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randomoranges · 3 years

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so this is the 3rd lyric from the song, but i’m trying to keep up with the fic-thing-whatever and ill get to the other parts later. the momentum is going and im trying to match it and such

lamao this reminds me of 2010 and when i wrote a chapter of a fic to match all of canadas medals. good times. that was - hard and a rush

also i made this into snippets of moments in the same day. to - make it shorter. even though it turned into an 8 page tiny monster lamao.

ANYWAYS

DO YOU LIKE SPORTS. DO YOU LIKE FEELS. DO YOU LIKE NEUROTIC SPORTS SUPERSTITIONS

well, you will be served

Rouge comme le sang qui nous coule à travers

July 5th 2021

When Edward woke up that morning, he expected to find Étienne curled up by his side and to splurge and indulge in some good morning cuddles. Instead, the spot besides him was empty and cold. He sighed to himself and after waiting for a bit, in case his boyfriend made a reappearance, he shuffled his way to the kitchen, where he might find him.

Truth to form, Étienne was there, already more or less dressed, drinking what couldn’t possibly be his first cup of coffee in the morning out of one of many Habs cups Edward had spotted in the last twenty or so hours.

“Morning!” Étienne sounded a tad too cheerful, but Edward ignored it and made his way to his boyfriend where he could properly snuggle and feel that blessed beard against his skin for a moment. Thankfully, Étienne was never one to deny any sort of physical touch and wrapped his arms around him, before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

There was a reason as to why Edward had chosen this particular time to visit. For starters, he absolutely did not want to miss out on the beard and with the playoffs wrapping up shortly, he knew that his time was counted. On top of that, Edward knew how the people of Montréal took to the Habs losing this far into the playoff run and the down Étienne would feel if that happened.

It wasn’t that Étienne’s mood solely depended and fluctuated because of the hockey, but with so many people being emotionally vested in the team, their winning or losing would ultimately have an impact on Étienne. Now if they won, well, Edward wanted to live vicariously through it. Plus, there was something quite wonderful in an Étienne who was that jubilant and ecstatic. However, if the Habs lost, Edward wanted to be there for emotional support and also to make sure that the slump wouldn’t eventually tie in with one of Étienne’s own spectacular, unrelated to hockey, depressive episodes.

“Plans for the day?” He asked, perfectly comfortable in the crook of Étienne’s neck.

“Well, funny you should ask,” Étienne started and Edward had visions of intense biking up the mountain in the oppressive humidity or something as ridiculously insane, “I – have an errand to run, but I don’t want to impose on you.” For some reason, Étienne sounded a little nervous about this errand and Edward didn’t understand why.

“So? Go run your errand. I can come with you if you need help.” So long as it didn’t involve standing in the scorching heat, he was fine.

“No, no it’s fine! I appreciate you wanting to help – but, I don’t want to bother you, really.”

Edward stepped back and took a good look at his boyfriend’s face. Something was up.

It took him a moment, but then it clicked.

It had to be one of his ridiculous pre-game rituals he had completely forgotten about. He almost groaned. Étienne was anal about his rituals to bring the Habs good luck. Downright neurotic, really and Edward had been victim to many séances of Étienne doing the most ridiculous of things that he swore would help his team win. (To be honest, Edward did wonder, deep down, if maybe Étienne wasn’t on to something, considering the fact that the Habs had won 24 cups in their history, but he wasn’t about to say any of that out loud.)

“Do I want to know what crazy task you’re going to do?” He asked.

Étienne gave him another nervous smile and tugged on his beard, “It’s not that crazy, really...” He murmured and Edward feared for the worst.

“What is it this time? Putting your left sock on before you’re right one? Talking to your posters? Building a puck pyramid? Prepare a specific meal?”

“Please, that was last night and this morning. I need to go to the Oratory.”

Edward’s face blanched. Of course Étienne would go to the Oratory. He had forgotten all about it.

“You’re kidding.”

Étienne scoffed, “I am not kidding, Édouard. This is very serious. I need to make my pilgrimage to the Oratory, climb the steps on my knees and then light up a candle for the Habs’ victory tonight.”

Edward remained silent. He knew better than to argue or say anything about it. Étienne took his rituals very seriously.

“My issue is that you flew all the way to spend time with me and I don’t want you to think I’m just abandoning you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Edward said with a chuckle, as he finally decided to grab a mug that didn’t have a Habs banner, a players number or Youppi’s face on it, and poured himself some coffee, “You go do whatever it is you need to do and I’ll acquaint myself with your glorious pool.”

“Are you sure?” Étienne twirled the hem of his shirt around his thumb and followed after Edward when he headed for the table.

“More than sure. I don’t want to be held responsible for your team losing if you don’t complete your set of rituals. Plus, I’ll be fine here and I can spend more time with Mercury.”

“Sure?” Étienne asked again.

“Yes. I promise.” It wasn’t as if Étienne would be out for the entire day anyways.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!” Étienne was careful not to topple the coffee out of his hands, but still wrapped Edward in a tight hug.

In all honesty, Edward was a little overwhelmed to be sitting in the Bell Centre. There were so many people and so many lights that it was quite dizzying. After over a year of leading a quiet life at home, this felt like too much too soon, but at the same time, the energy was electrifying.

“Can you believe that the last time I was here for a final, you were also here?” Étienne said excitedly as they settled into their seats. It was crazy to think that Étienne looked tame in comparison to some other fans in the arena, even if he was wearing one of his many Habs jerseys, his Habs pants, his Habs shoes and most likely other articles of clothing he couldn’t see.

“Really?” Edward thought about it for a moment, “Shit, you’re right – so does that make me a lucky charm?” He joked, “Do you need to rub my head for good luck?” He laughed, but then when he saw the serious look on his boyfriend’s face he stopped. Étienne looked at him and seemed to be debating this for a moment. He had definitely shot himself in the foot with that idea.

“Better off not taking any chances,” Étienne said as he rubbed Edward’s head for good measure, much to Edward’s chagrin.

“Are you happy now?” He asked, when Étienne was done.

“Maybe. I would’ve been happier if you would have let me dress you for the occasion. You’ve got to be the only person here who’s not wearing something Habs on them.” He pouted.

Étienne had offered to lend him anything from a tank top to a signed jersey, with everything in between, but Edward had refused. For as much as he enjoyed being at the arena, there were still team loyalties he had to respect and that would be going too far.

“No I’m not, look, there’s a few people wearing Tampa jerseys.” He pointed out.

Étienne didn’t seem to think he was very funny, “That’s not the point, Édouard!”

“Fine, but look, I wore a white shirt – this is as far as I’ll go.” It was a neutral colour and – well, both of their teams had white somewhere in their jerseys.

“Tampa is playing in white.”

There was no winning this one.

“My jeans are blue and my blood is red?” He tried and he only got a death glare in response.

The one thing Edward had always loved about watching a game with Étienne, regardless of whether it was a season or playoff game, was that Étienne knew a lot about hockey – more precisely the Habs and he loved to share his knowledge – especially when he was stressed. (Not that Étienne ever admitted to being stressed about a game.) It was endearing the way he would blabber on and all Edward had to do was listen.

“This has been such a crazy playoff run,” He started, “Like – no one expected them to come this far and it’s been such a boost to the morale of the city. For as much as hockey has its issues, it also brings people together, and I wish there was more of that. Walking around the city these past few weeks has been something else. You meet people and hear their stories – about how they got into the game – where they’re coming from, who they’re here with. It’s beautiful. Kids who are living their first real playoff run. Older people who remember 93, 86 and the runs in the 60s and 70s. It’s been surreal! I’m just – I love these people – my people and the way they’ve just run with this as well. Hoisting orange cones as Cups and living the magic.”

“I know it might end tonight, but whatever happens – it’s been such a great run. I mean, obviously, it would be really great not to get swept. That would just – no. Do you know that the last time the Habs were swept in the final was in 1952? I don’t think the people would be able to handle that. You don’t make it to the final to get swept. Tampa can go and win at home, but to be swept?! No thanks.”

Edward knew all too well about being swept. At least the Habs had – avenged the Oilers. He supposed.

“And, also, on that note, do you know that the Habs only ever lost the cup once at home?”

“Did they now?” Out of their twenty-four that was quite the feat, really.

“Yes! And you’ll never believe what team did it!”

For some reason, Edward felt like he did know, yet the answer escaped him at the moment.

“The friggin Flames! I had to sit and watch Calvin’s stupid face light up like a goddamned Christmas tree when they won. I never thought I was going to live that one down!”

Now he remembered.

To be honest, he’d tried to forget.

It had been the most awkward of times, really.

For starters, Étienne had invited him to come watch the game with him. He’d agreed. If it meant spending more time with Étienne, he would’ve gone anywhere. Had gone to many places.

He’d just – forgotten one minor detail.

Calvin.

This was the second time, really, that the Habs and the Flames had met for the final. The first time had been awkward as well. In its own way. It wasn’t even with the fact that he was – involved with Étienne and Calvin was his friend and could not know about his involvement with Étienne.

It had – more to do with the fact that – the Flames had – impeded Gretzky and the Oilers from getting their third cup. He’d been – resentful to say the least.

Yet, Étienne had hesitated going out to Calgary to see them team, but then Calvin had asked him to convince Étienne to go. As a power move? To show off? He’d never bothered finding out. But, Edward had spun the idea to Étienne, telling him that wouldn’t it be nice to see the Habs extinguish the insufferable Flames at home?

Étienne had agreed.

They’d gone.

The Habs had won.

And Calvin – hadn’t even really cared.

His victory had been in beating the Oilers.

The bastard.

1989, however...

Shortly after Étienne had invited him, Calvin had reached out, saying that wouldn’t it be nice to go out and watch the game in Montreal. He had seats with the execs in their special section and they could make a whole trip out of it! Heck, the Flames might even win the cup! And – wouldn’t that be something! The Cup back in Alberta!

It had been very hard for Edward to tell Calvin that he already had Other Plans. Yet, without missing a beat, Calvin had told him that he should totally tell Étienne to come watch with them and that Edward didn’t need to worry about lodging, as they could share the hotel suite together.

He forgot exactly what he’d ended up telling both Calvin and Étienne, but somehow or other, the three of them had found themselves sitting in Calvin’s section, while Étienne had grumbled all along about having better seats than whatever this garbage was.

It only went from bad to worse as the Flames won and Calvin all but gloated, while Étienne threatened to set the city on fire. It wasn’t that Étienne had accused him of throwing him off, but Étienne had reminded him, more than once, that clearly, because he hadn’t been able to sit at his usual seat, the Habs had lost.

(Again, Étienne was anal about his superstitions and rituals.)

“Well, here’s hoping they don’t lose at home and get swept. Good vibes only,” Edward told his boyfriend before Étienne could get in a tizzy.

“Yes, you’re right. Anyways, it’s sort of thanks to the before last game against the Oilers we’re here anyways. Habs needed one point to assure their spot and that tie brought them to the playoffs, even if they lost in overtime. It made sure the Flames couldn’t sneak in, so, thanks? I guess?”

Edward chuckled remembering that particular video call.

“See, I told you, good luck charm.”

For good measure, Étienne rubbed his head again.

It was hard not to get wrapped up in the game, regardless of who was playing, even if it wasn’t his team. This was a playoff final game and both teams were trying their best to win. Even though the first ten minutes or so made it seem as though Tampa was going to finish this off without mercy, the Habs, somehow, managed to take the lead twice. Étienne kept on saying that some of the ghosts had clearly finally arrived and that some miracle had been cast on them by the three legends watching from the box.

Regardless of what it was that had brought the score to 2-2 with few minutes left, Étienne was clutching his arm like a lifeline and Edward was convinced there would be marks there when his boyfriend would let go.

“Please, please, please, please, PLEASE,” He chanted as the puck went one way and then the other. He clutched Edward’s arm even tighter whenever Tampa got close to scoring and whenever the Habs missed a shot.

It finally seemed as though the Cinderella run would come to the end with that last double penalty, which continued in over-time, yet somehow or other, the Habs managed to kill it and then, by another miracle, or maybe a clever game of pass-the-puck, managed to score in over-time.

Considering the fact that there were only three-thousand-five-hundred people in the Bell Centre, the resulting collective scream made it feel as though the place was packed to the brims.

Edward got swept up in the momentum of it all and found himself standing with all the other Habs fanatics, yelling and screaming.

When he turned to look at Étienne, his boyfriend looked jubilant and ecstatic. It was such a good look on him and it made Edward’s insides warm at the sight. Étienne deserved to feel this happy all the time, really. If there were a few tears at the corner of Étienne’s eyes, it only made him look lovelier and Edward did his best to school his face in the most platonic of smiles.

“They live!” Étienne yelled over the continued shouting, “They did it!” He said, even giddier as he kept on jumping up and down, waving his playoff flag with all the other people in the Bell Centre.

It was magical, really – living a playoff run like this one. He was glad he could be part of it – somehow, even if it was only for the last stretch of it.

“You know, no matter what happens next, I’m at peace. They fought and they’ve kept fighting from day one and – of course I want them to win. God, I want it so bad, but I’m just – really glad they brought it to game 5. And – I like to believe that – that they’ll be back. For game six. I’m just – I’m happy.” Étienne said, voice thick with emotions as they finally managed to step out of the Bell Centre. Some of the earlier euphoria and adrenaline had tempered down and Étienne was a little calmer by now.

“If any team can do it at this point, it’s certainly yours.”

