why…my mother suffered from alcoholism and Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Though, in actuality, it was everyone close to her who did the majority of the suffering. Her cause of death was alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver. The last time I saw her was in 1998, when I walked in on her and Mr. Bonaventura during an intimate encounter. No-contact is a widely accepted method for dealing with toxic people in order to facilitate recovery. I was contacted by the hospice when she passed as I’m the only next of kin. Gal in the tank top…your turn.”

The tank top was an old-school wife beater, paired with khaki shorts that reached her knees. Her white- blond hair was short on one side, long on the other, with pink tips. “My sources tell me that you’re an alcoholic too. True or false?”

My jaw tightened. They’d obviously been speaking with ‘mourners’ in spades, and it was no surprise that a good number of people here still thought of me as drunkard Mary’s drunkard daughter. “In September of 1996, my boyfriend was killed in a car accident. Shortly after his funeral, I discovered I was pregnant. Soon after THAT, I miscarried. I found myself unable to cope with such profound loss and used alcohol to self-medicate. Since I honestly can’t say whether I wasn’t capable of stopping or just chose not to during the time I was drinking, alcoholic is probably an applicable term. I’ve been sober for seventeen years, though. Last question, gentleman with the man bun.”

He laughed briefly, then frowned slightly, as if he was reconsidering asking what he’d planned to. “Hello, Maude. I spoke with Mr. Bonaventura’s current wife, Anna Beth, this morning via phone. When I asked her how she felt regarding his arrest, she expressed relief and indicated that he abused her verbally and physically. Is that something you experienced during your marriage to him?”

I gave a curt nod. “Yes. It was. Unfortunately, it was something I’d endured for years in my own home prior to marrying Mr. Bonaventura, so it didn’t seem abnormal to me until after I removed myself from the situation. If my sources are correct, Anna Beth was very young when she met and married him, as was I. It is my hope that this incident will allow her to move on with her life, heal and find the peace she deserves. Okay, folks. Apologies, but that’s all I have time for. Thanks so very much for your cooperation.”

Man bun raised his hand, then pointed to my walking boot. “Maude, I’m pretty sure we’re all wondering how that happened. Would you mind…”

My eyes rolled skyward. “Damn, and here I thought you wouldn’t notice.” Laughter rang out. “I wore heels to dinner last night, and they got the best of me. Right down on my ass in the middle of the Palm Court Café. It’s just a sprain, two weeks and I should be good. Seriously, though…gotta go. You all enjoy the rest of the day.”

They stepped back and to the side, allowing us to pass. Four crutch swings later Tom appeared in front of me, the admiration in his eyes flooring me completely and freezing me in place. Two steps brought him close enough to lean in to kiss me, admiration replaced by ardor and fire, grasping the back of my neck with one hand, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth so forcefully that I came. It was a tiny orgasm, over and done in two seconds, but an orgasm nevertheless. His grip on my neck tightened, and I knew he must have felt me shudder. He deepened the kiss, and as our tongues met I heard camera clicks, faint, as if they were down at the end of a tunnel, far away. A distant repetition of ‘Excuse me, Ms. Gallagher?’ grew ever louder, finally snapping me back to reality. I pulled back, looked past Tom to discern the source, and was mildly humiliated upon seeing Reverend Thompson standing there. His face was as red as a cherry tomato, the flush extending down his neck and, I assumed, beneath his clerical collar.

He cleared his throat, hands clasped behind his back. “Ms. Gallagher, we’re about to begin. Follow me, please.”

Tom remained in front of me, a look of astonishment on his face as he mouthed the words ‘Did you…?’ I plastered a polite smile on my countenance, nodding at him as I addressed the reverend.

“Apologies, Reverend Thompson. Thank you for your patience. Lead the way.”

As we walked toward the entrance Tom fell into step beside me, whispering in my ear. “An orgasm. From a kiss. MY kiss. Man alive, I feel like a fucking rock star right now.”

My head spun in his direction, ponytail swishing back and forth across my neck in its wake, eyes narrowed. His mouth dropped open, then closed again as he reached out to touch my bare shoulder.

“Maude, I’m sorry, that was a dreadfully self-centered thing to…”

I grinned and shook my head, speaking softly as he removed his hand. “I’m just screwing with you, Thomas. That lip thing…it…DID something to me. Anyway. Allow me to assure you that you are a fucking rock star. MY rock star. And as an added bonus, it would have REALLY pissed my mother off to know that I was making out with the sexiest man alive at her funeral.”

“That’s not a title People magazine has bestowed upon me as yet, Maude.”

“I’m well aware of their prior woefully inadequate choices. But I just did.”

“And that’s infinitely more meaningful, of course.”

“Nice save, Hiddleston. If they don’t put you on the cover soon, though, they’re going to be getting some…calls.”

We’d reached the front door, and Reverend Thompson held it open for us. The service was being held in the same room as the viewing, and as we approached I could see it was packed well beyond its limit. After pausing for a moment to prepare myself to walk the gauntlet, I opted to do so without the crutches, resting them against the wall to the right of the doorway. Reverend Thompson motioned for us to enter before him, and Tom offered his arm. I gratefully accepted, and as we crossed the threshold all heads turned, row by row, gazes fixed upon us. Tom’s face was expressionless, the dark blue of his button down shirt reflecting in his eyes, black trousers sitting low on his hips, black leather tie perfectly knotted at his neck. Even less graceful than normal due to the height difference of my walking boot and my black Birki, I kept myself in check by counting the number of steps it took to reach the front of the room where the closed casket rested, covered in a blanket of pink roses. Two seats were vacant in the front row, on the aisle and next to Anne. The whispers began when we were halfway there, fifteen steps in. My head remained high, jaw firmly set, as I passed by the throng of people who’d decided attending the funeral of someone they hadn’t given the remotest shit about in order to obtain a firsthand account of the event so they could later spread any juicy gossip they managed to gather was an ideal way to spend a summer afternoon.

Tom continued to hold my arm until I was comfortably seated next to Anne, then took his place at my side. Anne patted my knee as Reverend Thompson half-jogged to the front and began. I put my right hand over hers and squeezed, and Tom reached out to take my left one in his. After the introductory portion of the service, I zoned out, Reverend Thompson’s voice becoming very similar to that of the adults in a Charlie Brown cartoon. All I heard was ‘wah wah, wah wah wah wah wah, wah wah’, and eventually even that faded away into nothing. Man bun’s words haunted me, and my thoughts turned to Anna Beth. I’d been strong enough to get away from Will on my own, but I’d actually had somewhere to get away TO, the funds to get there, AND enough to start over with. Those were luxuries she did not possess, and there were three children she’d need to support on her own going forward as well, another hurdle I hadn’t had to clear. Marrying at such a young age had more than likely put her in a position wherein she had little to no employment experience, and few marketable job skills…or none whatsoever. Though I’d intended to donate the proceeds of the estate sale to the Metropolitan Center for Women and Children, I found myself seriously considering sending them her way instead. It would have to be done anonymously, of course, and Barty already had a way to contact her. Part of me felt as if I’d be slighting the many to help the few, but in this instance it was personal. We had an ill-fated kinship, Anna Beth and I, born of lies emanating from a man who’d used us for his own nefarious purposes, violence and mental abuse his means of controlling us so we’d never dare to question a single blessed thing as he fulfilled his unscrupulous objectives.

The sound of the crowd around me rising to their feet derailed my train of thought, and I left my seat as fast as I possibly could, not wanting anyone to have the slightest indication that I hadn’t been paying any attention to the service. At all. Tom’s arm slipped around my waist, and we remained where we were until the rest of the room cleared. Anne offered to join us at the cemetery, asking to hitch a ride in our rental car as she’d taken a cab to the funeral. I was pleased to discover that the news trucks had departed, but the paps remained, photographing and filming Anne and I as we waited for Tom to bring the car round for us. At Greenwood it was just the three of us, the hearse driver, and the folks responsible for the interment procedures. I remained back at least fifteen feet from the crypt, silent the entire time, having already said my final goodbyes to the people who’d brought me into this world. We left for as soon as they began the closing process, and I looked back over my shoulder one last time as we made our way out of the garden, wanting this moment to be my last memory of my mother. Dead. Gone. Sealed inside a coffin, inside a mausoleum, never to speak new words that could hurt me ever again. And that was enough to shift the specter of the past from translucent to transparent…what used to only allow light to pass through while masking the details was now completely clear, entirely visible. The thing about the past is this…it’s always present. There’s no escape from it. You can run, you can hide, but it will inevitably find you. There is, of course, a better solution, one I’d finally been brave enough to attempt. Face it. Embrace it. Remember it. Learn from it. And, most importantly, try your best to not let it fuck your life up too badly along the way as you moved further and further beyond it.

Tom and I bid Anne adieu as we dropped her off at Café du Monde, then hurried back to the hotel so we’d have enough time to change, pack, check out, and arrive at the airport by four. Our flight was scheduled to leave Louis Armstrong International at five-thirty and arrive in New York at nine-thirty, and if the gods were feeling generous we’d be settled into my apartment an hour or so later. Or, I should say, our apartment. A foreign concept as far as I was concerned, but one that made me deliriously happy. And that was something I could totally get used to.

**************************************** The duration of our first-class flight was primarily spent sending each other naughty text messages, each one filthier than the last. Afterward there was much debate as to who started it, but I refused to confess even though I was guilty as sin. He was just sitting there, in his cargo shorts and white V-neck T-shirt, up against the window with the sun reflecting on his pretty fucking face, driving me insane.

The hollow at the base of your neck, right above your collarbones. My tongue needs to be there. Like, now. – M

Go ahead. No one will notice. We’re in the last row. – T

Hmm…is it me or did that make your nipples hard, Thomas? I can see them right through your shirt. Guess they’ll be the next stop for my tongue. – M

The first stop for MY tongue is going to be your mouth, Maude. Running it over your lips, your teeth, then thrusting it in and out over and over until your moaning alerts the passengers in front of us. –T

Back and forth we went, until the final exchange.

I’m going to work my cock into your ass, inch by inch, until I’m buried inside you. Then I’m going to slip three fingers into your pussy and fuck you with them as well, so I can feel my cock from the INSIDE through the oh-so-thin wall that gives both of us so much pleasure as I pound your ass relentlessly, my thumb massaging your clit until you want to scream…but since you can’t, I’ll be forced to cover your mouth with my hand in order to keep you quiet. – T

And just as you’re about to come, I’ll invite you to fuck my mouth. As soon as you pull out of me, I’m going to drop to my knees and suck your cock so hard you’ll see stars. I’ll sneak my index finger in my beside it at some point, get it nice and wet, then run it between your ass cheeks until I find that glorious pucker. My finger will keep moving round and round the rim as I keep licking at and sucking on your cock, loosening you up, stretching, until you’re ready…then in it goes. Then out, then in. Again and again. I’ll wait until I feel your rhythm start to falter, then I’ll press my finger down on that magical spot inside you and swallow you whole as your come shoots down my throat, hot and sticky. You’ll have bruises on your knuckles for a week from biting down on them so hard. – M

That broke him. He stood, put his hands in his pockets to hide his raging hard on as best he could, pushed past me and locked himself in the bathroom. When he returned he was smirking, and I’d thought I wouldn’t need to, but he kissed me, long and slow, and I found myself in the loo a few moments later, pants around my ankles as I attempted to rub one out so I could make it home without fucking him in the back of the car that would be waiting for us. Or on the plane. In front of everyone. My phone dinged, and I bent to pull it out of my pants pocket. He’d sent me a video he’d made during his turn, hand on his cock, jerking himself off, standing right in the same spot I was in now. That was all the inspiration I required, and then some. I deleted it as soon as I finished, then texted him to remind him to do the same. Even though his face wasn’t visible, it still wasn’t something that should be kept around. Despite the fact that I wanted to watch it a thousand more times.

As we circled LaGuardia, I began singing Frank Sinatra’s ‘New York, New York’. Quietly, I might add, until Tom joined in, then a good number of the other passengers in first class, turning it into an impromptu sing-along that grew loud enough as we reached the final chorus to warrant a shushing from the flight attendant. We disembarked, picked up our luggage, and found the driver holding a sign with GALLAGHER written on it. Tom had given the company my name in an attempt to avoid any unnecessary scrutiny, but it turned out to not make a difference as this was New York, where no one gave much of a fuck about how famous you were. I’d seen Madonna try to cut line at a bagel shop once, only to be rebuked none too gently by everyone already waiting, resulting in her taking her place at the back of the queue, laughing and saying she should have known better than to do such a thing on her home turf. There was not a single soul standing still as we followed the driver to the curb, everyone looking down and walking quickly as they sought to fulfill their own personal missions.

Forty-five minutes later we arrived at 250 Mercer Street in Greenwich Village/NoHo, a wide smile spreading across my face at the prospect of being home, growing ever wider when I turned to Tom and it hit me that for the first time since college, someone I loved was coming home with me.

He leaned over me, peering out my open window, craning his neck to see how high it went despite the fact that it was dark.

My hand found his thigh and settled there. “It’s 16 floors in some spots. Building was erected in 1888, renovated in 1979 and remained rental apartments until 1986 when it went co-op. My dad bought it in 1995, for exactly how much I don’t know. He signed it over to me for a dollar a few months later, and I didn’t pay any attention at all to the paperwork. Surprising, right? I’d have to pull the deed to find out the amount. Now it’s worth around eight hundred thousand or so, but I don’t care, because I am NEVER selling it. I’m on the 5th floor. And yes, there are elevators. Thank god.” I opened the door, stepping on my right foot gingerly. The pain was back, mainly because I was a fucking moron and not only forgot to take my ibuprofen but had packed it away in my suitcase instead of my carry on. The crutches were in the trunk, and the driver brought them around first for me, the followed with our luggage.

