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charmspoint · 3 years

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I know you said they don't have a concrete story yet, but would you be ok with telling us more about Zan and Ghost? They seem really interesting

Anon you don't know what you unleashed its like past 1am here but I could talk about them forever.

This is gonna be under the cut because nobody has to be subjected to this.

General quick point: Both of these started off as bnha oc's but then reached that point where I was like 'yeah, I want them in their own story' so rn their powers are just powers with no wider context since I aint got that story

I'm gonna start with Zan cuz he's older by creation and my fav oc atm. For him we have TW's of child abuse and neglect, familial death, trauma, drug abuse, depression and anxiety, though I'll be running through this points as quickly and non graphically as I can cuz...I'm not gonna make you read my thesis so it should be fine.

His full legal name is Kazuya Moriyama but he goes by Zan Mori, he's 24. Zan was created to be two things 1. Character design with a fully body tattoo 2. Someone to use a power I came up with but didn't match with a character yet.

Here's that power, yes I have a copy paste off it:

Nightmare fuel is a power that terrorizes everyone, including its user. Zan’s sweat contains a special kind of chemical that when smelled causes mild to severe hallucinations, paranoia and other fear responses by interacting with victims brain chemistry. However, this chemical is only contained in sweat that he produces as a result of fear so, for example if he goes running in the gym, nothing bad will happen. The strength of the power depends on how much Zan himself is afraid and how much sweat he is producing. A weak dose will only result in sense of unease, a feeling of being watched, escalating through general paranoia, with its worst manifestation being complete loss of touch with reality and intense hallucinations. It's odorless and since it’s a chemical can be stored for later use. The last stages of it are very hard to reach because they require for Zan to be at similar levels of severe distress. It affects him as well, often resulting in endless loop of him being afraid, activating his power because of his fear, the power causing more intense fear and so on.

So here is where we start to build.

Zan's backstory hinges on him developing this power very early on in his life, as a result of mutation that his parents were not ready for. Kids get scared of things, a lot, especially when their own power feeds back into that fear. His family quickly spiraled from it, going from trying to figure out how to help him to neglecting him to dying very bloodily in front of him as a result of the constant psychological distress. After that he was cycled through different foster and youth homes with pretty similar result before striking it on his own basically as soon as he could.

Zan's main motivation is to find a way to get rid of his power. He hates it, hates what it represents and how it essentially stripped away his ability to connect with anyone. He doesn't control it, he doesn't activate it, it simply happens to him whenever he gets distressed and as someone with deep seated anxiety caused by that very same power, he gets distressed a lot.

He self-medicates. He self medicates a lot. I don't really have the world planned out but it's very much a world where powers are a new thing and the society just doesn't have systems in place to catch people like Zan. So he basically keeps himself high as much as he can, to numb himself out so he doesn't feel anything so he doesn't get scared so his power doesn't get activated.

When I created Zan, I expected him to be a very jaded, angry, abrasive character and in some ways he is. He's very slow to trust and tends to keep away from people. His first instinct is to mock and insult, he dresses like an emo reject, he's absolutely covered in tattoos, he's a dark humored pessimist and just not the kind of person you want to be around for long. He's also probably one of the most empathic characters I have on the roster atm. He's like, a natural big brother. Any kids younger then him, fuck older than him but awkward and unsure, he's instantly adopting. Fuck everything else, his kids now, he'll make them lunch and make sure they get to school. Zan is more so abrasive out of need than out of actual malice or bad attitude. He does want to be close to people he just knows how that always ends so keeping away is a lot safer. He is genuinely very loving and soft when he lets himself be. He's not great about advice but he's a good listener and the type to throw everything on the backburner to come and help a friend out. He is inherently kind, he just doesn't allow himself to be so very often, unless someone damn well takes a chisel and digs it out of him.

Fun fact time:

He's got a knack for painting and idolizes Van Gogh

He's got a cat named Shikei who he picked up after it got run over by a car, it likes only him and wants to see the rest of humanity burn

Here are his established tattoos, yes I have a copy paste for that too:

Full body tattoo in shape of a jungle of thorns crawling over his entire body, save most of his face. The whole piece is done in eerie, cold colors, with a sudden splash of warmer color here and there, the thorns themselves being colored in misty and muted blues and greens. Over his heart, there is a tattoo of a birds nest, but the nest is breaking apart, suffocated by the thorns clustering around it and breaking into it, its branches drenched in blood, the baby birds in it barely even noticeable. Along the length of his spine and over the width of his hips an ornate cross of st. peter is painted, also crumbling, red spider lilies breaking through the frail rock. His shoulder blades are covered in sunflowers, strikingly bright on the cold surface of the thorns and painted in Van Gogh style. There is a chain of daisies lines across his neck and down to his chest, covering an old scar and a tiny ring of roses over his ring finger. On the nape of his neck, two butterflies are pinned by the thorns, appearing to still be alive and in agony as their bodies are pierced. A silver snake slithers through the thorns on his right arm, though its shade helps it blend in with the color of thorns, it’s body a tiny bit coiled, considering should it strike or not. On the back of his left hand there is a tiny leaf bug, trying to hide amidst the bare thorns and on the outer shell of his ear, mostly hidden from view by his head, is a ladybug, wings spread like it is about to fly away. A swarm of blue butterflies paint the silhouette of his lungs across his skin and two koi fishes circle each other endlessly on his hip. In thorns climbing up and down his neck, there are tiny fireflies, just barely bright enough to be seen. Two thin thorn branches separate themselves from the cluster on his neck and climb across his temples, their thorns appearing to be piercing through his skin and letting blood flow.

The tattoo is still in progress.

This was the brief summary.

Ghost! Ghost is a lot newer than Zan, I only made them at the start of this year so they are a lot less detailed but they hit the ground running. Their tw are mostly prostitution and existentialist feelings but I'm not getting into anything in detail.

Their full name is Ghostown Verb and yes they did name themselves that. They are 27 and their power is Forget me not, as I said previously, as soon as they are out of someone's line of sight, to that person it's like they never existed. The memories of meeting them return as soon as they are back in the field of vision but uhh you can see how it would be super easy to lose a child like that.

Ghost grew up on the street in a kind of do whatever you can when you can how you can attitude. Turns out it's really hard to get help from anyone when they can't remember you as soon as they stop looking at you, which includes but is not limited to social workers, well meaning passerby, police, foster homes and landlords. The name and face for the paperwork doesn't exist and people just find themselves grasping at nothing, feeling like they are forgetting something but not knowing what it is. It works in some ways, shoplifting is a lot easier when you're sure that you can just turn a corner and be safe, but it's mostly just a hassle. Ghost is homeless most of the time and when they were old enough for it their career of choice became prostitution simply because it's pretty much the only job where the customer doesn't need to remember you after they're no longer looking at you and it's not like Ghost has to answer to any boss who would have to either.

They had not had a kind life but they are the let and let live type. They don't stress a lot about things and generally take everything in a fly. They are very extroverted, very loud, very friendly. They form friendships fast because they know they'll lose them fast and same goes with love affairs. They live in the moment because for everyone else the moment is the only place where they exist. Loud fashion, loud words, loud actions, provocative and noticeable, they just want to be seen by people, remembered by people, they want the attention on them even though they know it's useless. Much like Zan they also have no control of their power so all they can do is live with it. At least it doesn't bring anyone any direct harm, they are grateful for that much.

But it does leave them displaced, unanchored. They don't have any support system, no family, no long term friends. The system can't even remember them for long enough to decide it isn't equipped to deal with them. They flitter through peoples lives, there one moment and gone the next. The biggest impact they can hope to have is the nagging feeling of having forgotten something.

It's not like they are exactly sad about it, their main mentality is just not to worry about things they can't change. These are the cards they've been dealt with and play those cards they shall. At the very least they are having fun with their life, doing whatever they want with no one remembering them long enough to stop them.

But it's a lonely existence with no viable human connection. That much does get to them.

Fun facts!

They have a tattoo of a forget-me-not on their shoulder, I haven't decided do they have it before the plot whatever it is starts, or do they get it cuz Zan's influence.

They like to make their own clothes when they can, though having a stable enough place to be for a long enough time is rare.

Their biggest fear is that when they die nobody will remember to look for their body :)

That was a brief rundown of these two! If you made it to the end damn congrats I love you

#anon #oc talk #I CAN TALK A VERY LONG TIME ABOUT MY OCS THIS ISNT EVEN THE DEEP DIVE #it might look like i like ghost less cuz i got way less for them but bls remember that zan is like....fuck like 3-4 years old #probs 3 as he is #4 if we count the thrown away beta design #ghost was born in February this year he's not even a full year old what a baby #ahhhh but anyway thank you for asking im always super excited to talk about my ocs #thank you for letting me geek out!!!!#i am NOT going to spell check all of that rn its almost 3am if i wrote something badly you'll have to live with it #zan mori #ghostown verb #they should have their own tags they deserve it #zan #ghost

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megatontiddies · 3 years

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Alwine OC stuff 2

In order to flush out some ocs I'm gonna borrow this info sheet made by @willowiswriting!

The first one I post is gonna be Alwine but then later today, hopefully, I'm gonna introduce my second OC who will be a vital character in The Waters of March.

So anyways this is pretty long so under the cut it goes!

THE BASICS:

Name: Alwine Elenora Fries

Nick Names: Winnie (most common), Al, Allie

Age: 24 (234)

Gender identity: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Role in story: Sole Survivor

Hair color/texture: Dirty Brown, Long to Medium Shag Cut with Gentle Curls

Skin color/texture: #ccaf85, softer texture the woman was good on moisturizer and sunscreen prewar

Eye color: Green Hazel

Scars: Deeper scar that trails from left side of chin to upper right side of lip, long claw tracks from deathclaw encounter trailing from lower right torso to center/left of chest

Other notable features: Old Lines style tattoo in center of her back, Mole on right cheek

“Default” outfit: Pair of military green cargo pants and white tank top usually paired with combat boots and her old military holotags from prewar. In colder months she wears a leather bomber jacket.

EXTERNAL/OUTWARD PRESENCE:

How do they move and carry themselves? Pace, rhythm, gestures, energy?

Fairly proud. Alwines time in the military, despite being primarily a mechanic and not seeing much front line action, has trained her to walk with purpose and pride. Shoulder pinned back, high chin, legs shoulder length apart and ready to move at a moments notice. Although, she often moves her hands while she speaks and being quite quick on her feet make her appear energized and animated.

How much physical space do they use, active and at rest?

Alwine is fairly small in height, a modest 5"3, when she's resting she requires little to no space. She sleeps comfortably almost anywhere. In combat she similarly doesn't require too much room to maneuver although it's probably safest to give her space. She may be short but she's built like a rugby player. Double recommended for when she's in power armor.

How do they position themselves in a group? Do they like to be the center of attention, or do they hang back at the edges of a crowd?

Wallflower all the way. But she isn't afraid to take charge when necessary.

How does their size or build influence how they use their body, if it does?

As stated above Alwine will not hesitate to tackle you like its a game of rugby. She may be short but she is fast and built like a brick. Her small height, on the other hand, makes it easy for her to flank her enemies. It also helps for the element of surprise. More than once has she simply plowed into an overconfident raider. She has learnt to throw her weight around.

What are they like in motion -– in different environments, and in different activities? What causes the differences between these?

For most combat situations think bull in a china shop. In stealth missions, however, she is surprisingly nimble. She has a preference for long range combat but if pressed is equally confident in close combat. That 'in-between' area for long and short distance can be a weakness for her. Because of this once long-range is no longer suitable she will work quickly to close distance between herself and her foe(s). If she's in a domestic or civilian setting she is surprisingly quiet and quick. Likely due to her height she can easily slip out of a crowd if necessary. Unfortunately, Alwine is quite bumbly and clumsy. On several occasion she has bumped into someone, or something, she shouldn't have or tripped in combat.

How do they physically engage with other people, inanimate objects, and their environment? What causes the differences between these?

For human contact Alwine keeps her distance for the most part. She avoids touching/ physical contact unless she is completely comfortable with said person.

For inanimate/ environmental contact she will constantly explore through touch although not as much for wildlife.

Alwine is naturally touch sensitive and finds it easier to explore the natural world around her by touching. That being said because of this sensitivity she becomes uncomfortable making contact with other people as she finds it can be too intimate. Mostly she worries about making others uncomfortable through her own touch.

Where and when do they seem most and least at ease? Why? How can you tell?

Alwine is most at ease when she feels completely alone or in some cases alone with close friends.

She's least at ease when she senses that either herself of those she cares about are in danger. Alwine is also very uncomfortable in large groups of people as she finds it overwhelming. She is also very uncomfortable in water as she cannot swim.

It's fairly easy to tell when Alwine get's uncomfortable. She basically becomes almost completely mute save for a few choice words/ sounds. She will also position herself either beside/ behind whoever she is traveling with standing much more closely than she normally would if she were completely comfortable.

How are they vocally expressive? What kind of voice, accent, tones, inflections, volume, phrases and slang, and manner of speaking do they use?

Tonally, Alwines voice is a bit lower but still distinctly feminine think Jennifer Hale but with a very slight southern drawl. Her voice doesn't fluctuate much in pitch and can come off an monotone or flat which can be difficult to hear if one is not trained to it. To her benefit it comes in handy when dealing in precarious social situations. When necessary she can, and will, raise her voice but very rarely.

How are they bodily expressive? How do they use nonverbal cues such as their posture, stance, eyes, eyebrows, mouths, and hands?

Her posture is fairly stiff, again, military-esque. Alwines big on eye contact no matter the scenario. She's a big believer that the eyes are the windows to a persons, or creatures, soul. Her eyebrows are only really indicative of whether she is thinking or stressed in the form of a furrow. Her mouth is probably the most expressive of her facial features from smirks to snarls. Like stated above, she's very animated. If her hands stop moving while she's talking that's a very good indicator she's about to start swinging them.