Étienne beamed at him as they walked down the street, away from the crowds still chanting and yelling and celebrating, off the beaten path for a longer way home, if only for some fresh air and a quieter moment to re-center themselves.

“Yeah – you’re right,” He trailed off with a small smile. Étienne made to grab his hand, but knowing that there were still so many people out, he let their fingers brush against each other instead. “Everyone’s so happy – so proud of the city... I hope the feeling lasts.”

Edward made a quick grab for his hand and gave it a squeeze, before letting go. He wanted to tell him that the hockey didn’t matter. That this city was more than just a glorious hockey history. That he was proud of him. Of what he’d done. Everything he’d worked for outside of hockey. For himself. For the city as well. And that he had more worth than he realised. To him. To others. But – that was a talk for later. Right now, it was time to enjoy the moment – bask in it. Celebrate the victory.

“Let’s go home, yeah? I want to celebrate with you.”

Edward nodded and kept step with him as they made their way back to Étienne’s place, where once safely behind closed doors, they could properly celebrate together.

FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #projocanondoko #fic #shoutout to allbeendonebefore for giving me intel on how 86 and 89 woulda played out lamao #the things u realise yrs later once u have a stronger timeline ha ha ha ha

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

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family baking time

summary: can you do a reddie x daughter where she has a dream about eddie dying and then they comfort her? like basically how we would want them to comfort us about how our souls were crushed from watching CH2 lmao

The sheets stick to Luna’s body as she desperately tries to escape them, kicking her legs out, the same way a toddler experiencing a tantrum does, dislodging the sheets in the process. The remnants of the nightmare cling to the back of her mind, like clouds obstructing the view of her normal brain, clouding her judgment.

She escapes the muffed room and trades it for the living room, can’t stand to be alone any longer without any conformation that her dad is in fact not dead, but alive and kicking. The hallway is brightened by the distorted images on the television, the volume so low it’s nothing more but a murmuring setting taken advantages off by Richie to focus on his writing process.

Luna can hear the ticking sound his keyboard makes, furious and fast paced, the way he goes when a new idea pops in his head and he has to write it down in that very moment. Under normal circumstances, Luna would find something else to do or wait to interrupt him, finding it difficult and off putting for disrupting his lively hood. Not that Richie minds her intercepting his new materiel, in fact, some material only came to be after Luna gave her input, but she does mind. But the nightmare douses her in an unhealthy amount of adrenaline, and she has to get shake it off, to prove to herself and her traitorous mind, that her dad and pops are fine, and she’s just making things up.

‘Pops’, she whimpers, blocking his sight of the tv, not that he was looking in the first place. Richie peeks up at her, and freezes mid-tap, shoving the laptop off his lap and floundering over to his daughter. He fosters her with his arms, rocking them back and forth. Luna bawls harder, digging the heels of her palms in her eye sockets to will herself to stop.

‘Kiddo, what’s going on?’ Richie asks her panickily, mentally checking over any possible sort of information. She didn’t go to bed upset, and as far as he knew, he’s pretty confident his daughter tells him everything, she didn’t argue or fight with her friend either.

‘Talk to me Lu.’

Luna weeps in hurdle of sobs, shaking her head when it’s obvious she can’t explain with the way she’s acting at the moment. Richie, frightened of the whole ordeal, understands that he cannot do any of this by himself.

‘Eds’, Richie yells at Eddie, sleeping soundly and heedless to the drama unfolding, the name sounds shaky and breathy at first, not nearly loud enough to stir Eddie from his rem stages of sleep, and then Richie bites back his bile and calls out louder. ‘Eddie.’

‘Richie’, Eddie answers, instantly alert even with the bouts of sleep, something he does because he’s not fully sated with the idea that Pennywise will never come back. He scrams in the living room, weaponizing a vase, but leaves it behind when he sees the reason Richie howled at him was because of their daughter.

‘Luna what’s going sweetheart?’

Eddie’s fight or flight is instantly shifted in gear, hands fluttering all over Luna’s body to detect any visible injuries. When he can’t find any, he grabs her a tissue and hands it over to her, so Luna can dab her tears away.

‘Settle down, it’s okay.’ Eddie calms, shooing both Richie and Luna over to sit on the overweening soft carpet. The carpet was Richie’s pick, who specifically searched for something so Luna as a child could amuse herself without having to do it on the unrelenting hard floor. Now a days, it’s mostly used during her sleepovers, or while watching a movie.

There’s goosebumps all over Luna’s body, and they have nothing to do with the chill that comes sweeping in alongside a cool spring night.

‘Did you have a nightmare, Luns?’ Richie inquires gently, all too familiar with those himself. He recognizes the signs of one in Luna, but unfortunately clueless on how to fix it. Richie’s coping mechanisms are not ones he wants to pass on his daughter.

‘Yeah’, she sobs out, sagging backwards on the carpet so she’s laying flat down, staring up at the ceiling. After a beat of hesitations her dads mirror her position.

‘Oh fuck’, Richie complains mere seconds after upholding the stance, rolling his shoulders to work out the cricks developing in his upper back. ‘I’m too old for this shit.’

‘Since when are you suddenly too old? Yesterday you swore to us you could run a marathon in your sleep.’

Luna giggles, her dad and pops bickering like everything is normal and no one is hurt eases her mind off the edge of a breakdown.

‘I’m glad to understand that my suffering is funny to you young lady’, Richie utters, smiling himself.

‘It’s not’, Luna confesses, because even though Richie was joking, the mere visions of her dad being impaled is vividly being replayed and repeated in front of her very eyes. She blinks against the onslaught of tears and picks at the soft cotton under her to refrain from whipping her eyes again. They’re already burning, and the more she rubs, the more she’ll have trouble with it later.

‘Luna’, Eddie says miserably, taking her hand and holding it between his own, ‘We’re here.’

‘I had a nightmare. And you died dad’, Luna cries, flipping over so she cry in her dad’s t-shirt. ‘I’m sorry. Pops and me came home and the house was so empty because you were never coming back. I looked for you everywhere and expected you to be behind me at every turn but you never were.’

‘Listen to me’, Eddie explains firmly, sitting up and planting his hand on his hips to make himself as fierce as he could, ‘I am never, ever leaving you or your pops alone. Ever’, he says the last word slowly, drawing it out to allow it to sink in Luna’s head. ‘I will always come back to the two of you. Always.’

‘You big ol’ sap,’ Richie waves off, but his voice is slightly trembling despite his best efforts.

The family of three compile in a bear hug, staying there until Richie’s muscles begin protesting and he has no choice but to move positions, leaving the dog pile with a kiss to Eddie’s lips and one on Luna’s temple.

‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Her pops asks, shimmying his shoulders, coking his head towards the kitchen.

‘Pops I’m never thinking what you’re thinking. Your mind is a weird place.’

‘Well first off all fuck you, second of all you’re right, and third I’m talking about midnight baking,’ he swings his arms in the air and bows through his knees, like a child on Christmas.

‘I think it’s a good idea,’ Eddie agrees, struggling to get himself off the carpet and on both feet again.

‘The two of you are really getting old,’ Luna mocks, ‘But yes, midnight baking sounds amazing.’

The apple strudels are slightly burned, and Eddie mutters under his breath that he’s going to have to extend his visit to the gym the whole time, but Luna loves the family space, and is immensely grateful that her dad is still breathing to spend it with them.

#reddie x daughter #reddie fluff #eddie kaspbrack #eddie kaspbrak imagine #eddie as a parent #eddie as a dad #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier #richie tozier x daughter #richie as a parent #richie as a dad #My writing

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botheredbuck · 4 years

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hey sweetheart, can u pls make a post for me that is pure infodumping ant this ship that you like so i can learn more about it? thankyou please 💖💖

ayes yes i can very much do that hhhhh

so!! ballum!! an outsider’s rundown. first their individual characters + backstory

ben

- is a mitchell which is one of like the major families in eastenders, one that has been in the show since it started

- son of phil mitchell who used to be like a major gangsta but now he’s just kinda old and wrinkly and tries to be scary

- phil is also an alcoholic and he abused ben when he was a kid, and treated him like shit because he wasn’t overly masculine, is also a bit of a homophobe and was really shitty to ben when he came out

- ben’s hard of hearing, so like he had maningitis when he was a kid and lost some of his hearing and so he’s had a hearing aid all his life (another thing that phil picked on him for cause he’s an ass) and recently lost more of his hearing in an accident

- has been in prison for manslaughter oops

- has a daughter from when he was trying to prove that he was straight but it’s okay because lexi is a little badass and we love her.

- was with this guy paul a while ago who got killed and it was hella sad

callum

- was also abused by an alcoholic homophobic dad for most of his childhood, but his family aren’t very important on the square. he has a brother stuart who used to be kinda creepy but like i like him now so like yeah

- was a cook in the army for a while (because he was trying to prove that he was straight, although that’s not confirmed canon it might as well be, just like his ptsd) but ended up coming home after getting injured, also he was in love with this guy in the army but he’s dead now as well

- was with this nice girl whitney for ages but then he cheated on her with ben (they did it in a park oop) and told her that he cheated on the night before their wedding, so the wedding got called off and unrelated but ben ended up getting shot at the wedding which ended up in a lot of angsty pining (he was fine eventually)

- came out to his dad in front of a whole pub worth of people and it was really badass bc his dad’s an ass

- is now a police offer (EW)

okay so!! general basic storyline stuff (im going to try and restrain myself because ive tried typing this out before and it was 1000 words before i even got to like the start of this year)

ben and callum meet while callum is still pretending to be straight and with whitney, but ben sells him a dodgy car (oh yeah ben’s a criminal kinda) and callum confronts him and ben figures out that he’s gay (that is a really iconic scene if you’re looking for one to watch it’s generally just known as the i smell queer scene). then they’re sort of running around pining for ages until callum cracks, goes to confront ben, and they end up doing it in a park.

yay.

the next day callum then proposes to whitney (sensible move), cue another good few months of pining until callum and whitney’s wedding, where whitney leaves him at the altar, and ben gets shot at the wedding reception. he’s fine tho (those scenes are also really good, if you just look up ben gets shot on yt) and they agree to go on a date.

it then takes them a while to actually go on the date bc idk eastenders is weird, and then a little further along the line comes the scene where callum comes out to his dad and like half the square in the middle of a pub, then gives ben a big ol’ smooch in front of everyone (another amazing scene).

then they’re together!! it’s kinda happy for a while!! callum encourages ben to not be so criminal, he kinda does it for like a couple of weeks

and then christmas comes and oooh boy

essentially, in simple terms- ben breaks up with callum to protect him, because ben’s being forced to kill someone for his dad, and that’s really sad. ben gets someone else to kill said guy (except they dont and THAT’S a whole drama) and callum comes back and they do it on a desk and get back together eventually.

THEN

the guy that ben was supposed to kill comes back and kidnaps callum, and this whole set of episodes is generally considered as some of ee’s best (at least by me) so i won’t say too much about these, because if youre gonna watch any i’d reccomed these episodes, it was the eastenders 35th anniversary, and it was actually so amazing in so many ways (i could write a whole other post about that but like yeah).

essentially, something happens and ben ends up losing a lot more of his hearing, which he really struggles with. callum helps him through it, because he loves him (its so SOFT) and then eventually comes the scene where ben tells callum that he loves him for the first time and my fuck that is probably one of my favourite scenes so thats definitely worth a watch. basically, ben struggles with his hearing and the subsequent treatments for a long time, and ends up doing a robbery with his dad to try and prove that he still can, and this is about when ee went on a break over lockdown.

AND THEN COMES EE SEASON 2

(thats a funny because ee have never been on a break in 35years before the break during lockdown so we’ve termed everything post that ee season 2)

oh and its a whole fucking load of drama. fuckin lot of angst. callum becomes part of the police (ew) and ends up getting blackmailed by his boss over ben, and it’s been really hard on him which is why we’re all anticipating him having a breakdown and it’s gonna be REALLY SAD.

now there’s a lot of debate over the current sl that callum has, and honestly there have been bits of it that i liked?? my favourite episode has been the one in which callums brother gets married (stuart and rainie are fucking amazing), and callum also beat up a guy to defend ben’s honour. which could possibly get him in even more trouble because now he’s being super blackmailed by his boss :(((

fuck i just realised how long this is oops

anyways thats about the jist of where we’re up to now?? ee season 2 for ballum has pretty much just been back and forth on callum’s storyline, im kinda liking it tbh?? but there’s a lot of questionable choices unfortunately.

anyways i hope you enjoyed this lmao because i certainly did but im sorry it’s so long (if you want any specific scenes or bits to wacth feel free to let me know hehe)

anywasy sorry again oops hehe enjoy this <3

#im not gonna tag this bc i dont wanna annoy people #answered asks

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daughterofposeidon25 · 5 years

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DaughterOfPoseidon Favorites #3

My hero academia-Kiribaku

🔴 = NSFW

Please read at your own risk. Carefully read tags and enjoy!

When The GC Blows Up by PurplePersnickety

Katsuki squinted at his phone.

CONVERSATION WITH RED RIOT

[6:25pm] Red Riot hey

-> You have been invited to the groupchat 'Pinkamina's Party' by Red Riot. Join?

[6:25pm] Red Riot Baaaaakuuuuugoooouuuuuu ☝️☝️☝️

And We're On Fire by TimetotheTimeless

Twin flames aren't just soulmates; they're a soul split into two bodies. Some people get lucky enough to meet theirs and the connection in undeniable. Bakugou and Kirishima get to find out first hand what it's like to be set ablaze by each other.