Tom came out on the curb side as well, stretching, arms up over his head, T-shirt riding up just enough to reveal his belly button and the start of his happy trail as he glanced around at the street signs and location. “The Village, yes?”

“Technically it’s right on the border of Greenwich Village and NoHo. Best of both worlds and all that. Washington Square Park is right over that way…” I pointed in the correct direction, but it looked like I was pointing at air since it wasn’t visible. “You can totally see it from my window.”

Tom tipped the driver, who’d brought the luggage right to the door for us when he realized it was way too much for one person to carry. The glass door opened towards us, and out stepped Murray Goldberg, my favorite doorman. His uniform was black, with gold trim and buttons, exactly the same as it had been when I’d moved in, and, according to him, as it was when he started back in 1987. He was in his mid-sixties, not much taller than I was, with thinning white hair and gold-framed John Lennon glasses.

“Well, well, well…look what the cat dragged in. If it’s isn’t Miss Maude Gallagher. You were supposed to be back for the July 4th weekend…how I worried and worried!” He chuckled as I half-embraced him, crutches tucked to my side with my elbows.

“Oh please. You are so full of shit, old man. You didn’t even notice I was gone. And besides, look what I brought back with me!” I released him and gestured to Tom. “Murray, this is Tom Hiddleston. Tom, Murray Goldberg.”

Murray glanced at Tom, then rolled his eyes at me. “So THIS is why you went AWOL.” He held his hand out to Tom, who shook it vigorously. “Nice to meet you, Tom. Welcome to 250 Mercer.”

Tom grinned. “Thank you, Murray. Pleasure to meet you as well.”

Murray looked puzzled for a moment, and I knew it had dawned on him that Tom was an actor, but he shrugged it off and poked my arm, suddenly switching to a thick Brooklyn accent. “Englishman, eh? Whatsamatta, New York guys not good enough for ya anymore?”

I snorted. “Nice. Offend him before he even has a chance to see the place.” We all laughed, and I pointed to my walking boot. “I’m injured. I don’t suppose you can dig us up a luggage dolly from somewhere?”

He shook his head at Tom. “Been back less than five minutes and she’s already a giant pain in my ass. Wait here.”

They loaded the cart while I watched, and Murray wished us a good night as we headed for the elevator. Tom wheeled it inside and I punched the 5 button quickly, hoping to avoid company. My strategy was successful, and less than a minute later the stainless steel sliders opened, my white apartment door visible from where we stood. It turned out that crutches were useful for holding elevators, but I felt completely useless as I watched Tom struggling to drag the cart up over the lip and onto the grey carpet.

I pointed to the left. “C503. That’s us, right over there.” Grabbing my messenger bag off the pile of luggage, I fished out my keys, put the correct one in the deadbolt, then pushed down on the handle. The door swung inward, and I reached in and flipped the light switch. I turned around to see Tom, his eyes wide and slightly misty. I grinned, leaned my crutches against the sideboard and threw myself at him, arms wrapping around his waist. “Welcome home, Thomas.”

****************************************

To the right of the door, behind the bathroom, was a metal staircase that led to the loft. Tom unloaded all the luggage there, then brought the cart back downstairs to Murray. I fumbled around in the sideboard drawers, looking for my spare apartment key. It was way in the back, buried under entirely too many takeout menus…all of which reminded me that I was starving. The stove clock said it was 10:55. Most of the Thai and Chinese places would be closing soon, but The Bagel Café/Ray’s Pizza was open, and they had a huge menu to choose from.

“New York, I have missed you so very much. Where else can I get breakfast delivered to my door in the middle of the night if I want? And cannolis. And cake. And…”

My musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. I opened it just a crack, peeking out and pretending to be wary. “Yes?”

Tom raised a brow and grinned.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

He feigned exasperation, arms crossed, frowning and tapping his foot.

“Oh, right. You’re that totally hot guy who followed me home from Hawaii.” I opened the door fully. “Well, come on in, I guess.”

Tom grabbed my waist, bending down to kiss my neck. “Totally hot guy wants to drag his totally hot woman to bed, but he’s suffering the effects of food deprivation and fears his performance will suffer unless calories are consumed forthwith.”

I passed him the extensive Ray’s menu, pulled my phone from my pocket and hefted myself onto one of the kitchen bar chairs, mentally noting that finding the ibuprofen should be next on my to do list. “Let me know what you want. I’m going to add my stuff to the order while you’re deciding.”

I ordered a Meat Lover’s Omelet with bacon, home fries and toast, an everything bagel with scallion cream cheese, a slice of strawberry cheesecake, a large orange juice and a large black tea with cream and sugar. Tom was still perusing the menu. I managed to be patient for a bit, but then leaned forward, putting my face between him and the paper.

He laughed. “Someone’s nearing hangry level orange.”

“Mmm, not quite yet but if you don’t make up your mind soon things may get ugly before the delivery guy gets here.”

“Well, no one wants that, do they? I’d like a large Irish Crème coffee, a cranberry scone, a Gone Bananas smoothie, a Greek salad and a deluxe cheeseburger with bacon, please.”

“Dude, your order is even weirder than mine. I’m impressed.” I entered his items and my credit card info, then pressed the submit order button. Forty minutes according to the website, which was unusually fast. I slid off the chair and stood on my left foot as I reached for the crutches. “It’ll probably be an hour before it gets here. There should be some water and soda in the fridge, though, in case you’re thirsty. I’m going to go scare up some ibuprofen so I can maybe walk upstairs at some point this evening.”

Tom shook his head. “No, stay. I’ll get it for you. Where is it?”

“In one of my suitcases. I think. All I really know is that I packed it.”

“Do you keep any here in the house?”

My mouth dropped open. “Well, shit. Yeah. The bathroom, cabinet under the sink. Wonder how long it would have taken me to come up with that? Oy. It’s the door behind you, on the right.”

He came back, shaking the bottle, then went around the corner into the kitchen, opening the stainless-steel refrigerator door and letting out a low whistle. “Soda, water, basic condiments and some whipped butter. Toss in some ancient moldy leftovers and a few bottles of beer and it would be identical to mine. Though mine’s just white. Not fancy and shiny like this one.”

He passed me a bottle of water across the counter, and I quickly swallowed two tiny red pills and stuck my tongue out at him. “It used to be much shittier, trust me. Back in 2011 everything was in such bad shape I said fuck it and decided to put the money into renovating it. Plus, I needed more storage options. For books. Want the official downstairs tour?”

“Indeed I do.”

I pointed at the kitchen. “Where you’re at…that’s the kitchen.” He smacked my hand gently and rolled his eyes. “Countertops are concrete, back splash is glass tile. Gas stove over yonder, mainly used for boiling water and reheating takeout food. Next to the fridge is a Fisher & Paykel DishDrawer. It’s a dishwasher, but it pulls out like a drawer and takes up a lot less space. We won’t talk about how much it cost. It’s embarrassing, and I didn’t really NEED it but damn, it’s really fucking cool. Don’t open it, though. I think I may have forgotten to do them before I left. After seeing my mother’s house I don’t like the cabinets as much as I used to, but at least they have stainless pulls instead of gold. Bathroom next.”

Tom rounded the corner and followed me the seven steps to the washroom. “You’ve already seen this. And you’ve looked in the cabinet under the sink. Hopefully there’s nothing too embarrassing in there, though I tend to keep most of that stuff in the loft. Floor is teeny tiny marble tiles, walls are subway tile, because, New York, and the shower is black glass tile. I love glass tile. I have no idea why, but I do. The overhead light in there is awesome…I abhor showering in low light. Can’t see shit. The fixture is a Grohe, and it’s got a rain head AND a massager. In retrospect, I would have gone with just the massager because the rain head gets water in my eyes constantly. And here we have a sink, and the excrement receptacle. Very exciting, no?”

He chuckled. “Excrement receptacle. I’m stealing that one, if you don’t mind.”

I waved my hand. “Sure, fine, why not. Now, let’s adjourn to the living area. To your left is the sideboard, where I keep all the crap I don’t have another place for. The mirror above is handy for making sure there are no boogers hanging from my nose before I leave the house AND for watching myself burn things in the kitchen. Up next are these very cool metal lockers that function as my coatroom and general storage. They all have a different combinations and I don’t know the two on the far end so please don’t turn the dials. To your right is a dining set that is not anywhere within the scope of my usual taste, but it was a gift from Anne when I first moved in and part of her parent’s estate so it remains. Recovering the seats in black leather made them more palatable. There’s a matching hutch on the wall behind it, which I use for books instead of dishes. The rug is from her, too. Sorry, am I rambling? Just let me know if you want me to shut up.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m enjoying this immensely. This…this is the place you call home. I want to know every detail, the how, the why, the significance of each and every thing and what it means to you.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, well, we’re only going to be here for three days and I did plan on leaving the house to do stuff so…anyway.” I gestured to the windows. “Those are eight feet high, the ceilings are twelve. There’s a remote on the coffee table that opens and closes the shades. Some people don’t mind parading around in the buff in front of the entire city, but I try to avoid it. Emphasis on TRY.” He laughed. “The bookshelves are custom…I designed them myself. Underneath are storage cabinets, which hold more books, my speakers, and some DVDs and CDs. The rug under the coffee table is also from Anne, and the white sofa…I have no explanation for it other than it had clean lines and metal feet. How it’s remained unscathed in light of my clumsiness is a mystery. The chaise part is pretty cool, though, and the TV’s on a swivel so I can turn it in that direction. Both pieces of art are things I found while traveling. The one by the windows was at an estate sale in Boston, and the big one is from a gallery in San Francisco.” I held my hands out to the side at shoulder level. “So, that’s it, I guess. If you turn around you’ll see the loft, and as soon as my meds kick in we can go up and unpack. Oh, wait. One more thing. Here’s your key.” I reached into my pocket, then held it out to him, allowing it to lay flat on my palm.

He lifted it slowly, the pads of his fingers brushing delicately against my hand, the connection creating a current of what felt like a thousand volts. It surged through me, and when I met his gaze he burst into tears. I wound my arms around him, crutches falling to the floor with a metallic whump, kissing each wet cheek in turn as my own eyes began streaming.

Wiping at his eyes with the back of one hand, his other arm around my waist, he smiled softly. “Wow. Sorry about that…I just…I…not even seven days ago I was certain I’d lost you forever and here we are, actually, finally in New York and you’ve welcomed me into your home…into your LIFE…and I’m just…I’m…so…so…GRATEFUL, Maude. And thankful. All that we’ve learned about each other, how much closer we’ve grown…which, honestly, I wouldn’t have believed to be possible, given how close we already were…I feel…unburdened. Lighter. Freer. I feel…ALIVE. So very much alive.”

His mouth was on mine before I had a chance to speak, and when he did the lip thing again I lost my mind completely. One hand was up my shirt, caressing my breasts first over then under my bra, the other down my shorts, inside my underwear, two fingers abruptly thrust inside me, pumping in and out. I glanced at the stove clock as I undid his zipper and wrapped my hand around his throbbing cock. It read 11:25. At least fifteen more minutes before dinner arrived. Plenty of time.

He whimpered pitifully as I began stroking him, voice breaking when he managed to speak. “Oh…Maude…I wanted to wait and take my time but…ohhhhh, GOD…I’m afraid I’m more than a little desperate for you, my love. May I have you, please? Now?”

I walked him backward toward the coffee table, fumbled for the remote and hit the button to close the shades, then grabbed waist of his shorts and pushed them down over his hips until they fell unceremoniously to the floor. He did the same with mine, dragging my panties with them, pausing to allow me to lean on him as he lifted my right leg to pull them over the boot. Our mouths met again, mine open and waiting for his tongue. His kiss was at first gruff, then yielding, gasping as I sought to imitate the forcefulness he’d displayed when sucking on my lip, pulling his into my mouth with a ferocity I hadn’t known I possessed. I felt myself being lowered onto a surface, which I assumed was the chaise portion of the couch, but wouldn’t have cared if it was a bed of nails.

Suddenly his weight was upon me, cock hard and leaking against my entrance. He broke the kiss to hold my head in his hands, our foreheads almost touching, gazes locked. “I love you, Maude. I will love you all of this life, and in each and every one that follows. I will love you as the world turns to ash around us. I will love you as the universe collapses into itself, and in the blackness of the eternity that awaits, I will remain, with you, at your side, holding your hand, never to let go. This love…it knows no bounds. It is forever. Two souls made one, together unto infinity. I love you. I love you.”

He shifted his hips, pushing himself inside me, slowly, stilling when he hit bottom, and I wept against his shoulder, hands at his waist under his shirt and grasping his hips. He wrapped his arms around me, hands in my hair, his lips on my neck, kissing every spot over and over.

“I love you, Thomas. Never let me go. Please. Never let me go.”

We began moving together, all gentleness cast aside as we raced at breakneck speed to feel the completeness that resulted only when the physical and the spiritual combined. His hips slammed against mine so savagely I knew I’d wake tomorrow to bruises, and my hands moved further up and under his shirt, fingernails digging in, then raking down his back as the head of his cock nudged my cervix and I came, pleasure and pain intermingling, a chasm opening and suspending us in a single instance of time and space as I felt his cock pulsing in tempo with my walls, then erupting its liquid fire inside me, like a volcano buried deep in the ocean floor.

