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dreamcatcherfication · 4 years

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The Queens of London Part 6 - What Am I To Do With My Life?

Man, I wrote this at like... 1 AM and it shows, it really shows.

Hello everyone, welcome back! I know it’s been a while (2 weeks!) since I’ve posted another chapter for this fic, but I got really busy with a bunch of other stuff, so it kept getting pushed back. I know you guys are used to getting pampered with new fics coming out everyday, but I still have a lot of stuff to balance, and sometimes my longer fics get put on hold as I get things back on track. But not to worry, we’re here now, and I’m not abandoning this fic! I didn’t get to edit this chapter, so I’m going to post it unedited and I’ll go back through and edit it later today when I have time. I hope you enjoy this part and that it suffices for a 1 AM keyboard smash. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, my body is on fire and yes that can be interpreted figuratively or literally.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Depression, feelings of worthlessness, self destructive thoughts

Kat was sitting on her couch, legs curled up to her chest and a cup of hot chocolate in her hand. She was in her pajamas and her hair was a complete mess. Kat’s guitar was leaning against the wall, it’s chords unused and forgotten. After her failure with the queens, it had been impossible for Kat to find it in herself to get up and street perform during the day. She couldn’t go out and watch Jane walk by. She couldn’t perform knowing that she had let down the people who had been depending so heavily on her.

It should’ve been obvious to her this whole time. Kat knew from the start she wasn’t a queen, nor was she a lady. She was in way over her head, that much had always been clear. But after the party at Henry’s house, it was practically spelled out in glittering letters for Kat. She didn’t belong. Never had, never would. Plain and simple. So why should she try?

The depressive haze had taken over Kat’s body as she sat in a ball on the couch, her eyes blankly staring at the wall. She didn’t have a television, so all she could look at was the moldy walls that housed her. It was disgusting to her, the life she lived, but it was all she had. To believe, even for a second, that she could trade it for fancy suits and lavish parties…

Kat was naive to think anything would change. She knew better now. She knew that she couldn’t keep this charade up, and she certainly wasn’t cut out to be a queen. Not now, not ever.

The knock on the door wasn’t enough to shake Kat out of her blank staring. She didn’t answer it, choosing to stay silent and still. There was rustling on the other side of the door before the lock clicked and it opened up.

Walking into the room with a small bag, Anne frowned at Kat’s appearance. “Kat, why are you in your pajamas, we got a meeting tonight?”

Shrugging, Kat barely reacted to Anne’s question. She hummed something noncommittal and squeezed herself tighter into a ball. “Kat, come on,” Anne set the bag down and moved over to her cousin. “You can’t just wallow here for eternity.”

“Yes I can,” Kat mumbled before groaning and unfurling herself. “Just go away Anne.”

Sitting down on the couch, Anne flicked some lint off the crusty plush furtniture. “I’m not going to leave you here alone. Tell me what’s up?”

Dropping her eyes, Kat sighed. Without looking in Anne’s eyes, she answered, “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

Not believing it for a second, Anne moved closer to the teen. “Come on, I can tell that something’s up. You can tell me.” “Why?” Kat glared at her own hands defensively. “So you can make fun of me?”

“I won’t make fun of you,” Anne argued, almost putting her hand on Kat’s back but thinking better of it. “Promise. Cross my heart.”

Kat didn’t trust Anne’s words, but she spilled anyway. “I’m a failure. I let you and the others down. I haven’t belonged here since day one and I’ve only made things worse and harder for you all. I shouldn’t be here.”

Letting the words bounce off her, Anne huffed. “Come on now, that’s not true. We knew from the start it would be hard, none of this is your fault. And I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Anne paused dramatically before continuing, “None of us belong. None of us are really friends - except Cathy and Aragon, and each of our ladies. We’re all struggling Kat, not just you.”

Anne’s confession made Kat feel slightly better, but it was still overshadowed by her fear and doubt. “But at least you all have a reason, a motivation. Something important that you contribute. I’m nobody.”

“And yet you’re perfect,” Anne assured her. “When you watch a spy movie, does the government pick that famous billionaire or the naive looking ‘newbie’ to go undercover.”

Kat shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to see a spy movie.”

“Okay -” Anne reiterated, “What I’m trying to say is being ‘nobody’ is exactly what we need. You’re practically invincible if you can’t be tracked down. You’re special Kat, far more special than any of us.”

The words sunk into Kat’s skin, even though she tried to keep them out. Kat wanted to say that she was worthless, because it was easier to hate herself than to look into Anne’s eyes and believe her promises. “I’m going to quit.” The forcefulness of her statement surprised Kat herself, but she held firm. Even when Anne gave her a pleading face, Kat didn’t budge. “I’m going to tell them the truth and I’m going to quit.”

Scrambling for a reply, Anne stood up. “At least come to tonight's meeting. Sit through the meeting and make your decision by the end. If you still want to back out, then I won’t stop you. But please, at least think about staying?”

Kat nodded, although internally she had already made up her mind. There was no way she was going to let the queens convince her to stay. Standing up to go change out of her pajamas, Kat froze a few steps away from Anne. “What’s in the bag you brought?”

“Hmm?” Anne turned her head to the bag. “Oh, nothing much. Just some food I bought from Tescos for you.”

Biting her lip, Kat went into her room and grabbed a change of clothes. She muttered lowly enough that Anne couldn’t hear, “I don’t need your pity,” as she got ready.

The familiar table sent shivers up Kat’s spine as Aragon went over the recap of the failed party. Kat was drowning out the woman’s voice, her shoulders hunched in as she waited for it to end. It felt like all the women were staring at her, blaming her for what had happened. It was all too much, but Kat wouldn’t let herself break down in front of them. She would keep her Katherine Brandon facade for one more night, and then it would end.

“We’ve got some news,” Joan spoke up when Aragon was done. “Maria’s been spending some time creating a code, and she’s finally ready to share.”

Maria made her way to the head of the table and set her hands down. “Yesterday we only had a single earpiece for Cathy, but Maggie’s been making sure we get them for each and every one of you. It took some time, but I’ve figured out the best way we can interact with each other using these. It’s going to seem quite simple, but it’s actually extraordinary. You see, each of you are assigned a number, and with those numbers, we and your fellow queens can contact you.”

“Interesting,” Anna stuck out her bottom lip in appreciation.

Leaning forward, Jane asked, “So what are our numbers?”

“Very basic,” Maria explained, “Aragon is one.” The CEO nodded. “Anne is two.”

Blanching, Anne rocked in her seat. “Really, I’m second to Aragon?”

Narrowing her eyes, Maria shook her head. “It’s not a contest of who’s better. The numbers are a timeline. You’re all arranged in the order in which you met Henry.”

Freezing, Kat set her eyes on the table. She was being put in this pattern that didn’t even apply to her. She was going to mess it up in a matter of minutes when she revealed herself. Anne shot Kat a glance across the table, but the girl missed it. “Three, Jane Seymour.” There was no reaction on Jane’s face, but behind her eyes there was a flash of pain. Maria continued, “Four, Anna.” The German woman tipped an imaginary hat. “Five, Kat.”

Acting like she had expected it in the first place, Kat nodded not particularly caring about her number. She would be five for five minutes, and then it wouldn’t matter. “And Cathy, number six. Whenever we address you in code, it will be using these numbers,” Maria finished.

“Sounds good to me,” Cathy affirmed. “I think that’s the last thing we had planned for tonight. If anyone has anything else to share, please do.”

Nervously, Anne watched Kat. The teen was psyching herself up, preparing for her admittal. Opening her mouth, Kat’s opening words were drowned out by Anna’s much stronger voice. “Actually, I do.”

“Anna,” Bessie warned as if she knew what was about to happen.

Shutting her mouth, Kat let the other woman talk first. “I was delivering a suit to Henry this morning, checking up on him after the party. He had a terrible hangover and straight up told Bessie and me that he’s going to be stuck at his office from tomorrow night through the morning.”

Standing up as well, Aragon scratched her nails on the table. “Did he seem suspicious of you at all?”

“Not one bit,” Anna spoke proudly. “We’re safe, for now. It didn’t even seem like he remembered anything from last night, so Kat’s still in the perfect position to sneak in and get the evidence we need. We aren’t finished.”

