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lady-october · 1 month

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Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Previous Chapters : 1-12 on Archive of Our Own

Story Content : 18+, Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Dom/Sub, Sadism/Masochism, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

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Chapter 13: Everything is so fucked

Chapter title is lyrics from "Teardrops"

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If there was ever a time for the ground to open up beneath my feet and put me out of my misery, it would be now.

Suddenly it was like the band members were taking turns trying to charm me, coming up with any excuse to get my attention, with Mat – the drummer of the group – coming on the strongest by a longshot, having effectively gotten me alone within a couple of hours after getting back on the bus.

We were both down on our knees, rummaging through some luggage next to his bunk as the bus gently swayed from driving along the straight desert motorway. He proclaimed he’d lost his best pair of earplugs that was necessary for the night due to Lee’s obnoxious snoring, which in turn had resulted in a heated argument about who snores the most. Once that settled down he’d casually yelled after me to help him look for them as he was already stalking up the stairs.

I really wasn’t used to this type of attention from men. Besides Oli, I’d only been approached maybe a handful of times – and that includes the creep at last night's party. I always just assumed men didn’t find me too attractive, but now I’m starting to think that maybe it had more to do with how I presented myself to the world. Being as chronically shy as I am, I mostly tried to hide myself, attempting to get as little attention as possible with my wardrobe choices. But since joining the tour – since everything that happened with my ex, and since trying to get out of my shell a bit more, I’ve essentially worn less and less each week, revealing more of my body than I had ever done before.

I knew it had successfully gotten Oli’s attention, but it turns out the others had apparently enjoyed the view as well. And while I was actually quite flattered, I was having enough of a hard time juggling Oli and all the confusing things he was making me feel. The last thing I needed right now was Mat having me go on a wild goose chase for some earplugs I wasn’t sure were missing in the first place.

After a couple minutes looking through the luggage with him, I fished out the second pair of earplugs I’d found, “What about these?”

His eyes lit up, and the warmest smile I’d ever seen on him emerged on his face.

“Bloody brilliant, love. We’d be lost without you.” He said in a low voice, his eyes meeting mine as he took them off of me. I noticed the lust lingering there, despite it being very subdued. Much like Oli, it turns out Mat was also a charmer, just a completely different flavour. Where Oli was passionate and deep, like an ocean and its all-consuming and unpredictable waves, Mat carried an earthy warmth to him. He seemed solid, reliable, in a way that made you feel like you’d known him your whole life.

I gave him a bashful smile before I started packing his luggage back up, but the bus swayed unexpectedly and I fell straight into his lap with a yelp, knocking him into the bunk opposite us from the impact. I held onto him, trying to prevent us from sliding further down the walkway, but he immediately grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me off of him.

“Bloody hell, you alright?” He asked, looking genuinely worried while helping us both back onto our knees – as if falling on him could have somehow injured me, then removed his hands from me completely.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I just knocked you over.” I said with a laugh.

He laughed, “I don’t want to be too forward with you, love.”

Realisation hit; he thought being so physically close to me, having touched me or accidentally felt my body against his, might have been inappropriate in some way – despite it not even having been his fault.

It was both endearing and ironic, considering he’d just made up losing his earplugs to get me alone. I couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“Not too forward? You’ve worked awfully hard to get me alone you know.”

My words slipped out of me before I had a chance to think about what I was saying – or how I was saying it. The flirtatious mood I’d just been in while texting Oli had clearly not worn off yet, and in combination with how relaxed I felt in Mat’s down to earth presence, I had let my guard down entirely, causing me to speak without my usual filter; causing me to sound incredibly flirty.

Panic set in as I saw Mat’s face shift to reveal more of the subdued lust that was emitting off of him, “That obvious, huh?”

Kicking myself mentally, I fumbled for words, not sure how to get myself out of the situation I had so foolishly put myself in. When I failed to produce a response, Mat pulled himself up, holding onto the top bunk as the bus continued to sway gently, then offered me a helping hand. Stunned, I simply took it and let him help me up.

But to my surprise he didn’t let go of my hand once I was standing.

I swallowed, my panic growing further, having me contemplate awkwardly making a run for the stairs, but Mat spoke before my brain had a chance to get itself out of the stunlock.

“You like Meg Myers, right?”

Another wave of shock washed over me; my first day on the tour Mat had asked me what music I was into, I’d blurted out Meg Myers in a rush as I was busy attempting to check off everything on Liam’s tasklist.

I couldn’t believe he remembered.

“Y-yes.” I answered, as it was the only response I could find while my fingers still rested in Mat’s warm and calloused hand.

“Well I know tomorrow’s schedule is unusually chaotic, but we’ve planned to spend some time with the opening bands after the gig. Just backstage of course, so about as informal as it gets,” He started, his sunny smile reappearing on his lips, this time laced with a suggestiveness that made me feel a blush creep up my face, “Would be lovely to spend some time with you then… Cause I gave Meg Myers a listen and I have to say I’m really enjoying what I’ve heard so far, both lyrically and musically she’s pretty impressive. Maybe we could talk about other music you like, or just get to know each other a little better in general.”

As he watched me with questioning eyes, having essentially just asked me out on a date, I was struggling to not visibly hyperventilate. Not only was I the reason he didn’t know what was going on between me and Oli, but I had also just unintentionally led him on by very obviously flirting with him.

It felt incredibly cruel to turn him down now, but I knew I had to.

I opened my mouth to speak, to let him down as gently as I possibly could, but he brought my hand up to his lips and gave it a chaste kiss, “I’ll save a seat next to me, love.”

Throwing me one last smile, he let go of my hand and began taking strides towards the stairs. I wanted to tell him to stop, to let him know I wasn’t up for anything he was suggesting, but he had disappeared before my tangled mind had sorted itself out.

Shit.

I was left standing in front of Mat’s open luggage, wondering how today had turned itself so completely upside down, so very quickly.

Trying not to cry out of frustration, I put away Mat’s luggage in a rush and started descending the stairs.

I couldn’t even make eye contact with Oli as I made a bee-line for the front of the bus; I decided that it was best if I spent the rest of the evening up front with Liam, where, hopefully, no one else would attempt to ask me out on a date.

As soon as I collapsed into the seat next to him he flooded me with apologies,

“Listen, Alice. I’m so sorry for asking about the nap thing at the diner, I had no clue it would spark such questions, but it was entirely too risky of me regardless.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault – they apparently already knew.” I said, feeling a nearly hysterical laughter trying to push its way up my throat.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Oh and Mat just asked me on a date.”

“What!?” Liam’s eyes went wide as saucers.

As I filled him in on all the details I was struck with such an overwhelming sense of dread that for a short moment I considered simply quitting this job and flying back home to England on the next available flight. The thought of spiralling down into suicidal misery and rotting in bed all day somehow felt more appealing than the prospect of these lies and broken hearts.

But as soon as I finished talking, Liam said something that snapped me out of it enough to at least consider my options further before throwing in the towel on the mess I’d created.

“Fucking hell, Alice... At least your life isn’t boring.”

While he had said it with pity in his heart, I couldn’t help but feel some hope. Because while my life was a complete disaster at the moment, I had, at the very least, managed to break free from the zombie-like state I’d been trapped in for the past 11 years.

When Liam parked up for the night I waited up front until everyone had gone upstairs. It wasn’t until the noises died down that I readied myself for bed and gingerly made my way up the steps to the second floor.

As soon as I pulled the privacy curtain on my bunk shut, I picked up my phone, knowing I had to fill Oli in on the events.

“Alice: Mat asked me to hangout with him tomorrow after the concert.”

I cringed as I had intentionally avoided the word ‘date’, but I knew the same point still came across.

His response came quickly.

“Oli: What did you say?”

“Alice: He didn’t give me a chance to respond.”

“Oli: Are you interested in him?”

Another quick response, followed up by an immediate reminder of the deal we struck earlier.

“Oli: Remember, no lying.”

His question made me feel uneasy, because the truth is someone like Mat used to be the exact type of guy I would find attractive. I would easily get crushes on guys that were charming in similar ways, or came across as laid back and down to earth. It didn’t help that he was the spitting image of a guy I used to have a work crush a couple of years ago.

It also didn’t help that he reminded me a fair bit of my ex. Or at least who he was in the beginning of our relationship, before things started to go down hill – before he changed. So I can’t help but feel like I could have enjoyed spending time with Mat, if it wasn’t for a certain someone who had taken me by storm, making me question what my type is at all anymore.

I took a deep breath, trying to think of a way to respond while both being honest, and trying to cause as little unnecessary jealousy as possible.

“Alice: I’m not sure he’s my type anymore.”

There was a longer pause between responses this time, causing me to tense up.

“Oli: Is your type by any chance a 3.8, singer from Sheffield?”

The tension left my body. Despite the knot in my stomach feeling like I was leading him on, some light-hearted flirting was a nice change of pace to our previously serious conversation. Plus it was hard to fight the urge to flirt with him, it just came so naturally.

“Alice: You know you’re a 10.”

“Oli: Is that so? We should go together perfectly then.”

I internally kicked myself as I felt the panic starting to grow again. It was just light-hearted flirting after all – something I had welcomed with open arms, and so willingly joined in on just a second ago. Yet the overwhelming sense of pressure I felt at his words was undeniable.

I knew I had to take some time to search within myself, to at least attempt to organise the chaos inside me and figure out what I need to do going forward with Oli. So I shoved the phone under my pillow, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.

Some time passed as I tried to centre myself, and the sounds of soft snoring could be heard all around me alongside the wind from the outside.

As I laid there trying to imagine different outcomes with Oli, and how they all made me feel, I continuously felt myself reaching for the mark on my wrist that he had so lovely kissed earlier today. The more times it happened, the more pressure was building inside me. I could feel a lump grow in my throat filled with trapped emotions that I didn’t know how to draw out without falling apart.

A vibration sounded from beneath my pillow.

“Oli: Night, love.”

It was such a short message, nothing special at all really, yet the emotions that rushed through my body at the sight of it left me with an intense urge to have him here with me in my bunk, holding me as I slept.

I have feelings for him.

My heart began to race at the thought. I didn’t want to allow myself to slip back into panic and run away from my emotions again, instead I gently touched the idea, allowing myself to warm up to the thought, knowing I don’t have time to run away anymore.

But all I could feel was deep, deep discomfort.

Sure, I was terrified, but it was more than that. Something a lot larger and complicated that yanked me in so many different directions I thought my limbs would be torn straight off.

Oli had stirred up so much in me, made me question things about myself, but there was one thing he had instilled in me with complete certainty; there are islands of undiscovered territory within my mind, soul, and heart – I feel incomplete, floating somewhere in the void, not quite tangible or actualized.

Should I really be with anyone at all when I understand this little about myself?

The thought of pursuing something – anything beyond what we were currently doing, made me feel a similar dread to the notion of never talking to him again. So what do you even do with that knowledge? How am I supposed to do anything but suspend myself in this state forever, to simply let myself enjoy him as long as I could before reaching whatever breaking point that was necessary to push me out of it.

I felt the sting of unshed tears behind my eyes.

I have feelings for him.

The shaking took hold of me as the floodgates opened involuntarily, sobbing as quietly as I could, hoping the sounds around me would drown me out as I wept, and I wouldn’t wake anyone.

Another vibration.

“Oli: Do you want me to come lay with you?”

I couldn’t help it, the tears came stronger at his thoughtful message, causing more shaking, and more subtle sounds to escape me.

I guess I hadn’t been as quiet as I’d hoped.

Suddenly I could hear the rustle of fabrics, and the subtle sounds of footsteps coming towards me. Then the curtain of my bunk was silently, ever so gently, pulled back to reveal the silhouette of a kneeling man, the man I apparently had feelings for, only the moonlight spilling in from the skylight letting me see hints of his sympathetic features. Wordlessly he leaned in, reaching out to wipe away some of my tears, caressing my cheek with such tenderness it threatened to unleash the restraints I had put on my crying, and made the lump in my throat grow infinitely more painful as I had to work overtime to push it down. Regardless of the pain, I couldn’t help but lean into his caress, the gesture filling me with such comfort despite coming from the reason I was crying in the first place.

My acceptance of his touch was all it took, he gestured for me to move over so he could slip in next to me. As soon as I did he carefully nestled me into his chest, holding me tight as I silently wept into his t-shirt in the cramped space of the bunk.

The longer I bathed in his scent, in his warmth, and the comforting sound of his steady heartbeat beneath my head, the more consumed with guilt I became.

I felt horrible for accepting his comfort. It wasn’t right, not with the realisations I just had.

One of the hands that had been holding onto me, let go in order to pull the curtain shut, making it seem like he intended to stay.

“You shouldn’t sleep here.” I whispered as softly as I could.

“I won’t. I’ll leave in a bit.” He replied, the whisper barely audible, his breath tickling the hair on top of my head.

The tears continued to stream from my eyes, soaking his shirt. I should tell him to leave now, I shouldn’t allow myself to steal this moment. But my heart wanted him to stay so desperately I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of him.

All I could do was apologise.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t respond, he just held me tighter, causing me to feel both infinitely better and worse all at once. I was so fed up with crying, I’d been crying more the past week than I had in years.

Some time passed and my tears finally came to a stop. I was so worn out from all the emotions, from all the guilt, that I just let myself relish the sensation of his hands on me, caressing me slowly, holding me close. How his body so effortlessly, so perfectly moulded to mine... I didn’t want the night to end.

But all things come to an end.

I must have nodded off, because before I knew it I was startled awake by the source of my comfort moving; Oli had opened the curtain and was attempting to untangle himself from me.

Without thinking I grabbed for him, not wanting him to leave, not wanting the emptiness to replace him.

My vision must have adjusted to the darkness because I could make out his features so much clearer now. He wore a similar expression to the one that had caused me to run away in fear in the storage room that night in the arena; filled to the brim with deep sadness and longing – an expression that clearly only surfaced when shrouded in darkness.

But I felt no fear this time.

“Stay.” I mouthed against my better judgement.

The confusion on him was obvious.

He studied my face for a long, thoughtful moment, then shook his head. I was hit with a pang of disappointment, but I wasn’t about to push him, especially when I didn’t know his reasons for wanting to leave. He gave my forehead a soft kiss, then slipped away.

The emptiness that followed was as hollow and cold as I’d expected it to be, leaving my night full of broken sleep and anxious thoughts of tomorrow.

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#oli sykes fic #oli sykes smut #oli sykes #bring me the horizon #oliver sykes #oli sykes fan fiction #smut #oli sykes x reader #you got a taste now

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madelinetess · 3 months

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Wouldn't it be nice?

“There are only ten minutes remaining till the end of this match and Richmond players seem to be in quite the pickle.”

“You are right Arlo, it does appear to be a dangerous situation for the greyhounds. As of now the score is 1:1 but Chelsea’s in possession and it looks like they may score the winning goal after all.”

“A beautiful pass from number 11, getting through Richmond’s defence, the only thing between the Chelsea Striker and leaving the match victorious is Richmond’s goalie, Zoreaux, who seems to be having a tough day today.”

“The greyhounds are relying quite heavily on their defence players today… What’s this? A beautiful kick by the Chelsea attacker! It’s soaring through the air and… By God, Arlo, did you see that?”

“If you are referring to the brilliant dive by Richmond’s number 13, then yes, I most definitely saw it. We simply have to look at it again, the way he got in there just in time to kick the ball right back into the stands, simply marvellous.”

A slow motion replay of Jan’s desperate save displayed on the screen accompanied by the cheers of the fans in the stands and the live commentary by both Chris Powell and Arlo White.

“The Dutchman did it again. He has definitely been the backbone of today's defence, foiling most of the scoring attempts. But back to the game, it is now time for Nelson Road residents to either try and keep the ball for the remaining four minutes, or to shock us with some clever closing play.”

“You never know what to expect from them, and they’ve been continually pulling all kinds of tricks from their sleeves. Chris, what do you think is going to happen?”

“It remains to be seen, Arlo, we’ll just have to wait.”

“Bumbercatch passes to Montlaur, Montlaur goes in to score, but no! It was a feint and it’s Jamie Tartt now with the ball. Tartt passes to Rojas who gets through Chelsea’s defence and gets the ball straight to number 12 and it’s a goal! A beautiful play by the Greyhounds mere seconds before the final whistle! Richmond winds up victorious with two goals from Tartt and Hughes respectively.”

“A beautiful display of teamwork indeed. It’s games like this one that truly highlight the unity of the Nelson Road Team, the famous ‘Richmond Way’ a term coined by Trent Crimm in his best selling book…”

The commentary was now fading away as the team exited the pitch, still euphoric after the win. Jan walked feeling exhausted but hyped up and was now heading to the locker room to celebrate along with the entirety of the team. The coaches were already there, waiting for them.

Everyone got seated and the room fell into silence, awaiting Roy’s words.

“Allright, I’ll make it quick. Good job Jamie, Colin,” He nodded at each respective player but then turned towards Jan “Jan Maas. You are the main reason we didn’t fuckin’ lose today!” Excitement in their manager’s voice crystal clear.

Dani was the first one to cheer, but soon everyone joined in and the whole locker room was once again filled with excited footballers. Shoulder pats and bear hugs were exchanged once again before Roy had to shout to get them to settle down and listen to the announcements.

“Oi! You have fifteen minutes to celebrate here, and after that I expect to see you all on the bus, ready to head to the hotel.”

With that Roy left to support Rebecca handling the interviews, and both Beard and Nate followed him out of the room, probably to settle some other matters.

The team changed quickly and it wasn’t even twenty minutes later that Jan sat next to Richard on the way to the hotel. The Dutchman pulled out a well loved book that was given to him for his birthday by the man sitting right next to him out of his bag. Richard himself could never read while in a moving vehicle, so as usual he opted for listening to music and looking out the window, completely zoned out.

The ride itself was short, and soon enough they all stood in the hotel lobby waiting to get their keys.

“Listen up people!” Coach Beard could be heard over the general ruckus “You get settled and then at 8PM sharp we meet in conference room 3 for our movie night! Jan Maas, today you get the honours of drawing the movie from our box of suggestions.”

A collective choir of whoops and whistles filled the foyer.

The movie night tradition became a thing when Ted was still their manager and it was one of the many things that stuck around even after he didn’t. Of course pillow fights also kept on happening, but the clean-up after a movie night is undoubtedly easier, and watching a silly movie is definitely a great way of winding down after a difficult match.

The box of suggestions though, was Phoebe’s idea that Roy decided to implement. At the beginning of the season each player got to write down one movie name on a post-it and put it in a purple glittery shoebox. Then, every movie night someone from the team would draw a piece of paper from said box and whatever it said, that was the movie they were going to watch.

The suggestions were obviously restricted, to the disappointment of both Moe and Richard. Richard’s, because almost everyone voted no, on classic French cinema, and Bumbercatch’s for reasons unspecified. The only other rule was no one was supposed to know who suggested what.

So obviously Jan and Richard turned into a game to see if they could guess who wrote down which movie. So far they were pretty sure that Dani suggested Night at the Museum and Sam was definitely the one who pitched Ratatouille, as for the other ones they were based purely on speculation. Both of them were pretty positive that Thierry picked How to lose a guy in 10 days. Richard kept disagreeing with him about who suggested Baby Driver, it was a tie between Jamie and Isaac, but for some reason the same disagreement also occurred while debating who picked Ocean’s Eleven.

Some other movies they watched included classics such as Jojo Rabbit, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Legally Blonde, The Greatest Showman, and Knives Out. The jury was still out on all of these.

