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myimaginarywonderland · 5 months

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Coming on here because TikTok keeps bombarding me with videos about people being confused about the nine month cruise thing (literally a dream of mine) and clearing some things up as someone who has been on 3 cruises before (all between 7-15 days, mostly based around families.)

Right, first of all, there is a doctor on board. Most of the time depending on how many people are there for how long, you will have between like 5-10 people off medical staff. They describe certain meds if someone is feeling sick, advise people if it should be something serious etc. I have personally not been sick so much that I had to go to a doctor but my parents did once and I think it was mostly just telling symptoms and getting meds/a recipe like a normal visit. I am assuming if they are staying for longer, the med things might be stocked up once a month at various ports alongside with the food. Should there be a genuine emergency you will find that quiet a few cruises also have an emergency landing place for a small plane to take someone to the closest hospital as fast as you can. And lastly if someone should get pregnant early on (which literally can happen on any holiday trip, some people are just like that) they would obviously have to get off after a few weeks/months because there is a risk. No one is staying on board a good cruise line and delivering a baby, any good staff would make sure to get them to a safe hospital or off a port so they can get home okay when they are still in the non-risk term of a pregnancy.

Secondly, as mentioned before, they stop at ports like at least every 4th/5th day. They get off, explore cities or have planned trip while the crews restock on food etc. As far as I would assume with what I read they also take new passengers on board meaning not every passenger is staying for 9 months but some get on and off at certain stops.

To go along with the food point, I genuinely don't understand how anyone would assume you get sick of the food because it was literally one of the best things on board. You will have a variety of themed dishes, options for all sort of nutritional diets, restaurant that focuses on different meals etc. Not to mention you can always try local food and something there are even tours to explore local food productions (I remember we once went to a farm that produced goat milk products like goat cheese and it was delicious.) I don't know why people think it's just a giant mall with unhealthy food when there is so much with fruits, veggies, pasta etc. It isn't just ice cream, you get sick of eating that within the first 3 days. As for myself, I also had such a craving for fruit because the cooks produce amazing meals and desserts.

Another point that I have seen is alcoholism and trust me, anyone that wants to drink to the abnormal extent will already do that in their free time anyway. Most people who are normal drinks like other people of my family that have been on a different cruise line, had a drink maybe in the evening not all around the clock or every day and then again, some maybe only had a glass of wine with a nice dinner and not 30 cocktails that they drowned.

Secondly I hope most off you realise that 9-month-cruise doesn't mean 9 months on the cruise ship. You get off at at least 30+ ports, explore cities etc. While yes there are some days that will be on the cruise, most of the time (obviously depending on where the ship goes) will be spent exploring. And for the time on board they offer courses that you can spend time at or have sports events etc. You won't get bored easily and after a few days you would also start using the options by the ship because they are fun! Some of the things are genuinely nice surprisingly even for introverted people like myself.

When it comes to affairs etc. it's baffling to me because I can not imagine that being my first thought when thinking about such a cool event. Add to that, everyone who wants to hook up, will do that on any trip and everyone who wants to cheat, will cheat at any chance, just the way people are.

Some other info about cruises that applied on the ones I took:

If you do a planned trip from the cruise, the ship will always with for you no matter how late you are. If you go out on your own however and come back late, they might leave you at the port.

Sometimes the captain will take time out of their day to sit down and answer questions which is really cool. (Don't worry, there are co-coptains.)

There used to be an exercise mandatory that would prep you for an emergency event. Before deporting on the first port, there would be the alert for an emergency and you would be asked to put on your life jacket, go to your right rescue station and have to be accounted for while the crew would tell you if you did something wrong. There also used to be a video to show you how to put on life jackets and to tell you what to do in an emergency + there are big instructions on the inside of the cabin door.

Our ship also had a lecture who would offer presentations on the ports you went to or even on specific places that trips were planned to.

We also got offered a presentation for all the planned tours that are available for every port in case anyone hadn't booked something yet and wanted to do it last minute.

There are different types of cabines but most people will choose to one with a mirror or without one because you always have to ability to go to the outside/pool deck for sun and stuff. However if the sea is rough, all outside decks will be closed but you can still see from most upper decks that have shops or restaurants.

Every cruise line is different when it comes to what is included in the price but everyone has basic food and alcohol like wine/beer. Some restaurants used to be extra pay and on the ships I was on, so did most cocktails.

I think this is maybe only on German cruises but for us you got a board card which you not only needed to come back on the cruise but that would also be used as payment on the cruise itself. It was connected to the payment you selected for the cruise itself and you could always check how much there was on it at certain machines on the ship.

All the cruises I have been on have had at leady 800 passenger cabins so a minimum of 1600 people. In a big cruise like that you rarely hang out with people other than the ones you came on the trip with in the first place but sometimes at stuffed hours if you were only 2 people or so or still had seats available at your table some people would ask if they could sit with you if the restaurants are filled. And they would also be polite and nice, sometimes starting conversations. On my cruise there were specific hours every restaurant would be open, serving 3 meals a day and sometimes cake. But you can always get drinks like water, tea or coffee.

When it comes to anything law related there is always the important question of where because if it was on land, the rules of that country will apply and if it was on the sea, it depends on which territory you are in. There is also a ship jail most of the time until people can get detained at the next port.

If you have travel insurance (always do if you travel anywhere expensive or on a longer term), they will refund it when you are injured or cannot attend sometimes because of sickness etc. However boredom does not equal a refund and I assume neither might something like pregnancy which was a decision made by you. Also, travelling start being unsafe at around the 20th week mark and this ships policy requires you to leave either if you are in the 23rd or 24th week.

That's basically it but yeah, if you have any questions that I could answer, hit me with it

#i posted this on her because tiktok won't let me post my reply #9 month cruise

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hinatastinygiant · 2 years

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Chapter Seven

Mendax

Pairing: Haikyuu!! x Fem!Reader

previous | next | 2099

ONE WEEK LATER

Kuroo and Tsukishima have made a habit of going fishing every other day around noon. It was obviously Kuroo's idea, but Tsukishima agrees to tag along just to make sure Kuroo doesn't run off with the fishing pole and bait. Or at least that's what he tells you.

When they're gone, you get a bit of time alone with Bokuto. You usually spend this time changing his bandages, cleaning the wound, or something to that extent. Today, however, he had asked if the two of you could go for a walk instead. You won't go far from the bus, just around the plot of land you've sectioned off for yourself. You agree and take a walk around the outside of your little garden.

"I used to be a college student before the country shut down," he admits to you with a sigh, "but I ended up dropping out 'cause my grades were shit. I spent too much time training for the sports team I was on but eventually, I was forced to quit that, too. I was about to get a job instead when the outage happened. I just wanted to support my family in any way I could. Besides, I needed to do somethin' about my loans."

"That sounds rough, I sure know about those loans, too," you nod as you walk slowly beside him.

"Yeah, but I think maybe it's a good thing the outage happened. It gave me a chance to start over in a place where I don't need to worry about those things," he sighs.

You smile softly as you think about what he has said. A few patients have said that to you before as well. You suppose for some people they are better in a world where they don't have money collectors, debt, bills to pay, or any of the other worries common in the time before the outage and the rich people fled the country.

"What about you?" Bokuto asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"Well, like I told you before, I was a doctor before everything happened."

"But aren't you like super young?" he asks, trying not to be rude with his question.

You laugh at his attempt to be so polite while also asking your age. "I've always been a year younger than everyone in all my classes. It just happened that way, I'm not special or anything like that."

Bokuto smiles at you. "You're more special than you think. Don't know many people so willing to go out of their way for patients in a world like this one. I don't know what I'd do without you let alone all the other people you've helped before me. I'm sure they'd agree."

"Thanks for that," you smile. "It's nice to hear you feel that way."

"Any time you want to talk, I'll be here. I'm not planning on leaving anyway," he grins kindly.

"You could," you grin back devilishly, "but you wouldn't get very far."

"That almost makes you sound like you're keeping me here against my will. You're not planning on killing me, are you?" he hums curiously.

"Not yet but maybe if I get too attached to our talks then I won't want to let you go," you laugh.

KUROO'S P.O.V.

Tsukishima and I are coming back from the lake with a few fish in the freezer that Y/N lets us borrow for our trips. We hold onto opposite ends, sharing the weight, as we walk back to our base.

"It's nice that Y/N lets us borrow all her things," I say with a smile at the thought of her generosity, especially after I told her how I was in jail.

"She trusts us," Tsukishima nods.

I smirk when I see that look in his eyes like he knows more than Bokuto or I do. But he did meet her the same day as us so I don't know what his deal is. "Oh? You think she trusts you, Tsukishima?"

"I think Y/N trusts me enough to do simple tasks like go fishing in the lake but I don't think she'd trust me if I held a gun to her head," he explains.

"Ha! You really think you could do something like that?" I continue to push him.

"What are you implying?" he then questions me.

"Nothing," I shrug. "Just that you were supposed to leave the day we met, right? So what made you stick around?"

"Y/N has a good garden, location, and a bus. What more do I need to say?"

"If I didn't know better I'd think you're staying for her," I admit my thoughts to him.

Tsukishima says no remark, but when we come out of the forest we see Y/N and Bokuto near the garden laughing about something. Tsukishima pauses and puts down his half of the freezer. I stop beside him.

"You're ridiculous. A person would have to be insane to have feelings for someone in a situation like this," he scoffs.

"All the best people are crazy, though," I grin. "Does that answer the thought I can see you pondering?"

Tsukishima looks at me and shakes his head before picking up the container of fish and continuing to walk again. I go along with him, still holding the opposite side, and make our way towards the bus.

"You better make your move soon then."

Later that evening, we all enjoy a good dinner together outside in the new lawn chairs we bought from our trip to Walmart. I wanted to go to Dick's Sporting Goods but Y/N just rolled her eyes at me and so did Tsukishima. Neither of them took me seriously. But apparently it was 'too far away'.

"Well, I'm going to the lake to wash off," Y/N sighs as she stands up. She walks onto the bus and returns a few short minutes later with a towel and a change of clothes before walking away. The three of us watch as she walks off.

"So what were you two talking about before?" I ask Bokuto once Y/N disappears beneath the trees.

"Life," he shrugs, "before all of this."

"Hm," I nod. "And what's your opinion of her?"

"I couldn't imagine where I'd be without her," he admits.

"Dead. Run over. On the side of the road decaying," Tsukishima mutters. I nudge him and shake my head to show my disapproval, but luckily Bokuto doesn't seem to hear him. He's too lost in thought talking about her.

"She's a goddamn good doctor, too!" Bokuto remarks proudly. "If this was in the before I'd love to take her out on a nice date, let her meet my friends, all that stuff!"

I grin at his comment. Now we're finally getting somewhere interesting. "And then? Would you really do that with your doctor?"

Bokuto smiles back but for once he doesn't actually open his big mouth. Tsukishima, instead, clears his throat and pipes up before he gets any more details he doesn't want to hear.

"How much longer until you're feeling better to go without the crutches?" he asks Bokuto.

"Two more weeks," a blissful response is given.

Tsukishima sighs and shakes his head. I laugh at the interaction. I knew tagging along with these three would be a good time.

previous | next | 2099

Taglist: @isentsworld

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amoveablejake · 1 year

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A Look Ahead

Back to the.

It is only a week into 2023, okay eight days, but already it feels like we have been here a long time. Last Sunday I went to watch Tottenham Hotspur (sigh) lose to Aston Villa on New Year’s Day and quite honestly if you told me that was a month ago, I would believe you. I am not exactly sure why 2023 already feels like it has been here for some time but either way at least it feels established. Now, what exactly do I mean by established. Really, I’m not sure. I suppose I feel like this year is starting to form its identity already and that some of the days and weeks ahead are already starting to shape up. With that in mind, I thought that for this week’s piece we would take a look at the year ahead or rather then year ahead from my side of the keyboard. Now the only problem is that I have to work out exactly what 2023 looks like.

One of the thoughts that I had before this year began is that I am looking forward to seeing what it has in store. I like that certain things aren’t planned and for someone who does like to plan everything down to the last detail I am trying to feel the flow a little more. Obviously not to a crazy extent like giving up all control but more like not planning every day to within a minute of its life and seeing where things go and, as always, remaining present. There are some things however, that are booked in.I will be returning to Paris in March this time with my Mum as it was her Christmas present for the two of us to go back to the city with a truly special bakery in it for us. Or rather patisserie, I don’t want to be refused entry at the gate when they check my passport and my blog alongside it and catch that indiscretion. There is also a weekend away in the North that I am at present finalising as well as some other trips that I’m sure are floating around there that are yet to be formulated and thats okay because I’m excited to uncover them and to embark on these journeys that I am not even aware of yet. Whilst they are not booked in yet I am sure there will be more voyages to watch Tottenham play but one sporting event that I do know is booked in is watching the St Louis Cardinals play the Chicago Cubs when the two Major League Baseball teams come to this little island in the summer. And yes, I will be unbelievably excited when it actually sinks in that I’ll be watching a baseball game in my capital city on a summer’s day with two teams that are always very entertaining. So 2023 does have some things booked in that I’m looking forward to but there is still a lot of space to be filled and sometimes to be filled with the calm and gentle everyday and as I say, I am looking forward to uncovering all of it, one day at a time.

For a second there I was going to write that this year is going to be a momentous year as one of my closest friends is getting married and whilst it is absolutely a big moment I think I’m going to change the tone there. I was going to use it to signify that things are changing but really when I think about it, they aren’t at all. Yes, ofcourse, things do change as they do every year and from month to month but ultimately I’m not looking to change who I am. For 2023 and I hope in every year beyond, I’m going to keep being me. And whilst big life events in my life and others will happen, things will keep on as they always have. The rhythm of my life does at times change a little bit as it goes off on a separate riff but ultimately it comes back to where its going and everything feels, right. At times recently, I have felt slightly afraid of a new year, or rather not afraid but daunted by the prospect of it. The new year is a big signifier of time and it can be, for a moment, a bit much. But really, as with everything, I breathe, take a step back and feel calm again. There have been a lot of little references and metaphors thrown in today but I’ll try and stick with one to round us off for today. If each year is a song, then I’d like to approach them as improvisational jazz. Really, we don’t know how it starts or the journey its going to go on but with the right players I am confident in where its going to go.

Just gotta riff.

-Jake, a man becoming more and more obsessed with ‘Persona 5′, 08/01/2023

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oneoftheprettynerds · 3 years

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Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I’m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.

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ilovejevsjeans · 3 years

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How Olympian race engineer Tom Stallard helped coach Daniel Ricciardo to Monza victory

Daniel Ricciardo and the ever-improving McLaren team were seen as a match made in Heaven ahead of the start of the 2021 season. But while it all came good at the Italian Grand Prix, Ricciardo’s win at Monza was a product of hours and hours of unseen work, and some confidence-shaking moments along the way. F1 Staff Writer Greg Stuart sat down with Tom Stallard, the man who’s race engineered Ricciardo throughout 2021, to trace the arc of that breakthrough Monza win.

You could make a strong case that Lap 52 of the Monaco Grand Prix marked the nadir in Daniel Ricciardo’s first season with McLaren. As the Australian exited Sainte Devote and accelerated up the hill, he dutifully jinked left to allow team mate Lando Norris to lap him, Norris acknowledging the gesture with a wave from his cockpit. Norris would go on to finish third. Ricciardo, who’d brilliantly won in Monaco just three years earlier for Red Bull, finished out of the points in 12th.

