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shihalyfie · 3 years

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Some fun talking about and analyzing the tri. stage play, and its relationship to Kizuna

The tri. stage play (full title: "Super Evolution Stage! Digimon Adventure tri. August 1st Adventure") is honestly quite an unusual entry in this franchise, even within Adventure standards. Nearly everything about its production is unusual -- the entire genre it's in is unexpected, the choice of time period to release something like this is unusual, and moreover, now that Kizuna’s out, a lot of people have noticed a lot of suspiciously similar themes and even language, most notably the key “we’ll always be together” line (phrased even exactly the same way in Japanese). In fact, despite ostensibly being a tri.-branded product, other than a few vague token nods to the anime series in the play itself, said stage play has very little to do with the actual anime sharing its name, so the similarity to Kizuna is even more striking in retrospect.

Perhaps another interesting thing about this play is that it’s a very good example of a standout work in the Adventure universe that didn’t have any original creator involvement (other than some minor tips from Seki). I think there’s often a tendency for people to think that in order for a sequel or spinoff to be true to the original, it has to have some member of original staff on there, especially since the Adventure (and 02) characters tend to be a bit overly complex and it helps to have the reassurance that someone who knows them is behind the wheel -- Kizuna used the presence of Seki and Yamatoya as an outright advertising point -- but this stage play’s director and writer had no experience with the franchise beforehand, not even as a fan, yet still made a very respectful product that has generally been received well by Adventure (and 02) fans and even got the original director’s approval, too. If anything, that makes it all the more impressive!

(Note that the below text spoils the story content of the play, but not Kizuna’s to any substantial degree.)

Some production background

Anime and video game stage tie-ins are fairly common -- much like this one, they tend to have very short runs and are targeted at a limited audience -- but they’re usually stereotyped as being for the otome crowd (i.e. predominantly female otaku audience), so works like this are generally associated with it. As a result, when this play was announced and released between tri. Parts 4 and 5, quite a few people were surprised, because this franchise originally came from products associated with shounen anime. In practice, this was a period where it was becoming increasingly clear that there was, in fact, a huge female audience for Digimon (especially Adventure universe), on top of the fact that (as noted by the performers in the final show) the audience for this show ended up being unusually mixed-gender, because Digimon really is universal -- but it did lead to the announcement of the play being initially received with heavy skepticism, partially because of the usual misogyny (stigma around things associated with female audiences, etc.), and partially because this was during a time where...well, saying that a very huge percentage of the fanbase, especially the Japanese side, was really pissed off at anything tri.-branded at the time is kind of an understatement. Ultimately, the play ended up very well-received with a small but dedicated following, and it’s currently referred to as “dejisute” (short for “Digimon Stage”) in Japanese fan shorthand. Bringing it up generally elicits positive critical feedback, even among those who were initially skeptical.

Some interesting things also surround the circumstances of its production as well. As some might know already, the tri. anime series and Kizuna share only one key member of staff: Kinoshita Yousuke, who was involved in tri. Parts 5 and 6, and eventually went on to become the producer for Kizuna and the upcoming 02-based movie. tri. was a work that (for some reason) had a huge number of producers on it, of which Kinoshita was only one; he seemed to have been replacing Arai Shuuhei, who left the project after Part 4. However, while Arai was formerly one of the most visible of tri.’s producers (he was the only one regularly brought up in interviews), how much degree of influence Kinoshita had with tri. is unknown, other than the fact he had no involvement in its story. Given that the decision to make Kizuna also seemed to have been made around Part 5, it seems that Kinoshita may have been brought on specifically for the purpose of observing and prepping for Kizuna, because his role on tri. seems to have been so minimal that the moment he was put in charge of Kizuna, the production philosophy ended up becoming completely different under his management. (When you think about it, tri. and Kizuna have very little in common, other than the rough premises of involving the older Adventure cast.)

The thing is, though, Part 5 isn’t actually the first tri. work Kinoshita is credited for, but this stage play is -- which is interesting to consider when taking into account the heavy amount of thematic parallels between this and Kizuna three years later, and in general the very unusual creative decision to make a stage play that suddenly popped up at exactly this time, making heavier tributes to Adventure (and even 02) than the actual anime it was branded with. Making things even more interesting was that the stage play’s director and writer, Tani Kenichi, was allegedly recruited by an unnamed producer impressed with his work (by the way, did I mention Kinoshita used to work in live-action before joining Toei?). Given all that, perhaps this stage play coming off unnervingly like a sort of Kizuna prototype isn’t all that surprising...

Unfortunately, right now we’re still kind of in a time period where official will get barraged with violently angry comments for even so much as putting the series on streaming services, so it’ll probably be a few more years (if ever) before official will be willing to be more open about what went on behind tri. production, and it’s probably a bit much to get too speculative about things like this when real people are involved. Nevertheless, one thing is apparent: the director and writer, Tani, was a newcomer to Digimon -- not even someone who’d been a fan beforehand -- but watched all of Adventure and 02 in preparation for it and stated openly that he was very, very emotionally touched by it. The work itself is obviously made with a lot of love and respect for the series, and one really cool thing about it is that you can also tell that it came from the perspective of an adult with no preconceived notions about it, therefore meaning it comes from someone analyzing the series without necessarily caving to fanbase mantras, and making some very cogent observations about the characters. It’s also just a fabulous work production-wise in general -- the puppet work and making the Digimon look convincing on stage is very well-done, especially when you consider that this play had only ten showings -- and you really gotta appreciate the fact that, even before Seki gave him a few pointers, he was so passionate about the importance of Digimon partners that he pushed for all eight to be represented despite the expenses.

Taking a look at the play itself

Despite ostensibly tying into the tri. anime series it's branded with, the play only really seems to loosely refer to some of its key elements as taking place at approximately the same time, such as Koushirou’s server, infected Digimon, setpieces like KNIFE OF DAY, and an eventual “reveal” that this seems to take place ostensibly around the rough time period of tri.’s Part 4. Look closely, however, and you’ll notice that a lot of things in the characterization and plot arena actually don’t track much with tri. at all -- for instance, in a very non-comprehensive list of things:

It’s implied that Yamato himself is embarrassed about the KNIFE OF DAY band name and is desperately trying to get through it with passion, which doesn’t quite line up with his attitude about it in the anime.

The timeline just really doesn’t line up; Mochizuki Meiko, Meicoomon, and the infections obviously exist, but you can’t have a time period in Part 4 where the kids recognize Meicoomon as being related to the distortions or infections while also being separated from Meiko. Moreover, the “reboot” just doesn’t seem to have happened at all (and to be fair, if you’re planning on making a two-hour tribute to Adventure, not having the Digimon with memories of said adventure would seriously limit the scope of your plot, so this kind of “leeway” was probably downright necessary).

The tri. anime series portrayed Takeru as having a very sharp shift in language, presumably under the implication he’s putting up a front as a flirtatious, aggressive playboy, and so his first-person pronoun was turned into the aggressive ore and his way of referring to Yamato aniki. In Adventure and 02, Takeru had used the polite boku and childish/cutesy onii-chan, and the boku was prominently used as a plot point to hint at Takeru’s identity as the series narrator. (Yes, these kinds of things are actually kind of a big deal in fiction.) Since even longtime fans generally agree that at some point Takeru would be likely to stop using onii-chan once he became old enough, the stage play likewise also prefers aniki over onii-chan, but, notably, it doesn’t even bother with ore in the slightest nor any of the implications that surround it, and Takeru comfortably uses boku for the entirety of the play. Considering that the use of aniki is still a bit unusual (both Diablomon Strikes Back and Kizuna prominently favor the slightly more polite nii-san instead), it seems that the play was made with an awareness that both aspects of Takeru’s language had changed, but a conscious decision to hold over only one from the anime.

And so on and so forth.

In general, the way you could describe this play’s handling of Adventure universe lore and characterization elements is that it’s a bit selective about which tri.-related elements it makes use of, particularly in regards to ones that might be too difficult to reconcile with the original Adventure (and 02). (This is basically the same attitude Kizuna roughly takes in regards to handling of tri. elements, although it’s less noticeable there partially because of the five-year gap between tri. and Kizuna.) Obviously, being completely incongruous with the tri. anime would be a pretty crude thing to do for a play that’s actually branded with it (and especially when said anime was still ongoing at the time, regardless of public opinion), but, regardless, the end result is that its actual relationship with the tri. anime’s version of canon is a bit tenuous.

The main reason for this is probably that, on the flip side, the stage play's references to Adventure -- as in, the specific series that aired in 1999-2000 and took place in the in-universe August 1 and 3, 1999 -- are incredibly aggressive. In fact, it’s actually far more aggressive in this respect than Kizuna is. For all Kizuna is branded as an Adventure movie and puts the original Adventure cast first and foremost in all of the advertising, if you watch the actual movie, in practice, it’s more of something that lies in the gap between Adventure and 02 and the two series together as a whole. Adventure was a series that practically revolved around a "trapped in another world" story and the specific impact its events had on the kids involved, but Kizuna focuses more on the “larger world”, including real world society (very much 02 things), with a lot of themes with suspicious pertinence to 02 and references to its epilogue looming over the plot; the specific Adventure references and even the Digital World don’t come into play until the climax. (And that’s before we get into the fact that the 02 quartet gets more screentime than a good chunk of their seniors.) Really, you can see it just by the fact that a majority of the primary key visuals line the 02 quartet up with everyone else; it’s a movie about both, not just Adventure.

So in other words, Kizuna is really about mixing Adventure and 02 elements, serving as a sort of stopgap work, and recasting the Adventure group in a lot of 02′s context. (And that’s by no means a bad thing; since Adventure wasn’t about that, the differing juxtaposition is a fresh perspective in its own way.) But in terms of revisiting what the actual series called Digimon Adventure was and how those events might have an influence on its relevant cast years later, this play (which actually has longer runtime than Kizuna, being around two hours) is a good place to go to if that’s what you’re looking for. The entire premise of the play revolves around copiously referencing that specific adventure back in 1999, and, more importantly, what impact it’s still continuing to have in this particular group’s memories, to the point where they’re starting to romanticize it and wish they could return to it forever...

Ah, right, that’s what this play has in common with Kizuna: the overall theme of unhealthy fixation on rose-colored nostalgia, and the need to move forward from it. (And, driving it home, “unhealthy fixation on the events of Adventure” as a symbol of that rose-colored nostalgia, to boot.)

The premise of the play itself is that the kids decide to hold a camping trip as tribute to the adventure in 1999, as part of a desire to "go back to those times" (and, as is eventually revealed, it’s actually part of a pocket universe their subconscious wishes had dreamed up as a desire to recreate the past, thanks to the power of the Digital World). So all of the references to Adventure are concrete and fleshed out in specific detail, ranging from everyone referencing specific events and how they impacted them (Jou very explicitly refers to his experiences in Adventure episodes 46-47 in terms of why it fuels his current desire to become a doctor) to even the most minor of references (direct reference to bananas on File Island, from Adventure episode 3).

As a brief aside, a positive side effect of centering the plot on this specific adventure is that it justifies the reason for why these eight are working together (at least prior to the endgame reveal that they’re still involved in tri.’s events); the eight of them weren’t portrayed as liable to do so without good reason, and while certain aspects and events from 02 are alluded to when they’re relevant, the absence of the actual quartet passing without note is completely justifiable because they simply were not on that adventure anyway. (They weren’t initially planned to be at the event in 02 episode 17, and knowing them, it’s likely they wouldn’t want to be at this kind of outright commemorative camping event, because they’d feel like they’d be intrusive in something they had nothing to do with.) So within the scope of the play in two hours, the narrative can be very neatly condensed to be mostly about Adventure itself.

Although this play and Kizuna both share the common theme of the existential crisis that comes with getting older and the tendency to romanticize one’s childhood, the underlying reasons are a bit different; Kizuna’s is very close to 02 in that it’s largely to do with societal pressures and expectations, especially since the question of "what you want to do with your career" is a driving motivation in it. In other words, the existential crisis comes from living up to other people’s expectations, or trying to fit into an arbitrary societal mold of an “adult” without necessarily knowing if that’s what you really want. In the case of this stage play, being set in everyone’s high school years where everyone’s relationship to “the world at large” is a bit more tenuous, the reason for the existential crisis is somewhat closer to Adventure’s: everyone’s started to think they might have been better people back then. More confident, less hesitant, more honest with their feelings. Adventure was a series about self-improvement and one’s relationship with oneself, so it’s understandable that a work meant to look back on that specific adventure will ask the question “well, did they become better people after all?” as a result.

But there’s two problems with this line of thinking: one, this is a very rose-colored evaluation of their former selves, because just because they might have been “more confident” back then doesn’t mean they didn’t have other problems going on (Hikari calls her past self out for being arguably “more honest”, but also somewhat of a dependent child), and two, being more hesitant doesn’t make one a weaker person, just one who’s dealing with a lot more problems and awareness and things to worry about because of how much the scope of their lives has increased. As Agumon says at the end, the old Taichi and the current Taichi are still the same person; it’s just that he’s dealing with more, so he’ll naturally worry about more, and taking on those extra burdens is actually his own way of “evolving”.

Particularly interesting is the position of Jou, the not-so-unsung hero of this story, who is explicitly identified as the person most clearly aware of his future dreams and proceeding without hesitation towards them, to the point of being somewhat immune to the effects of the dream world. (Somewhat, mainly because the ending establishes that he wasn’t entirely.) It's consistent in line with the fact that we actually saw, directly, the train of thought that led to his decision to become a doctor back in Adventure, and he even states it directly in this play himself: he doesn’t consider himself someone who wants to solve things through fighting, but rather someone who can prevent casualties and heal the injured if he pursues this line of study, and thus is determined to make it happen. Even from the very early points of the play, there are several hints at him being able to see a metaphorical “future” that the others cannot, and while he remains unfailingly loyal to his friends (there’s a long sequence of him constantly claiming he’ll leave them as per Koushirou’s request but constantly coming back because he just can’t bring himself to abandon them), he also is the first one to depart the camping trip to attend to a test -- that is to say, he treasures his past, but he has a strong enough dream for his future that he’s willing to move on better than the others can.

Jou’s also the one to personally advise Yamato about the difference in nuance between doing things because you feel you must, versus doing it because you yourself truly want to, a difference in nuance that also becomes very pertinent in Kizuna. Also pertinent to both works in common is the discussion of nuances between “staying trapped in one’s memories” and “violently cutting them all away” (the consequences of the latter being more extensively discussed in Kizuna), versus the ideal situation of reflecting on those memories and experiences from the past in order to productively move forward.

And in the end, rose-colored nostalgia is, indeed, rose-colored nostalgia. Because, sure, that adventure back in the day was great, and they grew a lot, but they also grew a lot because they were overcoming some very harsh, difficult troubles; omitting those parts is losing the substance. The re-invocation of the fun “camping trip” also means re-invoking all of the other things that came along with it, including all of the dangerous threats they’d faced back then. It’s a package deal, and you can’t just filter those out, because it misses the point of what you gained out of it in the first place.

In general, the character writing for this play is also very good; there are some differences between the characters here and them back in 02, but they’re all within the believable scope of positive progression within three years and general adherence to core tenets of their character (Koushirou is certainly more assertive, but emphasis continues to be placed on his deference to others, penchant for spotting details, and capability for being an organizational leader in his own sense). Also notably, this play manages to verbalize a lot of the subtleties in Adventure and 02 that the mainstream tends to gloss over (and don’t tend to get put in official profiles) but are well-known to those deeply familiar with the series. This is the kind of attention to detail usually associated with those who have been studying the series for years, so it’s refreshing to see these come out in words -- for instance, Koushirou stating outright that he was one of the closest people to Taichi for a long time (very true!), Hikari and Takeru actually commenting on each other from back in Adventure (something we never really got in 02, despite “them having known each other for a while” being part of their character arcs), and Sora explicitly admitting that she goes out of her way for others because it’s easier to work for others than it is to even think about herself.

Actually, the attention to detail in general is fantastic; other than a minor slip-up (Sora refers to having met Koushirou during the summer camp at the beginning of the play when she’d actually known him prior from the soccer club, a detail that’s very easy to miss because it’s only mentioned once in Adventure episode 16 and clarified further in the novels), a lot of things from Adventure and 02 are made use of and framed in very clever context; the choice of Etemon as the enemy for this play is well-placed for both his entertainment value and the fact that, as an enemy personally defeated by MetalGreymon in Adventure episode 20, it makes perfect sense that he would have a grudge against Taichi in particular. (It’s also explicitly mentioned that Hikari and Tailmon never met Etemon in person even once, and that Taichi never actually got to see MetalEtemon, so there’s a lot of attention paid to logistics like that.)

Also, while 02 is not really brought up within the scope of the story (and really shouldn’t be, not when this story so heavily centers around Adventure and its themes), its place in canon and its contributions to the worldbuilding are fully respected; a lot of the offhand references to family situations and background are elements that were originally introduced in 02, and many aspects of its Digital World lore are used to assist the plot premise (in particular, the idea of the Digital World being connected to something that can conjure up unconscious dreams wasn’t explicitly invoked until 02). Rather amusingly, at one point, Hikari uses the events of 02 episode 13 to tell a “scary story” to troll Mimi, and it’s interesting and rather refreshing to see the implication that Hikari’s been able to move past the incident enough to use it to troll someone else. There are also some latent epilogue references as well, with Hikari directly bringing up her goal of becoming a kindergarten teacher, Takeru making some really subtle references to wanting to be a novelist and chronicle their adventures (in true Takeru fashion, he never states it outright, but anyone familiar with the epilogue can figure it out), and Taichi alluding to an ultimate goal of humans coexisting alongside Digimon.

Finally, attention should be called to the play’s relationship writing in general. As stated before, the play does call attention to relationships between characters that often don’t get brought up by the mainstream but are somewhat more well-known to fans -- Koushirou and Taichi, Sora and Mimi, Jou and Yamato -- but even the well-known ones are treated with nuance endemic to that from Adventure and especially 02, given that Taichi and Yamato don’t actually have the stereotypical “cold rivals” atmosphere that shounen anime would usually suggest, and the two of them have an extended heart-to-heart in which Yamato actively tries to figure out what’s wrong with Taichi and treat him kindly. (Like in Adventure, the only time they break out in a fight is when Yamato gets emotionally compromised and starts worrying that Taichi isn’t doing enough for others’ welfare.) It’s also very consistent with how the two treat each other in Kizuna as well (the izakaya scene comes to mind, and has a lot of similarities to the awkward-but-ultimately-close conversation they have at night in this play).

And, of course, the centerpiece of the narrative overall: the human-partner relationship. Of course, a lot of this was probably helped by Seki lecturing Tani to not mess this part up, but it really is impressive to consider in light of the fact we’re working with a lot of puppets that have handlers clearly in plain view, so you have to have some massive suspension of disbelief to make this work. But not only are the movements well-done to make it convincing that you really are seeing these actors physically interacting with their partners on stage, the narrative also puts huge spotlights on them, making the Digimon outright be the ones to snap their partners out of their worst patterns of thinking (especially with Agumon and Taichi), and dedicating a long period of silence where literal stage spotlights are dedicated to each kid having some alone time with their partner. The intimacy is very convincing, and, truly, Tani’s insistence on making sure every single one of the main Digimon was represented in spite of the prohibitive budget paid off very well. The point is made: a Digimon partner has to be someone who knows you well and intimately and can call you out at your worst moments, and Taichi even spells it out: Agumon’s capable of seeing right through him.

Putting it next to Kizuna -- a movie dedicated entirely to examining the meaning of a partner relationship, what happens when it deteriorates, what that means for oneself, and what it takes to recover it again -- it’s perhaps unsurprising that this play ends on the same line that was used in all of Kizuna’s advertising and was central to its own plot: “We’ll always be together.”