To Sound For Another by HarteofPierce 🔴

Kirishima Eijirou learns that his boyfriend has a kink he didn’t know about. He isn’t certain it’s a kink for him too but he’ll try anything for the man he loves. Even when it sounds unreal.

Guillotine by milkofthepoppy

As UA’s classes start learning how to finely control their secondary gender in their third year, a lovestruck Kirishima starts to suspect Bakugou is hiding far more than he's letting on. And Midoriya knows his secrets.

“Holy shit,” Kaminari breathed, and then gave a sharp laugh. “Could you imagine the damage if Bakugou was an Omega?!”

Take a Chance on Me by Fanficismything 🔴

In a world where Omegas can't be heroes, Bakugo calls bullshit and finds his own way to help people, joining other omegas in becoming vigilantes.

Enter Chemical X.

Being a popular hero is Kirishima's dream but it means nothing when you're in love with the illegal vigilante you have to stop.

Enter Red Riot.

Flighting turns to flirting and flirting turns to action. Sooner or later, people are going to find out...

(Love is) An Open Door by EnchantedEmmeline

Bakugou Katsuki had no intention of ever introducing himself to his neighbours. But he also never intended on breaking into their flat either. There was no one to blame but himself, but that wouldn't stop Bakugou from trying to take everyone else down with him.

Part 1 of No one writes songs about the one's that come easy

Here Comes The Bride by Obsessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism 🔴

Kirishima is a vampire. Bakugou is a human bartender. Shenanigans ensue.

Tiny Truths by Quirk Archivist (OneHitWondersAnonymous) for Maplefudge

“The wedding,” Bakugou repeats, though it sounds like he’s annoyed. “Everybody knows you get married when you make a hero agency, stupid. Why else would you get married?”

Bakugou gets hit with a de-aging quirk which shrinks him down to a four year old. Class 1A panics, but Kirishima steps up to the plate to help his best friend (and secret crush) feel safe in a scary situation. Rated T only for language; this is pure fluff through and through!

An Alpha Elite by Obsessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism 🔴

WANNA MAKE SOME QUICK CASH?!

ARE YOU AN UNMATED OMEGA OR AN ALPHA?

HAVE YOU EVER WANTED TO PURSUE A CAREER IN FILM?

Kirishima and Bakugou agree to do a porn together and fall in love along the way.

In Which Kirishima is Manly by TheBrokaryotes

Kirishima is a living contradiction. He walks around spouting how much he wants to be manly, but he spends about 80% of his free time with his endless amount of sisters (when he’s not dragging Bakugo around places), is perfectly comfortable talking to the girls in Class 1-A, and doesn’t seem to have a mean bone in his body. Bakugo is beginning to wonder what exactly Kirishima thinks “manliness” is.

AKA a 5+1 fic… 5 kirishima-centric instances and +1 bakushima kiss ;)

the color of warmth, the scent of smoke by arxaris

Bakugou really needs some WiFi.

He finds it in a coffee shop with a fireplace and a name that feels like an inside joke, just for him. Only problem is, he ends up finding more than he’s looking for, and he doesn’t just mean the snow falling outside or the abomination that is whipped cream on top of hot cider.

Love.

It makes him want to do crazy things. Like kissing. Like trying to get better instead of just running away.

SnapBackChat by arxaris, Mslead 🔴

It wasn’t that Kirishima was some giant creep who sent unsolicited dick pics to his crush, okay. Well - only the first time, but he’d been drunk and had just thought he was being funny. But after that - after that Bakugou had technically been asking for them.

Not directly, of course. Bakugou would never. No, every time Kirishima did this, Bakugou would respond with curses and insults and (thus far baseless) threats, ranging from him ending their friendship to blocking his number to straight up calling the cops.

But regardless of his extreme reactions, Kirishima knew Bakugou wanted the pictures, knew Bakugou wanted him.

Because Bakugou - his best friend, favorite nerd, and probably future husband once Kirishima decided to settle down - knew a lot of things, the smart fucker, but how to work Snapchat wasn’t one of them.

Kirishima’s phone lit up.

Bakugou Katsuki took a screenshot.

Or, Kirishima's a frat boy who likes to play with his food before he eats it.

ghosts beneath ink wash stars by cityboys

Eijirou's evolution from Bakugou's delivery boy to kind of, possibly, someone to come home to.

dusk and dawn by bigstupidjellyfish for SybLaTortue 🔴

sex pollen, again, yea

Wild by lore_shark for arxaris, queenkatsuki, Diesel2311 🔴

Eijirou was fucking radiant, framed in helicopter spotlights and swirling clouds of cement dust, skin sharp, nearing unbreakable, as he wrangled a fourth irate villain onto his shoulder. A shot of liquid heat lanced through Katsuki’s gut as Riot turned and sauntered off towards the waiting police; the planes of his back were damned unfair, all shimmery with sweat and soot and raw power. He knew firsthand what those muscles felt like, shifting and flexing beneath hot palms, the barely restrained ferocity leaking through. His neck flushed with a burn wholly unrelated to the adrenaline and excitement of hero work.

Broken, but Still Good by deviance

“He’s just too combative. I know he was recovered from an illegal Alpha fighting ring and we can’t do much for that, but he’s not receptive to any of our attempts to help. He instantly starts fights with any Alphas that try to reach out to him, even if they aren’t posturing, and if we try to send in an Omega to keep him calm he somehow manages to freak out even more.”

“All we can do it be patient and provide him a safe environment to heal. We don’t know how long he was held captive nor what sort of things he’s had to do to survive.”

“But if no one can get close to him, how are we supposed to help?”

“Have we tried sending in a Beta? If we have one that would be capable of withstanding his quirk, it may be the best middle ground.”

“Red Riot, one of my previous students might be able to. Kirishima’s quirk is hardening and should be strong enough to withstand the Alpha’s explosions. Plus his personality tends to let him make friends with just about everyone. He was on the infiltration team too, so he’s at least minimally aware of the situation. He’d have to be briefed on the specifications, of course.”

“He sounds like the best chance we’ve got."

“Can’t hurt to try, I guess."

Sweetness by MissPlacemat 🔴

“Hey, it’s okay! This kind of thing just happens to people our age, it’s not like we can control what our bodies do when we’re asleep, you know?”

“Dumbass,” Bakugou groaned.

“I know, I know, but it’s -”

“This happened after I woke up,” he stated firmly, finally looking Eijirou in the eye. “Okay?”

In which a night of Twilight Zone reruns turns into a morning of kisses, cuddles and confessions.

No Shirt, No Problem by let_me_wander 🔴

Since Kirishima is a dragon, he's able to regulate his temperature using his own fire when it gets cold.

Since Bakugou is a human, he just shivers and gets goosebumps. And his nipples get hard.

Kirishima notices. Misunderstandings ensue.

Spice, Not Sugar by KTG 🔴

Bakugou was fired from his last job for having a "poor fucking attitude".

What the fuck ever.

Unfortunately, he needs money to eat, and to get money, he needs a job, /stat/.

After getting hired at RIOT, the agency own and run by the number-twelve pro hero Red Riot, Bakugou quickly learns that his boss isn't an average hero--or an average sugar daddy.

Twitter link to finished fic: https://twitter.com/KtgWrites/status/1125866205338726400?s=19&fbclid=IwAR0HIsWreGOBclLJVtfmJAYIPawdOwu3gA8X6sUcLV8d3CZCWSu-cXbXmwg

The Mountain Spirit 🔴

https://twitter.com/lore_shark/status/1197657487513665538

The price for murder was death. They’d chanted it at him for hours, “Death, death, kill him!”, “Die!”,“Child killer!”,“Murderer!”,“Burn him!”. Katsuki bit his tongue and stared resolutely forward.

Especially You, Kirishima by pisceskeith 🔴

Bakugou Katsuki hasn't seen his best friend in about two years, but a certain member of the Bakusquad thought it would be a good idea to host a reunion for Christmas Break. Katsuki thought he could control himself, but something about that shitty-haired idiot made his vision red.

GroundRiot's Biggest Fan by FoolishFortuna for Obsessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism, Emikumaa 🔴

The first time he’d stumbled across a fanfic had been a complete accident. Katsuki could barely even remember what he’d typed in, but he’d been looking for a break down of one of his and Kirishima’s more spectacular villain take-downs, to go through the moves they used and see how they could improve.

The damned thing had even started like a news report! And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed with how it was written. Maybe the details should have tipped him off, but by the time he was half way through, he’d already been invested...

Rattling Chests by chezka

Kirishima had been draped on one of the couches in the common room and laughing at Kaminari’s exaggerated recounting of his Christmas dinner with his family, Bakugou’s heat pressing blissfully all along his side and easily grounding in him the feeling of truly being back in his second home, when Ashido had taken a long breath in, tilted her head back, and sneezed loud and violent.

[...]He was just about to offer making her a warm cup of tea, when he noticed the impossible stillness Bakugou’s body had adopted by his side.

Quietly by chezka

“We’ve been taking the same way to and from school for weeks,” Kirishima grinned, and then when Bakugou frowned at him he put on an affected pout, tilted his head so that he was looking at him through his thick, long lashes, “you never noticed? Am I that easy to miss?”

He could barely finish the sentence before a laugh escaped his lips, and Bakugou rolled his eyes, hit him with a shoulder a little more violently than necessary.

“You stick out like a sore thumb, broom-head,” he grumbled, promptly ignoring Kirishima's whining about his hairstyle when it started coming, “I didn’t notice ‘cause I didn’t care.”

“And now you do?”

Practical Talks by JustAVerySmolPotato (SouthernVices)

“What’s holding you back then?” Kaminari smiled, trying for encouragement, “What happened to being manly about things? Taking a chance on the one you love sounds like one of the manliest things you could do!”

To his credit, the comment caused Kirishima to give a little smile.

“Point taken,” the redhead said quietly, “But there’s more to it than that. I think part of it, for me at least, is all the lectures we’ve been getting lately.”

Oh.

Now it makes sense.

When a practical crafted by Aizawa-sensei forces Kirishima and Bakugou to face a terrible reality, it’s made obvious it’s time for a talk.

The fact that they destroyed the kitchen in the process is just par for the course.

Eijiro Is the Best Medicine by quirkle

Katsuki had only gotten a faded reflection in a train window to see how bad he looked, and that had only given so much insight, but he knew for a fact that he was shivering, teeth chattering, and him and his costume sopping wet and producing a puddle of muddy rain water on the wooden floors. He didn’t exactly blame Eijiro for being worried.

Friends With Dragons by ForbiddenRapture

The young boy reached the massive head of the dragon, which was twice the size of a draft horse's head. He grimaced when he realized the dragon's golden amber eyes were wide open, glazed over and staring off into the forest. Katsuki would have thought it was looking for something, with the way its neck was angled and eye ridge was drawn up.

He reached forward to pat the dragon's jaw, then followed it's dead gaze passed his shoulder with his own crimson eyes. His brow furrowed when he snapped his attention back on the dragon.

"Don't worry. I'll find it for you."

Seized Embers by Emers_Writes

“Look at you, chained and gemmed, like some sort of fucking prize to be won. I’m going to get you out, I promise.” he croaks, voice failing to mask his heartache.

Kirishima gets captured and is being chained up and held captive. Bakugou has to go save his boyfriend, and gets help to do so.

Series

Part 1 of *✩ King & King ✩*

These Words Are Ours by deviance 🔴

Your Words were meant to be something special, something you didn't see coming, a pleasant surprise that brought you the realization that you'd met your soulmate.

Bakugou had facepalmed the day he met Kirishima Eijirou. He wasn't really sure how or when, but if ever there was an idiot in this world who was going to say his Words, it would be this one.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. You weren't supposed to know who would say your Words. It was all supposed to be organic, a surprise.

But if there was another idiot in the world who would dare utter the absolute embarrassment of a babble Kirishima was apparently destined to say to him, Bakugou would eat the redhead's wretched crocs. The only reason he hadn't made an effort to scold him for even having such a thought, let alone voicing it, was because apparently the atrocious phrase is supposed to be what made Bakugou fall head over heels for the guy.

Rip Tide by Emers_Writes

“You i-idiot, you can’t just do a flip off the board. You’ll end up with face scars like Kiri!” Ashio attempts to yell, but it's interrupted by her fits of laughter. Sero’s no better, clutching his stomach as he paddles out to the next wave off balance.

“Hey! I’ll have you know my scars look cool! They’re little lightning bolts!” Denki, ungracefully, crawls onto his surfboard during his remark. He lifts up a leg and points adamantly, showing off his well known box jelly scars.

“How about you guys stop bitching and surf.” Katsuki calls.

Bakusquad enters a local surf competition and feelings get messy along the way.

No, I Don’t Come Here Often. In Fact, I’m Never Coming Here Again. by itswritteninblood

Katsuki had been against this shit from the beginning, and now, sitting across from sunshine himself, he knew why.

Speed dating. What could go wrong?

(Un)Tangled by itswritteninblood for quirkless_loser

"This is the story of my goddamn demise."

Eijirou has dreamt of leaving his tower and breaking his curse since the day his parents exiled him, but only an explosive intruder has what it takes to finally get him out the door.

Remedy by arxaris

DJ Ground Zero’s fame was soaring higher than ever. Bakugou himself, though, was falling, struggling to stay afloat.

The darkness of the year was interrupted by a single light, though. A blinding red one, dancing and laughing in the front row of every Osaka show. The city became his anchor, that smile his lifeline. He was a ray of hope, a promise that things could get better. One day.

Maybe Bakugou was going crazy.