The only sound in the apartment was our breathing, both of us panting and gasping. Tom rose up on his elbows, conducting a visual inspection to determine if I’d incurred any damage.

“Fuck, Maude…I’m so sorry…that was positively barbarous of me…are you all right? And your ankle…I forgot about THAT altogether…”

I placed my palms on his chest. “Barbarous is a bit harsh, don’t you think? I’d go with delightfully uncivilized. Either way, it was electrifying. And I’m fine. How’s your back, though? Let me see.”

“My back? Why?” He whipped his shirt off and slipped it under me as he pulled out and turned around. Eight welts stretched from his shoulders to his waist, four of them bleeding in spots.

My hand flew to my mouth, dampening a loud gasp. “Now that there, THAT’S barbarous. You. Are. Bleeding.”

He craned his neck to see behind him, then got up and went to look in the sideboard mirror. I got up, and hobbled over to stand next to him, clad only in my T-shirt.

“Tom…shit…I’m like…SO sorry. Yikes. I’ll go get some peroxide…”

He started at his reflection, head tilted, puzzled. “I didn’t feel that. At all.” As he turned around to face me, his hands reached for mine, grasping them. “What I DID feel was you. Us. I want you to know, Maude, I meant every word of what I said. Every word.”

“I know. Thank you. I…I…I’m not sure if I can formulate a reply that would convey my own feelings adequately…”

A kiss cut me off, his tongue forcing its way past my lips and teeth to reach mine, and when he pulled away he pointed at the couch. “You already did, my love.”

The blush began in my already flushed cheeks and spread all the way down to my breasts. My gaze shifted from his face to the floor. “Oh.”

Tom chuckled. “Suddenly modest, are we?”

I let go of his hands in order to cover my face. “Oh. My. GOD. Shut. UP.”

He roared with laughter, the sound echoing in the open space that surrounded us. I turned on my heel as quickly as my injury would allow and opened the bathroom door, looking back at him over my shoulder.

“I’m still going to get you some peroxide, in spite of the fact that you’re a complete and total asshole.”

The laughter continued as I searched the drawer, then abruptly ceased as someone knocked on the door and loudly announced ‘delivery for Gallagher’.

I took off my T-shirt and tossed it to Tom. “Here, put this on. And don’t forget your shorts. I’ll hide in here. There’s tip money in the dish on top of the sideboard.”

Figuring I might as well pee while I was in there, I giggled as I sat down on the seat. “Excrement receptacle. Damn, I’m fucking hilarious.” I could hear Tom thanking the delivery guy as I finished up and washed my hands, followed by the sound of the door closing. He was in the kitchen when I came out, removing the food from the bags and placing it on the counter, sorting it into two piles. I put my underwear back on and dug a T-shirt out of my luggage. There was no way to be sure whether it was clean or dirty, but it passed the sniff test so I deemed it wearable.

We ate at the dining table, him snatching half my bagel and a good sized chunk of my omelet. The cheesecake and the scone went in the fridge so we’d have something on hand that passed for breakfast, and as he loaded the silverware into the dishdrawer (which had been empty, thankfully) a yawn escaped him, so powerful he dropped the fork he’d been holding.

I bent to pick it up, remembering he’d been up hours before I had. It seemed a physical impossibility that the press encounter and funeral had occurred earlier that same day, and suddenly all I wanted to do was lie down with him snuggled against me. He closed the drawer and pushed the start button, and I reached for his hand.

“Come on, you. Time for sleep.”

He let go, shaking his head. “We haven’t unpacked, nor have we texted Luke and Simon to let them know we arrived safely and to find out if they have as well, and we still have to call Norman…”

I grabbed my phone from my shorts, which were still on the floor where he’d dropped them. “There. Luke and Simon texted. Where’s your phone? Let’s text Norman, too.” He passed it to me. I typed quickly.

Hey – just wanted to say thank you for reaching out, and no worries. The internet, as they say, is forever. Appreciate you noticing and providing clarity as to the source. Hope filming the rest of the season is going well. Best, Gallagher & Hiddleston

I turned the screen so Tom could read what I’d written.

He nodded. “That’s perfect. Thank you.”

I hit send, set my phone on the sideboard and turned off the downstairs lights. “Let’s go. Move that ass.”

He snorted and followed me up the stairs. It felt like it took forever with the stupid boot, and I dreaded having to pee during the night. I turned back the covers, then stood by the dresser at the bottom of the bed and removed my shirt and panties, Tom’s arms winding around my waist from behind, holding me in place so I didn’t fall over as I wrangled the underwear over the boot.

His voice rumbled in my ear. “So, this is where the magic happens…”

“Ummm…if you’re referring to solo magic, yes. Lots of it. But other than that, no. Not in a long, long time, anyway.”

His grip loosened and he stepped back, silent until I turned around.

“Maude, I’d forgotten he lived here with you…I’m…”

I raised my hand to stop him. “Shush. There’s no longer room in my heart, or my head, for anything other than what’s right in front of me. What happened can’t be changed, nor would I want it to be. Life is meant to be experienced in the moment. If you dwell on the past or focus on the future, you miss everything in between. Trust me. I know. And I’m so very, very done with missing out. Now get those clothes off.” I held out my right arm, palm up, towards the platform that held a queen size mattress. “This way to my bed, sir.”

#your light in the mist #chapter 23

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chlostertalks · 6 years

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The Raised Fists at Mexico City 1968: 50 Years Later

This is part of a series to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the social justice actions at the 1968 Olympics at Mexico City.

IT HAPPENED OCTOBER 16. Well before I was born on this day, and during one of the most violent years in American history, would come an event that would emphasize the fight for equality.

For those like me who were not of the 1960s, it is very hard to fathom all that happened in America and around the world in 1968. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Bobby Kennedy were assassinated. Tensions flared, and riots raged across the country. The Vietnam War was under way, and NASA used space exploration to combat the Cold War. Around the world, apartheid, the Chinese Revolution, and Australia's Stolen Generation were just a few of the major issues at the time. Television, film, and entertainment continued to evolve, and Bob Dylan and Marvin Gaye were among many artists who used their platforms to chronicle and critique the era.

Athletes would also use their platforms to critique the era. In 1967, Bill Russell, the first black coach to win an NBA title, would join Jim Brown, Lew Alcindor, and Muhammad Ali at a summit in Cleveland amid Ali's draft evasion trial.

All this and more would serve as the backdrop for an autumnal sports fortnight in 1968.

The Games of the XIX Olympiad would be the only Olympics south of the United States until 2016. Mexico wanted to put forth the best its capital city had to offer during the Games, but had tensions on its own soil. Days before the Opening Ceremony, the government opened fire on college students mid-protest in what is known as the Tlatelolco Massacre.

Felipe Muñoz would win the 100m breaststroke and win his country's first gold on home soil. George Foreman defeated Jonas Cepulis in a Cold War showdown. The US track and field team set eight world records, including Bob Beamon's 29-plus-foot long jump. Dick Fosbury would even teach the world how to high jump backwards.

Estadio Olímpico Universitario hosted the fastest men's 200m final at that time. Tommie Smith briefly nursed a muscle pulled during the semifinal. Peter Norman of Australia held the world record heading into the final; had he run that race this millennium, he would have earned bronze behind Usain Bolt at the 2009 World Championships. Smith would rely heavily on his technique to win the race at a world-record time of 19.83. He was the first person to break 20 seconds in the event, and the only athlete to hold world records in 11 different track and field events simultaneously.

Memories of not only the race, but the entire 1968 Summer Olympics is summarized into the most iconic image of the 20th century.

Left to right: silver medalist Peter Norman (AUS), gold medalist Tommie Smith (USA), and bronze medalist John Carlos (USA) on the medal stand after the men’s 200m final. Associated Press (via Smithsonian Magazine).

In what is known universally as the Black Power Salute, Smith and Carlos, both running for Team USA, raised gloved fists in the air on the medal stand during the national anthem. Smith, Carlos, and Norman wore buttons in support of the Olympic Project for Human Rights. Norman, who heavily participated in the Salvation Army in Australia and wholeheartedly believed in human rights, received his button from American rower Paul Hoffman.

Smith spoke with conceptual artist Glenn Kaino and moderator Michael Rooks at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta September 29, clarifying that it was not a Black Power salute at all. "It was called the Olympic Project for Human Rights, not civil rights," he said. "That human part covers everything–man, woman, and all ethnicities, religions, and so forth. It was a viable way to move everyone into a direction of their own belief, their own artistic belief." He adamantly repeats his statement in his autobiography, Silent Gesture.

However, it is easy to confuse the gesture as a Black Power salute. In an interview with ABC's Howard Cosell, Smith spoke of Black America, as quoted in Silent Gesture. "My raised right hand stood for the power in Black America. Carlos's left hand stood for the unity of Black America. Together, they formed an arch of unity and power. The black scarf around my neck stood for Black pride. The black socks with no shoes stood for Black poverty in racist America. The totality of our effort was the regaining of Black dignity."

Regardless of interpretation, the Olympic Project for Human Rights (OPHR) had its roots planted in San José, California. Again, America was amid a turbulent time in the 1960s, and it was no different in California. The Free Speech Movement took place at the University of California at Berkeley; Los Angeles saw the Watts riots; and two years and one day before the gesture, Oakland became the birthplace of the Black Panther Party. San José State College (now University), known as Speed City for its world-class men's track team, would make its presence known in American history when Dr. Harry Edwards founded OPHR.

Edwards was a senior when Tommie Smith was a freshman at San José State. He would later become a sociology professor on campus. Like Smith, Lee Evans and East Texas State (now Texas A&M Commerce) transfer John Carlos became involved with the project. The project clearly stated its objectives, from the reinstatement of Muhammad Ali's WBO title to the removal of South Africa and Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) from the Olympics. The organization even called upon the removal of IOC President Avery Brundage.

To date, Brundage is the only American to head the International Olympic Committee. He finished behind Jim Thorpe in the 1912 Games in Stockholm. He became a member of the committee itself after persuading America not to boycott the 1936 Olympics in Nazi Germany. In addition to his new promotion, Brundage would also build the Nazi German embassy in Chicago, as commissioned by Adolf Hitler himself. He even expelled two Jewish athletes from Team USA.

Brundage in 1972. Stripes.com.

Athletes and entertainers had mulled over an Olympics boycott for years, starting with comedian Dick Gregory. Talks became more serious at the Western Regional Black Youth Conference in November of 1967. Harry Edwards, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and Stokely Carmichael spoke at the Los Angeles event. Dr. King even wanted to serve as advisor to OPHR. Athletes, including Smith, Evans, and UCLA standout Lew Alcindor, converged here to vote on boycotting the Games. The Black Power Salute documentary features Smith’s discussion about the boycott during the 1967 Universaide in Tokyo: "A boycott is possible, and it’s probable. The reasoning is, why should we participate for a country–and for 100% effort–and come back to our homes, and are denied some of the rights that should be given [to] us?”

The result was unanimously in favor of a boycott, but it never came to fruition. Most black athletes boycotted a major meet at the New York Athletic Club during its centennial year. As the Games drew near, however, athletes debated inner fears, outer threats, and for some, the potential of being court-martialed as a result of jeopardizing their military service. Ultimately, Edwards would publish an article called "There Are Many Ways to Boycott," and, as mentioned in Black Power Salute, said that everyone is free to do what their commitment permits them to do. Just before the Games, Brundage commented on the matter: “A boycott would only be to the disadvantage of the boys themselves. I don’t think any of these boys would be foolish enough to demonstrate at the Olympic Games, and I think if they do, they’ll be properly sent home.”

Black athletes won over 1/3 of Olympic medals post-World War II, but were treated as second-class citizens. Though he competed before the War itself, Jesse Owens became a household name for winning four gold medals in the face of Hitler. Though he was celebrated in his return to America, he struggled to make ends meet. He lost his amateur status after Berlin, and resorted to racing horses for money. This same Jesse Owens that, regardless of intention, made a political and racial statement by competing in the Nazi German games, would later denounce making political statements on the world's biggest stage: “I deplore the use of the Olympic Games by certain people for political aggrandizement. There is no place in the athletic world for politics.”

Harry Edwards, who did not attend the Games due to threats from the FBI, noted that “sport inevitably recapitulates society.” In his autobiography, Smith talks about the responsibility to use his athletic platform to drive social change: "What I believed, instead, is that you take what you do best, which for me was running in track and field, and use it as a platform for something good, to get something done. The Olympic Games was a part of a platform that I was able to use because of what I had accomplished, to make people realize what's going on in this country. You can't not use it."

All on the victory stand suffered greatly after supporting the Olympic Project for Human Rights.

After the salute, Brundage sent Jesse Owens to talk to the American athletes. The IOC would send Smith and Carlos home, and the two were never allowed to race for Team USA ever again. Though his Olympic performance stands as the 200m Australian record to this day, Peter Norman was not invited to join Team Australia for the 1972 Games in Munich. He subsequently retired from track and field. Though Smith would participate in the Olympic Torch Relay for the 1996 Games in Atlanta, Norman was not even invited to participate in celebrations for Sydney 2000. Norman died in 2006.