They agreed not to disclose what movie they themselves suggested, to keep the game more interesting.

Jan however knew exactly what Richard picked. He remembers the first practice of the season, he remembers the weather outside, and the exact button up shirt that Richard wore that day.

Why does he remember that? Well, because he spent the entire after-practice meeting staring at the four undone upper buttons, and not thinking about what movie he should put down as his suggestion. That in turn meant he caught a glimpse of Richard’s post-it and the two titles written in neat handwriting. Duplex and 50 First Dates sat right there being deeply analysed by the Frenchman struggling to pick one. That’s when Jan decided, whichever one his friend doesn’t pick, he was going to write down.

The jangle of the room keys brought the Dutchman back to Earth. Richard has already gone and picked them up from coach Beard and was now motioning for Jan to follow him to their accommodations.

Most of the team roomed on the same floor, but the coaches made sure to get themselves settled the furthest away from the rest of the team. The rooms were nice enough, with a small balcony, two beds, wardrobe, a table with some chairs and an adjacent bathroom. Enough for a one night stay.

Richard immediately threw his things onto the bed by the window and sat down on it. After dozens of times sharing a room at away games Jan already knew that the Frenchman loved being woken up by the sun.

The Dutchman took the other bed and unpacked some of their bathroom things. There was no use taking two tubes of toothpaste, so they both agreed beforehand who was going to take one, same with soap and shampoo. Neither of them trusted the ones provided by the hotels.

After they were done unpacking they headed down to the dining room to grab some dinner before coming back up to their room to get changed into some sweatpants and comfy t-shirts and whatnot. Then the only thing left was to locate conference room number 3.

On the stairway they were joined by Colin, Isaac, Moe and a couple of the reserves. They already went up a flight before Reynolds stopped them to ask a question.

“Hold up, does anyone know where we are supposed to go?”

“Conference room 3, duh” Colin answered.

“Yeah, but do any of you actually know where that is?”

Everyone stopped in the middle of the stairway and shook their heads.

“Then where the hell are we going?” Goodman piped up.

“O'Brien, didn't you say that your roommate stayed back to ask the receptionist about it?”

“Yeah, he did.” Tom turned around as if to locate said roommate and didn’t seem to find him. Then he turned around again, hoping for a different result. That clearly didn’t seem to help. “I forgot Bhargava!” he yelled out and dashed down the stairs back to the rooms.

“Do you guys think he just locked him inside their room?” Colin asked, looking after the goalkeeper.

“Maybe he just forgot to tell him we were going already..?” Isaac supplied.

“Nah, he totally locked him in,” Richard laughed heartily and looked at Jan smiling which he reciprocated.

“Isn’t there a floorplan somewhere maybe?” Jan asked no one in particular. The Dutchman looked around trying to find something that would tell them where to go. While they were still standing around on the stairs they all heard O’Brien shouting.

“Lads! We got to go downstairs, not up!” A chorus of groans lasted a good ten seconds it took them to get downstairs and back to the lobby.

Once they finally reached the conference room Roy looked at them, then at his watch, and then back at them.

“What took you so long, you got fuckin’ lost, or something?”

“Well, what matters is that we are all here now.” Reynolds said after a beat of silence.

“That is the bare minimum, we said at 8, it’s 8:20”

“Actually, it’s only 8:17 so it’s closer to…” Goodman started but one look from their former captain turned manager shut him up.

"We need to learn how to appreciate the little things, like finding our way, or Richard…" Jan said, throwing an arm around his friend, who was standing right next to him.

The Frenchman was not amused, and rolled his eyes pointedly exaggerating the movement.

"Laugh all you want, I'm not the one that had to ask the hotel desk to get another duvet, because I didn't fit under the one that comes with the room."

“Fuckin’ hell… Enough of that, get inside, sit down and get ready to watch the movie.” Roy stopped them before they could drag the conversation out even longer. “Jan, come with me to pick the movie.”

Inside the conference room a projector was set up, along with a few rows of nice cushioned chairs to sit on. Roy stood in front of the chairs waiting for the footballers to settle down on their seats.

“Today's match was hard,”Roy began his speech. “but we pulled through. And we fuckin’ won!” Here Roy paused, waiting for the cheers to die down. “And we owe it not only to the ones scoring the goals, but to our defence as well, especially to Jan Maas over here, so Nate,” Here Roy turned to the shorter man, “Bring in the Box!”

Nate approached with the glittery shoebox and dramatically opened the lid before turning to Jan waiting for the Dutchman to pick out a post-it note with the title of today’s movie.

Jan covered his eyes and reached into the box pulling out a piece of paper folded twice, handing it to Roy and walking off to sit down on an empty chair next to Richard that the shorter man saved for him.

“And the movie of the evening is… 50 First Dates!”

Some people whooped, some looked around confused. Richard turned to look at Jan grinning. Jan returned the gesture for the second time today and turned to the screen waiting for the movie to start. He has never seen it before, but since Richard enjoyed it, then it must be nice.

The snack bowls were passed around, the light turned off, and the movie put on. Jan held onto the popcorn he was handed. For the next hour and a half every now and then the Frenchman would nudge him to get the bowl within his reach.

From time to time someone would snicker at some joke, Jamie definitely winced at the scene where Lucy beat Henry up, Thierry pointed out the fact that the dolphins were named Mary Kate and Ashley and Dani shot up during the diary burning scene to exclaim that it’s almost like that time when they were getting rid of the ghosts from the treatment room.

They all bawled their eyes out at the break up scene, and tissues had to be passed around during the final one. Jan ended up liking the movie and judging by the fact that by the end most of the players were trying to hold back tears, so did they.

Once the light came back on the coaches gave them ten minutes to tidy up, and get back to their rooms. Isaac and Sam stayed the longest to make sure everything was back to how it was beforehand, which meant Colin was stuck outside the doors waiting for his room key that his best friend held on to, Jan and Richard decided to keep him company.

“How’d you like the movie?” the Welshman asked, noticing how the two of them decided to wait around with him.

“I liked it” Jan simply answered “And you, Richard, you’ve seen it before, right?”

“Yeah, but I still find it enjoyable.”

“Yeah? Is it because Henry reminds you of… well, you?” Colin laughed

“Why? Because Dickie here is a shameless flirt, or actually a softie that cares a lot about penguins?” Colin joked as Isaac joined their group while Sam was locking up the conference room.

“I’ll have you know, penguins are actually great animals.”

“Yeah, and they are also the best secret agents in the world” the Nigerian finally joined their tiny circle, and they were able to start moving towards their rooms.

They all stopped in front of Sam and Dani’s room to talk a bit more before retiring for the night. Jan couldn’t help but notice how short Richard looked standing next to them all, well, maybe not next to Colin, but the rest of them towered over the Frenchman a little.

After about ten minutes of idle lounging around Colin yawned loudly prompting their discussion to halt.

“Need your beauty sleep?” Isaac asked.

“Better not, because he would need a lot of it.” Richard quipped.

“And remember, we have to be up early tomorrow.” Jan replied without missing a beat.

Colin flipped them both off as they bid the group farewell and took off in the direction of their room.

Back in their room they got ready to sleep taking turns in the bathroom. Richard went in first so when Jan exited after his own shower he was surprised to see his friend still up clearly waiting for him. As soon as the Frenchman noticed Jan was done in the bathroom he motioned for him to join him on the bed, so Jan did.

“So, who do you think picked the movie? I’m pretty sure both Dixon and Goodman recognised it but I’m not sure any of them would have picked it as their one choice.”

“How about Tommy Winchester?” Jan suggested trying to seem oblivious.

“Nah, that’s also not it…Maybe Reynolds?” the shorter man continued to speculate.

“How do I know it wasn’t you?” It might have been a bit of a risky move there, but it wasn’t unsound to assume that. “After all you did know the movie and I remember you mentioning something about liking Drew Barrymore romantic comedies…”

“It does make sense, but let me tell you a secret. I wanted to put that one down, but ended up picking a different movie.” Richard winked at him and it took all the self control Jan had to not reveal to him that he knows. “Also, you remembered that comment about Drew Barrymore? I didn’t even remember it until you mentioned it.”

“We are friends, I remember things about you. Things like your favourite actress… Maybe not the French cinema ones, because most of them I’ve never heard of, but you know… other ones…”

“Give French cinematography a try, you may end up liking it. We could put a film on during our next charcuterie night?”

“How did you end up liking it? I didn’t think goat farms had access to a lot of fancy French cinemas.”

“Well, my maman had a big city soul and I got it from her. She never did get out of the farm, but I did and have been living with splendour for the two of us ever since. Never looked back…”

“You never talked about her before… She sounds like a lovely woman.”

“She was… She was the only one who would get my father to dance with her. He was the most stern man you’ve ever met, but when she put on an old record and asked him to dance he would, just like that… Bought them an Adele record for their 20th wedding anniversary with the money I earned in my first job because that was the only new release at the local store. Père and I listen to it every time I visit him back home.”

They were now both lying down, propped up on the big pillow and looking at the ceiling, Richard leaning on him.

“What is your family like? I don’t think I ever heard you talking about them either…”

“Well, I have a brother and a sister, both older than me, and my parents own a small corner shop…”

Jan woke up in the middle of the night disoriented. He looked around and noticed someone lying on top of him.

Richard’s rhythmic breaths and the rise and fall of his chest calmly brought Jan back to Earth and stopped him from panicking lest he wake up the smaller man. They must have fallen asleep whilst talking.

The Dutchman looked back at his friend and smiled softly at how the other man curled up into him. He made a move to reach for the blanket at the foot of the bed without stirring the Frenchman but was unsuccessful in his attempt as the other man stirred awake.

“Morning… Well, not morning, but there isn’t really a greeting for the middle of the night…”

“Hello to you too… Can we go back to sleep, or are you gonna move some more?”

“I… Well, uh… Sure, let’s, let’s get back to sleeping.” Before lying back down Jan draped the blanket over the both of them and spared one last look at his best friend. He waited before Richard’s breathing slowed down again before speaking.

“I was the one who put down that movie… Because I saw you struggling to pick one, and I decided to pick the one you wrote off.” He was now absentmindedly tracing patterns on Richard’s right shoulder and arm while spilling some stuff he’d be too scared to admit in the daylight. “I couldn’t stop looking at you that day… And many days before and after that. It’s been a thing for quite some time. And now I’m thinking that I’d like to buy a gramophone so that we could get a vinyl of some Adele album and dance to it, and maybe visit your dad on the farm… You could show me the goats. I've never touched a goat before… And maybe we could grow older together, but not as friends… As something…”

“Just so you know, I’m not asleep yet…”Richard whispered softly as Jan's face dropped. “And I think I would like that too, but maybe we could talk about it more in the morning?” Jan’s face went from horrified to touched to happy as he hugged the man lying next to him.

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Richard’s head and burrowed his face in his hair. Richard in turn kissed his neck before turning to find a comfortable position and go back to sleep.

“Goodnight Richard”

“Goodnight Jan”

#janchard #richard montlaur #jan maas #it was supposed to be a short fic #long post #ted lasso #richmond movie night tradition #It was mentioned once that Richard likes romantic comedies with Drew Barrymore and here we are now #“I FORGOT BHARGAVA” is now immortalized in a fic #richmond boys #this got away from me...#spoilers for 50 first dates ig #Writing football commentary as both not a fan of the sport and not a native english speaker was... fun? Yeah it was fun.#I hope I did okay #I'll add the ao3 link in a reblog as soon as I post the fic on there

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grasshopperdoingdogpaddle · 1 year

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Do you have any Katnappe/ Ashley headcanons? I really like her temporary alliance with Omi. Do you think they would be friends if Ashley wasn't a villain? I like to imagine Omi playing with her kitties once in a while.

I loved Katnappe and Omi’s bond too! Omi personally stepped in to take care of her when he thought that she’d been seriously injured.

I love how empathetic and worried Omi is about the wellbeing of most of his enemies. He’s always the one to say they should help Jack, he said they shouldn’t stand by and let Wuya get eaten, and he set up a whole room for Katnappe to recover and wrapped up her sprained ankle himself, even when all the other monks make it clear they’d by pretty fine with those enemies outright dying. It’s a sweet side of Omi that shines most when he’s interacting with a Heylin enemy on neutral or friendly terms.

As for whether or not they’d be friends in better circumstances... I don’t know if either would ever call the other a friend, but they’d be on relatively good terms. Omi would see her as lovely but wily, and Ashley would see Omi as cute but gullible. A kid that’s useful for leading by the nose, and while Omi’s not as oblivious as she has him pegged, he’s usually happy to help either way.

If ever Katnappe wanted to defect to the side of good for some reason, the other monks would be doubtful, but Omi would be eager to give her a chance. So a bit like the situation with Jack, although Omi’s not as close with Ashley as he is with Jack.

Anyway, onto Katnappe headcanons:

She’s older than Jack. Not by much, barely even a year, if that, but she proudly lords that over him, along with the fact that she’s taller than him since he still hasn’t hit his growth spurt. She taunts him for immature things like being scared of clowns and sleeping with a teddy bear. He argues that she sleeps with tons of cat stuffed animals, but she insists that’s mature and classy and incomparable.

She’s a perfectly normal human; no superpowers or anything. Her superhuman levels of strength, agility, reflexes, flexibility, and speed and skill with close-quarters combat comes from her athleticism. When she was younger, she did gymnastics, and now that she’s older, she’s a cheerleader. She’s basically a mix between Batman and Kim Possible.

Her position on her cheerleader squad is main base, since she’s the strongest one on the team

All her kittens are rescues she found on the street. They were very sickly runts when she first found them, barely able to survive on their own at all. She not only nursed them back to health, she personally researched day and night until she could perfect a way to genetically engineer them stronger and fluffier and healthier.

Tubbimura’s chihuahua is also a rescue, which is something Katnappe and him bond about.

She’s brilliant at science, specifically genetics and biology. She easily excels at all things STEM, but the humanities bore and confuse her. Her grades across the board are fantastic though; for the stem classes, she handles them herself with ease. Everything else, she either cheats at it or makes other people do them for her (usually by flirting with nerdy humanity guys or blackmailing other students).

She has her own lab at home.

Her position on the cheerleader squad is main base, because she’s the strongest person on the team.

She designed her catsuit herself, including the claws and shuriken. She wanted to make sure it was something that covered her well enough to hide her identity, since unlike Jack, she has a reputation as Ashley that she doesn’t want tarnished by her evildoing side gig

Has extensive underground connections, since she deals in stolen art. She’s actually met Pandabubba before because of shenanigans involving this. They said little to each other, but complimented each other’s outfits and nails.

Comes from a very rich family. Her parents have their hands in countless businesses and political dealings. Which has resulted in Katnappe being dragged to a lot of stuffy parties and formal dinners as the only child there. It’s what’s fueled her rebellious streak, but her parents have the resources and connections to cover for her if she does mess up.

She’s the biggest troll on the Heylin forums aside from Kimiko.

Constantly makes the cheesiest catpuns possible

She’s a terrible cook, but since she’s willing to eat catfood and whole raw fish, that doesn’t matter much. Her favorite food is expensive sushi.

Cats are the only animals she gets along with, for the most part.

Has a furrsona she commissioned from her favorite online artist. She is unaware that this artist was Kimiko’s friend, Keiko.

#Katnappe #Omi #Xiaolin Showdown #Tubbimura #Pandabubba #Jack Spicer #anonymous

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yjwhatif · 2 years

Text

RANDOM NOTES FOR TARGETS…

This is super late but I wanted to get it out before reading the final issue…

ONE...

gar: why didn't she come to me?

cassie: c'mon gar. why do you think? you're her ex.

tim just awkwardly moves away from that subject: annnyway...

I always love a reference to the under-explored ill-fated romance of Cassie and Tim… rip WonderBird!

TWO...

its nice to see all the love ollie is getting whilst he's in his coma - in past seasons he's usually the one receiving all the criticism for the decisions he makes... in s1 he was the one to tell clone!roy about the watchtower, s2 original!roy hates him for not having saved him from lex/the light and there was the added guilt ollie felt for all the tragedies that seemed to have befallen those he was mentor to, then in s3 dinah was hating on him for going along with batman and resigning from the justice league. but now in this comic series weve seen cissie clearly care about him, lian, perdita, dinah - its all very nice to see.

THREE...

i had a random thought regarding the squad animal choices... raptor squad were in charge of observing and executing a targeted attack on Henchy - like a bird praying on its meal then flying down to strike. gorilla squad go straight into their attack - big and loud as a gorilla would if it needs to... also, I did a bit of googling on gorilla behaviour and it said they aren't actually as aggressive as they are often represented to be and unless they absolutely have to, they will make themselves look as threatening as possible by making a lot of noise to intimidate their enemy before actually attacking -- which is interesting, and made me think, you could say gorilla squads job is to make a lot of noise and direct the enemies toward them while mganns alpha squad sneak in undetected to find Perdita... I may be reaching with that interpretation and it might not actually make sense but that's just what came to my mind. then there's mongoose squad who are the backup team, quick, agile and the surprise cavalry you dont expect who pack a pretty heavy punch, the mongoose may be small and not look like much but they are capable of taking on a cobra and winning. (ill be honest this point made way more sense in my head and now ive written it down it does not.)

FOUR...

Match is back! i do really love how this show doesnt forget about things of previous seasons - like, in s4 when dick says bibbo got security cameras specifically in response to his abduction by the kroloteans back in s2 - they didnt need to give a reason for the cctv, but by having one it keeps everything tightly knit together and shows that nothings wasted - even with more minor characters... to me its the same with match being brought back here - any other show would have introduced match in s1 then forgotten about him and never bothered mentioning him again - but not yj - things might not get talked about constantly but that definitely doesn’t mean they’ve been forgotten… that’s why anything is possible with yj.

FIVE…

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THE ARRIVAL OF MONGOOSE SQUAD! That whole two page spread is epic and looks amazing. It honestly gives off the same amount of energy as it would have had it been animated - when I first read these pages they got me so pumped for the rest - it gave me the same energy as the arrival of the heroes in Summit. It’s also great to see that all the outsiders are getting to play some part in this story - something that was obviously very lacking in s4 - I love seeing how everyone’s powers are translated into the printed format - massive kudos to Chris jones and Jason wright for crafting that - it’s so brilliant!!

SIX…

The “call Brandon!” sticky note on Barbara’s fridge - do we know anyone called Brandon or is it just a nod to Brandon viette? My guess is the latter but I thought I’d still put it out there.

SEVEN…

Cassie vs Devastation - so cool… Cassie being face slammed against the floor by devastation - so not cool! Ouch dude - that has got to hurt!!!

EIGHT…

I like how they show the broken comm signal as oracle tries to warn Conner about the kryptonite - it works really well at building the tension in conjunction with the imagery of match collapses atop of Conner… it certainly had me at the edge of my seat when I first read it.

NINE…

I’m gonna be honest, when I first saw metallo I thought it was another superboy clone situation but lex had crafted this one into a cyborg this time - he does kinda looks like Conner… it wasn’t until I read the next issue I realised he was someone else, then I realised he does actually say his name in #4 and he obviously wouldn’t be a Kryptonian clone because he’s literally fuelled by kryptonite… so yeah, in short I’m an idiot and I don’t know anything about metallo but he does look pretty cool.

TEN…

I really love how they colour the memories, there’s this soft, almost fuzziness to them which really emphasises the fact that these are moments of the past being remembered in comparison to the main present day plot. It’s a nice touch.