Maybe he was falling in love.

At times, it felt like both.

Bakugou is a Big Softie and Loves His Students: An Essay by minaashidoismywife

Bakugou stares at the door in front of him, nostalgia filling his mind. He can still remember how it felt to stand in front of this very door for the first time 26 years ago. It’s a strange feeling, knowing Aizawa won’t be standing at the desk when he walks through the door. Knowing that desk now belongs to him.

Biting Down by deviance 🔴

Bakugou grinned, curling his hand around the base of Kirishima's tail, digging his nails into the hard scales and watching Kirishima's eyes flare with delight.

"After we eat," Bakugou rumbled lowly, leaning closer, "you're going to fuck me until I can't walk. Got it?"

When you need me by sunflowerstorm

Rule 72A was for ensuring that pro heroes didn’t suffer from the occasionally extreme mental load of their work by allowing emergency responders to assign a 24hour watch over heroes they believed ‘at risk’.

When this rule is applied to Bakugo after a run in with a villain with a Nightmare quirk, he is not at all pleased, all he wanted was to go home by himself and try and forget everything that'd happened. But turns out when that rule means having Kirishima with him, it is exactly what he needs.

Rumors (Keep My Name Out Your Mouth) by deviance

Rumors are rarely true and even rarer are they kind. Still, all it takes is a hint of credibility, just a moment of belief, for a rumor to spread like wildfire, destroying friendships and leaving those hurt left behind to try and make something of the ashes.

astrum by popcap

If his soulmate doesn’t like him, they can get fucked. He doesn’t need to find his other half. He’s enough on his own. Sometimes he’s too much on his own.

Life goes on. Katsuki doesn’t talk to his mother about soulmates anymore.

Hell’s Kitchen by arxaris for Diesel2311 🔴

Apparently bad things really did come in threes, Bakugou thought wryly, as the firefighter closed the distance between them.

Tall, tan, and jacked as hell, he was a strong contender for the single hottest person Bakugou had ever seen in his life. He was covered in soot and sweat that contoured his ridiculous muscles, making them look even more defined, and his clinging black tank top didn’t do much to hide the rest of him, either. His strong cheekbones and jaw had smears of black on them too, and Bakugou had the absurd thought that he wanted to lick them clean.

Bakugou didn’t think it was possible, but he felt himself turning even redder. He would barely have been able to talk to someone as attractive as him on a good day, and he was about to have to explain to him that he’d tried to burn down his fucking house because he was being petty on Twitter.

Super.

Just a Parting Kiss by cherryredriots for lemxnbitxh

Eijirou and Katsuki's first kiss isn't something either of them were prepared for.

Insight by cherryredriots

While taking down a big-time gang, Katsuki faces a villain with a quirk that allows him to look at a person and see the one thing they love most in the world. For Katsuki, that's Eijirou.

Our Lips Set the Sun by Sacramental_Wine 🔴

When he would look at the little mark on the underside of his left arm at night, he would know that somewhere out there someone else had the exact same shape in the exact same place on their body. But he didn’t try to imagine them. He didn’t imagine a face or a name or a personality. When his friends would talk about it he wouldn’t contribute.

Because in his heart he had a feeling that his soulmate would outclass every expectation he could possibly have.

Northwest of Babylon by Sacramental_Wine 🔴

Bakugou didn’t know what compelled him to start working in fucking marble but here he was, staring at the big chunk of rock in his studio with a scowl. Sure, there had been a deal on the material but he never fucking worked in it before. He was more the type to make statues in wood or softer materials.

But here he fucking was, staring at this damned chunk of rock.

Like a Paperback Novel by let_me_wander 🔴

To be clear, Bakugou was a writer. He was a writer of cheap, trashy, paperback romance novels filled with too many heaving bosoms and windswept hair, with whimpering, doe-eyed omegas just waiting for a strong, dashing alpha to sweep them off their feet. When he had set out to pursue his dream of becoming an writer, this wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. In fact, this was basically the complete opposite of what he’d had in mind.

AKA Bakugou reluctantly needs some inspiration.

It Started with a Prank by KTG for SpaceRanger88 🔴

WHAP!

The slap on his arm was followed by a giggle, and Katsuki shoved the person away. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Teniki Michi laughed as he stumbled backward, arms crossed over his gut. He was a tall, lanky man with short black hair and brilliant green eyes. His quirk was pretty unusual: He could swap people’s genders temporarily. The swap usually resulted in the affected person’s quirk changing slightly, too, which made it harder for villains to escape, since they didn’t have time to adjust to the changes.

“S-sorry, boss! I had to, though! Chargebolt dared me!”

“He fucking what?” he snarled.

“Dared me to change the gender of the first person who walked in!”

Katsuki was about two seconds from blowing the idiot up when his words sank in and he realized he was shorter than he used to be. He lifted his hand. The fingers were slim and feminine, still covered in callouses and a little knotted from the hard work he’d put into training, but they were smaller than usual.

He was smaller than usual.

He was a goddamn girl!

My First One And Only by BlackBarBooks, Quirkless-One (BlackBarBooks) 🔴

When Kirishima accidentally confesses to Bakugo, they are both faced with the fact that they have NO idea how to date.

An Explosive Tale of Love and Ships by JustThatObsession

Legends say that the king once kept a powerful weapon locked away in a tower. Bakugou Katsuki wants that weapon, except, once he gets it he soon realizes that sometimes you don't always get exactly what you bargained for.

Just A Touch (Too Much) by Grimmseye 🔴

Prompt from the Kink Meme: Kirishima gets oversensitive after using his quirk too much, and somebody (Bakugou) fucks him until he's so overstimulated that he cries

They Brought us Together by aheartbeatlikehurricanes 🔴

Bakugou was suffering. Like the entire ocean would never be able to quench his thirst suffering and he hated himself, Kirishima, and the entire God damn planet for putting him through it all.

A Dragon's Wants by Obsessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism 🔴

Kirishima wants nothing more to have babies with his strong mate. But as much as he tries, nothing is working.

Is it him? Is he... not right for Katsuki?

Or is there something else at play?

How Goth Am I? by Obsessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism 🔴

Kirishima is a good guy. He's the star athlete at school, helps out the elderly, and always buys his mom's flowers for their birthday.

He does have one secret though.

He's obsessed with the goth boy that catcalls him in the cemetery on his nightly runs.

In the Dark of the Night by arxaris for queenkatsuki 🔴

Chanting sounded through the Colosseum. “Red Riot! Red Riot! Red Riot!”

Red Riot?

“Sero,” Bakugou snapped at the Head of his Council, seated a few meters to his right in the Emperor’s box. “What the fuck is a Red Riot?”

Sero nodded his head to the pit and Bakugou followed his gaze, watching as another gladiator walked out of the gate and towards the center. “New gladiator prodigy. He’s only eighteen, but he hasn’t even come close to losing a fight since he started a couple months ago.” Then, Sero smirked. “I think you’re gonna like him.”

Or, all's fair in love and war.

What just fucking happened? by Dadzawa for ThatFunkyOpossum 🔴

Baku patches up Kiri and there's hella gay feels

Overworked & Underfucked by Kumikirin 🔴

“It’s just not manly to leave your bro like this, after knowing he can’t do anything about it, you know?” Kirishima blabbers some kind of bullshit excuse, and the worst part is that it looks like he’s totally convinced of it. “It’s just a— handjob,” he stumbles over the word, the weight of what he’s proposing hitting him all at once, but he doesn’t stop. “—but if you're not into it we can pretend I didn't just say that.”

Bakugou has to restrain himself from saying that he’s very much into it. Like, a lot, really.

a.k.a Kirishima learns the reason behind Bakugou's grumpiest days, and he offers to help because that's what best bros do.

King of Cooking by IronicVeghead

Bakugou Katsuki here, also known as Pro-Hero Ground Zero. I'm writing this blog to get my so-called friends off my back about my recipes. Read them and fuck off. [Blog posts from King of Cooking: Recipe Blog written by Bakugou Katsuki, with edits and additions by his roommate Kirishima Eijirou. Each chapter will be a blog post.]

cold in the hands that you left me by poetic_leopard

Bakugou forces his gaze level with Kirishima’s eyes—and he’s never been looked at so softly. Bakugou is not soft. If anything, he’s blood spat on concrete.

[or: it's been a month since bakugou's kidnapping & consecutive rescue, but he's still having nightmares. a series of 5 anxiety-peppered, surreal nights where kirishima's the only thing bakugou can allow himself to hold onto].

Achromatopsia by PurplePersnickety

They lifted Bakugou up, Eijirou’s breath sliced into his lungs for a moment, and colour splashed across his vision. But the cavalry battle was about to begin. There was no time to consider it, or laugh, or talk, or do anything but meet Bakugou’s red eyes, red framed by yellow-gold-pale hair, and bare his teeth in readiness.

____

Until you meet your soulmate, you only see one colour. When you touch your soulmate for the first time, the true colours of the world appear.

Unless, perhaps, you're colour-blind.

4 in the morning by efemerald

The memory of the underground raid, despite having been over a month ago, was still painfully fresh in Bakugou's mind: Eijirou, head-to-toe in bandages, barely able to move.

Now, with the same moron heading out on a second mission so soon, Bakugou can't help the rising paranoia that this could be their last meeting. And if it's their last meeting, it means it's his last chance to tell Kirishima how he feels, however he possibly can.

Friendly Reminder by arxaris for queenkatsuki 🔴

“So, let me get this straight,” Uraraka said, looking at Bakugou like he was crazy. “You keep a stockpile of nudes on your phone, and you send them to Kirishima when you get jealous?”

“Correct,” Bakugou said through clenched teeth.

“Even when you’re together, like, out in public and stuff?” He nodded, and Uraraka’s eyes grew impossibly wider. “That’s your ‘system’ to deal with you being overly-possessive? Sexting?”

“It’s not sexting!” Bakugou hissed, blushing harder. “They’re just… reminders,” he mumbled the last word.

“Reminders of what, exactly? That you’re insane?”

‘No,' Bakugou thought. 'That I’m the only one he should be fucking looking at.’

risk & reward by Dreaming_of_Fairys for Koboni 🔴

Kirishima wakes Bakugou up in the middle of the night to end a week long drought of no sex despite the risk of being caught.

oh shit, i'm the grown up. by antheiabelle

Looking back, Bakugou’s life as a hero was nothing like he’d ever imagined it to be.

And yet, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Be Gentle by deviance

"So listen. I've never--" Bakugou cut himself off, grinding his teeth and groaning, face reddening, "had a friend like you," he finally finished, obviously stressed by that much admission. "So whatever, I'm not the greatest at social stuff. Not a surprise. Like I fucking care. I say what I want and do what I want."

Kirishima had to fight to keep from whispering 'So manly' in reaction to Bakugou's honesty, despite everything.

"So I might not be the best at, like, reading signs or whatever," Bakugou waved off. "I'm the best at everything else so it's fine."

Kirishima blinked. "What are you trying to say, man?"

"I mean," he growled, "that I didn't realize you were into me like that. And that I'm not fucking against it. But I don't know shit about dating."

It took Kirishima an embarrassingly long amount of time to process that.

"So...are you saying you like me like that too?" He finally asked.

All I Ask of You by Hejter for ThatFunkyOpossum

Bakugou is scared of thunder, Kirishima sings him a tune from one of the musicals they watch together to help him calm down. Fluff abound.

safe & sound by Authoress

“I don’t need a friendly face,” Bakugou says, purposefully sitting in the seat furthest from Kirishima.

“Okay, maybe not,” Kirishima says. He smiles. “But I made tea.”

No Shoes, No Shirt, No Homo by SummerBummin

The shirtless man passed the stick from hand to hand, then spun it around his abdomen so it was back in front of him. He lifted the stick up, one end pointed directly at his mouth, and swallowed the flame.

“Holy shit.” Katsuki whispered. Then the man opened his mouth wide, and blew out fire like a fucking dragon. Katsuki’s jaw hit the floor as he watched the flames billow out, red, orange, gold, and a hint of electric blue.

Katsuki unconsciously took a step forwards, through the leaf cover and into the clearing. “Motherfucker, that’s badass! How the hell did you do that?!”

The shirtless man shrieked and fumbled the burning stick in his giant hands. The stick slipped through his thick fingers and landed right on his bare foot. He jumped up again, hopping on one foot and swearing up a storm. Katsuki had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep his laughter in.

The Bakugous go on a summer vacation to a gorgeous island and drag their son, Katsuki with them. Bakugou Katsuki is determined that he will not have any fun on this god awful trip... that is until he runs into fire dancer Kirishima, who is very hot— because of the fire of course!

Studded by KTG 🔴

Katsuki's second gender pisses him off. He's just presented as an omega, and if he doesn't get studded--turned into an alpha--before the end of his first heat, he's gonna be an omega for-fucking-ever. Problem is, he needs a willing omega to stud him, and his best friend, Kirishima Eijirou, presented as an alpha.

Or, at least, he smells like one.

All Katsuki knows is that he needs to get studded, and fucking soon.

a tenderness you can't let go by punchmonk

When Katsuki is fifteen, Kirishima Eijirou hands him an orange with a bright smile and zero expectations. It is all downhill from there.

help me get out of my head by popcap

“Don’t let go." "Deal."

Burning by mr_todoroki

Bakugou Katsuki was sent on a mission to eliminate a dragon threatening the citizens in the kingdom. Instead he meets Kirishima Eijirou, an obnoxiously useless traveller who has something he's hiding.

