Tch! [look at me when i'm staring at you, bastard! he's not doing this for his own health! yes he is. shut up! he drums his fingers atop the counter's smooth surface, nettling irritation pricking his skin as much as his stupid chest gets all warm inside when a pair of beautiful blue eyes swing back to his face. better. why the hell does it feel so much better when touya looks at him?
lips purse around a silent exhale, punching through his idle serpent of smoke. a different kind of scent. touya always smells a little of smoke, something burning or burnt. leather, skin, hair, cloth, cigarettes, wood. long since used to it, his aggression settles in a growling contentment whenever he breathes it in. touya's unique...
you know why he hates his birthday in this fucking shithole? because it's a tick on the damn calendar of imprisonment, his own weakness and failure rubbed in his face. touya's been here even long, six to eight months before him. pisses him off to see the man trapped in the same state. some part of him should find it hilarious, point and laugh the man who kidnapped and held him prisoner with his band of misfits is locked away inside the same cage. he wants to... he can't. anger flares up instead, as if slamming his fists into a wall that won't move. neither of them can accomplish their goals in this golden crap shot. how long does he have to wait knowing all for one is two seconds from tearing all might in half, knowing he's the only thing keeping a mad child from fusing with another mad child and obliterating everything. sitting here eating and drinking while his world hangs in suspended war.
he's snapped from distraction, red eyes fluttering once as touya's arm moves and shakes his thoughts. hmph, right. think on that shit later. there's something better to focus on right now. his arm drops from his cheek and snags his drink. instead of tilting a peer inside, he lifts the glass to one eye, touya's image inverted and half-submerged.]
Can't decide if I like your pout or smirk better. [smirk. definitely. making no motion to press away from his hand. his palm's heel, his fingers' tips, each slow motion up and down draws lazy patterns on his skin. nerves prickle and definitions flex instinctively, half of him wanting his shirt hiked up so skin on skin takes over, the other half reluctantly stays down.]
Sitting across from someone can feels like a damn war premonition. [especially in his own home, where his mom and he could get into arguments at the spark of a match. his lips quirk, unsure if he's grinning or frowning. be easier to keep his promise of eyes on touya in a booth, but pride keeps him at the bar. part of him wants to scoot his stool closer and lean into him. stupid arm encouraging fuzzy thoughts he stomps down inside.
touya's so caught up in his life before, each new memory and topic dunked in or screened through his blackened past. the past never dies, but to become so saturated in it the future can't exist except within it... fabric shifts, his body moves, one hand dropping to rest over touay's hand and ensuring it stays around his waist as he leans over and presses his lips on his temple. spiky strands of hair poke into his face and cheek, soft despite some brittle ends. i know. he hates it. for all his strength, he can't pull this man from his past or budge him from his damned course. but he doesn't have to let him walk it alone. fight, argue, bitter, confusion, bring it on. childish, yeah, but dammit if he won't make their meals together good times. so long as he can stay with touya until the day they both return home to face their fates.]
Next time, we can eat on the bed like slobs. I'll deal with the crumbs. [murmured into his skin. he nuzzles his mouth to his head in a small "shove" to love on tease him. then sinks back down in his seat. it's not romantic or anything.]
( it feels unnatural. had anyone in his family ever been this gentle? he can barely remember the early days, the time when he'd been so young that everything is just a haze, remembering only vaguely when fuyumi had been born, and then more, when he'd started more intense training, and everything that had crashed after that. that might be the most frustrating part of it: that however briefly, endeavor had been the kind of supportive father that would encourage him, rather than push him away, and his mother had been less of a weak-willed basket case, doting on him and his sister with equal measure. after that, everything becomes blurry, tainted, because natsuo's birth had been a disappointment, and then there had been the perfect masterpiece, and no more gentleness, no more attention, no more love. the last time his mother kissed him on the head had probably been when he was three. pathetic.
and here is katsuki, who grew up in a nice house, with nice parents, who had a nice quirk, who excelled at everything he tried to do--if he were in a worse mood, he'd consider it patronizing, the way that he leans over to kiss at his temple like he's comforting some sick, starved alley cat behind the convenience store.