That was May – and yet just four months later, Ricciardo had taken McLaren back to the winner’s circle for the first time since 2012, capping off a superb Italian Grand Prix weekend with an emotional victory at Monza, and leading Norris home in a McLaren one-two.

How did that happen? Ricciardo’s race engineer Tom Stallard has been the man F1 fans have heard soothing and chivvying Ricciardo over team radio this year, a year in which success has been harder to come by than many had anticipated – and he was naturally delighted when Ricciardo combined all his learnings to take the assured win in Monza, his first victory since that 2018 Monaco triumph.

“I was super proud,” Stallard tells me as we chat in the paddock in Sochi, “because we've worked really hard this year to be honest, and it was nice to see him executing everything that we'd talked about and worked on.

“Obviously he did a fantastic job, but he actually did the job that we'd been talking about and working on together. He's a top driver, obviously, joined our team as a top driver, but we’ve actually had to work at it quite hard and in Monza, he really executed that.”

Why didn’t Ricciardo and McLaren gel immediately? Ricciardo’s stellar second half of 2020 with Renault – during which he took two podiums and finished every race in the points – combined with McLaren’s sharp upward trajectory and the arrival of Mercedes power units at the team for 2021, meant that many earmarked the Ricciardo/McLaren combination as a potential surprise package this season.

But despite claiming points in his first four races for the team – including convincingly leading Norris home in Barcelona – right from the off, Stallard says, there were issues.

“I think the Bahrain race [where Ricciardo finished P7 to Norris’ P4 on his McLaren debut] he did quite well, but that was with a lot of time in the car in the [Bahrain] test – I mean, not a lot of time but a bit of time at the test, and a circuit that suits him well,” says Stallard.

“And then at Imola [where Ricciardo finished P6 as Norris claimed a podium in P3] we kind of exposed the problems, if you like, that he was having with the car, and we understood the struggle that we would have.”

As you might expect from an engineer of Stallard’s experience (he joined McLaren back in 2008) his first reaction to the situation wasn’t to panic, but to put in place processes to help bring Ricciardo on.

“We put in place a plan of what we needed to do differently and how we needed to react. And since then actually, we've been on an upward trajectory from that point, but you don't always necessarily see that from the outside.

“There have been a number of races where after the race, he's been frustrated and I've been reassuring him that actually we are seeing progress, and we don't have the good results yet but they're coming.”

So what was it about the MCL35M that wasn’t suiting Ricciardo and his driving style?

“Ultimately,” says Stallard, “all the drivers would choose the same thing, which is very good rear stability, and front end that increases as you add steer. That is totally universal, but the truth is that having a car that does that is the Holy Grail of Formula 1 design; every team up and down this paddock is trying to do that, and succeeding to a greater or lesser extent.

“We have a car that understeers and that's been something that he's had to adapt to and modify his natural approach to get the best out of.”

One thing Stallard is at pains to point out is that, for all of Ricciardo’s famously insouciant manner, beneath the gigawatt smile there lurks one of the world’s top racing drivers, with a work ethic to match.

“Obviously Daniel seems like the most laidback guy in the world,” says Stallard, “but behind the scenes, under the water, the duck feet are going quite quickly.

“Because we were in lockdown and he was in Los Angeles [over the winter break], we did most of his initial integration virtually, and during that phase, he learnt all the switches, what all the toys do, how to use the steering wheel.

"We spent a lot of time talking through the strategy with Daren [Stanley], our strategist. And actually all the communication side, all of the switches, all the controls, he had completely down by the time he went to winter testing.

“He's been in the factory loads, doing the simulator, partly working on his driving with that, but also giving feedback to the team about what he wants from the car,” adds Stallard.

“And at no point during the phase where he was getting up to speed with our package did he question that there was any kind of, the team backing the other driver, or the engineers didn't know what they were doing, or the car was set-up wrong. He just knuckled down, got on with the work, and I think that the whole team has a lot of respect for him for that.”

Ricciardo endured an up-and-down run of form leading up to the summer break, the lows including a tough Styrian Grand Prix where he finished 13th to Norris’ fifth and a Hungarian Grand Prix where first lap contact with Charles Leclerc hobbled his McLaren, leaving him 11th at the flag.

But Ricciardo appeared rejuvenated after the summer break, nailing his best qualifying of the year at that point with P4 on the grid in Belgium – while after a race to forget for the whole McLaren team in Zandvoort, Ricciardo then put together what would ultimately be his winning weekend in Monza, qualifying P5 on Friday, racing to P3 in Saturday’s F1 Sprint before claiming that sensational victory in the race.

Indeed, it was Ricciardo’s anger at qualifying P5 on Friday at Monza (and just 0.006s off his team mate) that seemed to indicate that a change had come in the Australian’s expectations of the level he should be performing at – with Stallard noting the key difference in Ricciardo since the summer…

“I think the ‘frustration at being P5’ thing was there all along,” says Stallard. “For me, the difference with the break is that it helped him not overthink it, so he's adapted better to the way you have to drive our car without it being completely conscious every corner, what you need to do.

Daniel's easy to work with, because if you give him a problem to solve, he goes away and works at it, so the work ethic's always been good, which makes life easy,” adds Stallard. “He doesn't defer responsibility away from himself; he takes a lot on the chin, which means some of what I've had to do is keeping him, let's say, up, because he's taken a lot of responsibility for things himself.

“But from my side, that means he's great to work with, and that collaboration is very strong. And when we got to Monza, we both had a lot of confidence in each other, so that made the result in Monza feel very natural.”

Going forward

Ricciardo leading McLaren to their first victory since Jenson Button’s 2012 Brazilian Grand Prix triumph, and their first one-two since the 2010 Canadian Grand Prix, was a fantastic moment for all at McLaren, and one that was warmly welcomed by most in the F1 paddock.

But Stallard was under no illusions during our chat in Sochi that Ricciardo is still on a journey to being fully comfortable in McLaren’s MCL35M car this season – a point Ricciardo would then back up himself a few days later when, despite finishing P4 in the Russian Grand Prix, he admitted that “there is still some stuff missing”.

“In Monza, the circuit and our technical package aligned well,” says Stallard, “and actually last year we came second there, so it's a circuit that suits our car and obviously Daniel did a very good job putting it all together, and the strategy was correct.

“He now understands how to drive the car; I think he's felt that himself rather than it just being explained to him, which means we have made another step. But it's a much more linear process than it appears from the outside.”

What Ricciardo does have in his corner, meanwhile – apart from the work ethic and talent that have made him an eight-time Grand Prix winner – is a race engineer in Stallard who has been an elite athlete himself, forming part of Great Britain’s silver medal-winning men’s eight rowing crew at the 2008 Beijing Olympics.

And Stallard believes that his own experience as an athlete can help get the best out of Ricciardo, who signed to McLaren on a three-year deal that will take him into Formula 1’s bold new era of regulations with the team.

“In this sport, 20 years ago, the race engineers were very much engineers,” says Stallard. “But now we are coaches, and so we're using the data to guide the drivers in how to get the best out of the car.

“So I see myself now as a coach and I have a lot of experience of being coached, whereas a lot of the other race engineers… don't necessarily have the same experience of being coached. And I think that does give me an insight in terms of the struggles that people have when being coached, especially in a sport where on the way up, drivers often aren't coached that much and it gives me a good ability to manage the pressure and stay calm in what would be a pressured situation as well.

“And I also think that on any journey, although I describe it as a linear process, there's still ups and downs, and there'll be events in the future that are more difficult and that we'll have to respond to and react to. It would be naive to think it's plain sailing from here – but I think that it's a good next step.”(X)

#daniel ricciardo #tom stallard #dan #so long but so good #articles

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boldlyvoid · 2 years

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pre-writing a fic is so hard for me... as soon as i finish a chapter i want to share it right away. i could go insane waiting to share this with you guys so here is an excerpt.

alone together chapter one

masterlist - coming December 14th

She taps him on the back when she joins him outside, “you’re covered in snow,” she laughs.

“Well, it is snowing,” he responds, instantly feeling embarrassed.

“Did you drive here?”

He shakes his head, “no, I was at work when she called me, my boss dropped me off, I was just going to get a taxi home.”

“I parked down the road, it was a nice walk up. I can bring you home?” She offers, reaching out for his hand and taking it.

“Thank you,” he holds her hand, walking with her down the snow-covered sidewalk.

The roads are empty, the sun has set, the only lights are the bright orange streetlights, with Christmas banners and wreaths. Lights are strung along all the buildings, the shops are all decorated and the light hum of Christmas music echoes through the streets.

“Do you like Christmas?” She asks.

“I’ve never been fond of it, no,” he shakes his head. “It’s hard to love Christmas when your mom doesn’t know what day of the year it is…”

“I can’t imagine,” she whispers. “I never really had a mom, I mean obviously if I was born I had one, but she died when I was 8. It’s just been me and my dad since then, I don’t remember her all that much.”

“You know my story,” he sighs, wishing it wasn’t his mother’s side of events that she heard first.

“No I don’t, I know Diana’s,” she rebuttals. “I may not catch serial killers for a living, but I know when someone is uncomfortable with the side of events being portrayed. I’m a history major.”

“There’s a lot she doesn’t know about, things that made what was already bad, a lot worse,” he keeps it short. Not knowing her enough to trauma dump on her. Not really wanting to, either.

“I’ve never met anyone without a traumatic childhood,” he presses her lips together in the same awkward smile he’s normally sporting. “I think we all go through horrible things to grow, as unfortunate as it is.

“I see a lot of horrible things every day, some of which makes me grateful for the extent of how awful my childhood was,” he opens up just enough. “I am lucky to still have a mother, at the end of the day I know a lot of kids didn’t get that.”

“It’s not healthy to compare—”

“I know,” he cuts her off. “But I can’t help it, I feel bad about feeling bad… like I’m supposed to be grateful but I’m nowhere near it sometimes.”

“That’s valid,” she nods along, “but you also never need to be, and that’s also okay. Being both grateful and upset at the treatment can happen, and it can be okay.”

“How long have you been in therapy?” He catches it.

“4 years,” she smiles again. “It’s working, isn’t it?”

He laughs, “I might need to go to your therapist.”

She squeezes his hand a bit tighter just before she drops it, “this is me,” she stops in front of a little silver car. “Where am I taking you?”

“Did you still want to get dinner first?” He brings it up in case she forgot.

“Absolutely,” she smiles again, something he’s never going to get tired of. “Get in.”

She unlocks the door, moves stuff off her passenger seat and watches him get in, all while he can’t stop smiling. “Sorry for the mess.”

“It’s okay,” he doesn’t mind in the slightest. “What did you want for dinner?”

“There’s a pub-style restaurant down the road that’s pretty good,” she offers with a shrug.

“Let’s go,” he agrees, putting on his seatbelt and letting the night take him where it may.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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jeonqqin · 4 years

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man up. [m] | pt. 6

h. jisung x reader | netflix rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNING: language, eventual smut, heated kissing, minor groping, a wee bit of angst

A/N: sorry this one was late... like all the others. but hey you can’t blame me for trying lmao

▸ request

CHAPTERS: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

—UNEDITED

Your head began to spin as your eyes dropped to the text sent to you, the number attached to a name that you least expected. You would never admit to how fast your heart pulsed in your chest as you skimmed the words over and over. Had Jisung said anything to her about what happened?

Was she upset with you for sending her precious boyfriend into a panic attack?

Maybe you were walking straight into a bear trap but you couldn’t bring yourself to decline or ignore her message. The guilt of hurting Jisung was too fresh, so you had a hard time doing anything against him—and in a way, ignoring Hyunae’s messages was just that. You just hoped it wasn’t an elaborate set up where she jumped you and scratched your throat out with her excessively polished fingernails. But even if she did, it was pretty fair to say that you deserved it.

So after your first class, you were able to hop on the bus for a quick trip to Haven, the thought of your next class lodged in the back of your mind. After the incident in Minho’s apartment, you hadn’t stepped a foot back inside. Granted it had only been twelve hours at the most, but it felt like days when it seemed like everyone was mad at you. Word of what happened traveled fast, and despite no one in your group of friends asking you about it specifically, you knew that they knew. You suspected that Changbin was the culprit, but you really couldn’t blame him. He didn’t exactly know the extent of the situation.

But it was hard when even Felix seemed hesitant to talk to you.

Chan was still there to text you every hour, even after you explained most of the situation to him. But he remained understanding and sweet.

As he was all the time.

When you walked into the diner, a burst of warmth enveloped you and your nose turned up at the scent of comfort food and coffee. It was nice, and eased some of the tension in your muscles.

Hyunae sat along the inside booths where most of the diners traffic was, close enough to the door that you could run if you needed to. She had her eyes cast down on her phone and your arrival hadn’t been noticed—you could’ve turned around and left then and there, ending all of your messy doubts and fears for the day. But you couldn’t. Your feet continued forward without your consent, dragging you those last final inches to her table.

With the new presence, she looked up.

Hyunae’s eyes widened for a second, darting over your form as if to double check that you were really there.

“I kind of didn’t think you were going to come.” She exhaled a small laugh, motioning towards the other side of the table where a still hot cup of coffee sat.

You took the cup in your cold hands, “Thanks…”

You didn’t know what to say—the ball was in her park and she was in control of where things headed.

She sighed, leaning back against the booth, her pretty skin flushed with the nip of the air. “I’ll just cut to the chase… I wanted to apologize for what I did—for everything that I did. I’ve been a bitch for a while, and I only realized it now.”

With her avoiding eye contact, you could openly gape at her confession, because—what?

The Hyunae was apologizing to you?

“I don’t—I don’t really understand why you’re suddenly apologizing.” You said, voice hoarse.

Hyunae tugged her sweater closer to her form, arms curling around her waist as someone else walked through the door, sending a blast of cold air through the diner.

“You know, for being a complete bitch to you while Ji and I were dating. It was all a jealousy thing to be completely honest. I didn’t actually—”

You blinked, waving your hand out to stop her rambling. You weren’t sure that you could process the first half of her words, let alone the endless ramble that she was capable of spewing.

“Are…” you swallowed. “Are you guys not together?”

She frowned, brows furrowed.

“Jisung broke up with me, Y/n. Did he not tell you?”

The scratch of a broken record echoed through your head as you nearly dropped the ceramic cup of coffee all over yourself.

“What?”

She nodded slowly, “I thought you would be the first person he told, considering…”

“Considering what?”

Her briefness and dodging was only making you frustrated, your hand waving in front of her face to finally gain her eyes. You had no idea that Jisung broke up with her, and you had no idea why. Some part of you hoped that the reason had something to do with you, but you just pushed that load of feelings away. It wasn’t fair to think of such things while the girl who had recently been broken up with sat directly in front of you.

You really were a god awful person.

She laughed a little, her eyes taking in your complete disbelief.

“Well I’ll be damned. You two really are perfect for each other, huh?”

Before you could ask exactly what that was supposed to mean, you watched as her cheeks flushed a bright red—this time not at the fault of the air. Again she laughed, all humor aside, and her hands lifted to her face as tears leaked from her eyes.