Smith and Carlos faced unemployment, even when trying to take care of their wives and kids. Both faced tough personal losses and familial strains. Though they are not close as people would seem to believe, the two would rebound similarly with teaching and coaching tenures. To this day, Smith fears dying as a result of his protest on the medal stand.

In the present day, a larger-than-life statue of Smith and Carlos is on the campus of San José State University. Harry Edwards founded the Institute for Sport, Society, and Social Change on campus as well. Both Carlos and Smith reside in Georgia.

Dr. Harry Edwards (right) speaking in 2016. Behind him is the statue of John Carlos (left) and Tommie Smith (center) on the campus of San José State University. San José State University website.

It is very easy to compare the salute to the kneeling of Colin Kaepernick, Eric Reid, and other football players of this decade. Similar sacrifices have been made, and similar repercussions have been faced. Though Reid recently joined the Carolina Panthers after months of unemployment, Kaepernick has yet to return to a professional football field. Smith, Glenn Kaino, and Kaepernick met in 2017 in New York to discuss the similarities among the protests.

Eric Reid (left) and Colin Kaepernick (right) kneel during a San Francisco 49ers game. Mike McCarn, Associated Press (via ABC News).

It happened October 16. The photo is still widely recognized around the world. The patterns between the protest of 1968 and those of today are clear that this country has come a long way, but has a long way to go. Continuing the fight may require all-out unity. Continuing the fight may require doing what commitments allow people to do, in Edwards' words. Regardless, it will require being uncomfortable and standing for positive change amid fear and backlash.

#tommie smith #john carlos #black power salute #mexico 68 at 50 #mexico city 1968 #olympics #track and field #colin kaepernick #eric reid #i know my rights #san jose state spartans #written work

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dingoat · 6 years

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The Right Way | Part Fifteen

[ previous | the beginning | next ]

Honestly, with Ulfran no longer having any regard for the long-term implications of abusing his use of the Force, and Ahuska’a’s utter delight in wreaking chaos and taking lives, breaking into the facility in which Kassandra was being held was almost too easy. Truly, they brought out the worst in one another.

The stir they’d caused in the upper levels left them reasonably free to seek passage to the wing they intended to break Kassandra out of; a few sharp bolts of lightning and a couple of slit throats quickly silenced guards and prisoners alike who tried to make their way more difficult. They felt invincible, and behaved as though they were.

When he finally saw her, Ulfran very nearly derailed their plans entirely. A snarl fixed upon his face and blue-tinged electricity crackled once more at his fingertips; only to be cut short with a savage cry of pain as Ahuska’a’s whip slashed against his hand. “You---!” he seethed, rounding on her, only to be whipped again to the sound of an infuriating bark of laughter.

“I saw that! Whatever business you have with her though, doesn’t matter now. You know why we need her.” The Bothan sneered at the man, who conceded her point but not without buffeting her back with the Force, just once. Her expression snapped to a glower, as it always did when he used what was, ultimately, a superior power against her, and she pushed past roughly to stare at the Chiss behind the containment field they now faced.

Kassandra stared up at the pair, not comprehending, a bubble of fear welling up in her chest. The fangy grin that leered at her through the purple tinged energy field was hideously unsettling, as was the harsh red gaze of the furious looking man just a step behind.

“Oh, hello,” Ahuska’a crooned as though meeting a new pet, tilting her head and waving a hand toward Ulfran. “Go on, lower the field. I want a better look at her. How do you two know one another, again?”

“We don’t…” Kassandra said quickly, backing up into her cell as the field went down, her own glowing eyes wide and reflecting her fear. She’d relinquished control of her life a long, long time ago, and had survived simply by keeping attention off her back, with obedience, raising the ire of neither her guards nor her fellow inmates. “I’ve never seen him before. Who are you? What… what are you doing…?”

Ulfran clicked his tongue and shrugged. “You mean to say Lyrisal never mentioned me…?”

Kassandra stared, squinted at him, even while she cringed away from the Bothan with the frighteningly hungry eyes who stalked ever closer into her space. “I don’t… know?”

“Not once. She never brought up the dearest friend of her training days?” Did he actually sound a little hurt?

Slow, disbelieving recognition dawned on the Chiss’ features. “Kane?”

“Ulfran, now,” he snapped abruptly, like the sound of his old name was physically painful, “…but yes.” A thread of satisfaction wove its way back into his tone.

Fear struck at her more sharply as the possibilities began to circle her imagination. Was this revenge? But the Bothan had said... “It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault, surely you don’t blame me for what happened, look at me! You left, you left, you great hypocrite, you can’t hold it against her for wanting-“

“Shhhhh shh shh,” Ahuska’a tapped a finger to Kassandra’s lips with a lazy smile, while Ulfran simmered behind her. “Hush, little puppy. We’re not here to harm you. In fact, you’re going to help us!”

The Chiss swallowed hard, flinching away, only to find her chin caught up in the Bothan’s clawed hand.

“We’re going to fix everything,” Ahuska’a purred, having put all the pieces into place and feeling quite thoroughly smug about it. She lifted Kassandra’s chin and stared at her thoughtfully. “And once we have, you two can fight over Lyrisal all you want.”

Kassandra made a tiny gasp. She didn’t understand any of this, but was suddenly desperate to know more.

In the timeline where Crow turned left, Ahuska’a, Ulfran and Kassandra plotted to raid the Ve’lora family vaults. In the timeline where Crow took the right path, however, Ulfran plotted alone.

He was working for the Kor’var family, under the arrogant thumb of the head of the household, Lord Hadrex. He was a peculiarly eccentric Bothan with a fondness for dark artifacts and an eagerness to ally with the Sith Empire quite uncharacteristic of his species. That being so, it was an easy matter for Ulfran to find his way onto the Bothan’s staff, and even easier to coax information from the him. Ulfran barely had to tickle his thoughts, so willing was Hadrex to wax on Sith philosophy and include an actual, genuine Sith in his plans.

As all self respecting Bothawui citizens did, Hadrex sought power. And the road to power he pursued was profoundly useful to Ulfran, as Hadrex had a pact with the terribly wealthy and influential Ronan Ve’lora after saving his life in their youth. Ronan, claiming to be forever indebted to him, promised the hand of his first born in marriage to the Kor’var line… but Ronan had a single son, and Hadrex had only managed to sire sons himself. He was desperate for a daughter.

It didn’t take long for Ulfran to piece together the fact that it wasn’t just political power that Hadrex was vying for- he, too, was after access to the Ve’lora vaults. Possibly for the exact same artifact Ulfran was. Suddenly his job was not just to secure the Shard; but to beat the unscrupulous, power-hungry Bothan to it.

Time was wearing on. If another year passed without a viable heir being produced, the Bothan Council would step in and nullify the pact, at no shame to the Ve’loras, for the good of the family. Hadrex was running out of time, and had begun seeking out less than legitimate ways to marry into the more prestigious family. And Ulfran was helping him. Find a Bothan; somewhere, out in the galaxy. No records, no traceable lineage, preferably little to no attachments… falsify some DNA sampling, and present her as a long lost heir, a youthful dalliance between Hadrex and household staff. The small burden of shame would be far outweighed by the benefit of taking on the Alora Clan name.

Ulfran, of course, saw this alliance as his way in to the fiercely protected Ve’lora family vaults… until, he realised who the young Bothan that Hadrex had discovered and set his sights on was.

For a man who’d shrugged off so much throughout his life, who had faced torments and darkness with his head held high, who’d helped excuse all manner of deplorable things, oh, it had been a long time since he’d felt such dread in the pit of his stomach. When he was shown the snippets of security footage sliced from a Mos Ila patrol droid, when he saw the little blonde Bothan being shielded from blaster fire by… by them…

“I beg you, my Lord,” Ulfran tried to keep his voice level as he pleaded with Hadrex, wincing inwardly at having to refer to him as such. “Don’t pursue this. This target will only bring trouble.”

SMACK.

Hadrex’s gloved hand backhanded Ulfran across the face, as he responded with a snarl. “Not if you do your job right, Sith. I don’t pay you for your opinions…”

Ulfran stepped slowly out of reach, and kept his flashing eyes averted. “But my counsel is not unfounded. I know who you’re about to cross, and if she is anything like the rest of them… there’s a reason we wanted minimal attachments…” he was cut short by another advance from the dark furred Bothan noble, the threat of another slap.

“So do not cross them! Make them believe there is no hope, I know you are capable of that. I want this girl, and you will deliver her to me posthaste.”

That wasn’t the only time he’d tried to persuade Hadrex to another course of action, but the Lord would have none of it, having become utterly fixated on Ahuska. Still, if he performed the job neatly enough, perhaps he could still see this through. Find the girl, have her marry, get in the good graces of the Ve’lora family and access their collection… and be gone, before Lyrisal’s damned crew inevitably discovered the truth and came searching. Perhaps he could avoid their wrath.

But he did not perform his job neatly at all.

He vastly underestimated the strength of Crow’s mind, when he tracked the Bounty Hunter down and tried to pull enough information from his head to pre-empt his and Ahuska’s future movements. No subtle in-and-out from the shadows; no, Crow had picked up on Ulfran’s presence near immediately, and the two men had locked in physical battle. Ulfran had staggered away less two fingers and a thumb, half burned, his own memories a shambles, mixed with what thoughts he had managed to pluck from Crow’s head... but most dangerous was the fact that he had entirely, completely made himself known.

Ulfran knew his time was limited.

He discovered, in Crow’s stolen thoughts, Ahuska’s desire to visit Lothal. He took a gamble and beat them there, where he began to lay down his plan. It wasn’t enough to simply kidnap her; the Deserters would be on his trail in a heartbeat. He had to fake her death, he had to make them truly believe she was gone—and against all odds, he succeeded.

Crow sat in the dew soaked grass, his back against one of the sheer, towering rocks that jutted skyward from the ground. He toyed with his blaster, passing it back and forth between his hands, as casual as someone mulling over what to have for dinner, but his gaze was locked out toward the horizon. His flat, grey gaze. The hot spark of life that burned so brightly behind his eyes had been extinguished.

Ahuska was gone.

‘I don’t want to see Dad like this again,’ Nela keened. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’ And Ulfran meant it.

He had taken Ahuska, and she had resisted savagely every waking minute. He had broken Crow’s spirit, and if not for his friends and his daughter, if not for Nela insisting something was wrong, the bounty hunter may never have left the plains of Lothal. He had assisted Hadrex in his lies and his forgery, he had convinced poor young Kovar Ve’lora that Ahuska would be a most exceptional wife. That he would be happy with her, and eventually, she with him. He had threatened Ahuska into compliance, and though he’d told himself repeatedly he would never actually follow through, that he would never truly make her forget the one she loved… he had it in him. Ulfran forced himself to acknowledge just how far he might have gone. Eyes locked so firmly on his job, on his end goal, the people he harmed along the way had begun to matter less and less. He agonized over the terrible things he did to meet his ends, but did them anyway, so what was the purpose of his self-torment? What good was his conscience, if he did those things anyway?

‘If you didn’t feel that way, you’d be someone different. You’d be the other one. It’s okay. We found you in time.’

----

Phewwww I’m getting so close to the end now! It’s weirdly challenging trying to summarise months and months of RP in a few paragraphs; I could carry on forever if I let myself! Boundless thanks to @humanrevolt for making all this happen with me and as ever for trusting me to write his characters in this monster of a tale. Thanks, too, to any of you out there who have actually been following this along! I hope it’s been some level of entertaining, aaa.

#swtor #swtor fic #star wars #bothan #bounty hunter #lothal #nines #ahuska #hadrex #ulfran #crow #sad crow is sad #it killed me when that bit happened #the right way #writing #my writing #aaa

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mustardyellowsunshine · 7 years

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What are some fluffy tropes you LOVE? Why? Alternately, what are some fluff tropes that miss the mark with you?

Gypsin, I don’t think you’re ready for the amount of incoherent gushing you’re about to get.

Tropes that will get me every single goddamn time:

MUTUAL PINING. This stuff is the crack of my OTP addiction. InuKag being totally into each other but thinking the other doesn’t or can’t feel the same, then the slow build up to the moment of truth... UGH. It gives me life.

Friends to lovers. I can never get enough of that good good trope.

Opposites attract. I am always entertained by this and it almost ALWAYS works in InuKag fics because hello. (I will only avoid this trope if it appears in a high school AU. “SHE’s preppy but HE’S a goth outcast” is just not an iteration that I care to read.)

The whole reunion trope, when two people knew each other in the past— and usually had some romantic involvement—are separated, and then meet again years later. I don’t know why I like this, tbh. Maybe it’s just fun to see how two people can grow apart but still come back together.

The marriage of convenience trope can be really fun, but it has to be executed well. I’ve definitely read fics that didn’t quite pull it off the way I hoped they would; but when it’s done well, I dig this trope.

Road trip romance! I love it. It’s fun to read about a couple getting closer while they’re both slightly out of their element and experiencing new things together.

This one’s definitely a guilty pleasure trope for me, but: that trope where one of the characters, for complicated reasons, has to disguise themselves or act a part, and then they fall in love and have to keep up the act even though it’s totally killing them to lie to the other person... like it’s a ridiculous scenario that plays out the same way every time, but I still love it.

Tropes that are incredibly off-putting:

Love triangle. Don’t need the unnecessary drama.