but that's not what it means, he knows. the way that katsuki nuzzles up against him is for comfort, not disdain, not pity; his breath slides out past his lips slow, tinged with smoke and something else. )
How gracious of you, birthday boy. ( it's soft, a little quiet--he stretches out his free hand to nudge off a little more ash, puts his cigarette between his lips to stop himself from saying anything else.
it's a weird feeling, when they're like this. oddly comfortable, and he shouldn't lean too much into it, but: sitting here, with the quiet clatter of the restaurant around them, he can almost forget that they're being held here against their will. a smile threatens to curl around his cigarette, but he breathes the smoke out and it vanishes again, and the bartender returns with his refill, which means he's glancing at katsuki's glass. )
What, you don't like your drink? ( okay, now he's smiling--glinting, even, pleased. )
Anyway, eating in bed means you can watch movies or whatever. Nothing wrong with that.
( he at least has the good grace, or manners, or both, to snub out his cigarette when the staff returns with their plates: one set in front of each of them, and utensils provided. naturally, he's lifting up his chopsticks before saying anything at all; maybe that's as far as those good manners go, then. )
[pathetic. but not on touya's part. for a brief moment, their lives could've been the same. parents smiling down at their child, looking forward to the awakening of their quirks, dreaming of what amazing heroes they'd become in their lives ahead. impossible as fuck to imagine endeavor looking at anyone in such a manner... but it happened once. before everything went to hell. maybe it's the same as their society. glowing with smiles as heroes rose in admiration, proud public all grins as they looked forward to peaceful days and amazing saviors always arriving to keep them safe. all might, their symbol of peace, encouraging the next generation. and then everything went to hell. there's no way he can ever thank the villains for what they did, like fuck is he gonna encourage their actions... but somewhere in his mind, he's forced to acknowledge they made a point. corrupt governments, two-faced heroes, sympathetic villains, imbalance, injustice. it took a bunch of villains to rip away their blinders and show just how gross their society was. villains who could've been snatched from their path... if only someone had been there.
if only someone had said something sooner... would touya be more used to someone kissing him on the head?
kinda makes him wanna laugh. a somber, bittersweet thought. he always hated it when his mom or dad dropped one on his head. made him feel like a little kid, patronizing put down, as if he can't handle it on his own. embarrassing as fuck... because beneath his chuffing bristles, he feels warm and stupid inside. knowing someone loves him, someone's there if he needs them. doesn't matter if he thinks he can handle it all alone, he's not all alone.]
You're already looking forward to it. [hmph. touya's not the only one. fuck. when the hell's the last time he kicked back in bed with a snack and didn't care? can't remember. how lame. absent minded fingers play with the drink beside him, knuckle knocking on the small sidecar hanging on the rim.
he asked touya to spend his birthday with him. not some damn whim, he truly wanted it. because somewhere in this almost year, wariness towards the villain mellowed, disgust brushed aside, past crimes and history faded. he feels comfortable around him, enjoys his quiet character and derisive sarcasm. they bicker, he's learned to tease, and every now and then, this entire shitty world disappears. he's simply hanging out with a friend.
*pop* bubble snaps and a drink skims towards him, only now noticing he's been nursing on the glass rim without actually drinking the damn thing. touya comments and he instantly starts in annoyance before tilting the glass into his mouth, sidecar in his free hand.] --!! [SHIT! no, it hasn't magically transformed into a lemonade! still a fucking fireball! searing, kinda sweet, biting alcohol. he locks his jaw, refuses a gag or gasp freedom, and swallows it down completely. hooo! phuck! lips drag across the back of his hand with a wipe, trying his damnest to ignore the way his eyes threaten to water.] It's fine! I can do another, no problem!
[and voila! ... he's staring at another, half his face screwing up in personal insult. shit.]
You ever watched a movie with someone smacking away in your ear? [plates join his new drink-- thank fuck --and he takes his chopsticks in hand, a moment of silence to offer thanks for the food. probably no surprise he's got great manners despite his monstrous attitude. interesting touya's still instinctively holding onto some remnants of his background. then slips a piece past his lips.] Took me two damn weeks to find a decent movie here.
( the breath that escapes his lips sounds incredulous. )
Why the fuck are you sitting that close to someone to be eating in their ear? Some manners you got.