INTERNAL:

What is their greatest fear?

Death. Not her own though. The deaths of those she loves and cares about terrify the daylights out of her. Close second is water.

What are some misbeliefs about the world?

That good is inherent in all people.

What is the best thing about their life?

Danse.

What is the worst thing about their life?

Her own child but she don't know that yet. Beyond this, probably the world blowing up in nuclear fire and her husband getting capped. Also giant bugs.

What do they most often look down on people for?

Lack of Honor. Alwine can even respect raiders who are capable of keeping their word but anyone who uses deceit to get what they want is abhorrent.

What makes their heart feel alive?

Action of all kinds. To be in movement or roughhousing is the peak of excitement for Alwine. Also, storms by the ocean. Alwine has a soft spot for Far-Harbor because of this. She is also in love with sunrises on the deck of the Prydwen.

What makes them feel loved, and who was the last person to make them feel that way?

Small actions that let her know she is thought about. Anything between trinkets that remind the person of Alwine to small personal actions based on what she's said in the past. (ie. sneaking extra snacks that she said she likes, books that she misses, mods that she's been looking for etc.). The last person to make her feel this way was Danse.

How do they manage their energy, exhaustion, tension, or other strong emotions?

If she's more energetic then she'll try to work it off either through workouts or hard labor that she can do around settlements or the Prydwen. Exhaustion is cured by coffee or Nuka Cola if they're available. If not available then the nearest hole to crawl in to sleep is the best cure. Alwine ignores tension hoping that more work will wear it off.

What energizes and drains them most?

Alwine finds stressful situations to be most draining (such as hostage situations or anything that could result in bystander/civilian death) as well as long periods of social interaction. Once the element of extreme danger has been removed, however, Alwine finds anything with the smallest hint of danger to be invigorating.

What kind of inner life do they have — rich and imaginative? Calculating and practical? Full of doubts and fears? Does it find any sort of outlet in their lives?

Definitely rich and imaginative. Alwine is naturally curious harboring a childlike wonder about this new world. She's practical but prefers optimism. Calculating but if she doesn't like the odds she'll pretend everything's fine. This can come off as overconfident but deep down she's screeching. Her inner turmoil are difficult to read and she's good at hiding them. Most have to pry it out of her.

Do they dream? What are those dreams like?

Alwine has always had lucid dreams. Fortunately for her they are still mostly 'dreamlike' and cryptically strange. On occasion they do take the form of realistic night terrors waking her up in a fit of action. Good or bad she remembers every dream. Prewar she used to keep a dream journal.

Are they more shaped by nature or nurture — who they are, or what has happened to them? How have these shaped who they’ve become as a person?

Nature and Nurture both affect how we develop psychologically especially during our early developmental stages. Generally, once a person develops a set concept of how the world works it can be very difficult to break that short of horrific trauma. That being said, when the bombs blew up and (almost) everyone died Alwine has surprisingly kept her moral and ethical standards. If anything she's become a bit more socially unhinged. So nurture? I think? This one was a bit too confusing for my overthinking little pea-brain.

(Potentially ignoring the plot if it wouldn’t normally play into their life,) what kind of person could they become in the future? What are some developmental paths that they could take, (best, worst, most likely?) what would cause them to come to pass, and what consequences might they have? What paths would you especially like to see, and why?

that would be spoiling ;)

Does their perception of who they are align with how other people see them? Why or why not?

Alwine see's herself as mostly just an average joe. A little awkward but trying her best. She thinks she's unassuming. When first meeting her, in a relatively safe space that the commonwealth can provide, you might think the same. But, if ever seen in combat or a life and death situation this perception is starkly contrasted. She appears almost graceful. At least up until she falls flat on her face or straight into you (or an enemy). Surprisingly light hearted/ always smiling she radiates a calm and happy energy yet is also dead serious when appropriate. She hates leading and doesn't see herself as a leader yet seems to always take charge and show exemplary coordination and tactic in the heat of combat.

Top three things they value most in life?

shaun, danse, friends, laser rifle

FUN:

What’s their favorite book, movie, and band? (Modernize them if it’s a fantasy setting)

A real fun gal at parties, Alwines favourite book was an outdated encyclopedia about dinosaurs.

Her favourite movie is The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. She loves old westerns.

Similarly she enjoys old western music. Johnny Western, Lorne Green, Marty Robbins, and Patsy Cline are just some of her many favourite singers.

Favorite color?

Juniper Green

Least favorite color?

Anything neon

Favorite food/cuisine?

Soups. Any soups and all soups from anywhere. Preference for spicy brothy soups but will not complain if its anything but.

What associations do they bring to mind? Words or phrases, images, metaphors or motifs? Why?

Rainy days. Rain on pavement and deep wood moss and dirt. Second hand cigarette smoke on a warm summer night. A warm house on a cold evening with the smell of hot supper wafting from the kitchen over a woodstove fire. Knowing eyes. Cedar bark and pine. Slivers on the hands. Drunk laughs. A dog at the foot of a bed. A firm grip. A cold rock in the hand. A hot breath on your neck. The tenderness of a bruise. Lilacs in the rain. Stiff shoulders and muscles. Bare feet in dewy grass. A heavy blanket. A warm smile.

Is there an object they can’t bear to part with and why?

Her Laser Rifle. It's quiet, strong, and deadly against almost everything in the commonwealth. She also carries an assortment of small gifts and trinkets on her person from various friends.

Describe three typical outfits for them, top to bottom.

1. Casual Gear: Black or White tank top, Green military grade cargo pants, Leather combat boots, and military heavy plate armor on top.

2. BOS Gear: BOS Jumpsuit (usually the top is zipped down and tied at the waist when in a 'safe' area or on the Prydwen), White or Black tank top, Leather combat boots, BOS grade heavy plate armor on top, BOS dogtags.

3. Casual wear (only when in 'safe' areas such as sanctuary or diamond city): Plaid overshirt, white tank top, heavy blue jeans, belt, leather combat boots.

What names or nicknames have they been called throughout their life?

Al or Winnie. In practice, Winnie is more commonly used than her own name.

Describe their daily routine.

Wake up early (around 4-6 am), eat breakfast, check over armor and weapons, do daily tasks/missions, eat dinner, modify/repair armor and weapons, go to bed (around 9pm-12am)

Their go-to cure for a bad day?

A quiet night in. Either relaxing in the arms of another or sleeping off her misery. If it's particularly aggravating she'll need some kind of physical activity to work out her anger.

#Alwine #Worldbuilding #Character development #this took way too long #10$ says that even when I start writing I'll still forget how I set my charters out to act

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fuckitfireeverything · 7 years

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10 Spooky Book Recommendations from your Favorite Ex-Librarian

Now that I’m not a Librarian anymore I really miss recommending books to people, and since Halloween is my favorite time of year, I thought I’d made some recommendations of my favorite Halloween-appropriate spooky books! Below, you’ll find a list of ten of my favorites -- I’ve tried to spread them out in terms of genre and style as much as possible so that everyone can find something they like!

1. My Favorite Thing is Monsters, Emil Ferris (2017)

Spoiler alert: this is already my Book of the Year, and for good reason. Ferris’ semi-autobiographical comic is half coming of age story, half post-Holocaust mystery adventure, and her unique ink sketch illustrations are interspersed with old horror movie posters against a backdrop of 1960s Chicago.

Read if you like: Harriet the Spy, the Universal monster movies, lesbians, stores about outcast preteen girls finding confidence, stories about outcast preteen girls trying to solve mysteries, stories about outcast preteen girls having crushes on other preteen girls, hippies, the 1960s, monster theory

2. White is for Witching, Helen Oyeyemi (2009)

A supernatural story from one of my all-time favorite authors, White is for Witching is told through a litany of voices. It is about Miranda, a late-teen girl, and her twin Eliot, and their dead mother Lily, and the house-turned-bed and breakfast that their mother and her mother and, eventually, Miri herself, haunt; featuring: Miri goes to Oxford and vampirizes her cute girlfriend for a while. I sound flippant, but there’s something very haunting to the novel, a kind of late-fall-emptiness to the resonance of it that you can’t easily shake.

Read if you like: haunted houses, dead mothers, lesbians, witches, mirror selves, Oxford, magical realism, African folklore, co-dependent twins, maternally inherited curses

3. House of Leaves, Mark Z Danielewski (2000)

I think this one makes it onto most spooky book lists, but the feeling I got when I read it almost ten years ago still sticks with me, so I can’t pass it up. The book is the transcript of a documentary about a house that is bigger on the inside than on the outside (in a terrifying way, not in a Doctor Who way), which has been footnoted by a literary scholar writing about the film, which has been found by a drug-addled tattoo artist who scribbles his own story in the margins. Notorious for it’s typography, there is no right way to read House of Leaves, but you should absolutely give it a shot.

Read if you like: haunted houses, documentary horror, literary theory, footnotes, getting very dizzy while reading, post-structuralism

4. The Changeling, Victor LaValle (2017)

I think the newest release on this list, but possibly already one of my favorites -- LaValle’s latest tells the story of a new father, Apollo Kagwa, who was abandoned by his own father as a child, and his search to understand the unthinkable actions of his wife both right after she gives birth, and several months down the line after she has disappeared. It’s a little heavy-handed on the “social media is Bad” undertones, but well worth it for a particularly good joke about a bad iPhone app.

Read if you like: warrior women who live in secret hidden islands, distrusting social media, Scandinavian folklore, contemporary stories, complicated characters, unexpected twists, not trusting men, being afraid to have children

Don’t read if: you just had a baby. Seriously, don’t do it.

5. Through the Woods, Emily Carroll (2014)

A graphic novel that collects several discrete stories, Through the Woods is a quick read and delightfully macabre. If you’re unsure, read a couple of Carroll’s online comics (linked below) to get a feel for her -- especially “His Face All Red,” which is included in the collection as well as available online.

Read if you like: a sense of general unease, creepy folk tales, being afraid to look under your bed, bold colors, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, body horror, scaring the bejeesus out of children, any of Emily Carroll’s other work

6. The Girl With All the Gifts, M R Carey (2014)

Not your typical zombie story, Gifts is a zombie apocalypse story that focuses on a young girl, Melanie, who is both a zombie and not-a-zombie. While most of the zombies (called Hungries, in the novel’s parlance) are mindless eating machines with no higher cognitive functions, human scientists study the learning capabilities of an unusual group of zombie children who, aside from an irascible hunger for human brains, are perfectly normal, thank you very much. Set primarily in the English countryside, the novel follows a scientist, a solider, and a teacher, who are traveling to safety with Melanie in tow and trying to decide whether to see her as a person or as a monster.

Read if you like: who-is-the-real-monster stories, questions of scientific ethics, precocious children, survival horror, the-earth-wins-out post-apocalyptic fiction

Bonus tip: Gifts was made into an excellent movie in 2016 with one of the best soundtracks I think I’ve ever heard -- worth a watch if you like a good zombie movie. A follow-up novel, The Boy on the Bridge, was also released this year, but if you’ve read Gifts, check out my article on why you shouldn’t bother with Bridge.

7. Harrow County, Cullen Bunn (2015-present)

The third graphic novel to make it onto this list, and an ongoing serial so there’s always more coming when you’ve caught up! Harrow County takes place in a haunted town in rural Southern America filled with all kinds of restless ghosts and ghouls and monsters; it follows a girl named Emmy who, on her eighteenth birthday, realizes she has a strange connection to these haints, along with a whole family of other mediums, psychopomps, and witches.

Read if you like: Southern Gothic, haunted forests, power struggles, uncertain pasts, whispers in the night, amazing but morbid character design, stunning artwork in muted colors

8. The Bloody Chamber, Angela Carter (1979)

A fairly famous collection of short stories, most of Carter’s works are feminist re-tellings of famous folk tales like Little Red Riding Hood, Beauty and the Beast, and Bluebeard. Carter’s use of language is exquisite and her stories are quick reads. Themes are about what you’d expect of late-70s feminist writing -- female sexuality, marriage, coming of age, corruption, female relationships -- and her prose has a distinctly Gothic feel that’s just right for this time of year.

Read if you like: Gothic fiction, more creepy folk tales, wolves, feminist reinterpretations, wolves, girls drinking blood, wolves

9. Mr. Splitfoot, Samantha Hunt (2016)

Two connected stories told interwoven together, part of Mr. Splitfoot is about Ruth and Nat, orphans adopted into a religious cult where they learn two things: co-dependency, and grifting strangers by pretending to communicate with ghosts. The other part of it is about Cora, Ruth’s niece, who finds herself first pregnant and second visited by her old, mute aunt who leads her on a strange and inexplicable road trip on foot.

Read if you like: the Fox sisters, unhealthy co-dependency, orphans converging timelines, strange and silent road trips, pseudo-religious cults, doomsday cults, upstate New York

10. Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier (1938)

“Last night I dreamed I went to Manderley again” will always be my personal favorite opening line to a novel, and for good reason: even though Rebecca is known for its plot, primarily through Hitchcock’s film version of the story, the writing is gorgeous. It tells the story of the unnamed Second Mrs. de Winter, who joins her new husband in his mansion on the English coast and is haunted by the memory of his first wife.

Read if you like: stories about rich people, Jane Eyre, gorgeous prose, being the second wife of a rich man with a dark past and enjoying the lap of luxury even though his dead wife is haunting the shit out of you, Alfred Hitchcock, British mysteries, that late-1930s posh English aesthetic

Have any other good spooky October reads? Let me know! I’m always looking for more to read and recommend and I’d love to hear what books you revisit when the Halloween mood strikes--

#book recommendations #halloween books #ghost stories #horror #halloween #long post //

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donghun-s · 6 years

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the very large sp3arb tag

so @sp3arb has tagged me in a total four tags recently and i’m finally getting around to all of them!! tysm for all the tags, meri (btw i love your name?? i think its super cute!) and i hope you learn a bunch of unnecessary stuff abt me lmao (under the cut bc this is a long ass post)

i dont have a name for this tag

1ST RULE: Tag 9 people you want to get to know better

im not tagging anyone bc im bad at things and most ppl i wanna know about, meri has already tagged so

2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true.