Breath hitching, Kat watched her hands. Her cover wasn’t blown? She could still… she could still do her job? If there was any way she could make up for what she ruined… “I’m in,” Kat shot up out of her chair, making a split second decision.

Anne’s mouth opened in shock when she saw Kat’s determination return to her eyes. Kat wasn’t done yet. “That’s good, because we’ll need you now more than ever,” Anna addressed Kat.

“What exactly are you saying Anna?” Jane questioned.

Smirking, Anna cracked her knuckles. “I’m saying it’s time for some good old fashioned breaking and entering.”

--------------------------------------------

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree @boleynhowards @annabanana2401 @babeebobo @dont-lose-your-queerhead @everything-insanity @mindless-pidgeon @i-wanna-dance-and-sing-six @thedemidisaster @its-totes-gods-will @thatbolxyngirl @thenameisnoone @sixqueendom

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aerascreamer · 4 years

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Only if I’m with you

A Miragehound fic

Fandom: Apex Legends

Genre: Slice of life (?)

Word count: 1343

Warnings: A little bit of angst but mostly cuteness and comfort!

Additional note: My first fanfic for the Apex Fandom !! I hope you’ll like and maybe consider checking my ao3 and wattpad (@ aerascreamer) (I didn’t post this fic on these accounts but if you want, I’ll be glad to do it!)

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

The dropship landed on the small spaceport next to the Legends' dormitory.

Octane burst out of the exit without waiting, followed a few meters behind by Gibraltar and Wraith.

Everyone joined the building by groups of three or four, Crypto being the usual exception.

When he finally got out, Mirage stretched his arm to greet the bright sun and the clear azure sky.

"Oh, sweet home! Good to see you again! Talos's not bad but-"

He didn't even finish his sentence that Artur smashed on his face.

"What the- HOUND!!!"

A powerful whistle echoed in the air, forcing the crow to perch on Bloodhound's forearm, cawing.

"He's glad to see you, they translated with a serious tone

-How can you deal with him so easily? The trickster asked as he rubbed his scratched nose.

-Artur likes nobody except me, the hunter chuckled. And he can be very territorial.

-More like jealous of my perfect face!" he joked.

Bloodhound approached him and gently took Mirage's chin to examine the tiny cuts.

"It's nothing, your wounds already started to heal, they declared.

-So... Can a kiss speed up the process?" the trickster begged with puppy eyes.

The tracker let go of an amused growl and stepped towards the dormitory.

"Only if you catch me inside mo mhuirnín, they teased as they sprang.

-Come on !"

~~~

The night fell quickly and spread its darkness on the landscape.

Despite the late hour, some rooms still shined through the windows, with silhouette moving behind.

Scrolling down on his phone Elliott read some "juicy" pieces of information (as the journalists claimed) about the competitors, with ninety percent being speculations and false rumors.

Like on this page, some people said about Bloodhound that they are "fabulously wealthy" " a bloodthirsty murderer", "a Goliath whisperer", "a former slave", "half-bat"... Seriously? Half bat? Why not half-dog or half-Leviathan? Wait did that guy misgender them? And Hound never killed someone, just animals.

The trickster looks down to see his partner sleeping peacefully on his lap, inoffensive as a cat. No, the definition he would give to "bloodthirsty murderer".

He couldn't believe he was in a relationship again, especially after how the last one ended.

Even more incredible, he dated a competitor from the Apex Game while playing in this game where you basically shoot freely at each other throat.

And that competitor is none other than BLOODHOUND. Or the one who became Champion FOUR times and killed a Goliath with ONE KNIFE. HOLY F***** BALLS

But the hunter always listened to him, spend time in his company and took care of him so gently, with such patience while being the most humble person he ever met.

Elliot would often ask himself if he deserved someone like them as well as wondering how to give back the generosity Bloodhound offered to him.

But that kiss... The first one... The one where they took off their mask and pressed their soft lips on his...it brushed away all his doubts and strengthen even more his love.

"Hey birdie, wake up! I have to go now."

Bloodhound slowly sat on the couch, half-asleep, and curled back in when Elliott stepped away.

"You don't want to go to your room? he asked.

-I'm good here."

The trickster chuckled as he couldn't help but compare again his love one to a cat.

~~~

Silence.

An absolute silence ruled on the room.

And the temperature fell to the ground.

Only disturbed by the few little lights on the holo-tech devices, the darkness filled the narrow space in each of its corners.

Elliott couldn't sleep, lying on his bed eyes wide open.

Folding between his hands a corner of the blanket, his thoughts pushed each other in his mind without giving him any rest.

He sat on the edge of his bed.

A weight and a hole growing in his chest.

The world felt cold without the consent chatting of the Legends or all these sounds everyone is so used to that they fade into the background...

The TV, the people's walk, the glasses on the table, the clicks of a phone keyboard, the floor cracks, the seat movements, the kitchen growls...

Elliot felt the need to see someone... Not necessarily to talk to. Just having another person in the same room as him would be enough.

But everyone is sleeping and seemed so far from here... as if they were in another reality.

Maybe calling Mom? No, she's asleep too. Knock at Hound's door? They need to rest from the previous match... Same for Gibby, Bang, Ajay, Nat... Everyone!

H*ck, he would have spent the whole night awake with Pathy if this one didn't turn off to charge his batteries or the kid if he wasn't such a d*ck when woken up in the middle of the night.

Hesitant hits brought him back to earth.

He walked to the door, unlocked it and found Bloodhound in front of him.

Without their mask, Elliot could see the panicked expression painted on their pale face, their messy hair covering their right eye.

They nervously rubbed their finger, the short sleeves of the shirt letting their irregular scars on their arm exposed to everyone's view.

"You... You alright?" He stammered, shocked to his partner losing their composure.

They opened their mouth but couldn't say anything.

"Come in, everything is OK birdie."

Legs shaking, Bloodhound entered the bedroom, climbed on the bed and hide their face in their arm crossed over their knees.

Their chest moved up and down quickly.

"Can you breathe? Do you need your mask?" Elliott asked with worries.

One day, the hunter nearly blacked out in the middle of a gunfight because their breathing device shut down all of a sudden... He felt horrible at this moment, totally useless, only able to see his love one suffering.

Bloodhound shook their head, tightening their grip on their pant's fabric.

Elliot sat next to them, a hand on their shoulder, waiting for them (and him) to calm down.

Their breathing went back to normal slowly, the trickster's company reassuring them.

And when Bloodhound finally looked at him, he whipped out a tear holding on their eyelid.

"Feeling better?

-I guess..." Their low voice cracked "Thank you, Elli.

-No prob! I'm always here for you."

A weak smile appeared on their lips...

a smile so rare and so precious that Elliott always felt his heart melting when they appear.

This one making no exception, he wrapped his arms around their chest and pulled them closer.

Bloodhound closed their eyes and started counting the strong beats of Elliott's heart while this one brushed their silky smooth hair.