ELEVEN…

Ollie really went through some injuries as he kept perdita safe - though he never once stops protecting her despite all the bumps and bruises and arrow impalements - it’s great seeing their bond grow as things keep escalating.

TWELVE…

I really love that first page of perdita walking aimlessly through complete darkness demanding answers - it’s eerie and mysterious - I can totally imagine it animated and her words echoing in this hollow void. Love it.

THIRTEEN…

Virgil being squad leader for Mongoose Squad is so cool - it’s about time we saw him properly in a leadership role where he’s actually respected instead of being the joke of the group because he can’t think of what to do next. Obviously we’re still not actually seeing him give specific strategical instructions here, as the goal is just pick an evil robots and take it down, but it still shows a lot of growth for him since s2. Back then he was always so eager to be a hero capable of taking charge and guiding others towards victory, the problem was that eagerness always got the better of him and prevented him from figuring out the strategies needed when under pressure. Though his moment of leadership in Illusion of Control proved he was certainly ready to take on that responsibility - he just needed confidence in his ability to believe that - it’s good to see he’s finally got that. You go Virgil!

FOURTEEN…

I’m slightly concerned that robot just broke Bart’s back… I’m sure it didn’t and even if it did do some kind of damage, I’m sure Bart will probably just heal as he always does - but I’m still concerned about the boy! Also, I don’t know if it’s just a case of the narrative needing Bart out of the fight because he could potentially deal with a lot more than the plot wants him to, or if he’s just genuinely being clumsy, because he seems to be getting injured a lot recently. Bart you either need to pay more attention to your surroundings or just stay away from green things - they never do you any good!

FIFTEEN…

I’m gonna guess Shimmer melted Courtney’s staff is probably definitely not a good thing!

SIXTEEN…

Well Luthor certainly did a number on mr Juan Cordero, didn’t he… I mean, JEEZ! Honestly, the more we see of these metas Luthors taken under his wing (manipulated) the more I’m like - thank goodness for roy getting kicked off the team and tagging along with the runaway’s that time because they seriously dodged a bullet by cutting ties with lex when they did… imagine the way things might have turned out had that not happened!

SEVENTEEN…

“When I found out I was a metahuman with self healing abilities I figured everyone would treat me like a total freak.” Dude, self healing is not a freakish power - it’s actually a pretty damn cool power - one that would only be known about if someone either saw you heal or if you told them about it - so if you’re issues with image then you’re pretty golden. it’s also not really something you can lose control of unless you’re purposely getting yourself into scraps and scrapes. It’s really not that bad… ya wanna know what definitely is freakish - BECOMING A FRICKIN ROBOT WITH ONLY YOUR FACE LEFT GRAFTED ONTO IT!! THATS INSANE!!

EIGHTEEN…

“Scarab, we are NOT nuking the building, and I am NOT having this conversation!” Blue arguing with scarab is always a joy to witness - I’ve missed that!

NINETEEN…

I see you looking over at perdita roy… now tell me what is the situation with these two - are they together or not?! There are vibes and I have wanted answers since the first issue!! GIVE THEM TO ME!!

TWENTY…

I like how vertigo’s power is illustrated - the wobbly layers look really cool!

TWENTY ONE…

Poor perdita, Will just drops her catatonic form on the floor so he can worship queen bee - where’s Ollie the human shield when ya need him… oh ye, he’s in a coma.

TWENTY TWO…

So, it is cool to see queen bee and her power finally being used to cause havoc with one of the teams and for it to not only be the boys who are affected by her but also Violet who is of course also attracted to women - that’s all cool… I’m just like - I really want queen bees powers to be used to reveal a character’s sexuality that hasn’t previously been made canon in the show - I just think it would make for a great moment… like with Ed and Bart, who were unjustly denied their s3 reveal (I will never not be over that!), I wanna see them not being affected by her power, or alternatively, any of the female characters that are speculated about by the fandom, like zatanna, Raquel, traci, it would be cool seeing any of them being affected. It would be a really simple way - especially for the more minor characters who aren’t able to get a lot of plot time, to reveal this kind of information to the audience without needing to say a word or spend much time on it… but that’s just my opinion.

TWENTY THREE…

And once again everyone is dead… well, 50% of everyone… I’m sure they’re not staying dead… they never do… unless their names are Wally, Tula or Tomar-Re… The question is how will things be reversed? Is it another martian mind trick or could halo heal them or something else entirely? Guess we will find out soon…

The one thing I’ll add about this situation is that they really need to consider pulling back on the fakeout deaths… unless they surprise us all by actually committing to the kills - which isn’t gonna happen - we’ve had a lot of death fakeouts recently and the more they happen the less effective the moments becomes… compare the emotional response of this moment to when Kaldur killed Artemis back in s2 - with the s2 moment theres shock, confusion, disbelief - nothing like it had happened before so you truly believed things were real, up until the truth was revealed and with it you’re still feeling a whole load of emotions… with this moment, other than the initial oh no that’s not good, I don’t really feel anything towards it because I don’t expect them to stay dead for long. And that’s all I’ll say about that.

TWENTY FOUR…

Violets little bashful wave at queen bee is kinda adorable… while whatever Roy’s face is doing is definitely not!

TWENTY FIVE…

Ollie: that’s me. Always hogging the limelight.

Merlyn: ah yes. Lime. Green. So clever.

Ollie: wasn’t actually attempting a pun there, but whatever.

This moment should not be as funny as it is - but it is! I love it!

TWENTY SIX…

Perdita high-fiving Ollie after taking down Merlyn is a great moment! They’re so adorable together and I love seeing perdita being a happy/giddy 10 year old when she can be - her little face and excited jump for joy at Ollies proposal to Dinah is way too cute!!

TWENTY SEVEN…

I am now very intrigued as to how long Ollie and Dinah have been engaged and if they ever actually got married - because if they have been married this whole time, then that makes ollies walking out with Batman in s3 very bloody awkward… I shouldn’t laugh, but there’s just something a little bit funny about Batman breaking up their marriage… I’m sure that didn’t happen… or at least I hope that didn’t happen… 😬

TWENTY EIGHT…

Some random prediction I guess for the final issue… they’ve established this engagement so I’d presume the wedding or some sort of celebration will take place to close out the final memory. I think Wally’s gonna show up somewhere - probably in the final memory - and considering this is all taking place on November 11th, which is Wallys birthday, I’m gonna say they’ll be some sort of anniversary gathering/acknowledgment of that fact. In terms of how the fight against the robot and queen bee is gonna conclude - I have no idea - same goes for how perditas gonna be saved… in all honesty, the only thing I’m truly hoping for is some confirmation on the relationship status of roy and perdita! (I don’t ask for much)

TWENTY NINE…

Anyway, I’ve really enjoyed Target and will be sad to see it end - here’s hoping for this not to be the final chapter! There is honestly so much story yet to be explored in this universe and I hope whoever at dc/WB realises it’s just as worth making as all the other stuff they’ve greenlit!

#renewyoungjustice

THIRTY…

If you’ve stuck around this far, thanks for reading!

#renewyoungjustice #young justice #yj #yj targets spoilers #young justice targets #my random thoughts #young justice phantoms #young justice outsiders #renew young justice #long post #perdita vladek #cassie sandsmark #conner kent #oliver queen #bart allen #virgil hawkins #roy harper #not my pictures

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every-marveler-ever · 2 years

Text

Game Day Experience

Flufftober Day 9: Game Day (Sports)

😒 TONY STARK BINGO MARK VI - R1) On Opposing Sides

🎖️ SAM STEVE BINGO 2022 - Rivals

masterlist

(Ao3 Link)

A/N: I apologise in advance I know nothing about American football, I am not American and I barely know enough about my own AFL culture in Australia. I’ve tried to do a lot of research on teams, the ability, and how the game plays but honestly, I have no clue, so just be steady with me. Enjoy!

PAIRING(S): Sam Wilson/Steve Rogers

RATING: Teen

WARNING(S): Football, NFL

flufftober 2022 | tsb 😒 mark vi | ssb 🎖️ 2022

At Superbowl LIX, people are calling this the game of the century as they watch married man Sam Wilson play for New Orleans Saints against his very own husband Steve Rogers playing for the New York Giants.

“And we are live!” The lady smiles into the camera lens, she’s bright and bubbly just the way female sports news anchors are supposed to be. Her smile only widens as she continues to talk “hello today we are live at the Superbowl LIX, and people are calling this the game of the century as we watch married man Sam Wilson play for New Orleans Saints against his very own husband Steve Rogers playing for the New York Giants. We can't wait to see how this game plays out.”

As the camera cuts to show the excitement from the fans Natasha Romanoff finds herself back in her normal state away from the bubbly blonde mess that she pretends to be on camera. Nodding her head towards the changerooms her cameraman Clint understands just what she's saying and packs up his camera away and walks with her.

This isn’t either of their first Superbowl and hopefully won’t be either of their last, “it really is a different atmosphere this year,” clint produces taking a gulp of water before continuing, “I mean the teams are basically rivals and yet they’re like married to each other, how crazy is that?” Clint is not wrong it’s a once-in-a-lifetime event that they have a married couple playing against each other at the Superbowl.

Natasha laughs along, “Sam and Steve are best friends but I know for a fact that they not letting either of them get in the way of a victory.” Having known Steve for as long as Natasha has she knows the competitive spirit that he has doesn’t extend to just Sam it goes way past that, they’re wedding was a whole competition, their whole life together has always been a competition. She smiles thinking about college, and how much easier it once was, “the only time they’ve been on the same team in college, since joining the NFL for some reason people are too scared to put together a power couple, something to do with an unfair advantage,” she shrugs, showing off her prior knowledge and the reason why she has her job in the first place.

In the change rooms, it’s a mess of players half dressed and loud crowds of screaming and excitement about the upcoming match they are about to play, it’s brilliant footage that Clint is capturing. For the first time in history, the two opposing teams are in connected change rooms, all together and mingling. Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson can be seen on a bench with arms around each other. Steve screams above all the others over at Natasha, “well if it isn’t my favourite journalist,” he yells departing from Sam and making his way to hug the female in question.

Laughing they hold onto each other before having to get back to their own respective jobs in the field. Steve pulls Sam along to join their interview, “hello we are back and we are talking with the famous couple on everyone’s mind tonight, how are you both feeling? Is there some competitive love in the air tonight?”

Sam knows where Natasha is going with this and so he responds for the both of them, “I feel like there would be if this teddy bear would let go of me to actually be with my team,” he smiles jokingly. Knowing that this moment will be in youtube compilations of them together for centuries on, they really did make a rift in the NFL culture when both came out as boyfriends and then Steve engaged with his Superbowl ring in the middle of training one day, they made history with ever walking step.

“It’s a tactic,” Steve shrugs holding onto Sam tighter this time, “we are on opposing sides and all that.” Sam rolls his eyes at his husband's insufferable tendencies. He loves him anyway.

Natasha on the other hand knows that she’ll be commentating on next year’s Super Bowl from this interaction alone. If only it was like college instead.

Cards: @flufftober @samstevebingo2022 @tonystarkbingo

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sakichi56 · 2 years

Text

Am I the only one who wasn't really sold on the latest Dragon Ball movie?

Like, I loved the scenes with Piccolo and Pan, (except for them saying Pan could fly even though the DBS series SHOWED her flying around the Earth with the Pilaf gang hanging onto her for dear life) I loved seeing him trying to get Gohan back in shape both as a fighter and a father. It was nice to see Goten and Trunks FINALLY aging up. And I loved that it tried to bring the backup characters into focus (mostly Piccolo, and even seemed to make it look like he is in charge of the Z Fighters when Goku and Vegeta aren't on the planet).

But the way it was done was just bad. Piccolo is not someone who takes risks, he is a tactically brilliant fighter who is calm and level headed above all else. Yes, he has a temper, but he would not charge into a situation he knew he couldn't handle without a VERY big reason., especially if he hadn't passed along all pertinent information to someone else yet in case he died. And he could have too, he could have spoken to Gohan in his mind and shared everything with him, but instead they made him try to play around to shock Gohan back into getting strong? Thats just ridiculous, Piccolo could just force Gohan back into training like he has always done. Or, you know, they could Hve not made this an issue at all. How many times are they going to pull the whole "Gohan stopped training because there is peace and he believes there can't possibly be another disaster waiting around the corner to endanger his family" thing. They already made him start training with Piccolo for the TOP because he was worried about not being strong enough to protect his family. Stop giving character development and taking it back just to give it again, it isn't impactful, its just bad writing.

Also, Shenron just being able to give Piccolo that power? Why didn't Dende think to up the Dragon Balls for that any of the other times the world was in trouble if he could do that? Don't even get me started on how TERRIBLE that form looks. It doesn't even look like Piccolo anymore, it looks more like an offbrand Sashimi. Not to mention that the Namekian race has never had different forms before, so we could have just been told Piccolo got the power spike and that was what made him on par again and it would have been more believable. Speaking of forms, why does Gohan have such a drastically different form? Why not just give him one like Goku or Vegeta's? The one he got just looks like that fan made Super Saiyan 5 but with slightly shorter hair.

On the topic of looks, why did they change so much visually? I'm not even talking about the stupid CG animation, with all the other issues that one is hardly even a noticeable complaint anymore. I mean why is Piccolo's blood red now? He is an alien, it makes sense for him to have different colored blood. And why are his arm pads yellow now? I know thats how they were in the manga, but the anime established yellow as being for the old Namekian's while pink is for the younger ones. It had been that way since OG Dragon Ball. Are they trying to say Piccolo is getting older now? Because he can't be that old. His head hasn't started to wrinkle yet and even his sire had pink pads still, and he was definitely older than Piccolo is now. Did they just change it because they wanted to make it closer to Toriyama's original view? Thats not right, you can revoke something that has been in place for 34 years. If Toriyama wanted things to look his way, he should have better informed the animation team back in the 80's. Its just like Trunks hair color. They kept young Trunks lavender in Super, but made Future Trunks blue, and now young Trunks is growing up and his hair is suddenly blue? That doesn't make sense either. They need to accept that some things have been set by time and for too long to be changed, OR give a good reason in universe for the change.

The story beats were unimpressive but passable for a Dragon Ball film, (aside from Pan being in on the whole thing, that one was a twist that felt exciting, good job there!) the Gamma 1 & Gamma 2 guys being good made sense, and of course they would send Gamma 1 to Capsule Corp after everything was over. Gohan learning the Special Beam Cannon in secret to make Piccolo proud was also predictable writing for a way to explain why he can do something he shouldn't be able to do, but it feels wrong considering we have been told that Gohan doesn't see a point in training since there is peace.

As others are saying, Goku and Vegeta served no purpose in their scenes other than to pander to the audience to try to remind them that it is still Dragon Ball and Goku and Vegeta are still there so you shouldn't get bored. But we didn't need those scenes, the movie was marketed as being about Piccolo and Gohan, we knew what we were getting into, we didn't need to see the Saiyans at all. Cut them out and just tell us that they were off world training and Whis couldn't be reached, thats enough, or heck, maybe Bulma couldn't call at all because she couldn't find her device, either would have worked.

The Cheelai and Beerus crap was weird, came out of nowhere and was uncomfortable to watch. Could have cut that too and used that time to give us better explanations on the characters that were actually important to the film. I mean, sure it was nice to see that Broly and his friends were safe there, but we didn't need that weird Beerus simping for Cheelai stuff to do that.

Likewise, we didn't need all the butt jokes. Those were stupid, even it they were aimed at kids, they weren't funny, nobody around me in the theater laughed at any of them. I even heard one guy sitting above me complaining about having to see Gotenks unclothed butt and he loudly said he hoped Piccolo would slap some new pants on them or that they would defuse sooner. Those are juvenile jokes that just don't hit. Just say Bulma was wishing for youth again, that does the job it needs to and doesn't bring all the childish butt jokes that aren't funny to begin with.

Oh, and let's talk about how Videl and Gohan just use Piccolo as some kind of free on call servant. Its one thing to do a favor once in a while for someone you care about, but Piccolo seems like he does more for Pan than either Videl or Gohan do. And if Videl and Gohan are both too stupid to see that and step up as parents, then that is a problem. Heck, Toriyama said all those dumb plushes were because Gohan and Videl honestly thought Piccolo liked them when he was just trying to be nice and spare Pan's feelings by pretending to like it. Piccolo is a terrible actor, we have seen that before. Why is Gohan suddenly too dumb to tell when Piccolo is faking it? Just feels wrong and out of character for Gohan, someone who should know Piccolo better than anyone else, and makes Videl and even less likeable character. No self respecting mother is going to prioritize a class over their daughter.

Finally, the elephant in the room, Cell. Wtf? No, seriously, like, was this a jab at the fans for wanting Cell back when we saw Frieza was returning? Giving us a husk with none of the personality and reasons we ACTUALLY LIKED THE CHARACTER, just to spite us?? Why? At that point, it could have been any old giant android! It didn't even HAVE to resemble Cell at all, let alone share his name! They did it better in the TOP, they didn't need to do it again. The characters (other than Pan, Piccolo and Gohan) didn't even need to be there. 18 didn't even do anything other than say 1 line, and also she had a daughter of her own to look after, what was Marron in school or something? Did she leave her with Roshi of all people?? If Krillin is at work then she has to be with Marron, that was the previously established rule, why is it different now? Gotenks and Krillin were just there for comedic relief, which could have been cut for more emotional scenes with the important characters. Gamma 2 made a big sacrifice and it didn't even hit because we didn't have enough time with the character or enough build up with him to make us care.

All in all, loved that they tried to do something about someone OTHER than Vegeta and Goku for once, but it was poorly executed and they tried to shove too much into too short a run time and couldn't get it right. Getting it a 5/10 from me.

It is honestly one of my least favorite Dragon Ball Movies ever. Kind of gave off Bio Broly vibes near the end, but worse? But it gets a 5 simply for trying to make something about someone other than freaking Goku and Vegeta, the moments with Piccolo and Pan, and because the Gammas were funny and likeable.

Friend sent me this image and said it summarized the entire movie for her and I thought that was hilarious but sadly true, so I'm including it.

#Dragon Ball Super Super Hero #Dragon Ball #I am not sorry

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chaucer-blackwood · 2 years

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I was wondering. What's your view of the conflict that happened between Team RWBY and Ozpin? Either an in universe view or meta view (like how they are written and how well)

This is one of those "hot topic" things in the fandom, isn't it? Alright, I'll play.

Ozpin was an ass. But he was an ass for an understandable reason.

Before anything else, I think we really, really need to remember what we, those of us who were already in the fandom at that point and had been for some time, were actually thinking.

People seem to have forgotten that for a long, long time leading up to the premiere of The Lost Fable, there was a popular theory that Ozpin might've actually been responsible for Salem; that his actions in the past somehow screwed her over and gave her a justifiable grudge against him. A few were honestly speculating that he was actually evil, a hidden villain who'd been puppeteering the heroes all along for his own ends.

Theories about him sending Summer to her death or being responsible for this or that villain's origin story were rampant for the entirety of the first five volumes. That's five full years real-world time, guys.

In Volume 6, chapter 2, when Team RWBY go after him like they do, fed up with his secret-keeping and demanding he finally gives them answers, that's not just them being unreasonable abusers so many want to paint them as; it's not even solely the justified emotional response of people sick of being lied to: It's exactly what the audience wanted to see.

We all, at the time, wanted exactly this; we wanted Ozpin called out for his secret-keeping, and we wanted his secrets spilled out in the open, and the fact that he was resisting and fighting tooth and nail against it just made us that much more insatiable to know what secrets he was keeping.