( mildly, even though he notices, to his amusement, that short of the blessing leaving bakugou's lips, he does at least pause before digging into his meal. cute and well-mannered. he only knows a little about bakugou's family, and shigaraki probably retained more of that information than he did, but: he recalls that fireball of a mother he has, and figures that the manners training likely came from her.
both of his parents grew up a little more traditional--he'd been scolded for elbows on the table more than once, by both. but then, none of that really matters anymore.
he picks at his food more than he eats it, pushing around rice, neatly spearing a bite to put into his mouth for consideration. he knows that bakugou will likely get pissy about it if he doesn't eat, but judging by the way those fireballs are going down, he might soon lack the wherewithal to even notice. the thought makes him laugh, but it's just a breath through his nose as he swallows; there's a careless shrug. )
Guess you're looking in the wrong place. I feel like Esikko found all the horror shit within the first few months. Guess some people here think it's sexy.
( the seemingly bored drawl of his voice says he's not necessarily one of those people who watches that sort of thing for the sexual thrill of it--but it does mean that he's considering other things, as he picks at his food again. )
You'd rather watch stupid action flicks? Or dumb romance? Think they've got a lot of that crap, at least.
( it's hard to imagine bakugou being any kind of romantic--or so he wants to say, so he wants to believe, but his jaw is working, and his gaze is focused on the back of the bar, like the sentiment doesn't quite taste right, like it doesn't quite fit.
a sidelong glance, then, as he at least has another bite. ) Tell me what you like. I'll look.
Haa? I wasn't talking about me! I meant those annoying extras!
[cue a pouting scowl glowering at touya over the rim of his cup, practically bubbling his spicy drink in petulant ire.]
Don't tell me that bun-head vampire or the split personality guy didn't do that in your groupies.
[how the hell did the league spend their time together, holed up in bars or warehouses? he knows they watched television, had snacks, drank, probably played cards and talked. of course one or two of them's gonna be smacking away in someone's ear, talking with their mouth full, being an obnoxious twit. touya might be the distanced semi-straight-man of the group, but that means he got trolled for the same damn reasons dunce face and soy face kept taking piss shots as him! tch, people are people, hero or villain.
and excuse you. his manners are fine. like touya, he was raised in a proper family. scolded for chewing with his mouth open, told to keep his arms off the table, blah blah fucking blah till it was pounded into his head. his parents had their pride. with their own dysfunctional dynamics even all might and aizawa blue-faced over. the thought runs through his mind: what would his mom and dad say if they ever met touya? as in their son bringing the guy home for a meal or a date or-
URK! shoulders hunch and he chokes down a piece of food, momentarily caught in his throat. guh! fucking brain! shut up! fireball or water, neither matter because he's throwing one back and chugging two gulps before slamming it back down with a growl. shit. he notices touya more or less picking at his food rather than chowing down. not sure why, unless the man ate already. he's never seemed to lack an appetite even if he preferred beer. mah, much as he cares, he's not his guardian. another piece down the hatch, crunching on fried shell and juicy filling.]
Che. Kinks are kinks. [grumpy shrug] Most of the movie I shoved through is smut crap. Same with books. Mask found a store without that junk though.
[surprised him, but hell if he and akira didn't spend the rest of the day reading comics and graphic novels without the risk of surprised-dick-face! on the next page. he certainly doesn't go watching movies or reading books to end up jerking off halfway through. what's the point?
he scoffs at touya's insinuation and prediction. well, one out of two ain't bad.]
I'm not watching some shitty chick flick.
[he says he has no romantic bone in his body. says. while spending his birthday with one special person. by choice. what would even be romantic in touya's mind? doesn't seem a flowers and chocolates guy. heh, probably a bow atop a six pack of beer and a cigarette box. remember anniversaries. make him feel noticed and wanted. take him out to dinner. gamble. kick back on the couch and talk about shit... WHY THE FUCK IS HIS THINKING ABOUT THIS?! touya's not even available to date for fuck's sake, shitty brain
he jumps on the movie topic with more rushed tone than he should have, half a growl off hunkered shoulders and somewhat echoing inside his cup as his glaring gaze lingers on a reflective surface in front of them, trying to find touya in the metal's warped image. distraction.]