APPEARANCE: - I am 5'7 or taller - I wear glasses - I have at least one tattoo - I have at least one piercing - I have blonde hair - I have brown eyes - I have short hair - My abs are at least somewhat defined - I have or had braces

PERSONALITY: - I love meeting new people - People tell me I am funny - Helping others with their problems is a big priority of mine - I enjoy physical challenges - I enjoy mental challenges - I am playfully rude to people I know- I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it - There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY: - I can sing well - I can play an instrument - I can do over 30 pushups without stopping - I am a fast runner - I can draw well - I have a good memory - I am good at doing maths in my head - I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute - I have beaten at least 2 people arm wrestling - I can make at least 3 recipes from scratch - I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES: - I enjoy sports - I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else - I’m in a orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else - I have learned a new song in the past week - I exercise at least once a week - I have gone for runs at least once a week in warmer months - I have drawn something in the past month - I enjoy writing - Fandoms are my #1 priority - I do some form of Martial arts

EXPERIENCES: - I have had my first kiss - I have had alcohol - I have scored a winning point in a sport - I have watched an entire TV series in one sitting - I have been at an overnight event - I have been in a taxi - I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year - I have beaten a video game in one day - I have visited another country - I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts

MY LIFE: - I have one person that I consider to be my Best Friend - I live close to my school/work - My parents are still together - I have at least one sibling - I live in the United States - There is snow where I live right now - I have hung out with a friend in the past month - I have a smart phone - I own at least 15 CDs - I share my room with someone

RELATIONSHIPS: - I am in a Relationship - I have a crush on a celebrity - I have a crush on someone I know - I’ve been in at least 3 relationships - I have never been in a Relationship - I have admitted my feelings to a crush - I get crushes easily - I have had a crush for over a year - I have been in a relationship for over a year - I have had feelings for a friend

RANDOM: - I have break-danced - I know a person named Jamie - I have had a teacher that has a name that is hard to pronounce - I have dyed my hair - I’m listening to a song on repeat right now - I have punched someone in the past week - I know someone who has gone to jail - I have broken a bone - I have eaten a waffle today - I know what I want to do in life - I speak at least two languages [i don’t speak two, i speak one and sign in another] - I have made a new friend in the past year

alphabet tag

Rules: answer the questions in a new post and tag 10 blogs you would like to get to know better

I was tagged by Roxanne ( is it ok if I call you Roxy? I like Roxy) Actually @lxx-fxlix And for some reason it did not give me the notification you did, I was casually stalking your blog when I saw:

A: age? 16 (01 liner)

B: birthplace? North Carolina

C: current time? 7:53 pm

D: drink you had last? Arnold Palmer (half sweet tea, half lemonade)

E: easiest person to talk to? for me, it’s my irl best friend gwen and my best friend on here, krys

F: favorite song? oof i’m super indecisive so i’m just gonna commit to mayday by got7 (it always changes but mayday has stayed on my constantly rotating playlist for nearly six months now; most are on for six weeks, max)

G: grossest memory? uh probably when one of my swim lesson kids tried to eat a bug (they were like four) and i had to make them spit it out into my hands

H: hogwarts house? proud slytherin!!

I: in love? i love a lot of people, but i’m not IN love

J: jealous of people? not anymore, my self-esteem has gotten so much better in past years

K: killed someone? uhm a couple of times in fics (*cough* jinjin in not like this *cough*)

L: love at first sight or should i walk by again? not love but pls walk by again bc i’m probably enjoying your aesthetics

M: middle name? christine

N: number of siblings? one, an older sister

O: one wish? to adopt a kid with no family or an unhealthy one (obvs when older and financially stable)

P: person you called last? my sister called me yesterday morning, and before that i had called my friend to tell him abt a near death experience when i was driving

R: reasons to smile? something good will happen to you, you’ll meet someone wonderful, and there’s always new experiences to happen

S: song you sang last? poet by bastille (an underrated fave)

T: time you woke up? about 8 am

U: underwear color? light heathered grey

V: vacation destination? i’d love to go to greece someday! santorini would be my first choice, and then my great-grandparents old village near thessaloniki

W: worst habit? probs my dermatillia (picking at acne on my face until it bleeds, then picking at the scabs, leaving a bunch of scars that will never go away)

X: x-rays? i got one on my tailbone one time, two years after i sprained it bc my mom didn’t believe me

Y: your favorite food? uhhh most anything tbh; i quite like the honey butter chicken sandwich from pdq

Z: zodiac sign? libra

✨ Fun Facts Tag ✨

Rules for this are:

Have fun with it!

Tag some of your mutuals

1) Favourite colours:

orange!! and after that, any kinds of pastel or muted darks

2) Favourite song at the moment:

lotto by exo has been on replay in my head, my car, and my earbuds

3) Last book you read:

the sun and her flowers by rupi kaur

4) Last TV show you watched:

i tried to watch part-time idol bc hyunbin from jbj was in it, but within the first 15 minutes they set up an unnecessary relationship so i had to nope out of there real hard; i then reverted back to rewatching white collar for the fifth time

5) Last movie you watched:

does john mulaney’s nerflix comedy special comeback kid count?? if not, probably nightmare before christmas way back around christmastime

6) If you have a pet whats their name?:

four dogs: pheonix, kino, midge, and bess; three horses: little man, gem, and andy (ironically i’m allergic to dogs and horses, and my dad keeps buying more)

7) If you have siblings how many?:

one, my older sister

8) Favourite thing to do on a weekend:

i love doing my swim lessons and seeing all my kids!! i haven’t been able to lately bc of the weather,

9) Best tumblr friends:

i only talk to @cheesyramynry on a daily basis, but i have a lot of blogs that i consider friendly acquaintances or casual friends as well!!

10) Favourite thing about yourself:

i value my compassion and empathy above all else; i am very much the mom friend and love to be it

11) Favourite memory:

ah i have so many; i think rn i’m gonna go with this past christmas, bc it was my last one with my grandfather

12) 3 weird habits:

swallowing gum, taking all my pills in descending size order, i tend to mimic how a singer sounds when i sing along to the song (ex: if they have a british accent, i’ll subconsciously sing in a british accent; if they stress certain syllables in certain ways, i’ll do it too)

13) What would you call your style?:

comfortable (stretchy jeans, t-shirts, hoodies) and with a few signature Gay Things (jean jacket, flannels, oversized mens’ button ups, a couple gay/bi pride shirts)

14) Odd talent:

if i have lyrics in front of me to a song i’ve never heard before, i can predict the pattern of the tunes and rhythm and sing along the first time

15) Do you have a tumblr crush?:

literally all of aroha and all of the sk fandom (y’all are the loveliest fandoms i’ve ever been a part of)

the stray kids tag

Rules: answer the questions in a new post, and tag 10 blogs you would like to get to know better.

I’ve decided that in celebration of Stray Kids pre-debut album I needed to create a tag. The ultimate goal for The Stray Kids Tag is to learn about your Tumblr mutuals, and have fun answering the Stray Kids related questions! Here we go:

1: When did you decide to join the Stray kids fandom?

i saw a thread of information abt the suspected nine members before they were officially announced and was like ‘yes i must stan them and love them with all of my heart.’ so uh,,,,, back in august or september??

2: What is your favorite episode of Stray Kids? uhm, i’m gonna expose myself rn and let y’all know that i’ve never actually seen a full episode of the show; as soon as i heard it was gonna be a survival show, i knew that i couldn’t watch it bc my heart was too weak and i was emotionally incapable of becoming too invested while watching it; but from clips, i quite like the episode with the 3:3:3 mission, and also the last episode when all nine were reunited and told they were going to debut together

3: Who would you say is your bias in Stray kids?

my initial one was chan, and they i got rlly confused, and then slowly came to realize that it was jeongin (anything else after that is a fucking mess)

4: Who would you say is your bias wrecker in Stray kids?

literally kill me all of them bias wreck me so hard bUT hyunjin, jisung, seungmin, and chan have been wrecking me so hard in particular lately

5: What line would you want to be apart of in Stray kids? uHHH not dance line bc swimmers have 0 coordination on land; i quite like singing even tho i’m not good at, so probably that, but i can also hit all of chan’s english rap parts in 3racha songs, and keep up with lafayette’s raps in hamilton, and a lot of the english rappers i like too so uh,,, sign me up for rap line too

6: What is the first song you heard of Stray kids? hellevator

7: What is the first song you heard of 3racha? i think it was either hoodie season or runner’s high

8: What is your favorite song on their pre-debut album?

young wings or school life or yayaya (or grr or 4419 or glow or hellevator)

9: What is a concept you’d like to see Stray Kids try in the future?

i love their current optimistic and slightly rebellious teenager concept rn bc its an Eternal Mood; but i always love myself a soft boyfriend concept

10: if you could meet with the members of Stray kids for one day what would you say to them?

how proud of them i am, and how proud of themselves they should be; i would tell them about how they’re saying things that resonate deeply for their fans and i love that they’re talking abt real world problems; i would also make sure to tell them (chan and 3racha especially) to make sure to rest more, and eat well, and take care of themselves emotionally as well as physically; and finally i’d like to tell jeongin how wonderful he is and that he’s doing so much at such a young age (lmao he’s actually eight months older than me but that’s no the point) and to never lose his cute little smile

finally done!! meri, if you actually read all of this, uh thank you????? i hope you now know everything you wanted to know abt me, and probably more than you wanted to know

i’m bad at tagging people, so if you also made it this far and haven’t done some of these tags, choose one, or a couple, or all of them and do them yourself!! just say that i tagged you!!

#mel talks #tags

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kusunokihime-mobile · 4 years

Text

Sugin Ryū

INFO

Full Name: Suigin Ryū Age: 20-22 (default, varies by verse) Date of Birth: October 15th Ethnicity: Native of Hi no Kuni Orientation: Panromantic / Demisexual Gender: Cisgender Female Residence: Konoha; Kusunokizan Occupation: Regenerative surgeon in Konoha Hospital Kekkei Genkai: White Hands of Healing, River of Vitality Chakra Natures: Yin; Yang; Yin/Yang Blood Type: A- Location associations: Hi no Kuni; Konoha; Kusunokizan Team: N/A Rank: Sage

BIOGRAPHY

Ryū was born in a village in mountainous northeast Hi no Kuni known as Kusunokizan, wherein her clan was based. The clan, with the surname Suigin, had always been focused around medical ninjutsu and defensive barriers: a peaceful clan with no shinobi training. When the village was attacked when Ryū was only four by Iwa rebels, she remained the only survivor, found later by Hi no Kuni ANBU cleaning up the bodies.

Taken to Konoha, she was deemed unfit for adoption due to her kekkei genkai (the village wanting to keep her isolated as a ‘valuable resource’). When it came time to join the Academy, she refused, insisting to be trained solely at the hospital to hone her medical ninjutsu. The council relented, giving her private lessons for the basics in her village-assigned quarters when not training under other medics.

By age twelve, she was certified as a full-fledged medic after completing the necessary exams. Joining the staff full-time, she worked diligently to continue her work and further her training as she was able.

When Tsunade returned to Konoha, the Sannin admitted to recognizing Ryū as the daughter of someone she knew briefly before the girl’s birth. Given a new interest in her roots, Ryū put in a request to revisit her home village, wanting closure about her past. When she arrived, she found the ruins of her village, but also the singular dragon sage, Suigin, that had called the mountains home for centuries, and was the source of her line’s prestige. Desperate to further her training and learn more about her past, she decided to stay in the ruins of her home to receive the training she would have had, had the village never been destroyed…including her sennin state, barriers, and powerful medical ninjutsu.

She remained in Kusunokizan for nearly three years, returning shortly before Naruto when her teacher heard from the other sage, Gamabunta, that great change was coming over the land. Feeling she would be needed, she decided to return to the village to lend aid however she could. With fully-mastered medical ninjutsu and sage arts, she is a force to be reckoned with, comparable to Tsunade with her healing prowess, and capable of mighty defense with her barriers. Though she has no combat training, she can hold off most shinobi with her defensive techniques, never resorting to violence, but able to hold her own nonetheless.

PERSONALITY

Ryū is a rather muted individual, usually presenting as shy, quiet, and polite. She always uses honorifics unless previously asked not to, or if she has a very close, personal relationship where they are not needed. Caring and maternal, she abhors violence and confrontation, playing peacekeeper in volatile situations. She can be stubborn, especially when defending her beliefs and morals. Though she is usually level-headed, certain topics or situations can get a rise out of her temper, which is steely and cold (though it can be more fiery if she is physically confronted, or during other personal circumstances). If a loved one or innocent is threatened, she will not hesitate to face a foe to do what she can to protect them.

APPEARANCE

Ryū has white, wavy hair that falls to her mid-back (she usually wears it up in a high tail with framing locks around her cheeks and a tapered fringe while working - otherwise, it’s worn down), fair skin, and grey eyes. Her body shape is hourglass, with a C-/D chest. She stands at approximately 170 cm. Blood type is A. Birthday is October 15. She usually wears clothes in greyscale colors, with separate sleeves and a coat of her own design, alongside standard dark shirts and pants. A small pack is attached to her right leg, and carries medical supplies. She wears open-toed/open-heeled dark-grey boots that reach just below her knee. After completing her sage training and returning to Konoha, she had a tattoo of her clan crest put on her left shoulder blade, in order to always take a piece of home with her wherever she goes. It's simple black ink, about the size of a deck of playing cards.