“God,” she sniffed, frantically moving to wipe her face with her sleeve. “You both really suck.”

You leaned forward awkwardly, passing her a napkin from the holder with a small tilt of your head. “I’ve come to realize that recently.”

She gave you a look that read, “don’t agree with me” and it managed to pull a laugh from your own throat. Hyunae might’ve been a little bit of a bitch, but it wasn’t without reason. She was insecure and jealous and those two things are away at someone like a virus. It was almost impossible to not feel such things at your age.

You always forgot that you were barely out of high school, the years of petty emotions and fake relationships hadn’t quite yet been erased from your minds. You were all in the same boat.

Just trying to learn along the way.

“You know what’s funny…” Hyunae smiled, her eyes wet. “I always kind of routed for you two. I didn’t really know it, but it was always in the back of my head.”

You felt your lip wobble, but you bit it down, clenching your jaw. There was no way in hell that you were going to cry. You weren’t going to do that—you had no reason to. Hyunae was the one who just lost her boyfriend, and she was the only one who was supposed to be sad.

“Every time you and him were together it just looked so right. I don’t know…” She swiped her hair over her shoulder with a sigh. “I honestly couldn’t believe it when he asked me to be his girlfriend, I thought you two had been a thing for a while—” right, you nearly forgot about the time when Hyunae was simply a friend. “—but then he came bounding up with a goofy smile on his face and that was it. It was over.”

Hyunae and Jisung had some math class together back in high school, he didn’t tell you much about her, but you knew enough to think she was a decent person. Back in those days, Hyunae was much different; sporting a thick pair of glasses and dark hair. But still just as gorgeous, as everyone with two eyes could see.

She followed Jisung around like a lost puppy, and even had to be shooed away by Minho a few times. You were just glad that she listened, since Minho’s temper had been much worse then. You didn’t remember the details but you did remember the day that Jisung jumped back to your house with a big smile and flushed cheeks. It was a time when you were still an angsty teenager and listened to terrible love songs when you were in emotional distress. So that news was a real punch in the face.

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what else to say, she wasn’t exactly your friend, so you didn’t know how to take in and process the information that she just threw at you.

Hyunae shook her head.

“Don’t be sorry. I had a feeling before that it was going to happen sooner or later. Who knew it was going to be so much later?”

You sent her a small smile. She wasn’t half bad when she wasn’t completely ignoring your existence and sending murderous glances your way.

The waiter rounded up to your table—unfortunately, not Jeongin—and proceeded to ask you what you wanted to order. After Hyunae promised to pay for your meal as well, the two of you talked for what seemed to be hours. You didn’t talk about anything at all—going on about classes and professors that you couldn’t stand. Your mind was clear for the first time in weeks and it was beyond refreshing to talk to her about things that only another girl would understand. Being around boys every day of your life had taken a toll on you and you hadn’t realized it until you were laughing as Hyunae ranted about how obviously sexist your communications professor was.

You could be yourself around the boys, of course. But with her, you could be someone you hadn’t been in a long time.

With a fry between her fingers, she hummed, leaning her chin on her hand.

It was only a matter of time before she reverted to what she came to talk to you about, and you tried your hardest to redirect the conversation each time it looked like it was going to be lead down that spiral of absolute hell—

“I think you guys would be cute together.”

You deadpanned, flicking your empty straw wrapper in her direction.

“Are we really talking about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named right now?” You quirked a brow, not at all happy with the way she snickered at your question.

“If it makes you feel better, Y/n… I think I’ve had feelings for Hyunjin for a long time as well.”

“Oh yeah, my guilt is cured.”

She nearly snorted her water, sputtering a little bit around her mouthful. You took a bit of pride in that.

“I actually missed your sarcasm, believe it or not.”

Sighing, you threw all of your remaining trash onto one plate, your belly finally full and happy. “Wow, you actually remember when we didn’t hate each other?”

“You really hated me?”

“A little bit. Your whole lovey-dovey act was a bit sickening.” You shrugged.

“Because you’re in love with Ji?”

You froze immediately.

Hyunae couldn’t just drop it? Her constant mention of Jisung was really putting a damper on your mood, and the itch of fight or flight was really beginning to kick in once again.

And to think things were going so well.

“No,” you said, shaking your head quickly. “No no, I have a boyfriend. Sort of... I’m not in love with anyone—”

“Y/n, look at me. Please,” she reached over the table to tap your chin with her pretty manicured finger, her face pulling into a soft smile. “Darling, it’s been almost two years since we graduated high school, and nothing has changed between the two of you since then. Even while you were dating other people. He still looks at you like you hung the damn stars and you still blush whenever he calls you those stupid little pet names he has for you. You’re both whipped.”

Your face softened under her stare. Her words hit a cord inside of your chest, but it was just something that made your head hurt when you thought about it. You didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it.

“Jisung and I have only ever been friends. Yes, we’ve been good friends for a long time, but he has never told me anything about liking me. If he can’t tell me something as simple as this then I don’t think I can—”

Suddenly her eyes were hard set, piecing fiercely into yours. It stopped you in your tracks immediately.

“Don’t make me get any more upset with you, okay?”

Hyunae was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

“Listen,” She sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. “Jisung is the best guy I’ve ever dated and that probably won’t ever change. I want him to be happy, and I want you to be happy too. So please just think about things. I’m here telling you that this boy is head over heels in love with you—that he has been for years. His fault here is the fact that he’s so oblivious to his own feelings that he can’t see yours. He just—” her hands flailed in front of her, searching for her next words. “—doesn’t know how.”

You sighed. “I always liked Jisung when I was a kid. Hell, even earlier this year I could turn to you and say—yes, I am in love with Han Jisung.”

Hyunae blinked.

“But who the hell am I to say that I’m in love with someone? I’m not—I’m definitely not.” You sighed, mind wandering back to when things barely crossed your mind for longer than a minute. Things had been tossed around so lightly. “It was frustrating because it was so easy to like him when I was young. There wasn’t this huge word hanging over my head like there is now.”

Hyunae pushes her empty plate to join yours, speaking without a care. “You know that you don’t have to love him, right? You could simply like him.”

You felt the weight behind what she was saying in your chest, you didn’t have to label what you felt for him if you still weren’t sure. The only problem with that was that you knew what you felt for Jisung, and it was stupid. Because how could you look at someone and know how you felt when you hadn’t even seen every side of them?

You couldn’t remember when he had last been serious with you. Never once had he looked at you with the eyes of an adult and told you about his inner thoughts. That wasn’t who Jisung was, he avoided those thoughts.

He was only ever happy around you, and whether that was a good or a bad thing, you had no idea.

“Was Jisung ever serious with you?”

Hyunae was momentarily stunned by your out of place question but she recovered with a small hum. “Well, a little bit. Whenever he was upset or tired he’d get a little snippy, but serious? I’m not really sure.”

That was just how Jisung was.

“Huh…”

“Oh,” she chirped suddenly, her lead raising as if she remembered something. “There was a moment when he was always serious.”

Your head quirked to the side in question, eyes wide with curiosity. Despite knowing him for years, there was still plenty of unknowns to Han Jisung, and you were curious to know more.

“What is it?”

Hyunae’s mouth opened for a moment, then closed. Many things flashed over her face at once, but it was safe to assume that she was rethinking her words. Your chest fell.

Her eyes darted away from yours, guilt flashing over her features. “I don’t think I can tell you that.”

“Not fair,” frowning, you pouted. “That’s the worst cliffhanger ever.”

She tisked, small smile pulling to her lips. “Well,” she shrugged. “You could always move forward to find out.”

She was right, you could.

There were many things you had to move forward with, many people you had to have a conversation with; Jisung definitely being one of them. With a mental list of all the people that you had questions and answers for, everything only just began to clear themselves up. It was small, but it was something. Your head was always busy anyway, having things clearing out was like a breath of fresh air that you could barely reach.

But it was still something.

“You’re right. I think I just have to start with someone else.”

Hyunae smiled, “Get on with it then. Hurry your ass out of here.”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t expecting this,”

Maybe you shouldn’t have listened to Hyunae.

Your heart was pounding radically in your chest as you sat straight as a board on the spinning office chair of the notorious recording room. You hadn’t seen it since that day it all began—honestly it had seemed so long ago. The room was cleaned up and organized, all the wires neatly tucked into the back instead of sprawled all over the floor, and you found yourself focusing more on that than the person in front of you.

You almost had to force yourself to your chair, everything feeling way too heavy for your liking.

“What do you mean?”

Chan ran a hand through his messy curls. It was only a few days ago that you had wanted to run your own fingers through his dark hair.

“You and Jisung aren’t very subtle, but uh, I was just hoping you could like me—” he paused for a moment, filing through his mind for the right words. “—as well, I guess.”

“Oh…”

“Hey, it’s fine. Jisung’s a good guy, you guys will be good together.”

Had you stepped into a parallel universe where every ex was supportive instead of filled with rage?

“But—well, I don’t even know if we are going to end up together or anything like that. My head has just been all over the place lately and I definitely never intended to drag you into this mess. I feel awful, god I’m a terrible person, aren’t I—?”

“Y/n.” Chan said, voice firm.

Your cheeks heated at the realization of your otherwise embarrassing ramble.

“Sorry…” You squeaked.

Chan sighed, leaning more weight against his desk. “Don’t be sorry. I just don’t want you freaking out here. You need to know that I’m an adult too, none of this is all your fault.”

You froze for a moment—one stupid moment just looking into Chan’s pretty brown eyes and realizing how weak they made you feel.

Chan’s mouth curled into a sympathetic smile as a tear rolled down the apple of your cheek. His hand reached forward to swipe the intact droplet with his pointer finger, and a small giggle rippled through his chest.

“God—Don’t cry, stupid,” he suddenly brushed his hand over your face, an attempt to raise your spirits to the very end. “You’re making me feel bad.”

“I hate you…” You sniffed, swatting his hand away with a quiet sob.

As his finger ran over your wet cheek to collect the little drops that leaked down, you weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry so you did both, once again crumbling under his touch.

“Hey,” he smiled. “You can’t hate me. I should be the one hating you.”

Your lip jutted out into a pout, one that he wanted so badly to kiss from your lips.

“Then we can hate each other.”

Chan hummed, watching as your jaw clenched in an attempt to keep your emotions from falling down your cheeks. You didn’t want him to see just how conflicted you were, he knew that much.

“Okay. We can do that.”

And he leaned down to place a soft kiss to the top of your head, careful of the affection he gave you.

But it only made your stupid heart hiccup in your chest, opposed to the way it would’ve raced had it only been days prior.

With Jisung it was warmth that spread over your body, but with Chan it was like floating in a pool of water with all your clothes on; encasing and safe and just a little sticky.

You were sure if you wanted to chase after the brief relief that Chan brought to you, it was difficult to tell with the way you were trying to find your answers. Was one more chance unfair to Chan? Even after explaining your inner (and slightly unknown) thoughts and feelings to him about Jisung, could you still salvage anything if you tried one more time?

“Can I… kiss you please?” You asked, neither looking in his eyes or at his plump lips. You really liked his lips.

Chan smiled, eyes darting down to your little pout. He liked your lips too.

“You want to?”

You hummed, a small nod to tell him that you were too embarrassed to confirm his words with those of your own. But Chan was understanding and patient. He didn’t push you to do anything as Jisung did—Chan was so perfect, why the hell did you think about Han Jisung?

What was wrong with you?

You didn’t want to answer that question. You wanted it all to go away—the fear, the confusion, everything. And the way Chan was looking at you made you feel it all simmer down to nothing. His eyes were so soft.

You were backpedaling, you knew that. But it was hard not to when Chan felt so safe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” His lips quirked up.

You felt bad for not liking Chan the way you liked Jisung. He was better to love and he showed you everything you had missed before. He held you when you were sad, cooed into your ear that everything was going to be alright when it was him who was taking the loss. Why did he do that?

Leaning forward, you all but collapsed into his embrace, finally feeling his soft lips again.

One thing you loved about Chan was his arms. You loved how they felt around you, and how strong they were. A lot of people liked his arms for those reasons too, you supposed. He may have been your first, but you certainly weren’t his.

How long were you going to go back and forth?

Reassurance was what you had with Chan, but with Jisung there was time. You took your time with him unknowingly, watching him with your brother as they played video games in Minho’s room. You were yelled at, pushed, and locked out, but you still got back up and pushed back. As uncool of a sister you were back then, you persisted.

Minho and Jisung would tease you and pick on you all they wanted, but you were still there at the end of the day. Tear stained cheeks and dirty clothes, and you were still there carrying your silly crush on your big brother’s best friend.

There was time spent building something to stand on, years of pining and banter lead to a feeling that you couldn’t just replace with a kind heart and a kiss.

No matter how nice the lips you kissed were.

Chan knew this too. He knew you were thinking of so many different factors at once, and he was still pulling you tight to him, aware that your kiss would be his last from you. What he felt with you was terrifying.

You both meant to forget.

His arms held you tight, hands respectfully placed on your waist as you pushed and pushed into the embrace. The kiss was all new and too intense, but there was something screaming at you to just keep going.

It grew more heated and your emotions mingled as a small voice began chipping away at the back of your mind; telling you that you didn’t deserve it, that you didn’t deserve him. Even as you found yourself lifting to your knees and straddling his waist, the voice persisted, not even silenced by the soft words that Chan spoke.

“I feel like you’re going to break if I touch you.” He admitted, voice unstable.

You shook your head in a daze, “I won’t, I promise.”

You wanted the thought of Jisung out—the thought of him touching another girl the same way Chan was touching you. Did he hold Hyunae like this? Did he kiss her like she was the most precious thing to him? Was there a chance that he would with you? Did he even want to?

You wanted no part of that thought so you pushed further.

“I’ll be okay, Chan. If it’s you, I’ll be okay.” You murmured.

Chan’s heart thudded in his chest.

And in that moment, he almost forgot that you were in love with someone else.

“Okay, I’ll take care of you.”

You smiled, a small burst of heat running over your cheeks.

“Sap…”

Chan nearly responded with, “but I’m your sap” but he managed to bite his tongue, distracting himself by slipping one hand under the hem of your shirt. His hand was cold but not unwelcome as it felt along your stomach, and for the first time being with Chan your thoughts slipped—his hand was too strong, too rough. It wasn’t soft and pretty like Jisung’s, it wasn’t warm and comfortable like Jisung’s had been around your waist that morning. Chan’s hands were veiny and cold to the touch. Of course ther was nothing wrong with that. But they weren’t Jisung’s.

All it took was one hug from Jisung to stir up your head, huh?

But he had felt so nice against your back, his with but muscular build feeling like it was meant to be there all along. He had hugged you from behind back in high school many times, his chin resting on your shoulder and his breath fanning over your neck. It was hard to focus then, and it had been hard to focus that morning as well. How did you not know it was Jisung?

Sure, he and Chan were similar in height but Jisung just fit differently.

And when his eyes landed on your neck, it had been the feeling of panic that crossed you. You didn’t want Jisung to see you like that—with another man’s markings over your throat.

A sudden thought crossed your mind as Chan slowed his lips journey on your neck…

Was it really Minho that was preventing you from dating?