Comforted in each other's warm, the two back went back to sleep.

~~~

Elliott woke up next to Bloodhound nested against his chest.

It took him some time to first remember the event of the previous night and then calm down after seeing his partner's lovely face under the morning sunlight.

"How did I end up with someone so beautiful they seem to have been literally sent by the Gods?" he thought while rubbing their cheek.

Eyes half-closed, the hunter grabbed the trickster's wrist and intertwined their fingers.

Both remained silent and simply listened to the other breath while the outside birds began their songs.

Then Bloodhound noticed the worries that tinted their partner's eye.

"You seem troubled, they whispered.

-Well... I'm just concerned about what happened last night, he answered.

And especially what made you so upset...

But if you don't want to talk about it that's totally fine I understand!

-It was a very bad nightmare." Their eyes darkened.

"So confusing to explain... And to even remember in detail. I... I just want to forget it."

The hunter shook their head as if a bug landed on top of it, feeling again tension in their belly.

Elliott approached them and kissed his partner on the forehead.

Bloodhound purred with relief and pressed their lips against his.

"Maybe a walk around the woods would help you?

-Only if I'm with you."

#apex legends #video games #apex #respawn entertainment #apex bloodhound #apex mirage #elliott witt #apex legends fanfic #apex fanfic #fanfiction #writing #aerawrites #miragehound #angst #comfort #fanfic

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twogirlsandapage · 6 years

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The Boy At The Rock Show

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2539

~Lyss

Maybe it was fate that lead you together...

The doors had just open to the show, you had been waiting for this night for a while. You and your friends had made your way inside, hitting the merch stand first. Of course, you were going to grab a shirt, maybe some stickers to plaster all over town.

While you were waiting in line you felt someone’s eyes on you, but while looking around you couldn’t find whose eyes they were.

After grabbing merch, you guys found a spot at the barricade, towards the left of the stage. That feeling hits you. Once again, you couldn’t find th-. There they were.

He was gorgeous. Dark brown hair parted down the middle. Tiny little hoop earrings, and cute little circle glasses. He quickly looked away as you caught him staring at you, your friends pulled your attention back to them and you didn’t see him again that night. No matter how much you searched for him.

Two months later, your friends had talked you into going to another show, at the same venue. Of course, you said yes, secretly in hopes you’d see the cute boy again. You had picked out the perfect outfit and headed to the concert with your friends.

After a short ride and a lot of scream-singing, you had arrived and walked yourself to the line of people outside. You scanned every face you walked by, sadness setting in because you didn’t see him.

“Why the long face, pumpkin?” Maya nudged your arm.

Lily, who was somehow already sitting on the ground, laughed slightly, “I’m sure she’s looking for that boy she saw last time.”

You nod, “Yeah I actually am." Maya nodded and looked around.

“I’m not seeing him either, but I hope you find him. You know, if he’s actually here.” You shrug your shoulders and played on your phone until the doors open.

The doors opened, your friends made a B-line for the merch table, like always. You stood toward the back of the crowd, scanning over everyone walking in. Yet, still no sight of the boy. You sighed and gave up your search, you decided to focus on having a great time with your friends.

They walked back over to you and you guys headed towards the stage. "Do you guys want any drinks?” Both nodded and told Jisu what they wanted, she repeated their drinks a few times and walked away to grab them.

“Found him yet?” You shake your head, sighing and looking at your feet.

“It’s okay, you’ll see him again. Maybe not today but one day.” You nod and sway along to the light music playing.

The opening band was about to come on when you felt that feeling. You smiled slightly and looked for him, he was a few rows behind you. This time his hair wasn’t parted, it was covering his forehead. He still had in the same hoops, but no glasses today either. He spotted you, sending the first smile, which you returned and turned back to face the stage.

After the show that night, your friends hung around in hopes that the band would come out and hang with their fans like they always would. Eventually, they did, you smiled and stood by your friends as they talked to the guitarists of the group.

“H-Hello, I just wanted to say you’re extremely gorgeous.” You spun around, to your surprise the boy was standing there.

You didn’t really know how to react, he was even more attractive up close, and his voice was beautiful as well.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “ I’m sorry, that was probably very weird. I’ll leave you al-“

You cut him off, “I’m sorry, you’re just a lot more attractive up close. Caught me off guard.”

He laughed and nodded, “Alright, I’m Jungkook. Your name, beautiful?”

You blush and giggled softly, “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

Before he could speak, a pink haired boy grabbed his arm and pulled him away, saying something along the lines of, ‘We need to go now', and something about people named Joon and Yoongi being drunk. You sighed and turned back to your friends, at least you knew his name now. You were sure if you ever heard that voice again you would recognize it in a heartbeat.

The next two shows you attended Jungkook wasn’t present, or just not in your sight. It was upsetting. You were hoping to talk more, maybe even get the boy’s number. But you had no luck. You were probably going to go broke from attending concerts at this point, you just wanted to see the cute boy from the show. But you started to give up hope, not as you would ever see the boy outside of that venue.

It wasn’t until three weeks after the last show that the boy reappeared. This time, it was while he was moving boxes into the same apartment complex you lived in. You had just finished grabbing your bags from your shopping adventure with your friends, heading to check your mail when you saw the beautiful boy.

This time he had cherry red hair, and the same friend from the last show was helping him. Your breath was caught in your throat. Obviously, you had to walk right by him, but we’re you supposed to say anything? Or stay quiet and just walk inside? You nervously chewed on your bottom lip as you walked towards the front door, noticing both boys also approaching the door, holding boxes. You quickly opened it, holding it open for them.

Jungkook smiles and thanked you quickly, before stopping in the middle of the hallway. “Wait, Y/N?” He set the box down and turned to you.

“Hello, Jungkook!” You smile widely and walk into the hallway, “Don’t let me distract you from moving.” You hurried up the stairs and into your apartment. You set down all your bags and quickly rang your friends, “You bitches won’t believe who the hell I saw moving into my building a few seconds ago.” They all quickly started screaming guesses, each one wrong, “It was Jungkook.” There was silence for a few seconds, “If you don’t fucking get laid now, I’ll fight him.” Jisu laughed loudly, the rest of you joining along.

You never really saw him much after that, mainly because when you weren’t at work you were in your room watching Netflix. But he mainly spent his days binge playing Overwatch, so he didn’t leave much either.

But one night, the both of you decided that 9pm was the perfect night to go grocery shopping down the street. You were pushing your cart around the corner into the chip aisle when your carts smashed together. “I’m just going to see you everywhere, huh?” He laughed.

You smiled, “Yeah I guess so. Are you complaining though?”

“Oh god no, trust me I like it.” He smiled, it was such a cute smile, almost bunny like. It was absolutely adorable. Was it possible to fall in love with someone you barely knew? Because you were sure it was happening right now.

You nodded, “Good because we now share the same building, I’m sure you’ll see me around a lot.”

“Yeah, when I’m not trapped in my room playing video games,” He laughed slightly, playing with the sleeves of his sweater.

You licked your lips and looked towards the ground, “M-Maybe we could even hang out if you’d like..”

“That actually sounds amazing, you think I could get your number?” You nodded quickly and grab his phone when he hands it to you. You add your number and take a quick selfie for the contact photo and handed it back. “ I’ll let you get back to your food shopping. You should totally try banana milk, it’s super good.” He says.

“I’ll go grab some right after I get my chips,” You giggle and walk past him, smiling a little too much.

It took him a little over a day to finally text you though, the poor boy was so nervous to finally do it. But as soon as he did, you couldn’t stop talking for about a month straight.

The two of you really connected, it felt like you known each other for way longer than you actually did and it felt so amazing.

You still had not hung out, with your work schedule and whenever you were free, he was with his friends. Part of you believed he was just busy, but the other part of you was scared he didn’t want to hang out with you anymore. Until today, when he sent you a text.

‘I remember you saying you don’t work today, and my friends canceled our plans, so meet me at my apartment around noon? We could watch movies and eat way too much food.’