#digimon #tri stage play #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #shihameta

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hellreads · 3 years

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Hello, I just stumble on your blog. Seeing a comment from Wrienne which I also read on AO3, I wanted to ask if you also have AO3 recs..?

hi there darling, of course, I have some recs for you! since you didn’t ask for anything specific let me just share a few faves that you could only read/access on ao3 (I would also recommend you check my ficshelfs and use the ao3 filter to find stories exclusively posted there + i’ll still include wrienne’s works for other readers :3 ) | 🍒

OT7/MULTIPLE MEMBERS

❥ Right of Way by fringesofsanity ➴ Infidelity!AU | Jungkook x Reader x Jimin | Series ➴ In theory, things were simple: your best friend was Jungkook’s girlfriend while your boyfriend, Jimin, was Jungkook’s best friend. In reality, things weren’t always that simple. And mutually exclusive.

❥ The Hills by minlouvre ➴ Vacation/Exes!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Hoseok | Series ➴ A ski trip with old friends sounds like a fun time, right?

when your ex-boyfriend (who you hate but somehow always end up in bed with) and your stepbrother (who you are harboring not-so-secret feelings for) tag along at the last minute, you have a feeling it won’t be an uneventful weekend.

but fun? debatable. that remains to be seen. ❥ A Hundred Percent Human by Wrienne ➴ Hybrid!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series ➴ In which you (reader) are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate.

After your estranged mother passes away, you're left with an unwanted will and the heavy burden of responsibility. Although you're desperate not to stray from the familiar path you thought was laid out in front of you with a fully human boyfriend who loves you more than anything, your life is thrown upside down once more after another unfortunate incident (that may or may not have to do with said boyfriend) occurs.

Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of.

❥ Dead Leaves by Wrienne ➴ Detective/Exes!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Jimin | Series ➴ In which you (reader) are a homicide detective about to face the biggest hurdle both of your career and life.

Married to probably the kindest but most boring man you’ve ever met and living in a town where nothing ever seems to happen means life for you is dull. Dull enough to drive you crazy with boredom and dissatisfaction. However, life changes abruptly when your old boss retires and a new man takes his place - a man you used to love (and sleep very regularly with) more than a decade ago. Especially when your husband comes home smelling of perfume, you’re unable to resist your more carnal urges and dead women start showing up across the city with unnerving frequency. ❥ See Both Sides Like Chanel by minlouvre ➴ FWB/Rich Kids!AU | Namjoon x Reader x Hoseok | One-Shot ➴ You, Namjoon, and Hoseok are inseparable.

Three best friends that grew up together since you were all in diapers.But lately, Namjoon has been drifting away…

So on his birthday, you and Hoseok remind him just how inseparable the three of you really are.

⤷ or alternatively: a little less twenty-one candles, a little more “touch me”

❥ Love Is A Dog From Hell by yourlocalhoney ➴ FWB/Lovers!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook | Series ➴ You and Yoongi agreed on being good friends, co-workers, and friends who help each other out under the sheets. What you never agreed on was to catch feelings for each other.

Enter, accidental feelings.

Enter, Jeon Jungkook.

❥ The Uncanny by Sinsirella ➴ Arranged Marriage!AU | Jungkook x Reader x Seokjin x Jimin | Series ➴ (Y/N) is a young girl whose Life turns upside down. One day her mother surprises her with news of her arranged husband, forcing her into her new chaotic lifestyle. Join her journey and experience her new life through her eyes. Will she get along with her husband? Or someone else? What are they hiding? ❥ Seven Deadly Sins by mintedmango ➴ Hell!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series ➴ You stood suddenly, chair being pushed away by the backs of your legs, the rest of the sins standing with you as you looked around in panic. All except Sloth who was out cold in the corner.

“Oh, little pet, indeed, I am still hungry.”

❥ Walk Through The Fire by shellflower ➴ Supernatural!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | Series ➴ In a world of supernatural beings, a normal human like yourself always found attraction and wonder towards these creatures. It was your kind heart that led you to become a doctor to treat such people. And it was your kind heart that led you into the arms of a young Alpha wolf who will accidentally force you down a path you were never meant to follow... ❥ Into Temptation by coconutty ➴ Demon!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | Two-Shot ➴ It was just a dare...

❥ Won’t Be Nice by coconutty ➴ Lovers/Poly!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Hoseok | One-Shot ➴ A night by the pool just got interesting...

KIM NAMJOON

❥ Covenant by fringesofsanity ➴ Arranged Marriage!AU | Namjoon x Reader | Series ➴ You are betrothed to Kim Namjoon, the heir of a real estate mogul. To say that it was a fairytale romance would be erroneous. You’re instead loped in the sad tale of the rich and melancholy.

❥ Read You Like A Book by coconutty ➴ University!AU | Namjoon x Reader | One-Shot ➴ Come get an attitude adjustment in the library, courtesy of Namjoon.

KIM SEOKJIN

❥ Éffleurer by @sugaurora / sugalights ➴ Office!AU | Seokjin x Reader | Series ➴ There were always whispers in your office about what secrets Seokjin hid behind his clean image. Now, you knew at least one of them. ❥ The City Comes Alive by minlouvre ➴ Musician/S2L!AU | Seokjin x Reader | Series ➴ Seokjin is a street performer who falls for a girl who is always passing him by. ❥ Seaside Sabbatical by dark_muse_iris ➴ Working Man!AU | Seokjin x Reader | One-Shot ➴ After an accountant in your firm is sent to prison, you are assigned to clean up the mess he left behind. Sorting out your clients’ disastrous business records proves beneficial when you meet the fisherman who teaches you the value of taking a break. ❥ Cake by yeyeniejjung ➴ Yandere/Killer!AU | Seokjin x Reader | Series ➴ "I was always hungry for your love. Just once, I wanted to know what is was like to get my fill of it. I wanted to be fed so much love that I couldn't take it anymore, just once." ❥ The Lord Taketh Away by dark_muse_iris ➴ Medieval/Werewolf!AU | Seokjin x Reader | One-Shot ➴ Every autumn, the dwindling harvest summons fears for the impending winter and its promise of scarcity. For Seokjin and his wife, faith lies in God and their local lord’s generosity to provide what their ailing son needs to survive another year. With each season, however, the lord grows cold-hearted and greedy, squeezing the young family to the brink of despair.

MIN YOONGI

❥ Zelus by SugaAconcept ➴ Lovers/Sugar Daddy!AU | Yoongi x Reader | One-Shot ➴ Yoongi becomes jealous when your close friend Jungkook puts his hands all over you right infront of his face. So, Yoongi decides to make sure you know who you really belong to. ❥ Carpe Diem by fringesofsanity ➴ Idol/Lovers!AU | Yoongi x Reader | Series ➴ Working for the UN, you are tasked to handle the poverty reduction campaign of a certain boy band. A certain rapper from the group however decides to mix business with pleasure.

JUNG HOSEOK

❥ Feel You From The Inside by coconutty ➴ Idol/Staff!AU | Hoseok x Reader | One-Shot ➴ You've been watching him for months, little did you know, he's been watching you.

❥ As You Are by fringesofsanity ➴ Lovers!AU | Hoseok x Reader | One-Shot ➴ You're not the girl for Jung Hoseok. Him - who was sunshine and daisies and fireworks. You - who were back-alley darkness and used needles and burnt cigarettes. But he doesn't care. And you fucking hate yourself for it.

❥ The Thin Blue Line by bluesxde ➴ Pregnancy/E2L!AU | Hoseok x Reader | Series ➴ One badly-judged fling with Jung Hoseok, the son of a company-rival, leaves you with a little surprise.

PARK JIMIN

❥ His Throne by hseoks ➴ Royalty!AU | Jimin x Reader | Series ➴ You, a maid for the royal family, have sex with the irresistible Prince Park Jimin on his throne.

❥ Ineffable by fringesofsanity ➴ FWB!AU | Jimin x Reader | One-Shot ➴ You’ve only shared your body to Jimin, mostly silent after the act. The one time you decide to bare so much more, you find yourself baring your soul to him, far more than you bargained for.

❥ Blue Side by hoseokiehopie ➴ Ghost/Lovers!AU | Jimin x Reader | One-Shot ➴ You’re all too familiar with the legend that says the dead can walk freely on Halloween. It’s a secret you hold deeply within yourself. When a classmate starts to break down the walls you built so strongly after your boyfriend’s passing, you have to decide if you’re going to remain in the past with the dead, or live among the living.

KIM TAEHYUNG

❥ Effervescence by fringesofsanity ➴ Idol/Fling!AU | Taehyung x Reader | Series ➴ Just like the fizz of a cola on a hot summer’s day, your encounter with Taehyung is short but sparkly sweet.

OR Getting married in three months, you and your girls attend Ultra Miami to cap your single life, a final hurrah of some sort. What you didn’t expect is meeting a beguiling boy with a boxy smile who gives you a festival you’ll forever reminisce.

❥ Minutiae by coconutty ➴ Stalker!AU | Taehyung x Reader | Series ➴ Y/N meets a mysterious and alluring photographer and wants to interview him. Along the way things start getting a bit strange. What happens when you draw the attention of someone who always gets what they want?

❥ Flower Arrangements by iq_biased ➴ Pregnancy/Lovers!AU | Taehyung x Reader | One-Shot ➴ From the moment you met Taehyung, his flourish for life drew you in completely. It wasn’t long before you fell head over heals for the tattoo artist who was so wrong for you, it felt right. But your story hasn’t always been an easy one, and just recently it’s become a whole lot more complicated…

❥ Freaks Forever by yeyeniejjung ➴ Criminal/Psych!AU | Taehyung x Reader | Series ➴ "So tell me, Mister Kim, what's your ideal evening?"

"Ah..full moon, sex and drugs all night."

You are the psychologist to the world's most dangerous criminal, Kim Taehyung. Kim Taehyung is the man solely responsible for some of the most horrific crimes that the world has ever seen, from burglary, drug possession, sexual assaults, to brutal homicides of a total of 37 victims, though there are suspicions that there are more, that range from children to the elderly; both male and female. The two of you form an odd bond between your weekly sessions, causing you to somehow completely miss his blatant manipulation that soon controlled you in every aspect; resulting in his escape from prison and his bloodthirsty ways and eyes to be immediately turned onto you..but will he spare you in the end of the torturous time he keeps you or will your fate be the same as any other past victim of his?

❥ Slow Burn by fringesofsanity ➴ Idol/F2L!AU | Taehyung x Reader | Series ➴ He was just supposed to be one of those clients. But then he gives you a night you’ll never forget. ❥ Noona by yuu14045 ➴ Neighbors/Lovers!AU | Taehyung x Reader | Series ➴ Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin lives in same apartment building. One day Taehyung received a mail for another Kim. She turned out to be Jimin's new neighbor.

❥ Snapped by Kpopyandere ➴ Yandere!AU | Taehyung x Reader | Series ➴ Your relationship with your boyfriend hasn't been going well lately. His twin, Kim Taehyung, decides to take advantage of this.

JEON JUNGKOOK

❥ If You’re Struggling Like I Am by @btssavedmylifeblr / bts_ruined_my_life ➴ Idol/Lovers!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series ➴ You are hired as a makeup artist for BigHit working with BTS. You are older than all of them, yet, despite your best efforts, you find yourself slowing falling in love with the youngest member.

❥ My Cheating Amnesic Fiancé by Wrienne ➴ Idol/Arranged Marriage!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series ➴ A series set in our world featuring Reader, the sole heiress of a multibillion-dollar company, and the Bangtan Boys' Golden Maknae - Jeon Jungkook. Mainly a romance, though doused with angst, drama and the twisted ways of fate. ❥ Return by Kpopyandere ➴ Yandere!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series ➴ As Seokjin's girlfriend, you're off-limits, but Jungkook doesn't see it that way

#answered #tete-a-tete #anon #recs from hell #rfh:ot7 #rfh:knj #rfh:ksj #rfh:myg #rfh:jhs #rfh:pjm #rfh:kth #rfh:jjk #i have more but i don't have the time to browse through my phone maybe i'll share them another day someday sjagfhjgashdfjkas

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1ddotdhq · 4 years

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🖕Mon Sept 28 ‘20 👓

First things first: see ya Psycho! Music Week published an article confirming Syco’s “low-key” demise. Music Week tells us two interesting things - the first is that “artists from [Cowell’s] TV show will now be free to sign to any label, with Sony no longer enjoying first refusal”. The second interesting tidbit is that “all Syco Music employees and artists have now either been redeployed within Sony Music, or have left the company”. Happy days!

More like busy days - for Harry, at least! He was seen yesterday evening in LA, taking pictures with a fan. He was wearing a mask (sexy) and a mini hair clip (less sexy, but adorable nonetheless). We can take this as an indication that pre-production for Don’t Worry Darling is likely underway, and as he’s the lead male role (!!!!!!), he has RESPONSIBILITIES and so he had to be there before the day of the actual shoot. Your intern spent a few hours reading up on film set guidelines, so I’m going to tell you that at some point between the UK, Italy, the UK again, and LA, Harry got himself screened and tested negative for COVID, as is mandatory to do before entering a film set. These sets are closed, and any visitors must also undergo screenings, as far as I could tell. Anyways, hopefully that keeps him safe and busy for the next few months!

His Grammy campaign is ALSO underway, as his team told Music Week that they’ve “got a few more things up [their sleeve] for the rest of the year, but [we’ll] have to wait and see”. Is it the Golden video? I bet it’s the Golden video. Some more information about Harry’s accessories also became available to the public today: his custom vampire wife blue HS bag was VERY custom-made, apparently, as he specifically requested that color blue for his initials (the letters are normally done in a ~golden~ thread, which makes it funner, imo). In case you’re curious - it IS the same color as his Light’s Up costume, the Vespa, the room that Falling was shot in, and on and on and on. He does seem to rather have a fascination with that color, doesn’t he? Almost like...he gets so lost inside it? Can you believe it??

Hahaha okay moving on: Zayn ALSO keeps on keepin’ on to make Z3 a more tangible reality: he registered two new songs today: “Different” and “Look At Me Now”. And even #better (last time, I promise haha) - “Better” was featured on Amazon Music’s “song of the day”! I have to hear the songs before I say anything about it, but I do sort of hope that things will be “Different” this time around - “Better” - and that he’s telling us “Look At Me Now”. To use twitter terminology, I’m manifesting good things for him.

Liam had a feature in Esquire Mexico, where they talked about his early aspirations as an Olympic runner changing into his decision to give up running to focus on music. I wish they had talked about this a bit more, because I can’t expect that was an easy decision, but also, he would have been around 14 when he made it. That’s a BIG responsibility for a kid, and I want to hear how he felt about it then, and how he feels about it now, some thirteen years on. About his music career, he says: “The effort is what really counts. Having tried it was fundamental, but also understanding that if it didn’t work, it just wasn’t for me”. He does, however, attribute his success to his obsessive attitude (hmmm). At any rate, you’re a JOY to have around, Liam, so I’m glad it DID work out!

The feature also came with PICTURES, of course, in which he looks better than anyone reasonably has a right to - I have to keep reminding myself that if I want to stay impartial, I can’t be attracted to any of them, but DAMN did Liam test my resolve in these! They had him in glasses and a knitted hoodie/jumper/sweater thing holding a guitar on the cover photo. There are other pictures in which he’s wearing half undone button up shirts and too cool for school shades and looking moodily off into the distance (while holding his guitar) and a few where he’s looking pensively down in a blue paisley shirt and glasses (whew!). I think it’s the glasses that killed me, tbh, but go check them out, because I’m certainly not doing them justice!

In some sunny news, Free My Meal popped up again to thank Louis for raising awareness for their cause, calling him a legend (we been knew, but it’s nice to see!) and using hashtags like “#noshame” and “#justask”, and I have to say - sometimes, you would be surprised at how kind people can be if you ask. ALSO, I am bringing this charity up literally ANY TIME I have the opportunity to, because I think it is doing phenomenal work, and I wish there were more programs like this one.

I also have a little bit of a Clown Car update for you: yesterday, Nick Gordon posted a “#theysaidyes” picture, featuring both Briana and Freddie, and captioning with a quote from...wait for it...When Harry Met Sally!!! He then went on a comment reading spree, liking such comments as “Although you are not the real father, you will be the best father, believe me” and “*** **”. I...am actually speechless, which never happens to me. AND THEN! Briana followed and account called “thepropertybrokers” which is an “Investment Property Specialist” account in Beverly Hills. Are you...going somewhere, girl? Don’t be shy, *** **.

And, hmmm, let me think - what day is it? Oh, yeah, the 28th, I almost forgot! You know who DIDN'T? Paul Higgins, former One Direction bodyguard and bona fide Tour Dad, who went around Instagram liking “Happy Anniversary, Harry and Louis!” posts, including my favorite, which was captioned: “Happy 7th anniversary love birds! 28th September 2013 - it’s so great to see how two beautiful friends finally did it!...”. Yeah, guys, nothing to see here, they’re just celebrating 7 years of a beautiful and committed BROMANCE, doncha know?

#harry styles #zayn malik #liam payne #louis tomlinson #the clown car #briana #nick gordon #also you can now buy Harry's daffodil necklace on Eliou's website #they're calling it the Harry Necklace but tbh i like my name better #idk if anyone else cares about the filming guidelines in LA but i spent a ton of time reading about it so here you lol #*here you go lol #ngl I’m a little disappointed about no new Louis merch but it’s probably the best thing for my bank account #song of the day!#Waking in the Dark by Only the Poets #yup thats it from me today i think thats more than enough #hahaha

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cienie-isengardu · 3 years

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The Development of Law and Zoro relationship: Wano, ...and Law Is Not Happy About That

<Part I: Before Meeting>> <<Part II: Sabaody Archipelago, The First Meeting>> <<Part III: Punk Hazard: The Alliance (A)__(B)>> <<Part IV: Dressrosa, The Breaking Point (The Plan Failed)__ (Saving Law)__(Protecting Law)__ (Birdcage, Pica and Doflamingo)__ (Aftermath)>> <<Part V: Zou, The Kindred Spirits (Traveling Together)__(Searching for Nakama)__ (Reunion)__ (Ninja-Pirate-Mink-Samurai Alliance)__(The Last Moments before War)>> Part VI: Wano, Against Emperors (The Untold Journey)__(Luffy & Zoro Means Troubles…)__(…and Law Is Not Happy About That)

The fight between Law and Hawkins was stopped; Law didn’t manage to eliminate the enemy nor prevent information leakage about alliance presence in Wano. He almost was run over by a speeding cart with stolen food (another “crime” against Orochi & Kaido, which Straw Hats committed in his absence). No wonder why Law was so pissed of at Zoro (chapter 918):

➽ Up to this point, Law never have been so openly angry at Roronoa, nor aggressive toward the other man. Now, Law vented all frustration and anger while Zoro kept silent… and maybe felt some embarrassment(?) about Trafalgar’s unusual outburst, considering bubble speech with three dots and “sweat drop” expressing Zoro’s reaction in a more visible way.

➽ Another interesting detail is how calmly Zoro endured Law’s angry rant. He simply let the other man scream at him, and even tolerated grabbing his kimono and invading his personal space. When it comes to scolding, Zoro reacts differently, depending on the seriousness of the situation and who is scolding him. He either fights back in such situations or doesn’t respond to angry rants and taunts. For example, if Sanji started screaming and pointing his faults, Zoro most likely wouldn’t be so tolerable because those two like to antagonize each other. Seems like Roronoa opted for the calm approach with Law. Maybe Zoro knew that Law was right and his anger was justified. Maybe he simply figured it will be better if Law got all the anger and stress out of him. Or maybe he was just taken by surprise by the sudden outburst?