STATS

NINJUTSU 5/5

TAIJUTSU 3/5

GENJUTSU 1/5

INTELLIGENCE 3/5

STRENGTH 2/5

SPEED 2/5

STAMINA 2/5

SEALS 3/5

TOTAL 21/40

VERSES

White Hands of Healing

Main canon verse. Leaving Ryū a virtual stranger to any other characters, this verse sees her as a blank slate for interactions and forming new bonds with muses. In this verse she's in the same age group as Itachi by default, but it can be adjusted as necessary. An orphan from the third shinobi war, she's taken back to Konoha and raised there to become a medic to make use of her bloodline. She eventually becomes a top-tier healer and sage after learning under her family's teacher, and otherwise lives out her days in Konoha. She has an optional child in this verse, Reika II, for next gen interactions.

Into the Abyss

Secondary canon verse. When Ryū and Obito have a chance meeting during the timeskip, it leads to a whirlwind romance that - though shallow at first - soon grows in both affection and danger. After the war, Obito survives, and after their share of struggles, they have a family of their own: a son, Reiji. But as happy and loving as the family is, the stigma against Obito remains... Ryū is three years younger than Obito in this verse.

What Remains

Secondary canon verse. Jiraiya, returning after the Kyūbi's rampage, discovers his daughter Ryū in Konoha. Deciding to stay, he takes her in and fulfills his role as Naruto's godfather, raising the pair of them as his own. Ryū later befriends Uchiha Itachi, the pair becoming childhood sweethearts. When Itachi later becomes Hokage as a peace deal with Konoha, the pair decide to get married and have a daughter, Usagi. Ryū is Itachi's age in this verse.

Ryū no Ryokan

Secondary canon verse. Ryū returns to her home village after the fourth war, and with Konoha's help, repairs the village and turns it into a mountain retreat for both wealthy guests and long-term patients from any land. She runs it alongside her master Suigin, finding giving her home new purpose and returning at last. Ryū is 22+ in this verse, but it can be adjusted.

Wild Child

Secondary canon verse. Ryū, the last survivor of Kusunokizan, isn't rescued by Konoha, and instead is raised by the dragon sage Suigin. Practically feral, she lives more as a dragon than a human up in the mountain peaks. Age can vary.

A Life Anew

Secondary canon verse. Ryū is taken from Konoha by her uncle, Ao, wanting to protect her from the world of shinobi. But the pair are later discovered by Jiraiya. Despite their bad blood, the men decide to use their common concern for Ryū to help raise her together outside Konoha. Ryū is Itachi's age in this verse.

A Light Amongst Shadows

Secondary canon verse. In this verse Ryū is the same age as Shisui (headcanoned as eight years older than Naruto). Mostly follows canon up to 699 - Ryū is found by Uchiha Manami, Shisui's mother, and the two children grow up as friends. After his apparent suicide, and later the massacre of the clan, Ryū steps up and helps raise Sasuke. She's lightly involved in other canon matters, and when Shisui is revealed to be alive after the war, they bond again and eventually marry and have a family. But not everyone is happy more Uchiha are alive...

Best Years of Your Life

A modern AU typically revolving around high school or college years. Kept vague for plotting! Age can vary.

Catch 'Em All

Pokémon verse. Ryū, having been raised by Hiruzen (Mr. Fuji) in Lavender Town, helps him take care of orphaned pokémon. But when the threat of Team Rocket looms, he has her take all of them to Fuchsia to be released into the Safari Zone reserve out of their reach. Armed only with her bonded pokémon, a shiny Dratini, she makes the journey alone, eventually becoming part of the staff and helping manage the park and protect its pokémon. Her team eventually consists of her Dragonair, Chansey, Charizard, Kingdra, Gyrados, and Rapidash. Age can vary.

Divine Light

Fantasy verse - based on original lore but can be adapted for more general fantasy threads. Ryū is a Lux el'ven, or light elf: one of the last of her kind after the wars. Able to heal, make barriers, and create portals in time, she wants to help rebuild the world of the el'ven and reforge the Elemental Council of the twelve elements to solidify peace. Age can vary.

Healing Waters and Scorching Flames

Avatar the Last Airbender verse. Ryū is a waterbender from the South Pole, from a small, isolated clan that focuses on healing. Age can vary.

Like Magic

Harry Potter verse. Ryū, a Hufflepuff, dreams of one day being a Healer like her mother was. Age can vary.

To Rule Them All

Royalty / Medieval verse. Ryū is the princess of a matrilineal line in the kingdom of Kusunokizan. A neutral state, there's pressures mounting from neighboring kingdoms to finally choose a side. Age can vary.

Of Monsters and Men

A modern monster verse based on original lore, but can be adapted for other verses. Ryū's default in this verse is a hybrid of snowy owl harpy and succubus, but I've also written her as a siren and a mermaid! Age can vary.

When Dead Walk

Zombie verse. Kept vague for plotting!

(Other verses are available upon request - please IM for more details!)

ABILITIES

Sage Mode (Sennin Mōdo)

Sage mode taught to her by her teacher, Suigin. She has 2 years of training as of the beginning of the Shippuden seasons.

White Hands of Healing (Iyashino Shiroi Te)

Kekkei genkai. Allows for faster, more efficient healing. Chakra can be guided through user’s own keirakukei to heal injuries directly. Has a calming effect, and can be used to sedate/calm patients.

River of Vitality (Katsuryoku no Kawa)

Minor kekkei genkai. While in Sennin Mōdo, can passively gather Nature chakra, though at a slower rate than meditation.

JUTSU

Wall of Defense (Bōei no Kabe) (Sennin jutsu)

Barrier that repels anything physical; not genjutsu or sound.

Wall of Incineration (Shōkyaku no Kabe) (Sennin jutsu)

Barrier that incinerates anything physical with highly-condensed chakra.

Wall of Mirrors (Kagami no Kabe) (Sennin jutsu)

Barrier that reflects light, and renders anything beneath it unseen.

Soul Retrieval (Tamashī no Kaishū) (Sennin jutsu)

User enters the void to retrieve a single soul.

Snare (Shikake-sen) (Sennin jutsu)

Makes nature-based chakra tripwires that can alert her to physical movement. Is affected by distance - the further she is from the set lines, the weaker the signal until it disappears completely.

LINKS

[ Asks ] [ Character Tag ] [ Inbox Calls ] [ Starter Calls ]

[ ref artist ]

#;bio #;rpc #;suigin ryū

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someraesofsun · 7 years

Note

Hey I feel bad if you're getting hate, I honestly wanted to send a writing thing but I was like eh you don't wanna hear from me. But anyways what if like there were these two artists. One did photography and the other was a painter and they argued about which was better and eventually they find out they like each other because the photographer has secret pictures of the painter painting and the painter has painted the other while they were working. Hope that's decent.

Hey I made this Giles because you literally cannot stop me. Also sorry this took ten years.

Title: In the Eyes of the Beholder

Pairing: Geoff/Miles

Word count: 3,874

Rating: E, some cursing

There was always one person in your circle of friends that you just could not bring yourself to like. One person at least that you kept at an arm’s distance for their personality alone. For Miles, that person was Geoff. Among his found collective of artists, he met a variety of different creators that he would have never even known existed if not for the wonders of the internet. There was Kerry, a sculptor. Mariel did murals and graffiti art. Then of course there was Lindsay, a knitter, Michael, a cake maker with the most beautiful designs. Mica danced and Matt was a digital artist, Barbara designed clothes and Kyle wrote. All of them made such amazing, creative, inspiring things that in their own special way, affected Miles’ own photography work in positive ways.

Then there was fucking Geoff.

The first time Miles met said ‘fucking Geoff’ was at their first face-to-face meeting after weeks of talking with one another on a local forum started by Mariel to reach out to new fellow artists. Her original intention was to meet street artists, specifically. But instead, she was pleasantly surprised at the diversity of talent she brought together. Not a single one of them had the same talent. Everyone was so varied in what they not only considered art, but how they expressed that interpretation. It began a lot of discussions, it unified a group that would otherwise not talk to one another. Miles was proud to be a part of it.

Miles never liked Geoff much in internet form. He was a painter, and one that hardly took his own skill seriously, so why would he bother thinking much about anyone else’s? Well, that wasn’t exactly true… he was always quick to compliment Mica’s videos, Lindsay’s new knitting projects, Kerry’s realistic looking busts. But he never had anything to comment on with Miles’ pictures. What was the deal with that!? Miles wasn’t usually the type to take offense to ‘ghosting’ on the internet. But serious, what the hell!?

He got his answers at their first meeting. The coffee shop. The first time he ever laid eyes on Geoff’s stupid face which had probably the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, but that was beside the point. Those eyes belonged to a horrible, ignorant man. A fraud of an artist. An absolute dick.

They all dragged a couple high tables together to accommodate for their large party. Some people he immediately recognized, like Mica, who showed her face in her dance videos. Some people he had no idea on. Was that the elusive Kerry, elusive sculptor extraordinaire who turned scrap metal into one of the most haunting modern pieces of the decade? Was he sitting next to Matt, who knew his way around a muted fall color palette like nobody’s business? Everyone recognized Mariel, she posed with all her work in her pictures of it. Everyone mumbled out introductions amongst themselves. The man next to Miles turned out to be Michael, not Matt. He gave Miles a shoulder shove and spoke in a loud, matter-of-fact voice.

Miles was interested in the man with the blue eyes and the tattoos all over his arms. He sat across from Miles and kept glancing back at him. Each time he looked over, Miles felt his heart pound. Something about those eyes, he’d love to get a few pictures of the man. Maybe a number, a dinner date that ends at someone’s place, a marriage proposal and-

“Alright guys! Looks like everyone’s here! Time for the formal introductions.” Mariel stood from her seat and turned to her left, motioning to a blonde woman with a smile. Yeah, Miles wouldn’t mind a date with her, either! What’s her name? “We’ll start with you.”

“I’m Barbara, hi. I’m Blawndee on the forum. I see some of you are even wearing my designs today, so that’s really neat.” Barb! Wow, Miles had no idea Barb was hot. Why didn’t he wear anything she made for him today? Stupid move! He definitely blew all his chances with Barb the second he didn’t wear one of her shirts. Oh well, there was always tattoo man…

Next to Barb was Lindsay, also really cute. Miles was smart enough to wear a Lindsay-made scarf. Then came Kyle, cute. Matt, cute. Mica, who was really cute and laughed at the end of a lot of her sentences nervously which only made her more cute. He’d met Michael already and that left…

Oh, he was next. Oh. Social anxiety was suddenly haunting him. He stood from his seat, looking on at all his friends. Talented, wonderful friends who were also all far too attractive for his liking. “Um. Hello! I’m Miles, lunatic24 on the forum. And I’m the photographer!” He held up the camera looped around his neck for effect. Across the table, he heard a snort.

A snort!?

Nobody else got a snort!

Miles looked towards the direction of the snort, as did the rest of the group. All eyes laid on the tattooed man fidgeting in his seat. He did move around a lot, and cover his mouth with his paint covered hands to hide his smiles. As cute as the gestures were, Miles was no longer seeing a future with him. “Um, hi! Who are you?”

“Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to… ha! Sorry.” He looked erratic with how much he shifted in his seat. “Just… photography.”

“What about it?” Miles said defensively, the rest of the group went silent.

“No, no. It's just that… well come on, I can't be the only one here that thinks it's such a bullshit art.” Geoff looked around the table to very blank faces.

“You probably are, asshole. What the hell do you do? Who the fuck are you?” Miles glared, well, if he thought he was getting a date and marriage proposal, the tattooed dickwad sure had another think coming!

“Geoff. A guy who actually makes shit instead of capturing it.” Geoff rolled his eyes. “Don't take it so personally. It's not like you do much anyway.”

“Geoff-” Mariel was about to intervene, until Miles cut her off.

“Says the guy who probably hasn't picked up a camera in his entire life, but sure, go on.”

“Miles-” Mariel’s irritation grew with the interruption. Still the two continued to bicker.

“Oh buddy, I was a journalist in the army and took pictures of shit that would keep you up at night if you saw it in person. I can take pictures. It took me a week to learn how to do it decently? Not art.”

“If you learned properly, how could you possibly not consider it art!? The rule of thirds, the color theories and shit, it takes time to line up and get the perfect shot-”

“Bah! It's nothing! Taking a picture is easy! You press a button and there it is for you-”

“-A perfect shot which may never even-”

“-Have you ever even tried to paint a tree? No! You haven't! You just point a lens at one and-”

“-You truly know nothing if you're gonna compare two completely different-”

“-You take a stupid picture and you call it avant garde while I spend weeks-”

“-two complete different forms! Both of which are valid and-”

“GUYS!” Mariel's voice boomed through the cafe, her first slammed on the table, causing everyone's cups to slosh around and clatter. Silence once again. “I… I think we've had enough debate time for today. Before everyone even got to introduce themselves. So how about we just let it the fuck go. Yeah?”

That was the first time they met. They had since debated even more of whether or not Miles was a true artist. Something about the camera just put Geoff off. He was happily willing to accept knitting and writing as forms of expression, but he refused to ever see photography as anything other than taking pretty pictures of stuff that hardly matters on its own. Unread of his pretentious opinion that all Miles did was document. He didn't contribute to the beauty. He didn't create anything from what wound up on his film roll. It was all happily provided to him by nature and the grace of god and all he had to do was take the snapshot of it. Geoff, he argued, was a creator. He took the paints and the canvas and he transformed it. Barbara took yards upon yards of fabric and made it into something wearable. Lindsay knew how to tie yarn together in such a way that she made practical items. But Miles? He didn't even make the film. He was a spectator. He was a hobbyist. He was never an artist.

Every trip out, Miles was reminded this. Days out to the park were met with Geoff behind his easel, painting a stupid still life of a stupid flower while spouting off his stupid opinions. His way of capturing the beauty of the flower was far superior, far more crafted than Miles’ way. Art gallery trips were met with his distaste that they even had a photography section, as he went on and on about the value of real, fundamental art. It was always the fundamentals with him. Every pompous statement he had was met with gav rise of anger from Miles. Deep down, Miles knew that was exactly why he said all those things. To get a rise out of him. And yet here Miles was, giving him exactly what he wanted each and every time. From the red in his cheeks to the bite in his responses. All Geoff did when he got this way was smile. It was infuriating every single time!