The playboy trope. I just. I CAN’T with playboy characters. I don’t understand the appeal at all. “This guy treats women like disposable pleasure factories but he’s TOTALLY SEXY, SEE?! And it’s okay because even though he’s never actually treated women with respect ever, for some bullshit reason the heroine is ‘not like other women’ and will reform him! And she can trust that he’ll respect HER despite his deplorable track record because reasons???” Yeah, super sexy.

You know that “friends with benefits” trope when two characters are sexually attracted to each other (whether they’re actually friends or not) and they start having casual sex, but of course it inevitably leads to romantic feelings? I don’t enjoy that. It’s just kind of boring to me—all those fics read exactly the same—and I s’pose I don’t find casual flings sexy.

Anything involving blackmail, where one character has dirt on the other and wants some kind of payday and somehow they end up falling in love (?!?!?)... just. Why? Like... sure, I’d TOTALLY trust and commit to someone who had once blackmailed me. It’s super romantic. >_>

Any fic where Kagome is a maid working for a wealthy Inuyasha is a fic I will instantly nope out of.

The whole “secret baby” trope is not my bag. I have a hard time sympathizing with the lead female character who’s hidden her pregnancy/child from the father, because like... he deserves to know? I’d be pretty upset if I had a kid in the world and I was never told. (Nanna’s the only person who’s made me enjoy this trope and I’m not sure how I feel about that. XD)

Manic pixie dream girl who “fixes” a broken man. NOPE.

That’s about all I can think of, for now. Thanks for the rad question. d(^__^)b

#ask #gypsin

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weareinstrangetimes · 4 years

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This Day In History - Jan 20, 2021 | a work in progress...

Immediately after the inauguration of Joseph R Biden as the 46th President of The United States of America, the Republican Party, along with the right wing disinformation network and their allies abroad and whatever nook and cranny they can be found in will attempt to re-write history. They will point the finger of blame for everything they are responsible for including their complicity in the corruption, deceit, atrocities, breaking of all norms, denigrating the Constitution, insurrection and attempted sedition based on the lies and conspiracy theories by their nice leader and traitor-in-chief.

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A post from October with a lot of research, graphs, and links, topped with a video from Meidas Touch

The Trump Depression: The Economy Does Better Under the Democrats

One of the rare occasions when DJT has told the truth.

https://weareinstrangetimes.tumblr.com/post/633392690647711746/the-trump-depression-the-economy-does-better

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The National Debt.

Trump’s most enduring legacy could be the historic rise in the national debt

COVID-19

One Year, 400,000 Coronavirus Deaths: How the U.S. Guaranteed Its Own Failure

Cremation Limits Lifted In LA Due To 'Backlog' As COVID-19 Deaths Skyrocket

~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I continuously see posts in FB, and shared from one person to another, in many edited forms, that are to be their “reminder” of where we are currently, for posterity. Most of them will have some personal points of fact in them such as the current price of gasoline in their area. Most of them contain the usual false or misleading talking points used by the GOP and the right wing disinformation circles. They aren’t outrageously nonsensical enough to have come from the duck pond people, so they mostly are just the usual disinformation from the Republicans. Case in point: Facebook post I am making this post so it will show back up as a future memory on my timeline:Today is Biden's Inauguration ...Gasoline is currently $2.17 per gallon in Checotah OK. Interest rates are 2.25% for a 30 year mortgage. The stock market closed at 31,188.38 +257.86 (0.83%) today even though we have been fighting COVID for 11 months. Our GDP growth for the 3rd Qtr was 33.1 percent. We had the best economy ever until COVID and it is recovering well. We have not had any new wars or conflicts in the last 4 years. North Korea has been under control and has not been testing any missiles. ISIS has not been heard from for over 3 years. The housing market is the strongest it has been in years. Homes have appreciated at an unbelievable rate and sell well. Wood prices are high with 2x2x8' going around $5.66/stud at Home Depot... And let’s not forget that peace deals in the Middle East were signed by 4 countries—unprecedented! Unemployment sits at 6.7% in spite of COVID.

Point - Counter Point

My reply: The 33% gain in GDP is true. That is still 10% below the Q1 level after the 31.4% drop in Q2. And even farther below the Q4 2019 level. The reason for the 33% gain from a 31.4% loss is due to the stimulus pumped into the economy from the Cares Act that Nancy Pelosi worked so hard on getting. https://www.brookings.edu/.../dont-let-flashy-3rd.../

Below is a running tracking of the GDP from 1947 to the latest data. There are two major drops in the GDP. One starting in Q3 2008, and another dramatic one beginning Q1 2020.

Reply to me: plus adding manufacturing that was outsourced to offshore manufacturing, lowering tax rates on business, and a multitude of other things. If you think this new stimulus bill they passed will benefit us we'll see since they seem more interested in sending money to other countries including enemies.

My Response:

Which manufacturing jobs were those? I know there has always been a lot of "talk" about it. Many corporations took advantage of their tax windfall to buy back their own stocks. Some who did upgrades added automation which resulted in loss of jobs for human workers, that robots could do. Some of those high profile corporations that were on display at the White House who gave out $1000 bonuses (to high ranking employees) laid workers off and scaled back which more than made up for it. Many CEOs and upper management received raises and very little went to the working class employees. There were a few companies that actually did increase wages and benefits to their employees, and Kudos to them. But I think they were in the minority.

The money going to foreign countries is not anything new and it was also included in the previous years budgets. It was part of the annual budget, in the defense portion, and was not part of the stimulus bill. They combined voting on them to try to get them both passed. The House voted on them separately and the Senate was to vote on the combined bill. The talking points are merely political, knowing full well that the majority of the population were not going to do any research.

N Korea? While exchanging love letters they were continuing their nuclear war head development under the cloud of a love affair. They had already perfected and tested their long range missiles within the last 4 years. Missiles that could reach the Western United States.

Peace treaties between non-warring countries? A nice political ploy. Bebe was returning the favor for the previous administration's help with his re-election. The two peoples still at odds are Israel and the Palestinians. The Palestinians were left out. The Palestinians want the same thing that Israel has always wanted and rightly so. Their own homeland/country and recognition on the world stage. The conflicts in that region, aside from with Iran, were with Qatar, (where we have a strategically shared air base and thousands of troops, and the other strategic partners in the region. Why? Because Jared Kushner got turned down when he was asking Qatar to bail out his failing 666 5th Ave property. It was revenge. So, that's like throwing gas on a pile of wood, lighting it, and then offering water to put the fire out. Those "peace treaties" were nothing more than normalization and cooperation agreements with some promised "deals" thrown in.

Point - Counter Point Another post being passed around in FB.

I've heard everyone else's hatred, rhetoric and blatant lies for the past four years, so now I'm expressing my opinion. If you don't like it, you know where the delete button is. Let me be clear, I'm not a Biden fan. I think he's corrupt, a liar, a racist fanatic, he's in bed with China and probably suffers dementia. He has done nothing to improve anything in his 47 year political career. But what has Trump done in the past 4 years?The ′′ arrogant ′′ in the White House negotiated four Middle East Peace Accords, something that 71 years of endless political intervention and war failed to produce.The White House ′′ buffoon ′′ is the first president to not involve us in an outside war since Eisenhower.The ′′ racist ′′ in the White House has had the biggest impact on the economy, bringing jobs and reducing unemployment among the black and Latina population of ANY other president. Never. Ever.The ′′ liar ′′ in the White House has exposed profound, widespread and long-standing corruption in the FBI, CIA, NSA, and Republican and Democratic parties.The White House ′′ White Supremacist ′′ turned NATO around and made them start paying their debts.The White House's ′′ dumb ′′ neutralized North Koreans and prevented them from sending missiles to Japan and threatening the Western US.The ′′ xenophobic ′′ in the White House changed our relationship with the Chinese, brought hundreds of businesses back to the US and revived the economy.This same ′′ clown ′′ reduced taxes, increased the standard deduction in his IRS statement from $ 12,500 to $ 24,400 for married couples and prompted the stock market to rise to record levels, positively impacting retirement accounts of tens of millions of citizens.The ′′ idiot ′′ in the White House accelerated the development of multiple COVID vaccines that are now available or will be soon. And yet we still don't have a vaccine for SARS, bird flu, ebola, or a number of diseases that emerged during previous administrations.The ′′ orange man ′′ in the White House rebuilt our military, which the Obama administration paralyzed and fired 214 key generals and admirals in their first year of term.Got it you don't like it. Many of you hate and despise him completely. How special of you. He is serving you and the WHOLE American people. What are you doing besides insulting him and laughing that he got the China virus Some of you even expected COVID to be the cause of her disappearance. (Ah, the left. The party of ′′ tolerance ′′Please re-educate me on what Biden has accomplished for America in his 47 years in office, as well as enriching the entire Biden family. BTW where's Hunter?I'll take the ′′ clown ′′ any day versus a corrupt, hypocritical, racist, fork-tongue liar. I want a strong leader who isn't afraid to kick butts when necessary. I don't need a father figure. I don't need a liar. That's what Hollywood, CNN, MSNBC, ABC, NBC, CBS and The New York Times are for.Call me dumb, racist, super diffuser or part of the basket of deplorables. I don't care!God bless Donald Trump, the best and least appreciated president in US history.

Reply:

Counterpoint part 1: I realize you are not the author of that post. I have seen this post re-posted many times in various forms here in FB including by friends and I didn't respond. But since this is my post I will. I have also seen it at a site where gamers, musicians, music enthusiasts and creative folks hang out. It did not originate from there. The origin I believe is in part anyway from the same conspiracy theorist group that also makes up wild and crazy claims of former heads of state and officials being arrested, that never are. And people dying, who are still alive. And a dead person secretly being alive and running a crusade, who is still dead. And pizza joints having basements with trafficking rings, that have no basements. And miracle cures for COVID that are not proven and can cause more damage if not used for what they were intended for, even if you have a really cool pillow and a clean aquarium. And, and, and ... 5G, windmills, George Soros, Bill Gates, Forest Gump, Mr. Magoo, and voodoo doctors doing it with little green men in their dreams.

Do they ever question why everything they believe is bunk? Do they ever get angry for being deceived? Do they ever feel foolish for looking foolish for posting such foolish nonsense? No. They just pass it off and wait for the next wild tale to spread and swear by.

There are those who praise so-called Peace Treaties between nations that are not at war, leaving out the 1 culture that is affected and wants their own sovereignty and homeland, in every one of those so called "peace treaties". They suggest he should get a Nobel Peace Prize, and some even think he has been awarded it because he puts a fake facsimile of the medal in some of his posts. Those "peace treaties" I don't think were any more than cooperation and normalization agreements, and in some cases containing agreements to make financial transactions.

The guy they tout as not having involved us in any wars has brought us very close to nuclear conflicts with his loud mouth and nasty tweets. The one guy who was the most imminent danger learned quickly that he could dupe the the mad Tweeter by giving him praise. In turn, he received what his father and grand father, also dictators before him, could never get from a U.S. President. What they got, with very little in return, was their most coveted prize, an audience with the Tweeter which gave them credibility and legitimacy in the eyes of their own subservient population. And they got an end to our annual readiness maneuvers with their Southern neighbor and our other strategic allies which was their second most coveted prize. Then while exchanging love letters with the mad Tweeter, they were able to secretly continue with their nuclear warhead development. And since they already have long range missile capability to reach the United States (tested during the mad Tweeter's reign) they are not only a major threat to our allies in the South Pacific, they are an imminent threat to the mainland U.S.

The "buffoon" (referenced in the list of fables) in question also abandoned our allies that were instrumental in fighting ISIL (who is not completely eliminated) leaving them to be threatened with genocide (our betrayed allies) by another despot whose country hosts real estate developments the mad Tweeter has his name on (Trump Towers), and another crazed dictator who has been guilty of genocide and using chemical weapons in his own country on his own citizens. Those allies were also guarding the prisons that the ISIL prisoners were housed in, and they were allowed to escape. In fact his claims of completely eliminating ISIL himself 100% can be debunked by his own State Department. https://www.factcheck.org/.../trumps-isis-claim-goes-to.../ That was in 2017 and 2018. So, if ISIL (ISIS) was 100% defeated by 2018, why were we still fighting them in late 2019? Trump walks back claim of defeating ‘100% of the ISIS caliphate’ https://www.rollcall.com/.../trump-walks-back-claim-of.../ The claims by the right wing propagandists and Trump regarding unemployment for Blacks, and Latinos can be corrected by simply doing some research. AP FACT CHECK: Trump on unemployment for blacks, Latinos https://apnews.com/article/e1afa3f19a054540a7c34ca193bdd9ae Quote from the fable: "The White House ′′ White Supremacist ′′ turned NATO around and made them start paying their debts." What he did was weaken our alliances, playing right in the hands of one of our most dangerous adversaries, the guy who helped him to get into office. Something he has done throughout his term. And, his alt-facts and those of the right wing deceivers are easily fact checked. FactChecking Trump’s NATO Remarks https://www.factcheck.org/.../factchecking-trumps-nato.../ Trump made many claims about bringing jobs back to the U.S. and creating new jobs. Many of those things he was taking credit for early on were things that were already in the works long before he was helped into the White House. 2017: https://www.factcheck.org/.../trump-jobs-returning.../ 2020: We can reshore manufacturing jobs, but Trump hasn’t done it https://www.epi.org/publica.../reshoring-manufacturing-jobs/

There are a lot of claims around the GOP tax cuts. Sure, the standard deduction was increased. So has the cost of living due to illegal trade wars and prices sky rocketing. And many deductions for those who itemized were eliminated. Many are still waiting for their "post cards" so they can file their taxes. Those who really benefitted were those who are not in a month to month struggle to make ends meet. The corporate tax cuts that the Trump and GOP promoters said would trickle down and benefit the working class family wage earners was not realized. Corporations used their GOP granted socialism to buy back their own stocks. And many of those who touted handing big bonuses out in turn laid other workers off or eliminated jobs which more than made up for it.