Out of Control by arxaris 🔴

The story of how Bakugou Katsuki accidentally got a new quirk and a new boyfriend in exchange for his favorite sex toy and the security deposit on his apartment.

Sonder by Maplefudge

A collection of snippets surrounding Bakugou and Kirishima's "totally platonic" relationship from the perspective of Class 1-A.

If you want to... by Treeclimbr 🔴

Bakugou interrupts Kirishima's "alone time" in the showers. Things get awkward, Kirishima is oblivious, and our boys dance around each other a little while they figure things out.

take your time with me by Shadow_sensei 🔴

And then Katsuki steps away, breaking away from Eijirou’s body, as if he’s been shocked, because it’s so much, all at once, and it’s overwhelming and his mind is drifting and it’s almost terrifying, to be so fast to lose his composure, just from a simple touch. Is it a sign of weakness, that he can be pulled into Eijirou’s control so quickly?

No, thinks Katsuki. It’s a sign of trust.

oh, the places you'll go by a box of rocks (abundleoftwigs)

Bakugou Katsuki is hopelessly, helplessly, and obviously in love with Kirishima Eijirou.

Too bad the only person who hasn't figured that out yet seems to be Bakugou himself.

(A retrospective on Bakugou and Kirishima's relationship as seen through the eyes of a childhood friend)

Series

Part 1 of oh, the places you'll go

How to Make Bakugou Katsuki a Decent Human Being by drifloon

A how-to by Kirishima Eijirou.

(Kirishima decides to make Bakugou the guy Kirishima knows he can be. Everything else snowballs from there.)

Slow to Start (But Quick to Burn) by mousapelli 🔴

Bakugou is loud, abrasive, and way too strong to be a "good" omega, and he doesn't give half a damn if that's what everybody else thinks. The good news is that Kirishima is 100% into him just the way he is. The bad news is he might be 150% into Kirishima.

Partners by disastergays

In a small village protected from the outside world exists a sort of sanctuary for humans and monsters alike. It has always been said that to every human, there is a monster that shared their soul. Two halves of the same whole. Finding one's other half was a sort of coming of age ceremony, and as children were encouraged to seek out their other half.

Bakugou was the only one that couldn't form a bond with any monster, no matter how hard he tried. Rage boiled beneath the surface as Bakugou shunned not only the village, but the monsters and humans that had come to call it home; running away from the protection of the mountains.

10 years passed since then, and the world-renowned hunter, The King of Beasts, was called to a farming village to deal with a dangerous Riot Dragon.

The meeting soon to follow would change his life forever.

Blood Stains Red by SummerBummin

Kirishima was hunched over the sink, his back to Bakugou. Water ran in a steady stream from the faucet, the silver metal flecked with blotches of red. Kirishima looked up at the sound of the door opening. His eyes locked with Bakugou's through the mirror in front of him and his mouth fell open. It was full of blood.

"Kirishima?" Bakugou's headphones were shoved off his ears and his book bag slipped off his shoulder, falling onto the bathroom floor with a thump.

"Oh, hi Bakugou." Kirishima turned to greet him over his shoulder, a wavering, dumbass smile on his dumb fucking face, his bloody fucking face.

His lips were red and shiny as a cherry, lines of red ran down his chin like a tiger's stripes, and his teeth, god his teeth. They were coated in blood and clumps of who the fuck knows what.

Kirishima's trademark had always been the color red. The bright hue of his hair was something Bakugou sought out everyday, but he never imagined seeing Kirishima red like this, never like this.

Aka Kirishima’s teeth are weird and Bakugou rushes to conclusions (he’s protective, okay?)

Trigger warning for blood description.

Boys Are Stupid by deviance

“Sorry, bro, I'm not going to make it to our study session tonight."

“Why?”

“Ah,” Kirishima grinned almost shyly, “I've got a date.”

Bakugou froze, chest feeling like he'd just been pierced with a lance.

“A...date,” Bakugou repeated, admittedly dumbstruck.

Kirishima smiled. “Yeah, so I'll see you later,” Kirishima said, waving before leaving the room.

So this is what heartbreak felt like. He hated it.

Perfect Fit by deviance

Kirishima had broken up with him with just about every cliche in the book. It wasn't him, it was Kirishima. He wanted them to still be friends. Blah blah blah. Filler, really, as far as Bakugou was concerned. And sure, Kirishima probably meant all those things, but Bakugou hadn't wanted to hear it, considering he'd been too focused on the sound of his heart breaking.

This was why he didn't let people in

Be Patient by deviance

Kaminari groaned. “Why are you two like this?” He demanded, pointing at where Bakugou was stretched out over the couch with his feet in Kirishima's lap. “Why don't you just date already?”

Kirishima sighed. “One day, guys. We will one day.”

Under the stars by popinjayuploads 🔴

Bakugou is obviously stressed out, but refuses to talk about it. Kirishima decides that a weekend camping trip is the perfect thing to relax him. So he tosses a mattress in the bed of his truck and they head out.

Kirishima soon finds out Bakugou needs more than a hike to work out his stress. Luckily, he's more than willing to help out.

Fucking Feelings by Equinurmae

Bakugou isn't great with feelings. Midoriya is slightly better, but the two of them have always had an unusual relationship - even more so when Bakugou bursts into Midoriya's room one night with something important to say. (Hint: he's gay.)

Six Page Spread by indigonow

They're 22 and Bakugou's finally gotten control over his public image. Think more..."bad boy" and less "explosive asshole".

Kirishima is weak (though he always has been).

domestic life was never quite my style by Slumber

Five times Bakugou cooked for Kirishima, and one time Kirishima cooked for Bakugou, as told by their classmates.

it's pouring out here by shizuumi151

With phone, money, and keys in his pocket, Kirishima wandered around the city for an age. With his legs on auto-pilot his mind wandered too. To the new movie that peppered the streets in posters and trailers, a new move he wanted to practise for another basketball play, wondering about how the current arcs for his favourite manga would turn out in the next issue of Jump.

And, of course, he thought about how many of those things he could see and do with Bakugou.

An Obvious Patch by SweetScentences for ComparedFever

In which Kirishima is hurt, Bakugo is stressed, and everything is going to be okay.

Series

Part 1 of Adventures of the Almost Agency

cotton candy hands by chonideno for gabzillaz, Siij

Studying to become a hero requires knowing how to take care of yourself. Sometimes you might need help on the way so if your crush offers to do your hair for you or to give you a well-deserved back rub, it'd be stupid to say no.

A series of soft vignettes in which a love-struck Kirishima and a touch-starved Bakugou care for each other and it's definitely not making their hearts jump through hoops, they’re never this close to kissing, no, they're totally best friends bro

You Have a New Admirer! by Esselle for Ellessey 🔴

'His profile states that his name is Bakugou Katsuki, he's twenty-two and still in college. He likes hiking in the mountains, old cars, and advanced trigonometry. His first date would ideally involve little to no small talk, and very spicy food.

For some reason there is one person, apparently, who admires all that about him.'

When Katsuki is convinced (read: bribed) to try out a friend's glitchy dating app, he's expecting the whole experience to be a resounding failure. Instead he ends up meeting Kirishima, who turns out to be the perfect combination of sexy, sweet, and way too freakin' earnest, all rolled into one easy-to-fall-for package.

one to ten by crunchrapsupreme

Kirishima attempts to climb the ladder of success and weasel his way into Bakugou Katsuki's explosive little heart.

Step one? He has to get to level ten.

Talk Too Much by QuirklessWonder (SouthernSmartAss)

“You talk too fucking much - I’ve also been your best fucking friend for years, chill the fuck out,” Bakugou said. He grabbed another piece of bread, glancing at Kirishima from under his eyelashes. “Also, I fucking agreed to this didn’t I? Clearly I like you too, you dumbass.”

Kirishima managed to swallow down the bread, and then he grinned widely at Bakugou. “You like me?”

“God, you are a dumbass,” Bakugou said, snorting again. “Fucking obviously I like you.”

cultivating something so divine by redriotinggg

"The only people that get to work here are those who can keep up with me. And you’re going to have to prove that you’re one of those people. You understand me?”

Kirishima nods and finds that he can’t stop the smirk that comes on his face. He was never good at backing down to a challenge. It’s terrifying and exciting all at once. “Yes, sir.”

(Bakugou's a world famous vet and Kirishima is his humble, gay new employee.)

parted, and never parted by Authoress

Before going into battle, it’s only proper to make an offering to the god of war. But Kirishima’s run out of things to give.

Kitsune's Pride by kytrin, Mslead 🔴

Bakugo didn't believe in fairy tales, magic or love. All they did was tell stories to entertain those willing to listen to the lies promising a happy ending. His life was one unending disaster of one failed relationship after another, so he didn't put much stock in magic, or in love. Not until a strange oni comes spilling out of his receipe box with a dark secret and an even darker past.

#bnha #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki #kirshima eijirou #kiribaku #kiribaku fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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blapisblogs · 5 years

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So somehow Corey Taylor has now ended up in the place where I’m assuming the other Nostalgia Critic episodes take place, which has all these parody posters of previous Nostalgia Critic reviews and Doug Walker’s YouTube plaques on the walls. Doug, you spent a majority of at least the first half of this “review” beating us over the head with how much you hate Roger Waters’s ego, but then you show us shots like this and expect people to not comment on yours? Of course there is a very slight chance that this might’ve been an attempt at self-deprecation, showing that Doug is aware that “Nostalgia Critic” has just as much of an ego as Waters and he’s just oblivious to it, but given how the rest of this “review” is and how Doug has reportedly acted behind the scenes on other projects, I highly doubt it.

Now you’d think that with Corey Taylor here and the “review” being nearly over that this would be the part where he finally says something, especially since we’re close to one of the few times we hear Bob Geldof sing in the film. You’d be wrong. Before Doug can finish whatever speech he had planned for this part, he answers a call from... some dude asking about the whereabouts of someone called Lucy Lacemaker. Oh boy... So something I’ve been mostly ignoring is that there’s a strange creature that’s popped up briefly a few times throughout the “review”. That creature is Lucy Lacemaker, the creation of someone called Fennah, making a guest appearance in this review because... uh... The Wall had weird animated characters in it? That’s what Lucy starts talking about: how the animated characters’ designs were creative but the characters themselves were terribly underused (“All paint, no ink” as she puts it). If you’ve actually seen the film, then you know that this criticism doesn’t make sense. The animated characters and creatures in The Wall aren’t exactly characters in and of themselves; they’re figments of Pink’s imagination that are either meant to symbolize things (i.e. the black eagle in “Goodbye Blue Sky” being the Nazis who did aerial bombings on England), purposefully one-dimensional caricatures of real people in Pink’s life who’ve damaged him (his overprotective mother, his cheating wife, the abusive schoolmaster), or sometimes even how he sees himself in that moment (the mostly inanimate doll and possibly Judge Worm). They aren’t the main focus of the film or album because the focus is Pink and his internal struggles. (I was gonna say “That’d be like saying that Tamatoa should’ve been the main character of Moana when the film is about Moana”, but... no, that would still make more sense because at least Tamatoa is an actual character in that film and not a figment of someone’s imagination, despite what some grimdark edgelord fan theories say.)

Anyway, it fades to... some sort of alternate universe or dimension or something? Whatever, Doug’s now in this world of weirdos who sing about what they think of the film? I guess? This is a “parody” of “The Trial”, the climax of the film where Pink mentally, well, puts himself on trial for “showing feelings” and culminates in him making himself “tear down the wall”, allowing himself to feel and move on from his trauma. On the one hand I get the most basic line of logic for this “parody” (“The Trial had weird animated creatures, so therefore this parody of it should have weird animated creatures”), but this looks and feels so out of place here. I mean, if these creatures were in a video about Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland movies I wouldn’t bat an eye at it, but for a video about The Wall it feels so wrong. It gets worse when you know that the animated characters in The Trial all have connections to Pink whereas these characters are from a completely different creator with no ties to Doug Walker at all (or even Corey Taylor, who, you know, is supposed to be standing in for Pink). It’s not like Doug doesn’t have characters of his own or that they couldn’t fill in the spaces of the people in The Trial if he wanted to (Chester A. Bum, Devil Boner, Hyper Fangirl, The Devil, Charts Guy, Bill, etc.), so the lack of using them for this and instead using characters from something completely unrelated to his show made by someone completely unrelated to his crew makes it feel impersonal, which is the exact opposite of what The Trial did. It needs to be personal in order for it to have the proper impact on Pink (or whoever’s standing in for him in this case), so removing that element from it takes away a lot of the punch.

I don’t want to be too harsh on this sequence because I know a lot of people have given Fennah guff over it (and supposedly they didn’t take the backlash regarding their part in it very well), but even with how out-of-place it is I have to admit the animation isn’t too bad, especially given that this was all done in about two and a half weeks. Oh yeah, according to Fennah, Doug Walker only gave them about two and a half weeks to do all this animation, which is half of what it normally takes for him to make something like this. What the fuck, Doug? You claim that you worked on this “review” for at least two months (not that it shows) and you only gave Fennah two and a half weeks to animate their parts? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised given how much you overworked your former associates on the set of To Boldly Flee, but I guess you really didn’t learn anything from that. I mean, the least you could’ve done was try to react a little more to all these weird creatures and places you found yourself in for no reason, yet your acting is somehow worse than the performances in other animation-live action hybrid movies you’ve criticized in the past.

But enough of all that, let’s look at the lyrics for this parody of one of my favorite parts from both the album and film. Because fuck me, we’re almost done.