Miles wanted to prove him wrong. He wanted to take his camera and create a photograph so perfect, it was like a painting on its own. All he needed was a subject, and the perfect lighting, manufactured by him of course, and the right mood. An unedited shot that showed beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not only an artist, but a talented one at that. He talked in great detail about his mission among more polite company. He'd grown close with Barbara and Lindsay, in particular. They knew all about his struggles with the tattooed painter. All they had to say about it was just how concerned they were getting for the man's health.

“I'm concerned for your health,” Lindsay said over lunch one day with Barb. “You worry too much about what one guy thinks about your artform. So what he's got something against photography? He's an ass.”

“You do tend to obsess over everything he says. I don't think taking a really nice picture is going to sway him.” Barbara glanced at Lindsay with a frown to match her own. “It's… stupid to dwell on him.”

Miles narrowed his eyes at the two. “You think I'm obsessed with him? Oh no, this isn't obsession. Don't you see? This is drive. He wants an artist, I'll give him an artist.”

“He never said he wanted an artist out of you. He just said that you weren't one.” Lindsay pointed out.

“Well he's wrong, because I am. And I'm going to show it.” Miles said through gritted teeth. He looked too crazed for the comfort of the blonde and the redhead.

“Um... So. You've heard this sort of thing before, I'm sure. We all have. You're not a real artist. This isn't a real job. This is a hobby.” Barbara paused, choosing her next words carefully. “Why is it… different when he says it?”

“Well he's one of us! He shouldn't even be thinking like that! It's a betrayal to the arts, it's-”

“His own stupid, useless opinion.” Lindsay interrupted, eating a forkful of pasta. “Miles, he's literally doing this for a reaction. You're an idiot.”

Despite his inability to counter statement, Miles continued his pursuit of upstaging Geoff. For days he searched for that perfect picture. Rolls of film all used up as he furiously took pictures of everything and anything he could find. Nothing was just right enough, though. He struggled to find that perfect snapshot into life that would blow Geoff's mind.

It was bumming him out!

It wasn’t until one day, when the group all came out to help Mariel with a street Mural, that Miles finally found the perfect shot.

It was a sweltering hot day, the blank canvas came in the form of a brick wall in Central Austin. The only person who looked like the wanted to be there (and oddly, the only person who wasn’t a sweating mess) was Mariel, but it was good experience to see just how the artist made all her amazing designs reality. Everyone helped in painting in an already sketched out design. Mariel drew it out like an elaborate paint-by-numbers project, each individual sketched out spot was given a specific number for which places to shade and where what color went. Miles put himself in charge of the easiest looking parts, the light blue sky. Minimal change in colors. And he got to draw in the birds.

By 3 o’clock, everyone was exhausted from the heat, splayed out on the grass of a nearby park and taking advantage of the shady trees. All but one, Miles realized. For across the street, at the big brick wall with a half-done mural, was an tattooed man in cargo shorts, covered in paint, still taking a smaller brush to the wildflowers that lined the bottom corner of the mural. Miles watched him for the longest time, he sat up and after hastily wiping his hands on his own shirt, he pulled out his camera and snapped a picture of what he saw.

There was something compelling about what he captured. Geoff, all alone and still painting. The incompleteness of the mural. How the paints faded to red brick in unfinished places. When it was edited and printed, Miles couldn’t stop looking at the finished project. It told a nice story of commitment to work or something of the like, or maybe it just looked nice. Miles couldn’t decide what he liked about it, but it had to be one of his favorite shots.

Thus began a very strange fixation with taking pictures of Geoff when he went out with the artist group.

He carried his camera around his neck everywhere he went, still on the quest for more and more perfect shots. He couldn’t dare to use any pictures of Geoff to one-up Geoff, oh no, that was his pride on the line. But Geoff was quickly becoming his favorite subject. A night in playing cards with the artist group turned into a portrait Miles took from across the room of Geoff peeking up from behind his cards, a glint in his eye seconds before he laid down a flush. At coffee shops with him leaning against the wall, tall latte in hand, talking with Michael about something or the other. Snapshots of him in mid laugh so full of life, you could hear his trademark laughter if you looked at the photo long enough. By the end of five weeks, Miles had pictures of nothing but one pretentious painter and his beautiful, intricate tattoos. Geoff had no idea just how well-documented he was by Miles.

Also in those five weeks, Geoff was… less cruel. He wasn’t exactly nice, but he no longer tried to get under Miles’ skin. Miles didn’t understand it, nothing had changed much. Except that he talked less to the Geoff and the group overall. He was invested in his own project, finding that shot. Getting it on camera. Show Geoff how wrong he was about photography. One barbeque dinner on a gloomy day at Lindsay’s, Miles felt the gaze of someone while he was on laying on his stomach, taking a picture of a cat that had wandered into the woman’s yard. He turned and looked up, catching Geoff staring at him from the porch. For the longest time, the both of them were still, then Miles smiled, getting up and pointing his camera up at Geoff. He snapped a picture. It was all it took to snap Geoff out of his gaze.

“Argh! Don’t do that!” He broke eye contact with Miles, rolling his eyes. “I.. was supposed to check up on the ribs. Everyone went back inside, isn’t it cold out for you?”

“Kinda. But look. Kitty!” Miles let his camera hang off of him while he bent down and picked up the gray tabby cat. “He’s really fat, isn’t he? He’s collared though.” The cat mewed, as if offended that Miles would point out his figure.

Geoff looked briefly conflicted before he sat down at the abandoned table and chairs. “You ever thought about just… leaving that damn camera at home for once?”

“Nope.” Miles carried the cat over to Geoff and sat down next to him. He scratched behind the tabby’s ears, which was responded with a low purr. “Taking pictures is what I do! And this cutie was too cute to ignore, he’s so photogenic.”

“He looks pissed off.” Geoff replied flatly.

“That’s because you’re here.”

Miles dodged an arm swat with a laugh, and for a second, they might have at least appeared friends for a second. Geoff had a look in his eyes that Miles couldn’t place the meaning of. “You know, now that I think about it, taking pictures is about all you do. What’s up with that?”

“Well, uh,” Miles shrugged, faltering. “I guess I just see a lot of beauty in a lot of things. I wanna capture as much as I can, knowing that it’s not going to last forever. That’s why I like it so much. It’s quick. Painting takes time, you might miss a detail or something might slip by you. But a photo is, well, I guess you’re kind of right. It’s easy. You can capture an exact moment and it’s going to stay alive with you forever. The hard part is making sure you catch those moments before they get away. Kind of like catching butterflies in a net or something. You only have so many chances.”

Geoff didn’t say anything for a while, looking at Miles and taking all of what he said in. “That was beautifully put.” He looked away, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. His hands fiddled about and he stared straight ahead. “When I was in the army, the stuff I saw through a lens was rarely pretty.”

“I can imagine reporting for the army wasn’t all… wildflowers and cats.” Miles swung mindlessly swung his feet before setting the cat back on the ground and removing his camera from his neck. He handed it over to Geoff. “Here. Try it now. There’s plenty of pretty right here if you look for it.”

Geoff looked at the camera skeptically, but took it and held it up to his face. He glanced around the yard for a few seconds, zeroing in on a stray dandelion in the grass. The camera clicked and he looked at the preview screen.

“Huh. Not bad.” He mumbled, tilting the camera towards Miles. “Wanna see?”

Miles looked at the picture and nodded. “Good. Yeah. A little out of focus… but good!”

“Oh shut up, Luna.” Geoff laughed and pulled the camera away. “What other shit you got on here?” He opened up the gallery, scrolling through all the different pictures. Miles was suddenly on high alert. He definitely had an old SD card in there.

“Oh, you don’t want to see any of my-”

“What the fuck is this?”

Geoff was stopped on a picture of none other than himself. Mid-laugh and taken today at the barbeque. He scrolled through and saw even more pictures of himself. All taken at different events and get-togethers. “...Holy shit dude, are you stalking me?”

“No! No, no! Not really! Fuck, shit! That’s what it looks like but no!” Several bells were going off in Miles’ head. He panicked and struggled to think of an explanation. “I just take pictures of things I like looking at, and you’re very… aesthetically pleasing. The tattoos and the eyes and… hair. Messy hair. I like it, I like taking pictures of… it.”

“My… hair.”

“No! Not just your hair! All of it, you, all of you. I just like your… look. That’s all. And you always seem to be the subject of some of my best work, so I developed this weird… fixation. Or something.”

“I’d call it obsession, but tomato, to-mah-to.” Geoff only seemed slightly phased. He shrugged and handed the camera back to Miles. “Well… thanks. I’m flattered, a little freaked out, but also flattered. I guess I can’t even fucking talk…”

“What do you mean?” Miles asked, confused.

Geoff sighed and pulled out his phone. “This isn’t some artsy bullshit picture, but I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of it anyway.” He opened up his gallery and scrolled through it, flashes of progress photos of unfinished work flew by until he stopped, tapping on what looked like a complete painting on an easel. He handed the phone over to Miles.

It was a portrait. A smiling man with eyes half-closed and a wrinkled flannel, holding a camera. It was Miles. “...You painted me?”

“I paint things I like looking at. You take picture of things you like looking at. There. Now we’re even.” Geoff mumbled. “Now I won’t immediately go to Kerry and Kyle and tell them that you’re my own personal paparazzi, if you make sure Michael never fucking knows about this painting. He thinks we’re going to hook up or something, teasing me relentlessly over it.”

Miles barely heard anything Geoff said, he was stuck looking at the picture of a wonderfully done painting. He captured his likeness perfectly, all while still flattering him. He smiled. “I like it. I love it, it’s amazing! I won’t tell anyone about it, yeah... “

“Great. thanks.” Geoff rubbed the back of his neck, red blush blooming on his cheeks. “...You take good pictures. Really good. I haven’t seen something with my face on it look so nice before. I guess you got some kind of talent in you kid.”

“You… you mean that?” Miles grinned and began to feel bashful. “Well, I mean, I spend so much time on angles and candids like that are pretty complicated, I’m still new to the idea and-”

“Put your number in my phone.”

“What.”

Geoff laughed, elbowing Miles in the rib. “You heard me! Put your number in my phone, i’ll call you up for dinner sometime. You can tell me all about angles then. For now, I should really check up on the chicken. It’s probably all burnt and shit because you distracted me with your stupid cat photoshoot.”

“I… okay. Yeah. Number in phone, you handle the chicken. Yep.” Miles closed out of the gallery, putting his number into Geoff’s phone with a small smirk. He looked up while Geoff tended to the food on the barbeque. “It’s a date. Don’t tell Lindsay I said that. It’s a date.”

“Sure. it’s a date.”

The chicken was very much burned.

#Giles #ragehappy #Throwing this out into the world without any sort of proofreader to look it over #half of it was typed on mobile #I know there's a dumb autocorrect typo in there #I just fucking know it #Anonymous

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karninari · 7 years

Text

in one ear, out the other

Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki

Notes: Bakugou/Kaminari – adventure; “let’s get matching piercings!”

also on ao3

Upon entering the gas and market, Bakugou asks Kaminari the same question he'd used back in the car, "You do know that you can use your phone to take us there, right?"

At his side, Kaminari is disentangling a thick pamphlet in his hands, spreading fold after fold of the map he'd bought from a city back. He pauses to roll his eyes, the action just barely visible through his shades, "Where's the fun in that, Bakugou? Don't you want to experience asking around for directions and getting lost in an unfamiliar city?"

Usually it was just Kaminari that came down to take care of unnecessary stuff like this while Bakugou filled up the tank, but the needle has budged little since their stop in the last town, so he'd been ushered out of the truck and into this pasty white shop filled to its brim with junk food.

And not only that, but he's forced to stand in line while Kaminari browses the greasy shelves, enduring the unwavering stare of the young girl standing beside her father who makes casual conversation with the employee, popping bubbles as she cranes her neck to look over her shoulder at him. A few minutes pass before they finish their purchases and step out of the way, and Bakugou drops the glare on his face that had appeared fascinating on someone three times smaller than him, grumbling to no one, "Not when I'm the one paying for gas."

He doesn't bother initiating pleasantries. That's what he has Kaminari for, who returns in time to greet the tired cashier that sits up in her seat at the polite smile Kaminari flashes her, "Excuse me, do you happen to know where this place is?"

Holding the map up over the counter, Kaminari points to a secret destination, one that Bakugou couldn't catch a glimpse of before it had been lifted out of sight. It was meant to be a surprise, although he had a sneaking suspicion it was another tattoo and piercing shop for another of the latter to add to the collection decorating Kaminari's ear, and by default, Bakugou's as well.

Bakugou absentmindedly plays with the huggy on his lobe, wondering if the metal was starting to get worn from the constant rubbing, unlike Kaminari's persistence, which hasn't faded in the slightest since day one.

He misses the whole conversation conducted in hushed tones, but finds little need to catch every detail like someone who was owner to a wandering mind.

With a quick thank you to the cashier, Kaminari folds up the country map they had absolutely no need for, excitement radiating from him, "C'mon, I know the way!"

Speak of the devil. Dropping his hand, Bakugou pushes off the counter, shoving the glass door open and activating the electronic bell that signals their exit, "Then let's fucking get this over with so we can get back on the road. This place is already becoming an eye sore."

They've been on the road for a few weeks, stopping every night or so for some well-earned rest, interchanging the peaceful nights with late night driving, exploring the country by car to their heart's content. There was no real destinationーsometimes they found themselves in the same city more than once, but never in the exact place as the time before. This aimless traveling was sure to put a hefty dent in their pockets, or in other words, their parent's pockets, but nothing screamed ditching responsibilities like taking a road trip one odd summer between college semesters.