Actions, thrillers, heists, mysteries if they're not fucking stupid. What about you?
( he expects the outbursts, expects the attitude, excepts that bakugou will get riled up and down and everywhere in between--but he doesn't expect that slightly rushed tone, the way that he seems to want to hurry through with an answer. pointedly, he lets it hang there, then, in muted silence; a rather large bite of his rice, pushed into his mouth, as though to prove that it's not as though he's avoiding eating, but more that he's just the type to still be wary despite everything. most food in this place is laced, unless it comes pre-packaged, which is why he tends to live out of the convenience stores: that, and the fact that it reminds him more of being home than anything else. this meal is too good for someone like him. reminds him more of being home, when his mother was still a mother and not the half-crazed basket case she'd become.
another bite then, now just to be annoying. to stretch out the silence further. to consider why bakugou would even start to grumble about something like this. maybe he has someone else he likes to watch movies with, or maybe he just doesn't like talking about dumb ways to pass the time: he probably prefers video games and training more than anything else, like any guy his age.
chopsticks still in hand, he reaches for his own fireball, swallowing down a mouthful. really not a great way to wash down breaded meat and rice, but he's nothing if not aggressively compliant: bakugou chose this, now he's stuck with it.
there's a breathy little laugh through his nose, amused. and finally: )
Chick flicks.
( an obvious lie, by the way his mouth cracks into a shit-eating grin--the way his eyes narrow, peering sidelong at bakugou before he directs his gaze back down towards his food again. )
I'm good with horror. Feels cathartic, or whatever.
( another bite, like he's trying to leave it at that--like he knows he shouldn't talk more, shouldn't share more about anything, no matter if it's bakugou or not; ten years of clamping down on sharing anything personal means that he stumbles more than he walks when it comes to deciding how or when to share his thoughts, or feelings, and most of the time he's done it in this place, it's been wrong.
the silence stretches there again, for a moment, before he continues. maybe it's the liquor. )
I read once that people who go through trauma or whatever, they like that kind of shit. You'd probably think it's stupid, but for people who can't process their feelings, it gives them an out. Rationalizes shit. Shows you what other people can overcome, or what they can't.
( tonguing at the inside of his cheek, he offers an almost defensive sort of shrug, trying for nonchalant. )
But movies are whatever, I'll watch pretty much anything. Can't say I'm big on anime, but.
( --if you wanted to watch it, i'd watch it goes unsaid. )
[he doesn't trust convenience store food any more than he trusts meals from restaurants. they all come from the peacock one way or another. whether they're packaged or cooked in the kitchen. red cardinal is the only venue he trusts enough to eat here without glowering in suspicion at his meal. a good chunk of rationale behind why he cooks for himself far more than he ever goes out to eat. ingredients can be laced, but if he kitchens the fuck out of them, way less chance of getting himself stuck in some horned-up bullshit. touya's feeling of nostalgia over convenience store food is another reason he defers to cooking for himself; it's what he did back home. red cardinal's no-nonsense atmosphere and simpler presentation are a relief from the gaudy crap shoved in his face all through the rest of the resort. chopsticks, rice, water, fireball, cabbage and onions, fried pork strips, miso soup...
dammit, normally he likes quiet, no bothersome dinner mate yacking in his ear nonstop. but this pregnant still is deliberate! as if he sees touya's wheels working in his head, thinking and wondering. what the hell's he trying to figure out? he answered his question about movies! was it the way he said it? ugh, like hell is he gonna admit where his own brain went a second ago! touya would mock him mercilessly for it! not like he's scared of someone making fun of him; they don't survive long. fuck, still lingering overhead, pervading between them as he unconsciously goes for his drink simultaneously with his dinner date's.
right now, he'll take the fireball's burn on his throat than the strange tension twisting on axis between them-]
Brgh-! [whatever that noise was, echoing inside his glass amid a few bubbles and backwash. gross. he plunks his glass down and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, red eyes burning a shot from their corners.] Bullshit!
[his little smarmy nose laugh and telling grin! as if he's gonna believe touya wearing such a face! he swings his leg aside, knocking his foot against the other man's in petulant revenge. grade a dick. he believes the second answer at least, picking up another wad of seasoned cabbage.]