You giggle at the text and reply a quick ‘okay!’ and got ready. Just a cute pair of leggings and an oversized hoodie. You simply waited around 'til it was time to go downstairs.

Around 11:50, you grabbed the rest of the banana milk you had in your fridge and took the elevator to his floor. The walk to his apartment felt extremely long, probably because you were walking extremely slow. You hadn’t been this nervous in a while and apparently, the social anxiety was finally settling in.

Talking to someone through the phone is so easy, you can hide behind a whole facade through the keyboard, but in person? So shy and awkward. Sure you’ve had conversations but now you’re officially hanging out; the whole day of just you two.

You knocked on his door quickly, no time for doubt. He opened the door wearing his signature bunny smile, a black long sleeve, and some sweatpants. You definitely weren’t expecting him to pull you into a hug, but he did and it made you even happier. “Sorry, I’m a bit of a hugger.”

“Don’t apologize, I like it.” You smile and pull away. He stepped to the side to let you in.

“I was thinking we could hang in my room, I’ve got a huge tv and a memory foam mattress that’s a hell of a lot more comfortable than the couch,” He laughed.

You nod and hand him the milk you had brought, “Sounds good to me, cutie.” He blushed and looked down, “And you even brought me banana milk. I’m in love.” You giggle and follow him to his room. He grabs his controller from his desk and plops on the bed. You follow his actions. “Make yourself at home," he says. You nod and sit criss-cross, back against his headboard. “You can sit closer, too. I don’t bite, not too hard, at least.”

“You sound like a 2015 Tumblr post.” You chuckle.

“That’s rude.”

“It's the truth babe, I’m sorry,” You laugh and play with your fingers.

You soon felt his hand grabbing yours, intertwining your fingers. “Nervous?” He asked. You nod. “I am too, it feels weird hanging out with someone who isn’t one of the boys I’m always with. But I’m sure we’ll get through this, together,” He smiled and pulled you closer to him.

You were probably on the third movie when you heard slight snores from beside you. You giggle slightly and gently pulled your hand from his, deciding now would be the best time to leave. “Where are you going, love?” He speaks, sleep in his voice. Your heart swelled at the nickname.

“I thought you were sleeping, I was gonna head home.” He shook his head and grabbed your hand again. “Take a nap with me,” He smiled lazily and opened his arms. You contemplate for a second and give in pretty easily, leaning into his side and resting your head in his chest. His arms tighten around you, one hand rubbing your back slightly and the other reaching to pull a blanket over the two of you.

Saying you guys took a nap would be an understatement when you woke up at 3 in the morning. Jungkook was already awake and softly rubbing your back, “Morning, sunshine,” he chuckled.

You rubbed your eyes slightly. “Oh god, it’s so late.”

He shook his head, “I think it’s a perfect time, for an adventure.”

You laugh and check your phone, “I should head home now.”

“Wait, you wouldn’t wanna adventure with me?”

“Oh, you’re actually serious?” He nods quickly. “You’re lucky I don’t have work today, Jeon.” He smiles and pulls a hoodie from off the floor.

It was about 6 when you both found yourself at the water, your adventure took you all around town. You guys talked throughout the entire walk, but now Jungkook was quiet, sitting on the rock wall beside you. Not going to lie, it was a little weird but you just leaned your head against his shoulder and sat there watching the sunrise.

“When I first saw you at that show, I never would’ve expected we’d be sitting here right now,” he spoke softly, “I didn’t even think you’d give me a second glance, and we’ve actually become really good friends.” Friends, right. You sigh and lift your head from his shoulder, moving slightly away from him. “Why’d you move?” He whines, trying to pull you towards him. “Was it something I said?”

“No no, just wanted to move, that’s all.” He gave you a look. “What? I’m serious.”

He shakes his head, “Sorry chief, I don’t believe you.”

“You seriously did not just call me chief.”

“Yes, I did. Why? Do you want me to call you something else?” You bit your lip and looked away. “Hey. Look at me, Y/N... Pleaseeee!” You give in. “What do you want me to call you if I can’t call you chief?” He asks.

“You could call me yours.” That definitely wasn’t supposed to come out. His eyes widen slightly and the tears already starting to swell in your eyes. How could you let that slip out? What an idiot.

You shake your head and stand up. “I'm going to head home, sorry Jungkook.”

He gets up quickly, grabbing your wrist. “Get back over here,” he pulls you towards him, "Is that why baby pulled away when I said we were friends?” He smirked

“Stop teasing me,” you whine, your ears filled with his laughter.

“It’s adorable babe,” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “So I can call you mine?” You bite your lip and slowly nod. “No, I wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes, you can call me yours, Jungkook.” He smiled widely.

“You think I could kiss you, too?”

You laugh. “Of course you can, loser.” He chuckles and cups your cheeks. You would think that he would go right for it, but he just stops and admires your features, lightly stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. You sigh and take matters into your own hands, standing up on your tippy toes and smashing your lips together. He tastes a lot like the coffee you guys had gotten a little while ago. It was sweet, just like him. The sun had finally risen over the horizon, rays falling over you guys.

The whole moment was perfect, just like him.

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osakakitty · 7 years

Text

More KatsuDeku Thoughts/Ramblings

The other day I was seeing a lot of people complaining about hate in both the ‘Katsudeku’ and ‘Bakudeku’ tags, but to be honest, I didn’t see it. I suppose I must have the right people blocked.

But, it did get me thinking about things that people love to bring up when discussing the “p r o b l e m a t i c” elements of this ship. Two big ones in particular come to mind.

One has already been discussed to death, and I hope to jeezus I never have to talk about it myself. Yes, Bakugo told Deku to jump off a building. It’s horrible and despicable and I would never defend such awful behavior. It was simple shorthand for Horikoshi to establish Bakugo as an unremorseful jerk. Congrats, dude. It worked.

The second thing, however, is something I could talk about at length.

So I will.

Let’s talk about THIS.

Warning: this is a goddamn long post. Pour yourself a drink.

Before I begin, I would like to preface this by saying if you or anyone you love has been abused, this post is not here to downplay your experiences at all. Many people identify with Izuku as a victim of abuse, and I completely understand why.

However, in this post I will be dissecting why I personally don’t see it that way. While I can fully admit that many of Bakugo’s actions are ones I would classify as “abusive,” I just don’t see Bakugo and Midoriya’s relationship as “abuser and victim.”

For example, once he establishes himself on the same playing field as Bakugo, Midoriya’s attitude towards him practically changes on a dime.

He’s still somewhat self-deprecating in how he compares himself to Bakugo, but...

He is now confident in his ability to stand up for himself.

And he does.

He even shows us, the reader, that he’s more than just confident. He’s cocky.

And yet, even after finding his strength and conquering his fear, he still puts Bakugo on a pedestal above the rest of his peers. While also wanting to smash him into the concrete.

But I’m not here to talk about how much I love Deku vs. Kacchan. Lots of other, more eloquent people have done so already.

I’m here to talk about Bakugo clocking Midoriya in the face.

Let’s break it down:

1) Setup

I briefly mentioned this here, but let it be known that none of our heroes have ever excused Bakugo’s behavior.

He is constantly reprimanded for the way he treats other people, and his classmates mostly see him as a hothead and a brute. Despite the fact that he is one of the strongest and smartest in his class, it’s no secret that his people skills are lacking. It’s even been commented on that his attitude is far from what one would call “heroic.”

Aizawa does as much before the exam even starts:

So of course, he gets paired with Midoriya, who has always been his opposite. Kind, level-headed, and meek.

A common argument against the Bakugo/Midoriya relationship is that Midoriya is still scared of Bakugo. Once again, I just don’t see this. After their first fight, Midoriya’s encounters with Bakugo seemed more like he felt “awkward” rather than “scared.”

In this case, once their fight with All Might begins, Midoriya seems fidgety around Bakugo.

He could be scared, but it’s quickly explained that’s not quite it.

It’s not that he’s scared because of Bakugo; he’s worried for All Might.

He knows if push comes to shove, he can handle whatever Bakugo throws at him.

Speaking of which...

2) Action

I’m gonna level with you. This is probably one of my favorite panels in My Hero Academia.

It’s so simple, yet so effective. Just one glance and you can feel the impact it has. Not only on the characters, but on the mood. Everything else is gone. The background is completely white. You only need to look at Midoriya, Bakugo, and the brutal “CRACK” that Horikoshi lovingly slapped above them.

The panel after it only makes what came before even worse.