The look in your brother’s eyes had been one of disappointment, but he hadn’t done anything, and deep down you knew there was no way he would really hurt the person you were in a relationship with. Of course he would scare them away and make it clear that he wasn’t a fan of you dating, but there you were, watching him do it, barely giving your big brother a slap on the wrist—

“Y/n,” Chan called, and you hadn’t even realized that he had taken his mouth off of your shoulder. “Babygirl…”

He tested the name on his tongue.

But his doubts were confirmed as you frowned. The nickname would’ve once sounded like heaven leaving his lips, but now...

He sent you a small smile after studying your features for a moment.

“Do you miss him, right now?”

Your eyes widened at his words—you did.

“No. Of course not,” you said, shaking your head with shaky inhales. “Why are you asking me that?”

There was an internal battle behind Chan’s eyes as he watched your face morph into discomfort. He was a little frustrated.

Chan removed his hand from underneath your shirt.

“If we’re going to be friends, Y/n… I don’t want you to lie to me anymore, okay?”

The shock that his words gave you made your eyes well up. It was like a punch to the gut to hear Chan scold you. He had never done such a thing before and you knew—you knew for sure that you couldn’t keep lying.

When you cried, Chan didn’t wipe away your tears, he simply kept his eyes on yours as his hand rubbed small circles on your back. You needed to cry, and of course Chan knew that.

He was Chan after all.

“I’m so sorry—” you hiccuped, swallowing air as your palms lifted to cover your eyes. “—this sucks. This really really sucks.”

Chan sighed, feeling the sleepless nights catch up to him as he watched you break down. It was the worst feeling. It wasn’t that you were very obviously in love with someone else despite how his own chest aches for you to sink back into him and kiss the tiredness away, no—it was the fact that it was tearing you apart. That was what hurt him the most.

“Go see Ji.”

Chan topped your head up with his finger, leaving one last peck to your tear covered lips.

“He’s probably still upset.”

You nodded, laying your head down on his chest with a shaky sigh. “You’re a good guy, Chan…”

“Yeah, I know.”

687 notes · View notes

gumnut-logic · 3 years

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Fabio Blue Nose

Aaaargh, this was supposed to be a short, but it has demanded to be longer and I’ve run out of time. I did not want another WIP!

But anyway, here be Fabio Blue Nose, or a start of some kind at least. I hope you enjoy this random fluff so far.

Many thanks to @tsarinatorment and @janetm74 for their support.

It should also be noted that no sea shanties were harmed in the creation of this fic. Nor are their any sea shanties in it, despite there being an urge to add one.

Aaaargh, it is 12.45am. I gotta go sleep, damnit.

-o-o-o-

The first time was an accident.

None of the brothers owned up to it but chances were it was Gordon, no matter how many times he swore complete innocence.

Though, come to think of it, Scott was rather more compliant than expected, so Virgil threw a little unspoken suspicion his way as well.

But anyway, it happened and it was a good thing.

There was always press at rescues that they could reach. Scott was fully aware of the importance of the media, particularly where communication and, to a certain extent, promotions were concerned. But when they got in the way of a rescue, the commander was well known to be intolerant.

This particular time, however, the press was managed by the GDF who were also onsite due to the scale of the disaster and possible sabotage, so International Rescue didn’t have to worry about them so much while they dug fifty miners out of a kilometre deep hole.

All but John were on the rescue. All but John were dirty, sweaty and ever so tired. There had been a chunk of rock that had needed demolition charges to get through, causing enough headache that even Virgil had been heard to spit profanity over comms when one of the charges misfired and nearly took his head off with shrapnel in the tunnel.

Eleven of the fifty men didn’t make it and there was some body recovery after the far too many trips it took to get them all back to the surface. In short, it had been an ugly, hard day. All the Tracys just wanted to go home and disappear into whatever distraction worked best for them.

Scott had to liaise with the GDF regarding red tape and reporting circumstances in the mine...that they should probably go down and see for themselves instead of relying on a civilian rescue organisation to do their dirty work for them. But whatever the reason, Virgil, Gordon and Alan were left to pack up and wait while all the dots and crosses were applied to appropriate Ts and Is.

It took longer than expected.

Virgil, sporting an aching shoulder, was reduced to pacing the length of Two’s open hatch. He should just take his brothers home and leave Scott to tackle the GDF.

But Scott was just as tired as they were and he had only just returned from another rescue when this callout came in. His big brother was exhausted and Virgil feared that if he left him behind they might end up a few GDF personnel short before the sun went down.

And the press were watching.

It was probably at this point the photo was taken.

It was iconic, even Virgil had to admit it. Emotive and made a statement about who they were and what they did.

The shot was from a forty-five degree angle, using a zoom lens that caught every detail of Two’s open module. Virgil stood in the middle of the ramp, paused mid-pace and staring off at something, probably Scott, in the distance. The shadow of Two in the evening light had his head in shadow, adding a heroic seriousness to his expression.

That alone was dramatic, but behind him from the camera angle, sitting on the top of the ramp to one side of the open hatch were Gordon and Alan.

Gordon had his arm around his little brother as they both stared in the same direction as Virgil. All three brothers were grimy and exhausted, Alan’s head was resting on Gordon’s shoulder.

It must have been an extraordinary lens to capture the detail because the media were fenced off a considerable distance away, but there was enough clarity to see one tear track in the dust on Alan’s face.

Their littlest brother claimed he had scratched his cheek, but they all knew better.

So, yes, this photo was taken and thrown across the planet as an illustration of three heroes of International Rescue.

There were rave reviews. Whole swaths of text praising everything their organisation did, what had been achieved that day and what had been achieved in the past. Inevitably, the history of International Rescue did the rounds again, their father’s legacy and all that. An unfortunate reminder of both the parents they had lost in the process. Being proud didn’t negate the pain that came along with it.

But due to the quirkiness of human attention, none of the above was the source of the impact the photo finally had.

It wasn’t Thunderbird Two or any of the three brothers photographed that captured most of the public’s attention.

It was a teddy bear.

Virgil kept a number of cuddly toys on Two. Some he had knitted himself, or purchased, a few were donated, but all were kept and given to children and occasionally adults, who were terrified during a rescue or evacuation and found themselves secured in Two’s module.

Perhaps the bear had fallen out of its storage, perhaps one of the brothers had shoved it aside. Whatever had happened, in the iconic photograph of three hardworking Tracy brothers, right at the back, inside the module sat a dark grey teddy bear with a blue nose and shiny eyes that caught the setting sun.

Staring right at the camera.

And the world went nuts for this bear.

It took less than a day for the fame of the teddy bear to become enough to alert Thunderbird Five and, in turn, roust Virgil out of bed - it’s lunchtime, Virgil, time enough to wake up.

Virgil’s answer to that was clear, precise and rated for adults only.

John triggered the coffee maker in the kitchen to start working its magic before his brother busted up something other than the English language.

Eventually, Virgil made it down to Two and dug out the bear responsible.

It was still sitting on top of the storage locker, which added kudos to Virgil’s flying skill.

He was going to shove it back into the locker when John asked him not to. Apparently, the bear had a following on social media.

So, Virgil picked it up and took it back up to the comms room. He placed it beside him at their father’s desk and pulled up a search screen and typed in ‘bear’ and ‘International Rescue’. He could, of course, ask John to forward him whatever his brother had obviously found, but he didn’t.

The search results that sprung up made it very clear that the world was most definitely obsessed with that bear.

There were zoomed in pictures of the inside of the module – a fact that had Virgil a little worried regarding security until he realised that anything that could possibly be compromised was just that little bit blurred. No doubt that was Eos at work. Probably snared the original photo before it could perpetuate.

But even then it was obvious that the posters had no interest in the technology. Several photos had the bear circled in red.

Various comments attempted to give reasons as to why the bear was there. The explanations were rather fantastical in the majority. A few were actually disturbing and linked Alan’s tear track to the bear – Virgil threw that bit of information at Thunderbird Five and that line of thought suddenly disappeared from the results. Some suggested the photograph was posed, a few mentioned that Thunderbird Two did carry such things and that was followed by a wave of genuine thanks and admiration for what they did…and then completely ignored when more fascinating ideas were presented.

Virgil was quite frankly amazed at what people could concoct from a photograph of a bear.

Said bear sat and stared at him the entire time. Its nose was very blue.

But ultimately the outcome that had occurred somewhere between all four brothers making it home last night and the time John dragged Virgil out of bed, Fabio Blue Nose had become a mascot for International Rescue.

Yes, ‘Fabio’.

Some inspired person had mentioned ‘F.A.B.’ as IR’s callsign and it went downhill from there.

Fabio stared at Virgil almost accusingly. His curly fur was a shade darker than Scott’s baldric and his eyes as golden as Gordon’s. His blue nose shone in the sunlight.

They had a teddy bear with a fan base, fan art and a dash of fan fiction.

Virgil caught his own name in one of them and shut it down so fast the browser crashed.

It didn’t help that an hour later Gordon found the same story and promptly paraded it around the villa for all to see and hear whether they wanted to or not. Apparently, because Virgil was the pilot of Thunderbird Two, Fabio was his crewmate.

A very heroic crewmate at that.

Could a teddy bear really rappel down a grapple like that?

He shook his head and threw a lounge cushion at his brother’s head. He really didn’t need to know.

But in any case, they now had a mascot that wasn’t Alan.

Gordon was hit in the head again for that assessment.

So, Fabio found his way to being sat on Two’s dash and accompanying them out on rescues.

The second photo was more than they had ever expected.

-o-o-o-

TBC?

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #fabio blue nose #Gordon Tracy #I don't know what the hell I was thinking

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catxsnow · 4 years

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CO-CAPTAINS D.W.

Request: could i please request a damian wayne x reader imagine where she's a complete badass who keeps damian on his toes and they both do debate (because let's be honest damians favourite sport would be to show how much better he is at arguing) and maybe they have to work together to prepare for one debate and have an enemies to lovers situation and the debate comes and the batfamily comes to watch but instead of the usual sour damian he's got the 💖lovebug💖 and simping over his partner.

Warning: fluff, Older!damian, x fem!reader

A/N: I’m so sorry I literally know nothing about debate?? I was a basketball kid in high school so I did that instead. If you’re not satisfied let me know PLEASE!! I’m happy to write something else as well but I hope that you enjoy!!

Word count: 4k

Gotham's private school were one of the few good things to come out of the city. The public school were terrifying and you were lucky enough to get scholarships into the best school in the city. At least, it had to be the best if Damian Wayne was going there, right?

Son of Bruce Wayne, richest kid probably in the entire world. He also happened to be the cockiest asshole you had ever met in your life. You were well acquainted with him being on the same basketball team and everything. There weren't enough girls to make a team that year which meant you had to play with the boys - not that it was a problem for you.

A lot of people underestimated you skill since you were one of two girls on the boys senior team. It came in handy with a lot of games where you came out scoring the most amount of points each quarter. You skill had brought you to captain of the team. Or at least co-captain with none other than Damian.

The two of you were constantly trying to outdo each other and see who was the better captain and who was the better player. It was a constant battle between the two of you. Damian drove you crazy with his cocky attitude and his ever lasting need to prove that he was right. He was constantly trying to call the plays and you knew god damn well that it wasn't going to work.

Half the time, you were right.

Damian found you infuriating. A girl shouldn't be playing on the boys team - everyone knew that. Yet, here you were. You were proving to be better than half the guys on the team and Damian couldn't stand you for it. He hated when you were right and when you scored more points than he did.

Mostly, he hated that you always had to fight against him, rather than agree with him. You guys could never see eye to eye. And as much as you wanted to blame all the fights on him, most of them were started by you. You couldn't stand to see his stupid smirk when he came up with an idea to win the game.

Everyone on the team knew that you didn't like one another. Sometimes it fueled them up to win the game they were playing. Mostly, it got in the way to the extent that you had lost a game. The worst case was when Damian refused to pass to you and during the last few seconds of the final quarter, missed the shot and lost the game.

Yours and Damian's feud started long before you joined the boys team. Two years ago, there were enough girls to form a separate team. Some practices you would scrimmage against them - that was when your hatred started.

It was his first year playing and he was infuriated that you were beating him at every chance you got. Offense, defense, even court side you seemed to out wit him. He was tired of you and he didn't even know your name - just your number. His number.

"Wayne!" You shouted. Damian once again had his nose in his phone. You guessed that being the son of Bruce meant that he had diligent responsibilities to attend to as well - that didn't mean he got to be excused from practice though. Damian's eyes darted to you and a scowl spread on his lips. “Just because your co-captain doesn’t mean you can skip practice.”

You had to admit that it was one of your favourite past times to piss him off in anyway you could. Whether it was because it made you feel like the better captain or because he looked a little too hot when he was angry. Still, he threw his phone back in his bag and ran onto the court to join you and the others.

It was the end of practice and he looked like he was itching to leave. However, Coach had one last drill to run before hitting the change rooms. It pushed you just hard enough that sweat dripped down your face and soaked the back of your neck. Damian didn't even appear to even break a sweat.

With all the years that you had known him, he never seemed to be overworked. Coach would throw everything at him and he would always accomplish it with ease. You hated him for it. Whatever aestheticism he had was natural, you had to work you ass off for it. Nothing seemed to tire him out.

You nearly dropped to the floor the second the change room door closed. The cold tiles would have felt nice against your hot skin but you didn't know if you'd be able to get back up after you got down. So, you reluctantly threw on some sweats and a hoodie and headed out to catch your bus home.

Of course by the time that you got out there, all the other players were long gone and the only person left was Damian Wayne. Unlike you, he wasn't waiting for the bus, he was waiting for his butler. You wished you had that kind of luxury in your life - Gotham City busses weren't always the most reliable.

"(L/N)," Damian acknowledged you. The bus you were going to catch wasn't going to be there for another twenty minutes. As much as you didn't want to stay with Damian, you also felt a hell of a lot safer standing next to him rather than yourself. "Your free throws were off today."

"Thanks," You rolled your eyes. Of course he noticed your weakness of the day. He always seemed to be pointing out things you did wrong during practice and especially during games. You held up your hand to show him your taped fingers which seemed to be a good enough answer for as to why you were off. "Crushed my pinky last night."

"TT," he nodded. Part of you hated when he did that. That other part thought his little tick was adorable. The worst thing about hating Damian was that he also did the smallest gestures that made you swoon to him. You liked to blame it on his rich-boy-son-of-Bruce-Wayne facade, but you knew that wasn't it.

"You were leaning to your right instead of left today," this time you pointed out his flaw. Damian lifted up his pant leg to show of his ankle brace. How you hadn't noticed it in practice, you weren't sure.

"Two days ago," Damian briefly told you. "Don't worry, I could have crutches and I'd still be a better player than you." You scowled at him. The second that you thought that the two of you could get along, of course he had to go and ruin that with some plain-faced compliment.

"I'm pretty sure that someone who's never stepped onto a court could do better than you," you scoffed. The short time that you had left you little imagination to come up with insult. "My bus is going to be here soon, better go catch your babysitter."

"He's my butler," Damian corrected. You always referred to Alfred as Damian's babysitter - with his childish attitude god knows he needed one.

"Whatever," you were already walking away from him. As you continued to the bus stop, you spun around and flipped him off. Your middle fingers were raised high in the air and you could nearly feel his glare at you. "Have fun being privileged."