Because, hey, if he's that determined to hide it, it must be really bad right?

And then... it's really not. Turns out he was easily the biggest victim in that whole mess. A victim of Salem, arguably a victim of the Brothers (that's an entirely different conversation).

Perceptions shift. We finally see the man behind the curtain, and it's not at all what we expect. Suddenly Ozpin's not the secretive mastermind cunningly manipulating the heroes, he's not even the brilliant mentor slyly guiding them along his plan to victory; he's a sad broken man barely holding the world together, lonely and terrified of yet more betrayal. So terrified he'll lie to his own allies to keep them from abandoning him (again).

Another problem actually arises here: people see Team RWBY's reaction as not flowing naturally from what they just witnessed. There's an incongruity here, and it bears elaboration: we already knew Salem was immortal. Or at least, we assumed it. It had never been outright stated in the series, but I think most people were pretty clear that if Salem could be killed by any conventional means, it would've happened already. We didn't know the extent of her immortality, or the cause, but was anyone actually shocked to learn that she can't simply be killed?

Out of everything we learn, that is the single least-surprising element of the entire story. So, when it becomes clear that Team RWBY thought Salem could theoretically be killed like any other Grimm, it doesn't really follow for the audience. Then that's the thing the show chooses to focus on like it's a shocking reveal, when to the audience it really doesn't feel like one. From Team RWBY's perspective, they've been risking their lives for what just turned out to be an impossible mission, and that emotional reaction overrides sympathy for Ozpin's motives, and they've heard enough people claiming he's untrustworthy that they're as primed to believe the worst as we were. But because the audience fully expected some form of "She can't easily be killed" to come up, well, it doesn't sit that way for the audience, who will be focusing far more on Ozpin's tragic story. So from they're perspective, Team RWBY are completely unjustified in their anger.

#rwby #rwby meta #rwby analysis #long reads #rwby ozpin

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tinyyoungblood · 3 years

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OOO OK hear me out: headcanon of midnight fast food runs with all the avengers. somehow everyone’s awake at 3 am so everyone gets piled into a car, half asleep, peter driving and y/n playing the best music, just to walk into like mcdonald’s and getting recognized and it’s just the best thing ever

a/n: you creative child, this is brilliant!! thank u for sending it in :’) here you go, another headcanon bc this is how i cope lol enjoy

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the avengers + 3 am midnight runs

it’s 3:30 am and it’s one of those nights

no can sleep, everyone is awake for various reasons and they’re all sick of blindly tossing around. then they hear the elevator ding from out the hallway and they immediately perk up

they all get up at the same time and open their doors at the same time

bruce: “we have to stop spending so much time together”

then they silently shuffle toward the elevator to see who it is

thor, peter and y/n step out, all holding a venti iced latte and a mcmuffin and everyone acts like it’s grossing them out because it’s too early for food

but their eyes meet and it’s one of those moments where you know you’re about to do something careless and stupid but you do it anyway

they all squeeze into the elevator in their pyjamas without uttering a word and wiggle their way into the 10 passenger van they always use for bonding trips

y/n, peter and thor follow without protest bc Sleep Is For The Weak

peter somehow ends up in the driver’s seat while y/n gets to drive shotgun and no one notices bc everyone’s too busy fighting tooth and nail to get some room but then the car almost hits a lantern and someone screams

(it was loki)

“sHIT eyes on the road stark!!!” “wilson, i’m sitting right next to you?” “then who’s driving”

y/n, cheerily: “peter is!” “yep! and i think i’m doing a pretty good job too! can you believe i’ve only driven in parking lots and once in a car chase? funny right” “yOU WHAT-“

y/n switches to random stations to have it play quietly in the background but then ‘driver’s license’ comes on and peter whoops and rolls down the windows while y/n yanks up the volume

the avengers are flabbergasted because why are the younglings getting so excited about a song that is about heartbreak?

30 seconds later, they get it

sam pulls up lyrics, tony and nat chime in on the chorus with peter and y/n, and the others pull out flashlights and lighters to hold them up

bucky tries to wipe away his tears without anyone noticing, and steve smirks at him because ofc he saw it. he’s not impressed when bucky hisses at him

and then the bridge hits and everyone loses their minds

safety is thrown to the wind, everyone rolls down their windows and sticks out their heads and arms while screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs

it’s too cinematic to be real tbh but it’s GREAT

and that’s how the longest night of the year starts. not technically, but it sure feels like it because so much happens

mcdonald’s is lawless land and the avengers are on a mission to wholeheartedly contribute to the vibe

some guy waiting in line: “hey aren’t you the god of thunder? you’re an avenger right?”

thor, literally carrying mjolnir and very obviously traveling with the team: “never heard of them”

clint is an old man and it’s clearly past his bed time but he refuses to be left out of this, so he fluctuates between napping the moment they sit down and trying to drag everyone along to wander around

steve is 100% that one super super nice stranger you start a super deep conversation with and it leaves you in a great mood for the rest of the night

he even ends up exchanging numbers with a nice lady that does art workshops so now steve has a new place to flaunt his artistic vein :)

it’s literally 3 am but nat and loki look flawless. it’s ridiculous. they’re sauntering through this place, looking like the gods of hell, and leaving other insomniacs utterly speechless

they’re all turning their heads to stare after them because have they officially lost their minds? how does one look so intimidating but so magnificent

tony is the king of insomnia, he’s INVENTED it and it’s his city now, but once he’s out he’s out and no one has the heart to wake him up

he falls asleep in the most uncomfortable positions/places all night

he’s literally on top of a stranger’s car and they really have to go and the avengers are all shoving each other to be the one who has to interrupt his precious sleep

eventually bucky ends up carrying tony and he wakes up as they’re walking back

tony, patting bucky on the cheek before hopping down: “thanks buck”

peter being a class one protégé and passionate insomniac himself follows in his mentor’s footsteps and falls asleep everywhere, and although it’s kinda concerning, the team understands it shows his trust in them

he gets used to waking up in steve or thor’s arms

one time sam tossed him over his shoulder to get back to the car and peter is aghast, he is appalled, how dare he not carry him bridal style like the rest of the avengers, he deserves it-

they go get frozen yoghurt and steve only wants the healthy mango sorbet but y/n convinces him to try some of hers, which is vanilla chocolate fudge and oreo pieces

“that’s awful” “you want another bite” “yes”

(steve rogers is a whore for chocolate but you’ll never see him admit it)

nat challenges clint and bruce to fill their cups as high as possible so now they’re all stretched out on their stomaches on the floor by the yoghurt machines, ankles crossed, and navigating their cups to make the highest frozen yoghurt tower the world has ever seen

this starts a whole series of competitions in the middle of the store including who can leg press the most people

it ends up being a tie between steve, bucky, thor, and peter. they each had nat, tony, bruce AND loki and didn’t even break a sweat

“y/n, close your mouth”

but the night eventually does come to an end and everyone is huddled inside the van, some are already lightly snoring, and tony’s driving

once they’re back at the compound they don’t feel like parting ways though, so they wordlessly go to their rooms to grab all the pillows and blankets they can find

once they’re all sprawled on the ground in the living room, sleep comes easily especially after a night like that <3

* * *

stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

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be-gay-do-heists · 3 years

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hello yall :) the holy month of elul started last night, which is typically a time for contemplation, so since it is impossible for me to stop thinking about leverage, i decided to write an essay. hope anyone interested in reading it enjoys, and that it makes at least a little sense!! spoilers for leverage redemption

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Leverage, Judaism, and “Doing the Work”: An Essay for Elul

When it comes to Elul and the approaching High Holidays, Leverage might seem like an odd topic to meditate on.

The TNT crime drama that ran from 2008-2012, and which released a new season this summer following its renewal, centers on a group of found-family thieves who help the victims of corporations and oligarchs (sometimes based on real-world examples), using wacky heists and cons to bring down the rich and powerful. In one episode, the team’s clients want to reclaim their father’s prized Glimt piece that had been stolen in the Shoah and never returned, but aside from this and the throwaway lines and jokes standard for most mainstream television, there’s not a ton textually Jewish about Leverage. However, despite this, I have found that the show has strong resonance among Jewish fans, and lots of potential for analysis along Jewish themes. This tends to focus on one character in particular: the group’s brilliant, pop culture-savvy, and personable hacker, Alec Hardison, played by the phenomenally talented Aldis Hodge.

I can’t remember when or where I first encountered a reading of Hardison as Jewish, but not only is this a somewhat popular interpretation, it doesn’t feel like that much of a leap. In the show itself, Hardison has a couple of the aforementioned throwaway lines that potentially point to him being Jewish, even if they’re only in service of that moment’s grift. It’s hard to point to what exactly makes reading Hardison as Jewish feel so natural. My first guess is the easy way Hardison fits into the traditional paradigms of Jewish masculinity explored by scholars such as Daniel Boyarin (2). Most of the time, the hacker is not portrayed as athletic or physical; he is usually the foil to the team’s more physically-adept characters like fighter Eliot, or thief Parker. Indeed, Hardison’s strength is mental, expressed not only through his computer wizardry but his passions for science, technology, music, popular media, as well as his studious research into whatever scenario the group might come up against. In spite of his self-identification as a “geek,” Hardison is nevertheless confident, emotionally sensitive, and secure in his masculinity. I would argue he is representative of the traditional Jewish masculine ideal, originating in the rabbinic period and solidified in medieval Europe, of the dedicated and thoughtful scholar (3). Another reason for popular readings of Hardison as Jewish may be the desire for more representation of Jews of color. Although mainstream American Jewish institutions are beginning to recognize the incredible diversity of Jews in the United States (4), and popular figures such as Tiffany Haddish are amplifying the experiences of non-white Jews, it is still difficult to find Jews of color represented in popular media. For those eager to see this kind of representation, then, interpreting Hardison, a black man who places himself tangential to Jewishness, in this way is a tempting avenue.

Regardless, all of the above remains fan interpretation, and there was little in the text of the show that seriously tied Judaism into Hardison’s identity. At least, until we got this beautiful speech from Hardison in the very first episode of the renewed show, directed at the character of Harry Wilson, a former corporate lawyer looking to atone for the injustice he was partner to throughout his career:

“In the Jewish faith, repentance, redemption, is a process. You can’t make restitution and then promise to change. You have to change first. Do the work, Harry. Then and only then can you begin to ask for forgiveness. [...] So this… this isn’t the win. It’s the start, Harry.”

I was floored to hear this speech, and thrilled that it explained the reboot’s title, Leverage: Redemption. Although not mentioned by its Hebrew name, teshuvah forms the whole basis for the new season. Teshuvah is the concept of repentance or atonement for the sins one has committed. Stemming from the root shuv/shuva, it carries the literal sense of “return.” In a spiritual context, this usually means a return to G-d, of finding one’s way back to holiness and by extension good favor in the eyes of the Divine. But equally important is restoring one’s relationships with fellow humans by repairing any hurt one has caused over the past year. This is of special significance in the holy month of Elul, leading into Rosh haShanah, the Yamim Noraim, and Yom Kippur, but one can undertake a journey of redemption at any point in time. That teshuvah is a journey is a vital message for Harry to hear; one job, one reparative act isn’t enough to overturn years of being on the wrong side of justice, to his chagrin. As the season progresses, we get to watch his path of teshuvah unfold, with all its frustrations and consequences. Harry grows into his role as a fixer, not only someone who can find jobs and marks for the team, but fixes what he has broken or harmed.

So why was Hardison the one to make this speech?

I do maintain that it does provide a stronger textual basis for reading Hardison as Jewish by implication (though the brief on-screen explanation for why he knows about teshuvah, that his foster-parent Nana raised a multi-faith household, is important in its own merit, and meshes well with his character traits of empathy and understanding for diverse experiences). However, beyond this, Hardison isn’t exactly an archetypical model for teshuvah. In the original series, he was the youngest character of the main ensemble, a hacking prodigy in the start of his adult career, with few mistakes or slights against others under his belt. In one flashback we see that his possibly first crime was stealing from the Bank of Iceland to pay off his Nana’s medical bills, and that his other early hacking exploits were in the service of fulfilling personal desires, with only those who could afford to pay the bill as targets. Indeed, in the middle of his speech, Hardison points to Eliot, the character with the most violent and gritty past who views his work with the Leverage team as atonement, for a prime example of ongoing teshuvah. So while no one is perfect and everyone has a reason for doing teshuvah, this question of why Hardison is the one to give this series-defining speech inspired me to look at his character choices and behavior, and see how they resonate with a different but interrelated Jewish principle, that of tikkun olam.

Tikkun olam is literally translated as “repairing the world,” and can take many different forms, such as protecting the rights of vulnerable people in society, or giving tzedakah (5). In modern times, tikkun olam is often the rallying cry for Jewish social activists, particularly among environmentalists for whom literally restoring the health of the natural world is the key goal. Teshuvah and tikkun olam are intertwined (the former is the latter performed at an interpersonal level) and both hold a sense of fixing or repairing, but tikkun olam really revolves around a person feeling called to address an injustice that they may have not had a personal hand in creating. Hardison’s sense of a universal scale of justice which he has the power to help right on a global level and his newfound drive to do humanitarian work, picked up sometime after the end of the original series, make tikkun olam a central value for his character. This is why we get this nice bit of dialogue from Eliot to Hardison in the second episode of the reboot, when the latter’s outside efforts to organize international aid start distracting him from his work with the team: “Is [humanitarian work] a side gig? In our line of work, you’re one of the best. But in that line of work… you’re the only one, man.” The character who most exemplifies teshuvah reminds Hardison of his amazing ability to effect change for the better on a huge stage, to do some effective tikkun olam. It’s this acknowledgement of where Hardison can do the most good that prompts the character’s absence for the remainder of the episodes released thus far, turning his side gig into his main gig.

With this in mind, it will be interesting to see where Hardison’s arc for this season goes. Separated from the rest of the team, the hacker still has remarkable power to change the world, because it is, after all, the “age of the geek.” However, he is still one person. For all that both teshuvah and tikkun olam are individual responsibilities and require individual decision-making and effort, the latter especially relies on collective work to actually make things happen. Hardison leaving is better than trying to do humanitarian work and Leverage at the same time, but there’s only so long he can be the “only one” in the field before burning out. I’m reminded of one of the most famous (for good reason) maxims in Judaism:

It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you free to neglect it. (6)

Elul is traditionally a time for introspection and heeding the calls to repentance. After a year where it’s never been easier to feel powerless and drained by everything going on around us, I think it’s worth taking the time to examine what kind of work we are capable of in our own lives. Maybe it’s fixing the very recent and tangible hurts we’ve left behind, like Harry. Maybe it’s the little changes for the better that we make every day, motivated by our sense of responsibility, like Eliot. And maybe it’s the grueling challenge of major social change, like Hardison. And if any of this work gets too much, who can we fall back on for support and healing? Determining what needs repair, working on our own scale and where our efforts are most helpful, and thereby contributing to justice in realistic ways means that we can start the new year fresh, having contemplated in holiday fashion how we can be better agents in the world.

Shana tovah u’metukah and ketivah tovah to all (7), and may the work we do in the coming year be for good!

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(1) Disclaimer: everybody’s fandom experiences are different, and this is just what I’ve picked up on in my short time watching and enjoying this show with others.

(2) See, for example, the introduction and first chapter of Boyarin’s book Unheroic Conduct: The Rise of Heterosexuality and the Invention of the Jewish Man (I especially recommend at least this portion if you are interested in queer theory and Judaic studies). There he explores the development of Jewish masculinity in direct opposition to Christian masculine standards.

(3) I might even go so far as to place Hardison well within the Jewish masculine ideal of Edelkayt, gentle and studious nobility (although I would hesitate to call him timid, another trait associated with Edelkayt). Boyarin explains that this scholarly, non-athletic model of man did not carry negative associations in the historical Jewish mindset, but was rather the height of attractiveness (Boyarin, 2, 51).

(4) Jews of color make up 20% of American Jews, according to statistics from Be’chol Lashon, and this number is projected to increase as American demographics continue to change: https://globaljews.org/about/mission/.

(5) Tzedakah is commonly known as righteous charity. According to traditional authority Maimonides, it should be given anonymously and without embarrassment to the person in need, generous, and designed to help the recipient become self-sufficient.

(6) Rabbi Tarfon, Pirkei Avot, 2:16

(7) “A good and sweet year” and “a good inscription [in the Book of Life]”

#leverage #miko speaks #jewish stuff #jumblr #leverage redemption #spoilers #lr spoilers #leverage redemption spoilers #written for a non leverage audience because i want my rabbi to read it alskdjflaksdjf #elul

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

peter parker taglist

@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12

if i forgot you please lmk!

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #spiderman #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (1/2)

Requested: Yes

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! Anon, I assume you wanted to see each individual relationship with the girls and not OT4 x Reader. If not, I apologize, but I hope you enjoy this regardless.

This post includes Jisoo and Jennie. If you would like to see Rosé and Lisa's, click the link below.

Click for Rosé and Lisa

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Jisoo

Kim Jisoo: The girl at the top of her class, breezing through her school years with little competition whatsoever. She was used to winning, and anyone that ever tried to challenge her eventually gave up.

You: Also used to being at the top of your class, you were the first person to actually give Jisoo a run for her money. You didn't shy away when challenged by her, and that took her aback.

Your rivalry was one rooted in academics.

When a new project was assigned and you were allowed to choose your teammates, everyone would flock to the two of you in hopes of getting picked.

Bragging rights were awarded to whoever had the longest line of people.

Impatiently waiting to see who scored higher on tests.

Rubbing it in when you did better, and vice versa.

"Ha! Take that, Jisoo. I got a 98."

"Don't get cocky, Y/N. I beat you by 6 points last week."

"Yeah, yeah," you brush her off. "Look who's on top now." You hold your paper up, smiling when she rolls her eyes.

Other competitions were held, and even the teachers caught on and would adjust their lessons accordingly.

"Class, today we'll be having a set of one on one debates, and an anonymous vote will determine the winner of each. The person who defends their opinion the most effectively will win. Jisoo and Y/N, you're up first."

Although losing was always annoying, it made you respect each other a little more.

You both loathed and revered each other, though you'd never let that secret out.

Fighting for the best scholarships and rankings.

Constant bickering and one liners in class

"Should I go ahead and apologize now, or is it okay to wait?"

"Apoligize for what?"

"Ending your career."

*unintelligible mumbling*

"What was that, Y/N?" Jisoo inquires, cocking her head to the side as she narrows her eyes at you.

"I said: you're going down."

She scoffs at that, unaffected. "Please, I'd like to see you try."

You ended up winning that day, and she was all *surprised pikachu*

School would always be interesting and eventful with her

Pretty much everyone else can tell that you have a thing for one another, but the two of you remain oblivious.

Turning Point

Both of you joined the academic team when you enrolled, which meant that you'd be going toe to toe with other school teams in pursuit of the winning title.

On one of your overnight field trips to face off against another school, you were assigned to the same hotel room.

"Mrs. Wilson, I can't stay with her--" You walk down the hotel hallway behind your instructor, hoping she'll see your point. Her reasoning for putting you together on the roster is beyond you.

"Y/N, it's only for a night. You know we can't afford to give all of you individual rooms; our budget's already small." She reasons, eventually turning towards you when she reaches the elevator.

"Alright," you relent with a sigh, putting your hands up.

What she says next surprises you. "Who knows, you might enjoy it." A knowing look shines in her eye, and a small smirk threatens to tug at her features.