↪ In all fairness, I think he perfectly knew what Law’s reaction will be, especially considering this ambiguous frame:

At first it seems like Zoro talked about Kinemon, what honestly would make perfect sense. He already mentioned Kinemon when repeated samurai’s warning to Luffy but couldn’t really say his name in front of just met Kiku. At the same time, he could also talk about Law, because at this point he was familiar enough with the man to predict his angry reaction. Law seems to be prone to stress and he likes planning everything ahead and Zoro not sticking to plan (letting Luffy smash enemy) would definitely earn Law’s ire. Righteous so. Then what was the point of arguing with Trafalgar? Even more, when the man, despite stress and rage, doesn't hold on such emotions for too long. Which really seems like the best way to deal with a pissed off Heart Captain was just let him scream until he cooled down and adapted to the new situation.

➽ Because Zoro did not stop Luffy as he should - as Law hoped he would - Trafalgar was blaming Zoro for the whole situation, even though Luffy was as much guilty, charging into unknown without care for consequences. Zoro not once tried to excuse himself or Luffy, did nothing to stop Law’s outburst nor remind Law he wasn’t his captain (superior) thus he wasn’t obligated to listen. He simply let Law scream and blame him for the mess.

Anime expended this moment by actually giving Zoro a chance to explain to Law why he screwed so badly. Which literally was “I met Luffy” what immediately refocused Trafalgar’s anger from Zoro to solely Luffy:

This extended scene fits well with already existing Law’s personal experience from Dressrosa - the usually stoic and reliable Zoro will throw away rational thinking in the favor of Luffy’s whim and craziness. Monkey D. Luffy has that kind of effect on Roronoa.

Also, another funny thing anime did with that scene is when Law was scolding his fellow Supernova, Zoro was maintaining eye contact.

But when he was saying “sorry”, he was clearly looking to his left, instead at Law. Which makes the apology feeling insincere. Zoro wasn’t really that sorry about the mess but he said it, most likely to placate angry (stressed??) Law. Seems like Roronoa is bad at lying; not on Luffy’s level of bad, but still not really into telling lies.

Law most likely could tell Pirate Hunter wasn’t sorry at all, which explains grabbing Zoro’s kimono and screaming more at the other man’s face.

➽ Zoro’s patience and lack of response makes an interesting contrast to Law’s unusual aggressiveness. We may only wonder if Roronoa already had some experiences with such an outburst from the other Supernova. Once again, there is little to no information how their relationship was affected by the journey and situation in Wano, nor why Zoro was so indifferent while Law’s level of stress so high.

➽ Manga and anime versions of the scene give us valuable informations. One: Law was aware that Zoro promised to not cause trouble, like not fighting with samurais and Kaido’s men. That of course was a rational thing to ask of Zoro, because the man is too bloodthirsty for his own good and is always up for a good fight. The manga translation makes it look like Law personally witnessed Pirate Hunter swearing to not cause any trouble. Yet Law’s screaming sounds a bit confusing. On one hand, he knew Zoro A) became a wanted man and B) was supposed to be in Flower Capital. So it seems Law was informed about Zoro’s mission of pretending to be ronin. Whatever Kinemon initiated him from the start or after the wanted poster was made public, Law understood the danger of drawing the enemy's attention to the alliance. Which may be the reason why he was so mad at Zoro and referred to him by surname or called in his mind an idiot. On another, asking Zoro - a wanted man - why didn’t he stay in capital sounds, well, kinda stupid (and interestingly, the additional symbol of irritation was added to this specific question / bubble). Roronoa killed in broad daylight an important person (magistrate), and either killed or injured the magistrate's samurais, so it is not like Zoro could wander through the capital or any city without causing more problems. Of course, wandering directless did not help the alliance at all but it was still the best outcome. As a wanted man, Zoro could either stay in capitol and draw enemy’s attention to himself - and in result, endanger Franky, Robin and Usopp’s missions and even alliance’s presence in the Wano or wander through the wasteland in which was easier avoid unnecessary troubles and, in case of fight, hide dead bodies without increasing the vigilance of Beast Pirates or Orochi’s samurais. As a wanted man, Roronoa wasn’t really in position to come back to Kinemon because of possible pursuit - though he managed to wander into Kuri region, but that is more lack of direction sense than anything intentional, I guess. Unless this is why Law was the most angry? That Zoro came too close to their main secret base of operation? Anyway, Trafalgar for sure did not hold back and vented all his anger and frustration at still passive Zoro.

Soon, the group made it into Okobore Town and gave the stolen food to starving locals while Luffy brought the fresh water with himself. Straw Hat told the happy people “I’m Luffytaro! If anyone asks, you tell ‘em my name!” (chapter 918). For the first time Luffy also noticed Law - now much calmer than a moment ago. Law made clear, that what Luffy and Zoro did was ultimately an act of rebellion against Wano (Orochi and Kaido) to which Luffy responded he was “repaying the favor” to Tama, who fed him, once again getting into additional trouble just because someone gave him free food. The serious note disappeared right away, when Luffy started screaming at the starving people to not eat all meat without him:

➽ The meeting between Luffy and Law is drastically different from meeting of Law and Zoro. Like was mentioned, Trafalgar didn’t show any anger or frustration, so either screaming at Zoro calmed him down or he already gave up trying to reason with Monkey D. Luffy. Taking into account all previous adventures from Punk Hazard to Zou, what in universe happened through what? One or two months at best? Law’s resignation makes sense. Luffy wouldn’t care nor bother to apologize for the pulled stunt, while Zoro, well, didn’t care much either, but at least didn’t try to argue back.

➽ Once the serious talk was done and Luffy literally jumped after the meat, Zoro and Law shared the same reaction (visualed by bubble speech with three dots, though the “sweat drop” symbolising embarrassment(?) is only on Zoro’s part). Despite the previous intense moment, both men were again on good terms and even in agreement toward Luffy’s idiotic/childish behaviour.

The next time we see Zoro, Law and Luffy, Trafalgar kept his distance from everyone else. He stood the closest to Luffy yet with back turned to him. Was that sort of ostentatious expression of dissatisfaction or did he keep watch in case of an enemy's attack, hard to tell.

Luffy loudly declared his intention about Wano to Tama (“By the time we leave this country, it’ll be a place where you can eat as much as you want, every single day!!!”). With a sigh, Zoro noted how because of Luffy’s action, the enemy will come after them for real. Law did not take such a comment from Zoro kindly, because the man ignored(?) his own part in the mess.

➽ Surprisingly, Law still was angry more at Zoro than Luffy, who was the main culprit. But it may be just Zoro’s uncaring attitude that provokes Law so much.

➽ Despite the still fresh feeling of irritation, Law decided to focus at the best course of action - moving on to safest place. In this case, to the ruins of Oden’s Castle, in which Kinemon and the rest of the alliance stayed in hiding.

The group said goodbye to Tama who was taken to home by Horselina (a former enemy-turned-into-her-loyal-servant thanks to Tama’s devil fruit powers). Like always, Law kept his distance from others (in manga on one frame, he kept close to Zoro, on another, to Luffy). In anime, between sharing food and saying goodbye to Tama, Trafalgar was shown usually close to Zoro, similar like he did on Zou:

At this point, there is something to ponder a bit about Law and his (lack of) interaction with people. Like in the scene above, does Law keep close to Zoro (or Luffy) because of their bond (trust?) alone or is that partially due to his minimal social skills? As in, he keeps close to people he at least knows and doesn’t make contact with strangers unless it’s necessary. Zoro and Law both have some asocial traits (seen especially in their tendency to isolating themselves from too large group), but in contrast, Zoro and Luffy were shown through the Wano arc to interact and even befriend the local people while Trafalgar was interacting only with his crew, Straw Hats, samurai group (extended of Shinobu person) - the people he already knew for some time. Law isn’t going out his way to meet new people (like Luffy) nor bonds with accidentally met people (like Zoro with Tonoyasu). It seems in Law’s nature to avoid interaction with strangers as much as possible. Which makes me wonder if that comes simply from his introverted nature, general distrust for people or maybe even some social awkwardness created by childhood trauma and growing up in criminal organisation (Donquixote Pirates)? Because Law’s way to interact with people he just met is either ignore them (seen above) or act in cool manners around them, like in Punk Hazard with Straw Hats… but frankly, Straw Hats freaked him there on so many levels it really makes Law looks like social interaction is not his thing.

This reflection actually comes close to another detail. Namely, Law’s general feeling about Straw Hats helping starved people. Because the locals were truly happy and expresses that just before the departure of Three Supernovas (chapter 919):

Law has strong opinions about pirates, it seems. And it comes from a man that admitted he doesn't like to kill but yeah, doing nice things for (poor) people makes him sick. Was he so annoyed by the cheering people, or did he simply didn’t know how to react to such situation so he went with a grumpy approach?

Law expressed a lot emotions; the outbursts of anger departs from the image of stoic captain but at the same it makes me think that Law must feel okay around Zoro to be so open about his frustration (and lack of control over situation?). At the same time, Zoro let him take out all anger on him without a word. But the most important thing, no matter how much Zoro’s screwed up, no matter how much Law’s screamed and accused and was unhappy about, it didn’t change their already estabilished relationship. Once the situation calmed down, Law again kept close to Zoro and shared the same opinion about Luffy’s antics and in general they were okay in each company.

Next part: Separated Again

#one piece #The development of Law’s relationship with Zoro #roronoa zoro #trafalgar law #wano arc #law & zoro #zoro & law #i loved so much this chapters #all law's frustration and anger #and zoro's calmness about the whole situation #my analysis

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zombiekillerky · 3 years

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{ROTTMNT Fanfic} - Insomnia

(This Fanfic was inspired by @dovelydraws with their wonderful fanart they made of Rottmnt. Please go show them some support on their account!!)

( WARNING : This is not Turtle x Turtle related at all, this is purely just some family scenarios with no relationships at all what’s so ever. Just regular day in the life turtle stuff)

Leo would never admit it to anyone that he was starting to get Insomnia. His usual joyful and sarcastic self would never tell anyone about his sleepless nights he had been having. Ever since the fight with Draxum and Big Mama at her hotel about the ooze-squitos. He hasn’t been able to sleep at least a couple of hours. He could pin point why he wasn’t having any luck on one thing that came to mind every time he thought about it. Him falling from a skyscraper that had at least around 52 floors or more. He would say it could be PTSD, but he chose not to think about it and just ignored it for the time being. Pushing everything to the side in order to make it through the day with out being questioned over and over by his family. The turtle in blue would say the last time he had a decent sleep was last week or maybe the week before. The fight took place on what he thought was Tuesday. So 9 days he hasn’t been able to catch a few Z’s in order to function properly. It was getting to the egotistical turtle a lot, taking a toll on how he acted and functioned during the day. His reflexes a lot slower then normal and barely any comebacks and puns left his mouth as the days went by. Yet he couldn’t tell his brothers what was going on with him, feeling as though he would just be bothering them at this point. But the looks they give him during the day make him realize that they are on to him more then he thought.

Leonardo walked out of his bedroom, covering his mouth as he let out a small yawn before returning to the front area. His brothers had just woken up at their regular times of the day. At least from what he thought since he could hear some of their voices in different rooms when he first decided to leave his dark room. Yet here he was not a wink of sleep, walking out like a zombie that rises fresh from the grave. Did he want to make a joke about himself, yeah, but he had to keep his personal issues a secret. At this point in time he was sure his brother’s had noticed a change in his body and the way he has looked. It was one of the things the turtle in blue didn’t want to deal with or talk about at the moment. He just wanted a calm day, maybe by himself if he was feeling up to it. As the laid back turtle walked in to the kitchen area his brother glanced at him in confusion. Mikey quickly glanced around the corner to make sure Leo was in there before going to his brothers in Donnie’s lab. As he walked in they both gave him the same look he thought they would give him before he fully entered.

“What’s up with Leo guys, he looks so tired and sad all of a sudden....do you think something happen to him?” Mikey asked as he hugged himself thinking about how he has been looking the past couple of days. He’s been wanting to ask him about it for a while now, but knowing Leo he would just tell him he’s fine and brush it off. Leo has always never really wanted to talk about his true feelings with things. They were all almost used to that aspect of him by now from previous times. But the state his brother was in was starting to worry Mikey greatly. He would do anything for his brother to make sure he was okay. The youngest of the three turtles glanced to the oldest for answers, watching his tense and anxious nature was not helping him at all.

“I don’t know but he keeps stealing my coffee in the morning and it’s starting to annoy me. That’s one of the main things that keeps me going and not having all of it is taking me down a notch” Donnie replied as he turned in his chair to face his younger brother standing behind him. The words that left his mouth seemed like he was more annoyed hen worried at the moment. Even though they were very serious about their brother’s condition and state of mind. Taking note on his worried face he had at the moment like it was a surprise to him. Donnie wouldn’t admit it but he has noticed his brother’s sudden change in behavior lately. His usual annoying self has died down a bit which he would say was good. But it was so weird not hearing his sarcastic come backs and his puns he always says through out the day. He also didn’t want to admit it but he did kind of miss his sarcastic attitude he had in certain situations. Realizing this is what it would have been like if he made his gift to him permanent. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted things to be like that now that he got a small taste of this attitude.

“Do you think something is bothering him?”

“Of course there is Raph other wise why would he look like a zombie coming out of his room every morning the past couple of days then?”

“Nightmares?”

“I don’t think Nardo would get that scared of nightmares like you and Mikey do when you both have them” Donnie replied, a frustrated sigh followed as he rested his head on his palm. Not wanting to continue his sentence in worry that his brother’s would get offended by his words, which they would have. But his main thought was trying to think of a possible way his brother could be acting so different then normal. He felt as though he would be the only one to find out why especially with his scientific skills on board. The overly smart turtle over heard his older brother sigh as he glanced out of the lab. Watching their brother in need walk out of the kitchen with a coffee cup and a cookie in his hand for his so called breakfast. You could smell how strong the coffee was from where they were standing. Raph couldn’t unseen the look on his brother’s face, the tired, emotionless look he was giving like he was in thought all of the time. This wasn’t the Leo he knew no, there was defiantly something up with him and he was desperate to know what. He was supposed to know what was wrong and how to make things better. He was the older brother, this was his responsibility to know what was up. He felt like he was failing him in some way not officially knowing what was making him sad.

“I should just go and ask him-”

“No you’ll just annoy him by asking him Raph, I’ll handle this alright just give me some time.” Donnie replied as he turned back around to work on his bow staff. The simple taps of his foot hitting the ground showed he was in thought at the moment. Raphael bit his bottom lip as his brow knitted together. It didn’t look like he was trying to figure out what was wrong with their brother at all. It almost looked like he didn’t care that much if he was being quite honest. Maybe this was just Donnie’s version of tough love that he gave. But Raphael wasn’t having any of it, he needed to know what was up and now before things got worse. The eldest of the turtle’s in the room started to walk out. His gaze turned to Mikey who was following right behind him. Already knowing what his older brother was up to and wanted to help out like always. The duo of the lighter colored masked turtles made their way out of Donnie’s lab as quickly as they could. Making it to a point where they could actually speak to each other in private of their other brother’s in their home.

“What are we gonna do now Raph....what if Leo says nothing to us?” Mikey asked suddenly, doubting his skills to help his brother in need. Raph was honestly thinking the same thing at the moment. But he knew he couldn’t tell his younger brother he had the same doubts in mind. He needed to stay positive about this whole thing and hope for the best out come.

“Well we aren’t going to force him in to doing anything....we just need to make sure that he is alright....if he doesn’t want to tell us what is going on then he doesn’t have to if he isn’t comfortable enough.” Raphael replied, watching the ends of Mikey’s lips curl in to a small warming smile. The leader in red wasn’t to sure about his own skills in comforting his brother at the moment either. But he needed to try, he has vented to Leo in the past about some problems of his. So he needs to make sure he knows that he is there for him too. The turtle in red sighed slightly, covering his mouth with the end of his fist as he stood there in thought. Thinking of the best way for him to go in there and ask him what was up. His overthinking nature was taking over his mind at the moment, making him unsure of everything. Raph soon stopped himself, clearing his throat before walking over where his brother’s room was. His steps were quiet as he walking carefully over. Noticing the light was off that he usual turned on when he woke up. Raph’s gaze went back toward his little brother behind him. Getting a quick thumbs up with a small grin that followed for good luck. His hand raised and returned the gesture before walking in after knocking on the side of the cement in the doorway.

“Hey Leo what are you doing?” Raph asked calmly like any other normal day of the week. Watching Leo set his comic book down he seemed to reread over and over every once and a while. He took note on the look on his face, the bags underneath his eyes. Not to mention how slow he was really moving. The turtle in blue stretched slightly, hearing a small pop of his back before shrugging ever so slightly as a reply. Raphael soon walked in after, feeling like he was sort of welcomed in by his brother. The end of Leo’s bed sunk due to his weight being on the end compared to Leo’s in the middle. The awkward silence was very unsettling as they sat in the dark bedroom next to each other. Something neither of them were used to with their quite loud family they have.

“Nothing” Was the soft reply that was heard coming out of Leo’s mouth. His expressions were slow and his excitement was minimal then what his normal range was. Raph’s eyes darted around the room for something to talk about, feeling as though he shouldn’t get straight to the point of why he came in to his room.

“D-Did you need something? Wanting a training partner like you said yesterday?” Leo asked to try and lighten the mood. Faking acting like he was himself when Raph could see right through his brother’s charade. Raphael leaned forward and rested his hand on Leo’s shoulder. The laid back turtle glanced up in to his brother’s eyes questionably. Already bracing himself for the questions to come once he saw the worried look in his eyes. His gazed went to the side and found his much younger brother in the doorway as well. Acting as if he wasn’t there and Leo couldn’t see him. But right now he needed to pay attention to what his older brother was saying.

“Are you okay?”

“Define okay.....I think I’m fine why?”

“Like overthinking? Sleeping issues? Nightmares at all?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Leo don’t deny it, we have seen you coming out of your room the past few days looking like you haven’t slept at all. It’s starting to worry us even if you don’t see that. I’m speaking for all of us at the moment” Raphael replied as he moved closer to his brother on the bed. Taking note of his expression of thought he had at the moment. The turtle in blue was trying his best to make up an excuse, a lie of some sort to make it seem like he was fine. But the truth was screaming to be let out of him, hoping they could help him in some way. This whole no sleep act was getting to him in more ways then he could count. He couldn’t take this annoying pain away no matter how hard he tried, he just always seemed to wake himself up. Leo’s eyes darted around the room, finally locking with Raph’s as he stared down at him. He would never be able to lie to his face even if he tried. The turtle in blue bounced his leg out of anxiety, running his hand behind his head all the way down to his neck nervously.

A sigh left Leo’s lips as he leaned forward and rested his forehead on his brother’s muscular arm. Giving up on trying to lie to his brother trying to help him. Raph happily wrapped his arm around him to comfort his brother in need. Watching his eyes stare out at the wall as they screamed for help but no words came out of his mouth. This was his plead to him he felt almost with how quiet he got.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Raph asked Leo in his arms, feeling him shake his head calmly and slowly up against him. This concerned Raphael greatly once he learned of that. He bit his bottom lip slightly as he glanced back at Mikey standing there nervously. His eyes went back down to his brother sitting there up against him. Things were now tying up together from what Raph assumed before hand.

“How long has it been since you have actually slept bro.....please be honest with me here?” The older brother in red asked calmly in a soothing tone. Hearing a small sigh as Leo shrugged his shoulder’s slightly in return. Worrying Raph even more so then before hand.

“I don’t remember the last time I had a really nice sleep if I’m being quite honest Raphie” Leo replied with a warn out grin on his face to hide away the pain. Raphael’s brow knitted together as he thought about what he had said more and more. Not being able to understand why his brother was suddenly having bad sleeping issues. Leonardo was one of the main turtles that got good sleep being as though he complained when not getting his usual hours when he woke up to early. Why hasn’t he even told him about this before hand, Leo was one to speak his mind about something he thought was off. He spoke his mind about Big Mama and here she was a villain after all.