Hmph. Not surprised. [he wants to ask monsters or human horrors, yet stays his tongue. only an idiot wouldn't recognize the taciturn response as a "here, now drop it" answer, and he'll take what he gets. done it plenty of times himself; people bugging him about his personal preferences and wanting to dig into them like it's their fucking business. if touya wants to share more, that'll be his call and no one else's.
hot juice spurts into his mouth and he's suddenly cupping his lips in an 'o' shape, puffing out small bursts of breath and heat to cool it off. damn hidden piece of scorch!]
I watched a few kidnapping films after summer. [his words are quiet, neither accusing or self-pitying. but rather admitting in confidence his own experience with what touya just said. he watched them and the reasons/emotions behind those decisions... were complex as fuck. pissed at the victim (himself) for getting captured, balming his injured psyche with their eventual victorious escape, rationalizing it could happen to anyone, right?]
It's not stupid; they're probably right. [and swallows his now-cooler piece. midoriya watched hero movies even after he learned he was quirkless. holding onto them as a hope or a cope. he brutalized the other boy for being so stupid back then... the memory even now twists his stomach to the point he pauses his next bite. some scars never fade, huh. and it's passed, he slips the rice past his lips. touya's not wrong about those movies being an out. confronting fears or weakness in a movie or story doesn't sound dumb to him. not now.]
I'll remember that if I find a good horror anime. [he stopped having time for anime once he hit middle school. the long seasons and episodes...] Pick one of your favorites and invite me over to watch it with you.
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no subject
Date: 8/26/25 15:56 (UTC)lips purse around a silent exhale, punching through his idle serpent of smoke. a different kind of scent. touya always smells a little of smoke, something burning or burnt. leather, skin, hair, cloth, cigarettes, wood. long since used to it, his aggression settles in a growling contentment whenever he breathes it in. touya's unique...
you know why he hates his birthday in this fucking shithole? because it's a tick on the damn calendar of imprisonment, his own weakness and failure rubbed in his face. touya's been here even long, six to eight months before him. pisses him off to see the man trapped in the same state. some part of him should find it hilarious, point and laugh the man who kidnapped and held him prisoner with his band of misfits is locked away inside the same cage. he wants to... he can't. anger flares up instead, as if slamming his fists into a wall that won't move. neither of them can accomplish their goals in this golden crap shot. how long does he have to wait knowing all for one is two seconds from tearing all might in half, knowing he's the only thing keeping a mad child from fusing with another mad child and obliterating everything. sitting here eating and drinking while his world hangs in suspended war.
he's snapped from distraction, red eyes fluttering once as touya's arm moves and shakes his thoughts. hmph, right. think on that shit later. there's something better to focus on right now. his arm drops from his cheek and snags his drink. instead of tilting a peer inside, he lifts the glass to one eye, touya's image inverted and half-submerged.]
Can't decide if I like your pout or smirk better. [smirk. definitely. making no motion to press away from his hand. his palm's heel, his fingers' tips, each slow motion up and down draws lazy patterns on his skin. nerves prickle and definitions flex instinctively, half of him wanting his shirt hiked up so skin on skin takes over, the other half reluctantly stays down.]
Sitting across from someone can feels like a damn war premonition. [especially in his own home, where his mom and he could get into arguments at the spark of a match. his lips quirk, unsure if he's grinning or frowning. be easier to keep his promise of eyes on touya in a booth, but pride keeps him at the bar. part of him wants to scoot his stool closer and lean into him. stupid arm encouraging fuzzy thoughts he stomps down inside.
touya's so caught up in his life before, each new memory and topic dunked in or screened through his blackened past. the past never dies, but to become so saturated in it the future can't exist except within it... fabric shifts, his body moves, one hand dropping to rest over touay's hand and ensuring it stays around his waist as he leans over and presses his lips on his temple. spiky strands of hair poke into his face and cheek, soft despite some brittle ends. i know. he hates it. for all his strength, he can't pull this man from his past or budge him from his damned course. but he doesn't have to let him walk it alone. fight, argue, bitter, confusion, bring it on. childish, yeah, but dammit if he won't make their meals together good times. so long as he can stay with touya until the day they both return home to face their fates.]