It lingers on Midoriya’s pain. The same pain the readers are meant to feel. As if yelling at us, “this is important!” Placing this panel here tells us that Horikoshi wanted the reader to take a moment to let what just happened sink in.

Katsuki Bakugo fucking backhanded Izuku Midoriya in the face.

It’s terrible, awful, and completely necessary for the narrative purpose of everything else that follows it.

Just to make sure you don’t give Bakugo the benefit of the doubt, in the next panel he’s drawn like this. Harsh, messy lines and hatched shadows, like he’s a villain.

Like I brought up earlier, Izuku stands up for himself.

Even when Bakugo has shown what he’s willing to do...

...He continues to stand up.

Izuku Midoriya is no longer a victim. He’s a fighter.

However, it is true that what Bakugo did to him was horrible.

So, what proceeds to happen for the next few chapters?

BAKUGO

GETS

HIS

SHIT

FUCKING

W R E C K E D .

In fact, aside from getting decked by Bakugo, Midoriya’s only injuries come from getting tossed aside and elbowed in the back by All Might once. This is one of the only battles he walks away from looking better than the other participant.

On the other hand, Bakugo gets thrown, pinned, smashed, grabbed, stomped on, and punched so hard he literally blows chunks. I think it’s safe to say that when the pain train left the station, Midoriya might have been a passenger, but Bakugo was tied to the railroad tracks.

I assume this fight is cathartic for people who hate Bakugo. Heck, he’s my favorite character and I found this incredibly satisfying. It was certainly a long time coming.

What makes this payback even better is something else that happens around the halfway point of the fight.

3) Reaction

While you could essentially boil this narrative “action” → “reaction” down to “Bakugo hits Midoriya” → “Bakugo gets put down like the bitch he is,” it wouldn’t be an entirely satisfying conclusion without input from a very important character.

Fortunately, Horikoshi-sensei had blessed us.

Midoriya admits Bakugo is terrible. He knows that.

But he’s still “amazing” in his eyes. Bakugo has qualities that he wants, that he believes in.

So when Bakugo, at his lowest point, admits that he would accept defeat if it meant working with Deku...

“action” → “REACTION”

Glorious.

The best part about this punch is that while we, the audience, see it as punishment for what Bakugo did to Midoriya, its purpose in the story is encouragement.

Remember, Midoriya has always been Bakugo’s opposite.

While Bakugo’s punch was meant to discourage Midoriya from acting, Midoriya’s punch was meant to encourage Bakugo to act. Their discussion afterwards is the opposite, as well.

Rather than tell Bakugo to stand down and let him handle everything, Midoriya wants to work together with him.

You all know what this leads to.

[insert keyboard smash here]

This is only one part of the amazing payoff in this fight.

4) Payoff

You might recall the setup from the beginning of this giant word pile.

Katsuki Bakugo is a jerk, and doesn’t work well with others, especially Izuku Midoriya.

Towards the end of their fight with All Might, they put aside their differences and learn to work together by using something that the other has. Of course, Midoriya uses Bakugo’s gauntlet to release a massive explosion, giving them time to attempt an escape. When that doesn’t quite work, Bakugo has to use something of Midoriya’s. It’s intangible, but it’s something All Might himself said was special to Midoriya.

The spirit of self-sacrifice.

They have no choice but to escape the fight. On their way to the goal, All Might catches up to them, and Bakugo manages to break free from his hold. He urges Midoriya to run, leaving him to distract All Might.

He makes a decision.

It’s a decision he knows will hurt him. He had mentioned it before during the Sports Festival.

Despite knowing that it will put him out of commission, he does so anyway. For Midoriya.

Bakugo could have let Midoriya be the distraction, or he could have attempted to run as well, but instead he chose to become a shield. He sacrificed himself so Midoriya could claim their victory, rather than him.

When All Might nearly pounces Midoriya before he leaps to the goal, Bakugo intercepts him.

He lies on the ground, not caring about his wounds, knowing he’s going to lose his battle...

...So that Midoriya can win their fight.

It’s an uncharacteristically noble thing for him to do, and it probably would have worked. But, as mentioned before, self-sacrifice was kind of Midoriya’s thing first.

So he can use it, too.

After being punched in the face.

After punching him in the face.

After working with Bakugo and sharing their strengths.

After years of being scared until he learned to stand up and fight.

Izuku Midoriya would save even Katsuki Bakugo if it meant protecting him from getting hurt.

That is why I cannot see them as “abuser and victim.” I don’t really see them as anything. They’re still growing as characters. They’ve barely made it through a fraction of their first year at UA.

I suppose the only thing I can see them as are “heroes-in-training.” Maybe because that’s what they are.

One last thing before I end this spur-of-the-moment essay (giving myself too much credit here). There is a very important string of dialogue in the middle of this fight that I want to show in its entirety.

This was only the first step.

There’s so much more to come from these two.

And frankly, I can’t wait to see everything.

But for those of you who still hate Bakugo for what he did to Midoriya...

Well, here’s the panel of All Might punching him in the gut. He did deserve it.

#katsudeku #bakudeku #i cannot believe how long i spent on this #i hope someone reads this unbearably long post #and also appreciates that i scanned every single panel myself #i used post it notes goddammit #i had a system #now i must rest #bakudeku meta

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kitty-ray · 7 years

Text

Code Ch. 1

Summary: When Pidge's life (literally) goes up in flames, she vows to stop at nothing to find Shiro, the man who murdered her father.Except, he didn't. (But Pidge doesn't know that.)Finding him means entangling herself in the underground world of deals, drugs, and death, but that's a risk she's willing to take. She only has one month left, one month to find her brother and clear Shiro's name before time runs out--or Zarkon will destroy them all.

Rating: T

A/N: Happy birthday, Pidge! (Took me seven months to get the courage to post it. Hope you like it!)

Warnings: Female pronouns for Pidge, everyone is aged up (at least 18+), and Keith and Pidge are hella gay. No Shidge. Klance and Shallura, and Pidge has a girlfriend. (Well, almost.)

[AO3], [FF]

My arm is scarred. I know because they won’t let me remove the bandages. Somehow, I’m always asleep whenever the nurses change them, so I always miss what it looks like now. The inquisitive part of my brain is telling me to rip them off and take a look, but the logical part says that there is a good reason why they are there. Logic wins this time (as it has with me for almost eighteen years of my life).

Someone knocks on my door, and I don’t even have to look up to know that it’s Mom. Without fail, she’s here everyday at 2:30 on the dot. “Katie,” she says softly, “I brought your tablet charger. Sorry I couldn’t bring it earlier; I’ve been swamped with work.”

I look up, but she’s not looking at me. She’s biting the inside of her cheek, her hands clutching at the handles of her purse as she stares at my bandages. Trying to bring her out of it, I slide them under the blankets and try to smile. “You have my charger?”

“Oh!” She says, snapping out of it. “I do! I don’t know how you find anything in that mess you call a room. It took me hours just to find this! When you get home and healthy again, the first thing you’re doing is cleaning your room.” Her hands dug through her purse, and I smile. She’s chastising me even though her purse is a mess? It’s exactly what my mom would do. “Honestly, Katie, how do you know where anything is? How are you going to pack all of that up when you go to college? Just shoving things in boxes is not going to work.” Her tongue clicks. “Matt never let it get out of hand….”

My hand curls around the blanket as I wait for her to realize what she said, but it doesn’t come. She never notices.

Two weeks ago, I lost half of my family, but my mom almost lost everyone. I’m lucky to even be alive. The images are still clear in my head. Matt and Dad joking around while we sit in random places in Dad’s office, Chinese take out in our hands and on the desk, notes upon notes upon notes scattered all over the room. Summer break just started, meaning college was just around the corner. We were talking about what my dorm would be like, whether or not my roommate and I would get along (I voted no, Dad voted yes, Matt just shrugged), if this was the year I would try my hand in romance. Dad said something funny, and Matt laughed. Those are happy memories.

But then I smelled something burning, and Dad and Matt were running out into the lab, and I followed after them. Matt just barely managed to get me under something before it went off. I burned my arm on something. Something hit my head. Someone was standing in the doorway, carrying my brother away.

Takashi Shirogane.

I curled my working hand into a fist as I thought of him. He was the same age as my brother, and we treated him like family, I’ll admit I started to have some feelings for him, but that ended a few months ago when we found out that he stole some of Dad’s research. (And when I realized that I am extremely gay.) All of that affection turned into disgust. How could someone just betray the people that cared so much for them? It didn’t make any sense.