“Why haven’t you been able to sleep.....is there something wrong? Something keeping you up at night Leo?” Raph asked softly, watching Leo’s eyes squint as he tried to think of something. Raphael waited patiently for him to answer, watching his expressions change as he rested against him. The turtle in red couldn’t really pin point anything on his bad sleeping issues at all. Not knowing what was bothering him made his heart ache, he should know after all. The guilt was rising in him that he didn’t know and wasn’t there for his brother when this first started to happen. Feeling idiotic for not realizing sooner and acting sooner then this.

“I-I don’t really know if I’m being quite honest..... the only thing I can really think of is when I was thrown off that roof top back when we were fighting Draxum on Big Mama’s hotel building....nothing comes to mind besides that moment and it’s the only thing that ties up to when I started not being able to sleep I think....I’m not sure other then that.” Leo replied as he glanced up at Raph in front of him. Raphael’s eyes widened in realization as he recalled that night clear as day. Draxum held him over the roof top and asked Raph either his brother or the bugs. Raph was sure he was bluffing, being that he thought every villain does. But once he saw his brother was thrown off the roof as soon as he said no to giving him the bugs. He dropped the jar of ooze-suitos immediately to go and save him. It was close he would admit and he wasn’t sure how he activated his powers. But he saved his brother from falling at the last second and made sure he was okay before they made it back to the others. He hadn’t even realized that fall had caused his brother trauma secretly. He had just assumed since they have been up on the roof tops for ages that he would have been used to the fall and the height. Raph’s eyes darted back down to Leo sitting there with his tired look. His arm keeping him up on the bed soon wrapped around his shell and pulled him in closer.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t see this before bro, I should have noticed this sooner then I did and maybe we could have helped you earlier then this....maybe I could have acted faster then I did back then and saved you quicker”

“no no Raph it’s not your fault bro come on, it’s okay....I’m okay....i forgive you if that’s what you want to hear....but it’s not your fault”

“I am really sorry though Leo....truly I am”

“Yeah we’re so sorry Leo” They both heard Mikey say from the door way with a guilty look on his face. Leo smiled softly as he held his hand out, motioning for him to come on to the bed. Which Mikey immediately did so and joined in on the group hug as soon as he could. For once Leo actually felt safe, he felt all the anxiety go away from him in their arms that held him tight. Comfortable like nothing could touch him like the times when they were little.

“It’s alright guys....I-I’m fine really....I just need to get this under control”

“Well we are here for you bro no matter what, we’ll always be here if you need us” Mikey replied lovingly as he hugged Leo tighter, making the laid back turtle chuckle softly.

“Well....we could try sleeping medication now that we have found the route of what has caused you such trauma and stress lately. Getting that off of your chest is the first step and if things don’t go back to normal sleeping medication is the next answer for now” The three turtles on the bed glanced toward the door way and found Donnie standing there propped up against the side. Arms crossed as he gazed inside with a small worried look on his face he hoped they couldn’t see. This was the “I try to cover up my worry” look as Leo likes to call it. The turtle in blue smiled softly at him as a thanks, not even daring to move away from his brothers holding him. He didn’t even notice sleep taking him over slowly as he sat there with him.

“Sounds like a plan then D” Leo replied with a small yawn, resting his head back against Raph’s arm tiredly. His eyes slowly shutting as a result of the lack of sleep he has been getting. Raph only smiled as he held a finger to his lips at his two other younger brothers in the room.

“Looks like we’re gonna have a day off today then guys” Raph soon said as he heard the small snores coming from his brother in blue in his arms at the moment. Realizing comfort was one of the things the turtle needed all along to help him get some shut eye. The eldest turtle slowly moved up against the wall in order to rest. Having Leo moved on to his plastron and Mikey right beside him. Noticing Mikey was falling slowly asleep too as he spoke. Raph’s eyes darted over toward Donnie walking in to the room slowly. His hands carefully grabbed a hold of the somewhat folded blanket on the edge of the bed sheets. For someone so loud in their lab he was moving extra carefully and quietly to not wake Leo up.

“His body has probably given up on the resistance of sleep due to the lack of it this whole time.....It seems like you both have helped him by comforting him” Donnie said as he carefully laid the blanket over his overly exhausted brother sleeping up against Raph. Noticing Mikey’s falling asleep as well.

“Do you want to join too D? I know you stayed up til 3 last night so don’t play games with me.”

“Well I do have some projects I would like to work on....but I am running low on sleep too soooo...” Donnie replied as he looked down upon them on the bed. Noticing Raph smirking since he knew what his answer was going to be. Donnie sighed as he took a step on to the bed and laid up against Raph’s other side. Taking his battle shell off since he wasn’t gong anywhere before laying down comfortably up against him as well. The turtle in red smiled softly to himself as he stared up at Leo’s ceiling. Getting nostalgia from when they were younger since this was how they used to sleep some days. The turtle in red’s eyes slowly started to shut. Glad that he could help his brother in need when he could at that Leo was finally getting some sleep.

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copias-thrall · 3 years

Text

Cause I'm Young and I'm Here and So Beautiful

A look into the rise and fall of Mary Goore's flash-in-the-pan modeling career.

~12.5K Mary Goore/Reader *drug/alcohol use; mentions of past child abuse; brief homelessness; plot no porn; POV shift*

This fic was inspired by and is very loosely based on Aurelio Voltaire's early days in NYC in the 90s, though I have set it in Boston in the early aughts. 😊

Many thanks to the artists who did commissions for this! 🥰

One Way Streets

Mary stepped off the regional rail and gripped his backpack. He had $72.57 in cash rolled into his socks and a give-em-hell attitude.

When he’d packed his bag the night before, he wasn’t even sure if he’d go through with it, but he couldn’t stand being home anymore. Some of his friends had told him he was crazy.

"Three more months, dude. You got this. Just finish high school, then bounce."

But they didn’t have to live with his dad and the step-monster. Every day was a new indignity. Having them bitch about his music and his style was one thing—that he could have dealt with—but everything else had just kind of…escalated.

Now that the kiddies were older, they’d turned into gremlins. They’d somehow sensed that Mary wasn’t their beloved older brother—he was some sort of half other. They’d stopped questioning why "mom was so mean" to him and had accepted that she was because there was something wrong with Mary. They realized they could be little shits and blame everything on him.

And dad just didn’t care. He’d throw up his hands and say, "I have to live with her"—as if Mary wasn’t in the same boat.

Dad hadn’t stopped her when—in a rage—she’d smashed every single vinyl album Mary had owned because the twins ruined her nice tablecloth. He’d shrugged when she cut all Mary's guitar strings so he couldn’t play "the devil’s music." He’d held Mary back when she took a match and burned all his secret stuff that Mary kept under his bed—action figures, books, guitar mags, journals—in the backyard because he got detention for smoking. He hadn’t said a word when the police showed up after she came at Mary with scissors because he’d dyed his hair black and he’d pushed her away before she could scalp him.

Mary thought for sure he was going to get carted off to jail as she screamed about him terrorizing the family and being afraid he was going to kill her sons in their sleep, but the officers had just looked at her bored and told her being a teenager wasn’t a crime.

So, no: Mary couldn’t wait 3 more months.

He’d scraped together what money he had left from his secret shifts working as a busboy under the table at a local dive downtown, packed his backpack with the essentials, and walked the 5 miles to the train station instead of going to school.

Eighteen was 10 weeks away. He could fudge it for a few months, especially since he could already get away without using his fake ID to get into shows most of the time.

So, to the big city it was.

He shifted his weight and tried to pretend that he belonged here in Boston, but actually facing the busy streets was a lot different from looking at a bird’s-eye view map. He had a printout in his pocket, but he didn’t want to look like a doe-eyed tourist. So he set off down the seemingly labyrinthine streets in the direction he could have sworn was the correct one.

It wasn't.

When he came out a side alley into Faneuil Hall, he almost wondered if he'd gone through a fairy portal, since he was clear on the other side of town. Begrudgingly, he checked his creased map, and set out once more.

And ended up spit out by the State building.

Finding the hostel turned into a fraught adventure, and he got turned around several times more. When he tried to ask for directions, most people pushed past him while one lady shoved $5 at him. He used the cash to buy a hotdog, and it was the vendor who ultimately gave him directions in his thick, Southie accent.

Of course, making it to the hostel ended up being just part one. The rates were almost double what it stated online ("Sorry, honey—that site hasn’t been upgraded since the 90s."), and two nights were practically all his savings. Mary had thought he’d at least have a couple of days to find a job, not 36hrs.

He left the hostel, wondering for the first time if maybe he shouldn’t go back home…but he decided it was a nice day out. Surely there was some place he could hunker down. Just for the night.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the cops at every fucking turn telling him to move along. And any place out of line-of-sight seemed to already be inhabited.

He finally found a place behind some rocks in the Seaport where he didn’t think he’d be murdered in his sleep, curled around his backpack, and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Mary woke up damp from the dew and the morning sun streaming into his eyes. The birds were creating an awful racket, but Mary guessed it was as good an alarm clock as any.

He ran his fingers through his bird's nest of hair, and he made his way back to the South Station. The men’s room may have smelled like a sewage treatment plant, but at least it was free. He had expected it to be mostly empty at the crack of dawn, but it was full of commuters making that last run to the head before they had to take the train 2hrs out of the city for work.

And it was a sight: a bunch of suits with their fancy lattes washing their hands, and Mary in the corner trying to surreptitiously wipe down with paper towels under his Misfits t-shirt and his shredded jeans. At school, he’d have probably gotten into several altercations by now—no one would have let him just turn into Mary Goore without a fight—but this was Boston, and no one gave him more than a cursory glance.

Just another college kid.

It emboldened Mary to go full-out in the kind of way he had only done when going out to the punk shows downtown at night: kohl all the way around his eyes, and some on his cheekbones; mascara because his lashes are long and thick, and he knows it (his dad had said it made him look hard, and Mary had sneered that maybe that was what he’d been going for. But maybe it had been because he’d liked the way it had made his green eyes pop.); a smear of the step-monster’s fanciest matte lipstick on his full lips; and airplane glue in his hair to give it that lift.

He made a kissy face at himself in the mirror, and headed back out.

It was a nice Spring day—almost boiling in the direct sun—and it tempted Mary to wear only his battle vest, but even he kind of figured applying to jobs half dressed was a mistake.

He walked all over the city, trying not to get lost, looking for any kind of work—dishwasher, busboy, barback—but all he had to show for it was blistered feet and a raging appetite. The only good part of the day was that he noted any restaurant or bakery that looked like it might toss perfectly good food at the end of the day.

He and his friends had become experts at dumpster diving in his podunk town, and he felt confident that he had a good feel for a jackpot. Mary staked out a bakery and was rewarded with a find of "old" bagels. He shoved as many as he could into the nooks and crannies of his backpack before slinking off to the Commons to inhale at least two of them.

Cold, stale dough never tasted so good.

He watched the tourists and the professionals walk by in ones and in groups while he ran his bare feet through the grass. Some laughed with each other as they sauntered down the path while others seemed singularly intent on their ultimate destination. A pack of dogs ran and played with each other as their owners looked on fondly, and nearby the baseball diamond hosted a casual game.

Mary counted his lucky stars that his first week in Boston was April at its kindest—always mild during the day, even when it turned cloudy, and a few times even downright warm. The nights turned chilly, though, and it had Mary in more layers than an onion. If the birds or damp didn't wake him, his butt cramps from being curled in a tight ball all night did.

He spent those days walking around the city proper looking for work. He wasn't adventurous enough to make the leap across the bridges to Cambridge just yet, but his travels gave him a good sense on how the different sections of Boston connected—and showed him potential places to crash at night. He didn't even mind living off day-old garbage food and drinking from bubblers (he'd bought a water for the express purpose of reusing the bottle), but the barren wasteland that seemed to be the job market was beginning to weigh on him.

At home, he could always find a shit job if he was willing to put up with shit hours and ridiculous requests. Here, though, Mary was just one of many desperate people willing to do desperate work.

And he didn’t look particularly trustworthy or reliable.

@dipendancesld

Hashtag WTF

I’m scrolling through Insta on the T, and I’m way down the rabbit hole of hashtags. New content was at a minimum this morning (how can I follow accounts in triple digits and only see the same 4 posts?!), so I’d started with some art tags and ended up where I usually end up—trolling social media for blurry pictures of my boy.

His band has been a local staple for years—or at least that’s what he told me on our first date. I had just moved from New York after a nasty breakup, ready to start fresh, and I’d seen him at a coffee shop hanging posters for his next show in his leather jacket, asymmetrical Metallica crop top, and stomping boots.

Fresh had never looked so good.

Then, a few months back, an online publication had featured his band in the year’s 50 best bands "you’ve never heard of," and now the band's starting to gain traction.

He’s starting to gain traction.

Finding the new online content of him first has become a game the two of us play. We had to stop counting images posted from the popular fan accounts because Mary's now acquaintances with most of them, and I said it was hardly fair to snipe me that way. Mary had pouted—but it was to cover up his grin. So now we troll for the pictures of his latest gig or at his favorite haunts from either his casual fans or one of his new ones. I even have a whole range of hashtag typos saved if I really want to triumph, since Mary just doesn't have the attention span.

I usually win, though, by virtue of not keeping Rockstar Hours—and because Mary doesn’t have a smartphone. Mary delights in spending the wee hours while I'm sleeping finding new content, and I'll often wake to one he's pulled up on my laptop and a "suck it" sticky note stuck to my monitor.

(But I’m reigning supreme.)

There’s a thirst tag I sometimes comb through (for reasons), and today I’m desperate for that morning serotonin to keep me from dozing off, which is why I stumble across a particularly convincing cosplayer in some…risqué poses and outfits.

The dude is really good, and I have to admit he really does have Mary’s mannerisms down pat. He’s younger and a little skinnier than Mary is now, but his facial expressions are on point. I zoom in to see the contouring technique because he's using one of those filters to make it look old…and that’s when I sense something off. I can’t quite place my finger on it, but usually there’s an uncanny valley to his serious cosplayers, and this dude looks so real. He’s even 100% accurate with the mole placement, which is something I never see.

My heart does a flip-flop.

Is that…actually Mary?

Foundling

Mary's sixth night in the city, it rained. It was more of a brief Spring shower, but it was still enough to soak him and his backpack through. He shivered through the early morning hours until the sun came up, then he made his way to the Commons to lay his belongings—and himself—out into the sun to dry.

By midday, he had a slight sunburn across his nose, but most of his things were dryish—though the food was a soggy lost cause. He cut his losses and decided to buy a sausage from the hotdog vendor, even if that meant he was down to $52.37 in his sock bank.

It was the most amazing thing he'd ever eaten in his entire life (sometimes he still dreams of it), and he gobbled it down as he sat in the grass and watched the show of people pass by.

He could take today off from his job search.

Just another Groundhog Day of rejections.

A gaggle of kids about his age walked past, and he lit up when he saw them: studs and bright hair and cuffs and combat boots. They ran and shrieked and shoved at each other, and Mary had never felt such longing to be a part of something.

Not that nebulous feeling of "my world is out there somewhere," but "my world is right there if I can just get to it."

And he realized maybe he could.

These were his people.

Mary hopped off the bench and approached the boisterous group.

"Uh, hey…guys."

The pack stopped and looked him over, confused but not hostile.

"Oh hey, man" said a girl with green fins and a studded, leather jacket.

"Hey."

I have nowhere to go. Can I go with you?

"Sorry, I forgot your name."

"Oh, you don’t—"

A guy in a tight striped shirt, snake bites, and blue hair interrupted him.

"Shit, were you in my intro into film class last year?"

Mary was a high school dropout.

"Nah, dude. I’m new and shit."

…But he wasn’t stupid.

A curvy white goth with bleached blonde hair and a cream princess dress smiled at him.

"Aww, that’s rough, honey. If you think about it, they really ought to give transfers on-campus housing. It sucks to be so new and away from the action."

Mary nodded. "Yeah. Sucks."

"Well, we’re going to The Pit, wanna come?"

"If you guys don’t mind…"

"Fuck, the more the merrier!"

Mary smiled as they assimilated him into the group. He found out the goth’s name was Vanessa ("But call me Vanity."), green fins was Alexa ("Or Alex. I’m trying it out."), striped shirt was Billy, and the two other punks were Mandi (Manic Panic red) and Aaron (band tee, spiked collar).

No one laughed at him when he introduced himself as Mary or asked him why he had a girl’s name.

They took him onto the T at Charles MGH, and Mary marveled at the setting sun over the Charles River before the train ducked underground to barrel in Cambridge. At Harvard, they ushered him off the train and directly into The Pit, and Mary almost cried when he saw the pit rats there playing hacky sack, strumming guitars, and smoking cloves. Mary watched as his group high-fived, bumped chests, and hugged nearly everyone there before introducing him as if they’d known him for years.

He was shit at hacky sack, but he accepted a round on the guitar and shared a clove with a white girl who had a rat's nest of hair.

"Fuck their beauty stands," she said when she caught Mary staring.

Mary smiled and pointed to his own mess of hair. "Fuck ‘em," he repeated.

She cackled and handed him a brown bag with what he expected to be whiskey, but tasted like turpentine.

She laughed harder at his face as he coughed, and she pounded him on the back.

"Moonshine, dude. Lenny makes it in his bathtub."

"Which one is Lenny," Mary asked as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Oh, he’s not here. He goes to MIT. We have a strict trade agreement—booze for pot. I’m Katie."

Head fuzzy, Mary had made out with her until Aaron tugged on his arm.

"Shit dude, we gotta go before the T closes. You live close to here?"

"Uh…"

"Aww, I think he got into Lenny’s moonshine," said Vanity. "If he’s a transfer, I bet he’s at some shithole in Allston. You in Allston, honey?"

Mary just nodded.

"All right then," said Alex, taking charge. "We’ll put him up tonight. There’s no way he’s gonna make it back to Allston by himself, and I’ll be fucked if I’m trekking out there without a BU party to crash."

Mary wobbled slightly as Alex took his arm in his and led him to the T.

"Ok, we gotta go now or we’ll all be hoofing it."

They took Mary back to their dorm by the Hatch Shell and signed him in as a guest.

"Is this ok?" Mary asked warily—he didn't want to get kicked out in the middle of the night.

Mandi patted him on the back.

"We do it all time. No one really gives a shit. Vegan Mick dropped out 2 semesters ago and they don’t even check for his ID."

That night, Mary slept in the common room on a lumpy couch that was half as long as he was.

It was heaven.

The next morning seemed like the end, and Mary slumped as Vanity to sign him out. For one brief day he'd been a part of something, and now it was back to Mary, party of one. But Vanity took one look at his face and asked if he wanted to get breakfast at the dining hall.

Of course, he wanted to…but he thought of the dwindling cash in sock bank and hesitated. Vanity, bless her, misread his trepidation.

"It's on me, sweetie. I know most transfers don’t opt in. Too expensive when it’s not bundled. No worries, I got a ton of points I don’t use."

Alex and Aaron were already half done with their food when Vanity and he joined them, and they looked on in amusement as Mary ate half the breakfast buffet.

When the subject of classes came up, he shrugged off questions.

"None this morning."

Alex narrowed her eyes at him.

"What year did you say you were?"

"Sophomore."

"Not a freshman?"

Mary shook his head. "I’m not a freshman."

She seemed about to ask another question, so Mary quickly changed the subject.

"I thought I’d spend the day applying for jobs. You guys know of any place that’s hiring?"

"No work study?"

"No."

"What kind of work you looking for?"

"Shit, anything. I’ll sweep the fucking floors."

They bandied about ideas, places for Mary to try, but no one had any leads. Too soon, some unknown gong had them scurrying to get to class.

Mary suddenly panicked.

"Hey, do you guys mind if I spend the night again? I mean…"

"Yeah, sure," said Vanity. "Aaron?"

"Yeah, man. Meet me after class and I'll swipe you in."

It apparently was a time-honored tradition, passed down from upperclassmen to underclassmen, on gaming the guest system. Most kids used it to essentially move their significant others into their dorm rooms, but a handful every year used it to give haven to others who had questionable housing situations.