What you didn't know, was that Damian knew Alfred was there the whole time. He didn't want to leave you waiting in the dangerous streets of Gotham by yourself - not when he knew the horrors that were truly within them.

Damian knew you were one tough motherfucker.

He knew that on the court you were ruthless, unforgiving, and determined. Playing against a bunch of men that towered over you and sometimes having way more body mass against you meant you had to be tough. It was something that he always respected you for. Time and time again you surprised him with being able to take care of yourself.

Tonight was a home game and you were more than excited to be out on the court and kick some sorry ass. Just as always, the other team was shocked to see a girl playing and instantly started making fun of you. They were rough on you, refs were obviously not caring enough to call the fouls, and you were pissed.

By the third quarter, you were furious that so many calls were being missed. Your shooting started to get more forced and your defense more aggressive. It wasn't until the player you were guarding jabbed his elbow into your face did you finally have enough.

Blood dripped down your busted lip and your fists clenched up at your sides. If it wasn't for the bright red flowing out of you, you were sure that it would have been another foul that was shrugged off. With the sound of a the whistle being blown, both teams headed back to their benches.

"Fuck these refs!" You seethed. The back of your hand was smeared with blood from wiping it away. Your coach glared at you for the swear but since you were feeling ballsy, you only glared back at him.

You were already in a bad mood. Before the game had started, you and Damian had another one of your spats. This had been a big one too, you had never yelled at him so much in your life before. And to be honest, you couldn't even remember why it had started. He had said something to tick you off and it had just escalated from there.

The two of you were the first to arrive to the game - as it seemed to happen every time. While waiting for everyone else, you found yourself arguing once more. He always seemed to find the kind of things to just make you angry enough not to be able to forgive him. It drove you crazy.

When some of the other players filed in, the two of you stomped off in your own directions and never spoke again unless necessary. Damian was the one person that you could never get along with no matter how much you tried. And you wished you could get along with him too.

He was your co-captain, you should have easily been able to get along with him. Damian was someone that you truly could see yourself getting along with if he wasn't so damn stubborn.

"She's right," Damian suddenly defended you. He couldn't help but be in awe of you as you nonchalantly shrugged off the wound. You were fuming at the team, the refs, and now your couch. Damian had never seen you so riled up before and he had to admit that he loved this side of you.

"Doesn't matter," your coach cut the both of you off. "(Y/N), you're out for the rest of the game."

"No!" You argued. There was no way that you were going to be benched for some busted lip. Your coach wasn't going to let you argue it. So, for the rest of the game you grumbled on the bench and glared at any player from the other team that ran by you. This was unfair, yet no one seemed to disagree with the coach.

As the last seconds of the final quarter ticked away, victory was upon your team. The last buzzer went off and your team crowded around each other for the win. You on the other hand, already stalked off the the change room. Your bag was hastily thrown to the ground and you planted your hands on the edge of the sink.

To no surprise, your lip was swollen and bloody. A split ran vertically on the bottom and dried blood was caked around it. You splashed cold water on your face, hoping that it would cool you down - both from your heat and your anger. It didn't do either.

Your team was most likely already waiting for you for a post-game talk. That was the last thing you wanted to partake in. Unfortunately, you were already in enough trouble as it was and you couldn't miss this. You shoved a hoodie on and joined the rest of your teammates outside.

Twenty minutes later you had nearly droned out everything your coach was telling you and your team. Everyone decided to join up at the pizza place a couple streets down from the school before heading home. You on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to be in your own bed away from everyone else.

A hand on your shoulder stopped you from walking away. Damian.

"What?" You snapped.

"Calm down, (L/N)," Damian rolled his eyes. He had the time to cool off from your fight several hours ago - you on the other hand most definitely had not. "Come get pizza with the rest of us. I know you're in a... bad mood, but it'll be good to spend time with everyone without coach there."

"No."

"I'll buy," Damian offered. You rolled your eyes at him. A slice of pizza really must have just dug into his budget a lot - being so rich and all. "Just... I'm sorry, for earlier. I shouldn't have said those things."

"Wow, is Damian apologizing?" You were genuinely shocked. He never apologized after any of your fights so he must have felt bad about this one. "I guess I'm going to have to come now."

The final game of the season always made you nervous. This year, was even worse. Senior year of high school meant that scouts would be watching for new players in university. Tonight, the gym was packed with them. You needed this scholarship if you wanted to get into the university of your dreams.

To make matters worse - Damian's family had shown up as well. Bruce Wayne and several of his brothers and sisters sat in the stands. It was the first time that you had seen them together outside of his ridiculously expensive galas. Bruce had shown up to support his son - his siblings wanted to see this girl that he had ranted on and on about.

There were many times after practice - or even just regular school days - where Damian would come home and complain about how much he hated you. He was constantly infuriated by your presence and he couldn't stand the thought about how impossible you were to try and have a proper conversation with.

Dick was the one who heard about it the most. He told Jason about it, who started showing up to the manor just to his little brother get so worked up about a girl. Steph became the most invested - she wanted to know everything there was about you and most importantly how, how she could get the two of you together.

Tim didn't believe that it would ever happen. When Damian hated someone, there was no changing his mind about it. You seemed to be at the top of his list at the moment and there was no way that Steph's wishes would ever come true. Damian hated you, simple as that.

You stood on the court side bouncing up and down on your toes. All the nervous energy was pent up inside of you and you had no idea how to get it out. This game meant everything to you - you needed to show off how good of a player you were and that you deserved to have a full-ride scholarship.

"You okay?" Damian stood beside you. He had grown a lot since you first met him. Before, you stood at the same height as him, now, he towered over you. His arms were crossed over his chest as he looked down at you. You couldn't help but briefly gaze at his muscles that popped out of his jersey before meeting his eyes.

"Nervous," you answered.

"Why? We've beat this team before. Is it because it's the finals?" Damian raised an eyebrow. You were never one to show off your nerves - especially right before a game.

"No," you shook your head. "Scouts. I need a scholarship to get into university. I'm just worried I'm gonna fuck up tonight and lose my chance."

"You're going to do fine," Damian assured. You weren't used to this side of him. He never was one to boost your confidence, always the one to tear it down. "If it makes you feel better, I'm nervous too."

"You? Nervous?" you cheekily grinned up at him. Damian rolled his eyes and nudged your side.

"My father is here," he jutted his chin in the general direction of his family. One of the older men seemed to notice and waved at you both. "And my nuisance brothers and sisters. They've never seen one of our games before."

You didn't have a chance to say anything else. A whistle echoed through the gym and the two of you were ushered onto the court. The second that you stood within the lines, your nerves seemed to wash away.

Damian stood in the center for the tip off. He did a short glance back at you and have a reassuring nod. For some bizarre reason, it filled you with joy. You felt a surge of confidence as well as determination. Whatever happened after tonight was out of your control. All you knew was that you had to bust your ass out there and everything would work out one way or another.

That game, you had worked like you never had before. You were making nearly every shot and putting up such a great defense. For the first time in your lives, you and Damian were working in sync. It seemed like he knew what you wanted to do before you even had the chance to think it. The two of you were incredible.

His family noticed how well you worked together. After everything that they heard about you - they assumed his hatred would show on the court as well. Most of the time, that was true. Tonight, you had never seen anything like this before. It was your best game of your life - skill wise.

At half time, your team huddled around to devise a strategy for the second half. You were ahead of the other team, but only by a few points. This was the final game of the season, you had to win. You stood beside Damian in the huddle.

Sweat dripped down his skin which seemed to accentuate his beautifully tanned skin. He left from your side and part of you felt disappointed at his departure. However, he returned only moments later with his water bottle, as well as yours. You thanked him as you grabbed it from his hand.

"You guys are on fire out there," One of your teammates stood behind you and Damian. He had a hand on each of your shoulders and a grin on his face. "It's crazy! I've never seen you work together like this before. Guess you guys are uh, warming up to each other, huh?"

Coach called him over before you could reply to him. He squeezed your shoulder before jogging off in the other direction. Damian didn't look too pleased by the short encounter either.

"Scouts have been watching you all night," Damian looked over to where one of them was sitting in the stands. He had made sure that he made all the right assists for you so that you would go noticed. It was working - you were doing incredible.

"Still half a game left to go," You muttered. As soon as you stepped off the court, you nerves had started to come back. "Thank you, for everything out there."

"(Y/N)? Thanking me?" He teased. He never had a playful attitude like this - but you had to admit that you really liked that side of him. The smile that caused his eyes to crinkle and his cheeks to squish. You couldn't help but gleam up at him the second that you saw it. "Come on, coach wants us."

The rest of the game went just about as good as the first half. You were drowning in sweat from all the work you were doing but if the scouts kept their eyes on you, then it was well worth it. You and Damian continued on just as you had before - playing as if you were one person, not two.

The final quarter came and went with your team pulling way into the lead. By the time the final buzzer went off, your team had already celebrated it's final win of the season. It was you and Damian that had been the reason for such a dramatic win - and the scouts knew it.

You had been pulled off to the side by one scout in particular before you could even make it to the change room. He happened to be from the university that you were so wanting to go to. Before he could even finish his offer for a full ride, you already had a massive grin on your face and nodded your head yes.

This had been exactly what you wanted in your life, you needed this win. The scout left you to go get changed and speak with your team. However, you had ran into Damian first. Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure it was going to pop out of your chest with excitement.

Whether it was the adrenaline, the excitement, or the pure happiness you felt, you weren't sure - but that didn't stop you from running to Damian and up into his arms. Damian nearly tumbled at your sudden weight. You legs wrapped around his torso and your palms were on his cheeks. Before he could ask what the hell you were doing, you kissed him.

Damian was standing there in shock. He held your legs for support and you could feel them stiff against your bare skin. Then, he melted into your touch. Damian kissed you back with the same cheerful energy that you had. His grip on you became more natural and he felt as if he never wanted to let you go.

The clapping and cheering from your team had pulled you guys apart. Damian carefully set you back down on the ground and stepped away from you. Heat of embarrassment crawled up his skin. "I'm sorry," You squeaked out. "I just, I wanted to thank you. Scouts are interested me and it's all because of you."

You had never really thought about Damian in this way. Sure, he frustrated the hell out of you and sometimes you wanted to punch him in his perfect little face, but you never found yourself hating him. Yet, you never thought that you’d want to kiss him either.

The instinct feeling that you had? That spoke more than anything else. After all this excitement, you should have thought to tell your parents, your best friend first. Instead, it was Damian. Maybe it was because you ran into him first, but you couldn’t blame your thoughts on that as well.

"They're interested in you because of how great of a player you are, not because of me," Damian argued. His cheeks were tinged the slightest pink as he stared into your eyes. "And there's no need to apologize... I enjoyed that. I'm sorry for being terrible to you for all these years."

"I deserved a lot of it. I'm sorry as well," You told him. Damian placed his hand on your waist, closing the gap that was between you. He tilted down, placing his lips on yours once again. He never realized how much he had argued with you just to hide his own feelings until now. All these years of fighting had been pointless.

This time, it was a camera flash that broke you apart. A blonde girl with a huge grin on her face held up her phone. Damian scowled at her. "Steph!"

"Tim!" Steph ran back to Tim as well as the rest of Damian's family. She was holding the phone high up in the air, obviously excited to show her brother about what she had just seen.

"Sorry," Damian apologized once more. He glared over in the direction of Steph running away to meet the rest of her siblings. "My family can be a lot sometimes."

"Well if they're anything like you, that doesn't surprise me," you joked. You glanced between him, the team, and his family - all of which seemed to be looking towards you. "Wanna ditch the team and our families and get out of here?"

"Never thought you'd ask."

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne oneshot #older!damian #dc #dc imagine #dc one shot #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam imagine #fluff #damian wayne x fem!reader

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scimitar-and-longsword · 4 years

Note

I've got a prompt about Joe & Booker brotp 🤜💥🤛 Joe is still very angry with Booker, but the team needs his help for a mission. While Booker tries again to power through his depression by pretending he's doing okay (like he fears that if they saw how mentally unwell he actually is they might resent him even more for not getting better). For the first time Joe starts to see all the cracks in Bookers facade.

On Nony! All my dreams in this one request! Joe seeing Booker’s depression break through a bit is gonna break both his and my heart!!!! ahhhhhhh!! All right, *cracks Knuckles* let’s do this.

—————–

Brothers Fight.

Things happened so quickly.

Joe didn’t have the chance to argue when Andy had suggested they call Booker. Partly because it was Andy, and you don’t argue with Andy. But also because Nicky had shot him a sharp look when he had opened his mouth to argue with her anyway.

The next thing Joe knew, he was sitting on an empty car of a passenger train, staring daggers into the back of Booker’s head.

“Settle down.” Nicky whispered harshly in Arabic.

Joe sighed and shifted in his seat. He relaxed hands he hadn’t realized were clenched into fists on his lap, and switched to looking out the window at the Chinese countryside whizzing past.

It was not at all convenient for Booker to join them from Paris, and they all knew it. It had barely been five years, not to mention the fact that they had already broken his exile once only six months after it started because of the whole Quynh thing.

Everyone else wanted Booker back. Well, mostly Nile wanted him back. At least she was the most outspoken about it.

But Joe could see it on Andy’s face every time Nile brought up that she missed Booker, or wondered aloud what Booker thought of the latest news. Joe had even seen the pain and longing flicker in Nicky’s eyes more than once at the mention of Booker.

Joe just couldn’t bring himself to forgive Booker, not yet.

The train lurched as the track began to turn ever so slightly.

Nicky suddenly got out of his seat and walked to the other end of the car where Nile was sitting. He probably could feel Joe’s mind turning over the Booker issue in his head. Joe knew the whole situation bothered Nicky, but he couldn’t help it. Andy was stretched across the entire row in front of Nile, her feet barely visible where they stuck out into the aisle.

Nicky sat in the seat across the aisle from Nile. She perked up when she noticed him and immediately passed an earbud to him, leaning partway into the aisle so that the cord would reach.

Joe smiled, despite his sour mood.

Watching the friendship between Nile and Nicky blossom had been a joy over the past five years. They had bonded in their love of music, and their religious backgrounds. When Nicky wasn’t with Joe he could often be found entertaining Nile with tales of battles from hundreds of years ago.

Booker cleared his throat and Joe’s attention was abruptly shifted back to his former friend. He felt an ache grow in his chest.

What absolutely lucky and ungrateful bastard Joe had been. To have been gifted a soulmate in Nicky and a brother in Booker and to not realize what he had.

He had wanted for nothing in his long life, not truly. He had lacked nothing. Family, friendship, safety, love. All of it wrapped up in this group. But he had not realized the space that Booker had filled in his heart until he was gone.

When they first found Booker, it had taken Nicky all of two years to start making jokes about Joe having two soulmates. And as much as Joe bristled at the implication, no matter how joking it was, that anyone could replace Nicky, Joe knew what he meant.

Booker and Joe just got each other. Of course Booker got along with Andy, and though it was less obvious, with Nicky too. But Joe and Booker, they were brothers.

They made each other laugh, and enjoyed watching sports. They shared a distaste for modern music and enjoyed hiking and running together.

They had slightly shorter tempers than Andy and Nicky had. And just as often as not the two of them could be found arguing about some trivial thing or another.