The elevator dings just as you go to question her about it, and she bids you farewell before heading in.

You can do this, Y/N. It's just one night; how bad can it be? You ask yourself, taking your sweet time in going back to the room.

---

An Hour Later

In an attempt to kill some time and recover from the fatigue your long road trip brought on, you've been trying to relax and take a nap. In fashion with your typical luck, though, Jisoo is making that nearly impossible.

"Jisoo, turn it down!" You groan, tossing a pillow at her head. She sits on the loveseat at the foot of your bed, completely fixated on the images flashing before her eyes as she plays her video game.

"Shhh, stop distracting me." She says over her shoulder, making you huff.

You value your pride too much to ask nicely, so you suck it up and stick it out for a little while longer. When she lets out a loud shout a few minutes later, though, you've reached the end of your patience.

Wordlessly, you get out of bed and stomp over to the TV, standing directly in front of it.

"Y/N, move! I'll lose!"

You stay there with your arms crossed, and are soon rewarded by the game's voiceover announcing: "Game over."

She huffs and sets her controller down, clearly upset.

"Sucks when people don't listen, huh?" You challenge, still mad that you've been denied a proper nap for so long. Every time you'd be right on the cusp of being drug under, slipping in and out of glorious slumber, she'd do something to ruin it. You're cranky now, and being petty seems like a just punishment for her.

"I can't believe you did that," she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "That was the championship match!"

"Oh well," you shrug, a smirk tugging at your lips at that new piece of info. Perhaps justice has been served after all.

With one more warning glance at her to tell her not to do it again, you go back to the bed and get comfy, settling under the warm blankets.

---

30 Minutes Later

"ON YOUR RIGHT, ABOUT TO ROUND THE CORNER!" Jisoo bellows out, smirking when she feels you stir behind her. You scowl, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

"Jisoo, I swear to God," you grumble, feeling the irritation rise in you all over again. You get up again and approach her, but she has a plan this time. In one fluid motion, she sticks her foot out in front of you, making you stumble and fall to the ground.

"What the--" as you prepare to reprimand her, you see something out of your peripheral. Aided by your new perspective, you spot the remote controller on the coffee table right in front of you, just an arm's length away.

When Jisoo notices that you haven't screamed at her yet, she looks down and realizes her mistake. A dramatic moment passes where you both lock eyes, before immediately diving for the remote. You manage to get to it first, quickly hugging it close to your body and rolling away from her. She pounces a second later, reaching her hands around you to pry it from your grip.

"Give it back, Y/N!"

"No!"

You writhe underneath her until she manages to get the upper hand, straddling your hips in an attempt to pin you down. She sits back on her knees, gazing down at you as your chests heave from the effort you've exerted.

"Give it." She commands, holding her hand out expectantly.

You shake your head, amused that she thought that would be enough to sway you. "No."

"Then you leave me no choice." Her hands dart forward to your abdomen, and she begins tickling you mercilessly in order to make you surrender. Calls for her to cease her assault struggle past your lips, but you know it's futile. She's a determined person just like you, and she won't stop until she gets what she wants.

So, after taking a second to think of a way out of your predicament, a brilliant idea pops into your head.

You finally let her pry your arms open, smirking when she cheers and claims victory. In one fluid motion, just as she had done before, you wrap your leg around one of hers and flip her onto her back before leaning down to kiss her. She tenses up at first, but her hands end up working their way to your hips as her lips begin to move against yours.

Your plan is backfiring a bit; you only intended to shock her and buy yourself time to steal the remote back -- you never thought you'd actually enjoy the feeling of her kiss. You tilt your head to the side to get a better angle and slowly skim your hand down to hers, where the device is tightly clutched. Her other hand has come up to your jaw, which she's gently guiding as she steals another kiss from your lips.

Her distracted state made it easy to get what you were after, and soon -- much too soon for Jisoo's liking -- you pull away with a victorious smile. She doesn't know what to say; in all honesty, she's almost forgotten how to breathe with the way you kissed her senseless.

"I win." You grin, hopping off of her and shutting the TV off before crawling back into the bed. She stays in that same position for a couple minutes, laying on the floor as she tries to sort through what the hell just happened. She can't even be upset right now; she brings her fingertips to her lips, skimming them over the heart-shaped pillows as she smiles.

The Fallout

Things were a little tense when you shared the bed that night

Anytime you'd roll over and readjust your head on the pillow in your sleep, unknowingly positioning your lips dangerous close to hers, her heartbeat would pick up and she'd have to roll over again

You pretended to be asleep when she scooted back against you, pressing herself against your front in search of the heat that your body provided. You brought an arm around her, enclosing her in a soft embrace that had her blushing crimson

Subtle flirting at the competition the next day

Sticking up for each other when one of the other teams got a little rude

"Hey, don't talk about her like that!" Jisoo warns, glaring at the student from your rival school. His uniform is mussed and unkempt, leaving it as no surprise that he was the one to say such a thing.

"Why do you care?" He laughs back, spurred on as his friends snicker along.

The question catches her off guard; just days ago, she was the one bantering with you and testing your limits. Now though, when someone else is taking it too far, she can't help but feel angry. "Because she's my teammate. Now knock it off or I'll report you to your dean for unsportsmanlike behavior."

He scoffs, but eventually opts to grumble out another insult and turn away, nursing his bruised ego.

"Thanks, Chu." You quietly say, having witnessed the whole encounter from the row behind her. A small smile tugs at your lips at her actions, warming your heart.

"No problem, Y/N. But you'd better help me beat him; I'm not losing to that idiot." You laugh and agree, shaking her hand to seal your pact. She tries not to get too caught up on the smoothness of your skin or how it reminds her of last night, but her brain doesn't listen.

Needless to say, you beat them.

Your team stopped by a nice restaurant on the way back home for a celebratory dinner

Jisoo sat beside you

Cue the blushing and quiet flirting

It's a new side of her that you're not used to seeing. Now, instead of being all hardcore and witty, a simple look from you can make her blush

It doesn't always, though; sometimes she grows bold and lays a hand on your thigh for a moment, laughing at something you said

It's giving very much so gay panic™️, but you wouldn't trade it for the world

After the dinner, you go back to the bus and sit in your seats (which aren't together, surprisingly).

As you scroll through your phone, you get a text from Jisoo. Attached to the message is an invitation to one of her favorite mobile games.

"Hey, Y/N. Will you be my player 2? 🎮"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jennie

Jennie Kim: The girl who practically ran the school, always getting her way and never having to lift a finger. She was royalty: the queen bee sat atop her throne, giving orders to the masses that they followed blindly. The whole situation seemed straight out of a poorly-written teenage movie, and it always annoyed you.

You: The girl who stuck to herself, only having a close group of friends that she talked to. You weren't popular, per se, but you weren't cursed to exist at the bottom of the food chain, either. Many people knew you, but you only associated with a select few.

You avoid the "popular" crowd a majority of the time, opting to spend spare time in between classes in the library or outside, doing homework

Jennie is the type of person that has people lined up, waiting for her to ask them to do hers for her. She gets to skip class and do whatever she wants, and she usually takes advantage of that.

She's never been mean to you directly, but you've seen her and her posse pick on people in typical mean girl fashion

You've never noticed the way that she usually targets people who've said bad things about you. She sticks up for you without you even knowing.

So, as you would expect, when your best friend called you and begged you to accompany her to one of the biggest parties of the year (hosted by none other than Jennie's brother), you were definitely surprised. Neither of you are the type to go to anything like that, but you know that she secretly wants to peek into that world of luxury.

"Pleaaaaase, Y/N? I'll do your laundry for a month."

"Fine."

The Turning Point

Your stylish boots crunch lightly against the concrete as you stand outside of the frat house, grimacing when you notice a boy stumble to the side of the house and get sick.

"We might have to bump that offer up to two months," you say to your friend, leaning onto her car as she checks her makeup in the side mirror.

"If it keeps you here for an hour or so, then fine." She smiles, taking your hand and leading you towards the building. Upon opening the door you're immediately greeted by waves of the strong bass of whatever song is playing. Their rhythmic thumps reverberate around the house, and you choose to seek some semblance of peace and quiet by heading to the kitchen. Your friend comes with, and the two of you push your way to the drink bar for refreshments.

"Thanks again for coming along, Y/N/N. You're the best." She leans into you, saying the phrase loud enough for you to hear over the music.

"I know," you hold your head up higher, self-assured. "You'd better go find Benji before things get too wild," you tell her, taking note of how the crowd is quickly growing in size. Benji, her longtime crush, is the only reason you really agreed to tag along; she's been head over heels for him for as long as you've known her, and you see this as the perfect opportunity for her to finally tell him. She needed some backup, and you always come through for your friends.

"Alright, I'll come find you later," she says, nervously smiling as she kisses your cheek as a farewell. You shout encouragement to her retreating figure, grinning wildly when you see her throw her hand up in the air.

Considering you made a drink for her just then before sending her off, you take the time now to make one for yourself. Your hands skim through the air overtop of the different bottles, searching for your favorite flavors and types to mix. As you go to reach across the table for one of them, disaster strikes.

You gasp as cold liquid lands on your shoulder, following gravity's command and rushing down your back and chest. A flurry of apologies follows suit, and you feel a soft hand on the small of your back as you go to turn around.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Jennie says, covering her mouth in shock. For a moment you're worried that she was dared to do this -- that perhaps her friends sent her off to ruin your outfit and embarrass you. When you find sincere regret in her deep brown eyes, though, all of those worries melt away.

"It's alright," you assure her, shaking your arms to get rid of some of the sticky drink that's trailed its way down. You set your half-filled cup on the table, no longer interested in getting anymore now.

"At least let me wash the shirt for you. I have a coat you can wear while its getting clean."

You furrow your brows at the offer, not expecting that from her. Not only has she apologized, which is practically unheard of from the prima donna, but she's willing to do something for another person?

"Uh, okay." You do your best to mask the confusion in your tone, but it's still plain to see.

"Follow me," she politely instructs, leading you down the hall towards what you assume is the laundry room.

She flips the light on and shuts the door behind you, walking into the closet to search for the spare set of close she keeps here.

When she emerges again, fluffy coat in hand, she begins stumbling over the words she was about about to say. Her eyes land on you, taking in the expanse of exposed skin now that you've stripped off the shirt you were wearing. She can't help but admire the sight; she subconsciously bites her lip, only being brought back to reality when you wave your hand in front of her face.

"Hello? Earth to Jennie?"

"What?" She eventually asks, shaking her head to rid herself of the thoughts swarming in it. She's always had a sort of thing for you, but she never imagined you could look that good. It should be a crime.

"I asked if you have a bathroom around here, so I can, ya know... wash up a bit. Whatever you had to drink is pretty sticky." You chuckle, moving your arm to show her how far it's spread.

"This room over here," she says, approaching a door on the wall opposite you, "is actually a bathroom. Convenient, right?" She asks, flipping the light on for you.

"Absolutely," you perk up, glad to know that you won't have to strut down the hall in your sports bra to get to a bathroom.

She steps to the side and pushes the door open for you, nearly melting when you give her a little wave and shut it behind yourself. She's got it bad.

She takes your shirt and throws it in the washer before setting the knobs correctly, knowing the best combos by heart. She and her brother are close, so it's not uncommon for her to come by and help him with chores when he gets swamped.

A few minutes later you come out of the bathroom clean and dry, nervously fidgeting with your hands as she turns to look at you again. Having the Jennie Kim looking at you in such a way and having her so close is a bit overwhelming, and you're not exactly sure how to deal with it.

"Here," she says, reaching around you to slide her jacket onto your arms. Her face hovers dangerously close to yours as she does, making you hold your breath in anticipation. She pulls the jacket closed, adjusting it so that it lays right, and you look into her eyes.

"Thanks, Jen."

Her heart speeds up at the nickname, though she tries not to show it.

"No problem, sweet thing." She flirts, taking you aback.

Just as you go to say something more, the door blasts open and a couple of her friends pop in. "There you are Jennie! What are you-- oh," they say, watching as the two of you spring apart.

When they realize who you are, they laugh among themselves. "What're you doing in here with her?" They ask, looking you up and down before ultimately appearing unimpressed. Jennie glances at you again, and you can see her going through some sort of inner turmoil.

"Thank God you guys showed up; she won't quit talking. I was just about to leave." She laughs, regaining the bitchy aura that she's known for. You set your jaw and nod, remembering why you choose to stay away from people like them.

"Wow, Jennie. You really had me fooled," you bite back, a bit shocked, but not surprised. You keep your eyes on hers as you take her jacket off and let it drop to the floor in front of her, grabbing a spare towel from the hamper on your way out the door. Her friends scoff at you, wondering what such a nobody like you thinks they're doing treating Jennie like that. You brush past them and send her one last look, conveying all the emotions you feel with a mere glance.

She's disappointed in herself, and she hangs her head as the girls scoop the designer material up and hand it to her.

----

45 Minutes Later

Just 15 more minutes, Y/N; totally doable. You reason with yourself. Jennie left the laundry room soon after you, leaving it vacant for you to put your shirt in the dryer and retrieve it when it was done. Now, clad in the warm material, you sit outside by the fire. Stars are shining brightly in the night sky, illuminating it so beautifully that your mind is taken off of what happened. They twinkle for you, and the sight puts you at ease.

What has that pleasant feeling dissipating in a second, however, is the sound of Jennie's voice as she exits the patio door.

She's talking to her friends about some boy that's in love with her, as the whole school seems to be, and you roll your eyes. With the moment officially ruined, you decide to head back into the house and spend the rest of your sentence there.

Once you stand up from your seat and turn around to take your leave, her friends notice you. "Jesus, you're really obsessed, aren't you? Are you following her or something?" One of them, a snarky blonde from earlier, asks.

You laugh at that. "Hardly," you glance at Jennie, though she avoids eye contact. "I'm sure you'd like that, though. Give you something to talk about other than your split ends." She reels back at your boldness, prepared to start a fight.

"You bitc--"

"Stop," Jennie finally steps in, cutting the girl off. She moves between the two of you, putting a hand on your chest and looking into your eyes.

"Jennie, I don't know what her problem is," the blonde squeaks out, trying to defend her actions.

"The problem doesn't lie with her," she tells her, leaving her puzzled. Jennie continues, "I lied earlier; I'm the one who invited her to the laundry room because I spilled my drink on her." You narrow your eyes at her following her statement, wondering where she's going with this.

"We probably would've kissed, too, if you hadn't walked in."

Your heart speeds up a little at that, but you're still hurt by what she did earlier. Having her be one way with you in private and another in public is never a good sign.

"I'm done with you guys. You turn me into something I'm not," she looks between the small following that's accrued, letting them know how she's been feeling for the past bit. The majority of them are stuck up and entitled, and seeing the hurt in your eyes put things into perspective for her. She likes you, and she wants to be better because of that.

"I don't understand, Jennie," one of them asks, sounding like she's on the brink of tears. Are these people really that invested? You know the hierarchy of popularity is confusing, but they make it seem like she's breaking up with them.

"We're not friends anymore. Not until you get your heads out of your asses and start being nicer."

The crowd clearly doesn't know how to react at her sudden change in attitude, but they mutter out various responses before some of them break away.

You look down at her and glance to the house, wordlessly telling her to follow you so that you can have a moment alone to talk. You lead her over to the patio and stand against the wall.

"I'm sorry," she says, sounding relieved to finally get the words out. Her previous actions have been weighing heavily on her, and she's been doing some introspection. It's not entirely all of a sudden, though; she's been questioning why she still hangs out with them for a while now. This encounter just confirmed her desire to leave them.

"I shouldn't have lied like that. I know it hurt you." She looks away, feeling disappointed again.

"Yeah, it definitely wasn't fun to have my crush talk about me like that." You nod, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"Crush?" Her head raises up, doing a terrible job of concealing the hopefulness she feels blossoming.

"Crush." You lightly smile at the way she blushes at your simple confirmation. She's too adorable for her own good; it's really no wonder than she has everyone on their knees for her.

"Thank you for apologizing," you say after a moment, nudging her shoulder gently. "It's more than your posse usually gives, so I appreciate it. You'd better mean it, though." You cock your head at her expectantly, a hint of warning in your tone.

"You have my word," she smiles, determined to make sure the opportunity you're giving her doesn't go to waste.

The Fallout

In the following weeks, she cut ties with more and more toxic people, causing a bit more drama to stir up, but she didn't care. You were by her side through all of it, as were your friends, and she saw what true community looks like. She had so many people at her beck and call back then, but none of them cared as much as your close knit group. They were in it because of her status, not because of her.

Walking her to class

Both of you sticking up for each other if people try to start stuff

Helping her correct her bad habits if she starts to get judgemental with someone or slips back into her old ways

Being patient with her

Her spoiling you randomly to show how thankful she is for you

"Miss L/N, we have a Candy Gram for you. Sent by Jennie Kim." A staff member says upon entering the classroom, walking the package over to you. You grin widely as you open the note attached to it.

"Come see me after class, Y/N/N. I have something for you."

You were excited for the rest of class

You rode your bike back to her dorm, parking it outside before knocking on the door.

"Hey, Jendeukie. What do you have for--"

You're abruptly cut off by her lips pressing against yours as her hands pull you in, turning you to mush. You sink into her arms and kiss back, reveling in the feeling of finally having this moment with her. You've been waiting for it ever since the party.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she softly admits, resting her forehead against yours. "I hope I didn't overstep." You can hear the nervousness in her voice, and you smile at how cute she is.

"Quite the opposite, actually. Come here," you pull her in again, lifting her up into your arms as you walk into her dorm. She squeals at the sudden move, but the sound is quickly muffled as you lean in to kiss her again.

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poguesofthebau · 3 years

Text

paranoia

summary: meeting dylan einstein, a genius forensic scientist from indianapolis, musters up some unknown insecurities about your relationship with reid. however, morgan-- and reid, once he figures it out-- isn’t willing to let you think that way. warnings: mentions of bombings (as pertaining to the case)

word count: 3k pairing: spencer reid x female!bau!reader

a/n: set in season 10, episode 14, this one was requested by @koc-help! as per usual, it took me forever to write, so i hope you can forgive me for that and enjoy what i came up with!!

bombing cases were stressful. it always seemed harder for you; figuring out a motive, pushing down the overwhelming sympathy for the victims, convincing yourself that all of your team members were safe. because of your unshakable paranoia in the wake of those cases, you were already on edge by the time the team was boarding the jet to indianapolis. and, of course, spencer caught on to the way you were feeling almost immediately.

with the limited information the team had at that point, conversation about the case was reasonably brief. the file was reviewed and discussed, and hotch delegated a role for everyone to take when the jet landed. when the conversation came to a lull, you slid out of your seat, tossing the manilla folder onto the leather before moving to the back of the jet to make a cup of coffee. jj and derek’s voices were audible as they continued to spitball off of each other, masking the sound of spencer approaching where you stood. “hey,” he called to you as he neared. having been enveloped in the chatter your other friends were creating, you jumped at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. when you looked up at him, his eyebrows were raised in concern at your reaction, immediately making you recoil into yourself. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you breathed, pulling the coffee pot out of its place to pour the liquid into your empty cup. “i’m fine.”

“that’s not very convincing, you know.” you turned to face him then, sighing and internally shaking the dread away. “what is it?”

“i’m not a huge fan of bombings,” you said sarcastically. spencer scoffed a laugh at that, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as you continued with a bit more seriousness. “just a little worried. it’s nothing, spence.”