Thinking about coming back was not the kind of thoughts Bakugou liked to have in the middle of night, staring aimlessly at the ceiling until his vision blurred and faded to near darkness, only to come into fruition once he blinked again. It was nearly morning, but the world really did go out of its way to mess with him, reminding him that he still had a career to pursue and a life of his own to create. By all means, it isn't the most daunting task he's encountered, one that Bakugou can do in his sleep, but a vacation is called a vacation for a reason, and sleep should already be a given.

Releasing a sigh that does little to ease his strung shoulders, Bakugou tugs the sheets up until they're all he can see and closes his eyes, tempted to call for the dreams to come and stop evading him like a coward.

This creepy, not quite realistic motel, with its neon lights and faded wallpaper, was really giving Bakugou the chills, but perhaps that was due to the air conditioner that wouldn't turn off no matter how hard Kaminari had tried to turn down the temp that was blasting cold air through the paper thin coverings and keeping Bakugou from settling in comfortably.

With a groan, Bakugou abandons all care and rolls over the imaginary line his mind had created to divide the space on the bed, moving away from his side to the naturally warmer portion that Kaminari takes up, sound asleep and snoring ever since his head had hit the pillow.

Kaminari doesn't shift or wake as the bed dips and creaks with Bakugou, nor when he draws the sheets closer. Bakugou doesn't go as far as taking up the empty space left on Kaminari's pillow, scooting his closer so their pillows overlap crookedly. The last thing he wanted was to make the mistake of sleeping too close and getting drool in his hair again. His neck is slightly elevated, but he can worry about the soreness tomorrow. A few hours of uneventful sleep was all Bakugou was asking for.

Thankfully, it welcomes Bakugou with open arms, greeting him warmly and syncing his breathing with the soft eupnea filling the room.

With the aimless exploring comes the occasional visit to tourist traps. Exploring the Golden Pavilion's gold-leafed floors is peaceful, the sight of the outer gardens and ponds a welcoming turnaround to the dazzling sights of the city. Kaminari almost doesn't want the walkthrough to end, wholly enjoying the muted chatter of touring families, but it doesn't hurt to spare a few minutes away from preserved nature when he sees children of those same families gather around one of the smaller, older attractions here.

He tugs on Bakugou's arm, who'd been busy admiring at the scenery. This location had actually come up in a conversation the other day, suggested by Bakugou himself. But one look at what Kaminari excitedly points out to him has Bakugou cracking the thoughtful gaze he's wearing to pull a face and shake his head, "No way."

Kaminari gives him a grin, nodding insistently, "Come on, Bakugou, everybody who comes here has to toss some coins in for good luck! That's what I read online, anyways."

Even with the untimely confession of admitting to doing "research" for the first place that Bakugou has had a desire to visit since the start of the trip, the frown on Bakugou curls further downward, the unflattering yet cute wrinkling of his nose beginning to form as he says blandly, "I bet it was from a stupid traveling blog."

There's nowhere to go but forward, so Bakugou doesn't offer up much resistance when Kaminari pulls him off the path and towards the age old display of stone carvings that has garnered up its own crowd in the looming shadow of one of Japan's most popular buildings. The kids present here look to be aiming at the senescent, cracked bowls filled with change, a tough target for any young child who couldn't see much past the wooden railing.

Kaminari bounces on the balls of his feet, digging around in his pockets for a couple coins as Bakugou voices his distaste, "This is child's play."

It may very well be, but Kaminari is rusty and misses the first few throws. Miffed, Kaminari offers Bakugou to try, covering up his terrible aim to ask, "Then why not take a chance, Mr. I'm-too-cool-for-luck?"

Scowling, Bakugou snatches the coin from his fingers, looking down at the round piece for a moment. Kaminari expects to have it returned back with a half-assed excuse pinned to it, but in a stroke of luck, ironically enough, Bakugou accepts the challenge.

To no surprise, Kaminari hears the clink of stone and metal as Bakugou takes little more than a moment to draw his arm back and flick his wrist, successfully making it into the central bowls on his first try. Kaminari has to give him props for that one, clapping to the chorus of ooh's and wow's from the kids that had paused to watch, handing Bakugou another coin, "Now try throwing for me. I have bad hand-eye coordination."

Bakugou rolls his eyes as the coin is pressed into his palm, "No duh, I was in the same physical ed class as you back in high school, you were fu-" He appears to pause and bite his tongue before turning back to the stone arrangement, "-really terrible at basketball."

Pleased at Bakugou's attempt to smother his usual brashness for the sake of the children that are within earshot, Kaminari agrees, sitting his elbows on the fence as he stares at the way Bakugou scrunches his eyebrows in concentration, "I was, wasn't I? Probably because I was always watching you."

That causes Bakugou to miss by a mile, bouncing their last piece of spare change off one of the stone facets, but Kaminari is sure that, being a loyal believer of naive superstition, he's been granted enough luck to last a week when he's met with Bakugou's furiously flustered expression.

"What?" He asks, feeling the smile on his face grow obnoxiously wide, and a beat passes before he's being dragged away from the display.

"We're leaving. I wanted to come here to see the sights, not throw away money."

Spying a tea shop further down the path, Bakugou was sure going to eat those words once he tried out the tea they served here, even as a man of simple taste for tea. Mentioning the color riding high on Bakugou's cheeks would only backfire on Kaminari, so he lets Bakugou off easy this time, shifting his arm until they're properly linked together and Bakugou has no way of getting out without making a scene, "Lead the way, then."

They had just parked the truck for a minute to take a breather, but commotion to the left has Bakugou shutting his hardcover, a sharp clap of paper against cardboard to seek what's wrong: that catches Kaminari's attention as he's tugging a shirt the rest of the way over his head, one with an all too familiar skull printed to the front, "Is.... that my shirt?"

Combing the static from his hair, Kaminari checks the mirror for any flyaways before sitting back in the driver's seat, hands crossed atop the wheel, "Yeah, all mine are dirty." He smiles crookedly, and, in every sense of the word, cutely, "What, do I look bad in it?"

On the contrary, it fits him quite well for a tank top that Bakugou can hardly move in without the worry of stretching the seams.

He parts the pages again, going back to reading, "Just don't get it caught in the wrong laundry load when you wash it."

"You got it!" Kaminari gives him a quick salute before adding, "Oh, and I hope you don't mind me wearing your sweats either. You know, I don't I'll ever get over how small your waist is-"

Bakugou cuts him off with a wave of his hand, shooing away any further blathering before they could get carried away with it, "Alright, enough about me. Focus on driving."

Kaminari dutifully starts the engine, "Yes sir!"

Bakugou is still thinking about the clothes Kaminari had borrowed when they're a few miles down the road. Sorting through the mental inventory of his suitcase, Bakugou recalls having only one clean pair of sweats left that he kept for emergencies, which unmistakably falls into the same category as being the one he favors most over the rest.

His gut feeling proves right when he sees the district red string of elastic keeping the sweats snugly on Kaminari's hips. Kaminari had made mention of the size of Bakugou's waist, but neglects to remember that he always buys bottoms that are a few sizes too big.

Bakugou averts his eyes before he could judge his staring as too long for almost looking directly at someone's crotch. If not for the implications behind removing another person's clothes in a space as tight as this, Bakugou would've gone and yanked his favorite pair of sweats off Kaminari right then and there. Instead, he settles for crossing his arms and brooding over the odd satisfaction that's beginning to settle in from seeing Kaminari wear his clothes.

Doing laundry no longer sounded like a task of high priority anymore.

"I still can't figure out how the fuck you dragged me into getting piercings with you every goddamn time," Bakugou admits to Kaminari as he's laying back in the operating seat of a tattoo and piercing shop.

No matter what town they visited, scarce population and establishments or not, Kaminari would scour for a place to get a new ear piercing or two before the ones from last time have fully healed. If not for Bakugou's persistence in refusing to risk infection or whatever kinds of conditions came with "being an idiot and not following standard safety precaution," who knows what they could've contracted.

In all fairness, this is only the second shop they've stopped by after Bakugou said fuck it to waiting any longer than a six week period. They could be potentially playing with fire by extending the healing period in adding more piercings so close to the others, but here Bakugou was, sitting in the same seat that Kaminari had taken up earlier, so there was no point in turning back now. They were both strangely resistant to pain too, as it turned out, which is always a plus.

"I can be quite convincing," Kaminari reminds him, "and didn't you say once that getting piercings are badass?"

Bakugou doesn't look quite as threatening, wearing pink clips to pull back his hair and expose his ear, "Not when I'm matching with you!"

"Then what would you call this?" Kaminari asks, curious of what Bakugou thought of this rare but mutual arrangement that's begun to form in the few months they've been traveling. Sure, there were breaks when they came back home, but that only lasted a week or so before they were back on the road, hitting the three week mark today.

"It feels really..." Bakugou pauses as though to search for what to say, but any further prying from Kaminari is cut short as the body piercer rolls up in his chair, wiping the skin to be punctured with a wet swab, and holds the instrument steady so it hovers over Bakugou's ear.

Like the first time, Kaminari extends a hand to be taken, an odd happening for Bakugou who normally shies away from physical contact. But he was human like everyone else, and a little comfort never hurts where it's needed.

He can't quite piece together what word Bakugou would've used before falling quiet, but Kaminari can think of one word that encompasses this tradition as Bakugou squeezes his hand through the sudden sharp sting of the piercing gun forcing the adornment to pierce his skin. Bakugou doesn't blink once through the pain that fades like cool water on fire, pulsing yet bearable, but he does release the breath he's holding, scarlet eyes on him, and Kaminari can't find it in him to look away.

It feels almost... intimate.

The weather is never at its best, even during the summer. They've had their fair share of summer rain and gloom interlaced with the dry spells of nothing but sun, sun, and more sun. These days were filled with little activity and plenty of time to catch up on sleep, like Kaminari was doing, using Bakugou's arm, the most inconvenient replacement for a pillow, to cushion his head from the hard armrest.

Exiting the highway, Bakugou watches the wall of fog seemingly move with the position of the truck, an illusionary sight that he almost falls for with his lack of sleep. Once he makes it to the stoplight, Bakugou uses those precious seconds to close his eyes shut, forgetting the last time he's gotten a rest.

It wasn't really anyone's fault; he could've merely woken up Kaminari to take over for the night, but the point of this whole trip was to escape the rush, hustle and bustle of duties like arriving at a location at a designated time, when there was no real deadline to be late for here. Bakugou had felt like driving until he couldn't anymore, and now seemed to be the right time to retire from that task.

He remembers the directions his phone had given him before it had died, and makes a right before pulling into the motel parking lot, recognizing the glowing sign that he'd spotted from the highway, flickering sporadically like it was signaling him over through morse code.

Bakugou can hardly make out what time it is, as displayed by the old, rickety clock tower belonging to the motel, but instead of bundling up and toughing out the chance cloudy storm to pay for a room, Bakugou flicks the windshield wipers off and puts the truck into park as best he can with a person on his arm, and makes himself comfortable in the worn seat of his truck.

With the final seconds of caressing warmth from the heater before it clicks off with the keys now removed, and his arm extended in an awkward but not unwelcome position for Kaminari to lay on, Bakugou sinks into his jacket, eyelids heavy and beginning to burn from long hours of staring down a road that stretched no further than a car ahead in every direction.

Guess it was another night in the car. Not that Bakugou was complaining, soon to wake up a few hours later with his head laying against Kaminari's, soreness the last thing on his mind.

Morning comes, and the predicted pain turns out to be quite different than expected.

Seeing red through his shut eyelids, Kaminari sighs and shoves his face into Bakugou's shoulder, turning away from the blinding rays of the sun from its place above the buildings, the thick fog of yesterday a thing of the past. Bakugou is still asleep, a weight on Kaminari's head as they use each other as pillows in the upright positions they've maintained throughout the night. But as much as Kaminari wants to watch Bakugou as he rests, he really should wake him up.

It takes a few prods to Bakugou's side to get him groggy and grumbling about being awake, but he doesn't move far before Kaminari feels a tug on the shell of his ear.

"Bakugou, wait a sec," Kaminari holds his shoulder still, unable to move his head without feeling pain. Bringing his fingers to his ear that had also been pressed up against Bakugou prior to waking up, he searches for what's keeping him there, and finds a stud earring in his ear that's entangled in the loose threads of Bakugou's shirt, "Ow, I think I'm stuck."

Running a hand over his face, Bakugou remarks gruffly, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Kaminari clears his throat to speak, just now becoming aware of how close they were planted together, "Y-Yeah, this is a first."

"I'll do it." Bakugou bats away Kaminari's fumbling fingers so he can do it himself. Kaminari tilts his head, letting Bakugou work away the knots that had caught on his piercings, wincing every now and again when the metal dug into his skin in a certain direction, which was few and far between under Bakugou's attention and careful touch.

"There." Once releasing the final knot, Kaminari straightens his neck to alleviate the slight ache that had been developing in his crevical muscles. With Kaminari free, Bakugou snaps the useless thread sticking up from the brand new hole on his shirt before tossing it away, "Stupid fucking loose ends, high quality t-shirt my ass."

Kaminari rubs at his ear, only to have Bakugou stop him with a hand, "Don't touch it, idiot."

He lifts his hand up from irritated area of his ear, "Then what else are we gonna do to soothe the pain?" Kaminari tries to recall the instructions for cleaning a piercing, "Well, I have some hydrogen peroxide in my bag, and I think a few cotton balls-" He doesn't catch Bakugou taking matter into his own hands and leaning in until he feels the press of lips on his ear as he's rambling. Kaminari's words crumble and die, the heat rushing to his face and the awareness of Bakugou kissing his ear better cranking up to full sensitivity.

Bakugou pulls away after a few long seconds of wordless silence, and the place where he'd touched burns hot when Kaminari ghosts his fingers over it. He reattaches his jaw from where it'd fallen slack from shock, working it back into place as he finds the brain power to talk again, "... Or that could work too."