The stock market has been used by Trump and his mouthpieces as an economic indicator. While some people do benefit with returns on their retirement plans and stock portfolios, it is not a barometer of how working families are getting along, many who have to work multiple jobs just to pay rent and eat. And not everybody dabbles in the stock market. There have been ups and downs in the market. There was one period in March of 2020, where all gains in the market were wiped out back to February 2017. What happens in that type of situation? Those companies that can wrangle it buy back their own shares at lower prices which artificially gives the market another instant boost.

Counterpoint part 2:>>> Let's talk about infrastructure week. Still waiting on that one since February or March of 2017. We'll have to wait until real President-elect Joe Biden takes office.

How about Operation Warp Speed and vaccine development. Accelerated vaccine development is a good thing, and because there were decades of research behind it and technological advances it was possible to accomplish. Joe Biden even acknowledged Trump, or at least Operation Warp Speed as a positive move. We can at least give him credit for that, since he botched the response with delays, denial, disinformation, and creating a herd mentality to push back on safety and mitigation in order to recklessly reach herd immunity through infection and death.> It should be noted that the first vaccine that was approved was from Pfizer, and they did not participate in Operation Warp Speed where the others received funding. They funded themselves although Trump deceitfully takes credit. And those 20,000,000 vaccine doses that Trump, Pence and the Trump administration were promising by the end of December 2020? As of January 8th, 6.6 million initial doses have been administered according to NBC News MAP Covid-19 vaccination tracker across the U.S. https://www.nbcnews.com/.../map-covid-19-vaccination...

After Trump "wanted to play it down" the U.S. as of Friday, January 8 2021, has surpassed 22 million COVID-19 cases, with a record 269,420 new cases, and over 372,000 deaths (Jan 9). https://www.nbcnews.com/.../u-s-covid-19-cases-hit-22...

Trump and his enablers and apologists often talk about how he rebuilt the "depleted military" that he inherited from President Obama. As with most Trump claims, it is Mostly False. Quote from the fable: "The ′′ orange man ′′ in the White House rebuilt our military, which the Obama administration paralyzed and fired 214 key generals and admirals in their first year of term. "Regarding the firing of the Generals, I saw another figure, 197, that was posted in a publication for retired folks in The Villages in Florida. Others have said it first appeared in the alt-right fake news Breitbart site. As with most things that roll around like a marble in an empty box in the right wing disinformation arena things are just made up, or facts spun and twisted like a taffy pretzel. In 2010, President Obama did replace his top Afghanistan war commander, Gen. Stanley A. McChrystal due to in-bickering in his national security team. He replaced McChrystal with his boss and mentor, Gen. David H. Petraeus. https://www.nytimes.com/.../24/us/politics/24mcchrystal.html There have been other firings, replacements, and retirements. Most absences are for good reason and there is no wholesale purging as the right wing conspiracy theorists would lead you to believe. https://skeptoid.com/.../24/president-obama-purge-military/ Quoted from Snopes: "The U.S. national defense budget was slightly reduced during Obama's second term, in large part due to efforts by Congress to limit government spending and the withdrawal of troops from the Middle East. "Who controlled both the House and Senate? The Republican Party. https://www.snopes.com/.../trump-inherit-depleted-military/ AP FACT CHECK: Trump's Overblown Boasts About Military, Vets https://www.usnews.com/.../ap-fact-check-trumps-overblown... General Michael Flynn was also fired in 2014 from his position as head of the Defense Intelligence Agency under Obama. Too many connections with RU it seems. And something I didn't previously know, was after he was fired he became a contributor to RT (government funded, Russia Today). https://themoscowproject.org/collusion/flynn-fired-dia/ I had always thought he was fired due to his overt Islamophobia which didn't sit well with some of our allies. He was advising Trump in 2016 on foreign policy and national security and subsequently during his campaign transition. Then he was appointed National Security Adviser in the administration (despite warnings not to), and he brought much of his baggage with him. It was discovered that he had previous contacts with the Russian Ambassador to the U.S. and was accused of trying to undermine U.S. policy. He was also accused of being a lobbyist for the same country where Trump's name is licensed on the Trump Towers Istanbul (that's 2 of them). All this while receiving classified briefings. He was fired or asked to resign just 3 weeks into Trump's term. https://apnews.com/article/ce90066b4e20483da79adf21910da0c7

Another quote from the fable list: "The buffoon in the White House has exposed the deep, widespread, and long-standing corruption in the FBI, the CIA, the NSA, and the Republican and Democratic parties." While there have been some procedural errors and some ethical issues, most of them are small compared with the real issues at hand. Now, the "buffoon" has not exposed anything. All the noise is to cover up and deflect from the corruption and high crimes and misdemeanors of said buffoon and his accomplices, enablers and apologists. That is the way the GOP does things.

"47 years" seems to be one of the fall backs when they run out of any other fables, or simply can't think of anything else to say. That would bring us back to 1973 making him 31 years old at that time. Joe Biden was a U.S. Senator representing Delaware from 1973 to 2009, re-elected several times. He was Vice President in the Obama Administration from 2009 to 2017, two full terms. He ran for president in 1988 and 2008.He has been on the Senate Judiciary Committee, Senate Foreign Relations Committee. In his early years he worked on consumer protection, environmental issues, and greater government accountability, arms control. He has worked as a public servant most of his adult life. He has probably done a lot more in his 47 years since being elected U.S. Senator than most people asking what he has done. While some of his views and policies in the past were controversial at the time, like most people, he has evolved and adapted to the changes in culture and public opinion. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joe_Biden...

The person who wrote the fable list states he will take the ′′ clown ′′ any day versus a corrupt, hypocritical, racist, fork-tongue liar. The Impeached "clown" in fact is all of the above and has been identified as a pathological liar and probably the most documented liar in history. The "clown" is also labeled as racist, corrupt, a con-artist, a xenophobe and a bigot among other things too numerous to list. Many people have said that. Also, unindicted co-conspirator, Individual 1, in crimes another person is serving prison time for. Individual 1 was only ‘not indicted’ due to Justice Department policies on not indicting a sitting president for crimes committed.

to be continued....

#national debt

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musiconanironingboard · 5 years

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13 August 2019: Out of the Blue, Electric Light Orchestra. (2007 Epic/Legacy expanded reissue of 1977 Jet release)

In August 2018, Jeff Lynne’s Electric Light Orchestra played in a nearby suburb (at the fabled former Rosemont Horizon, now Allstate Arena). ELO had played a couple of big gigs abroad, the first ELO concerts headed by Lynne in decades, including one in Hyde Park. I want to say our globetrotting friend Owen was there; I’m pretty sure he saw ELO in a far-flung locale before it was ever dreamed the band would come to the States. My girlfriend would hear about these overseas shows and yearn to attend one, so when they announced a Chicagoland date I knew we had to go and I got tickets as a sort of birthday present. It wasn’t only for her; I wanted to see them, too, even though I had never listened to a complete Electric Light Orchestra album from start to finish. “Telephone Line” from their 1976 album A New World Record was a longtime favorite of mine, one of the earliest examples of melancholy in music that I ever heard. I’d long believed A New World Record to be the band’s high point, based entirely on that song and on conversations with my brother, who owned a smattering of ELO records. I knew plenty of ELO hits, but remained entirely unfamiliar with their albums, including 1977 mega-smash Out of the Blue, an album my brother derided and so I never bothered. This may be another of my apocryphal claims, but I seem to recall being with our parents when they bought him the album for Christmas that year, at Co-Op Records when it was in a sort of trailer out on Pershing Road in Decatur, details only he can confirm.

The concert was a lot of fun, and being “Catalog Man” I afterward felt the need to examine the entire ELO catalog over the course of the following year. I started buying every album, in order, intending to end with 1986′s Balance of Power. For each release I got the most recent CD reissue with bonus tracks. I even bought things like live albums that never got a US release. When I do catalogs, I do them very deliberately. The problem with this ELO project was I didn’t really enjoy very much of it at all. Sitting here today, I would be better served with A New World Record and a hits compilation.

Out of the Blue really exhausted my tolerance for Electric Light Orchestra. I’m not a prog fan, and that kept me from liking a lot of the early ELO material, but by the time of Out of the Blue the whole zeitgeist was tiresome. Add to it that I deplore the song “Mr. Blue Sky,” which I don’t think I ever heard until the concert. Within a nanosecond of the band launching into that tune, every suburban fool in the arena leapt to their feet with such automaton-like precision that I could only conclude the song had been in a Pixar movie. There isn’t much else that makes a certain demographic act with such extreme enthusiasm. So while the concert was fun and left me wanting to hear the band’s catalog, I knew even then that seeds of discontent were waiting.

Out of the Blue was the last ELO album I bought. I’d obtained its 1979 follow-up, Discovery, a bit earlier. If I thought I disliked “Mr. Blue Sky” I was in no way prepared for the bitter ire that “The Diary of Horace Wimp” from Discovery brought out in me. I am not sure I’ve ever hated a song as much as I do “Horace Wimp.” It’s not even rational. Once I heard Discovery I cancelled my plan to go to the bitter end of the original ELO catalog, and so I will remain unfamiliar with 1980s ELO (outside of 1980 Olivia Newton-John collaboration “Xanadu,” which as an eight-year-old I enjoyed enough to want its 45 for Christmas, which my brother bought me that year). All my ELO discs, save A New World Record, are now in a storage box and I occasionally imagine selling them all and just getting the dang greatest-hits comp that I should have bought in the first place.

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deadcactuswalking · 5 years

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 14th July 2019 (Post Malone, Young Thug, Lizzo, Dave)

Top 10

This week, we actually have a new number-one, but I find it hard to be invested in “Senorita” by Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello hitting the top after moving up one spot from last week, especially because their limelight will be taken back by Ed Sheeran next week with the No. 6 Collaborations Project, although again, Sheeran has ran himself into a corner if he wants an album bomb (None of his singles released between “BLOW” and “Antisocial” could have possibly charted in the UK). This is Mendes’ second UK #1, his first since “Stitches” in 2015, and Cabello’s second as well, her first since “Havana”. It shouldn’t matter, it’ll be Ed’s next week.

After eight weeks at #1 since its debut, “I Don’t Care” by Ed Sheeran featuring Justin Bieber, a pretty pathetic song in my opinion but far from the worst on the project, is now down one spot to number-two. Once again, it’ll rebound, and if it doesn’t, there’ll be a Sheeran debut to replace both this and “Senorita” pretty quickly.

Oh, yeah, speaking of an Ed, “Beautiful People” featuring Khalid has surprisingly kept steady from its debut last week at number-three.

“Hold Me While You Wait” by Lewis Capaldi is up a single spot to number-four... why?

We also have our first and only top 10 debut, “Goodbyes” by Post Malone at number-five, featuring a verse from... Young Thug. I couldn’t tell you if this is Young Thug’s anything since his Wikipedia discography page is incredibly uncooperative, but this is Post Malone’s tenth UK Top 40 hit and seventh UK Top 10. We’ll talk more about it later, and I have some things to say about it to say the least.

“Crown” by Stormzy takes a two-space hit down to number-six.

Somehow, whilst now assisted by a (Pretty bad) remix with Young Thug and Mason Ramsey, the kid who yodelled in Walmart a couple years back, and a new animated music video about Area 51, “Old Town Road” by Lil Nas X featuring Billy Ray Cyrus, etc. is still at number-seven for like the fourth week in a row. We’ll see if this is in freefall or not next week.

Oh, and “Cross Me” by Ed Sheeran featuring Chance the Rapper and PNB Rock is down two spaces to number-eight. Whether this means it’ll rebound or be completely replaced by another Sheeran track like “Antisocial” or probably “Take Me Back to London”, again, we’ll find out next week.

“Wish You Well” by Sigala and Becky Hill isn’t moving at number-nine.

Finally, Mabel’s “Mad Love” has dipped down two spaces to #10 but I don’t think this is the end of this song, this can be a genuine summer smash; it fits all the requirements.

Climbers

We have a couple of climbers within the UK Top 40 but not many and none of these are even all that good. I mean, I’m not complaining about “Higher Love” by Kygo and Whitney Houston jumping up ten spaces to #26. Oh, yeah, and by not many I meant none at all, this is the only climber above five spaces in the entire UK Top 40.

Fallers

We have a lot more of these, though; in fact we have plenty here to talk about. “Kilos” by Bugzy Malone featuring Aitch is once again down ten spaces, this time to #40, so sadly Bugzy doesn’t get that summer hit he was expected to reach in terms of longevity but I’m sure a top 20 hit will look good down the line, and we should be thankful it didn’t drop out from the debut entirely, because honestly I expected it to. Elsewhere at #33, “Summer Days” by Martin Garrix, Macklemore and Patrick Stump of Fall Out Boy (Yes, that’s how it’s been credited since release) is down seven spaces, nearing “Piece of Your Heart” by MEDUZA and Goodboys at #32, down eight spots from last week. Billie Eilish’s “bad guy” is slowly making its way out now, down five to #23, with Drake’s “Money in the Grave” featuring Rick Ross doing the same, but prematurely at #22. Otherwise, yeah, there’s not much to speak of here, so let’s move on.