“i’m not used to seeing you worried in this way. are you sure you’re okay? i mean, do you want to talk about it?”

the soft-spoken concern in spencer’s tone along with the expression he was looking at you with warmed your heart. if there was one thing that could take your mind off of a murderous bomber, it was spencer. your eyes flickered over to the rest of the team, making sure no one was paying any attention to you and your boyfriend huddled up in the back of the jet, before you leaned up and pressed your mouth to spencer’s. the kiss was quick, but it was also just the reassurance that you both needed. “i promise, i’ll tell you if i need to talk. for now, i just want to get this son of a bitch and go back home.”

being present for the disarming of the second bomb only worsened your initial paranoia. the thought of an explosive device made you anxious enough; having to stand your ground and comfort an intended victim while a bomb was armed less than a foot from you was a whole new feeling. you trusted morgan to clip a wire without killing you, but the adrenaline in the heat of the moment was hard to shake. it had been a few hours since the scene had unfolded, but you still felt like your heart could possibly jump out of your chest at any moment the morning after the disarming. despite the underlying terror running through your veins, you were critically analyzing everything going on around you. your focus was completely dedicated to the case unfolding around you, because the sooner you cracked it, the sooner your thinly veiled fear would dissipate.

you were digging around in the bed of the pickup truck while einstein, the local forensic scientist, examined the bomb itself. out of your peripherals you saw reid and morgan approaching, but the bulk of your energy was going into analyzing the scene as best you could. your boyfriend’s eyes lingered on you for a few seconds as he neared, immediately gauging the nerves you were trying so hard to conceal. reid made a mental note to address that as soon as he could get you alone, but fought the urge to do so right then. spencer knew you well enough to know that, no matter how freaked out you currently were, your mind was concentrating on the scene before you, and anything else would simply be considered a distraction. he swallowed down the lump in his throat that formed at the thought of not being able to help you before tuning in to the comment einstein began to make. “he really went for a bigger boom this time.”

the short conversation that ensued between the two following that comment was something that shouldn’t have bothered you. you knew it meant nothing; reid wasn’t the only genius in the world who memorized excerpts from anarchy cookbooks or mathematical theories. just because some young, brilliant, beautiful girl knew the same book as spencer didn’t mean you had anything to worry about.

nonetheless, you became very worried about it.

you strolled around to the passenger side of the truck, sliding into the empty seat with a quizzical look on your face. “you know, it’s a wonder that he even realized he triggered the bomb.”

opening the driver’s side door as he spoke, reid slid into the truck next to you. “maybe he heard something when he stepped on the pedal.”

“and knew not to move? i mean, what’s this guy got, an ex-paramilitary background we don’t know about?”

the back and forth continued a few more times, and within a minute you and reid had developed the idea that allen archer, the bomb’s target, could potentially be your unsub. upon this conclusion, einstein spoke up again. “that’s what you guys do. you just talk a lot.” her voice was joking as the words left her lips, and a bright smile graced her face as she spoke. regardless of the playful tone you immediately identified, the words triggered something in you.

“well, there’s also a lot of kicking down doors involved,” morgan interjected from outside the passenger door, shaking you out of your internally-mortified state. you watched as einstein announced her departure then, mustering up a measly close-lipped smile in return to the courteous and friendly glance she offered you before leaving.

as she walked away, her words repeated in your mind. it was so simple for her to summarize; you just talk a lot. a woman so young and so intelligent had just condensed your entire career into a five-word sentence so simple that you couldn’t even disagree. was that truly all you were capable of? talking? bouncing ideas off of your coworkers’ ideas and hoping you’d end up catching the killer that way?

you spent the rest of the day arguing with yourself. in all honesty, your own inner monologue was starting to get on your nerves. despite your most sincere attempts to focus on the case in front of you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that einstein was right. and maybe she was-- maybe your job was nothing compared to hers, and maybe she was a better match for spencer than you could ever dream of being.

this new uncertainty of your career and relationship definitely didn’t help to settle your previously established fear of being blown up at any given moment.

given the circumstances, it was only a matter of time until someone on your team noticed how uneasy you were steadily growing. they knew you. you were y/n-- sometimes stubborn, oftentimes overprotective, and always capable. sure, you had off days at work, just like everyone else. you weren’t always the one to solve the case, but you were always present and attentive, engaged in the investigation with your mind and body. however, right now, your mind was in two places at once. for that reason, you weren’t surprised in the slightest when morgan approached you at the station.

as you walked toward the conference room to find hotch, you were stopped by the familiar voice calling out. “hey, hold on little lady.”

“what’s up, morgan?”

morgan shook his head at that, a knowing look crossing his features as he began to speak. “nuh-uh. what up with you, y/l/n?” you threw him a falsely quizzical look, trying (and failing) to get him off your back by playing dumb. sadly for you, morgan was too good of a profiler and friend to fall for it. “don’t play with me, girl. i know cases like this always get to you a little, but i also know how badass you are. normally you would’ve bounced back from our brush with death by now, so what’s the problem?”

you squinted at him as your face morphed into dismay. of course you couldn’t fool morgan. your mind flickered to penelope, suddenly relating to one of her more commonly made complaints: damn profilers. “my first problem is that you might know me a little too well.” derek scoffed at that, waiting for you to continue. “my second problem? well, my second problem might be that i’m not smart enough, or maybe that spencer is too good for me, or maybe that our job is too easy, or maybe--”

“woah, woah, woah. slow your roll, little missy. ‘spencer is too good for me?’ where’s that coming from?” you blinked slowly in response, not quite willing to give up any more information than you already had. “fine-- i’ll figure it out myself. let’s see: you’ve been acting weird since we got this case, but that’s not what this is about. i’ve seen you on bombing cases before, and this ain’t that. so... oh, i know. is this about a forensic scientist, maybe? maybe one who has the same name as a very smart, very famous--”

“okay, morgan. i get it. you’re a great profiler, and you know my thoughts better than i do. that doesn’t really change the way i’m feeling right now.” your tone was a little sharp, but the look in your eyes was a mixture of sadness and contempt. “and, in case you needed me to put it simply, i’m feeling like shit.”

a look of pity overtook morgan for a moment. he knew what you were going through. sure, he wasn’t dating a genius with an iq of 187, but he knew how it felt to doubt yourself, and especially how it felt to feel belittled for your work. “y/n,” he said, placing his hands on your shoulders and crouching a little to get on eye-level with you. “don’t do that to yourself, kid. don’t forget how hard what we do is, and how important it is. you save lives every day. no matter how you do it, or how much brainpower it takes, there are people all around this world who are alive because of your work. whether they admit it or not, everyone has respect for that. especially our resident pretty boy.”

“i know, morgan,” you sighed. his hands slid from your shoulders as you finally gave in, looking him straight in the eye as you spoke. “sometimes it just feels like he deserves better.”

“just because it feels that way doesn’t mean it’s true. and i can promise you, reid has never felt that way. not about you.” after giving a comforting pat on the arm to go along with his final words, morgan was walking away.

damn profilers, you thought again. why are we always right?

before you got the chance to speak with reid, the team was off again. instead of splitting up this time, you were simply spreading out; hotch and rossi were scouring the crowd of civilians and news crews at the staged ceremony for allen archer, and the rest of you were divided into two suvs with morgan and kate in one and you, jj, and spencer in the other. your talk with morgan had lifted your spirits a bit, but there was still a tightness in the air as you sat beside your seemingly clueless boyfriend.

unbeknownst to you, spencer wasn’t all that clueless. not only had he caught on to your behavior long before anyone else on the team, but he’d also spotted you and morgan’s secretive moment from across the police station. (and, yes, morgan may have whispered “check on your girl” to spencer when you weren’t paying attention. he just wanted to help.) so, while you thought he was in the dark about your current insecurities, reid was very much aware of what was going on in your head. as much as he hated it, though, he was hesitant to acknowledge it with jj in the backseat and the rest of the team on comms. so, like the considerate boyfriend he was, he waited.

it wasn’t until you got back to the police station that spencer got the chance to catch you alone. everyone else was busy preparing to leave for the jet, the bustle of having solved yet another case causing an uplifting distraction for the team. while your friends were distracted, spencer grabbed you by the hand and pulled you into a nearby empty conference room. the surprise on your face was evident when he looked at you, and he couldn’t help but smile. you laughed nervously at his expression, not completely sure what he had taken you aside for. “hi, spence. you okay?”

“i was actually going to ask you the same thing,” he admitted. “except, i already asked you that once during this case, and you weren’t very willing to share, so i was going to approach it in a more insistent way.” although you were amused by this mysterious behavior of his, you were still confused about what exactly spencer was implying that he knew. “did you really think i wouldn’t notice that you were upset?”

“no,” you said unconvincingly.

“y/n, why won’t you just talk to me?” the desperation in his voice almost shattered your heart. the whole time that you’d been in your own head, spencer had been in his. all because you were scared to talk to the one person you trusted more than anyone in the world.

“i’m sorry,” you breathed, taking a step toward him. spencer’s right hand slid around your waist once you got close enough, and your forehead dropped onto his chest as you sighed. when you looked back up to him, spencer was already anticipating eye contact. “i’m sorry i didn’t say anything. i just didn’t want to worry you, or to make you feel like you’d done anything wrong, because it’s not your fault, i just-- i don’t ever want to feel like i’m holding you back.”

“holding me back from what? you could never hold me back.”

“i could, though! you’re this amazingly brilliant genius, and there are so many people out there who are so much smarter than me, and i--”

“is that what this is about? you think you’re not smart?” you felt his hand tense from its place on your lower back, his disbelief clear in his voice.

“no, no-- i mean, i know i’m smart enough. but sometimes when we have cases like this we meet some really, really smart people, and i can’t help but wonder if you would be better off with someone on your intellectual level. someone like einstein.”

“y/n,” spencer seemed stunned at this revelation, and you realized then that morgan had been right. the idea of you not being enough had never crossed spencer’s mind. “you are the person that i’m better off with. you. i don’t-- i’ve never even thought of anyone else as a possibility since i met you. there isn’t anyone else. i mean, before i knew you, i wasn’t even sure that i believed in love at all. the only reason that i know it’s real now is because of you. i can’t think of any statistics of mathematical theories or scientific discoveries to explain or defend it, but i have always known that there isn’t anything for me aside from you. i mean that. no matter how smart anyone else is, or how cool anyone else is, or how compatible anyone else’s intellect is with mine. i love you, y/n.”

and, just like that, your fears were gone. your inner monologue went silent, and the serenity that spencer’s words brought you washed over your entire body. spencer’s arm tightened around your waist, pulling you closer into him. his free hand moved to the side of your face, brushing back your hair as he waited for you to reply. the anticipation on his face sent another rush of absolute love through you, and you quickly closed the gap between you. as your mouth met his, your hands found their way to the sides of his neck, slowly wrapping around until they were laced together behind his head. for what could’ve been an hour, you stood there, melting into spencer as his words of reassurance replaced the chants of uncertainty that had filled your head hours prior. you were forced to pull back from him eventually, but even then your hands remained around his neck and the distance between your faces was minimal as you reopened your eyes. “i love you.”

a knock on the door suddenly interrupted the moment, causing you to release each other as a third party entered the room: morgan. “hey, lovebirds,” he grinned. “nice to see that you’re back to normal. it’s time to head home.” you smiled knowingly at the man, lacing your fingers through reid’s as you followed morgan out of the room. grabbing your belongings on the way out, the three of you headed toward your designated suv, where jj was waiting patiently in the driver’s seat. “so, you finally confessed, huh?”

“of course i did,” you laughed. “no secrets in this relationship.”

“yeah, and i would’ve figured it out eventually anyway.” at spencer’s interjection, it was morgan’s turn to laugh.

“oh, yeah, 187?”

“he is a genius, you know,” you added smugly.

“well, apparently so am i, because i figured it out before he did. oh, and by the way, pretty girl, i told you.” and with that, morgan was jogging off (in a fit of giggles) to the suv, hopping in the passenger seat before you had a chance to jokingly scold him.

damn profilers.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #paranoia

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themonotonysyndrome · 3 years

Text

REDACTED verse - A dinner and a show

Prompt: any | any | competition

Word Count: 2,460

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Vincent Solaire/Lovely)

Rating: T

Triggers: Explicit implications

Summary: It's a tradition within the Solaire Clan that the King would visit his progenies from time to time. Tonight, Will is coming over to Vincent & Lovely's apartment for dinner. What's not a tradition is the karaoke competition that comes afterwards.

ConCrit: Y

I don’t know what happened. This oneshot just went out of my control but I had so much fun writing it today! I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Also, I just realised that all the characters in my oneshots have been eating lately. Oh my god, I got so hungry when I was writing them that I subconsciously includes food in some of the scenes 😭 Food is my love language so I guess it’s cute that the bois and their lovers would sit down and eat together.

That being said, I hope you guys will crave Korean food as much as I am in this oneshot! 😅

“Vincent? I need your help. Can you tell me what’s Will's favourite colours?”

“Lovely - ”

“Because I have some formal outfits in our closet, but they don’t mean shit if Will hate the colours.”

“Lovely, hang on - ”

“Is he allergic to perfumes? Colognes? I have some soft-scented bottles that should be Vampire-friendly! I think? Most of them are floral though… oh! Does he have a favourite flower? Do you think I should buy some before he comes over?”

“What? No, Lovely, I think you’re working yourself up - ”

“I know you bought some blood bags for dinner but do you think we should cook some food too? Does Will like to eat? Shit, I knew I should have bought some groceries yesterday after class!”

“You’re not listening to me at all, Lovely…”

“We have to clean up the whole place too. I don’t know how our furniture gets so dusty so quickly! I just wiped them down a few days ago!”

“...”

“Do you think I should do my hair too? It’s a bit of a mess lately; I could use a trim. Does Will - ”

Lovely's eyes widen as a deep kiss suddenly silences them. Their heart pounds when Vincent brings them close to his chest, trapping his lover in his arms. Lovely's eyes flutter close when he pulls away to press butterfly kisses on their neck. They couldn’t help it; they moan and tilt their head back when they feel fangs delicately drag down their tender skin.

“Vincent!” Lovely hisses, not sure for what, though, when Vincent's fangs pinprick where their pulse is.

“Oh? Are you finally with me again, Lovely?” Vincent breathes, loving how their heart begins to beat faster and faster in anticipation. His chest reverberates when he chuckles deeply. “There we go… I have your attention again, little one.”

They grumbled at the unfairness of it all. Just as Lovely knew all of Vincent’s weaknesses and tickle spots, he knew how weak their knees behaved when he pressed his fangs to any parts of his partner's body. Especially down south.

“I’m serious here, Vince.” Lovely whines. “There are so many things we have to do before Will comes over for dinner tonight. I want to make sure everything’s perfect.”

Vincent gives Lovely a deadpan look. They would’ve coo at how adorable he looks if it weren’t for his Vampiric speed and his habit of chucking them onto the bed whenever Lovely is being too stubborn to listen to reason. “Lovely? A question: are you dating my Sire or me?”

Lovely blinks; they didn’t expect that. “Uh, you, duh.”

“Then trust me, as your boyfriend,” Lovely has no idea why Vincent emphasised that last word, but they knew better than to interrupt him when he gets like this. “That everything’s going to be fine. Besides, I told you that while this might look like the whole ‘meeting the parent’ shtick, the relationship between a Sire and their Progeny is way more than that.” He patiently reminds them.

“Well yeah, but he means a lot to you.” Lovely points out. Now, why did Vincent look so surprised at that? “So that means he’s important to me too. That’s why this dinner has to be perfect.”

For a moment, Vincent said nothing. He just stares at them in wonderment.

Lovely let out a surprised squeak when Vincent suddenly crushed them in a hug. “How did I get so damn lucky with you, Lovely?” He murmurs, face buried on top of their head. “Sometimes I think that you’re… too amazing to be real.”

So soft and sweet; that’s Vincent. Lovely lets him cuddle them like his personal teddy bear until he's satisfied.

“Now, I need you to do something for me, Lovely. Do you think you can do it?”

Lovely raise an eyebrow. “Depends on what it is, Vince. I haven’t eaten anything yet, so I can only give you at least four hours in bed - ”

“N-Not that!” Vincent hurries to interject, a brilliant red blush runs across his cheeks despite him being a Vampire. He coughs once to get them on track, playfully glaring at Lovely for trying to distract him. “Geez, Lovely. It’s still way too early for… that. But we're definitely going to revisit that. Anyway, I need you to calm down for a second, OK? Will is a pretty chill guy and an open-minded Sire. He knows how much I love you, so you have nothing to worry about.” He gently assures them, rubbing calming motions up and down Lovely's back.

Lovely could feel their anxiety melts away. Just enough for them to finally breathe again ever since Vincent dropped the bomb that William Solaire will be coming over for dinner tonight.

Apparently, everyone in the Clan knows that the King would visit his Progenies at least once a month to check up on them. Just like how a parent would drop by their children's home for a visit, in Lovely's opinion.

“Ok. You win, baby.” Lovely sighs, loving how his rubbing eases the tense muscles. They arch their back like a pleased, spoiled cat when Vincent messages that spot below their shoulders. “Ooooh, yes, that’s the spot!”

Once Lovely's bones feel like they could melt at any time, they throw Vincent a grateful smile.

“Now, there’s the smile I’ve been missing the whole day!” Vincent teases. “C’mon Lovely, let’s plan for dinner before we take our nap. How do you feel about seafood?”

“Oh, I can go for some seafood. It’s been a while.”

“Spicy steamed crabs with scallops, battered pan-fry oysters and some chilled bowl of rice top with raw salmon and sea bass with slices of your favourite veggies? All Korean-style."

“Hell yes. I think we have all the ingredients for that. Wait. Err, can Will handle spicy food?”

"Uh... I have no idea. Maybe we should hold back on that spicy steamed crabs with scallops just in case."

Ever since the two started living together, Vincent really took a shine when it came to cooking and baking. The idea of providing for Lovely makes him ridiculously happy, and besides, him whipping up healthy and delicious food for them results in much richer and sweeter blood flowing within his lover for him to feed on so… win-win!

As the two of them traverse to the kitchen to start preparing the ingredients for dinner, Lovely slowly gain the confidence that their dinner tonight with Vincent's Sire will turn out alright.

And before both of them knew it, the sun had set.

After a fresh shower, the entire apartment is now spotless (to Lovely's standard), and dinner is served on the table, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it!" Lovely announce just as Vincent finish putting down the plates. They smoothen out the creases on their clothes, roll their shoulders before taking a deep, calming breath and answer the door. Like a soldier marching towards the battlefield.

Seeing his partner's dramatic reaction, Vincent just shakes his head.

As soon as Lovely opens the door, William Solaire greets them. "Good evening. I hope I'm not too early. The evening traffic has been quite a hassle lately. I figured that even if I'm a bit early, I could help you and Vincent in the kitchen." Will explains. In his arms is a bouquet of white pear blossoms, yellow gladioluses and red tulips. When Lovely stares at them curiously, Will smiles knowingly. "Vincent informed me that you don't drink, so I decided that flowers would be the appropriate gift as oppose to a bottle of champagne."

"They're so pretty." Lovely reply, breathless when they receive the bouquet. "Thank you so much, Will! I'll put them in a vase now. Oh, and please come in." They graciously step aside to let Vincent's Sire in.

While Lovely is busy rummaging for a vase in the storeroom, Will and Vincent make small talks over at the dining table. Vincent passes the ancient Vampire a tall glass of blood which Will accept with gratitude.