Next time, we can eat on the bed like slobs. I'll deal with the crumbs. [murmured into his skin. he nuzzles his mouth to his head in a small "shove" to
love ontease him. then sinks back down in his seat. it's not romantic or anything.]no subject
Date: 9/5/25 20:47 (UTC)and here is katsuki, who grew up in a nice house, with nice parents, who had a nice quirk, who excelled at everything he tried to do--if he were in a worse mood, he'd consider it patronizing, the way that he leans over to kiss at his temple like he's comforting some sick, starved alley cat behind the convenience store.
but that's not what it means, he knows. the way that katsuki nuzzles up against him is for comfort, not disdain, not pity; his breath slides out past his lips slow, tinged with smoke and something else. )
How gracious of you, birthday boy. ( it's soft, a little quiet--he stretches out his free hand to nudge off a little more ash, puts his cigarette between his lips to stop himself from saying anything else.
it's a weird feeling, when they're like this. oddly comfortable, and he shouldn't lean too much into it, but: sitting here, with the quiet clatter of the restaurant around them, he can almost forget that they're being held here against their will. a smile threatens to curl around his cigarette, but he breathes the smoke out and it vanishes again, and the bartender returns with his refill, which means he's glancing at katsuki's glass. )
What, you don't like your drink? ( okay, now he's smiling--glinting, even, pleased. )
Anyway, eating in bed means you can watch movies or whatever. Nothing wrong with that.
( he at least has the good grace, or manners, or both, to snub out his cigarette when the staff returns with their plates: one set in front of each of them, and utensils provided. naturally, he's lifting up his chopsticks before saying anything at all; maybe that's as far as those good manners go, then. )
no subject
Date: 9/8/25 18:30 (UTC)if only someone had said something sooner... would touya be more used to someone kissing him on the head?
kinda makes him wanna laugh. a somber, bittersweet thought. he always hated it when his mom or dad dropped one on his head. made him feel like a little kid, patronizing put down, as if he can't handle it on his own. embarrassing as fuck... because beneath his chuffing bristles, he feels warm and stupid inside. knowing someone loves him, someone's there if he needs them. doesn't matter if he thinks he can handle it all alone, he's not all alone.]
You're already looking forward to it. [hmph. touya's not the only one. fuck. when the hell's the last time he kicked back in bed with a snack and didn't care? can't remember. how lame. absent minded fingers play with the drink beside him, knuckle knocking on the small sidecar hanging on the rim.
he asked touya to spend his birthday with him. not some damn whim, he truly wanted it. because somewhere in this almost year, wariness towards the villain mellowed, disgust brushed aside, past crimes and history faded. he feels comfortable around him, enjoys his quiet character and derisive sarcasm. they bicker, he's learned to tease, and every now and then, this entire shitty world disappears. he's simply hanging out with a friend.
*pop* bubble snaps and a drink skims towards him, only now noticing he's been nursing on the glass rim without actually drinking the damn thing. touya comments and he instantly starts in annoyance before tilting the glass into his mouth, sidecar in his free hand.] --!! [SHIT! no, it hasn't magically transformed into a lemonade! still a fucking fireball! searing, kinda sweet, biting alcohol. he locks his jaw, refuses a gag or gasp freedom, and swallows it down completely. hooo! phuck! lips drag across the back of his hand with a wipe, trying his damnest to ignore the way his eyes threaten to water.] It's fine! I can do another, no problem!
[and voila! ... he's staring at another, half his face screwing up in personal insult. shit.]
You ever watched a movie with someone smacking away in your ear? [plates join his new drink-- thank fuck --and he takes his chopsticks in hand, a moment of silence to offer thanks for the food. probably no surprise he's got great manners despite his monstrous attitude. interesting touya's still instinctively holding onto some remnants of his background. then slips a piece past his lips.] Took me two damn weeks to find a decent movie here.
no subject
Date: 9/17/25 22:42 (UTC)Why the fuck are you sitting that close to someone to be eating in their ear? Some manners you got.