Bakugou is strangely silent when he reaches for Kaminari's backpack sitting in the back seat, grabbing the bottle of antiseptic and package of cotton swabs. Kaminari stiffens at the cold press of cleaning alcohol on his ear when a soaked swab is applied to the inflamed area, but Bakugou takes it as him tensing from the pain, and somehow his touches becomes more gentle. This is certainly a first in being under Bakugou's care without fuss or protest.

"Wanna kiss me somewhere other than my ear?" Kaminari punctuates it with a stuttering laugh, heart lodged in his throat.

"In your dreams," Bakugou speaks with usual snappiness, but he doesn't look at Kaminari once as he puts away the stuff and tosses the bag off to the side, the only hint Kaminari gets of Bakugou being embarrassed about uncharacteristic show of affection.

Being kissed by Bakugou is certainly a common occurrence in Kaminari's dreams, so that was already checked off long ago, not that Bakugou needed to know... just yet.

Biting his lip, Kaminari covers his burning ear, the pain forgotten with Bakugou's unorthodox remedy.

He can tell that Bakugou is getting annoyed with his antsy fidgeting, arms propped on the windowsill of the door and knuckles digging into his temples, but the anxiety-inducing motion doesn't last for much longer once they roll up into town and Kaminari spots the closest store that he's sure to hold a bathroom.

"Hey, can we stop here?" Kaminari pipes up, tapping on the glass window to point out the store where he could find sweet release in relieving his bladder.

Bakugou jerks his head around, hissing out the word in a reflection of his own annoyance, "Why?"

"I have to pee." He's straightforward about it, smiling diffidently as Bakugou sighs in response. There was no doubt that Kaminari was wearing Bakugou's patience dangerously thin with his words alone.

"I just asked you an hour ago if you needed to use the restroom. In the last town."

"I didn't have to go at the time."

"I'm dealing with a fucking child," Kaminari hears Bakugou says to himself, or perhaps directly to him. It certainly sounded better in Kaminari's head, but he doesn't have to think up a better excuse when Bakugou pulls over to the curb, "Fine, but make it quick."

Bakugou at the beginning this trip would've just kept driving or thrown a bigger fit before letting Kaminari off, but he's begun to stomach his complaints and let the minor inconveniences go, which Kaminari is eternally grateful for, and almost prideful about. His change in attitude wasn't just an individual effort.

"Thanks!" He'd kiss Bakugou right now out of gratitude, but his bladder would sooner explode before he could gather the courage to make such a bold move. Maybe later. For now, Kaminari unbuckles his seatbelt and runs out, albeit awkwardly with the sensitivity of each step. He can already hear Bakugou making a sarcastic mention of it when he returns, but lately, they've started to sound more like teasing and less condescending as the days have passed.

Having such odd, unreliable traveling schedules has really fucked up their sleeping and eating schedules, as Bakugou feels a rumble come from his insides and leave him with a strange sense of emptiness in the pit of his stomach. They're not far from the hotel, the place they've been staying at for the past few days to get their bearings on visiting a brand new prefecture, but in a moment of weakness and intense craving for food, Bakugou enters the shopping center a block away from the establishment.

Lightly sleeping at the time before Bakugou stops the car, Kaminari shield his eyes against the inner car lights that brighten to life, blinking them open to see better, or worse, in the drastic visibility change, "What time is it?"

"Ass crack in the morning. Hell if I know," Bakugou answers, not bothering to check. He feels the truck rock with Kaminari's stretching as he extends his arms to the high roof, "You coming or not?"

As he shuts off the light, he can make out Kaminari rubbing his eyes, "I thought we were going to the hotel?"

"I'm hungry, so I thought I might as well but some groceries. It'll only take a few minutes. You can stand up on your own two feet, can't you?" Bakugou asks, mostly out of sarcasm, which Kaminari doesn't catch in his somnolent state.

"Hm, I guess..." Kaminari shrugs, speech slurred from sleep. He doesn't have to join Bakugou, but despite that, has decided to do so anyways.

Bakugou gets out, shutting his door only to hear a suspiciously loud thud from the other side of the vehicle. Peeking over, he finds the car door swinging out wide and no Kaminari, but hears him groan out, "... Ow."

Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea to let Kaminari, who's been out like a light for most of the day, to be up and about.

Before Bakugou can call him, Kaminari picks himself up off what Bakugou can assume to be the floor, having forgotten in that moment that leaning on a door as he opened it would end with him falling out of the truck. He brushes himself off before prying his eyes open and flashing him a weak thumbs up, "I-I'm okay."

On the way in, Bakugou hovers behind Kaminari in case he's half as clumsy as he was getting out of the truck. Not that it wasn't funny to see Kaminari try to function while delirious with sleep, but a chipped tooth or broken nose could put a damper to the night or early morning or whatever hour of the day it was. He does lose sight of Kaminari when they enter the automatic sliding doors and asks him to grab a cart, but true to their plan, Kaminari comes over after a handful of slow-crawling minutes Bakugou spent weighing ramen versus yakisoba.

What Bakugou comes face to face with when he greets Kaminari really shouldn't have been as surprising as he makes it sound, "Why the fuck are you in the cart?"

Kaminari laces his fingers on his stomach, shifting his weight so his legs dangle from either side of the cart, "You've forced me awake, it's only right that you push me around in return."

Bakugou waves the noodle package in his hands as he speaks, "I didn't- Does everything I say just go in one ear, and out the other?"

"Just the stuff I don't wanna do." Closing his eyes, Kaminari waves him away like a king dealing dealing with flippant matters and a fickle audience, "Now onward, mush."

Bakugou checks the aisle they're in, seeing an employee at the other end that can care less about a grown adult crammed into one of their carts. They're both ready to turn in, so Bakugou lets Kaminari's lethargy slide for tonight. All he wanted was some noodles, and for convenience, stopping by for a snack was a better alternative to purchasing the overpriced ones courtesy of the hotel establishment looking to slip a few more dollars from their occupants.

"Whatever, just don't drop anything." Bakugou dumps the groceries onto Kaminari's lap, not caring if they spilled over. He pushes the cart, intending to stop by the snack aisle. They were running low on Kaminari's favorite candy, if Bakugou was recalling their stock correctly. He was already dozing in the cart, somehow finding a comfortable position in the metal bars and hard angles.

Bakugou purposely runs the cart into a pole on the way to the next aisle, jolting Kaminari awake for the sweet taste of petty satisfaction when he jerks up in a daze, and so he can ask him which one exactly is his favorite, but that's the only time. Kaminari doesn't need to know that Bakugou helps him out of the cart and buckles him into his seat once he's got everything they needed.

"How much money you got on you?" Leaving their hotel room for the day, Bakugou hands Kaminari the spare key, "As you know, this town only accepts cash."

Patting down his pockets for his wallet, Kaminari counts the bills inside, "Mm, not much."

"We are not living off gas station food for another week because you blew all your money on fucking souvenirs in the middle of fucking nowhere," Bakugou says, actually shuddering at the memory, like all the steel had left his spine.

"That was fun!" Kaminari begs to differ, putting away his wallet, but he goes back on his word in the next moment, thinking hard on it, "... Okay, yeah, maybe I did feel sick and throw up a little, but-" He stops to muffle a laugh as he remembers how Bakugou had groaned and griped about the stomachache he had from consuming more candy in one day than he'd ever eaten in his whole life.

That tourist trap from a few weeks back in the middle of nowhere had been a money pit, according to Bakugou. He was probably right, but Kaminari was pretty sure they still had the bag of knick knacks and goodies somewhere in the back, only granted the privilege to stay in their possession because he refused to let Bakugou toss them out. That meant they at least had some retaining value apart from "glorified trash".

Bakugou shoots him a glare, daring him to bring it up again as he gets into the truck, "I'm going to the nearest atm and we're gonna eat at a real restaurant, goddammit." Like any other place they've stayed in for an extended period of time, Bakugou has already memorized the layout of the streets they've frequented. For a Kaminari swears he has a photographic memory sometimes, which could be how he passes all their midterms with little studying.

He stops, forgetting Bakugou's impressive show of memory for a second to ask, "Wait, you're paying?"

"Who else is going to?" Bakugou questions back, as though it was obvious that he be the one to cover for the bill whenever they eat out at restaurants, like he always does.

"I could do it," Kaminari suggests as a last ditch effort. He did feel a little bad that Bakugou was always the one paying.

"I obviously have better taste in food, so don't bother." Well, Bakugou wasn't wrong about that. Kaminari snorts at the stubborn purse of Bakugou's lips as he backs out of their parking spot, allowing a minute to pass before he brings forth a compromise, "You can cover dessert, if you'd like. Your choice."

Kaminari looks at him incredulously, "Really? Anything?"

Bakugou glances over at him, choosing his words carefully, "Just... nothing I'm gonna get a damn heart attack from."

That still left a vast range of selections to choose from. Kaminari wholeheartedly agrees, grinning broadly, "Okay!"

Bakugou knows not to expect decisions to always come that easy. A perfect example of what their arguments normally tends to stem from is when he changes the radio station, but no sooner than when his finger leaves the buttons does Kaminari switch it back over.

Bakugou's eyes twitches. Being the driver, Kaminari has easy access to the wheel's system controls, including the secondary controls for the radioーand he's set on letting the song play out in its 10-minute entirety of indecipherable vocals and head-throbbing screeches of a guitar.

They glare at each other over the armrest. Bakugou meets Kaminari's stubborn line of a frown by flashing the barest hint of teeth, digging his elbow into the rubber and using his slight height advantage in the truck to tell Kaminari, "I'm not playing around. Get rid of this shit, or I'll gladly do it for you."

Kaminari glowers back with just as much heat, "You are not changing the station! This is my favorite song!"

A song that has been overplayed one too many times. It was as though the DJs seemingly used nothing but the same playlist every afternoon when they were stuck in traffic, appeasing Kaminari's peculiar tastes and sure to drive Bakugou crazy. "Keep talking, and this is the last song you're ever gonna fucking hear!"

"Ew, it's way too hot to be almost nighttime," Kaminari complains with a whine, peeling away the collar of his shirt from his skin. He's already unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, using one of the old magazines Bakugou kept stored in the back to cool himself down. Spending the day in a car with heat wave temperatures is one of many downsides to a road trip. "Can you turn on the AC, Bakugou?"

While Kaminari voices his complaints, Bakugou prefers to keep his to himself, sure to go crazy if they filled every minute of every day with protest. "You're hot?"

"Appearance-wise, yes. I'm glad you think so," Kaminari replies cockily, laughing into his hand when Bakugou feel his cheeks burn with the heat of the car and something else, "But yeah, I'm nearly drenched in sweat. We should be good regarding the engine, right?"

On the dash, the needle for the coolant temperature sensor twitches midway up the scale, but nowhere near the red line, meaning that the engine wasn't going to be overheating anytime soon.

Bakugou is all too aware of the sweat plastering his shirt to his back, and the mucky heat as he draws in a breath, so he grunts in agreement, turning the air conditioning system on. It takes a minute or two of bated silence before they feel the effects, and share a sigh of bliss.

Kaminari puts down his makeshift fan, bringing his face close to the vents, "Ahh, thanks."

The next hour passes with little interruption, Bakugou watching the forest scenery shift into one of the sea, and Kaminari alternating between leaning over his crossed legs to enjoy the refreshing air and asking if they were at their destination yet, incapable of understanding that posing the question every five minutes wasn't going to make time pass any quicker.

Reclining back into his chair once the heat becomes tolerable in the small space of the truck, Kaminari fixes his sunglasses back over his eyes as the sun reflects off the side mirror, still peeking out through the hills at their backs. It's impossible to distinguish between the blond of Kaminari's hair, and the orange light aglow on his skin as he quietly watches the sunset.

That thought drags Bakugou's gaze back to the road and away from the peaceful expression Kaminari wears, blaming the heavy thumping of his heart on the looming cliff that lingers mere feet from the truck's wheels. He has no fear of heights, but following his better judgement, Bakugou leaves it at that, knowing that lingering in his thoughts would only complicate his already convoluted feelings that he'd hoped to escape.

They set up camp in an empty yet modest campground, no less then a few hundred feet from the dirt road where the truck sits parked for the night, in a small cluster of trees where the outskirts crest into a small hill that overlook the beach. The ocean is obscured by this hill, but the larger waves that come with the rise of the moon are an indication that a little fun in the water was only a two-minute trek away.

Sitting together on the blanket Bakugou had thrown out from the trunk in their unpacking for the night came to be of some use with the discovery of a hidden box of beer that Kaminari didn't know was tucked into the furthest corner. According to Bakugou, he'd bought it a few stops back on that late foggy night in search of groceries, nearly a lifetime ago by traveling standards. It was only fair that they'd make use of the alcohol in the easiest matter possibleーby drinking it.

Kaminari finds his distracted thoughts yielded by Bakugou speaking, "My turn?"

Taking his eyes off the sea, Kaminari smiles at Bakugou in a challenge. He takes it, putting a bit of thought into his next words, probably concerned about how he was losing a game for the first time in his drinking years. "Alright. Never have I ever cried my way out of a speeding ticket."

"Three games, and you still haven't learned, Bakugou." Kaminari shakes his head, lifting the can to his lips and tasting the sharp, Tandy character of the beer. He's certainly had better drinks than this. "Can I replace the crying with flirting and call it a done deal?"

"You actually did that?" Bakugou raises an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief in his tone before the surprise melts away, "Shit, of course you would. Since you're so set on drinking for pleasure instead of following the rules of a game you suggested, be my guest. Don't expect me to pick your drunk ass off the floor later."

"I'll be fine." Setting the can to the side, Kaminari leans forward on his elbows, "Okay, okay, I got one for you, Bakugou. Never have I ever invited someone to join me in a crazy countrywide road trip."