So, just like that, Mary had a place to rest his bones.

@dilfpassing

A Deeper Look

I’m so intent on scrolling through the comments on the grainy pics—which I'm sure now are actual scans—that I completely miss my stop, and I have to put my phone away so I can wheeze lightly jog my way to where I work as a receptionist at an alternative hair salon.

It’s really important that I start a good hour before we open so I can return any calls left on our voicemail first thing in case I can fit anyone in today. Which means I have to shelve my find for now, much to my irritation.

Mornings are super-busy because apparently there are some people in the world that like getting up with the sun and want everything done by noon. (June Cleaver’s salon lets me get away with a lot—like coming to work in denim short-shorts and ripped tights, free hair colors, and a snarky attitude—but late start times aren’t one of them.) I honestly don’t have room in my brain to obsess about the pictures because I’m too busy answering calls, making coffee, settling accounts, and giving the new customer spiel for the 57th time to a walk-in.

It’s just after midday, when Penny, the shampoo girl, collects my cash for the salon-wide sandwich run, and I finally have a moment to breathe. And obsess.

I take out my phone again, and I have to retrace my steps because of course the app has refreshed, which is why Sonia has the time to look over my shoulder.

"Missing dream boy’s dick so much you gotta spend your lunch hour ogling pics of him on the internet?"

I zoom in on the one of maybe!Mary in his underwear.

"Who does that look like to you?"

Sonia makes a guh sound in her throat and backs away.

"I don’t need to see your intimates!"

"That’s the thing! It’s not mine!"

"Your boy’s nudes get leaked??"

I wave my arms around.

"I don’t freakin’ know! They may not even be him. Fucking. C’mere and help me out!"

Sonia warily creeps back over, and so does Ryan, since all the yelling has attracted him.

The three of us peer over the phone as I scroll through the images again.

By the time Penny comes back with lunch, we’ve gone back and forth on who’s in the images—Mary or a fake—and I haven’t been able to do any actual research. The afternoon rush starts, and I have to table the whole thing again, having made no progress at all.

It isn’t until near-closing, when most of the other stylists have gone home—and it’s only June who does the post-work crowd—that I can really dig into the matter.

A deep dive and a couple of defunct, decade-old forums later, I find that what I took as an aspirational hashtag was actually the name of a zine called "Heroes."

There’s like, zero online trail about it—except for a few other grainy scans of other pages of articles, poetry, concert pictures, and art—but it seemed to be an early aughts missive for local underground culture and color.

It still doesn’t explain why Mary’s in there in various states of undress and poses.

Or why Mary has never said a word about it to me.

Stripped Bare

Mary settled into a sort of routine. He spent most days looking for a job—any job—with his backpack full of food from their dining hall. Most nights he rotated couches on different floors so the RAs didn’t notice that he basically lived there.

He made friends with Vegan Mick for about 5 seconds until Mary had eaten an entire Rotisserie chicken from 7-11 in front of him. Mick had launched into a whole spiel, and Mary had pointed out that Mick's jacket and Docs were made of leather. He’d only meant it as a joke—a callout in answer to a callout, like he'd do with his friends back home—but Vegan Mick had turned purple, then iced Mary out every time he saw him after that.

Oops.

The brief friendship had lasted long enough, however, for Mick to give Mary some tips and tricks of being homeless.

Homeless.

That had been a tough pill to swallow. Until Vegan Mick had put Mary’s situation like that, Mary had just thought of himself between places.

But it was true: he didn’t live anywhere. He skated by on the kindness of his new friends, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the ruse of "transfer student who didn’t like his shithole apartment and was too busy job searching to concentrate on classes."

He still spent a few nights a week finding an out-of-the-way place outside to hunker down in or huddling in with Katie and a few of the other gutter punks under their boxes in the corners of the T stations. He knew they would have been more than happy to make room, anyway, but Mary always emptied his backpack of all the pilfered dining hall food for distribution amongst them.

It honestly wasn't so terrible now that he had friends and a warm place to go on cold or rainy nights, but.

He needed an actual place to live. To afford an actual place to live, he needed a job. To get a job, he needed a place to live.

It seemed like a catch-22, and he began to despair that he’d never get ahead…until Mandi offered him a leg up.

Mary was sitting on the grass in the Commons in the shade, thinking that with summer coming up, maybe he could fudge it until the gang came back in September. There was always Katie and The Pit, and Mary was sure he could chip in somehow.

Mandi sat down next to him.

"I thought that mess of hair was you, Mare."

"Hey, Mandi. What’s kicks?"

"You still looking for a job?"

Mary put his head in his hands and sighed.

"Don’t remind me."

"You over 18?"

Just last week. But Mary hadn’t said, since they thought he was a Sophomore.

"Yeah."

"Wanna be at least 21?"

Mary grinned at her.

"That’s what my fake ID says."

She laughed, a tinkling thing.

"You got anything against strip clubs?"

Mary furrowed his brows at her.

"Uh…what’s the right answer here?"

She shoved him playfully.

"Do you want a job?"

"Yeah?"

"Then say no."

"No. No problems with strip clubs." He squinted at her. "Are they looking for male strippers?"

She laughed again.

"Definitely not." She canted her head at Mary. "I mean, you're very pretty, Mare. I could probably put you on as one of the girls…even with these triple As," she flicked playfully at his nipple, which had him grunting and batting at her, "but I was thinking more behind the scenes."

Mary held up his arm and made a weak muscle.

"I don’t think I’d be much of a bouncer, Mands."

"You said you’d wash dishes, sweep floors and shit, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, the club I work at—"

"The club at you what now?"

Mandi gave him a strange look.

"Yeah. The strip club I work at."

Mary’s eyes bugged out.

"As a…waitress?"

"As a stripper, Mary. Duh." At his dumbfounded look she shook her head. "It’s kind of extra credit, as a dance major. I’m going to turn it into my thesis. Plus, I make hella bank."

She swept her arm across the park that made up her college "campus."

"How else do you think I can afford this rock-and-roll lifestyle? Not all of us are here on scholarship or mom and dad’s dime."

She tilted her head at him.

"I thought you’d get it."

When Mary didn't respond, she touched his shoulder.

"Mare. I know you don't go here."

"W-what…? I…"

He looked at her, wide-eyed as the blood drained from his face.

"Hey, it's ok. I'm not gonna tell anybody. Not if you don't want me to."

Mary looked down. "Thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You know that means I've got no address."

Mandi bumped his shoulder and waved his words away.

"A lot of the girls dance. Paddy is used to dorm rooms as addresses. You can use mine."

Mary looked at her, hoping he could convey every ounce of gratitude he was feeling.

She grinned and punched him in the shoulder.

"So, you up for it? Sweeping floors and bussing tables?" She leveled a look at him. "Cleaning up puke?"

Anything.

"Fuck, I’m desperate, Mands. I’ll hold their hair back if it means a paycheck."

"That’s the spirit!"

***

Mary was sure Patrick was part of the mob—or at least in cahoots. The guy had taken one look at Mary’s ID and had said, "But how old are you really?" and Mary had said, "Nineteen."

Patrick had thrown up his hands. "Well, you ain’t gonna be serving alcohol anyway, kid. Your job is to do whatever I tell you. Some asshole breaks a bottle, you clean up the glass so the girls don’t hurt themselves. Some idiot ralphs all over the toilet seat, you scrub the shit out of that fucker. A bachelor party leaves a table a hot mess, you better be out there clearing off the table for the next one, got it?"

Mary had nodded.

"You show up at 5 to help the girls set up the bar. You stay til whenever it takes to close down—but you only get paid 'til 2am—and you get an hour to eat, unpaid. You don’t bother the girls, and," Patrick had leaned in, "you don’t steal from me."

Mary had gulped and nodded emphatically.

Patrick had jabbed a finger at him. "That includes the booze. If I get fucked because some snot-nosed, underage kid is drinking with my good friends Jim and Johnnie, I’m gonna be very put out."

"Got it, sir."

"Don’t call me sir. I’m Paddy to my friends, so you can call me Patrick."

"Yes, Patrick."

Patrick had looked him over.

"You get paid as an independent contractor just like the girls, so you gotta deal with your own taxes, you got that? I’ll start you at $10 an hour."

Mary’s eyes had gone wide. Back home he was lucky to get 5.

"Ten…?"

Patrick had tilted his head again.

"No, you’re right, 12. Do a good job, and I’ll think about raising it to 15."

Mary had to physically stop his jaw from dropping.

"You do weeknights for now so if you fuck up it’s not that much of a problem. If you don’t fuck up and the girls don’t hate you, you can get weekends. Deal?"

Mary had sat up straighter. "Deal." He’d held his hand out, but Patrick had just looked at it until Mary pulled it back into his side.

"Ariel vouched for you, so I’m giving you a shot. Don’t make her regret it."

Mary had shaken his head as Patrick had handed him some forms to fill out.

"Come back at 4 tomorrow with these and we’ll get you started. Now, get out, I got shit to do."

Mary had taken the forms and skedaddled.

Mandi was outside waiting for him, all smiles.

"Did you get it?"

"Yeah, but fuck—your boss is scary."

"Nah, he’s a teddy bear."

***

The job was awful.

The puke was an almost nightly occurrence, and by the end of the first week, little cuts covered Mary’s hands from the broken glass. The customers were loud, rowdy, and acted as if their mother was going to clean up after them.

Mary swore he would never get the beer smell out. It now lived in his soul.

One dude punched Mary and broke his nose for no reason Mary could tell before the bouncers dragged the guy away. The girls gave him some tampons to stop the bleeding, and Mary finished his shift.

Patrick paid Mary in cash at the end of every week with a "It’s your job to report that, not mine," and at the end of the month, Patrick bumped Mary up to $15/hr. He worked 5 days a week because, according to Patrick, "The Lord gave us a day of rest, and you get one day off per week."

Mary never reported a single cent to the IRS.

The girls loved him, and joked that Patrick had gotten them a pet. They showed him winged eyeliner and smokey eyes and how to contour. They guffawed when they watched him try out their shoes like a newborn deer. On slow nights, they tried to show him pole techniques.

He saw the gang less and less because by the time they were getting out of class, he was going into work, and when he was done work, they were crawling into bed. Fortunately, the desk sitters seemed to forget that he wasn’t an on-campus "student" and didn’t even bother signing him in anymore. There were a few sticklers, but Mary found that—while back home he was less than scum—here, he attracted all the right kinds of attention…and a smirk with the right compliment went a long way.

By the time their school year ended, Mary had saved up $1,000 (and he needed to transfer his money out of sock bank and into the ripped lining of his jacket).

Even though they didn't know just how much they'd saved him, Mary showed up on the last day as thanks to help them all move their stuff into family cars or rented trucks. They hugged him goodbye and said to ring them next semester.

Mandi bopped him on the nose and told him to keep his nose clean.

Mary took a sublet in Allston with 2 BU kids and a Berkley grad student. The "room" was a closed-in porch with a sleeping bag left by the last resident—but it was $400 a month until September, utilities included.

At first, Mary didn't know why the gang was so snobby about Allston, but the summer seemed to be one continual party. It didn't matter what day Mary got up, there were always broken beer bottles and stale beer on their front stoop, and the apartment had a designated watering can for washing away the vomit that dripped down from the top porches to their own.

But he took it in stride, and when he wasn’t at the strip club or sleeping, he was partying with the BU kids, or letting the Berkley grad show him better string fingering techniques.

Mary still tried to get out to The Pit with what groceries he could spare, but Katie had moved on with some of the others to do a protest tour with an activist street band that had come through town, and without her or the gang, it made Mary feel lonely.

By the end of the summer, Mary had saved up enough money for first, last, and security. He even had some left over to buy more than ramen and some new clothes. To Mary, it felt like a million dollars. He rented a garden-level apartment in the cheap part of Jamaica Plain for September 1st and spent that entire day with the BU dudes driving around in their rented truck for Allston Christmas’s best furniture finds.

Mary ended up with a mattress that he hoped on a wish and a prayer didn’t have bedbugs, a mismatched set of dishes, plastic drawers that were slightly warped, and a broken futon frame he swore he would fix. Throw in a few sets of slightly used string lights, and Mary’s cave felt downright homey.

When the gang got back, he simply told them he’d dropped out.

"Yeah, I just don’t think college is for me. Music’s my real passion, you know?"

Alex had groaned.

"I knew that Berkley kid was gonna be a bad influence on you."

Mary shrugged.

"My grades were shit anyway. But I’m still around, you know. The strip club’s only a block from campus."

"Because we saw you so much then," deadpanned Billy.

"Hey! Stop piling on Mary," said Vanity. "He’s following his path."

Mary shot her a wide smile.

"Thanks, Vanity."

Patrick finally gave him a little more leeway with his days off, and Mary started taking Saturday night to join the gang in Harvard Square for the shadow cast of Rocky Horror. One of Aaron’s classmates, Amber, was in it, and they all wanted to support her.

Mary felt that something again. That thing that told that this was his place and his people. This eclectic group who got up in front of strangers every week in their underwear for free enthralled Mary.

He and Amber bonded immediately, and Mary began going even without the gang. The cast welcomed him in as an honorary groupie, and Mary's friendship with the gang waned. There was still Mandi to cavort with at the strip club, but now when Mary wasn't there, he was at any one of the Rocky crew's apartments getting high and playing dress up.

"You’ve got such a Look, Mare," sighed Amber. "I’d kill for your cheekbones."

"I’d kill for your tits."

She slapped him playfully. "Don’t be gross."

"No, I’m serious. Someone once put it in my head that I'd be a hot chick."

The girls had giggled and proceeded to dress him up in bras and corsets with cutlets. They added a wig, and the glo-up surprised even Mary.

Still buzzed, they went out for girl’s night and hit up all the bars in Fenway and flirted their way to free shots from the dude bros before batting their falsies at bouncers to let them into the clubs ahead of the line and without the cover.

The cutlets eventually became a nuisance—and soon they were all flapping them about above their heads as they danced—but Mary had loved the feel of the lace and satin corsets against his skin.

When they’d all collapsed in a pile at the end of the night, Mary wondered if they’d tell him where to get some lingerie for himself.

***

By August, Mary was ready to quit the strip club.

He was tired of cut fingers (they were making it hard to play the guitar he’d bought), the drunks, and the sick everywhere. Now that he had a little cushion, he thought maybe he could at least find something with better hours.

Mandi had graduated and was well into a summer internship at Disney in hopes they’d bring her on as a dancer.

Alex had also graduated and moved out to LA to make it as a film editor.

Vanity and Aaron had started dating after finals, and they had moved in together in Cambridgeport for their last year.

Billy had stopped going to classes before dropping out altogether. No one seemed to know what happened, and when they called his home, his mother just said he was unavailable.

There didn’t seem to be much reason to stick around the Grid anymore, and it was a bitch of a commute back to his place if he wasn’t going to hang out with the Rocky crew. He landed a job at a record store that was walking distance to his apartment.

Patrick seemed surprisingly sad to see him go, saying, "Ah, the good ones smart up," and gave him a $500 bonus for not "fucking up."

Tim, one of the older Rocky people, turned out to not live too far from him, and when Mary started hanging out there, so did the party.

Now that Mary was no longer shackled by the strip club’s hours, his world opened a few more degrees. He spent his nights dressing up while he watched the cast rehearse. (When he showed them a move or two he learned from the women at the club, they tried to get him to do a guest star as Frank. But Mary had shaken his head and said that wasn’t the kind of performing he wanted to do.)

When they weren't rehearsing, they dragged Mary to TT The Bear’s, The Middle East, and The Milky Way Lounge for underground shows. They took him to fetish night at ManRay after a trip to Hubba Hubba for pleather and lingerie, and Mary made a lot of new friends.

Sometimes, Mary would show up to work straight off a night out in his club clothes, eyeliner smudged and lipstick smeared. It should have got him fired, but his boss just shrugged.

"I used to keep rockstar hours too."

Mary still wore all his old vestiges—his battle vest and his ripped jeans—it was just that now he sometimes added a corset and heels.

Wherever Katie was now, he hoped she knew he was still fucking their beauty standards.

ry.omen Insta

Answer Me This

I practically vibrate the entire way back to our place. I'm still trying to wring information out of the internet like it's too-wet clothes, but the only thing I accomplish is making myself motion sick on the bus, so I put my phone back in my pocket and breath through my nose.

When I get home, Mary is sprawled across the couch in his pjs with various limbs hanging over sides and edges as he watches some extreme sport show on my laptop.

I wonder if he just got up, but I see the start of dinner on the stove, so I decide not to snark at him.

"Hey," he says without looking up.

I am, however, gonna need some answers on "Heroes."

I gently close the laptop, and he meets my eyes.

"What?"

I climb onto the couch, and Mary’s limbs recede like vines to make room for me as I scroll through my phone to my photo app where I’ve saved screenshots.

"Lucy," I say in a terrible accent, "you have some ‘splaining to do!"

Mary squints at me and takes my phone, his expression morphing into one of surprise.

"Shit, babe. Where’d ya find these??"

"So they are you!"

He chuckles.

"Christ…I haven't thought about these in fucking years."

"Mind telling me what the fuck?" I ask, my hands on my hips.

I'm only half joking.

Mary grimaces at me.

"Ah."

"I'm gonna need more than that, mister."

He rubs the back of his neck.

"Fuck, you know those were hard times for me."

I know about his family, the homelessness. I know he tried out a lot until he found a life that fit. He'd given me the overviews with occasional anecdotes filled with names I never remembered.

But none of them included naughty pictures.

I worm my way under his arm.

"Yeah, I know, Mare."

His hand strokes down my arm.

"I mean, shit. I was kinda an asshole, you know?"

I wrap an arm around his chest.

"You're still kind of an asshole, Goore."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

When he doesn't say more, I poke him hard in the side.

"I’m literally dying here."

He laughs a little.

"Fine. But you gotta remember you asked."

Model Behavior

One day, Mary was walking down the street on his way to drinks with the new friends he'd made the weekend before. It was a good day. He wasn’t hungover as fuck, his makeup was only smudged artfully, and he was pretty sure he was going to get laid.

A guy in a leather jacket and tight jeans maybe a few years older than Mary stopped him on the street.

"Hey, man! I love your style."

Mary batted his eyelashes at him. "Thanks, dude."

"You ever think of dark modeling?"

Mary squinted his eyes at him.

"Dark what now?"

"You know—modeling but like," he gestured up and down Mary’s form, "for dark beauties. Show the world beauty isn’t cookie cutter."

"For like what? A website or some shit?"

The guy dug into his pocket, pulled out a card case, and handed one to Mary.

Heroes Greg Karson, Photographer/Web Design Butera School of Art

Actually, Mary had heard of this. It was a zine about the local happenings around town—concerts, art shows, parties, etc. There was a stack of them next to "Rrriot!" in the record shop. He’d flipped through one occasionally, mostly interested in the band reviews.

"We’re really on the lookout for anyone with the right look. You know, wear stuff you already own."

"So like a street fashion spread?"

"Well, we might do a little more with it, but—you know how it is. Most of the budget goes toward printing costs."

Mary perked up.

"Would I be paid?"

Greg laughed.

"Peanuts, my dude. But yeah. Even if it’s a T token. You interested, then?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Mind if I take a few test shots."

Mary smirked at Greg.

"How do you want me?"

"Just natural."

Putting his hands in his pockets, Mary arched his back and gave Greg his best snotty hipster face.

Greg dug out a digital camera from his carrying case and took a dozen or so pictures of Mary from different angles while telling him to turn this way or that.

Afterwards, the two of them huddled over the camera and scrolled through the shots.

"Aw yeah, this one. I love the attitude. The guys are gonna love it. You have a number where we can reach you?"

Mary gave him the number of the record shop. (His apartment had a phone, but he’d never gotten around to wanting to pay for service.)

Later, he and Amber looked up the Angelfire website on the back of the card. It was one page that contained the mission statement, bios of the creators, and locations to pick up the zine.