[Lyrics (and snark) below the cut]

[Note: I don’t know anything about Fennah, their webshow Satellite City, or anything else they do; the only character name I know is Lucy’s, so the rest of these are gonna be very crappy physical descriptions. Apologies in advance for that.]

Someone vaguely like Lucy I guess but way bigger and with horns: Right then, Lucy Lacemaker, The court will take a vote On if the film that plays before us Can in any way show some feelings, Ruddy feelings of an almost canny nature From joys to blues

[Lady, if you and these other characters wanted to do a comprehensive analysis of The Wall, then you should’ve done it way sooner and not in the last seven to eight minutes of someone else’s video, let alone the video of someone who doesn’t even really analyze it themselves.]

Five-armed scarecrow motherfucker: I always said I like a well-made ditty

[Well you’re not going to be hearing any of that in this video, dude. Edit: So I thought this said “I always said I like to wear me titty”, which of course makes no sense, but according to another video, these are the actual words. It makes more sense, but that’s still what I hear whenever I stumble upon a video talking about this.]

I will not suffer shitty Fools that bring forth Naught but pity For their lack of wit and wild

[Jesus christ, is this yet another jab at Roger Waters?! I got enough of that from Doug Walker beating it into everyone’s skulls for the last half-hour, I don’t need to hear it from whoever the hell this is too.]

But here we rather find The result of heart and artist I say the music here is joyous!

[At this point I can’t even tell if this is supposed to be a genuine compliment or a backhanded one.]

But with that, we have to say

Black, spiky, horned demon goat thing: Lazy Left in the attic We’re not crazy Constantly dreaming I just wish they’d give us some more time to live

[How is the film not being about you “lazy”? Are you even talking about this film specifically, or just movies with underused cool-looking creatures in general? Also, this seems pretty ironic given that each of these characters (with the exception of Lucy) only get maybe a few seconds of screentime in this “review”.]

Horned kangaroo lizard titty monster with no pants: Lazy, Constantly (???) as being lazy

[This is the one most everyone points to when they talk about the lyrics being unintelligible, and I don’t blame them because I’ve seen this part multiple times and still can’t fully figure out what she’s saying. Also, I’m sorry Fennah, but somebody’s gotta say it: the lip-syncing here is awkward at best.]

Multi-horned Christmas goat motherfucker: Those little shits They’ve done it now We all deserve personalities They could’ve used us Far more often than they did, But no! They had to go their own way

[Again, this film’s not about the weird creatures for a reason: they’re not the focus because they aren’t real in the context of the film and the focus is Pink and his personal struggles. If you want animated characters with creative designs that have more screentime and development, then I have no clue what made you think you’d get it from this film out of all the other animated media out there. Not every animation-live action hybrid movie is trying to be Who Framed Roger Rabbit (especially not this one since it came out years before Roger Rabbit did).]

We’re bored of Alice! We want the Hatter

[Okay, credit where it’s due, I like this tiny bit here by itself. I definitely don’t think it works as a “criticism” of The Wall, but it’s decently creative in a way.]

Just five minutes more, your honor, Them and us alone

Blue Skyrim-looking dragon: Wait! This film’s not bound by characters It’s a visual affair It never aimed to tell a story

[Were you watching the same film that everyone else was, or are you somehow confusing it with the “review” you’re currently in? The film does have characters and does tell a story, and I think it does a pretty decent job at it (even better than the album I’d argue), unlike this “review” which tries to have a narrative but becomes less and less cohesive as it drags on.]

Rather sprawling canvas of Emotion visual splendor And your honor, we can take that home

[Take what home? I don’t even know what your argument is supposed to be here. This just sounds like word salad at this point.]

Tall Sean Connery-sounding werewolf in a striped robe: Maybe There’s more to the picture Just maybe Both sides of the wall

[...Nobody in this “review” actually knows what “The Wall” that the film and album are talking about is supposed to be, do they?]

Sean Connery-sounding werewolf and white lizard thing: There’s a difference between nonsense, after all That and Creation

Mutated cow monster thing on a moon surrounded by jellyfish: Genius and nonsense And creation

[Okay, again, credit where it’s due: the lip-sync for this thing is awkward, but this is the only person or thing in this “review” with a genuinely pleasant and clear singing voice. Shame that she only gets two or three short lines, one of which she has with the previous duo.]

Lucy Lacemaker: The evidence before the court is Incontrovertible There’s no need for the jury to retire In all my years of judging, I have never seen before

[With the exception of one word in that last part, Lucy’s whole bit here is completely lifted from the original. Some of these were already cutting it close to the original’s, but this is just straight up copying it. I don’t know who wrote this part of the “review” (I’ve gotten conflicting information on whether it was Doug or Fennah who wrote this particular parody), but whoever it was, you’ve got some nerve to have characters call the film “lazy” only to later turn around and do this.]

A film so deserving Of both love and wanting more The way it makes you tougher, Makes you think and feel but suffer, Fills me with the urge to decapitate

[Go on, Lucy! Off with his head! Edit: I guess here’s as good a point as any to point out that, at least according to TV Tropes, Lucy is a lesbian who likes to murder people, so apparently that’s supposed to be funny. ...Yeah, no, it’s not. Fuck you, TV Tropes.]

I believe this film is packed

[I’m being generous in assuming she said “packed” at least, because it sound like she’s saying “hacked” but that doesn’t really make sense. Then again this whole bit in this “review” doesn’t really make sense when it comes down to it.]

With much to be revered But the marvelous creatures Should be adored As opposed to being feared

[...You mean you want people to love the animated creatures based on literal abusers and Nazis?]

Tear down the wall!

[What wall?! In the context of this “review” there is no wall! Even if the context here is that there’s a “wall” between nightmarish fantasy and reality, then Lucy and/or Fennah already broke it offscreen before this whole number started. Or are you talking about the film/album The Wall? If that’s the case, then why are you demanding that Doug Walker tear it down when he was already doing that long before you showed up? What did Doug have to do with any of this? What the hell happened to Corey Taylor during all this?! Why did I waste so much time writing all this down?! Why did I do this to myself?! WHY?!]

#Blapis tears down NC's The Wall #long post #bold text warning #capslock warning #very long post #Nazi mention //#abuse mention //#yes I did just somewhat compare Tamatoa to the animated creatures in Pink Floyd's The Wall; the fuck are you gonna do about it

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 7 years

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in general, 2017 for me was…god, I don’t even know. like, obviously, for the US and large parts of the world in general, 2017 was fuck awful. to slightly paraphrase Griffin McElroy, it was a great year for some very specific things (video games, none of which I played because I’m literally always behind, but a lot came out that I want to play, you know, in a few years when the price goes down; and also movies) and an absolute dogshit year for everything else.

for me…I feel like I didn’t do much this year. I don’t think I made any progress to speak of where writing is concerned, which…might be why I feel like I didn’t make progress in general. I guess I mostly held steady on some of the progress I made the year before, mostly in terms of trying to post a new thing on AO3 at least once a month, so that’s something, but so much of my energy this year just went toward dealing with the constant background radiation of the nonstop Politics Shitshow. and I didn’t even DO that much–retweeted a lot, posted articles on Facebook that were almost always completely ignored, called my legislators, made donations, that’s mostly it; the energy was nearly all going toward just…existing in this context. on the other hand, even if I feel like I personally am not doing that much compared to a lot of people and to what I could be doing, this is a huge jump in political/civic engagement by my previous standards, and at least a few people have indicated that they’ve gotten more engaged in part because of things I’ve posted, so that’s definitely a net gain. (this has been a big year for trying to remind myself that little actions matter, in part because they can have ripple effects that you might never see for yourself.)

I did some foreign travel for the first time in several years, so that’s…also something (that seems to be my personal theme for 2017). I made a lot of donations to causes that are important to me, and raised a couple hundred more for my birthday and Christmas (and I got two family members to write their legislators in support of net neutrality), plus another $200ish from the Fandom Loves Puerto Rico fundraiser. My Etsy shop is doing fairly well (even if I’d like to get more attention for the Pride Cap necklaces, because they’re easier than most Funko figures and I think they’re cool and they help support my monthly donation for the Trevor Project). I did some volunteering. I started The Hope Jar, which hasn’t grown like I wanted it to, but I have some other ideas to try and it’s also a net gain if it encourages only a few people. I worked hard on some handmade gifts (more Funko stuff mostly) that the recipients loved, I think. I added even more Loki figures to my little army. I got in a moderately serious car accident and I sprained my ankle; those two things are completely unrelated to each other and also not good, but they were both firsts for me. I beat Silent Hill 3 (on easy mode, and fuck you if you have a problem with that) and mostly really enjoyed it despite the camera constantly trying to kill me. I tried to be more intentional about a lot of things, with varying levels of success, and I’ve tried to be productive with my anger and fear (also with…varying levels of success).

I’m pretty sure I got way queerer and more liberal in 2017 than in any previous year and I expect 2018 to continue similarly, so there’s that. like, it’s been an ongoing process at various levels for at least the last decade, but this year was…definitely a jump. also possibly the first time I really identified with the whole “queer as in fuck you” thing, which is honestly pretty representative of a lot of things about me in 2017.

I survived 2017, is the main thing I think I can say about it. I’m still here (and queer, because fuck you). I did some stuff that mattered, even if it was only in small ways, and I did some things that made me happy despite, you know, everything going on in the world. and I guess my goal for 2018 is pretty much more of the same–to hold steady in the progress that’s already been made, both for myself personally and for larger issues where I’ll just have to keep doing my part and believing it matters even when I can’t see it. sometimes that’s all you can do, I think.

#2017 #new year

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rupertgayesarchive · 7 years

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Suddener Than We Fancy It (6/12)

Michael Jones does the least sensible thing possible and goes on a vacation he booked for himself and his girlfriend… who broke up with him just before Christmas. In his mind, anything is better than spending the holidays alone in his apartment, and the mountain lodge is picturesque, serene, and full of people. Including a photographer named Ryan, who is more than willing to keep Michael company for the week.

Ryan emerged from his room in time for breakfast. Michael tried to focus more on his eggs than the other man – between his friends’ jibes and his conversation with Geoff yesterday, not to mention his own murky feelings on the issue that was Ryan Haywood, he wanted to double down on being cool and calm. Casual, you know. He and Ryan were just two guys on vacation – well, he was on vacation, Ryan was working, but still. They just happened to mutually agree to hang out a lot. Nothing more to it than that.

Ryan sat across from him at the table. “So were you going to make me hot chocolate before or after we go out today?” He dug into a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon, Geoff’s unrelenting stare at the pair of them bothering him much less than it did Michael.

“Um…” He had a moment to collect his thoughts while Ryan ate, eventually tossing out a, “After, probably?”

Ryan nodded, and reached for the cup of coffee he had brought to the table with him.

“Where are you guys goin’?” Geoff asked, putting his elbows on the table, his head resting in his hands.

“A few places, actually, along the mountain ridge on the southwestern side of the park? They’re kind of far so I was gonna take my truck out and drive over to that direction before we actually start walking. Are you okay with that?” he asked, suddenly turning to Michael. “I mean we’ll probably be out for most of the day. I should have asked you, before.”

“No, I’m still down,” Michael replied automatically. It was only afterwards that he bothered to weigh the advantages between braving the tundra with Ryan again and going back to bed where he could curl up in a bunch of blankets and pretend winter didn’t exist.

He still ended up picking Ryan.

Ryan and Geoff were talking about the specific mountain ridge Ryan needed to get to and the few geographical points he needed to take pictures of. More water falls, deep forests, and tall mountains that seemed to scrape the low hanging clouds.

“Just be careful,” Geoff said. “It’s gonna snow this afternoon. Probably not a lot, but the roads up here don’t get plowed often, or ever.”

“We’ll be careful. Worst comes to worse, I’m sure we can push the truck somewhere and get it later, right Michael?”

Michael shrugged. “Yeah, I work out.” He finished his eggs and bacon and was now working on finishing up his coffee. “Does it always snow this much up here?”

Geoff shrugged. “I guess? The locals never said this year was a bad one. I heard we might get an actual blizzard on Christmas, though.” He frowned, rubbing his chin. “I mean, even you two will be in the lodge all day on Christmas, right? That’s like the ultimate holiday.”

“Yeah, after today I should have all the comparison portraits done,” Ryan said. “I got lucky with the weather holding out for most of the week. And Michael tagging along,” Ryan glanced back at him and offered a smile that made Michael’s attention snap back to the remaining dregs of his coffee. Not that his lack of reaction convinced Geoff of anything, but at least the guy had enough tact to not say something with Ryan between them.

“Hey Geoff,” Ryan asked out of the blue, “Did you manage to fix the printer yet?” Michael furrowed his brows. Geoff may have mentioned a printer that needed fixing. Probably the one in his cabin – Michael hadn’t seen anything faintly work related here, aside from Ryan’s laptop.

“Shit, yeah, Griffon and I fooled around with it, added new ink and toner, took it apart, couldn’t find what’s wrong with it. Still can’t. I’m guessing there’s something wrong with the wireless connection.”

Ryan frowned. “Does it have a connecting cable?”

“Probably, but that thing is a few years old and I can’t find the cable anywhere.”

“I figured you out of all people would keep a cable. Especially if you thought you weren’t gonna use it,” Michael offered.

“Oh fuck off, just because I don’t have the urge to catalog and obsessively clean shit.” Ryan looked over at Michael briefly, probably trying to cross the kind of loud bachelor with a penchant for vulgarity with someone who cataloged anything. “Yeah, I looked everywhere I thought it could be but didn’t see it, who knows where it is. I mean, I ordered one on Amazon… but it delivers to the post office, and they’re not gonna be open until after you leave.”