"Hey, Will. How's it going?"

"I'm fine, Vincent. Thank you for asking." Will reply after dabbing the bloodstain on the corner of his lips. "The Clan is the same as usual; Our Newborn members have finally settled in nicely, much to Sam's relief. I plan to visit them next week."

Vincent tops up Will's empty glass before replying. "That's great to hear." He's about to say something else before a loud bang against the wall in the storeroom stops him. "Uh, Lovely? Is everything OK in there?" He calls out.

"It's fine, it's fine!" Lovely shouts back. "I found the perfect vase for the flowers!"

Vincent groans in exasperation. When Will throws him a confused expression, Vincent is compelled to explain. "Look, Will, Lovely has been freaking out about tonight's dinner the whole day. They think that if it turns out anything but perfect, you're going to be disappointed in them. So just... just play along, alright?"

Will chuckles; his heart warms at the thought that Lovely holds him in such high regard. What an adorable human. "Is that so? Very well then, I will play the perfect guest towards such kind hosts."

And true to his words, when Lovely joins them at the table after putting the vase full of flowers on the coffee table in the living room, Will waste no time in kicking his charm to the max. In between their meal, Will makes sure to compliment Lovely's outfit (which earned him a shy yet pleased blush from Lovely and a jealous kick at his shin from Vincent). He then comments that the spicy steamed seafood dish is his favourite, and when desserts are introduced, Will gently helps Lovely open up by asking about their interests and hobbies.

Will is pleasantly surprised to find one of the many common grounds they share: their love for analysing music.

"I find RM to be one of the most brilliant lyricists in this generation." Will states once his bowl of red bean shaved ice is empty. "His songs are undoubtedly impactful for the youths of today. Not to mention that I'm quite fond of his wordplays."

"You're into K-pop!?" Lovely ask, utterly gobsmacked. Their eyes are wide in shock.

Vincent snorts. "Alexis is a BTS fan. Somehow, she managed to convert Will too."

When Lovely turn to face Will once more, their expression frozen in disbelieve, he adds, "We're planning to catch their concert once the situation permits it."

Will's pop culture admission finally broke the ice. Lovely laughs in delight before launching themselves into an animated conversation about modern music with Will.

However, it wasn't long before their topic suddenly went off the rail when Vincent claimed that he's a better shower singer than Lovely.

"Oh please, Vince, I thought you were dying in the bathroom," Lovely interjects with a roll of their eyes. Vincent splutters at his partner's cruel remark, but Lovely presses on without mercy, much to Will's amusement. He resolutely keeps his mouth shut despite his growing grin slowly making its way up to his face. "Face it, you're tone-deaf. Being a Vampire doesn't magically make you a good singer."

"Those are some fighting words, Lovely. Can you back them up?"

"We can settle this tonight if you want. You and me; we can duke it out in a singing swag off with Will as the judge." Lovey declares with a smirk before they head into the living room. All revved up as if their previous anxiety over dinner had never happened.

"Oh my..."

Vincent turns to Will with a grateful nod. "Thanks for helping them relax. And hey, you don't have to stay if you have some other plans tonight, Will."

Will stares back at his Progeny with a faux, scandalous look on his face, complete with a hand on his chest. "Why, Vincent, where would I be anywhere but here? It's not every day that I get to see you humbled by your lover. Don't think I forget that you were once known as the Playboy of the Solaire Clan."

Shock looks good on Vincent's face. It's cute that he actually forgot how he was before Lovely walks into his life. Oh, Will is going to milk this for all its worth.

"Alright! The system is set up!" Lovely announce from near the TV with a microphone in their hand. "Will, come on! You need to help me prove that Vincent sings like a dying cat. Here, here!"

"Oi, oi! We haven't even started yet!" Vincent rebuke and flits over to grab the spare microphone. "You know what, Lovely? I'm so confident that I'll win this that I'll let you go first."

Lovely grins viciously and accepts his offer. Once Will makes himself comfortable on the couch and signals for them to begin, Lovely open their mouth,

Will couldn't stop smiling as Lovely sings their heart out, and Vincent makes his grand entrance after they're done (singing one of Will's favourite songs in hopes to sway his Sire to his side). Vincent and Lovely are having the time of their life, teasing one another as they sing. Will commits this night into one of his most cherished memories.

*"Dari apa yang aku perhatikan

Manusia mahu senang tapi tak semua mahu berkorban

Dari apa yang mereka katakan

Ada yang jawab jujur tapi selebihnya kuat beralasan..."

However, as the night grows long, Will doesn't have the heart to tell them that they both are horrible singers.

Tonight, it's Sam's turn. Will deliver three knocks on his door before Sam swings it open. He looks exhausted, unamused and seconds away from running out of the house.

"Good evening, Sam."

"Good evening, William. Before you come in, can I ask why my Progenies insist on having a karaoke competition tonight? On the night where they knew you were coming?"

Will begins to smile widely. Both he and Sam could hear a heated argument between Frederick and Bright Eyes from the living room.

"No, you can't sing Bambi, Bright Eyes. I won't allow it! You're going to break the windows!"

"Oh my god, would you let me live, Freddy!?"

"We've been over this; you can't sing! Wait. What are you - put down that microphone - "

Music starts to play at maximum volume, and then,

Sam closed his eyes and sighed deeply and in resignation when Bright Eyes began to sing louder to drown out Frederick's shrieking.

**“Feel it like memalla itteon mam wiro

seumyeodeun danbi

dabi piryo eopji

Because you’re my favourite..."

"I don't know what had happened - and I honestly don't want to know - but I hope you're ready to deal with these two tonight."

"Why, Sam, where would I be anywhere but here?"

These are the English translations & link to the songs that Lovely and Bright Eyes were singing:

*“From what I can see

People want the good life, but are not willing to sacrifice

From what I hear

Some are honest but others are full of excuses...”

**“Feel it like timely rain that seeps into my dry heart

No other answer is needed

Because you’re my favorite...”

#redacted asmr #fanfic #they/them pronouns #gender neutral s/o #vincent solaire #lovely (listener)#william solaire #sam collins #frederick #bright eyes (listener)#pop culture references

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amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Summary: She may mean the world to Iwaizumi Hajime but at the end of the day, Oikawa Tooru is his star.

AO3 Link here

Sequel: Broken Compass

She used to think the universe intended for her to literally crash into one Iwaizumi Hajime.

One of her first assignments as a writer for one of the country’s top sports magazines was to cover the Japanese volleyball team’s season, and despite constant reminders from her editors not to screw this up because the men’s volleyball team is crazy popular these days, she manages to trip over her own feet and knock not just herself, but the newly minted team trainer to the ground.

When she lifts her head from the ground, the first thing that hits her mind is - goodness, he’s hot - he’s a veritable god among men, all sinewy muscles and sunkissed skin, and she can’t bring herself to speak as he carefully checks her once over for any signs of injury. ‘Are you alright?’ he asks her, and she nods dumbly as he pulls her to her feet and waves her off with a warm smile. The heat from his hands lingers on her skin long after she goes to bed that night.

They meet again at the next match. He remembers her name, she gives him a friendly wave. Then at the next match, she cheekily asks for his comments and he huffs a laugh as he directs her to the team’s PR manager. By the end of the season, she works up the courage to ask him out for coffee, and he says yes .

Iwaizumi Hajime is everything she dreamt of in a partner - kind, caring, steady, his feet firmly planted on the ground. He always wraps his arm around her to pull her close when they walk along the edge of the road, and indulges her pleas for an extra cuddle – ‘ the last one, I promise! ’ - every morning when he leaves for work. They exchange long text messages late into the night when either of them are on the road, and nag each other for working too hard. When they lay in bed at night, he whispers promises filled with love against her skin, tells her he can trace the constellations in her eyes.

It makes it so easy for her to close her eyes and believe that their love is written in the stars, so a year later when he asks her to marry him, she doesn’t hesitate to jump into his arms and say yes . The weight of the silver band he slips on her finger grounds her with his love, and her heart is full.

She can’t stop feeling like a thief who’s snatched the sun from the sky.

Oikawa Tooru is to be his best man of course.

She knows who he is, she’s covered the sport long enough to have heard about him - the prodigious setter from Miyagi who never made it once to Nationals despite his obvious talent (an exquisitely crafted katana is, after all, no match for the brute force of a cannon), who spit in the face of fate and chased his dreams to sunnier lands.

Iwaizumi has always been awfully fond of regaling her with stories of Oikawa, so much so that she thinks she can piece together their relationship - childhood friends turned longtime teammates, the long suffering ace and the monstrously brilliant setter. She watches his face soften uncharacteristically when he reads news about his old friend winning a match, and hardens when Oikawa whines loudly during their video calls about his bruises and sore knee. She can’t help but think Iwaizumi must have been like Jupiter, a god in his own right, drawn into orbit around Oikawa, a star burning over-bright.

She knows they remain best friends despite their separation by whole continents, keeping in contact via video calls and text messages, playing hopscotch with the time difference. They certainly look like it when they greet each other at the airport, Oikawa trilling a playful ‘ Iwa-channn’ and Iwaizumi grunting at him to ‘shut up, they’re in public, dumbass!’, exchanging back slaps so loud it makes her wince.

‘You must be the poor fiancee’, Oikawa gives her an exaggerated leer as he stands before her, hands on hips. ‘What did Iwa-chan drug you with to get you to marry him? Do you know he snores like a monster in his sleep? You know you can back out before the wedding right? Blink once if you’re ok, and twice if you’re not - and I’ll help you escape from him.’

Before she can respond to that frankly impertinent speech, Iwaizumi roars ‘Shut-up, Shittykawa’, tackling him into a headlock and wrestling him off into their car. She stifles a laugh as they spend the rest of the ride to Oikawa’s hotel room bickering back and forth.

‘How did you manage to pack so much luggage for a two week stay, you vain piece of crap!’

‘I care about my looks and grooming - unlike some of us who skulk around in clothes they’ve worn since high school!’

‘Vainpot.’

‘Beast.’

‘Piece of shit’

‘Meanie’

Iwaizumi alternates between grunting and growling at Oikawa’s nonsense but his eyes are shining (so bright that she can see stars) and Oikawa’s retorts are punctuated with smiles that are impossibly wide. She thinks to herself it’ll be good for Iwaizumi to have Oikawa around.

Oikawa starts to call her ‘ Chibi-chan ’ especially when Hajime is around to be annoyed by it – she admits she’s short, but not that short, it’s just that he spends most of his time surrounded by literal giants - and develops an irritating habit of ambushing her with quizzes about Hajime's likes and dislikes.

'Favourite food?'

'Agedashi tofu.'

'Favourite movie?'

'Godzilla.’

After a few rounds of these pop quizzes, she looks at him like he's sprouted a second head. ‘Seriously, Oikawa-san, we're getting married in less than two weeks. Do you seriously think I wouldn't know the most obvious things about my own fiancé?'

'Don't frown, Chibi-chan, you'll grow wrinkles and look old', he sing songs at her. 'I'm just making sure you're worthy of Iwa-chan's love!'

'Stop bullying my fiancée, Shittykawa, or I'll beat you up so bad you can't move'. Iwaizumi rubs lazy circles against her back, and she leans against him comfortably.

'Aww Iwa-chan, once a bone head, always a bone head’, Oikawa says, scrunching his face into a mock-sniff. ‘Say, Chibi-chan, do you know Iwa-chan would beat me up ‘til I let go all the cicadas we caught, but if they died, he would cry?'

‘Are you calling me a crybaby, Shittykawa’, Iwaizumi growls dangerously, simmering down only when she coos at him, ‘that’s so cute, you must have been such a sweet child’.

Then, sensing that her presence is probably stopping the boys from catching up fully, she shoos them out of the apartment on the premise that they should get some fresh air and cool off but really so they can get some much needed time together. ‘ And stop fighting’ , she calls after them, making good use of the quiet to busy herself with wedding preparations.

When Iwaizumi finally returns home late that night, he finds her asleep on the couch, and with a soft smile he curls up around her. ‘Hajime?’ she breathes, nuzzling her nose into his neck, and he has to bite back the urge to cover her face with kisses, tightening his hold on her instead.

‘I’m back’, he whispers, his breath warm against her neck. ‘Sorry I was out so long’.

‘It’s fine’, she mumbles sleepily. ‘Did you guys have fun?’

‘Yeah - we went for dinner and then Oikawa dragged me to at least five different bakeries to find the perfect milk bread before he was willing to go for drinks’, he complains. ‘And he made me promise to go for drinks with Issei and Hanamaki tomorrow afternoon before we meet with the wedding coordinator’.

‘Mm’, she hums absently. ‘Oikawa seemed a little on edge earlier. I’m glad he calmed down and had fun with you’.

Iwaizumi frowns into her hair, thinking back to Oikawa’s inexplicable needling of her earlier. ‘Sweetheart, if Oikawa is irritating you, I'll make him stop’.

‘It’s fine’, she says, with a little more force than she intended, waving away the concerned look he gives her. ‘He’s your best friend, Hajime. I think he's just feeling a little insecure. You should spend more time with him while you still can’.

He grins and kisses her warmly. ‘You’re too good to me. What did I do to deserve you?’

‘Because the universe willed that I love you’, she answers, as if it were the most obvious thing on earth.

But Oikawa manages to find a way to wreck her well made plans.

Iwaizumi finds her in the kitchen, back turned towards him, and the slam of the dishes on the counter makes him wince. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart’, he tells her, wincing when she shrugs off his hand.

'You skipped our appointment with our wedding coordinator', she hisses, whirling around to face him. ‘But that’s not the worst of it - do you know how scared I was when you didn’t pick up my calls? I thought you got hurt or heaven forbid - got run over by a car and died, Hajime!’

‘I’m sorry’, he repeats, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. 'I got engrossed in catching up with Hanamaki and Issei, and Oikawa stole my phone so I lost track of time. I kicked his ass for it, you could've heard him whining about it from outer space’. He slyly slides an arm around her waist, resisting her attempts to pull away as he buries his nose in her hair. ‘I'll make it up to you, I promise'.

'Make sure you do', she huffs, leaning into his warmth. ‘And what was Oikawa’s reason for stealing your phone?’

‘You know Shittykawa, he probably thought he was being cute. I’ll make him apologise,’ Hajime replies, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck.

She relaxes a fraction, breathing in his familiar scent - fresh linen and pine and home, but that doesn't ease the knot of something - she can't quite put her finger on what it is just yet - weighing down in her chest.

True to his word, Iwaizumi drags Oikawa by his ear to lunch with them the next day, not letting go until he apologises to her with an appropriately chastened expression on his face. ‘I’m sorry, Chibi-chan, I shan’t do it again’, he tells her contritely, but when Iwaizumi’s back is turned, he shoots her a puckish grin brimming with mischief that makes her toes curl.

She ignores him, and lets herself be drawn into the flow of their conversation - Oikawa complaining incessantly about Ushijima Wakatoshi and Kageyama Tobio whom she’s met many times in the past few months and he shoots her dirty looks when she archly tells him that she thinks they’re lovely men, Iwaizumi getting on Oikawa’s case again for not eating enough, for not sleeping enough, barely able to restrain himself from violence when Oikawa responds with a trilled ‘ Iwa-chan, you sound like my mother ’.

The conversation meanders off to their Seijoh teammates she’s not terribly familiar with, so she’s caught off guard when Oikawa abruptly turns to her with shit-eating grin and asks innocently ‘Say, Chibi-chan, what about Iwa-chan caught your eye?’

‘Have you looked at him?’ she says, playfully nudging a blushing Iwaizumi with her elbow. ‘He’s built like a god.’

Oikawa’s smile turns sickly sweet, showing far too much teeth. ‘In that case, I’m surprised you didn’t go for one of the volleyball players instead. Or was Iwa-chan your last attempt? You’re twenty-five this year, after all.’

A glance in Iwaizumi’s direction shows her exactly what she expects - first, his mouth drops open in a wide-eyed, open mouthed gape, then fury burns white hot across his face, and she has to grab his hand before he causes a scene by throwing himself bodily across the table to strangle the smirk off Oikawa’s face. ‘I can fight my own battles’, she mouths at him, willing him to stay in his seat, her hand still pressed firmly against his.

‘Well, you did ask me what first attracted me to Hajime, and I didn’t lie - I was really drawn by his looks’.

She inhales and lets herself be drawn back to the warmth of the memory of tumbling head first into Iwaizumi’s arms, and exhales to look squarely at Oikawa. ‘But then I fell for his kindness, his steadfastness, his patience - and when he told me he loved me, I felt as if the universe had handed me the sun, the moon and the stars’.

Her answer must have touched Oikawa’s shrivelled little heart, she thinks to herself, because something in his eyes shutters and a look of respect streaks across his face. ‘Well said, Chibi-chan, well said’, he says begrudgingly. ‘Iwa-chan is lucky to have you’.

The rest of lunch passes without incident, and when she and Iwaizumi are finally back home, he corners her as she’s about to go to bed and asks quietly - ‘Sweetheart, did you really mean all of that?’

‘Of course I do. I love you, Hajime. Do you need me to count the ways?’

‘Maybe’, he responds playfully, circling his arms around her as she pulls him to bed. She lies in his embrace, ear pressed to his chest and falls asleep to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the ebb and flow of his breath, the rise and fall of his chest.

When Iwaizumi calls out that he’ll be gone to the bar down the street for an hour or two to vet Oikawa’s best man speech, she certainly did not expect him to burst back into their flat with Oikawa held bridal style in his arms. It would have been a comical sight - Oikawa’s bulky frame dwarfing even Iwaizumi, legs looking ludicrously long dangling over Iwaizumi’s arms - but for the frantic expression of Iwaizumi’s face and the desperate way Oikawa clings to Iwaizumi’s neck.

‘Idiot bumped his knee while doing shots’, Iwaizumi explains to her distractedly, as he settles Oikawa onto their couch. ‘I don’t think it’s serious, but I’ll take him to the doctor in the morning to check him out just in case. Brought him to our place since it’s closer than his hotel room, and I can keep an eye on him overnight’.

She hands him an ice pack. ‘Why don’t you two take our bed, and I’ll take the couch? He’ll be more comfortable that way, and you can watch over him at night.’

‘Are you sure?’ Iwaizumi frowns, and she nods, pushing him towards his friend while she turns to fetch a set of spare pyjamas for their unexpected guest. Iwaizumi lifts Oikawa to their bed and together, they strip him of his clothes and, mindful of his knee, gingerly slide him into clean clothes.

‘Iwa-chan’, she hears the lanky setter whine as she makes to leave the room to bring an extra ice pack. Turning her head, she catches a glimpse of Hajime bending over Oikawa’s form. She’s not sure if it’s a trick of the light, but she swears she saw Iwaizumi brush his fingers against Oikawa’s forehead with a quiet tenderness he’s only ever shown to her, tucking his hair behind his ears. For some reason, it makes her heart clench.

She’s gathering the discarded clothes up from the floor whilst Iwaizumi’s in the shower, when Oikawa shoots his hand out to grab her wrist. ‘I’m sorry’, he tells her, a plaintive note in his voice. ‘I tore it up – I should never have tried to tell him.’

‘What?’ She gives him a bewildered stare. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Iwa-chan’, he slurs, and she can smell the alcohol on his breath as she moves closer to him to catch his words. ‘He got mad with me, madder than I’ve ever seen him before.’

‘You mean Hajime? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t stay mad with you, whatever it is you’ve done.’

He shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry’, he manages to say, and starts to cry. She flounders, unsure whether to comfort him herself or call for Hajime to deal with him (because she’s not stupid, it’s painfully obvious he resents her), but the look in his eyes is so heartbreakingly vulnerable that she can't bring herself to leave him alone even for a minute, so she sits next to him on the bed, rubbing a soothing hand against his back while he soaks her sleeve with hot tears. ‘You’re drunk and injured, Oikawa-san. You should rest’, she murmurs, easing him back against his pillow when his sobs cease and he seems to calm down.

As she bends down again to pick up his clothes, he gives a cry of alarm and tries to grab her wrist again, almost flipping himself off the bed. Hearing the commotion, Iwaizumi rushes into the room, hair still wet from his shower, barking loudly ‘you idiot’, forcing Oikawa to lie back down onto the bed. She backs out of the room, leaving Hajime to comfort his sobbing friend.

She doesn’t think too much about Oikawa’s strange words, mentally writing it off as another one of his odd little quirks. But as she’s folding up his pants, a stack of torn papers falls out of its pocket, and she thinks she recognises the words ‘Iwa-chan’ scribbled all over it. Though she knows it’s wrong to invade his privacy – especially when he’s in no position to defend it, she can’t help but be curious, reasoning to herself that it must be his best man’s speech, she should at least vet through it once before the wedding.

It isn’t hard to piece the scraps of paper together, the tears uneven, as if made in a fit of panic or rage. It is, as she thought, Oikawa’s best man speech, and it starts out as expected, with well wishes to Iwaizumi and her. But as she continues reading, running her finger over each word, etched so harshly into each page that the ink bleeds, it becomes evident that that isn’t the only thing Oikawa meant to say.

‘I know it’s too late, but I love you, Iwa-chan’, she reads with growing horror on the very last page, a suspicious water stain next to these words. Mind whirling, unable to process what she’s just read, she sits at the kitchen table reading and re-reading his words until her vision starts to blur.

‘There are times I wonder if I chose wrong, if I should have held fast to you, the other half of my soul rather than going off to fight in hopeless wars, because I should have known you won’t always be waiting for me to come home. But I will always love you - like the moon loves the sun, even if I can only watch you from afar, so full of light’.

She should be furious – she should head straight to Oikawa and scream and shout and stamp her foot at him, because how dare he say these things now when he’s had forever to say them to Iwaizumi before she even came into the picture – how dare he wait until she and Iwaizumi are less than ten days away from being wed. But she doesn’t, because deep inside her, she understands.

How can she begrudge his love when they love the same man?

‘Sweetheart’, she faintly hears Iwaizumi say, squinting in the light as he emerges from the dark bedroom. ‘Is everything alright?’ he asks, his voice heavy with concern when he catches sight of her tear stained face.

She wants to tell him that everything’s just fine – but his gaze shifts to the torn papers in her trembling hands and she knows immediately everything is not fine at all when he looks back at her with guilt and anguish branded on his face.

‘Did you know?’ she asks, hating the way her voice starts to break.

‘He told me just now’, he tells her heavily, dropping into the seat across her, his hands cradling his head.

‘Do you love him?’ she demands, ignoring the sob that’s threatening to tear itself out of her chest.

He looks up at her. There are tears in his eyes.

‘Yes’, he admits. ‘I don’t want to, but I do’.

His words knock the oxygen from her lungs, leaving her with a crater in her chest. He loves Oikawa Tooru, this beautiful, brilliant, broken boy, incandescent with the light of a thousand stars.

Where does that leave her?

(Stranded in the dust, abandoned in the dark)

She suddenly feels as if she’s trapped in her own skin, a vise that’s far, far too tight, burning with the need to turn herself inside out. ‘I need to go’, she manages to spit out, stumbling over her feet. He stands in alarm, reaching towards her but she slaps his hand away. ‘Don’t touch me’, she hisses, grabbing her wallet and phone through a haze of tears.

‘Where are you going to go?’ he demands, barring the door with his large frame. ‘It’s late, it’s not safe.’

‘Anywhere that’s not here’, she snarls, trying to shoulder her way through. ‘Let me go, Hajime – I can’t stay here, please, let me go!’ She slams her fists against his chest, collapsing to the floor at his feet when she realises it’s impossible to break through the immovable force that is Iwaizumi Hajime.

‘Let me go somewhere that isn’t here’, she begs him, hiccupping through her tears. ‘You’re hurting me more by making me stay here with him’.

He sinks to his knees to cup her face in his hands. ‘I’m sorry’, he sobs. ‘I couldn’t bear it if I lose you too’.

She doesn’t have the heart to tell him he already has ( because she can’t stay, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts), and when her stillness convinces him it’s safe to turn his back to her for a second, she slips through the door and disappears into the night. She hears him shout her name, hears the anguish in his voice, but she doesn’t stop running until she’s safely ensconced in a nearby hotel room.

Her phone keeps buzzing through the night. ‘Iwaizumi Hajime ’, it reads, ‘Iwaizumi Hajime’, flashes on her screen, again and again. She tries her best to ignore it, turning her phone on to silent mode, leaving it face down on the dresser but she can’t - her ears still echoing with the heart wrenching panic in his voice. So she rolls over to her phone and sends him a text – ‘ I’m fine, go to bed, you have a doctor’s appointment with Oikawa to worry about tomorrow morning’ – quickly switching it off before he can flood her inbox with desperate calls and texts.

She tries her best to fall asleep, but she ends up lying awake, counting the cracks in the ceiling. The air in the room is far, far too still, and she feels like she’s suffocating, buried alive from the sand and dirt and earth pouring into the cavity in her chest. Against her better judgment, she uncorks the cheap spirits in the hotel minibar and pours herself shots, one after another, until she drops off to sleep with a single thought swirling around her head.

The universe isn’t fair - because first it gave her Hajime, then it took him away.

It is noon when she wakes, sunlight streaming mercilessly into the room. She sits up with a groan, rubbing a hand across her face. For a second, she wonders where she is, the monochrome sheets so different from the cheerful patterns she uses in their room, before reality slams into her like a comet to her chest.

Right. That happened .

She can scream and cry and try to scratch the face of fate but it won’t change matters. Hiding away from the world isn’t going to make the cruel joke that is her love life go away, so she grits her teeth and steels herself, washing her face and paying the bill before heading home (though if she’s honest with herself, she’s not sure if it’ll be home for much longer).

She prays to god or whatever deity there is out there (not the universe, it has a funny way of throwing shit her way) that Iwaizumi wouldn’t be home, but whatever it is, it’s definitely not listening because Iwaizumi opens the front door while she’s still struggling with her keys. It takes just one look at him for the pain in her chest to make its presence felt again.

‘How’s Oikawa’s knee?’ she casually inquires, edging around him to slip into the flat. Oikawa doesn’t seem to be around, so she lets herself relax just an inch.

‘It’s fine’, he responds, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘Just needs some rest’.

‘That’s good’, she says absently, heading straight for the kitchen, ignoring him as he follows her steps. ‘Have you eaten?’ she asks, pulling leftover rice and dashi stock out of the fridge. He nods dumbly as she heats them both up to assemble two bowls of Ochazuke . Her heart may be broken, but her stomach certainly isn’t, and she’s not about to let herself wither away. He looks at her dumbly as she slides his bowl at him, and neither of them says a word until she leans back in her chair, satisfied with her meal.

‘Are we going to talk?’ he asks her confusedly.

‘About last night? What is there left to talk about?’ she replies, keeping her composure firm. ‘The wedding’s off obviously, so we need to inform all our vendors and guests as soon as possible. I think I should be the one to move out of the flat – ‘

He cuts her off frantically – ‘What? Why would we call off our wedding? I still love you, and you still love me, don’t you?’

She gapes at him incredulously. ‘Hajime, you told me last night that you love Oikawa. How is our marriage going to work if you love someone else?’

‘But I love you’, he says, his voice cracking. ‘Isn’t that enough?’

No it isn’t, and she’s shaking her head because it isn’t enough, it’s never going to be enough, because he may love her but he’s in love with him – has been since they were little boys with stars in their eyes. And his shoulders shake and it’s his turn to cry because he loves her, he really does, he knows greed is a sin but he wants both him and her, and he wishes that it could be enough.

‘I’ve seen the way you look at him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you’, she tells him, eyes dry, but there’s a tremble in her voice that she can’t hide - because she’s so stupid, she should have figured this out long before she dug out her heart and handed it to him - but then again maybe she didn’t because she was blinded by staring too long at the sun.

‘You will grow to resent me if I keep him from you and besides, how could I possibly compare?’

Because Oikawa Tooru, blessed with innate brilliance and cursed with a penchant for self-immolation, burns brighter than a thousand stars.

‘I’m sorry’, he tells her, rounding the table to drop to his knees before her, the look in his eyes so heartbreakingly sad that she has to choke back a sob. ‘You meant the world to me’, he whispers brokenly as he buries his face in her lap.

‘I know’, she answers him – and gods, her heart is screaming and it hurts - but she loves him so much she knows it’s only right to let him go. ‘But the world will move on, and you need to chase the stars while you still have them in your sight’.

At this, he lets out a quiet cry, and this time she gives in and joins him, her tears soaking his hair. He wraps his arms around her as she presses kisses into his skin and they stay that way for a while, their limbs entwined, because it finally dawns on both of them that this is it - it truly is the end of them.

The sun may set and the moon may rise, but the stars - they burn bright in the sky.

Her love for him should die (from earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust) – but it doesn’t.

She packs her life into cardboard boxes and shifts into her sister’s flat. Iwaizumi doesn’t allow her to pay for the cancellation of their wedding, takes all responsibility for informing their guests that the wedding’s off - he says it’s his fault after all, and she doesn’t resist, knowing it’s his way of trying to make amends.

His face crumples and he tries to refuse her when she returns his ring, but she insists - because it doesn’t feel right, she can’t seem to smile when the silver band catches the sun's light. He doesn’t tell her he keeps it in a box beside his bed, and opens it from time to time.

Oikawa manages to weasel her sister’s address out of Iwaizumi and appears on her doorstep the day before he’s due to return to Argentina with a bushel of white lilies in his arms.

‘Wait!’ he cries, catching the door with his foot as she tries to slam it into his face, cursing the reflexes of a professional athlete. ‘I won’t take too much of your time’, he promises, and she folds her arms, glaring at him expectantly.

‘I’m sorry. I’ve treated you and Hajime terribly, haven’t I’, he asks her shamefacedly.

‘You have’, she tells him coldly, because she desperately wants to blame him for everything bad that's come her way but when he hangs his head, she can’t help but soften her tone. ‘But I understand, Oikawa. How could I blame you when I love the same man?’

‘I don’t deserve your kindness’, he responds quietly, after a pause.

‘But you have it’, she tells him. ‘So live and be happy, for his and my sake’.

When he leaves, she closes the door and sinks to the floor, burying her nose in his offering of lilies. Its scent is cloying sweet, but she can only taste the bitterness of ash in her mouth.

A year later, and she’s back covering the Japanese men’s volleyball season when she runs into one Iwaizumi Hajime again.

He is the first to speak, asking her a genial ‘how are you’, to which she replies ‘fine’, though she really means - ‘I may be wounded, but I am still standing on my feet’. But Iwaizumi understands - he always does , and they stay silent for a while.

She picks up the courage to ask after Oikawa, and she knows he’s trying his best not to light up as he tells her that though he’s back in Argentina, they’re pursuing a long distance relationship. In turn, she tells him about her new boyfriend, ruefully mentioning that though she tried to stay clear of volleyball boys, Akaashi Keiji not only used to play volleyball in high school, but is the best friend (and former setter) of Bokuto Koutaro, national team player and self-proclaimed ace. He laughs at that - but she does not mention it is a relationship born out of the heartbreak reflected in both of their eyes.

‘Are you alright?’ he asks her before they part. It’s ironic because these are the first words he’s ever said to her, but she swallows the memory and this time she responds truthfully.

‘It’s a work in progress and I’m getting there, one day at a time’.

They exchange bittersweet smiles.

It’s enough for now.

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fanfic #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu fic rec #haikyu x reader #oikawa x iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa angst #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi scenarios

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renegadewangs · 3 years

Text

Van Zieks - the Examination, part 12

Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).

Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I’m outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I’ve missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly. -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I’m using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what’s said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn’t matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Let's bring this thing home! It's time for the conclusion of the essay series!

Conclusion With a stupidly long essay series behind us, it's time to look at what we've learned! Let's go back to Part 1 and review what we needed from Van Zieks's character development for a fully rounded redemption arc, shall we?

1) Present an antagonistic (possibly immoral) force who personifies Ryunosuke’s biggest personal obstacle/weakness, in this case racial prejudice. 2) Humanizing traits begin to show. OPTIONAL: A backstory to justify any immorality he has. 3) Over time, Barok has his realization and sees the error of his ways. 4) Barok atones for his immorality, not simply through apology but by taking decisive steps. 5) The cast around him acknowledges his efforts and forgives him.

And looking at the main game (plus additional dialogue), we have...

1) Antagonistic force:

Etc. etc. I have many of these. We can all agree that as an antagonistic force, he does his job quite well. CEO of Racism and White Privilege in the flesh. It works, since we as the audience get very frustrated and want to see him defeated.

2) Humanization:

Giving him an old friend to be a defendant was a brilliant move, really. Albert's reflection on the friendship and the person Van Zieks used to be really helped flesh him out and make him appear more like a human being with, y'know, emotions and weaknesses. The little snippets of dialogue in his office really help too. Presenting evidence can also lead to fun tidbits. All in all, considering how gruff and distant Van Zieks is, they really did their very best to humanize him. The writers were given very little to work with but they exploited every opportunity to come their way.

OPTIONAL backstory:

Again, I don't think we needed a tragic backstory to have a well-rounded, redeemable character. Still, it ties in very expertly to the game's plot and the motivations of quite a few other characters. The story of Klint van Zieks and his death isn't necessarily Barok van Zieks's backstory, it's the center of an intricate web which also holds Kazuma, Stronghart, Gregson, Jigoku, (S)Holmes, Mikotoba, Sithe, Drebber- I could go on. A LOT. So because of how very integrated it is into the main narrative's recurring themes and characters, I'll give it props for being relevant and well thought out. The bigger question is: Does it justify his immorality? Not entirely. I think the game could have gotten more out of this if they'd involved the other two exchange students in this tale just a bit more. They could have given more attention to how Jigoku's aggressive behavior in the trial impacted Van Zieks, and explained whether he might've suspected Mikotoba of sabotaging (S)Holmes's investigation. If the narrative had done that, all three Japanese people to come to London would have been ‘the bad guy’ in Van Zieks's eyes and it would have given more credence to his racial generalization. They could have also given more attention to how the people around him reacted to Genshin being the Professor, because I'm sure Stronghart and Gregson stoked the fire in terms of xenophobia. As it stands, there isn't really enough there to justify hatred of an entire race as opposed to just one person.

3) Realization/Redemption

We see him already start to realize the error of his ways around the end of 1-5, which is technically only about halfway into the full narrative. Unfortunately, thanks to 2-2 being played afterwards (but chronologically set before 1-5), any progress made in 1-5 can become invalidated in the player's eyes. Growth works best when it's done linear. Don't get me wrong, flashbacking to earlier times when a character is still more morally tainted can work well, but it needs to be executed properly. Barok's behavior in 2-2 is downright insulting towards the audience itself and therefore, it causes emotional friction when relaying the narrative endgoal of redemption. It also makes it extra jarring when we hit 2-3, and suddenly Van Zieks is meant to be relying on the protagonist's desire to expose the truth. How on earth can we as the audience trust that Van Zieks believes in Ryu's abilities when we just came fresh out of a case where this man actively sabotages Ryu's efforts?

Still, the line of redemption continues from 2-3 into 2-4 well enough. He admits that he was wrong- that his hatred was illogical and that he needs to change. This is the very definition of redemption. I need to stress once more this is not to be confused with atonement, which comes next.

4) Atonement

Here it is. It's not enough to simply acknowledge mistakes; one needs to work hard to fix them. Since Van Zieks is the defendant for two whole episodes, equaling roughly 20% of the full narrative and 67% of the time following his first true realization (chronologically), there isn't much that he can actively do to atone. Because remember, not only do these actions need to fit the situation he's currently in, they need to fit his personality. These two limitations ensure the atonement mostly takes the form of dialogue. Of apologies.

One might want to point out that he never apologizes specifically for his racism, but there's a reason for that. If you pay close attention, you'll notice that there isn't a single character who ever uses a word like “racism”, “xenophobia” or even “racial prejudice” in this game. It's for the same reason you'll never see an Ace Attorney character utter words like “alcoholism”, “drug abuse” or “depression”. These things may be implied very strongly, to the point where you'll know for certain a character is suffering from it, but it's never given these exact labels. It has to do with the tone of the game. In Great Ace Attorney's dialogue, Barok van Zieks is only ever described as holding “a deep hatred for Japanese”, which is then the only thing he could apologize for. And he does, so long as you aren't looking for a literal phrasing of “I apologize for my deep hatred of your people”.

Regardless, he can't take more active, decisive action until he's freed from prison and two scenes with Van Zieks later, the game has ended. He still manages to take two actions, though! The first is to publicize the truth of the Professor, taking the blame of the mass murders off Genshin's shoulders (and losing his own privilege in the process). The second is to take Kazuma under his wing as his disciple. I'm not certain there's anything else the narrative could have had him do. What is decisively missing, however, is the following:

5) Acknowledgment

The above aren't good examples of cast acknowledgment that Van Zieks is taking part in a redemption arc, rather, they're the best I could find. Characters are acknowledging that he's changing- that he's being kinder to them and they can get along with him now, but they're not acknowledging that he caused hurt in the first place. This, in my opinion, is the Great Ace Attorney's biggest narrative flaw. I've talked before about how Ryu's reaction to Van Zieks's racism is 'indirect communication', a typically Japanese manner of dealing with negativity. I've also talked about how Ryu is not in a position to speak up, as he's a literal minority who is there to represent his country in an official capacity and can’t afford to make enemies. However, characters like Susato and Kazuma are far more outspoken in their opinions, as is Soseki. The only one who ever calls Van Zieks out on his racism is the British judge, and even that is done very meekly. When an old crusty white guy is the one who condemns white privilege in a cast full of minorities, you've got a problem. The Japanese cast's refusal to acknowledge that Van Zieks's words were harmful is like Team Avatar telling Zuko that sure, he can join since he's a good guy now, but never once acknowledging that he burned down villages or betrayed everyone's trust in Ba Sing Se. There's something very vital missing, see? If indeed the cast had called Van Zieks out more actively on his harmful ways and how necessary it was for him to change, he in turn could have taken more atonement steps in response.

So, for the conclusion: Does Barok van Zieks tick all the necessary boxes for a complete redemption arc? Yes. In a very technical sense, all the requirements are there. But does that mean it's a successful arc? Not necessarily. The game has a few slip-ups, a few things not executed as well as they could have been. For that reason, whether the audience is satisfied with the arc is entirely up to them. Taking into consideration that they had to cram a whole lot of story into just two games- the second game in particular, I can acknowledge they did their very best with the limitations that were there.

And there we have it! That’s all I could think to say on the matter. I hope everyone who read this till the very end enjoyed it, maybe even learned a thing or two. I’m always open to questions, input and constructive criticism!

#dgs #dgs spoilers #tgaa #tgaa spoilers #barok van zieks #I'M FREE!#well until I tackle the DLC content #but until then...#FREEEE

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