“Knock knock!”

Mom and I turn to look at the nurse that just walked in. Today, it’s Rosetta, a peppy nurse with dark hair and caramel covered skin. She’s wearing pink. Her curly hair is in a pony tail. Normally, I can’t stand overly-happy people, but Rosetta makes it work. Maybe it’s because she reminds me of how Mom was when I was younger. But just because I like her doesn’t mean that I don’t mess with her from time to time.

“The doctor says that you might be discharged in a few days given your speedy recovery. That’s good right?” Rosetta says as she starts to check my vitals.

“Splendid.”

Rosetta didn’t hear the sarcasm in my voice—or maybe she ignored it—and continued on with her work and whatnot. I get stern glare from Mom. Of course she heard it. She’s been programmed to detect when I’m being serious or just snarky. Typical mom stuff.

“Well, Katie,” my nurse walks to the door and puts back the clipboard, “all there is left to have Dr. Morrison check you out, and then you’re all set! You’ll be back home in no time.”

Yeah, but home isn’t going to be the same anymore. Matt’s not going to be there to tease me. Dad isn’t going to be able to make his famous lasagna anymore. It’ll just be me and Mom. How is it ever going to be normal again?

I curl into my covers as soon as I am left alone. My bed— my bed, not the hospital one that I could’ve buried in the ground and not care about it at all—is plush and covered in fresh sheets and pillow cases. Rosetta applied new bandages to my arm after checking it before I left, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to look. I didn’t want to know what it looks like. I didn’t want to remember.

Nothing in my room has changed. That’s good. It’s good. Maybe if I close my eyes, my family will come bursting through the door, and they’ll act like nothing ever happened. Yeah. That’s what will happen.

But it doesn’t. They’re not there when I open my eyes. They’re not there when I walk out into the hall. They’re not there when I go into the living room. They’re just not there.

Mom is. She’s curled up on our clunky recliner that we shoved into the corner of the room. Her eyes are glossy, and she’s staring outside the balcony at something. I clear my throat. “What’s for dinner?”

She starts, her legs unfurling as she sits straight up. “Katie! I-I didn’t see you there! I was just…” She looks around before her eyes fall on the magazine next to her. “I was just reading, and—”

“Mom.”

Mom’s shoulders slump as her face falls. She looks away. I’m debating whether or not I should go over there (of course I should go over there! She’s my mom, god damn it!), but she just swipes at her eyes and stands up. “Dinner. We need dinner.” Her nose is red as she smiles. “Want to help me make it?”

Half an hour later and all we have made is soup. Which is good, I guess. Not exactly the hearty meal I should be eating, but Mom hasn’t been to the store since the accident, so I’m not going to give her any grief. Maybe I’ll have to do the shopping for a bit. Give Mom a break. Then again, maybe doing things like this could take her mind off of it. It could be good for her. Good for us.

“We haven’t…” Mom starts before clearing her throat. Her brown eyes won’t meet mine. “We haven’t discussed anything about college. Are you-are you still going to go this semester?” She finally looks up. “No one would blame you if you didn’t. You could stay, home, take online courses, then go next semester.”

“No.” I say, my hand curling around my spoon. “I’m… I’m not just going to not go. I think it’ll do me some good to get out and continue on. Dad wouldn’t want me to just give up. He wouldn’t want me to….” I trail off, unable to think of what to say next. Mom is quiet as she stirs her soup. It hurts her. It hurts her so much. She’s lost Dad. She’s lost Matt. She almost lost me too, and now that I’m going away, she feels like she already has. I want to stay and be here for her, but there’s something else I have to do. Dad’s death wasn’t an accident. It was murder, and I think I know who killed him.

When Mom leaves for work the next day, I finally get to work myself. Dad’s and Matt’s laptops sit on either side of my desktop, and I have quite a few notepads and several (I repeat, several) pens scattered in front of me. The research Dad and Matt were working on was pulled up on Dad’s laptop, security feed from that day on mine, and my own research on Matt’s. I replay the security footage again. One moment it’s a blank hallway, the next a large figure in a hoodie walking down it, then it cuts out. Nothing, just static. Then it cuts back in just in time to see that figure carrying my brother down the hall.

The man is bigger, and his hair is different, but there’s no mistaking who it is. I zoom in on the feed just in case. Definitely him.

I switch over to Matt’s computer again then groan at the results. The only things coming up for ‘Takashi Shirogane’ are articles about him and my family, him leaving the team, and him being the number one suspect in the murder of Dr. Samuel Holt, but that’s not what I need. I already know all that stuff. You’d think that things like home addresses or cell phone numbers would be easy to find.

It’s like Shiro totally wiped himself from existence. It’s like he doesn’t even exist.

“No, no, no, no!” My fingers smash against the keyboard angrily as I scream out my frustrations. He’s not in the school’s database anymore (meaning he completely moved out and whatnot), his old phone number has been disconnected (trust me; I’ve tried), nothing. How hard is it to find a fucking child prodigy?

My phone dings. It’s the one device I haven’t looked at in these past few hours (read: days). Sighing, I adjust my glasses and reach for it. “Huh,” I say as I read the name. I was expecting my best friend Cass, or maybe Mom, but Hunk Garrett? Not at all.

From: Hunky-monkey

>> Hey.

A year or two ago, Dad introduced me to a group of students that were more or less interns, still students and in a position under Shiro and Matt but valuable nonetheless. Hunk was one of them. (He is (was?) an engineering major that created all sorts of machines that helped Dad and the rest of the team in their research. He’s a lovable dork with anxiety and crazy ideas that almost always work.) Occasionally, he’d text me to ask if I wanted to hang out. The answer? Always yes.

To: Hunky-monkey

>> Hey

He replies instantly, the bubble only appearing for a short time as he types rapidly.

From: Hunky-monkey

>> We haven’t talked in a while. How’s the arm?

To: Hunky-monkey

>> Good thanks for asking

From: Hunky-monkey

>>…

>> How are YOU?

I’m not used to people asking how I am. (Well, with the exception of my mom and the occasional doctor.) My fingers hover over the keyboard. How am I?

Frowning, I lock my phone and place it face down on my desk. I don’t have time for distractions. I have to find Shiro, and my clock is ticking.

1:56

1:57

1:58

I watch the clock as it changes, my mind numb but eyes refusing to close. I’m getting nowhere. If the police couldn’t find anything, then why did I think I could instead? My eyelids burn as I shut them for a second. When I open them again, it’s almost eight. Great. I’m losing time, and I’m getting nowhere. Can it get any worse?

I really shouldn’t keep going, but I need sleep. I haven’t slept fully in a week. My gaze falls onto my unmade bed. It’s piled high with pillows and my favorite fluffy blanket and coziness…. Screw it. Research be damned. I ache as I stand up, my knees crackling and my back popping.

When I’m all settled in my bed (or rather, right after I just jumped on), I let my mind wander as my eyes focus on my bedroom door. Why isn’t there anything on Shiro? He’s a ghost. That’s it. That’s what he is. A ghost. A big, oversized, alive ghost. Wow, I’m so sleep-deprived that I’m thinking in oxymorons. Closing my eyes, I settle even further into my pillows.

Then my phone goes off, and I shoot out of bed to read it, and I’m nearly jumping for joy at the message.

From: Starchild

>> Got your boy. Takashi Shirogane, 25 yrs old, previously the intern for your late dad, yada yada yada

>> But you already know all that. Shirogane is hiding out in Chinatown in an apartment. Kind of a small place. He literally pays like nearly 2 grand a month for it. What the shit boston

>> Sending over the info now

You could probably tell that Starchild is not his real name, but we’re both doing illegal things, so it’s best I don’t know it. He’s good, and I mean really good. Better than me even. I mean, he could find where my target lives when I couldn’t even get a single recent article of him, the easiest thing to find.

From: Starchild

>> Hope that helps gunderson. Good luck on your man hunt.

That definitely helps. Grinning, I grab a baseball cap before running out the door. (It was a Red Sox one that I got when I went with Cass and her filthy rich brother. He splurges occasionally and takes his sister (and her awesomely awkward best friend) to special outings like a game, but he mostly likes to save his earnings for a rainy day. I don’t blame him.) Mom won’t go in my room, so I’m not really concerned about the laptop programs running. Plus, I have some things I have downloading that I haven’t checked on.

Mom’s still asleep, so I sneak out as quietly as I can. Only Rover notices me. Good dog. Just as I’m about to turn the knob, he whines, and I groan. “No, Rove, I’m not going on a you-know-what. You’ll have to wait until Mom wakes up,” I whisper. But he just looks at me with those puppy-dog eyes and I melt. Grabbing his leash, I sigh. “Fine. C’mon.”

He yips and runs out the door, stopping just at the top of the staircase to wait for me. He wiggles as another little yip escapes.