Joe never yelled at Nicky, and he hardly yelled at Andy, but fuck if he didn’t have his fair share of screaming matches with Booker over the years.

Despite that though, or perhaps because of it, Booker was his best friend.

Joe knew he had taken Booker’s betrayal harder than anyone else. He’d talked about it at length with Nicky. Even though Joe hated talking about Booker now. He hated thinking about him too. It hurt too much.

Still, he couldn’t hide this, not from Nicky. His heart knew him too well.

Booker cleared his throat again. And Joe sighed, releasing a held breath.

The train swayed slightly as the track straightened out once more.

Booker had cried into Joe’s shoulder for hours on the night his son finally passed from cancer. Joe had spent probably a fifth of his evenings since Booker had joined them watching the man get sloppy drunk, and laughing with him into the early hours of the morning.

Booker’s betrayal had hurt him, had hurt Nicky, and had almost killed Andy. Nile had been dragged into a fight she had not been prepared for within days of learning of her immortality. Joe had stared down the reality of years, potentially decades, of torture for him and Nicky because of Booker.

All of that hurt. But that wasn’t the reason Joe couldn’t forgive Booker, not really.

It was that Joe had no idea Booker was in so much pain. Joe knew Booker was a bit of a brooder, but he also had so much life, and fire within him.

How could Joe not have known? How could he not have seen the extent of the pain his friend was going through?

To have wanted so desperately to end it all, desperately enough to sell them out, but to still not have confided in Joe, not even once. Fuck- it hurt.

But even as Joe’s thoughts formed he felt guilty. How could he be mad at someone experiencing so much pain?

The endless cycle of anger and guilt he had been locked in for five years continued. Perhaps he wasn’t only mad at Booker, perhaps he was mad at himself too.

Booker had been an intricate part of Joe’s happiness for over two hundred years. Joe had never considered that the brotherhood he thought he had with Booker was one sided.

But he considered it now.

That part of his life was over, or at least on pause. Perhaps he could find it in his heart to forgive Book and to forgive himself. But not yet, the pain was still too new.

Nile laughed at something Nicky said and yanked her headphone cord back, the earbud in Nicky’s ear flying out with it.

“Ow!” Nick said, but there was a small smile on his lips and a crinkle at the side of his eyes.

Joe smiled to himself. Had this been what Nicky had felt watching him and Booker bond?

And just like that, his smile faded and he sighed once more.

“Will you stop that?” Booker snapped at him from where he sat two rows in front of Joe.

Booker turned and made eye contact with Joe over the tops of the seats.

“I can hear you being irritable from here.” Booker’s eyes didn't leave Joe’s as he spoke.

Joe rolled his eyes in response.

“Gee, I wonder what on earth could make me irritable?”

“Do you really want to do this right now?” Booker said flatly.

“No,” Joe spat back, the volume of his voice seemed to be increasing without his permission, “I want to do this in ninety five years! But no one else seems to agree with me, so this is what you get. Irritable, angry, old me.”

“Typical.” Booker stood up, “You’d let your anger at me get in the way of a mission? Put people in danger for the sake of your grudge. Can’t control yourself for, what, how long has it been? Five hours since I got back?” Joe was up now too, meeting Booker in the aisle.

“My anger get in the way of a mission? My anger? I can do my fucking job Booker.” Joe said, stepping up closer to his former friend. “I would never put my bullshit in front of the safety of my family.”

Booker took a step backwards at Joe's advancement toward him. A look of pain flashed across his face, but it disappeared just as fast.

Somewhere in the back of Joe’s mind a small voice, that sounded very much like Nicky, chastised him for going for the kill with that last sentence. He couldn’t bring himself to care though, he was too angry. Angry and embarrassed. He couldn’t stop the emotion spilling out of him now. A damn was broken.

Still, Joe took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice even. He was vaguely aware that the low chatter coming from Nicky and Nile had stopped, but his eyes never left Booker.

“Was everything a lie? Did you enjoy any moment of your life with us?”

Booker turned around toward where Nicky and Nile were seated and then back toward Joe. His face was stern.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” He said as he pushed passed Joe toward the back of the train.

“How can I if you never told me?”

“Hard to tell you anything while in exile.” Booker bit back. He tilted his head toward the ceiling, his back still to Joe.

“You know what I mean, Book. Two hundred years and you never-” Joe started but Booker cut him off.

“I don’t want to have this fight again Joe,” Booker said, his voice finally rising to match Joe’s, “No matter how many times you scream at me about it, I can’t change the reasons I had for what I did! I had- have no one. I have nothing keeping me here.”

“You had me!” Joe shouted back at him.

“What?” Booker said with genuine surprise. He finally turned back to face Joe.

“You had me,” Joe said, he swallowed and took a deep breath. His eyes darted throughout the train trying to collect his thoughts, “You were my brother, Book.”

Booker just stared at him. And after a moment Joe had no choice but to keep talking.

“Obviously you didn’t feel the same way, but I thought we were close enough that you could have confided in me. I would have helped you- at least I would have tried.” Joe finished his sentence, feeling utterly exposed.

“I-uh.” Booker stuttered.

Joe felt his anger drain away rather quickly at the sight of Booker’s complete surprise.

A long moment passed where neither of them spoke. Behind him Joe could hear nothing from Nicky, Nile, or Andy.

Booker stared at him as though Joe had just told him the earth was flat.

Finally, Booker broke the eye contact and stared down at the floor. Joe closed his eyes and brought his hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing to speak.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Joe said, “You were my best friend Book. And I say that knowing Nile and Andy can hear me. You filled a place in my heart I didn’t know was empty. I thought I did that for you too.”

Booker didn’t respond, he just continued to stare at his feet.

“You know, when we were on the plane to London, Nicky and I, and one of the guards told us they had left you open and bleeding at the Church. I took him to the ground and broke a rib before they pulled me off him. The guard who said he’d thrown the flash-bang that killed you? Nicky broke his arm.”

Booker looked at him with guilt and self loathing in his eyes.

Joe’s heart finally broke at that moment. Booker was so much worse off than he had ever thought.

“I’m fucking this up. I’m sorry, I don’t want to add to your guilt. I just- I want you to know I care about you. I don’t know if it would have made a difference if I had been better about letting you know that back then. I don’t know if it does now. But I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear, that we didn’t make that clear.”

“You’re apologising to me?” Booker said.

“Yes.” Joe said and gave Booker a small smile, “I’m still mad at you. But you fight with family, Booker. Brothers fight.”

Booker gave a small nod, and walked back past Joe to his seat.

Joe turned around to see Nile, Nicky, and Andy all staring back at him. Nile’s mouth was slightly open. Nicky’s eyes had a sparkle to them, Joe could tell he was proud of him. Andy sighed and disappeared once more behind the seat back presumably to lie back down.

Joe felt exposed and dangerously close to crying, so he ducked back into his seat as well. And then he did cry. First silently, and then a little louder when Nicky finally came back to sit next to him.

---

The mission was successful. Everyone worked together as if the last five years hadn’t happened.

Once again they found themselves in a slightly less empty train car, this one an open freight car, but full of rescued kidnapping victims.

Nile was telling a group of particularly young children an overly acted out fairy tale. Nicky was at the edge of that group wrapping a bandage around a small boy’s arm. Andy sat with her back against the side of the car, trying her best to keep everyone in her sight.

Booker had just finished telling a group of four teens to try and get some sleep while they could.

Joe and Booker hadn’t said anything to each other that wasn’t directly related to the mission since the conversation on the train. And now that they were out of immediate danger, Joe couldn’t help but feel the hanging question in the air.

“This doesn’t change anything. Not yet.” Joe said to Booker as he walked up to stand next to him.

“I know.” Booker said flatly.

“I don’t think we’ll last the whole century though.” Joe added.

They stood like that, for a long time. Neither man looking at the other, preferring to feign busyness by watching over the increasing number of sleeping children.

“I think you should talk to someone.” Joe said finally.

“And tell them what?”

“The truth. That you’re lonely. That you’ve been in a downward spiral for years and don’t know how to get yourself out again.”

“The truth?” Booker said sarcastically.

“Well,” Joe paused for a moment, “you should probably omit a few details.”

Booker chuckled and Joe felt a warmth in his chest.

Another hour or so had passed before Booker spoke again.

“I feel the same way you know.”

They were the only two still awake in the train car.

“Felt- I felt the same way.” Booker corrected, “I just didn’t want to play second fiddle to Nicky so I pushed it away.”

“Nicky is the great love of my life. Andy is a mentor and fierce companion. Nile already feels- I don’t know- I feel quite fatherly towards her.” Joe chuckled, “ I’m not sure how she would feel about that though.”

Booker nodded, and crossed his arms.

“And you were- you are- like a brother to me Book. You’re not second to anyone in that. I know you have your loneliness, and I know I can’t fix that tonight, but you are not alone. We all love you Book, even after everything that happened.”

They didn’t speak for the rest of their watch. Switching with Nile and Nicky as night turned to early morning.

They didn’t speak again until Joe was walking Booker towards the departures gate for his flight back to Paris.

“I mean it, Book. Talk to someone, at least try and sort through some of your shit.”

“I will.”

Joe pulled Booker into a hug. The first one he had given him since before Nile had joined them.

“I’ll see you in a few years yeah?” Joe said, suddenly overwhelmed with saying goodbye.

Booker nodded, and broke the hug first. He turned and disappeared into the airport.

Joe walked back over to Nile, Andy, and Nicky waiting by the curb.

Andy smiled at him, lines around her eyes already showed signs of age that they didn’t five years ago. He wouldn’t be able to keep Booker away for much longer, it wasn’t fair to Andy. It wasn’t fair to any of them.

Nicky slipped his hand into Joe’s, lacing their fingers together as the group walked away.

“I’m really proud of you,” Nicky said in Arabic.

“I miss him.” Joe said back in Arabic, squeezing his love’s hand.

“We’ll see him again. Sooner than you think.” Nicky said.

Joe believed him, and for the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to seeing Booker again.

((Available on AO3 as well, link on my tumblr 💜))

#request #ask #my stuff #the old guard #the old guard fic #joe #booker #brotp #sebastien le livre #yusuf al kaysani #I really wrote this like a romance didn't i #All good friendships are though #you're falling in platonic love with someone #maybe I'm a bit too much of a romantic though lol #lets all applaud the real otp here though #booker x therapy #my fics #Booker & Joe

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midoriyashotos · 3 years

Text

Anguish of the Quirkless

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shoto (could be platonic... though I ship them a lot lmao)

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shoto; MENTIONED - Bakugo Katsuki

Summary: Izuku doesn’t explode.

But burn after burn, he can’t take it anymore.

AO3 / Fanfiction

A/N: I had no reason to write this other than the fact I’ve been really angry and I needed to write something down.

I guess this is technically my first Tododeku fic? But like, it isn’t the focus here, so interpret it the way you want (if you can). I hope this didn’t turn out to be too OOC, though.

Please be aware of the tags and disclaimers below. Be safe. <3

TRIGGER WARNINGS - childhood trauma, past bullying/abuse and injury

*NOT BAKUGO/BAKUDEKU FRIENDLY!

Izuku doesn’t explode.

If anything, he’s more than scared of explosions. The explosions that silence him, that burn his tongue and his arms and legs, and the notebook of his fanboyish train of thought. The blasts that keep happening no matter how far away he is.

So no, he doesn’t explode. He probably can’t.

Though every time he stares at the blond spikes of his classmate, Izuku is sickened by a cocktail of years of combustions.

Maybe he does admire the beauty of the explosions when far away. Depending on them, they can actually be quite beautiful when done for the greater good. But when he’s so near, to try to reach them, Izuku gets injured. It’s probably his fault to begin with.

But even with patience and care, Izuku is always exploded back to where he’s been stuck in since he was four.

Izuku is always behind Katsuki. He can’t go around him and walk away. He can’t push him aside, he can’t as much as talk to him. Katsuki will forever be a wall, a minefield that will remain activated until the end of time.

And most importantly, Izuku can never explode back.

He hates explosions, after all.

The flaming blend of feelings, however, reach his mind at times he should be feeling okay.

The image of himself exploding Katsuki, of yelling at him, beating the crap out of him sickens the young hero to no end.

But it replays in his head still, even when they’re not fighting and instead having fun with their other classmates. Izuku stares at Katsuki for mere seconds and the thoughts come to him. The freckled boy swallows it all back, until it comes to haunt him at night. Until the burns sting his arms and his heart.

Izuku has tense nights, yet he never explodes. Ever.

You’d think Izuku would be happy here. He is happy, though, to be where he’s dreamed of for so long.

But each day that passes, he seems to get worse, he’s sick and tired and angry, and the combustions are closer to his heart. The fantasies become more violent, they’re disturbing. Izuku stains his hands, massacring the remaining of blond hair and hateful red eyes.

Izuku could never take blood from someone. It’s awful – he’s being awful. What would others think? What would everyone else think? All Might, his mother, his friends?

Izuku knows he can cry, but what about the rage? What about the ticking bomb inside him? The bomb that might be close to destroying all around him?

He can’t let anyone see.

Least of all Katsuki.

Thankfully, U.A. owns several gymnasiums for the students to train. Few, though, are somewhat left aside due to the new ones, but they don’t really close them. His classmates don’t seem to use them either, as far as he’s concerned.

Izuku finds the classic training tools, including several, big punching bags – different from those you see in common gyms, obviously. They’re able to take up a lot more damage, useful for physical-focused quirks.

He prepares and attacks. Holding it back, Izuku knows to be careful, to protect others. He hates explosions. He hates hurting others.

(All everyone has ever done was hurt him. Why? He was powerless. Quirkless. Deku.)

(That’s why he reclaimed the name, to transform it into someone who could be trusted, someone who could never hurt.)

Izuku kicks, dodges, as if in a real fight. He gives the bag mercy. Probably unnecessary.

(No one gave him mercy.)

(Midoriya Izuku, a boy who could never do wrong, who did nothing but exist.)

(He was exploded like no one ever was.)

The boy’s hands shine red with One for All, as do his eyes. The punching bag absorbs the power, becoming harder to punch and overcome. Izuku continues to spare it, to no avail.

(No matter what he does, he’ll continue to be blasted on the face.)

(Whether he’s powerless or not. The explosions will punish him until he’s gone.)

It’s then that the bag’s energy turns against him and blows him away, Izuku falling back and failing, once again.

It’s all too familiar.

Izuku roars.

He advances with his all, at the same speed as Gran Torino’s, but with a rage unknown to others. A rage from no hero. Heroes don’t feel hate, only towards evil – yet never, never to this extent. With revenge comes nothing. No hero should be selfish.

(This doesn’t come from a hero. It comes from… a boy? A monster?)

And Izuku is attacking the bag with no barriers holding him back. The second time it attacks, Izuku doesn’t let himself fall again. He returns at full speed and destroys the bag. He’s yelling this entire time, his throat hurting yet he’s far from quitting.

“WHY?!” Izuku demands from the bag. “WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME?!”

As always, he gets no answer, only blows and ignorance. And he’s punching it again.

The red of the bag infuriates him, it’s all he sees, and he wants to eradicate.

All those years, all that time never fighting back, never looking for solutions after years of rejections; they all come back to stab him again.