Bakugou pauses with the can already halfway to his lips. Most of the things Kaminari says are strangely specific instances that hit a bullseye with Bakugou, so he's just begun to take a drink with every new round. Being friends with Bakuhou since high school has given Kaminari quite a lot of insight into Bakugou's exciting life.

"That's a low blow." But Bakugou downs the rest of his drink anyway like he'd done with the last two. Even with Kaminari purposefully taking more sips than needed, he rightfully assumes. his place as victor for the third time in a row.

Kaminari cracks up when he crushes it against his forehead after emptying it to its last drop, the weak metal no match to Bakugou's sheer strength.

"I feel like it's super late to ask this question," Kaminari starts, waiting for Bakugou to toss away his old can for a new one, "but why'd you ask me to come with you? On this trip, I mean."

It was something he's been meaning to ask Bakugou for a while, dating back as far as that first week of aimless driving and arguing over who would pay for gas, all while wondering if this was a good decision, and not a bust that would get old in a day. Kaminari hardly remembers the stress of being stuck alone in the same breathing space as Bakugou day in and day out. Nowadays, it was all second nature, being together, but it took a great deal of learning to find a kind of harmony in their travels.

Bakugou pops the tab, careful of the foaming bubbles that stir up from being jostled around back, "Why, you want me to take you home and leave you there for real?"

"It's quite the opposite, actually. As a matter of fact, I like being here, but I was just curious. You aren't the type to suddenly up and decide to partake in a road trip for the whole summer." It may come as a universal assumption to most that Bakugou is impulsive, but he doesn't always base his actions on a lack of rhyme or reason. Not the important ones that take up a few months of a person's life, anyway.

"Who doesn't wanna take a break from college?" Bakugou says in a blatant dodge of what Kaminari was expecting to hear.

"It's only been a few years," Kaminari notes. He also notes how Bakugou begins to bristle at that.

"I know that!" He hardly raises his voice before it falls back to normal. He scratches his head out of habit, but mostly frustration, "It's like I said, sometimes you just gotta get away for a while to, I don't know, find yourself or whatever inspirational crap you're time these days. Not that I have trouble with that. I'm right here."

Coming from Bakugou, those last three words sound like a reminder to himself more than anything, the type of mantra Kaminari would say when he'd find himself in a rough patch and in need of a little self-assurance. "Of course you are," Kaminari says softly, "I can see you crystal clear."

The frown lines etched into Bakugou's face fade, and he's back to playing with the drink in his hands, spilling a bit on his fingers with the constant swirling of its contents, "As for why I dragged you out here with me..." He has little more to offer than a brief shrug of his shoulders, "Who knows. I just thought it'd be... fun for us to do. Together. We never hung out a lot because of school, so..."

All this time, Kaminari had thought it was out of convenience. Kirishima was booked the whole summer with sports camp, and everybody but Kaminari had plans for the extended vacation between semesters. Being one of his three roommates, he was the only one free when Bakugou emerged from his bedroom one morning and asked him if he wanted to take a drive, luggage full of clothes dragging behind him. No simple drive involved needing a change of clothes.

To think that Bakugou had beat around the bush for so long that he couldn't find the right time to ask until everybody had left campus for the summer and Kaminari was eating away his sorrows with cereal that same day.

With the sun no longer in sight, the solar-powered lantern at their feet blinks to life. Kaminari watches the faux fire dance along Bakugou's features, and finds himself nodding along with his words. It's a very Bakugou answer, but one that Kaminari can understand. Not quite as many obstacles block Kaminari like they do with Bakugou, who aims as high as the sun, where everybody can see him, far out of reach but close enough to look up admire.

Bakugou and a star are almost one and the same. The only difference is that Kaminari can see and touch him in the entirety of his fiery presence.

Kaminari sips his drink, biting the brim of the aluminum can nervously. He never would've thought that Bakugou and love would go so well together until this very moment.

Silence falls with the night, and the telltale signs of buzzing insect life has Kaminari sighing in relief that he'd put on bug spray before all this. He uncurls his legs at the tell-tale urge to get up and stretch, maybe even take a piss before heading into the tent for some sleep, but Bakugou hasn't moved, still nursing his beer in his hands and watching for the stars that have begun to light up the night sky, so neither will he.

By now, his eyes have adjusted to the dark and the sparse lighting of the lantern, so much so that he's able to see Bakugou's lips move when he speaks.

"You ever heard of you can turn your ashes into a firework after you die?" An odd question to pop at a time like this, but from previous examples, Kaminari has heard worse. "Go out with a bang or some badass shit like that."

"Sounds like a lifelong dream you'd have on your wish list," Kaminari admits, imagining what a firework with Bakugou's face would look like. Comical, at the very least. But also nice, a sight that Kaminari wouldn't mind seeing if not for the whole dying part. He laughs a little at that, going back to drinking his bitter beer.

Bakugou has to snort at that. "A dream for when I'm dead, yeah." A carefree one, given the scale of goals and aspirations he possesses, but a dream nonetheless.

Kaminari splays his hands on the down blanket, planting it between them. Bakugou feels their shoulders brush, and peers at him as he stares up at the sky.

"You'd make a pretty firework. All orange and yellow, the kind that would go off with a deafening boom and light up the sky." Kaminari lifts a hand and extends his fingers out, making the motion and sound of an explosion for imagery effect before smiling. "That'd surely turn more than a few heads."

"Maybe a dash of red added into it, for your eyes." Kaminari's head finds its way to Bakugou's bare shoulder, nothing to catch him and keep him close but Bakugou's arm, which twitches at the idea as Kaminari stares up at him like he's kin to the luminous moon above, "Real bright... and beautiful." The look Kaminari gives him isn't unfamiliar, but the raw intensity of it spurs Bakugou to act for the first time.

Bakugou blindly puts down his can, not caring if it makes a mess of the blanket, and catches Kaminari's wrist, thin enough that he can easily wrap his index and thumb around it with no problem. He listens for the hitch of breath, feels the thundering of Kaminari's heartbeat in the vessels of his wrist as he accepts the gentle guidance into his lap, knees knocking before they settle with purpose on either side of him.

"Is... this okay?" A question Bakugou should've asked before everything else, but one that's needless once Kaminari nods fervently for him to continue.

Only after Bakugou lets go do those same hands creep up his chest, and Bakugou should regret wearing something thin, feeling the sweat on his brow and gathering in his palms, Kaminari's touch burning through his shirt like a brand, but instead, he leans into the heat threatening to consume him, resting his hands atop Kaminari's hips. The weight of Kaminari on top of him is a physical one, but Bakugou's heart is lighter than it's felt in days, the strange sense of dread that's been crawling all over his skin now lifting away.

But while the inner pent up turmoil disappears, the outer, more obvious problems come riding up with a vengeance. In hopes of alleviating the heat gathering in his cheeks from the intimacy of mere touch, Bakugou tries looking away, but his eyes don't stray far, falling on the red, tender skin of Kaminari's pierced ear, yet to house a new set of studs from their last visit. It doesn't help Bakugou's current state of sanity that he has matching holes along the helix of his own ear, like there was meant to be an underlying meaning behind sharing something so visible for everyone to see.

As each day passes, Bakugou is starting to think that maybe there is an explanation under all the layers they've kept these emotions trapped in; ones that he's never acknowledged until now.

He feels goosebumps rise on his arms as Kaminari curls his fingers around the side of his neck, thumb pressing into the skin below his ear, and Bakugou has always been sensitive about being touched, but there's something about Kaminari doing it, who relies as heavily on skinship as he does on his words, that makes this whole situation feel natural and right.

Bakugou is well aware that if he had really wanted to, he could've made a sharp turn back to home on that first day and ended it right there and then. No exploring, no quiet, bonding moments, no them. But having Kaminari agree to join him; the kind of guy that ran on a ride or die mentality for anyone he cared aboutーBakugou didn't know how dedicated Kaminari was, not just to this trip, but to being his company along the way.

Past the point of admiring, Kaminari quietly asks, in by far the smallest voice Bakugou has heard in juxtaposition to his deafening actions, "Can I kiss you?"

He's leaning as he asks, urging him on to answer. Bakugou answers in the same breath that Kaminari sighs against his lips, "Fuck yeah."

And Bakugou will own up to the fact that he rather likes the idea of them together, in any way possible.

He can stand the taste of alcohol this time, already looking forward to when he can kiss Kaminari tomorrow, with the spirits faded from his tongue but imprinted into Bakugou's memory as he kisses him again and again, as much as he wants. Maybe the next time will be when they're no longer under the moon with a view of the ocean, but those aren't what Bakugou wants to focus on, much more interested in how Kaminari breathes heavy on his lips. In a laugh or a sigh he doesn't know, for they sound the same as music to Bakugou's ears.

"You're drunk," Bakugou's voice comes out hoarse, and his throat is parched, but cheap beer isn't going to quench this kind of thirst with Kaminari sitting in his lap.

"So are you," Kaminari nudges back, "Doesn't change the fact that I really, really like you. A lot."

"I... like you too." There's nothing to it now that they've taken the leap. Confessing almost seems unnecessary after the physical display of emotions that Bakugou just experienced. Still, it's nice to hear the words themselves.

"Next time buy some choice alcohol for me, will you?" Kaminari asks kindly, laying his head and giving him those puppy eyes that he's perfected, learned from the best. And by the best, he means Kirishima.

Bakugou laughs from the back of his throat, perhaps one of the loudest he's ever let out, "You fucking leech."

"I do my part on this trip." Kaminari says with a teasing lilt, pleased with himself as he pats Bakugou's cheek, "Which now includes this." Bakugou doesn't get another coherent word out that night once Kaminari connects their lips again.

The crashing of waves wakes Kaminari from his light sleep.

He rubs from the sleep from his eyes, yawning. It's silent in the car, because Bakugou never likes driving with music in the morning, but he doesn't mind Kaminari rolling down the window and letting nature's music in.

His ears flood with the sounds of water below as they drive along. The desire to keep up conversation had long since died away before he'd turned in, letting Bakugou take over driving duties.

Following this oceanside road through Maizuru, they were bound to reach another multitude of campgrounds soon, where they had plans to spend the whole day, Bakugou's handy camping equipment packed away in the truck and still in good condition from yesterday's usage.

Maybe it was just him, but the ocean smelled the same no matter where they ended up. The time of the year and the weather conditions surely must have some effect, but beyond the traditional salty yet fresh smell of the sea, Kaminari isn't picky about it at all

He sits back down, hair unpleasantly ruffled from the strong ocean wind, which he reaches up to fix. Out of the corner of his eye, Kaminari can see Bakugou staring at him, but when he asks him what's up, Bakugou just shrugs and pays back attention to the windy road he seamlessly navigates through with one hand on the wheel.

This is a breezy ride compared to that one trip to the mountains where Kaminari had ended up stalling the car for overheating the engine from the climb. Bakugou has yet to forgive Kaminari, but thankfully he's granted him the privilege of driving againーon flat highways, that is.

They pass through a city by the beach, and like Kaminari had predicted, a familiar shop wedged between a flower shop and restaurant catches his eye.

"Hey, Katsuki." Bakugou twitches at the name. It's going to be a while before he gets used to being addressed as so. "Mind if we make a stop? I'm sure you'll recognize it once we see it."

The narrowing of Bakugou's eyes tells Kaminari that he already knows which place he's talking about.

Stepping into the tattoo and piercing shopping yet again fills Bakugou with a sense of déjà vu of a moment long time passed. It very well could've happened in another life, rather than two months ago, with how much has changed between him and Kaminari, who holds his hand tighter, leading him to one wall to take a look.

"Let's get matching piercings!"

"Again? I have enough damn holes in my ears to play connect the dots," Bakugou admonishes, but makes no move to drag them out and avoid another two-for-one piercing special, curious of what new stuff they have in store from last time.

"I just noticed. If you follow it, it's almost like a heart," At his side, Kaminari wonders aloud, tracing the shape of his ear, from helix to lobe, as he looks into one of the handheld mirrors on display.

"Then where's the other half?" Bakugou asks absently, eyes roving the selection.

Kaminari laughs under his breath, as though the answer is already obvious. Kaminari, with his finger sitting in the loop of his earring, long, untrimmed hair falling into his face from the slow-crawling weeks they've been on the road for the summer, escaping college and responsibilities after a late night whim of a requestーone of many decisions that Bakugou doesn't regret in the slightest.

"Maybe with you," Kaminari says softly, glancing over as he hides a smile with the back of his hand.

Bakugou gives him a good, long look, fighting off the rising blush from the honesty, "... Let's get your damn piercing, then."

Kaminari actually freezes, smile falling out of surprise, the hope coming back into his voice, "Really?"

He jerks in a nod, leaving the wall to inquire about a walk-in appointment, "Yes, now come on." It doesn't take long for his hand to be grabbed and thank you's to fall on his ear. Kaminari's sappy revelation certainly made zero sense, but perhaps a dash of impossibility is what Bakugou needs in life.

It's already bright enough in the back of the shop to be met with the brilliance of Kaminari's smile once a new temporary stud finds its way through his skin, so Bakugou blocks it out by shoving a mirror into his face, holding a cotton ball to the newest addition to his own ear, which is a familiar ache by now. It's certainly one he can associate with the fluttering of sickeningly sweet butterflies in his belly when Kaminari brushes away his fingers to take the cotton from his fingers and aid in soothing the stinging pain.

This may well be their last visit here, with the coming signs of fall that can only mean the start of the semester and classes. Still, Bakugou has just enough time to spare to kiss Kaminari before they have to head over to the front and payーand as long as he can make time for moments like this, Bakugou is sure that he'll be an unstoppable force to the not-so-immovable object that is the world.

#gracelessly smashes together every road trip cliche there is in the universe #bnhafest #boku no hero academia #bakukami #bakugou katsuki #kaminari denki #AU #my fics

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