The door locks with a click, and then we’re taking the stairs two at a time, Rover pulling me down all the way. He’s a little too anxious to get out. He’s a little too happy, too. Still, I can’t exactly say that the exercise won’t do us any good. Neither of us has quite gotten any since the accident.

I can’t take Rover to Chinatown because honestly, I’m not sure what’s going to happen there, so I take him back in after a good lap around the block. It’s been a while since I’ve walked these streets. They were starting to become unfamiliar, and it scares me just how much I have started to look at things differently now. Nothing’s the same any more. Nothing ever will be. Gripping Rover’s leash tighter, I hurry back to the apartment to drop him off before setting off on what I originally set out to do.

Chinatown is never dull. A little gross, has a weird smell every now and then, but never dull. I’m always fascinated by the people whenever I come here. (At some point of my life, I wanted to be a psychology major, but that was before I discovered the wonder world of computing and became the shit-in I am now. Cass, on the other hand, absolutely loves people and wants to get into their heads. It’s the perfect thing for her.) But I can’t pay attention to those things right now. I have to find Shiro. Inhaling, I continue through the streets, my fingers curling around a crumpled up piece of paper that I wrote Shiro’s address on.

There’s a little corner market near his apartment, so I go in to buy a drink and some breakfast. (I haven’t really eaten that much in the past couple of days thanks to “research”.) The cashier looks dead on his feet but somewhat happy to see me nonetheless. A customer’s a customer.

When the bell rings, the man perks up. “Ah, Shirokawa! Nice to see you this morning! Are you out on a run?”

“Yeah. Just stopped by to pick up a few things.” Shirokawa’s voice sent shivers up my spine. I know that voice. I know that voice all too well.

“Ah, yes, yes, take your time. As long as you need.”

I reach up and pull the ball cap lower on my head before turning around to the drink section He’s tall with a muscular build and a buzz cut on the lower half of his head. He has on a black hoodie, and something glimmers in the sunlight as he moves his right hand. It’s just like in the video. When he turns around, I drop my head and wait for him to go up to the cash register before following in suit. Why follow the address when I can just follow him now?

I’m out the door by the time Shiro’s turning the corner. (That cashier was really fast.) Panicking slightly, I job to catch up with him. He keeps disappearing in the crowds, weaving in and out of them, apologizing every time he runs into a person accidentally. When he turns down a wrong street, my brow creases. That’s not how he should be going home. It’s in the opposite direction. (I’ve looked it up.) it isn’t until he turns down another wrong street that it occurs to me that he’s purposely going the wrong direction. Shit. He’s on me.

We’re nearing his apartment complex now. I hide within the merchandise of a next door street vendor while he goes in, and after a minute or two, I follow. What are the chances that there is a buzzer that I need to ring to get in? God, I hope not. But in places like these? Of course there would be one. My eyes lock onto the buzzers. With a whine, I shift on my feet. “Just my luck.”

The back of my neck tingles in warning, like someone’s watching me, but I ignore it. Anxiety’s just acting up again.

I glance at the door knob. Doesn’t hurt to try. I realize too late that the door was cracked open on purpose. Maybe that’s because I’m getting a face-full of dirty wall with my arm—not the injured one, thankfully—twisted behind my back. I grit my teeth.

“What do you want?” a deep voice behind me asks. It’s a man’s obviously, and his body is pressed up against mine, preventing me from getting out. Shiro. He pushes me closer to the wall and growls out, “How did you find me?”

“What? Like you’re the only one with connections?”

His grip loosens, and he falters just enough for me to slip my arm out of his literal steel grip. That makes me pause. Steel? Why would he be wearing steel?

Shiro steps back before turning me around. He gasps. “Katie?” He glances out the door’s window briefly then back at me. “You shouldn’t be here. Go home.”

He’s going to kick me out, but I hold my ground, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at him. “No. Not until you tell me why you killed my father.”

“Killed your—?” His eyes widened. “Katie, no. That wasn’t me, I promise. I-I can’t really—” He looks out the window again and curses. He’s frantic. “Look, I can’t talk about this with you right now. I promise to tell you everything if you just go home.”

“How do I know you’re not trying to trick me?”

“God damn it, Katie, I’m not trying to trick you! I’m trying to keep you safe!”

Keep me safe? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? The only way I’ll be safe is if he’s behind bars and I’m with the police. I bite my lip and dig my hands into my pockets. “I’m not leaving.” I tell him. “So you better tell my why you killed my dad and took my brother right now or I’ll—”

Shiro grabs my arms and starts dragging me towards the stairs. At some point, I’m pretty sure I start yelling some ugly words that would make my grandmother roll over in her grave. But Shiro just takes it all in stride and mutters something about “Holt’s and out stubbornness”.

He stops in front of his apartment door (number 406) and jabs a key into the lock. My reasoning (the bad one) kicked in and told me that this is probably the best chance I’ll ever get to talk to him about halfway up the stairs, so I’ve stopped yelling curses. That doesn’t mean I’m not thinking them. And I’m definitely thinking them.

“You better be telling me what I want to know, Shiro.” I say when we’re in his apartment. It’s barren when you walk in, the living room only having a sofa bed and a coffee table in it. Not even a TV. To my left, a small little kitchenette was all cozied up in the corner. (Shiro looks way too big to even fit in it without stubbing his toes or breaking a plate.) He turns to lock the deadbolt as I’m giving myself a tour. Definitely not a place I would’ve thought he would live in.

He sighs. “Don’t move,” he says then disappears down the hall into another room. I count to ten before I start heading towards his fridge. What? I didn’t eat breakfast. He doesn’t have much in there, just some fudge and apple cider donuts from the Public Market down on Hanover. I wonder where he gets the money to afford all this shit. No one’s exactly keen on hiring a wanted fugitive.

“I told you not to move, Katie.”

“Yeah, well, you should know better than expecting me to obey.”

Shiro smiles a little and scratches his head. “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

He’s holding a laptop carrier chocked full with stuff (most likely papers and what not), and there is a book bag strap hanging off his left shoulder. I get the feeling he’s not just going to the library. As casual as I can be, I lean on his refrigerator and try not to act like I care, which isn’t really hard for me. “Going somewhere?”

Shiro doesn’t pay attention to me. Instead, he goes over to a dresser that I hadn’t noticed earlier and pulls out a bunch of files. They end up going into his book bag. Okay, so he’s not going on a trip. Hopefully.

“Shiro.” I call to him, but he’s busy searching through the drawers to acknowledge me. My foot taps on the ground. “Shiro?” Again, he ignores me, and I can hear him muttering under his breath. Now I’m frustrated. “Hey, Shiro!”

He jumps and blinks. “Oh. Right. You’re here.”

I’m here? I can’t be that hard to forget!

Outside of the apartment, I hear the stairs creaking and a muffled argument. The sounds dull as they near the door. Shiro freezes momentarily before cursing. “Great, so now everyone knows where I live.” He walks towards me, shoves his computer bag into my hands, and pushes me into the direction of the bedroom, completely ignoring my protests (again). “I don’t have time to explain, but you have to get out of here. Go out the fire escape. Meet me down at that convenience store a few blocks down. And whatever you do,” he looks away from the door to meet my gaze, “don’t let anyone get this bag.”

“I told you I’m not—”

“Going anywhere? Yeah, I got that. But you have to leave right now.” Someone’s yelling outside, knocking on the door and calling for a ‘Mr. Shirokawa’. For some reason, I don’t think that it’s just a neighbor.

Shiro runs a hand through his white hair. A metal hand. A metal hand that is most definitely not a natural thing in the world. I can’t help but stare at it. When did he get that? More importantly, how did he get that?

“Look, Katie. I know that you don’t trust me anymore, but you have to right now. Just this once. I’ll explain everything later when we’re someplace safe.” His eyes are pleading. “Please, Katie.”

I don’t know why, but Shiro is desperate to get me out of here. Not a very father-murderer thing to do. My hands grip the computer bag handle tightly. “You promise to tell me everything?”

“Yes.”

“Even about my father?”

“Yes.”

“And where my brother is?”

“Katie!”

This is stupid. This is so stupid. No. I shouldn’t do it. Nuh-uh. Just leave the bag and go home. Call the police. Tell them where Shiro really is and where he’s heading. Get vengeance on Dad and find Matt. Yeah.

The computer bag is heavy, heavier than it should be with a normal computer and a charger. There’s a cross-body strap attached to it. I put it on. God, I’m going to regret this. Inhaling, I nod. “Okay. You better tell me everything, Shirogane. And I mean everything.”