You’re useless.

Pathetic.

You need to deal with it.

“You RUINED MY LIFE!” Izuku screams, eyes shut but red, dams overflowing. “AND YOU DON’T EVEN CARE!”

Despite his cries and punches, they’re not moving, they’re not listening. When have they ever? When?

“I HATE YOU!” Izuku yells, his most disliked words. He’d never say to anyone.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!”

“I

HATE

YOU!!! ”

CRASH!

He yelps at the force thrown back at him. Smoke enters his nose, painful coughs echoing.

When Izuku looks back, he gasps without making a sound.

He didn’t destroy just one bag – it fired back and damaged the other ones, now abandoned on the floor.

And even then—

Izuku growls and punches the floor, this time without any power left.

He’s still burning.

It doesn’t matter. It never matters.

Now everything smokes and suffocates him, and he’s crying the most he’s ever did.

That’s why he hates explosions.

Izuku doesn’t go to Recovery Girl, nor does he tell anyone. He hopes Aizawa-sensei never finds out what he’d done. He looked for cameras and, thankfully, found none.

He lies to his friends he trained in the woods and got a little ahead of himself. As a response, Uraraka tells him to be careful and Iida insists Quirk training should be balanced for him, as a hero in training. Two important statements, of course.

Todoroki, however, observes.

It’s the most he does. Todoroki watches and sees all, barely saying much. He reads people like no one else does. He was the first to realize something would go wrong with Iida, when the latter had wanted to seek his brother’s almost assassin.

This is different, though. So much different.

Izuku ignores it the best he can.

Late at night, he can’t sleep. The green-eyed boy sneaks in the kitchen, to grab some tea to make. His classmates seem to have healthy sleep schedules, especially when exams are out of the scene.

So slow steps take him off guard, and Izuku hides his arms under his sleeves.

“Midoriya.”

He sighs deeply. “Oh, Todoroki-kun… it’s just you. What’s up?”

Todoroki shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh. Me neither.”

“Hm.”

Todoroki is doing it again, he can tell. Watching him. (Judging.)

Izuku hates being watched – he’s watched the entire time.

The tea doesn’t take much longer to be ready, so Izuku barely bats an eye to Todoroki and makes his way to the stairs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he mumbles.

“Wait, Midoriya—”

“What ?”

Izuku regrets the moment he hisses, but he’s so tired.

“Just…” his classmate hesitates. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Todoroki’s tone has… softened.

Izuku doesn’t turn around.

“… Good night, Todoroki-kun.”

The days go by like usual. It’s like nothing happened. No one has found out, or so he hopes.

Todoroki hasn’t talked to him since that night. Or well, Izuku tries to avoid looking at him for too long in the first place. They have lunch together with the rest, but there’s no direct contact at all.

Todoroki isn’t the kind of person you can make excuses. He reads into your tone, he knows something is wrong. While Izuku’s relationship with him has definitely improved since the Sports Festival and Stain, he still finds that aspect of him a little intimidating. Because Todoroki, in contrast, is hard to read most of the time.

Izuku might as well be avoiding him. Of course, he’s polite when Todoroki has a question or when he asks for a favor. Though he rejects the suggestion they train together in the next day. Mostly, because Izuku’s wounds still sting, and he refuses to go to the infirmary.

At last, Izuku finds himself going to the old gymnasium, with no intention to seethe like before, even if the urge screams in his brain. It looks… the same, on the outside. As for the inside…

Instead of the gray smoke and destroyed reds, Izuku stops as soon as he catches white strands connected to wine, fire red. A fire that doesn’t explode, but fire, nonetheless.

Izuku’s veins fill with One for All, and before he goes Full Cowling to get as far away as possible, he’s less than lucky to expose himself.

“Midoriya?”

Nononononono—

Even though Todoroki isn’t using his Quirk, Izuku feels like he’s frozen by his giant ice spikes, caught to explain himself.

Why on earth is Todoroki here? Does he also know this spot? Oh, of course. Todoroki often trains alone but Izuku never knew where. Oh my god.

There are no words shared or spoken, least of all whispered. Izuku can’t bring himself to look up. There’s only shame to be shared. No one was supposed to find out and yet he just revealed himself. Stupid. Idiot!

A step.

“Midoriya…”

Izuku shakes his head.

“I know what you’re going to say.”

Todoroki stops. “What?”

“… that I’m supposed to be a hero, right? That I shouldn’t have done this? I- I know I shouldn’t have.” Izuku clenches his jaw and his fists, to contain the trembling rage. “I shouldn’t be angry.”

The fallen punching bags stare.

“But I didn’t know what to do with this anger. It only kept growing and- and it keeps growing inside of me, these thoughts, this scream in my throat,” Izuku spits out without much thought. “I’ve been hurt my entire life and I hate- I hate hurting people back, I hate wanting to hurt them, but I hate them, too, I hate-!” For a moment, he bites back the poisonous name, yet he can’t take it anymore, he’s tired of being silenced by the explosions.

“… I hate Kacchan. I hate that he always explodes me in the face, I hate that he used to go after other kids, too. He always explodes and hurts people, and he doesn’t give a shit.” Izuku’s tone is wet, soaked with weight. “He doesn’t give a shit about me, he still hurts me no matter what I do, and I’m sick of it. And god, all I want is to punch his fucking face and scream, because he never cared about making me cry or burning me at all, he- he doesn’t care! And I don’t know why I still do, why I even try to communicate with him! Nothing I do is enough for him!”

Izuku observes the multiple layers of old wood under his feet, each second finding new details, new splinters.

“This is why I don’t explode. Why I never burst out. I-I don’t want to hurt anyone… but I’m still so angry, Todoroki-kun. I’m only feeling worse than before.” The freckled teen pathetically dries his drowned face. “It’s like nothing is ever going to get better.”

The temperature is a bitter cold, despite the sun outside.

Izuku cries like that boy he’d known in Middle School, the one that would weep to himself in the shadows after getting burned on the face.

“W-What should I do?” He asks to no one.

It’s, again, a question without an answer.

Except…

His arms are taken by two hands that slowly pull up his sleeves, revealing the wounds from the hazard. The hands brush against his blistered skin as gently as possible. One hot, the other cold, but equally mindful.

“I think…” Todoroki whispers, “you need someone.”

Izuku’s face is close to the piercing gray and blue eyes, the ones who always read him… but not in judgment, he realizes. They read each sentence, each word of himself and take it to their heart, hopefully to come up with a meaningful response.

“Because then… who will protect you from the explosion?” Todoroki questions, his right hand reaching Izuku’s left.

The question is one he’s never considered. Izuku makes sure no one gets hurt, and maybe he’s successful at that, yet…

Todoroki’s face is close enough for their heads to touch, some of his red and white bangs touching Izuku’s forehead.

“It’s okay to be angry, Midoriya.”

“You’re… not mad at me?”

“Why would I be?”

“I don’t know,” Izuku gulps, “I feel… disgusting.”

“I understand. But you’re not disgusting. You were hurt.”

Izuku’s mouth quivers. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

Todoroki’s hands move from his arms to his shoulders, pulling him forward. Izuku shivers.

He’s…

Todoroki has never hugged him before.

Sure, they’ve gotten so far as friends. But after all this time, they’ve never touched each other; least of all Todoroki, who is, reasonably, a more reserved person.

The hug is far from awkward, nonetheless. It’s… good. Izuku has never been hugged like this. Even with the crime scene of his anger right there for Todoroki and everyone else to see… the red-and-white-haired boy chooses to hold him.

(After all, he’s also a boy. A boy afraid of his thoughts. Afraid while no one knows.)

Izuku returns the contact, his face somewhat under Todoroki’s chin.

“I’m sorry Bakugo is a piece of shit.” He adds quietly, “Well, more than he already is.”

That manages to attract a miserable laugh.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

Izuku hums, not up to protest as he melts in his touch. He could never have imagined Todoroki to be this… comfortable.

The permanent smell of smoke and dust does eventually bother him, so Izuku suggests, “Want to get out of here?”

“Sure.”

And they leave the gymnasium behind, hopefully their secret will be left alone.

Todoroki takes Izuku to a tree, the leaves green like the latter’s hair. There’s enough of a shadow to cover them from the sun, from the burning flames far away. Todoroki helps a little with the burns, his ice the most soothing Izuku has felt.

Until the sun sets, their hands are intertwined, scars only they know.

#tododeku #midoriya izuku #todoroki shoto #todoroki shouto #anti bakugou #fanfiction #my hero academia #lotus writes #abuse tw #bullying tw #vent fic

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bleedinglovehes · 4 years

Text

liam payne sucks tbh

This compilation is for my dear friend, who goaded me into making a comprehensive list of every time Liam Payne has been openly homophobic in the past ten years, with a couple of bonuses at the end! Because he has been. A lot. He’s displayed his privilege and offended LGBTQ+ people on multiple occasions and shows no signs of even attempting to educate himself or empathize with those his words have hurt. On that note, let us begin this journey.

Let’s start with the obvious, shall we? The infamous Duck Dynasty's Family Values tweet. Anyone who’s been in the One Direction fandom should be able to easily recall the incident, but I’ll break it down for you. On January 18th Liam tweeted about how he loved the “family values” on Duck Dynasty. By that time, it was know that the family was openly homophobic. Just one month prior, in December 2013, the families patriarch (Phil Robertson) was suspended from the show following homophobic remarks that received backlash. (He compared homosexuality to beastiality).Liam immediately received backlash for the tweet, for good reason, so later that day he took to twitter to claim that “Being a fan of someones show and the way they still hold a family together doesn't mean i am ok with all they say”. (https://twitter.com/LiamPayne/status/424679109634314240) That was his “apology”. Now, Liam’s association with the Robertson’s did not end there. 8 months later he posted a happy birthday message from Willie Robertson (Phil’s son) on his instagram. Though his interacting with the Robertsons had upset many LGBT+ people, Liam continued to openly support the family.The very next month he, and close friend Andy Samuels (pay attention to that name, we’ll reference it later) went shooting in Louisiana with the family. Andy and Willie Robertson’s sister in law both posted about the event at the time, but the posts have since been deleted.

Now if you were one of the delusional people still convinced of Liam’s membership in the LGBT+ community, you may find lot’s of faults in my logic. Him supporting a family sticking together doesn’t mean he shares their homophobic values, and you’re right, to an extent. But a queer person would not be so careless. Liam is displaying his privilege as a straight white man by ignoring the disgusting homophobia displayed by the patriarch, and likely shared by his sons and grandchildren. So, with that incident we have, at the very least, hopefully shown the audience Liam’s blatant ignorance when it comes to the LGBT community.

Let’s continue. 2014 was the start of a startling trend of tasteless comments Mr. I-Used-To-Be-In-1D-Now-I’m-Free has made in relation to the community. In August of 2015, Liam said that Girl Almighty (a One Direction song he wrote on) is about "trying to find that number one woman of your life” which would have been fine, except he went on to say that “none of [the fans] can relate to, because most of you are girls. Except for the boys in here, you know what I'm talking about." Almost immediately, his remarks were under fire for being too heteronormative, and he was accused of being homophobic. Instead of using the incident as a learning experience, Liam took to twitter to first clarify he is “in no way shape or form homophobic that's a ridicules thing to say and I'm not here to offend people so take it as you will”. Essentially, rather than apologize to every LGBT girl at the show, he decided to say since he’s not homophobic the comments weren’t offensive. He went on in another tweet and called the statement that deeply offended his non straight female fans “throwaway”. All I can gather from his little twitter tirade is that Liam was upset that his “throwaway” comment hurt LGBT people and that those people would not let it go. He finished by tweeting “crap end to a good day”, blaming the backlash rather than his own ignorant comment. All of the tweets are still on twitter and a quick search will bring them up for you.

2015 was a big year for Liam in terms of casual homophobia, and just one month after the Girl Almighty Incident, he was back at it again with… The Pride Flag Incident. Now, to provide some background, pride flags started making appearances at the shows in large numbers thanks to The Rainbow Project. The project was started to promote a safe space for LGBTQ+ fans. It garnered a lot of attention and the starters of the project clarified several times that it had nothing to do with the infamous “Larry” ship, which I will not discuss as frankly it’s not relevant to my main point. So a month before the Pride Flag Incident The Rainbow Project was getting attention from the media. Anyone who took two seconds to research the project and motivation behind it would know that it was only to support queer fans.

Okay but seriously, the Pride Flag Incident was a big deal. Let me explain. In the summer of 2015, gay marriage was legalized in the US. LGBTQ Americans were absolutely thrilled, for good reason, and pride flags were seen in abundance. So here’s what happened. Liam was interviewed by Attitude, a UK gay magazine. Now he started off alright, claiming that he found it, “funny that being gay is still something that’s talked about as though it’s not natural”. The use of the term “funny” is… troublesome for me, but that’s not the issue with the article. It’s his next statements that, once again, show his ignorance. He talked about there being an increase in rainbow flags at One Direction shows following the legalization of gay marriage. He made the correct point and he should've stopped there. Unfortunately, he continued, saying “I think that was mainly because people think of the Louis and Harry thing, which is absolutely nuts and drives me insane.” Once again he ignored the huge queer fanbase One Direction had amassed at that point and was subject to backlash. He, once again, took to twitter and, once again, stood by his ignorant comments rather than make a real apology. I won’t bring up Harry. I won’t bring up Harry. I won’t bring up Harry. I won’t bring up Harry… ok fine I have to. Harry actually waved a pride flag at the next concert they had. AKA, the one right after Liam’s comments were made public. Harry was, according to Liam, one of the people being disrespected by the pride flags.

I’m sensing a trend here. Liam makes an ignorant comment that offends people, Liam goes on twitter and stands by the ignorant comments, Liam claims people offended are in the wrong. Moving on, I'm honestly not sure what Liam did in 2016. I think that’s when Strip That Down was released. Anyways he only offended…. every one direction stan with that.

2017 though, that one was big. That’s when Liam made The Clothing Comments. So in May he was on the radio, probably promoting something, and was asked which members of One Direction he would let watch his child. He said that he’d pick Louis, because he’s a dad, and that neither Harry nor Niall made the cut. The issue? His reasoning behind why Harry wasn’t a suitable babysitter was that, “I couldn’t rely on Harry because I feel that my child would come out dressed in something that I just wouldn’t understand”. Yet. Another. Ignorant. Comment. Harry had, beginning in 2014 and continuing to 2020, been dressing in a non traditionally masculine way. 2014 had him sporting pussy bow blouses while 2020 has gifted us with a lace jumpsuit equipped with matching lace gloves. Now, therein lays the issue with his comment. Harry doesn’t dress in a traditionally masculine way. That was apparent in 2017. That’s what Liam had an issue with. Also, Liam has been making comments about Harry’s fashion sense on a semi consistent basis since that article dropped so… yea.