( mildly, even though he notices, to his amusement, that short of the blessing leaving bakugou's lips, he does at least pause before digging into his meal. cute and well-mannered. he only knows a little about bakugou's family, and shigaraki probably retained more of that information than he did, but: he recalls that fireball of a mother he has, and figures that the manners training likely came from her.
both of his parents grew up a little more traditional--he'd been scolded for elbows on the table more than once, by both. but then, none of that really matters anymore.
he picks at his food more than he eats it, pushing around rice, neatly spearing a bite to put into his mouth for consideration. he knows that bakugou will likely get pissy about it if he doesn't eat, but judging by the way those fireballs are going down, he might soon lack the wherewithal to even notice. the thought makes him laugh, but it's just a breath through his nose as he swallows; there's a careless shrug. )
Guess you're looking in the wrong place. I feel like Esikko found all the horror shit within the first few months. Guess some people here think it's sexy.
( the seemingly bored drawl of his voice says he's not necessarily one of those people who watches that sort of thing for the sexual thrill of it--but it does mean that he's considering other things, as he picks at his food again. )
You'd rather watch stupid action flicks? Or dumb romance? Think they've got a lot of that crap, at least.
( it's hard to imagine bakugou being any kind of romantic--or so he wants to say, so he wants to believe, but his jaw is working, and his gaze is focused on the back of the bar, like the sentiment doesn't quite taste right, like it doesn't quite fit.
a sidelong glance, then, as he at least has another bite. ) Tell me what you like. I'll look.
no subject
Date: 9/23/25 19:05 (UTC)[cue a pouting scowl glowering at touya over the rim of his cup, practically bubbling his spicy drink in petulant ire.]
Don't tell me that bun-head vampire or the split personality guy didn't do that in your groupies.
[how the hell did the league spend their time together, holed up in bars or warehouses? he knows they watched television, had snacks, drank, probably played cards and talked. of course one or two of them's gonna be smacking away in someone's ear, talking with their mouth full, being an obnoxious twit. touya might be the distanced semi-straight-man of the group, but that means he got trolled for the same damn reasons dunce face and soy face kept taking piss shots as him! tch, people are people, hero or villain.
and excuse you. his manners are fine. like touya, he was raised in a proper family. scolded for chewing with his mouth open, told to keep his arms off the table, blah blah fucking blah till it was pounded into his head. his parents had their pride. with their own dysfunctional dynamics even all might and aizawa blue-faced over. the thought runs through his mind: what would his mom and dad say if they ever met touya? as in their son bringing the guy home for a meal or a date or-
URK! shoulders hunch and he chokes down a piece of food, momentarily caught in his throat. guh! fucking brain! shut up! fireball or water, neither matter because he's throwing one back and chugging two gulps before slamming it back down with a growl. shit. he notices touya more or less picking at his food rather than chowing down. not sure why, unless the man ate already. he's never seemed to lack an appetite even if he preferred beer. mah, much as he cares, he's not his guardian. another piece down the hatch, crunching on fried shell and juicy filling.]
Che. Kinks are kinks. [grumpy shrug] Most of the movie I shoved through is smut crap. Same with books. Mask found a store without that junk though.
[surprised him, but hell if he and akira didn't spend the rest of the day reading comics and graphic novels without the risk of surprised-dick-face! on the next page. he certainly doesn't go watching movies or reading books to end up jerking off halfway through. what's the point?
he scoffs at touya's insinuation and prediction. well, one out of two ain't bad.]
I'm not watching some shitty chick flick.
[he says he has no romantic bone in his body. says. while spending his birthday with one special person. by choice. what would even be romantic in touya's mind? doesn't seem a flowers and chocolates guy. heh, probably a bow atop a six pack of beer and a cigarette box. remember anniversaries. make him feel noticed and wanted. take him out to dinner. gamble. kick back on the couch and talk about shit... WHY THE FUCK IS HIS THINKING ABOUT THIS?!
touya's not even available to date for fuck's sake, shitty brainhe jumps on the movie topic with more rushed tone than he should have, half a growl off hunkered shoulders and somewhat echoing inside his cup as his glaring gaze lingers on a reflective surface in front of them, trying to find touya in the metal's warped image. distraction.]
Actions, thrillers, heists, mysteries if they're not fucking stupid. What about you?