“Damn, well. I guess there’s no helping it.” Ryan sighed. “It was just a nice printer. It could even use the photographic cardstock I have.”

“Maybe some office store in town will still be open tomorrow,” Geoff suggested. “When I get a minute I can look ‘em up for you. They all have weird names, and Google maps only does so much.”

Ryan chuckled good-naturedly. “Thanks – that would be great.” He finished his breakfast a few minutes later, and by then Michael was set to pull on more suitable clothes and head out. “Meet you back here in ten?” he asked Michael.

“Yeah, sounds good.” He could feel Geoff’s gaze on his back as he crossed through the lodge and went up the stairs.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad.”

“You were swerving all over the road!” Michael said, leaving the red truck behind as he naturally fell into step behind Ryan, literally following in his footprints.

“That’s because there was so much snow I didn’t know where the road was!” Ryan protested. “We don’t have snow down South, okay? This is new for me.”

“Yesterday you were literally bragging about how the cold weather didn’t bother you. You can’t have a Northeastern winter without shitty road conditions, Ryan!”

“Okay, but what we were driving down barely constituted as a road, even before the snow.”

They both crested over the first ridge, panting slightly, and Michael blinked. “Oh, I didn’t realize we were this close.”

“Yeah, it’s not bad. I mean, we gotta keep hiking up to get to the other spots and then come back to the truck, but at least we get one out of the way right off the bat.” Ryan stepped a little closer to the site – this time a panoramic view of the barren forest below. “Even though it’s not super high up compared to the other peaks, it’s close enough to the trees that you can still make out a lot of detail on them.” Ryan explained, opening his bag and readying his camera. Michael watched him, poised to jump forward in case Ryan slipped or tripped or something.

Luckily, no such incident happened, and they were on their way to an even higher point along the mountain some minutes later. It was cold out today, hovering just above freezing. It would probably dip later in the afternoon around the time it was expected to snow. Michael huddled further down in his clothes, but the fact that they were constantly hiking up an incline made his blood pump faster, his body warming under his layers. His wind-bitten cheeks and cold feet provided some relief, some balance, from how hot he was getting under his jacket.

They didn’t talk for a while, nothing but the sound of muffled snow being crunched under their boots to be heard. But, like most of the silences they had shared since meeting, it wasn’t an uncomfortable one, Michael’s growing uncertainty with his feelings towards Ryan notwithstanding.

They stopped at another flat spot near the top of another peak sometime later, Ryan taking more pictures deep into the valley below. “It must’ve sucked hiking up here before cars were invented,” Michael said nonchalantly, kicking at the powdery snow.

“Mm.”

“Having to trap and skin animals yourself so you could make your own fur coat and leather boots… Dying of fuckin’, typhus. Having eight kids, having all of them dying of typhus.”

“Hey,”

“What, did they not have typhus back then?”

Ryan frowned. “What? No I was just – uh. This might sound weird, but… Can I take your picture?”

Michael’s brow creased. “Why would an actual photographer asking to take my picture be considered weird?”

“I mean, well –”

Michael slowly pivoted to stare at Ryan instead of the view beyond the peak, arms crossed over his chest. “Are you gonna put it up in your closet shrine? Next to my kidneys?”

“I mean…” Ryan scratched his beard. “You know, I feel like we talk about this sort of thing way more often than what's considered normal. Or healthy.”

Michael waved it off. “Nah, you should hear me and my buddy, Gavin. It’s all dicks and butts whenever we get together.

“Dicks... Murder,” Ryan mimicked a scale with his hands, raising them up and down intermittently. “So, picture or no picture?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah, I’m cool with a picture. Honestly I haven’t really taken any the whole time I’ve been out here. No selfies.”

“How does your family even know you’re alive?”

Michael barked out a laugh, and shuffled in front of Ryan. His back was still to the escarpment, the white with specks of black and green forming an impressive background. He didn’t really know what to do with his hands, staring at Ryan, and Ryan’s camera. Actually, he didn’t know what to do with his body at all. “Uh…” He looked around and found a sizeable rock a foot away. He slid closer to it and put one foot on it, his arms resting proudly on his hips. “I’ve conquered the mountain! Nature’s got nothing on me, bitch!”

Ryan giggled and took a few snapshots. Michael slumped with relief and relaxed his body, when Ryan stopped, turning back to look at the view instead. That was possibly the most awkward he had felt with Ryan, including the first day they had wandered around the woods together. Whenever he had been in front of a professional photographer, it was for a group shot, never a solo thing. Aside from his yearbook pictures, but that was so routine and fast and it had been about a decade since he ever had one of those. This felt different. He sighed, peering over the edge, breathing in deep lungfuls of freezing air.

He heard Ryan step up towards him. “Michael,” he said quietly.

Michael turned around, only to be met with the rapid sound of clicks as the shutter went off multiple times a second. He went from benign to shock to playfully pissed off. He thought briefly about shoving Ryan away for tricking him, but they definitely had a ‘no more snowball fight’ rule – and that probably went double when they were on a steep mountain ridge. Instead he just grinned and went, “You’re such a dick.” He wasn’t surprised when Ryan laughed, or when another round of shutter clicks went off. “Seriously though, no more. I’m not, um. I don’t know. It’s just. Weird. I’m not photogenic.”

“Are you sure?” Ryan asked, staring at the screen, probably flicking through the pictures he had taken. His lips were pursed.

Michael shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, slouching a bit. “Pretty sure.”

“Hm. Suit yourself.” Michael slowly meandered back to where Ryan stood. Luckily the man didn’t show him any pictures. “Anything else we need to take pictures of?”

“Yeah, uh,” Ryan squinted through his viewfinder, swaying this way and that before putting his camera back in his bag. He pointed further along the ridge. “That way.”

“Over the hill?”

“Over the hill.”

Michael groaned, begrudgingly following the other through the snow.

They managed to get back to the car a few hours later, just before the sun set.

“Aw shit,” Ryan whined, not a minute into their drive. “It's snowing again.”

“Pussy,” Michael countered, watching a few flakes appear on the windshield. They drove in silence for a few more minutes, Ryan being more cautious on their drive home than he had been that morning. The snowfall picked up minutely, and when a few flakes hit the passenger side window, Michael looked over and squinted at them. “Pull over,” he said.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I just – ” Michael blanched at how stupid his suggestion sounded, now that he gave it a second thought. “Uh, never mind. It’s nothing.” Just as he said that, Ryan pulled over to the side of the road – for whatever good it would do, considering the road was just barely big enough for one car in the first place, and even that width was being challenged by the snow that had piled up on both sides throughout the season. “I said you didn’t have to.”

“Fine.” Ryan said, putting the car in park and crossing his arms. “But I won’t move until you tell me what you wanted to say.”

“That’s such a dick move.” Ryan raised his eyebrows. “…I just wanted to look at the snowflakes.

“…Really?”

Michael shrugged. “Usually they’re just white specks. It finally got cold enough that you can see all the different patterns they take. Doesn’t happen often, so.”

“Is this what people from up here do for fun?” Ryan got out of the truck anyway, though. Michael followed him, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The temperature seemed to have dropped significantly in the ten minutes they were travelling – the sun was fading from the sky, too, which probably explained the reason for the drop.

“As if you haven’t like, tipped a cow or something.”

“I haven’t, though. Cows are gentle creatures that should be treated with respect. Oh!” Michael turned and saw Ryan examining a cluster of snowflakes that had dropped onto the back of his hand. “Wow… they really are all different.” They melted on his skin, and Ryan looked up, squinting at the sky.

“Kinda weird that you can’t really tell where the clouds end and the snow actually comes down,” Michael said, wandering towards the edge of the road and looking at the snow banks and bare trees that lined it. “There’s no starting point or anything. Just like in Minecraft.”

Ryan snorted. “You were almost getting onto something profound there before you just scaled it back.”

Michael crouched to the ground, a smile on his face as he touched the snow. “But I got you to pull over to look at snowflakes; that has to count for something.”

“Being the heroine in a romcom?”

Michael mimed flicking long hair over his shoulder and shaking his head; Ryan chuckled, then stopped abruptly. “Hey! What are you doing over there?”

“Observant as always,” Michael said dryly, starting to roll up a little snowball – until Ryan rushed over, grabbed him around the waist and hauled him to his feet. “Wha – Hey! I was doing something down there!”

“No snow in the car.” Ryan said firmly, still holding Michael tightly by the waist, even when the younger man squirmed. “Or on me, for that matter.”

Michael managed to turn in the other’s grip. He faced Ryan, still holding the half formed snowball. “You’re no fun.”

“Drop it.”

Michael raised the snowball up, edging it towards Ryan’s face. “What if I say no?”

“Then I’m not letting go of you,” he countered, doing an impressive job of acting unfazed as Michael let the snow hover a hair’s width away from Ryan’s cheek. Enough that he could feel the cold. His stoic expression didn’t change even when Michael flashed him a smug grin.

“Michael,”

“No.”

“Michael,”

“Ryan,” Their breaths mingled together in large, white clouds as they stared and waited for the other to break first. Just as Michael was trying to predict what Ryan would do if he just smashed the – slowly melting – snowball into his face, he felt a snowflake land on his nose. The unexpected pinprick of cold made his face twitch, and Ryan finally broke, arms slowly loosening around Michael’s middle as he laughed at the younger man.

Michael tossed the snowball off to the side of the road and tipped his head back, making a show of catching snowflakes on his tongue instead. It was probably for the best; Ryan had no mercy when it came to getting even, he could already attest to that. The snowflakes that hit his tongue quickly melted into a frigid pool of water. More joined his cheeks and clouded his eyelashes. Even though he had left New Jersey five years ago, it had probably been much longer since he had bothered to do this.

Ryan had stopped laughing. Michael looked over and saw that, yes, there was a thirty-something year old man who had just finished getting pictures for an art gallery collection who was letting snowflakes fall onto his tongue for the first time, ever. Michael suddenly understood those people who were desperate for a taste of quality nostalgia; who just wanted a genuine return to childhood memories. It was nice, being out here, and being far away from people who knew him – aside from Geoff, who he wasn’t around all the time anyway. It was easier to let go, to feel free and be impulsive and childish and revel in it all.

He knew Ryan wasn’t the only reason why he managed to have fun on his vacation, why he was enjoying in a proper white Christmas in a way that he hadn’t really done since he was younger, but if he had to pick one person to thank, he knew who it’d be.

His tongue was getting too cold and try to feel anything, so he reluctantly shut his mouth, watching his breath condense into white mist. The snow was falling a little bit heavier, now. It stuck to his jacket, his hair. He frantically blinked away the ones stuck on his eyelashes as Ryan shook out his hair. “We should probably head back,” Ryan said, a little reluctant. “Before the weather gets worse.”

“Yeah.”

It was quiet and cold in the car, despite the heat blasting loudly. Ryan coughed, swallowed. “Is it weird to say that hanging out with you this past week has been nostalgic for me, even though I’ve never had a snowy Christmas until now?”

“Nah,” Michael said easily, rubbing his hands together. “I was actually thinking the same thing.”

More silence, heavier than before.

“Hey, Michael,”

“What’s up?”

“Don’t get all smug about this but – when we get back, can you make me some hot chocolate?”

Michael smiled. “Why, Ryan, I would be delighted.”

Michael had never been happier to stumble into the lodge and out of his frozen, snow-encrusted boots. “Thank Christ,” he muttered, shedding the rest of his layers, peeling off his soaked socks and rolling up his pant legs. "Geoff, we're back! Did you miss us?"

Ryan hung up his coat and put his wet scarf over it on the hook. “Don’t you wanna change first?”

“Nope. Hot chocolate first. Geoff!”

Predictably, Geoff was in the kitchen, and he poked his head out into the lodge, looking at him. “What?”

“I gotta make this guy cocoa, please tell me you have something.”

“Yeah, I got the best shit, as a matter of fact.” Michael shuffled towards Geoff, letting Ryan sort himself out, one way or another. Geoff took out a glass bottle filled with chocolate powder from the cabinet and handed it to him. Soon enough, Michael was heating some milk over a saucepan, digging for a measuring spoon in one of the drawers. He gave Geoff an unimpressed look when he slid a bottle of Bailey’s across the counter towards him.

“Ryan can’t drink that.”

“He wouldn’t even know it was in there.”

“Are you trying to poison me?” Ryan ducked his head into the kitchen, a frown affixed to his face. Michael pushed the Bailey’s back towards Geoff, and instead started rummaging around for some cinnamon, adding that into the steaming milk before dumping a generous amount of cocoa powder into the brew. Geoff had since gone to bother Ryan directly – asking him about his drinking habits, Ryan’s casual answers stumping the other man. There was more than enough for two cups, so Michael poured a third and handed it off to Geoff, who made a gleeful noise of thanks. Ryan was much less enthused.

“I still don’t understand what the big deal is…”

“Just shut up and drink your cocoa,” Geoff snapped, wandering back into the kitchen and leaving Michael and Ryan to their own devices.

They sat down, both on the raised stone surrounding the roaring fire, hoping to get some additional warmth back into their bodies. After a few minutes, Ryan took a hesitant sip of the hot chocolate. His brow furrowed. He took another, larger sip. Michael was trying not to stare.

“Well?” he ventured, when Ryan didn’t say anything immediately.

Ryan nodded, once. “You survived the elimination round, you can stay another week.”