"Omigod—you’re gonna become a famous model, Mare!"

"Yeah, right. You know most of it ends up in the trash, right?"

But when Ben called, Mary said he was game. He directed Mary to a co-op in a converted warehouse in Dorchester, and Mary brought his favorite clothes in a borrowed duffle.

A girl in cat pajamas opened the door and pointed at a set of metal stairs with her cereal spoon.

On the second floor, Mary found Greg setting up a makeshift studio. A girl with multiple piercings and yarn dreads leaned against the wall in her black babydoll dress.

Mary sidled up to her.

"You here to model, too?"

She gave him an unimpressed once-over.

"I’m the art director, asshole."

Mary flushed hard as she turned to Greg.

"Couldn’t find one with brains?"

She turned back to Mary.

"I don’t know if you thought this would be a good way to meet chicks or what, dude. But I’m letting you know right now that I’m here on my day off to make sure this adheres to our aesthetic, so if you're not serious, fuck off."

Mary rubbed the back of his neck.

"Shit, sorry. I was expecting a dude named Ben."

She waved her hand in the air as if dispelling Ben.

"The Bens are morons. Good idea, terrible execution. I’m here to make sure we remain true to the idea of 'Heroes,' so don’t fuck up my shoot." She gave him a once over. "Christ. You have any experience?"

Greg turned from where he was testing the white balance.

"Angelique, stop harassing the talent. We get it, you have a degree from RISD."

Angelique snorted.

"As if I don't hear you going on and on about being a professional photographer. 'Hey, lemme shoot your portfolio, baby.' Whatever. As if we're not your only professional credit."

"Hey—you wanted a photographer for peanuts? You got me. You wanted models for peanuts? You got him."

Mary gave her his full snaggle-toothed grin.

"I take T tokens."

Angelique sighed, then pasted on a smile.

"Hi! So happy you’re here!" Her smile drooped. "You got your wardrobe in there?"

"Yeah."

Mary handed her the duffle, and she handed him release forms.

"Here: sign these"

She pawed through his offerings.

"Not bad, not bad." She pulled out a corset and his heeled boots. "We'll keep you in your jeans and have you wear your jacket over your corset. Cool?"

Cool.

The shoot was as professional as a shoot in a warehouse in what Mary was taking to usually be a living room could be. Angelique directed Greg with what she wanted. Greg called out positions and expressions for Mary to pose in.

It was surprisingly hard work, and by the end of a solid hour, his smirking lip was getting tired. Angelique and Greg scrolled through the shots, murmuring to themselves and nodding.

Mary waited—greeting at the other inhabitants as they squeezed by on their way either up or down—until Angelique approached him.

"That’ll do. You mind if we post on our website?"

Mary preened.

"Yeah, that’s kosher."

She handed him a pen and pocket notebook.

"Write down a quick bio."

He scribbled down a quick elevator pitch

Into general skulking and metal \m/

and handed the notebook back to her.

"Great, thanks."

She handed him a $20 bill, her eyes skimming him up and down.

"Next time we should show off those hip bones. Just jeans, I think."

Mary perked up. "Next time?"

"We’ll call you."

***

"Omigod, omigod!"

Amber perched on the record store counter, flipping through "Heroes," as Jon peered over her shoulder.

"Mary…look at you!"

Mary tried to swallow his smug smile.

Failed.

"Yeah. I’m hot shit, ain’t I?"

She bopped him on the nose with the newsprint.

"Don’t be vain."

He showed her his toothy smile.

"I like to think of it as confidence."

"So did Icarus."

Mary snorted and went back to putting prices on the new CDs.

"The camera loves you," said Jon, who was always quiet and reserved as you please…until he put on Frank’s corset and heels.

Mary had tried flirting with him, but Jon always ducked his head and played it off.

"Thanks, man," said Mary, giving him a softer smile.

"So??"

"So what, Amber?"

"Are you gonna do it again?"

Mary shrugged.

"I mean, if they call me, sure."

But he was kind of hoping they would.

When the next issue came out weeks later, Mary stared at the cybergoth on the pages and felt himself deflate. Listlessly, he thumbed through the delicate print, barely skimming the section devoted to the World/Inferno Friendship Society’s set he’d been at the week before.

He set it down with a sigh before he picked up his guitar and plucked out a tune he was trying to coax into a riff.

By the time a Ben called again, Mary had given up the modeling thing as a one-off.

"Hey, dude—thought maybe you guys forgot about me," Mary said in a teasing tone.

The Ben on the other end chuckled.

"It’s like herding cats to get shit out. Nah, dude—we definitely want you to be one of our regulars. You in for next Saturday?"

He was.

***

Over the course of a year, "Heroes" had Mary come out multiple times for shoots. Mainly, Mary wore his own clothes and did his own makeup, but occasionally, Angelique wanted something specific.

"How comfortable are you with boudoir shots?"

"With what?"

"Like a pinup, but more…saucy than sexy."

I'd pose nude if you paid me enough.

(Sure, he was a noodle boy, but he knew he had the goods.)

"Yeah, I’m cool with that."

Angelique brightened at him.

"Great!"

She picked up a set of complicated leather garters and thrust them at him.

"Put these on."

Mary had only ever worn lace garters—mostly out to clubs, but occasionally under his ripped jeans for an extra pop—but he found he liked these even more, liked the way they emphasized his thighs.

"Hey—where’d you get these…?"

(He was already thinking of what he could pair them with for goth night.)

"Local leatherworker. He mostly does pieces for Renn Fairs, but he'll also do custom. I can give you his info."

She led Mary into what was clearly someone's bedroom.

"Don't fuck anything up, or Joye will never let us use this again."

Mary shot her his best shark smile.

"Hey, I only mess up the sheets if someone asks."

Angelique gave him a flat look and called for Greg.

(But when he draped himself over the bed and told Greg to "Paint me like one of your French girls," Mary could have sworn she almost smiled.)

On one memorable occasion, she brought in a guy whose rope bondage demo she watched at a sex convention.

"Put on some of that lingerie and we'll truss you up. You ok with that, Goore?"

Mary ran his fingers over the coils and gave her a wolfish smile.

"You know I'm game for anything."

She gave him a vulpine smile of her own then, and she looked down at him from the height of her platformed boots.

"Good. I thought you should be submissive for once."

Mary had no witty rejoinder for that.

He listened with interest as the guy carefully explained what he was going to do, complete with pictures, and he relaxed easily into the process. (They put bunny ears on him, and it would be much, much later that he got that particular joke. Well played, Angelique.)

The ropes hadn’t let him do much posing, but Mary had kind of liked the constriction, and his thoughts were already on asking Amber to help him create a more versatile version for fetish night.

He’d left that day with a new kink…and the guy’s number.

"Why not just do one big shoot?" he asked another time. "Get it all done in one big bang!"

Angelique held up his garments to eyeball over him.

"Honey, we never even know if there's gonna be a next issue. The Bens spend most of the time arguing. My god you should hear them—Ben bankrolls the whole thing, so he says he should get final say on shit, and Benji wants total artistic control because it was his idea, because 'he's the graphic designer', and because it's his Kinko's employee discount they use."

She gave Mary a curled-lip smile as she tossed a few items at him.

"In the end it's this bitch you're looking at who gets shit done."

Mary began to change (they were long past modesty).

"How'd you get involved?"

"Went to school with Benji."

"Ben too?"

"Neg. The Bens are childhood friends. Ben works some cushy start-up job, so Benji lets him bankroll them both. Rent, utilities—everything. I love Benji to death, but he's a giant mooch."

"Shit, that must be nice."

Angelique shrugged. She stood back to appraise Mary's look.

"It's fucking lame. But it least it gets us fucking paid."

Mary didn't say I'd do this for free. Instead, he struck a pose and said, "I'm just happy for the exposure."

Angelique rolled her eyes and went to fetch Greg.

***

That year and a half would become a nonstop party with Mary as one of the VIPs; he wouldn't say no to anything—be it casual sex, club appearances, or whatever drug the current pretty thing was offering him in the bathroom.

But recognition started slow.

At first, it was customers who would leaf through the zine and recognize Mary.

Then, it was the occasional scenester who’d stop him on the street in JP as he walked about, and Mary would pose for grainy cell phone pics.

Soon, he was being approached at shows and clubs. The first time it happened, Mary was high off his new infamy and ready to please. A woman in a black bandage bra and pleated skirt with bondage straps approached him, and Mary was already thinking of what he could do with those.

"You look like that guy in ‘Heroes’!" she'd shouted to him over the music.

Mary had flashed her a crooked smile and leaned in.

"Maybe I am the guy in ‘Heroes’."

She'd given him an exaggerated once over before sidling closer with hooded eyes.

"I dunno…you're wearing way more clothes."

Mary had pulled his mesh top down by the collar in a tease as he'd curled over her.

"Take me somewhere more private and I’ll let you do a comparison."

She'd compared him all night.

And that was before he and the other "Heroes" models formed their own posse.

The Bens had thrown a BBQ and had invited everyone they'd ever met. There were people packed into their little 2 bedroom in Brighton, spilling down the back stairs, and equally packed into the little square of shared backyard. Ben had taken the 12-pack of 'Gansett beers Mary had brought, then introduced him to the other dark models.

"Now you're all here!" said Ben. He slung his arm around Mary. "Guys, this is Mary. Mary this is Mayhem, Lesley, Lola, and Bryan."

Mayhem was a rivethead, and Mary took to him instantly, but he was wary of the others. Lesley was the cybergoth who'd been in the first issue after him, and Mary still felt a bit salty at them, even though Mary knew by now the Bens rotated the models. Lola, the romantic goth, reminded him enough of Vanity that he felt guilty for losing touch with her and had him projecting a little. Bryan was a metalhead, so: competition.

Mary had thought they'd get along like cats and water, but weed, booze, and "Never Have I Ever" went a long way to creating a shared bond.

And there it was again. That pull. The magnetic force telling him that he'd found the place he was supposed to be. They quickly coalesced into their own pack, calling themselves the "Deathbutantes" (because they always killed it when they debuted for the night).

It had been rare for Mary to miss Friday and Saturday night shenanigans with the Rocky crew, but now, every night was Friday night. There was always a show or a concert or club that one of them knew about—and if they couldn't get lucky with the local color, they'd just go home with each other.

Mayhem taught Mary what Lola jokingly called the "grab a bat" dance, and the two of them cut quite the picture on the dance floors.

Lesley took to Lola, and the two of them could always be counted on for scintillating conversation in dark corners when Mary's limbst needed a break from flailing about.

The clubs weren't really Bryan's scene—take him to a sticky hole in the wall with concrete floors and a stage close enough to feel the sweat from the bands, and he was in heaven—but he liked to come along to hang. He'd drink PBRs, rub Lola's feet when she invariably abandoned her heels for the evening, and argue with Mary about the purity of death metal.

Mayhem and Lola weren't really into live music of the screaming kind, so—while Lesley, Bryan, and Mary bounced off each other in the mosh pits—they'd save a "home" base at one the bartops.

Amber noticed Mary's diminishing presence and stopped by the record shop to call him out.

"So you're not dead! Could've fooled me."

Mary was organizing the albums into order, and he grunted at her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm a cad. I'll make it up to you."

"You missed game night."

"Sorry. Jethro Tull played some tiny venue in nowhere Mass, and Bryan was salivating. I mean, Jethro Tull. Can you blame me?"

He looked at her, arms out wide in supplication. But she just blinked at him.

"You have no idea who Jethro Tull is, do you?"

"Sorry, dude. But christ, Mare. You should have invited me. I'd've gone. Maybe I would have even liked them. Now you'll never know."

"I could just lend you an album."

"Nope! The moment passed. Too late!"

Mary riffled through the stock and shoved a Jethro Tull CD into her hands.

She tapped it against her thigh.

"So, when do I get to hang?"

"I can get us into 80s night free."

"No, I mean, with your cooler friends. Your 'murder models', or whatever."

"You wanna hang out with the Deathbutantes?"

Amber scrunched her nose.

"That's so fucking pretentious."

Mary kind of liked it.

"Dunno if they're really your scene."

"Oh? And what's my scene?"

"Musical theater on crack."

She mock gasped at him, "Called out!" before smacking him with the CD. "Whatever. You love musical theater on crack."

Mary draped his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, I do. But I don't live it, you know? You guys have your niche—and fuck…I love to visit—but it's not mine."

Amber looked up at him, her expression serious.

"So the Dumbutantes are your niche?"

Mary shrugged and went back to shelving.

The Rocky crew had been good to him. They'd taken him under their wing, no questions asked, and helped him realize things about himself. Tim had taken him to the ER when Mary had come down with a serious case of the flu. Matty had taught him the basics of sewing. Gretchen had held him after a bad trip. Omar and he had had many drunken heart-to-hearts about their shitty home lives.

And Amber was his best friend. She'd been his #1 cheerleader for years and had never been afraid to call him out on his shit.

So yeah, he loved the Rocky crew…but they laughed at anyone who took anything too seriously. Mary would show up to game nights in his latest creation—with everyone else in pjs or jeans & hoodies—and they'd tease him about trying to impress the wrong people. He'd try to talk about the newest guitar god he'd been mainlining, and they'd make snoring noises at him.

How could he explain the kinship he felt with the Deathbutantes? That they were as serious about music as he was, that they just…got why he felt the need to dress the way he did to express the way he felt inside on his outside.

Instead, he said, "I'm just trying shit out, Ambs." He quirked his eyebrow at her. "I gotta do something while you guys do your real-person jobs."

(Amber had recently started as a junior marketing assistant at the American Repertory Theater. "Purely mercenary," she'd said. "Maybe it'll give me a leg up during auditions.")

She made a disgruntled scoffing noise in the back of her throat.

"Fuck, don't remind me. I actually gotta go to bed a reasonable hour now."

"Don't worry." Mary winked at her. "I'll keep ya honest."

"That sounds a lot like my head in a toilet, Mare."

"I'll hold your hair back."

She gave him a good-natured shove, and he pretended to cower.

If she wanted to cross pollinate, who was Mary to stand in her way? So, he invited her out the next time the Deathbutantes went to a show, and it went exactly like he thought it would.

They disliked her, and she was equally unimpressed. They thought she was too loud and frenetic, and she thought they had no sense of humor.

"I fucking told you," Mary had snorted as they sat on the curb sharing a clove.

"Shut the fuck up, Mare."

But she'd put her head on his shoulder.

"They make you happy, though. So I guess I approve. Just as long as I don't have to play nice."

Mary still hung out with the Rocky crew—there were still game nights and drug-fueled sex parties and theater games—but the Deathbutantes introduced him to the underground scene. They always seemed to have insider knowledge about the best up-in-coming bands and the secret shows. Theme nights at the goth clubs were always a must, and they rarely missed one. Sometimes, Angelique would crash, and they'd take the commuter rail to Providence to party at Club Hell before collapsing in a sweaty, smeary pile at a friend of a friend's hole in the wall.

As a bit player in the Rocky crew, Mary had been another made-up face in the crowd. As a certified member of the Deathbutantes, Mary became the face.

They all did.

The owners loved them because they bought round after round at the bar, and if word got out that the Deathbutantes were there, their admirers came to spend money as well. The employees loved them because they were fun and talked to them as equals. The clientele loved them because they were pretty young things.

Sometimes, though, Mary wasn't in the mood to party or get laid, so he talked to the DJs instead. He'd buy them rounds and stay past closing to help them pack up while they talked about the history of punk and 80s new wave and nu metal. There was one in particular, Dave, that Mary even considered a friend.

The two of them would sit in the club past closing, sharing a whiskey and talking about life while the bartenders closed down and cashed out. Occasionally, Dave's other friends would be around, and they'd all walk back to his place; he'd fool around spinning in his home studio, and they'd drink box wine as they danced and laughed before Mary would have to sit on the ground in an intoxicated exhaustion, good for only thumbing through Dave's vinyl collection.

Mary was just happy to talk shop with another music aficionado, but Angelique had pointed out that he should leverage his minor clout.

They'd been waiting for Greg to finish setting up, and Mary had been struggle city after a particularly hard night out. It was all he could manage to sit there quietly and hope some god would put him out of his misery.

"You need to get your shit together," Angelique had said out of nowhere.

Mary had cracked a puffy eye and had slowly (as to not bring the nothing in his stomach back up) turned his head to her.

"As if I haven't seen your melted ass on the floor wanting to die."

"Fuck, Mary. You've turned it into an art form."

He'd closed his eyes and given her the finger, but that hadn't stopped her.

"You wanna be a rockstar, boy? You can't just sit on your ass and hope the right person on the right night hears you. You're effervescent and charismatic—heads turn when you walk into a room and not just because of your skinny jeans—but you need more than air, Mary, which is all you are right now."

"Fuck you, Angela."

She'd clapped in front of his face, and she was lucky he didn't Exorcist bile all over her.

"You're a fucking pain in my ass, Goore. I'm doling out the good stuff, try not to bite my hand off, k?"

"All right, all right!"

"You wanna start that band? You wanna get play and amass fans? Well, make that demo you're always droning on about and give it to those DJs you're alway fanboying over. Fucking network, Goore."

At the time, Mary had been too hungover to care, but her advice would sink in…

Eventually.

For the time being, Mary was content. He loved the attention, and it made him feel invincible, made him feel like it was finally His Time. And he was going to make up for every slight, every unfair situation, and every beat down with sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll.

With his newfound nightlife, Mary's day job had become an afterthought. He started sleeping through opening shifts, but with the extra foot traffic Mary brought to the store, his boss seemed resigned to let Mary slide (after a stern talking to and a pay docking).

The shadow cast had started using him as a mascot of sorts, and he was happy to show up on Saturday nights and hype up the waiting line with a pseudo striptease. (Even if it was sometimes to kick off his evening with the Deathbutantes and not hang with the cast after.)

Mary started a band ("auditioning" any and all of the many admirers who said they’d be more than happy to join it), and after a few false starts and a couple of lineup changes, they began working on an EP. (At least, when Mary showed up to rehearsal, they did.)

A Boston Phoenix reporter got wind of the Deathbutantes and called around about doing a story on them. The Bens were excited about the exposure that meant for their zine, and Angelique and Greg were excited about what it could mean for their careers. Mary did a brief interview over the phone where he answered questions about his style and talked about his dream of making his band a household name.

Mary saw his name up in lights, and he was reaching for it, full speed ahead.

But then things turned.

The story fell through at the last minute with no further explanation or contact by the reporter.

His boss finally fired him after Mary showed up too high to function too many times—or not at all.

The shadow cast had a turnover, and suddenly he was old news—a cringey hanger-on.

A trip to the clinic and a round of antibiotics for an STI had him way more wary of who he hooked up with.

"Heroes" lost momentum when imitators popped up and Ben cut off the gravy train.

Angelique moved to NYC for "better opportunities," and the Bens took their brand of counterculture to Portland, OR.

Greg took down the website when he got offered a legit job as an apprentice at a food magazine, and that was that.

The physical zines were cheap things, most ending up papering the sidewalk after trash day or lining the bottom of cages. Without the online presence, did Mary's "modeling career" even exist?

Mary was a little sad to see the era go, but when he woke up in Maine on the hood of some girl's car and only a hazy recollection of how they'd gotten there, he was beginning to see Angelique's point. He needed to get his shit together if he was ever going to become a rockstar. And frankly, he kind of felt like he needed to spend an entire month eating carrots and hydrating.

The 24/7 party had always been an ephemeral thing; it had been sand passing through his hands in a finite amount as he'd tried to hold onto it

He put himself on detox, and waking up sober for the first time in months felt like a revelation. And as it turned out, playing the guitar without badly shaking hands was way, way easier.

He found another job in another music store, and his starter!band was bringing butts into the smaller venues, like Toad.

He still had his old Rocky friends and the Deathbutantes. The club and venue owners still let him in for free, and Dave was always happy to give his demos a spin. By anyone's else's measure, he was steal one of the scene's darlings.