Dropouts & Returning Entries

There’s one drop out here that’s gone from the top 75 here and it’s unfortunate but seems to be because of streaming cuts, and it’s “Guten Tag” by Hardy Caprio and DigDat, out from #35 after nine weeks, but it had its run and never really exploded as much as it could have, but again, top 20 hit for a week, nobody’s complaining, The biggest fall otherwise is “If I Can’t Have You” by Shawn Mendes which probably also had that streaming cut in its tenth week, falling out from #19. Elsewhere, “Don’t Check on Me” by Chris Brown featuring Justin Bieber and Ink is out from the debut at #29, “Easier” by 5 Seconds of Summer is finally out from #37 and the deplorable “Heaven” by the late Avicii featuring Chris Martin is out from #39. Oh, and “Giant” by Calvin Harris and Rag’n’Bone Man is out from #40 AGAIN. It’ll be back next week or in a couple of weeks, but its chart run has been pretty interesting to follow recently. There aren’t any returning entries, so let’s get straight to the new arrivals.

NEW ARRIVALS

#37 – “Truth Hurts” – Lizzo

Produced by Ricky Reed and Tele – Peaked at #5 in New Zealand and #6 in the US

Our first two new arrivals are songs that are at least two years old and are just now charting for various reasons, and I’m just glad the UK Top 40 has no recurrent rule because there are some chart moments that could never happen in the US without Billboard getting a bit stingy and inconsistent about what’s allowed and what’s not. This song in particular was dropped in 2017 with a music video and didn’t exactly make waves, mostly because Lizzo wasn’t as known but she does well critically (And did at the time too with her two studio albums she abandoned once she blew up and the image changed), and it was never planned to be on an album. When the song was featured in a Netflix film, Something Great, it clicked with audiences, who would later use it as a TikTok meme because of course they did, and then it replaced “Juice” as the promoted single. Viral sleeper hits from years ago in your career breaking out in the midst of an album cycle is naturally pretty awkward. Anyways, this eventually debuted at #50 on the Hot 100 and became an unexpected massive worldwide smash for the rapper-singer, becoming a US Top 10 hit and now entering here in the UK charts, becoming her second UK Top 40 single after “Juice”. And now for the song itself, I’ll try and keep it brief because I don’t have much to say about it. My stance for now is that it’s pretty good, I like the gliding strings and synths that build up to a pretty fun drop, especially with Lizzo’s vocals and lyrics, which are about boy problems but in a way that’s very sassy and seems oddly personal, directed to someone from Detroit, who she replaced with someone on the Minnesota Vikings team. Some of these punchlines are pretty witty and especially well-delivered with her messy, off-key singing and constantly shifting flow, often with janky overlap between bars. The chorus is really catchy, like it’s not “Baby Shark” level infectious but it’s up there, especially with the little backing vocals accentuating the lyrics. I like the voice cracks in the second verse, and it demonstrates a point where I have an issue with the song, but that may be the point. For a song that seems so confident and full of braggadocio, everything around it wants you to think it’s a lot less stable, with synths that kind of just glide in, the off-key singing, and the badly-mixed trap percussion that’s especially noticeable when watching the video. That could be really clever as it shows the lyrics are mostly a front to cover how pained Lizzo is after this break-up, or maybe I’m completely over-thinking a trap-rap song about being “100% that b****”. Probably that one.

#36 – “Thiago Silva” – Dave and AJ Tracey

Produced by 169

Now, this is a less gradual rise to popularity. It was released all the way back in May 2016 by the two UK rappers who have later blown up and made separate names for themselves. It didn’t get much notice in the mainstream because of course it didn’t, it was 2016. British hip hop was only starting to get more chart presence, and the general public isn’t going to gravitate to two newcomers without an album out at the time, more likely a legacy artist who makes safer variations of grime and trap. Nevertheless, Dave and AJ Tracey are now pretty massive, so their collaborative single from three years ago was later certified Silver (No pun intended) in December of last year, and eventually charted because of a viral performance from Glastonbury 2019, where in the June festival, because AJ Tracey couldn’t make it, Dave called up a fan called Alex who knew all of the lyrics to recite them with Dave. He killed it, did an incredibly awkward interview on Good Morning Britain afterwards, and here we are, with Dave’s twelfth UK Top 40 hit and AJ Tracey’s sixth. I have no idea who Thiago Silva is or what his prominence is, but I know he’s a Brazillian footballer and that the song isn’t actually about Thiago Silva, it’s actually surprisingly generic coming from Dave, but you shouldn’t expect much substance from a grime track made for clubs, and he still has his typical puns that are almost so awful that they tread the line between being so bad it’s good and just circling back around to being awful again.

True say, I ain’t really a drinker / But I got love for brandy like Ray J

The beat is a re-work of influential grime group Ruff Sqwad’s song “Pied Piper”, and I always like when artists of a similar genre call upon some of the works that inspired them for samples... the instrumental takes that low-fidelity sample, add some bumping 808s and trading verses from Dave and AJ. AJ Tracey kills it, and you can tell he was perfectly prepared for “Ladbroke Grove” years later, because he knows how to flow on a grime beat, and actually sounds quite professional. You can’t really blame Dave since he’s very young at the time this was recorded and released, but his verses all suck here, his performance overall is often somewhat off-beat, and sounds really janky anyway, mostly because of how it’s mixed (Badly, if you couldn’t figure that out) and how Dave isn’t recognisable, he sounds like AJ a lot of the time and switches through a lot of different simple flows and cadences without ever keeping his character. The lyrical content is nothing to speak of either. I wish I liked this a lot more, to be honest, but it’s not bad at all.

#34 – “Castles” – Freya Ridings

Produced by Dan Nigro, Mark Crew, Dan Priddy and Yves Rothman – Peaked at #3 in Scotland

Remember Freya Ridings? I sure don’t, she’s boring and unrecognisable from a set of “genuine, down-to-earth” singers, and not just female singers; she’s very much from the same strand of bore as Lewis Capaldi. Her last two singles, including UK Top 10 hit “Lost Without You”, were pretty, I guess, and that’s the main reason I tend to give her a pass over Capaldi – her singles actually sound decently produced and competent, despite overly breathy singing and mostly consisting of a few piano notes and string loops. Her writing isn’t recognisable at all as I said and she doesn’t have a signature style, but she doesn’t need to be. Just deliver it well, and that’s all that should matter, but she’s not convincing. She’s also not everywhere like Capaldi, so I guess that explains my preference. Anyway, this is her second UK Top 40 hit and I don’t care. It’s cut from the same cloth as a lot of indie-rock, which I’m surprised by, but it lacks any weight and gut, it feels like it doesn’t have much grandiosity in its production as a build-up until that chorus comes in, and to be fair to her and her writers, it’s a pretty incredible chorus. I feel like Ridings’ vocals aren’t mixed all too well, they’re a bit quiet until they become multi-tracked in the pre-chorus. That’s enough complaining though, because honestly this is a pretty good song. The use of Ridings’ vocal runs as a synth that goes from the left to right channel in the post-chorus is inspired, the addition of the children’s choir is nonsensical but as a kiss-off that is not grounded at all, hell, I’d be surprised if Freya Ridings literally didn’t build a castle out of this guy’s love, or whatever she’s saying, she has a bit of indie girl enunciation syndrome. Overall, it takes a while to get going and there a couple of nitpicks but this is pretty above average at least and it might grow on me.

#20 – “Home P***y” – D-Block Europe

Produced by Pro Beats

These guys suck. Young Adz and Dirtbike LB, because, yes, those are their names, are pretty painfully bad singers covered in cheap auto-tune with bland trap or Afroswing beats leased off of YouTube, and have a name as a collective that they’ll probably have to legally change after Article 50 kicks in. I don’t hate these people directly, obviously, but their music bothers me mostly because British hip hop is peaking right now in critical acclaim and popularity, and there’s a bunch of these no-names like B Young and Aitch taking advantage of that. Aitch has charisma and unwarranted enthusiasm, B Young is an awful songwriter and is unintentionally pretty hilarious because of that... so what do these dudes have? Anyway, this is their third UK Top 40 hit (Second UK Top 20) and I feel like I should explain the name first, and that’s because this song is about getting all types of girls as you’re on the road touring, but the sex from your girlfriend, or alternatively, from people in your hometown, keeps you “safe”. That’s kind of creepy and also kind of... sweet(?), but who cares? This is trash appealing to the lowest common denominator with barely any thought put into it that’ll be out of the charts in four weeks and that’s being generous. What’s funny enough here to mock then? Well, they start the song with “This ain’t no love song, this is a thug song”, in a childish inflection with a lot of reverb as if it’s some kind of dramatic profound quote, before he makes an incoherent noise and the producer tag shows up, and it’s one of those tags you can get for cheap, I imagine, it’s that robotic female voice you hear on a lot of no-name producer tags. The way Young Adz says anything is in a very childish manner, so it’s always really odd when he says he’s got hitters, or just the words “home p***y” in general. It fits when he’s shouting “skrrt skrrt” ad-libs over the whole track, because his multi-tracked vocals clip and there are no dynamics here at all. Dirtbike LB gives up his rhyme scheme with an Auto-Tuned moan two bars into his verse. Here are some stupid lyrics.

This the last time but not the last time like befooooooooooore

Is that a sentence?

Talkin’ on the net, you’ve got a voice now?

Why are you angry? It’s a sex song about people you trust, why would you go off on women you don’t trust? This is a pretty toxic attitude to have too, that people can’t speak up about relationships after they’ve ended because they stayed quiet and subservient throughout, and that’s not just women, that can be anyone in a relationship.

I hate your friends, I think they’re fake, I hope they all down

Oh, Jesus, okay, well, on that note, I’ve got to stop talking smack about Young Adz.

#11 – “So High” – MIST and Fredo

Produced by Preditah

Okay, this is another trading-bars cut from two British rappers that are very similar musically and in terms of media personality, image, popularity/status and everything else. Essentially, this is our third twin-rap cut that debuted in the Top 40 today, and it’s MIST’s second UK Top 40, first Top 20 and highest-peaking song ever, as well as Fredo’s sixth UK Top 40 and third Top 20. I’m not expecting this to be anything good but I am expecting it to be much more professional in comparison to our last song, and I’m really not surprised that I have next to nothing to say about this song, like at all. It’s not bad, and I love how Fredo flips Fred Gibson’s “Fred again” producer tag in his voice, with the vocal sample acting as the refrain being actually pretty crisp, but MIST is kind of off-beat and the lyrical content is really uninteresting, it’s about treating a woman right but still being a boss or whatever, I don’t know, it feels very much like an early-mid 2000s rap/R&B fusion. I don’t care, though, because I can’t tell MIST and Fredo from each other and wow, this write-up is short.

#5 – “Goodbyes” – Post Malone featuring Young Thug

Produced by Brian Lee and Louis Bell – Peaked at #1 in Belgium and #3 in the US

This is the new surprise smash single from Post Malone, “Goodbyes”, and I said on Twitter the day this was released that it was exactly what I expected from Post as I follow his career path, becoming less of a trap-R&B crooner and much more of a massive pop star who incorporates a lot of hip-hop flows into his brand of depressing, alcohol-induced bouts of strained vocal performances, as well as trap percussion into his often kind of bubblegum pop hits. He hasn’t walked too far away from trap yet, so I think this is where he takes himself away from the SoundCloud rap scene he burst out from, as he uses somewhat of a rap flow in the verses but it is definitely infused with melodic inflections and some syllable-stuttering that reminds me of an awful emo-pop or pop punk song that Post probably would have been into.

Me and Kurt feel the same / Too much pleasure is pain

Yeah, emo-rap guys tend to cite Kurt Cobain although I see more resemblance in Sum 41 than I do Nirvana or any grunge band for that matter. “Need to take off the e-e-edge,” “I’m addic—I’m addicted to you”, it’s one in the same. Anyway, after an unnecessary bout of silence, the song starts with some wavy, dreamy synths, before Post comes in with that “rap” flow that sounds great in that raspy voice he can put on, but that pre-chorus that slowly quiets down and drifts off at the end of each line is perfect as it shows a muddled mindset when a break-up happens, and that’s why some of the lyrics here are janky or even toxic, it’s the initial jerk reaction and all of the awful flaws that Post can think of are coming up at once because he’s confused and just wants this woman out as soon as possible so he doesn’t do something on impulse that can be dangerous, and he knows that he’s not in a place where he’s safe and he could hurt someone, he’s mentally unstable, and is almost scared for the girl he’s breaking up with, which is all heavily implied by the chorus, which by the way when that hi-hat kicks in and later the sub-bass with the contrasting synth melody, oh, man, that’s great. The drop is effective too, and I love how Post flip-flops tonally, from the silly e-e-edge refrains to precision f-strikes in such a way that is as messy as the relationship. God, and then Thugger comes in. Now, I thought he was jarring at first but after having this in rotation, oh my God, this verse is incredible. Thugger’s verse is more generic about these struggles and uses some... questionable language about slicing and dicing this woman, but those first two lines are perfect.