“Oh my God.”

“I mean it’s good.”

Michael fought back a smile. "I got what you meant.”

“It’s like Christmas in a cup,” Ryan carried on, which sounded like Ryan was trying to be funny, but the way he was staring at the half empty mug made it seem like he was at least partially serious.

“Well, I'm glad you like it." Michael settled on, eventually. Ryan was staring at him from over the rim of his mug, some strange expression affixed to his face. He finished his drink quickly enough, and seemed to savor every sip.

He stood up. "I need to go look at the pictures," he said by way of explanation.

"You mean you aren't going to sing my culinary praises for the next four hours? I'm disappointed in you, Rye-bread."

"Rye-bread?"

Michael felt his cheeks color. "I'm hungry, leave me alone," he defended. Ryan smiled again and patted his hair. "Don't change the subject - I slave over a hot stove all evening and this is the thanks I get?"

"Are you two making fun of me out there?" Geoff called from the kitchen.

"No, Geoff!" They both said in unison. Ryan turned back to look at Michael, a little apologetic.

"Sorry, I need to make sure I got everything right. I only have so many more days up here. Maybe next time?"

Ryan was right, their time together was running out - which shouldn't have made him as disappointed as it did. The concept of a ‘next time’ was dubious, but Michael didn’t comment on that. If anything, it would have been nice for there to be a next time for – for something. "Sure," he agreed breezily. "Next time."

Whatever that something may be.

#ragehappy #myan #my fic #suddener than we fancy it

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tvdreamsnetv · 7 years

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Ugly - Final (?) Video for Project

youtube

With the deadline looming, I decided to ‘polish’ up the previous untitled video, which in my head was called ‘dream’ as that was at the very least its file name.

I decided, in the end, to call it simply ‘ugly’ and try and make it just that.

dream.mp4 was already considered for the ‘final’ video for this project, with a number of other videos made being seen more as doodles or experiments trying to explore the concepts brought up in tutorials. The one theme which really fascinated me outside the usual nostalgia was that of information overload.

My videos have always, unintentionally, been a result and response to information overload. The initial version, dream.mp4, was expanding on visual concepts toyed with in the two-screen prototype video, and in the engram video. I knew when I started the project that I wanted to create something overwhelming, almost like the eponymous virus in Snow Crash (1992, Neal Stephenson)

The earlier prototype of this video, which I showed to a couple of people, featured large blank spaces, inserted as breathers in the otherwise unrelenting video.

youtube

Expanding on the aforementioned, then, the video is a montage of small, intensely looped segments, broken up my various ‘stretching’ and ‘datastream’ points. Datastream points are those brief splices of a selection of 0.03 second long clips, enough to have a little sound and glimpse but nothing else.

The prototype was roughly thrown together, I wasn’t sure if I was to expand on it further, or if it were okay as it was.

I showed it Sonya, and she stated that the ‘breather’ blanks took away from the pacing. I explained that this was kinda the point, but the awkwardness of the blanks in the composition started to become clearer the more times I watched it, they did kill the tempo. In the final version, I removed most of them.

One of the more interesting reactions, and one which suggested that I was on the right track, was the reaction of my dad. I showed him the video on my phone, whilst walking with him around Bakewell, and he watched it all but then said that he felt ‘nauseous’ from it. This was pretty surprising as I really didn’t expect it to have that visceral a reaction in someone.

I did bits of research, to concepts that I will probably type up here sometime soon. But what I feel may be the most pivotal bit of research and artistic influence happened pretty much over the last few days, largely by chance.

When I don’t have anything better to really do, I like to browse sites like Wikipedia and just read things. It’s kinda pointless, but sometimes it helps, like with cementing this project in my mind as the project, the thing I submit.

In my random browsing, I started reading about the Japanese musician Merzbow. Merzbow has been an artist I’ve been familiar with for years, but I had never really bothered to look into his background, rather just go “ow lol really loud music”.

Merzbow makes Harsh Noise. A musical genre which is exactly what that sounds like: intensely loud, distorted, almost painful to listen to ‘music’, which could be considered almost sound-art.

When I started making videos in 2010, I had a weird fixation (probably thanks to Chriddof) of making my videos have as loud, distorted audio as possible (in places). Sometimes, when there wasn’t any audio I could make particularly loud, I would splice in some Merzbow or other found examples of noise, like the Backwards Music Station or the Laserdisc Turtle (which maybe is just overdubbed with some actual Harsh Noise).

That amazingly, was my entire interest in the concept. I didn’t bother reading up on Merzbow, and finding the weirdly synchronous meaning behind his name or exploring the concepts of making something harsh. I just wanted to make people go ‘MY EARS’ and leave it at that.

But hey! I was only 16.

Now, in the future. It is like, Christmas Eve or Christmas Day and here I am reading about Merzbow on Wikipedia. It explains that his name, Merzbow, is derived from Merzbau, a dada art project where Kurt Schwitters modified his house. Merzbau was just one ‘Merz’ project made by Kurt, the term ‘Merz’ referring to his collages made out of junk materials. “Merz is a nonsense word invented by the German dada artist Kurt Schwitters to describe his collage and assemblage works based on scavenged scrap materials“ is what the Tate describes it as (2017).

Unbelievably, the perfect concept for my work had been sitting under my nose the entire time. What is even more ironic is that back in 2010, I insisted my videos were art and specifically cited Dada as a reason. But back then, my knowledge of such things was really only skin-deep. If I had actually bothered doing even 5 minutes of research seven years ago, maybe my videos would have had a conceptual ‘voice’ a lot sooner? Maybe.

Anyway, this sudden knowledge made it clear to me. I took the Merz, the Merzbau and the Merzbow and the concept prototype my dad described as ‘nauseating’ and knew now that I needed to take that and finish it and present that as my final video for this stage of the project.

I listened to some Merzbow (please be careful if you do with the volume it is very loud and extremely abrasive) and tried to distort and adjust the audio of dream.mp4 to make it sound painful, or ugly. I exported the entire thing as a low quality, 90s-internet ready .mov and then placed that video over the higher-quality audio and exported all that as a .mp4.

I wanted to make something very un-aesthetic and very raw. Not clean like the other videos or comfortable to watch. That was already there, in the prototype version with the stretching, but this version really pushed the discomfort to a higher level. Crucially, I wanted it to be loud but not over the limits of the meters in Vegas. This is different than my ‘loud bits’ in my 2010-2012 era videos, which were as brickwalled and over the limit as I could push them.

Please, when viewing this, wear headphones with good bass, start it very quietly then raise the volume until you are comfortable.

#video art #notes #montage #project #final #loud warning

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jasminenoack · 7 years

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“Whatever women do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult.” ― Charlotte Whitton

Being told that, categorically, he knows what he’s talking about and she doesn’t, however minor a part of any given conversation, perpetuates the ugliness of this world and holds back its light.I’ve been reading the book Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit. I read the title essay and I thought I would explore how this effects my life.

It trains us in self-doubt and self-limitation just as it exercises men’s unsupported overconfidence. -Rebecca Solnit

Sometimes when I say something to someone they say something like “okay”, “good idea”, or “are you sure?” Then they continue on with whatever they were doing without acting on whatever I said. One of my friends explains this as “Sometimes when people say ‘you’re right’ they mean ‘there there’”. This is patronizing at best and stupid at worst. It’s not unlike patting a small child on the head to get them to go away. The problem with patting an adult on the head and sending them away is that when the house of sticks collapses around you they remember that they told you that was going to happen. And if I’m not careful I get bitter about this. And end up asking people things like “how many times do I have to be right before I stop being dismissed”. I’ve been told “all of them”. So we end up with annoyance on both sides, bitterness, or I shut up and watch it all crumble. For any of these it turns out the product is worse than if we start with the assumption that we both have thoughts with different context and understand that context. This is not to say that I’m always right, but I’m certainly not always wrong.

Credibility is a basic survival tool. When I was very young and just beginning to get what feminism was about and why it was necessary, I had a boyfriend whose uncle was a nuclear physicist. One Christmas, he was telling–as though it were a light and amusing subject–how a neighbor’s wife in his suburban bomb-making community had come running out of her house naked in the middle of the night screaming that her husband was trying to kill her. How, I asked, did you know that he wasn’t trying to kill her? He explained, patiently, that they were respectable middle-class people. Therefore, her-husband-trying-to-kill-her was simply not a credible explanation for her fleeing the house yelling that her husband was trying to kill her. That she was crazy, on the other hand…. -Rebecca Solnit

I was talking to someone about their work, or I tried to and was told “I don’t like to talk about this because it’s a thing people know about”. Which I suppose is a clear indicator that I am apparently not one of those people who know things. Now it was only tangentially related to my field which is why I thought it was interesting and had asked about it. I wasn’t asking for a detailed explanation, I just wanted an overview. He had mentioned some related subjects and I had some knowledge about them, but hadn’t pushed anything as he clearly knew more. So I don’t believe I was super out of my depth. And this was someone when I gave my traditional answer that I am a senior software engineer at an advertising company had asked me for details. So there was an assumption clearly that I didn’t have anything to say that they didn’t understand. When I got an answer, which he did eventually give after the insult. It wasn’t particularly complicated at least in overview, and there was nothing that left me completely lost. Now I don’t know if he was attempting to defend himself from me giving him advice about his work. I wouldn’t have but some people are idiots. Or maybe against the fact most people aren’t interested. But maybe that’s just me being a girl and trying to make an excuse for him. But again if we open a conversation, even one where we answer a question with the equivalent of “You’re not smart enough to understand...” we completely shut out the possibility of further conversation. So All that person has is things that they know. It turns out only one person’s ideas isn’t as good as multiple people’s ideas unfortunately. That is why we want to stand on the shoulders of giants.

Another of my favorites is when I am doing something and someone offers to explain to me how something works. Examples, of this are problematic because they tend to be reasonably technical and specific to projects, and I don’t want this to require a computer science background to read. So let’s go with something relatively general. I was a Django developer for a long time. At one point I was building an architecture for a rest infrastructure(calling urls to get data) based on Django-rest(A library for this) and someone offered to explain how databases worked to me because he disagreed with the architecture. Now this is weird on many levels. The most obvious being I wasn’t architecting databases that was his job. I did in the end make a database but that was because he never actually made any. I think of this as “I don’t understand what you are doing so I’d like to explain an unrelated concept to you to feel smarter”. The other large problem with this is the assumption that because you are confused I need you to explain something to me. It’s a power play at base, I think, you need me to look stupid to feel better about yourself. And let’s be real. I’m a full stack developer I understand databases. I can’t think of a time this has happened and the thing being suggested was not a thing I already knew. There are times where people tell me about things, and I love learning things. But those moments never start with someone saying “What you are doing is completely wrong, please let me explain this simple unrelated concept to you”.

His scorn was so withering, his confidence so aggressive, that arguing with him seemed a scary exercise in futility and an invitation to more insult. - Rebecca Solnit

So the other one that really interesting to me is the “you’re/she’s young”. 1. Irreverent. 2. I’m not. 3. A lot of times I’m older than the person who said it. 4. It’s likely that I’m right. This is a manner of dismissal. A really weird one. Basically like the Matilda, “I'm big and you're small, I'm right and you're wrong, and there's nothing you can do about it!” It’s never really mattered for me in tech. Tech is about merit. A good idea is a good idea unless you are attempting to dismiss someone outright. Because if you had a better idea we wouldn’t be talking about age at all we’d be discussing the ideas. This always seems to be an attempt to dismiss something outright without an alternative. Which always seems strange to me.

Most women fight wars on two fronts, one for whatever the putative topic is and one simply for the right to speak, to have ideas, to be acknowledged to be in possession of facts and truths, to have value, to be a human being. - Rebecca Solnit

One other weird pejorative has happened in my life. I’m 31, about 8 months ago when I was 30 I broke up with my boyfriend and he moved out. My boss at the time at one point asked me if “you need any help, since you don’t have a man to watch you”. Which is pretty much the weirdest comment I’ve ever heard. Especially given the fact that I managed to stay alive for 30 years so far, most of it without a babysitter. This was one of those things that was so pejorative that it was just baffling.

Young women, she said, needed to know that being belittled wasn’t the result of their own secret failings; it was the boring old gender wars, and it happened to most of us who were female at some point or other. - Rebecca Solnit

So I have a friend who’s a bit older than me who whenever any of this happens asks me “is it because you’re a grill”(sic). I never have an answer to this. There are never enough girls in the room to tell if it’s that or something else. In most cases in engineering there is one. I do actively think that there is something about being female or being feminine(traditional stereotypes). I have a couple male friends who are very quiet and differential and they tend to be treated the same way women are. A main difference being that women are treated that way whether or not the have the traits. Only the men who have the traits are grouped with us. But even if there is a problem of dismissing people based on gender. There is a problem of dismissing people at all. Because as I said a good idea is a good idea regardless of anything else. There is also the problem of this argument that women should act differently then they won’t be dismissed. Lean in, be more aggressive, push your ideas. I disagree I shouldn’t have to be a jerk for you to accept my thoughts are worth listening to. I shouldn’t have to prove that I’m an exception to some rule and deserve to be listened to. You should listen because varied thought makes better outcomes, and because like you I’m human.

He thought that being patronized was an experience a woman chooses to have, or could choose not to have -- and so the fault was mine. -Rebecca Solnit

And a note to those of you how do these things. The more you do them the more I discount you. Just something to consider.

More mansplaining

#MenExplainThingsToMe #Feminism #ManSplaining

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