But Mary was beginning to realize that he needed to stop seeing himself as that scared kid who’d arrived in Boston 4 years ago with only a backpack, $72.57 to his name, and void where his family should be.

He needed to stop finding people to please into loving him.

Instead, he needed to live for himself and let them love him for who he was—fuck ups and all.

@slimylayne

Epilogue

"Honestly, that’s probably the reason I even got a band together," he says. "I was still kind of shit at guitar, but people came to see ‘Model Mary’ perform in his underwear."

He shoots me a smirk.

"I’m sure there’re pictures out there of me looking more glam than metal. I kind of played up the whole pinup thing for a while."

"Fuck, I would kill, literally kill to see that."

He pulls me into his lap until I’m straddling him.

"I could open up my underwear drawer and show you right now."

"Goore, you temptress."

I lean down to kiss him, and his hands sneak under my shirt, but I pull away again.

"I kinda thought I knew all your torrid secrets by now. Shit, how come Dave's never needled you about it?"

After 2 years with him, I’m surprised I hadn't even heard a peep from his oldest friend.

Mary snorts.

"Dave would miss shit hanging off his nose. Great dude, amiable as fuck, but he's always had fucking tunnel vision for his music."

I smirk at him.

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Mary pulls a face at me, and I apply kisses to every line until he laughs and bats me away.

"But really, Mare—how come you never told me about your brief career in blue steel?"

He blows out a breath, his hands smoothing up my thighs.

"Fuck. Cuz maybe I was a little embarrassed at how off the rails I was then, ok? Didn't want you to know what I fuck up I was." He takes my hand and kisses my palm. "And even I know it's a shit move to pitch woo at someone by telling them about banging half of Boston."

I make a face at him, and he laughs.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought."

His hands rest on my waist.

"Christ, everything about that year's a bit fuzzy, and it was like 10 years ago. Sometimes it feels like it happened to someone else, honestly. And shit—most of those people aren’t even around anymore. College kids who moved on and 20-somethings that grew up and moved who knows where. I used to watch Amber have—what is it when it’s four people?—and now she lives in bumblefuck Pennsylvania with 3 kids. After she left, I just kinda drifted away from all that."

He shrugs, his eyes downcast.

"I’m sorry, Mare," I say as I smooth his eyebrows.

He shrugs again.

"I mean, we all kinda keep in touch. It's like the only reason I have Facebook."

"When was the last time you even signed into that?"

Mary grins at me.

"Lola's birthday."

"One of the models? What happened with them?"

Mary bites his lip and thinks.

"Mayhem found religion after an OD and kinda ghosted everyone. Lesley followed a girl to New Hampshire. Uh…Lola pursued a PhD for something sciencey involving renewable energy with sugar beets in Idaho, and Bryan moved back to Florida to care for his grandma, who raised him."

Mary leans his head back on the couch and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"I mean, shit. We were fucking babies back then. Head empty except for a good time and unlimited potential."

I run my fingers through his hair.

"You miss it?"

His eyes pop open to look at me.

"Fuck no. Not for a million dollars. Too many question marks." His eyes glint as he runs his hands down me. "I like what I got going on right here."

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss his forehead. The fucking sap.

Mary picks up my phone and scrolls through the pictures again.

"Fuck. I used to be goddamn adorable, though. Half this shit wouldn’t even fit me anymore."

I squish his little potbelly, and he grunts at me indignantly.

"Do you still have any originals?" I ask.

He shakes his head, his eyes wistful and his smile sad.

"Nah. Got destroyed when my roof collapsed and leaked everywhere. Fuck, landlords are useless. Glad we fucking own now, babe."

He scrolls up, scrolls back down.

"Just these four?"

I nod.

"Yeah. They were the only ones I found—and I did a lot of searching."

"Christ, I think there were at least 10."

I smile ruefully at him. "It’s not gonna be long anyway before they make their way into the popular tags and shit starts coming out of the woodwork."

He tosses my phone onto the table.

"Whatever. Just shows that I’ve always been cool."

And then he’s kissing me again, his hand tangling in my hair.

"You know, I’m your family now, Mare. Just for you."

He brings my hand up and kisses it.

"Fuck, I know that. Why’dja think I put a ring on it?"

#mary goore #longfic #gender neutral insert #aurelio voltaire

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lets-get-kraken-boys · 4 years

Text

FatGum (Taishiro Toyomitsu) X Chubby! Confectioner/Baker! Reader: Sweets and Treats~

(Description: Woo, I’m so excited for my first story on this account! This inspiration came to me after thinking about our one and only, favorite chubby pro hero and me wanting to see some puppy love for you two. Also, the title says Confectioner/Baker, I want to clarify that Reader isn’t truly a baker but I feel like “Confectioner” wouldn’t reach as large of a crowd as “Baker” would, not a big deal but just FYI. I hope my first fic is enjoyed by those who choose to read, thank you for the support.)

Fanfiction Lingo

(Y/N) - Your Name

(H/C) - Hair Color

(E/C) - Eye Color

(F/C) - Favorite Color

“Normal speech.”

‘Inner thoughts.’

Requester: No One!

Reader Gender: Female (She/Her)

Style of Story: Oneshot // Entirely fluff, a pinning love on both ends, and a happy end to boot! There is one little heartbreak moment, but it’s over in a second.

Word Count: 4.5K Words

WARNING(s): None, unless you see adorable, tooth-rotting fluff as a crime!

“Morning, Tammy! Lovely day, isn’t it?” you greeted your employee with a bright smile as she stumbled through the door into your bakery.

She huffed, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, “Sure, but I’ve hardly been up long enough to notice it. How are you always so peppy this early?” She pointed to the mechanical clock ticking from the left wall that read ‘4:04 AM’. You glanced outside and saw hardly anyone walking through the streets, except the occasional drunkard or lonely soul.

You bashfully shrugged your shoulders, “Well, after years of suffering waking up at three in the morning, you kinda get used to the torment! But, hey, so happy we got the shop far away from the center of the city, you can actually see the sunrise from here!” you tried to help her look on the bright side as you handed her one a cup of one of your homemade coffee brews. She took a sip of the drink and let out a content sigh through her nose, a small, but thankful smile on her face.

“You know, for being a confectioner, you make some pretty solid coffee. What is that?” her eyebrows furrowed as she asked, taking another swig to figure out the secret intense flavor.

You giggled, “That’s probably the nutmeg I added. Is it good?”

“More like fantastic, (Y/N). Trying out new recipes again?” she asked over her shoulder, hanging up her light jacket that protected her from the early morning breeze while grabbing her apron. Though, it being July in Japan, she probably wouldn’t need it again for a while.

“Yeah, I think this one will really please the early risers. It gives a special sort of kick to the taste, don’t you think?” you asked while gently sliding open the glass case that held all of the beautifully decorated pastries, grabbing a pair of tongs and a small floral ceramic plate, carefully placing a fresh Apple Strudel onto the plate, and setting it down on the counter.

“Totally. Hey, can I have a--,” Tammy stopped mid-sentence as she turned around to see the delectable treat already waiting for her.

“Your breakfast awaits, m’lady~,” you slurred out in a fake British accent with a cheesy smirk and a dramatic bow.

She scoffed, “You dork. Am I really that predictable?” she asked, scarfing down the pastry in a matter of seconds as she leaned on the counter.

“Yeah, you kinda are,” you joked as she playfully shoved your plush side.

“You know,” she continued, looking down at the gooey food, “It’s a shame you aren’t more popular with the people. You have a great location, an amazing personality and work staff, if I do say so myself, and don’t even get me started on the incredible stuff you make,” she praised.

“Oh, stop it, Tammy. You’re gonna make me blush,” you flushed from her sincere words, “Besides, I’ve only been open for two weeks, it’s going to be slow for awhile. It’ll ramp up eventually.”

“Yeah, I guess, but you can’t deny that your baked goods are better than most of the others in the country! One day, when people get their heads out of their asses, these little gifts of magic are going to make you RICH!” she threw her lanky airs up into the air and around your shoulders. She spun your smaller frame in a circle while the two of you laughed.

“Ha! Yeah yeah, I know! Now, stop your messing around and come help me fill the rest of these Cream Horns.” you concluded while you pat her taller shoulder. She groaned at the request but gave you a tiny nod. Tammy turned around while tying her short, brown hair into a messy bun, readying herself for the busy day ahead. You smiled while she retreated to the kitchen but before you went to follow her you decided to look out the window again.

Shuffling your legs over to the windows, you got a clear view of the rising sun and all its glory, the hints of yellow, orange, pink, red, and even blue from the night's previous dark veil still clung onto the brightening sky. Somehow you had this weird feeling that today something life changing was going to happen. You didn’t know if you should be excited or worried, but you decided to push those thoughts aside and continue on to the back of the shop where you could already hear the clutter and clang of falling pans, no doubt Tammy’s handy work.

Oh, if you only knew how right your hunch was…

~ Timeskip to a little later in the day and a P.O.V change to FatGum ~

“How much longer do I have for patrol?” I asked myself, pulling out my phone to check the time. The time read ‘9:12 AM’ and I huffed, still a couple more hours to go. Putting the device back in my pocket with a grimace but quickly faked a smile as I continued down the bustling street. The active community, excited civilians, and eager children usually never fails to put a smile on my face, but today everything just felt like a drag. I was sluggish, unfocused, and I couldn’t understand why. I shook my head, get your head in the game, Taishiro. You don’t have time to let your mind wander on duty.

After what seemed like hours, but was more than likely only 15 minutes, I felt my stomach let out a rumbling growl which made me groan. I stopped walking on the sidewalk and took a second to consider the situation, wandering the city for a couple of hours with nothing too exciting to do really works up an appetite, and I do need to keep up my strength. I’m a hero after all, and denying myself is like ignoring my civic duty to protecting the people! At this point, I’ll take any excuse to get out of this pointless shambling. But the REAL question is, what to get? I glanced around the street and noticed a few shops further down the block that looked to be food related. I smirked, perfect.

I wove through the few people occupying the area, past a few excited teenagers who asked for autographs, and eventually made it to the shops. Looking around I saw some insurance shops, an enticing Pad Thai sit down, and few others, but the one that caught my eye was a cutesy, (F/C)-painted bakery named, “Queen of Tarts”. Chuckling at the interesting name choice, I looked inside the establishment through the plexiglass windows.

The inside carried a light, fluffy atmosphere, pastel colored walls combining with the checkered tile floor caused a small smile out of me. A few small tables with delicate iron chairs here and there, but the real prize were the copious amounts of sweets that were displayed in the glass cases. Each were different colors, sizes, but they all looked delicious. Feeling my stomach grumble, I grabbed the door handle, flung it open, and walked into the scrumptious smelling shop. After walking in, the tiny jingle of bells alerting the workers of my presence, I finally saw the most stunning sweet of all.

“Hi, welcome to the Queen of Tarts, how may I help you today?” the gorgeous woman at the counter asked but it didn’t register in my brain because I was already lost in thought. Her adorable (H/C) hair framed her face to show her soft, chubby cheeks, her eyes glistened in the sunlight, and her smile, oh, it completely lit the room with its radiance. Curves in all the right places, I felt my cheeks heat up as I let out a nervous laugh, cursing my inner self for not holding it together. Seriously, I can face the nastiest of villains but throw one pretty lady in front of me and I fall apart? Fantastic. Realizing I wasn’t answering, I quickly stepped forward and cleared my throat.

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” ‘Wow, so smooth, Taishiro,’ I criticized in my head, “I...haven’t seen this store here before, you new?” I offered a smile, which she returned tenfold, making me even more flustered.

“Yes, actually! I set up shop here only a few weeks ago, finally settling in with the hustle and bustle of city life.” she finished, leaning in closer against the marble counter with her arms crossed.

“City life? You didn’t grow up here?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “Grew up on more of the countryside style of life. I love the city though, do you?”

“Yeah, you gotta get used to it when you spend all your time protecting it.” I let a hint of boasting attitude out, hoping she’d realize who I am.

“Ha, I hear ya! I do my own share of ‘protecting’ around here too. Well, if you count making goodies, that is.” she giggled, standing up and walking over to the glass containers. I deflated a little, guess that wasn’t going to work this time. I shuffled over to where she was standing and looked down at the treats they offered.

“So, kind stranger, what is it you’ll be having?” she asked after a minute of me inspecting the pastries. The problem with not being picky about what you eat, means there are tons of more options than that of others, and when all the items look equally as delectable, you get a little overwhelmed. Plus, the fact that a beautiful woman whom I would very much like to not embarrass myself in front of is waiting for my answer doesn’t help.

I gulped, “I don’t know, they all look amazing. What’s your favorite?” I asked, hoping to know a little more about her.

“Oh, gosh, let me think…” she pouted, resting her head on the palm of her hand while looking deep in thought at the treats. The adorable crease of her eyebrows scrunched together, the tip of her tongue poking out in concentration, her lovely, curvalicious body...that’s it, I’m so screwed.

“I think I’d go for the Chocolate Cream Puff,” her answer drawing both me and her out of our distracted states, “My dad taught me years ago this amazing chocolate ganache recipe and I drizzle that all over the tops of homemade pastry puffs and the whipped filling, ugh! It’s to die for, seriously!” she finished, a sparkle in her (E/C) eyes that fueled the fire in my gut. She spoke about food just as passionately as I did! She’s perfect.

Without thinking, I quickly said, “I’ll take ten.”

~ (Y/N) P.O.V ~

“Alright, there you go, 10 Chocolate Cream Puffs. Have a wonderful day, sir!” I said with a bright smile.

“Please, call me Taishiro. And you are..?” he asked.

I flushed, I’m such a klutz, “(Y/N), pleasure to meet you, Taishiro. I hope you enjoy them and come back to visit m...us! Come visit us again!” I hastily fixed my wording.

As he smiled and waved goodbye, I rolled the tension out of my shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief. It’s okay, he was nice...and cute...and...really handsome. Wow, I am I sweating?

“HOLY CRAP!” I jumped as I heard Tammy squeal out behind me, I spun around to look at her standing in the doorway to the back, watching the leaving guest with an awestruck face.

“What?! Where’s the fire?!” I shouted running up to her, grabbing the edge of my apron.

“(Y/N), look at me,” she grabbed my shoulders and forced me to stare into her hazel eyes, “Do you know who that was?”

I shrugged my shoulders as best as I could under her vice grip, “A customer, right?”

“A custom--ugh, curse you for not keeping up with the media,” she yelled while flinging her arms to the sky in exasperation before shoving them back on my shoulders, “(Y/N), that wasn’t just any old customer! That was the FatGum!”

I blinked, “Uh, who?”

“Aarrghh! The rank 58 Pro Hero in Japan! What did you say to him?!” I paled as her words sunk in. My legs felt like jelly and I wanted to lie on the floor and die of embarrassment as she raved on about my ignorance.

‘Oh, so I’ve fallen for a Pro Hero. Awesome.’

~ Timeskip to a few weeks later, same P.O.V ~

Who knew meeting a Pro Hero and potentially having a crush on him could be so amazing? After Taishiro, who is apparently a hero named FatGum, left the store, he personally posted on his main platform of media about the shop and how incredible the desserts were! Of course, to get a compliment from a hero who's Quirk is literally based around food, who’s eaten hundreds of thousands of different dishes, for him to specifically point out your’s brought the media swarming. Business went from nearly dead to tons of people coming in at all open hours! It was fantastic, and the handsome gentleman kept his promise of continually coming in and buying heaps of pastries.

You sighed, leaning against the marble counter after helping a few beautiful ladies buy some tarts, watching their desirable, attractive forms leave the shop and walk past the window. Looking around the busy lounge area, all of the customers were stunning, unique, and most of all thin. You glanced down at yourself, insecurities filling your mind about your appearance and unsurprisingly flickering back to the man plaguing your thoughts. You poked the chub, would he? No. He probably already has someone and even if he didn’t, why would he go for you? You’re a no one to him, someone who just sells him baked goods to fuel his Quirk, nothing more.

“Hey, boss man, what’s up?” Asher, a friend and employee of yours, asked while spinning you away from the counter to face him, drawing Tammy’s attention from her place on the stool behind the counter.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Asher. Just distracted is all, I’m fine!” you sighed and faked a smile.

Asher pulled a skeptical look and without looking at Tammy he said, “She’s thinking about him again, isn’t she?”

Tammy, like it was her sixth sense to pick up on gossip, flung herself to Asher’s side with the same skeptical look, “Yep, it’s so obvious.”

“I-It is?!” you yelped, pulling your hands up to your cheeks to hide your growing blush.

“What are we gonna do about them, Tam?” he asked, still not looking at her but instead grabbing your chin and tiling your head from side to side to inspect you.

“I don’t know what else to do, Ash. He so likes her back but both are too scared to make the first move. Truly a dilemma.” she said, twirling a lock of your (H/C) hair.

“Wait, he does?! How do you know?” you pleaded but they weren’t paying any attention to you anymore, making you puff out your pudgy cheeks in frustration. Opting to ignore them, you listened to the aimless chatter of the seating area. The ambiance of the confectionery made you smile because it was exactly how you’d pictured it as a little girl, the sweet smells, the laughter, it finally felt like home after all these years in the making. All your hard work was paying off in the end. Suddenly, the ringing bells of the door opening drew your attention. Glancing back, you caught a glimpse of a familiar yellow and orange clad figure whose head almost touched the ceiling. You gasped and shoved your friends off of you and to the backroom, spun around, and greeted your favorite customer with a bashful smile.

“Taishiro! How lovely to see you again,” but you quickly noticed it wasn’t just him. Two teenage boys, one with striking red hair and a warm smile and the other trembling and hiding inside of his cloak’s hood, were by FatGum’s side, which made you ask, “And who is this with you?”

“(Y/N), this is Eijirou Kirishima and Tamaki Amajiki, they are training under me for hero internships. I wanted to bring them here so they could try your wicked sweets!” he finished, making you blush even harder.

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you, FatGum! It’s a pleasure to meet you, boys.” you finished, holding out your hand for them to shake.

The red-headed boy, Kirishima, shook your hand with a gentle, but strong grip, “Same here! I’ve heard all about this place because of the news, sorry I couldn’t come sooner!”

“Oh, that’s alright, and it’s wonderful to meet you, Tamaki.” you held out your hand, but all you got from him was a curt nod as he shrunk further into his suit.

“You’ll have to forgive, Amajiki, he’s sort of shy.” Taishiro chuckled, rubbing his hand behind his head.

You pulled your hand back with an understanding smile, “No problem, I totally get social anxiety. Happens to the best of us, I’m afraid.”

“No way,” you suddenly heard Tammy mumble behind you, no doubt to Asher, “He brought his kids to see her. Did not expect that. I respect the flex.”

“Isn’t that a little far for first base material?” Asher whispered back to her. You proceeded to shoot them a terrifying glare and subtly kick both of them in the shins, a symbol for them to scram. They gulped and hobbled off to the back to avoid your wrath while you huffed and whipped your hair out of your face with a smile.

“Anyways, since the three of you are here, what would you boys like? It’s on the house!” you confidently boasted.

Taishiro gasped, “(Y/N), no. I can’t do that to you, we’ll pay.”

“Ah, ah, ah, Taishiro. You are by far the most paying of customers and since you’re my favorite of all I want to give this to you. Call it, uh, thank you present for all the publicity you’ve given my store! I couldn’t have made it this far without you.” you grinned.

He sighed and, though it could have been your imagination, blushed a little, “At least let me pay for my portion. I get considerably more than them.”

“Nope, it’s already been decided! Kirishima, what would you like?” you changed the topic before Taishiro could argue with you again. He rolled his eyes, clear girl.

“Hmm,” Kirishima thought, “Do you have anything with strawberries?”

“I got just the thing for you. How about a Strawberry Turnover?” you directed him over to the case with the pastry. He took one glance and excitedly nodded his head and you smiled, grabbed the sweet with a clean pair of tongs, placed it on a napkin, and handed it over to the young man. He grinned and shoveled the pastry into his mouth without hesitation.