[if he says chick flick, he's gonna kick him.]
no subject
Date: 10/2/25 20:12 (UTC)another bite then, now just to be annoying. to stretch out the silence further. to consider why bakugou would even start to grumble about something like this. maybe he has someone else he likes to watch movies with, or maybe he just doesn't like talking about dumb ways to pass the time: he probably prefers video games and training more than anything else, like any guy his age.
chopsticks still in hand, he reaches for his own fireball, swallowing down a mouthful. really not a great way to wash down breaded meat and rice, but he's nothing if not aggressively compliant: bakugou chose this, now he's stuck with it.
there's a breathy little laugh through his nose, amused. and finally: )
Chick flicks.
( an obvious lie, by the way his mouth cracks into a shit-eating grin--the way his eyes narrow, peering sidelong at bakugou before he directs his gaze back down towards his food again. )
I'm good with horror. Feels cathartic, or whatever.
( another bite, like he's trying to leave it at that--like he knows he shouldn't talk more, shouldn't share more about anything, no matter if it's bakugou or not; ten years of clamping down on sharing anything personal means that he stumbles more than he walks when it comes to deciding how or when to share his thoughts, or feelings, and most of the time he's done it in this place, it's been wrong.
the silence stretches there again, for a moment, before he continues. maybe it's the liquor. )
I read once that people who go through trauma or whatever, they like that kind of shit. You'd probably think it's stupid, but for people who can't process their feelings, it gives them an out. Rationalizes shit. Shows you what other people can overcome, or what they can't.
( tonguing at the inside of his cheek, he offers an almost defensive sort of shrug, trying for nonchalant. )
But movies are whatever, I'll watch pretty much anything. Can't say I'm big on anime, but.
( --if you wanted to watch it, i'd watch it goes unsaid. )
no subject
Date: 10/13/25 19:33 (UTC)dammit, normally he likes quiet, no bothersome dinner mate yacking in his ear nonstop. but this pregnant still is deliberate! as if he sees touya's wheels working in his head, thinking and wondering. what the hell's he trying to figure out? he answered his question about movies! was it the way he said it? ugh, like hell is he gonna admit where his own brain went a second ago! touya would mock him mercilessly for it! not like he's scared of someone making fun of him; they don't survive long. fuck, still lingering overhead, pervading between them as he unconsciously goes for his drink simultaneously with his dinner date's.
right now, he'll take the fireball's burn on his throat than the strange tension twisting on axis between them-]
Brgh-! [whatever that noise was, echoing inside his glass amid a few bubbles and backwash. gross. he plunks his glass down and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, red eyes burning a shot from their corners.] Bullshit!
[his little smarmy nose laugh and telling grin! as if he's gonna believe touya wearing such a face! he swings his leg aside, knocking his foot against the other man's in petulant revenge. grade a dick. he believes the second answer at least, picking up another wad of seasoned cabbage.]
Hmph. Not surprised. [he wants to ask monsters or human horrors, yet stays his tongue. only an idiot wouldn't recognize the taciturn response as a "here, now drop it" answer, and he'll take what he gets. done it plenty of times himself; people bugging him about his personal preferences and wanting to dig into them like it's their fucking business. if touya wants to share more, that'll be his call and no one else's.
hot juice spurts into his mouth and he's suddenly cupping his lips in an 'o' shape, puffing out small bursts of breath and heat to cool it off. damn hidden piece of scorch!]
I watched a few kidnapping films after summer. [his words are quiet, neither accusing or self-pitying. but rather admitting in confidence his own experience with what touya just said. he watched them and the reasons/emotions behind those decisions... were complex as fuck. pissed at the victim (himself) for getting captured, balming his injured psyche with their eventual victorious escape, rationalizing it could happen to anyone, right?]
It's not stupid; they're probably right. [and swallows his now-cooler piece. midoriya watched hero movies even after he learned he was quirkless. holding onto them as a hope or a cope. he brutalized the other boy for being so stupid back then... the memory even now twists his stomach to the point he pauses his next bite. some scars never fade, huh. and it's passed, he slips the rice past his lips. touya's not wrong about those movies being an out. confronting fears or weakness in a movie or story doesn't sound dumb to him. not now.]
I'll remember that if I find a good horror anime. [he stopped having time for anime once he hit middle school. the long seasons and episodes...] Pick one of your favorites and invite me over to watch it with you.