Shiro’s not given a chance to respond before I’m running towards and open window and climbing out onto the fire escape. I don’t look up. Not even when I hear the door break open. Not even when I hear gunshots. And especially not even when men are shouting at me to stop running. Because I know that if I did, I’d be dead.

#vld #pidge #voltron legendary defender #happy birthday pidge #gay #modern au ish #klance #shallura #pidge x oc #pidge is hella gay btw #pidge fic #code

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thebigcitynightsband · 7 years

Text

Bus King/Busking/Night Moves

That’s a photo of me and my ex-gf. I just found it last week in my bag that Jamie brought to me from Burlington, thanks Jamie bro. Happier times, man. We’re still friends but we don’t see each other much. That’s a repeating pattern with me. Me and a gal will break up, declare an intention to stay friends, and then I be their friend while they work hard at vanishing from my life and into the arms of some dude who hates me cuz I’m still her friend. Happened with Jessica, happened with Courtney. Next time I’ll just do the sudden severance. Seems to work for other people.

Well, fuck. I’ve been struggling a little bit lately. Still sober, still pissing in a cup every day. My hours got cut at work for a few weeks but they’re back up to full-time next week, where they’ll remain until mid-December. I’m trying to save my apartment, need to find a roommate to take over the lease, which requires first and last, which I don’t have but I’m trying to acquire somehow.

A few days ago I went busking for the first time in about a year. Queen and University is my corner, northwest side. I like it there because you get a lot of 905ers coming out of Osgoode Station to go explore Queen West, people who don’t ordinarily see buskers, so they’re generous. I can only play for about three hours on an acoustic before my fingers start to hurt too much to play chords, and you average about six bucks an hour. I write a lot of songs that way. “Make It Mine” off the new album was written while busking last year and I came up with a few new ones the other day. It was a good day, actually. I woke up broke and without food and ended the day with a full belly and a pack of cigarettes and an Arizona Iced Tea. I felt content. So I’m gonna go back out there tomorrow. And probably the next day too.

My laptop died and I almost lost the record, but I was able to extract the files after a few days of feeling numb and worried. I really like our upcoming album, the songs have kept me good company over the past year, and the thought of losing the whole damn thing, save for “Fighting Ways” which is finished, and a handful of others, was a little scary. It’s not gone though. Sweet relief. BCN songs are like cockroaches. They find a way. Cue “Long Distance King” in your head as you read that last line...”we’ll find a waaaaay, we’ll fiiind a waaaaay.” Glory days. Before everything went to shit.

Hey, know what’s a great record? Break Up Break Down by Reigning Sound. Listen to the quavering, breathless delivery from Greg Cartwright on this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fWcZKZR3jg

Another great one off that record is called “Want You,” a really sad, pretty ballad. I’d like to make an album of Memphis ballads some day, in the vein of Break Up Break Down. We’ll call it Fuck Up Fuck Off or something.

I set up my keyboard tonight with a mind to do some overdubs tomorrow. I’ve been avoiding doing keyboard overdubs on the album forever because I’m a terrible keyboard player and it takes a really long time to get a single coherent take and I don’t have the patience that I used to. I finished “Night Needles” from A Steamroller Named Desire in a single evening, and that song has probably the most piano of any BCN song. I doubt I could do the same thing now. I’m older now and runnin against the wind, as Bob Seger would sing. Has sung, whatever. Running Against the Wind. I love that song. “Wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then” is a great line eh? Legend has it Seger wanted to cut that line but the producer told him how great it was, which it is. Oftentimes artists can’t recognize their own greatness. Years ago, when I was sixteen or so, I was trying to put together a set of acoustic covers in my bedroom. I remember doing “Leave It Alone” by Moist, which is pretty embarrassing now, but also “Against the Wind” and an acoustic version of the Smashing Pumpkin’s “Ava Adore,” which I was surprised to find has a very similar chord progression as “Against the Wind.” I mean, those two songs sound nothing alike, yet they’re very alike, chord-wise.

ANYWAY I’m rambling. Just finished an assignment for a client (I do people’s homework for them as a side hustle. Forty bucks here, sixty bucks there, it all goes into the giant hole I dug for myself the past few years.) I owe money to one guy who actually chased me this past January, up near Dovercourt and Hallam. I had to jump a couple fences but I got away. He’ll get paid soon enough. They all do.

I’m working on it man. Pushing against the tide. Runnin against the wind.

One last thing about that Bob Seger song: I’ve always thought that part where he yells “let the cowboys ride!” at the end of the song was stupid. Why couldn’t he have taken that part out? It’s so obvious that he was out of ideas and just mustered up the best open field imagery he could in the moment. Let the cowboys ride? Given the greatness that comes before that line, I can’t dismiss the song, even if it’s not as good as the immortal “Night Moves.”

A quick word about “Night Moves” before I go. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mRFWQoXq4c I honestly think it’s one of the greatest all-time vocal performances. There are three distinct parts in the song that always give me shivers. The first is that irresistible “summertime summertime” part @ 2:19. The second comes in that great breakdown, when the title changes from a sexual innuendo to a somber, forlorn musing on the passage of time and how time can move slower when you’re bored, faster when you’re absorbed and excited. Ain’t it funny how the night moves...when you just don’t seem to haaaaaaaave as much to lo-o-se. It’s that “have” that always gets me...just the way Seger gives it the perfect amount of witsfulness and gravelly gravity. Fuckin killer. Singing is always a fine balance between technical proficiency and emotional delivery, but on that line Seger’s 99% heart, 1% technique, and it still sounds incredible. To me, at least.

The last part is in the final minor descending refrain @ 5:04, even though it’s just Bob doing a bunch of “ooooohooohoohhhs.” It wouldn’t be as good if that vocal came over the main riff, but it doesn’t. It comes over the same chord progression as the chorus, that sad lilting minor key descent. Every time, man. Every time.

I’ve been trying to cover “Night Moves” since 2007. I don’t think I’ve ever got past the first chorus. I just can’t sell it. Those aren’t my memories, they’re Bob Seger’s. I never existed in the 1950s America he’s singing about in the song, the America of taking your sweetheart to the drive-in, cruising the strip, going to diners and pushing coins into jukeboxes. That wasn’t my adolescence. So it’s a tough one to sing. You have to know when you’re beaten. That’s part of growing up.

I don’t talk to my Dad anymore. He hates my guts and so does his girlfriend. It doesn’t bother me except for when I hear certain songs...songs like “Night Moves” or “Walking On The Moon” by The Police...first time I ever heard my father sing on the way to Owen Sound for a hockey tournament I was playing...it was the chorus, that “no way, chasing your cares away” part, and we had sunflower seeds and that was the night I fell in love with highways and movement and travel and all that Kerouac stuff I’d get obsessed with later, all those fuckin notebooks I filled with eager scrawling about road trips I hadn’t yet taken. I lost all those notebooks somehow, can’t remember maybe I tossed them all on purpose, kind of a year zero event. Too much in those notebooks was lines from existing songs. I remember one time going through an old notebook and seeing “the sea is foaming like a bottle of beer” and thinking I’d written it...nope...it was a Weezer song. I’d just scrawled out that one line hammered one night, drunk at 17, back when it was actually exciting to get drunk and not a sad chore like it later became.

I’m going busking tomorrow. I might not be able to do “Night Moves” but I can bust out “Against the Wind.” I ain’t licked yet. It ain’t over. I’m older now and still runnin against the wind. Let the cowboys ride or whatever.

Edit, PS: That was a really dramatic fuckin post. I’m sorry. For some much-needed levity, here’s a picture of me from last week. Some friends visited while I was in bed, and I came out to say hello still holding my book. PPS: Hey, know another great Bob Seger song? “Still the Same,” especially those ghostly backing vocals in the second verse. Check it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HjDpKeiYxOU PPPS: Hey, know another song that has cool ghostly additional instrumental in the second verse? Bruce Springsteen’s “Downbound Train.” It’s not his greatest song and I don’t like Bruce’s overdone “blue collar accent,” the dumb slurring he likes to do in order to sound more like a mechanic making $20 000 a year, but that beautiful synth organ that comes in on the second verse is just heartwrenching, listen for it @ 0:49: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nc_mv46NwT4 The organ has a pretty sweet solo for one-bar starting at 1:21. If I could get that organ tone, I wouldn’t put off doing keyboard overdubs, lemme tell ya son, I tell ya what.

#goleafsgo

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