“Thanks so much, Miss (Y/N)! It’s delicious!” he praised through a mouth full of food, making you giggle at his silliness. Walking back over to the registrar, you saw Tamaki looking at you. When he was caught, he gasped, quickly spun around, and hid himself away from you by pressing into FatGum’s body.

“What would you like, Tamaki?” you patiently asked. Taishiro looked at you with doubt and started saying something but you quickly shushed him and continued to wait for the teen’s answer.

Knowing that you weren’t going to give up, Tamaki quietly mumbled out, “D-D-Do you...have anything with...b-black raspberry? I-If you don’t that’s fine too, I-I didn’t mean to sound too rude or--”

“I believe I do,” you quickly interrupted so he didn’t go into a spiraling haze of self doubt, “Would a Black Raspberry Lychee Cake suffice, Tamaki?”

“Y-Yes, Miss (Y/N)...” he sighed in relief, glancing at you with tears in his eyes. You gave him a reassuring smile and grabbed the treat for him, handing it to FatGum so he could hold on to it for Tamaki.

“And now, what’ll you have, kind stranger?” you grinned as he chuckled.

“I’ll take my usual then, 10 Chocolate Cream Puffs, please.” he concluded while giving a sweet grin.

You snarked, “You always get the same thing every time, Taishiro. Don’t you wanna try anything else? I promise they’re poisoned.” you smirked.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, “Are you sure about that?” he joked.

“Taishiro! What kind of business would I be if I poisoned all my guests?” you laughed at him.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try something different, ma’am. Do you have anything with pineapple?” he asked with curiosity.

“You betcha. How does a Pineapple Poke Cake sound, sir?” you interrogated. You saw stars glisten in his eyes and you giggled at his excitement.

“How many?” you joked.

“I’ll take 12!” he concluded, blissfully staring off into space.

You packaged up his request in a cutesy (F/C) box with your confectionery’s logo and, biting your lip in apprehension, decided that if he wasn’t going to make his move then you would. You quickly wrote down your phone number on top of the box in Sharpie and signed off your name with a small black heart. As you finished the lettering you stared at the box and thought about your previous insecurities. There was still time, still time to take out the pastries, put them in a new box, and forget the whole number thing ever happened.

“Hey, don’t you dare take out those treats and put them in a new box, you hear me, girl?!” you heard a tiny male voice whisper above you. Startled, you looked up to see Tammy and Asher peeking through the window that let the customers see into the back of the bakery to watch the baking happen. You glared at the two, so they had been watching you try and confess your feelings to the fluffy hero in a discreet way.

“What am I supposed to do? What if he doesn’t like me and all the signs I’ve been getting from him are me making up a love story that is never going to happen between us?! What if by doing this I ruin our relationship and he makes sure the business tanks?! This is my life's work and I’m putting it on the line for a stupid chance at love!” you whisper yelled at them, the familiar feeling of fear and pain coursing through your system from previous failed love confessions.

“You really think a sweet man like that is going to make your life’s dream completely fall to pieces?” Tammy questioned and you exhaled, shaking your head ‘no’.

“Then go out there and get yo mans! You have to at least try and snatch that, I have to see my OTP become canon!” she sent a determined glare at you, grabbed the box, shoved it in your hands, spun you around, and pushed your forward. You stumbled and almost tripped onto the floor but caught yourself on the marble counter. Standing up tall, you took a deep breath in and urged your legs to move forward. Getting to the registrar, you smiled at Taishiro and the boys and handed over the box to FatGum after giving a subtle cough.

“Thank you for everything, Taishiro, you’ve helped me in ways you could never imagine. Now, I hope you boys come back sometime!” you spoke to the teens, Kirishima grinning at you with his shark-like teeth.

“Will do, Miss (Y/N)! I couldn’t stay away from this place even if I tried, your desserts are the BOMB!” he laughed, punching his fists together in excitement.

“...Thank you, Miss (Y/N).” Tamaki shyly whispered, giving you half a grin before cowering away once more.

“Don’t mention it, loves! Now, Taishiro, remember that I said this is on the--whoa! Are you okay?” you asked the man. His face was almost as red as his student’s hair, his eyes wide and unfocused as he stared at the top of the box, where your number neatly sat. You gulped, maybe it was the wrong decision after all.

Waving a nervous hand in front of Taishiro’s face, it seemed to break him from his spellbound state as he glanced at your eyes, “Are you...feeling okay, Taishiro?”

He looked at you with a shaken gaze as he laughed off his nerves while saying, “Y-Yeah! Just, um...yeah...you...let’s go, boys! Gotta get back to the patrol! Bye, (Y/N)!” he said while ushering the confused boys away from the counter and to the door. You felt your heart shatter into dozens of pieces as you turned your head down to conceal your sorrowed expression from the rest of the lounge area. You felt your eyes wet with tears but you used the sleeve of your white button down you dry them, you have to stay strong. At least you got it off your chest. Sniffling, you turned your head back up only to see FatGum’s face, only he was suddenly a lot more chiseled in the face and body and wow, did it just get hot in here?

“I forgot one thing.” he said with a flustered smile. You, less heartbroken then before just more confused, shrugged your shoulders in question. He then grasped your shoulders, tilted his head to the side, and planted a loving and firm kiss on your right cheek. You felt your face melt into a puddle of red as he held the kiss for a few seconds longer than anticipated but eventually released your cheek, staring back at you with the same expression as you.

“Did you really think I was going to leave without paying you back, cream puff?” he chuckled with a grin.

“I-I, um…” no longer sorrowed, your brain couldn’t catch up with the fact that he most definitely liked you back.

“Heh, you’re cute when you’re flustered for me. I’ll text you later, okay? Keep on the look out for me!” he said, backing up from the counter, only to grow immensely in size as he returned to the state you had met the hero in. He waved goodbye as he walked back to Kirishima who was practically bouncing off the walls in his excitement.

“Congratulations on the relationship, Miss (Y/N)!” the teen sang out as the three of them left the store to patrol the streets for their hero duties once again.

The entire restaurant was silent as they watched your chubby form turn into a puddle of emotions and ditzy giggles, the only thing that was heard was a loud, “YES! IT’S CANON, BABY!”

~ The End ~

#mha #bnha #mha oneshot #fluff #fanfiction #oneshot #taishiro toyomitsu #fatgum #x reader #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #fatgum x reader #kirishima #eijirou kirishima #tamaki #tamaki amajiki #chubby #chubby reader #x chubby reader #x baker reader

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Prey ︱ Yandere Keigo Takami x f!Reader

@theladyshinigami asked: “Hello! First of all, I've been looking for an account like yours for a long ass time, so thank you for existing. Second, may I request a yandere Hawks pinning for a foreigner with a siren quirk that can hypnotize people when she sings? Thanks again”

a/n: thanks for the request babes! hope you like how this turned out!

warnings: swearing, drugging, mild violence, mention of mutilation

2.9k words

It had been no surprise when the people around you deemed your future to be damned after hearing about your quirk.

Like the mythical siren, you could hypnotize people just by singing to them. It put them under a trance, allowing you to do whatever you saw fit with their mindless bodies. As much as you knew it would be more honourable to take the high road and contain your abilities, the potential it held was too great to pass up.

Now, you weren’t a ruthless killer or anything of the sort. No—you simply used your abilities every so often on the unsuspecting lowlife who probably deserved a little bad luck. Almost like a vigilante of sorts.

For the longest time your actions went unnoticed. You were smart—never staying in one place for too long. The fruits of your labor even brought you to different countries.

But good things could only last for so long, and much to your dismay—a certain avian hero picked up on your actions.

In any other case, this would’ve meant the end of your less than honourable career. But instead, the man you came to know as Hawks chose to turn a blind eye to your antics. You should be grateful—your slip up didn’t end with you in prison.

But the reality you faced now was by no means preferable.

Since being initially caught in the act, you could feel an almost constant looming presence above you. Distant, but there nonetheless. You never actually saw anything that would hint at a shadow, but the blanketed weight of instinct was undeniable. Most notably so was when you were forced to lure in unsuspecting criminals to make ends meet.

A once simple and painless task was now something you dreaded.

The crimson vale of feathers would flash before you, their owner taking a stance when you had the job done. By then you’d swiped any necessary valuables from your latest victim—but that never seemed to bother him. Like the visible vacantness of any belongings from them wasn’t a problem whatsoever, the winged hero would tie up your loose ends. Even said you were helping him out, despite your assistance not exactly being legal.

It lasted like that for a long time. Slowly, you grew to hate the means in which you kept yourself on your feet. Not because your sense of morals were shifting to hold concern for those unfortunate enough to be caught in your sights. Rather, it was because of the sights you were caught in.

Those narrowed and piercing—searching eyes always found you in your worst times. And his attitude, it was enough to give you an aneurism. So nonchalant with his dismissal of your behaviour, such a thing that goes against everything he stands for.

But perhaps, this should’ve been the first red flag that showed you he wasn’t the hero everyone knew him to be—something you were supposed to pick up on and use it to your advantage.

You didn’t have time for that though. It was more important to simply erase his taunting words and carelessly intrusive behaviour from your mind for the sake of your sanity. That, and you were much more concerned with making your next move—one that’d hopefully lead you out of the country.

Or at least far enough away from Hawks.

The back and forth to the pawn shop wasn’t the most enjoyable outing, but it was necessary. You could sense that the owners were at least a little suspicious of how much you frequented their establishment—especially given the items you’d exchanged.

Thankfully, the shop was on the bad side of town, meaning they were quite used to people like yourself. Slowly but surely, the stash you kept hidden in a floor vent in your shambly apartment grew steadily. It wasn’t much at first, but as of late you were making a point to be increasingly active with your efforts.

Everything finally came down to one night—you being immensely grateful to your recent catch. The old man was practically dripping with sin, along with undeserved riches to boot. You’d followed him from the luxurious nightclub, where you knew some less than honourable individuals did depraved things to the vulnerable.

It was just your luck—the man was mind numbingly drunk, stumbling back and forth on his feet in an attempt at a walk in a straight line.

While your quirk wouldn’t get rid of his uneasiness, it would give him more motivation to make his way towards a certain direction. One that led him right into your hands, along with his overpriced belongings.

The deed was done in less than a minute—speed being essential in not getting caught. But you weren’t the only one who held that strength to a high standard. Just as you were pocketing the last of his trinkets, you glanced upwards towards the pitch black night sky. Your eyes focused on the abyssal expanse for a few seconds—now was about the time you’d expect the crimson of his wings to grace your presence. It’d be followed by his unbearably confident remarks, and the frustrating way he’d disregard you as a threat.

But the last minute arrival never came. For the first time since you met him, Hawks didn’t show up to court off your latest prey to the police. Frankly, you didn’t mind it.

The man would never know it was you anyways, you being safe enough to keep your face hidden from prying eyes. It just meant you could return home, one very successful haul in tow with complete peace befalling your mind. No dealing with Hawks’ irritating antics—just a quiet walk back all by yourself.

Naturally, the night’s events had you in high spirits. If your calculations were correct, this would be just enough for your stash to equal out to an amount sufficient enough to get you moving again.

The thought brought a smile to your face, and with a spring in your step you trailed back to the cheap and small apartment complex you called your temporary home.

Every time you opened the front door you cringed at the sound of rusty metal rubbing together on the hinges. Now was no different as you shut the rickety frame back into its closed position, sliding the lock into place.

Removing your shoes with a sigh, you trudged to the back of the apartment where your bedroom was stationed. A cold breeze washed over you as you pushed the slightly ajar door open fully. The window was open, causing the curtains to sway under the wind's influence. Shivering slightly at the sensation, you threw your bag onto the bed and made your way to the worn down looking window.

The lock never worked on the damn thing, so there was never a need to care about if it was closed or not. But on a chilly night like tonight, you mentally cursed yourself for not taking more care in regarding it before you left. It got hot in the daytime, often resulting in it being left open for the most part. It’s only expected that every now and then you’d leave the damned thing like that, now mentally cursing yourself for doing so as the room’s temperature was unpleasantly low, shutting it with a thud.

You moved back towards your bed, unzipping your backpack and emptying the contents atop the duvet. Sorting things was always the most interesting part of your night—seeing just what people were willing to spend their money on. You picked up the wad of cash first, being decent enough not to just take his whole wallet. After thumbing through the stack, you took a bobby pin laying on your nightstand and clipped it over the papers, holding them all together.

In your early days of using your quirk to your advantage, you made the mistake of keeping all of your findings in one place. Call it karma, but at one point you were the one being robbed, both cash and other luxurious items going missing.

Now, you were smarter than that. Learning from your mistakes, you kept the two piles separate. At the moment, all cash was hidden in the floor vent.

Getting on your knees in front of the grating, you lifted the top off, letting the light from the room’s lamp flood into the small space.

The cash was gone.

Your hand dived into the metal-lined crevice, sweeping back and forth frantically. There was no way it could’ve fallen back further into the vent. The heating didn’t push that way, and even if it did you always kept the cash bundled—it was too heavy to be blown away out of arm's reach.

Your heart sunk into your chest, a gut wrenching despair taking hold of you.

“Looking for something?”

That voice—you knew who it belonged to before your head whipped around to face the direction it came from. Standing in the doorway to the bedroom, wings outstretched almost threateningly was the avian hero you’d come to hate.

And god, that smirk plastered across his face. He always wore it, like the damn thing was a permanent expression solidified into his being.

You stilled your actions, eyes unmoving from him. “Where’s my cash?” In a way, you could almost take pride in how you managed to keep a calm and steady voice. The rage was still there, but it was contained—for now.

Hawks moved past the doorway, casually stepping towards the closest nightstand. Like he hadn’t even heard you question, he idly picked up a framed photo—the only one you had of your home town that was thousands of miles away. You’d taken the shot at sundown, showcasing all its best features in the honeyed lighting cascading over it.

“Y’know, it’s almost impressive—the money you rake in.” He was still looking at the photo, eyes searching the minuscule details your camera picked up—one that you had to sell for some extra cash in the early days.

He set the frame down, smirk falling ever so slightly. It was the first time he looked even remotely serious—the casual leaned back stance doing nothing when you saw the dangerous glint in his eyes. ��I simply...took it upon myself to donate the cash to a better cause.”

Your blood ran cold, the constricting feeling in your chest tightening at his words. For a moment you couldn’t respond, too mortified by his statement. The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, until forcing yourself out of a stupor, you responded. “...You did what?”

In the most condescending tone of voice you’d ever heard, the winged man replied. “Hey, don’t look so surprised. I mean what were you even gonna do with it anyways?”

Still kneeling on the floor, you felt pure, seething hatred for the hero in front of you. “What was I—I was going to use it to get away from your deranged ass!”

The sound of your raised and angered voice reverberated off the walls, him paying no mind to it. “Oh, were you now?”

Almost in a lazy manner, Hawks pushed off the nightstand he was leaning on. “C’mon, you didn’t really think I’d let you get away with robbing people.” The sound of his boots hitting the floor seemed louder than they should’ve as he stalked towards your frozen form. “I mean that would be so...unheroic of me, after all.”

Even in the dim lighting of the room, his eyes were almost inhumanely bright as he looked at you like you were a piece of fresh meat.

You should’ve known this would happen. All this time spent putting together enough cash just to get yourself out of this city and far away from the man looming over you—none of it really mattering in then end.

Not if you couldn’t get out of here.

The stash of money might be gone, but you still had the belongings on your bed. They would go for a good price, and if you played your cards right it’d be enough to get you far enough away from him. It would be tight—but it’s possible.

As far as you were concerned, Hawks was no more virtuous than the lowly individuals you entranced with your quirk. It may have taken this moment to solidify it, but now you knew who he was.

Not a hero, just a man pretending to be one for his own gains.

You opened your mouth, prepared to voice whatever melody came to mind. The feeling of a hand clamping over it came before you could manage a noise, and then your back colliding with the cold hardwood.

The feeling of Hawk’s weight on your body felt crushing, rendering you completely immobilized underneath him. He had you hands pinned above your head with his free one in an almost bruising grip, you unable to move away as he sat on your hips.

“Ah ah ah—little bird.” He grunted through the words, still steady as you made some final weak attempts to throw him off before resigning to your predicament for the moment.

Hawks let a few seconds go by after you stilled, eyeing you warily in a way that you could only assume was to make sure you were fully calmed down. He let out a breathy sigh, “So, here’s how this is gonna work…”

He paused, lips upturning ever so slightly before continuing. “I’m gonna take my hand off, and if I hear so much as a peep from you, I’ll rip your fucking vocal cords out. Got it?” The casual look to his face gave a stark and disturbing contrast to his gruesome words.

You swallowed dryly, tears prickling in your eyes. He knew how much weight those words held—your quirk riding on the fact that your means of speaking were intact.

The winged man tilted his head slightly, a look of what felt like fake concern flashing across his face. “Hey, don’t go looking so scared. I don’t wanna do that, I promise.”

His words did little to ease your worries—the promise meaning absolutely nothing to you.

“Now, if you behave then maybe I’ll consider keeping you awake on the way home, okay?”

On the way home—what the fuck is he talking about?

A crease formed between your brows in confusion, mind racing from unknown sentiment. One might think you’d been running for miles with the way your heart beat was hammering inside your ribcage. But it would turn out that fear was much better at producing the same effect.

If you could manage even a second to use your quirk, he’d be done for. You shakily nodded your head, the grip on your face making the action somewhat difficult.

Hawks seemed pleased with your forced compliance, smirk widening in satisfaction.

“There’s my good little bird, now—”

His hand lifted from your mouth, and without hesitation you activated your quirk.

Or at least you tried.

You should’ve known, the man pinning you to the ground was notorious for being incredulously fast. So much so that you didn’t even see him move, only registering the feeling of a cloth sealing over your mouth and nose.

That smell—sickeningly sweet. Your eyes blew wide at the realization, body thrashing beneath him. Looking at him pleadingly didn’t work, especially when the tears running down your face blurred your vision. In the midst of you violently kicking and attempting to throw him off you, Hawks effortlessly dealt with the consequences to your actions.

“Don’t be like that, I tried—”

Even in your weakening state, you managed to knee him hard. But it was no more in force than a kitten scratch. It may have taken him off guard, even interrupting his train of thought, but he was still the one on top.

You knew you would have bruises later on, but that was the least of your worries right now.

“I tried to warn you, and it’s only fair that I hold up my end of the deal.”

The strenuous efforts of your resistance had you sucking in involuntary gulps of breath in exhaustion. You could feel your mind spinning, not being able to focus on any one thing in particular. It was a lightheaded sensation, you not even realizing that your limbs fell almost completely limp in his hold.

Your focus drifted away from the avian human above you, landing on the once opened bedroom window. Your eyelids felt increasingly heavy, once loudly muffled screams turning into defeated whimpers—and then silence.

Hawks released his iron hold on your wrists, leaning back with a deep and relieved sigh. The cloth was shoved back into his pocket, and he mentally thanked himself for bringing his car so he wouldn’t have to fly you back to his apartment for everyone to see.

It wasn’t the first time he regarded your sleeping form, face peaceful and distinctively not contorted with fear—and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. He’d known your caution well, seeing it in action the countless times he’d pry his eyes into your life. Whether it be from above on those late nights of you scrounging for cash, or through your window as you sifted through the stockpile of valuable collections. Always thinking that your efforts of evasion were enough.

Surely, after going so long with the same routine—laying low and moving against those who had bad luck coming when the opportunity arose—this new stop in your travels would show no need for change. Even when he made his presence obvious, you stayed set in your ways.

You didn’t deem him a threat. You thought that you were the apex predator, and he was nothing more than a scavenger reaping the rewards of your latest catch.

And now, he would teach you that no—he was the predator, and you were the prey.

#yandere bnha #yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere #yanderecore #yandere x you #yandere keigo x reader #yandere writing

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