I want you out of my life / I want you back here tonight

It demonstrates greatly in an almost bipolar fashion how unstable this relationship and by extension, Post himself, is in this song, and pretty much sums the whole song up. Then Thugger starts belting about not wanting her to turn the TV off because he’s watching a fight, because, he’s Young Thug. The way he just yells all this mundane problems he has with this woman is cathartic in a way I didn’t initially expect it to be, and it’s actually really powerful, especially that last “YEA YEA YEAH”. It’s a bit dodgy structure-wise, though, and the mixing is actually pretty awful, with the trap percussion sounding quite cheap, Post’s wailing sometimes being overproduced, the clipping on nearly every instrument here showing how rushed it was and it’s essentially unfinished mixing and mastering-wise, but God this is a perfect song otherwise. I love this, I hope it gets a remix but when everything’s peaking in the mix, honestly, it might just add to the power of the lyrics. I’ll be talking about this more in my best list, I’ll elaborate then.

Conclusion

It should be pretty obvious that Best of the Week is going to Post Malone and Young Thug for “Goodbyes”, with Honourable Mention being Freya Ridings’ this week for “Castles”. I know, I’m surprised too, but it’s slim pickings and while I think “Truth Hurts” is probably a better song, I want to shout out the lesser-known song. My goal here is to talk about British pop music critically because there’s not many people who do as regularly as I do, and honestly I’ll be biased to British artists due to this. Lizzo is still cool though. Worst of the Week goes to D-Block Europe for “Home P***y”, with Dishonourable Mention going to... okay, well, there’s none this week and the Honourable Mention is tied with Lizzo for “Truth Hurts”. I forgot most of this stuff was just kind of okay. Follow me on Twitter @cactusinthebank for more musical ramblings and I’ll see you next week!

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buckyismyaesthetic · 7 years

Text

Punk (Chap. 7)

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 2510

Warnings: Same as always

A/N: Thank you for all of the feedback again I’m completely blown away. Sorry that tags have been finicky, not sure what tumblr’s deal is lately. I hope you like this chapter, thanks for sticking around!

The crisp, cold air outside the club was a welcoming relief but did little to halt the burning tears cascading down your cheeks or the hot waves of mortification and shame radiating out from deep within your very being. The cold air bit at your nose and throat as you allowed yourself to suck in great gulps in attempts to keep the impending panic attack at bay.

This can’t be happening, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Ethan stood at the curb, attempting to hail a cab while you toiled over your interaction with Bucky. This wasn’t like how it was in the movies. Wasn’t Bucky supposed to be completely awestruck with your transformation? Shouldn’t he have been at a loss for words? Instead he was completely taken aback for all the wrong reasons. He’d looked at you with utter confusion, probably wondering what the hell you were doing in a dress, wearing makeup, sporting heels, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing…and he didn’t like it at all.

Frantic waving pulled you back to reality and you angrily wiped the tears from your face. Ethan managed to nab a taxi and was holding the door for you. You slid all the way over, waiting for Ethan to join you, but he closed the door and leaned in through the open window to ask, “Where you headed?”

“Stark Tower,” you mumbled in confusion….Isn’t he supposed to be coming with me? Isn’t that what this is?

Ethan nodded and relayed the directions to the driver. He then handed the man a crisp twenty dollar bill, telling him to get you there safely. Your stomach dropped. Ethan wasn’t coming with you. He was rejecting you, sending you on your way. You’d misinterpreted everything. The pain from another male dismissal pulled a sob from you.

“Hey, please don’t cry, Y/N,” Ethan said, elbows on the window ledge. “It’ll be okay. This guy’s gonna get you home and you’ll be alright.”

You sniffed and nodded mumbling a thank you for the cab fare. He waved it off. “The least I can do. Feel better.” And then it hit you: he thinks you’re sick or drunk or something.

“Thank you, Ethan.” And you gave him a watery smile. He really was a nice guy; sending you home so you would feel better.

He laughed and extended his hand through the window. When his fingers wrapped around yours he tugged your hand to his lips and gave it a quick kiss. “Take care and be safe.” He waved you off and you called out a goodbye as the cab pulled away.

***

Even though Ethan had been wonderfully sweet in getting you home, all you could focus on was the disaster of a night as the cabbie weaved in and out of traffic. Tears fell unimpeded leaving tracks through your makeup and landing in your lap. Bucky’s face swam up in your mind’s eye and his words chanted through your head, “What’s with the getup?” No, ‘you look nice’ or ‘wow’ or anything that sounded remotely like a compliment. Just bewilderment as to why you were wearing something girlie, something that any other woman could wear and look amazing in, and therefore something so completely un-you.

…Why is he even friends with me anyway? That wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed your mind since you’d met James Buchanan Barnes. And the more you dwelled on it over the years, the more concrete your theory became: you just happened to be there when Bucky first became an Avenger. Really. It was that simple.

You weren’t some great beauty or astonishingly proficient spy. Your bank account was downright dismal, the only ‘connection’ you had was that Kenny from Mario’s Pizzeria on 35th and Broadway recognized your voice when you called, and you weren’t even the overall top field agent of your class. Becoming an Avenger had been an accident. They needed a sniper, a long-distance agent, after Clint had been sent on an eight month mission to who-the-hell-knows-where and you were a perfect marksman, they just over looked the fact that your hand-to-hand record was deplorable and if you ever had to run for your life you’d die. When Clint returned you thought you’d get the old-heave-ho to the curb but that never came, they kept you around and you and Clint backed up the rest of the gang, playing games of who could hit the furthest target and running kill tallies, something of which Captain America did NOT approve.

And then Bucky, fresh outta cyro, came and ruined everything. Not really. He just ruined you…with his stupid, perfect face and annoyingly stunning smile, and just being the most amazing person to ever exist on the planet. And he had been an amazing soldier. His record in the Howling Commandos made you drool. In fact, upon finding out that he had been a sniper during the war, on top of his kill record as the Winter Soldier, had you packing you bags before he’d even set foot in the tower. There was no way in hell you could beat that guy in a battle for a spot on the Avengers! It was like challenging Wayne Gretzky to a hockey match or going up against Michael Jordan in a dunking competition! But Bucky didn’t want to be an Avenger. That much was evident when Steve practically dragged him through the tower and introduced him.

As the neon light of New York City flew past the cab’s window in a rainbow blur, you mulled over memories of Bucky…

Steve, like the golden retriever that he was, was bounding with excitement as he introduced his best friend to his team. His smile spread from ear to ear as he babbled on and on about Bucky Barnes, international man of broodiness. Because that’s what Bucky did when he first arrived. He brooded. Grimaced. Glared. Grunted. And sat out of missions and closed himself off from everybody but Steve, who was gradually losing his puppy-like glee, until you finally decided you’d had enough and barged into his room sans invitation, through a rife scope in his lap, and said, “Get your gigantic, melancholic ass outta this room an’ down ta the range this instant or so help me I will put more holes in ya than a slice’a figgin’ Swiss cheese. I am sick and tired of waitin’ around ta get the boot outta here and I’m not leavin’ ‘til I know my replacement is up to scuff.”

And that’s really how it all started. Bucky had seemed taken aback by both your abruptness and confession that you had thought he was there to take your place. But finding out that you were a sniper had given him a reason to talk to someone other than Steve about something other than his feelings or his arm or how weird the world was now. He could talk to you about weapons. So he did. He could debate with you over the best perches, stances, sighting scopes, bullets, and rifles. So he did. And as it normally seems to go, things got easier and a friendship blossomed and eventually you and Bucky could talk about everything and nothing at all.

But, and you often reflected on it sadly, if you hadn’t just happened to be around, to be in his vicinity, and have crippling anxiety that was slowly making you insane with worry as to when you’d be served your termination papers, you probably never would’ve met Bucky. And you didn’t know what would be worse: never having met such a remarkable person? Or going through life knowing that if not for extraordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t be your friend at all…

Your phone jingled and Steve’s name flashed across the screen, pulling you out of your head and back to the world. Saw you leave with some guy…be safe… :) You cringed with embarrassment. Steve actually thought you were gonna get some but that was far from the truth. And you didn’t want to admit it…because you had actually thought the same thing, that you’d successfully gotten a guy to like you, but that wasn’t the case at all. All you'd stirred up in Ethan was pity. Your cheeks burned with humiliation and a heavy weight settled in the middle of your chest, pressing harder and harder against the muscles and bones with each passing moment.

All good. Don’t wait up. ;) God, you felt so fake sending that back. It wasn’t a downright lie but it insinuated that something was going to happen with Ethan when in reality you were going to go back to the tower and ugly cry on the shower floor. It was so deceitful, playing yourself up. And for what purpose? To save face? For who? Nobody but you cared about what did or didn’t happen tonight. You could’ve told Steve the truth, why didn’t you? Why lie? Because I’m a piece of shit and I can’t do anything right.

***

It was just after midnight when the elevator opened. Cinderella’s back. Just as ugly and lame as ever. The ball was awful. The prince didn’t fall for the spell. She still has her shoes; he won’t be forced to come find her. Thankfully, no one else was hanging around the living room. Tony was probably tinkering around upstairs in the lab like he did most nights since Pepper left. The others were asleep, no doubt, in anticipation of their upcoming desert mission. You were all alone to wallow and stew over what had happened in the club.

Taking in a wracking breath you allowed the tears to fall openly as you trudged towards your room with your shoes dangling from your fingers. Loud, hiccoughing sobs escaped into the once silent room as the bedroom door clicked shut behind you. It was all too much. Too humiliating. You’d allowed your hopes to get too high for this little scheme; as if it could really work and Bucky would actually fall for it.

You sunk back against the wall and slid to the floor, wrapping your arms around your knees. Ferdinand chirruped from his nest of blankets and you heard his soft landing as he leapt from the bed and onto the floor to investigate. His whiskers tickled your leg as his cold nose sniffed all of the weird outside smells: perfume, booze, cigarettes, and crisp night air. He eventually squiggled his way to sit in your lap allowing you to wrap your arms tightly around him, wailing into his fur and lamenting about your failed endeavour to be a proper girl.

The worst part was that you naively thought that it would work. That it would be like those movies. Get some new clothes, get a makeover, act like a girl is supposed to act and you’d get the guy. Where had you gone wrong? An entire month’s paycheck had been blown on an overpriced, and frankly uncomfortable, wardrobe and you’d gone and put yourself out there only for it to be dismissed in less than ten seconds. Why didn’t it work?

You banged your head back softly against the wall as you cried. Why? Why? Why? The vibrations must’ve been too intense because suddenly your head was throbbing in pain because all one thousand leather-bound pages of The Chronicles of Narnia had dislodged from the shelf and come tumbling down.

“OW!” you yelped, rubbing your head and sending Ferd scrambling for cover far away from anymore raining literature. “Motherfucker…” you mumbled. And as you looked up at the shelf, seeing all of the fantasy books surrounded by Funko Pop! figures and faded movie posters, it dawned on you: this was the problem. All of this. You had changed everything on the outside but you didn’t change you. You’d only created a façade and , clearly, a poor one at that.

All of this crap. This wasn’t normal. Not for normal girls, anyway. You were too weird, too masculine, too enthusiastic with your interests. Too big. Too ugly. Too odd. Always ‘too much’ in every way…

The makeover and flirting didn’t work because you were still you. …can take the girl outta the fandoms but can’t take the fandoms outta the girl… Of course Bucky wouldn’t be fooled by such a sorry excuse for a transformation! He knew what was underneath it all. He knew about your fandoms, about your day dreams of fictional characters in made up worlds, about your childhood dreams of being a fierce warrior and a swashbuckling pirate off hunting for treasure (no princess fantasies for you!), about your obsessive need to surround yourself with toys and memorabilia from the plethora of films, television shows, comics, and books you drowned yourself in. It was so obvious now how stupid you'd been. For Christ’s sake, you lived with spies! They could see a lie a mile away and yours had been so terribly obvious and poorly constructed that it might as well as had a blinking neon sign point right to it yelling, ‘Fake! Fake! All Fake!’

Wiping at the snot from your nose, you stood up and walked to the bed where you had shed your clothes while getting ready with Wanda earlier in the evening. And there it was, thrown haphazardly on your blanket looking as worn and frayed as always: “Talk Wookie to Me”.

Your lip curled as you looked at it. This. This was the problem! All of this! All of this shit had to go. Bucky didn’t want you and it was all because of this. In that moment that stupid shirt represented everything you despised about yourself. You spun around, glaring at your possessions; they spoiled everything. Things that once brought you comfort in a world that felt alien now made your insides churn with loathing. You couldn't stand the sight of them.

Quickly shedding the dress and the spanx you’d stuffed yourself into underneath, you flung the fabrics against the closet wall and changed into a rarely used over-sized black t-shirt and some sweats. Plain. No graphics or logos. Nothing on them. Nothing. Nothing that could in anyway embarrass you. Tonight, you were convinced, you’d failed at being a real girl. And if that meant you'd be stuck like this. As this—this fat, disgusting—thing—well, that wasn’t acceptable. You wouldn’t be this anymore. You’d be blank. Like the shirt you were wearing. Empty. Void. At least then I won’t be a shameful, ugly, pathetic, lovesick, reject, PUNK! anymore. I’ll just be nothing. Get rid of everything. Hot tears poured down your face. Starting with this.

Snatching up the “Talk Wookie to Me” t-shirt, you marched out of your room with Ferdinand hot on your trail, and out into the kitchen. Balling up the offending fabric between your fists you ripped open the trash can and stuffed the shirt down on top of a day’s worth of discarded food ignoring the cold pang in your chest as you walked away and heard the lid fall shut behind you.

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