2018’s… incident… is almost funny to me because once again Liam display’s absolute ignorance when it comes to the LGBT community. It began with Liam taking place in Adidas’s Prouder campaign in June. It was sponsored by a bunch of celebrities and an article was released where each gave a quote about what makes them proud, obviously in relation to Pride. When Liam was asked the question he answered “I think since I’ve had a little boy, everything changes in life. ‘I’m aiming more for him to be prouder of me, and already he’s making me a better man, which I think is incredible.’” He did not reference the community he was supposedly supporting. He received immense backlash for his “straight pride” comments on twitter and gay news outlet Pink News.All in all it was just insensitive. He was dragged on twitter for not knowing the meaning of pride and the movement he was supporting.That’s not where the incident ended though. On July 7th London hosted the annual Pride Parade, that I’ve heard Liam promised to attend. I do not have receipts for this, so my next point may seem a little weak at first, but stay with me. Instead of attending the event, Liam attended a Dolce and Gabbana fashion show. Why might that be an issue? Well, since 2015, the fashion label has been called homophobic after two directors made insensitive comments about same sex parenting. So, if you don’t believe he promised to attend the show, the fact that he attended a show for a homophobic brand should upset you.In fact, Liam has shown no indication of distancing from the brand. In contrast, Harry has only been seen wearing Dolce and Gabbana once since the comments were made. (Performing on the Jimmy Kimmel show in Nov. 2015). Liam has worn D&G several times in the years since the comments were made.

2019 was a bad year for Liam, and not just because he took Zayn, Harry, and Niall’s number ones and slapped them together to debut at #111 on the Billboard Hot 100. In July he was paid by the Saudi Regime to perform in Saudi Arabia. The issue? In Saudi Arabia being gay is a crime and women’s rights activists are jailed. Nicki Minaj was also set to perform at the festival but backed out due to the Saudi Regime’s blatant homophobia and sexism. Once again he displayed his ignorance and privilege. He’s not queer, he’s not a woman. So he accepted the money and performed. Now I know he had fans there excited to see him, but he made the wrong choice. He should’ve backed out and not accepted any money from the Saudi Regime. July was just not a good month for Liam.So he was asked whether or not he planned to vote in the election. His response? “I think I will vote but I am always out of the country. We need a mobile app where we can vote with our thumbprint or something. I mean, in regards to Boris or Jeremy, I don’t think we give people enough time. Same with West Brom football club. They always change their manager every week it seems and we never get time to gel with anybody.” He’s just so ignorant. As a rich white straight man, the election had no effect on him. He seemed to indicate a preference for Boris Johnson, a racist sexist homophobe. December was by far his worst though. So his debut album, LP1, dropped at the beginning of the month. Immediately, Liam was attacked for his fetishization of bisexual woman, seen in the song “Both Ways”. It’s just disgusting, and made worse by his history with the LGBTQ community. A straight man singing about how hot it is that his girlfriend likes girls is just… so bad. That whole incident speaks for itself in my opinion. That brings us to the reappearance of his comments about Harry’s clothing. He claimed that “I couldn’t put myself in that. I’d look fucking… It’d look weird.” Now, has anyone seen what Liam has worn over the years? Liam’s issue is that the Met Gala look was feminine. He’s claimed to be the antichrist version of Harry, and you know what? I see it. He’s a straight man uncomfortable with men wearing feminine clothing and gay people in general. Harry is a queer man who thrives in feminine styled or women’s clothing. They really are opposites.

So what have I established? A pattern of ignorance that have hurt LGBT people on multiple occasions. Now, ignorance does not equate homophobia, so here’s how we know. Remember his friend Andy Samuels? Well he’s been openly homophobic (and sexist) on his social media. He’s been friends with Liam for over a decade. Remember when Harry made his iconic “not that important” comment? Liam’s reaction is… troublesome. He does a short laugh, and then glances off camera with an uncomfortable look on his face. Take from that what you will. There are UNCONFIRMED rumors of Liam using homophobic language backstage at One Direction concerts. Like with his reaction to Harry’s “not that important'' comment, there is no proof, but, based on his other actions, I am inclined to believe it happened. So there you have it. Liam’s history of ignorance. Homophobia is defined as a “dislike of or prejudice against homosexual people”. I think it’s safe to say that applies to Liam. He’s uncomfortable with feminine styled men, supports homophobes (The Duck Dynasty family, Dolce and Gabbana, Boris Johnson), and makes ignorant comments that are extremely offensive to LGBTQ people. He may not go around screaming slurs, but he is homophobic. He’s the type of homophobic person who claims not to be because he knows a gay person. Who claims the pattern of ignorance is simply the fault of the one getting offended. That’s who Liam Payne is. Look, you don’t have to agree that he’s homophobic, but you have to agree that he’s ignorant and refuses to get educated. And you have to admit that there is no way he’s LGBT. There is no way anyone could orchestrate a smear campaign that relied on so many casually ignorant statements and incidences.

This post was not my fault. Really. It’s wasn’t. It’s actually my friend’s fault. She told me that there were people on tumblr who actually believe Liam Payne is LGBTQ+. Shocking, I know. She also said that some people were comparing the experiences of Liam, a straight man, to Harry, his queer former bandmate. Which, no? And because I am so sure people will deny everything I have presented, a link to a google doc with links to each article and tweet I referenced has been included. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1i2lWQPr0oQeA_MYLdkmp6G19waj9KSYaQgcBek8O2OE/edit?usp=sharing

#liam payne #lp1 #both ways #one direction #homophobia #maya henry #harry styles #louis tomilson #niall horan #zayn malik

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wakaoujisenhime · 4 years

Note

Hi! Can I ask scenario about Rakuzan manager? Rakuzan (and Akashi) female fans attacked her, but Rakuzan team protect her.

A/N: I’m writing this while imagining Rakuzan’s fans to be those typical hardcore ones you sometimes see on SNS, and oh boy... (☉_☉) Also, I hope you don’t mind that I changed the concept of attacking the manager a little bit and made it go into the direction of bullying. 👀 Now, I know that Mayuzumi isn’t really visible in the image below, but this was the only one I found that fit the description of them looking intimidating, so sorry for that (っ◞‸◟c) hope you enjoy it nonetheless! ♡

Tags: Rakuzan x reader ✅ SFW ✅ friendship/camaraderie ✅ slight fluff ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

A capable manager - Rakuzan x reader

Being Rakuzan’s manager wasn’t an easy task. Not only were you burdened with the team’s immense success and reputation, but also with five problematic personalities who also happened to be the club’s representatives.

It took you quite some time and effort to get to know them, and have them trust you enough with their personal training regimen, let alone their private affairs and problems. However, you still managed to overcome all these difficulties and became quite close with the five young basketball players. The more you interacted with them, the more you realized just how helpful and pleasant their company actually was, especially Akashi’s.

He was quite notorious for his perfectionism and for the way he treated his teammates. In the beginning, you were also treated as one of his minions. Still, after you spoke up about how he might lose the entire team if he continued behaving like that, Akashi luckily listened to you and decided to pick a new approach. You expected him to change himself, but instead, he went ahead and recruited people who were actually able to keep up with his antics. It frustrated you a little to see just how incorrigible he was, but the fact that the captain was sticking to his ideals impressed you quite a bit.

The team respected you very much. You had joined them the moment you enrolled in Rakuzan high and always made sure to give it your all, no matter what. Naturally, you made the members and their wellbeing your first priority, so whenever someone decided to disrupt the harmony of the team, you were always the one to protect and upkeep it. This was one amongst many other reasons the club members adored and looked up to you. It was really fortunate that you had earned such a status, it made many tasks less difficult to fulfill since you knew these boys on a personal level, but not every problem was that easily overcome.

Rakuzan’s fans were one example.

They would always cheer while the entire squad entered the gym and went to the benches to discuss the plan for the game, but you couldn’t help and overhear some comments that were addressed to you.

Is that their manager?

Yeah supposedly...

What the hell, she doesn’t even look like she knows what this sport is about!

Totally! Just look at her!

You’d try and ignore them as good as you could, but the fact that your back was literally facing the stands didn’t help out at all.

“(Y/N)-chan, is everything alright?“

Reo always had a knack of noticing when something was bothering you, and he’d always make sure to ask you about it so that he could figure out a way to help you out somehow. You appreciated the gesture, of course, but what you wanted to avoid the most right now was distracting them from the upcoming match, so you brushed it off, put on your typical fake smile, and nodded firmly.

“Yes, no problems here!”

Luckily he knew that one of the things you hated most was when people pestered you about something you didn’t want to talk about, there were times when you welcomed it, but now wasn’t one of them. Pushing your slightly hurt feelings aside, you gave the five players a quick rundown on their enemies’ playstyle and preferred modus operandi.

While they were out there scoring one point after the other, your concentration was disturbed multiple times by the permanent gossiping of the fans, who had now moved on to questioning your strategic abilities, claiming that some of the boys weren’t in their top form today and who was to blame for this? You, of course. In an attempt to block their constant chatter out, you closed your eyes for a moment. The coach, who noticed your short moment of frustration, asked you the same question as your black-haired friend, and the moment you opened your mouth to answer with the exact same words as before, something light hit your shoulderblade, startling the both of you in the process.

“Oops, sorry, my friend pushed me, I didn’t mean to throw that at you!“

Another forced smile and a slight shake of your head were your answer to the obviously fake-sounding ‘apology’ you’d just received. With a disappointed and slightly annoyed face, Shirogane picked the paper ball up from the ground and looked at it with disgust.

“(Y/N)...maybe we shoul-“

“It’s ok coach, I’m fine so please don’t mind this.“, you said as you bit your lower lip in frustration, “Let us continue observing the match...and please don’t mention this to the others...them not playing at their full concentration because of something as trivial as this, is the last thing I want right now.“

His dark eyes rested on you for a short while, but he soon averted them and continued watching the young men play. So did you, but what just happened still lingered in your mind.

It was quite frustrating to see that some people let their jealousy distort them to such an extent that they would start harassing you just because of your position, gender, or whatever other reason they might have. All they saw was the way you entered the gym alongside the boys, talked to them, gave them drinks and towels, and that’s when they start to think that this is all you do. You were quite disheartened that people with such limited views on things were supposed to represent your clubs’ fanbase, but that’s just how things were.

While you were lost in your thoughts, your teammates were out on the field completely dominating the game (as always), but some of them had noticed what went down a short while ago, and they didn’t like that at all.

The halftime whistle is what brought you back to reality. Typically, it was you who provided the players with drinks and towels, but this time the coach had assigned this minor task to one of the underclassmen. He thought that he might help you out with it, but he only made all of it worse.

Oh my god, do you see that?

She calls herself the manager, but can’t even do her tasks right.

Pathetic, ‘ain it?

Just as you were about to sit up and speak your mind, someone placed a towel on top of your head and patted it. You didn’t feel the need to look up, since such a massive palm could’ve only belonged to one particular player. Instead, you just looked at the ones that had surrounded you.

“Alright then, what’s your next brilliant plan manager?“ asked Kotaro with his typically loud voice.

The others joined him and began talking about different and pretty much trivial stuff they usually avoided, making it plainly evident that their main objective was to distract you from the spiteful comments of the spectators.

You had to admit that the kind words they occasionally mixed in were indeed making you feel better, and after a while, you had succeeded in forgetting about it for the time being...you had a team to manage after all.

After a short while, the referee announced that the game would resume shortly and warned both teams to wrap the talk up. With an encouraging smile, you motivated each of them to keep up the marvelous play, have fun but also be cautious of possible tricks from the opponents. When Akashi’s turn came up, you simply smiled at him, unsure whether to try your luck with motivating this seemingly invincible player or not, but before that happened, he spoke up first.

“(Y/N) I know what happened.”

His statement threw you off quite a bit, but there was no time for you to question its meaning since the time to get back on the field drew near.

“I know it’s frustrating and painful to hear something like that, but you shouldn’t mind such useless comments from commoners like them. You should ask yourself on which basis they are actually making all of these assumptions about you. Do they know how much effort you’re actually putting into our team? Have they seen just how late you always stay behind just to make sure that everyone leaves? Are they aware of the amount of knowledge you needed to obtain before you could even give us tips on how to play? The answer is always no, so make sure to keep that in mind.”

“Sei-chan, it’s time.“, whispered Reo as he gently caressed your back, flashed you a quick smile, and entered the court. Said man barely nodded and placed his own slender hand reassuringly on your left shoulder.

“You’re doing a perfect job as manager (Y/N)...thank you.“

And with that, he left you standing there, blushing lightly at his sudden and unexpected compliment. Hearing something so reassuring as that coming from such a capable person like Akashi puts you instantly at ease.

H-He’s right...what am I even doing at a time like this? Doubting myself while my team’s out, there is really not suitable for my title.

Alright (Y/N)! Get yourself together and watch them play, that’s the least you could do at the moment.

While you were hyping yourself up, you failed to notice a peculiar group amongst the other spectators that were looking at you with malicious intent...

——

After the game finished, you congratulated your five boys for the expected victory and promised to wait for them at the main entrance, so that you could invite them to a small celebratory meal.

You checked your phone for any possible missed calls or messages when suddenly someone slapped it away from your hand.

“What the hell w-“

“Shut up, you damn witch!“

As you looked at the group of girls standing in front of you, you frowned, wondering just who they actually were and what kind of problem they had with you that they needed to throw insults at you as well as damage one of your most valuable possessions. Upon closer look, you noticed that they wore some kind of fanmade shirts which had Akashi’s face plastered all over them.

So these are his fangirls..?

One of them stepped up to you and grabbed your jersey’s collar, almost scratching your neck with her absurdly long fake nails.

“We are very busy women, so make sure to listen up, missy?”

You scoffed and tried to pull her hand away from you as quickly as you could, and when you finally succeeded, you proceeded to pick your phone up from the ground.

“Hey, are you even listening?“ asked another one whose entire face resembled that of a clown, that’s how much makeup she had randomly put on.

You stifled your laugh before answering: “No, I’m not really listening to you, since you appear to have quite enough time to come out and trash-talk me, despite being so busy, as you claim.“

The smug grin that adorned your face wasn’t well-received by them, and just as they opened their mouth again, a familiar calm voice called out your name, stopping them in their tracks.

A tall, grey-haired young man approached the group and stood there with his hands in his jacket’s pocket, his eyes entirely focused on you alone, completely disregarding the others.

“So, that’s where you were (Y/N)!”

“We’ve been looking for you manager!“

Two arms wrapped around your shoulder from each side, and as you looked up to see who the owners were, you couldn’t help but smile.

Kotaro and Nebuya...

“W-What is Sir Akashi’s team doing here?“

“I-I don’t know..“

“Weren’t t-they supposed to be at the aftermatch meeting?“

As if on cue, Reo joined Mayuzumi and flicked his hair back dramatically.

“Oh, sweetie...it seems like you not only have no clue on how to properly put your makeup on, but also have no idea of what we’re doing.”

She was about to retort something, but a certain man’s voice stopped her.

“The manager is an essential part of these meetings.“

You turned your head and saw your team’s captain picking your phone up from the ground. Both arms that rested on your shoulders released you so that Akashi could take the item, the captain was about to hand to you, back. He gave you a warm smile that instantly darkened, the moment he looked at the women who had now been surrounded by his entire basketball team. His eyes looked at each and every single one of them, and he quickly caught up that they were his fans.

Well...isn’t that convenient.

With a firm nod of his head, he signalized the other four to leave; you, on the other hand, stayed behind. If there was something you knew about this young man, then the fact that he’d always speak to you if he needed something.

“S-Sir Akashi! It’s such an honor to personally meet you!“

“We’ve been your fans for so long an-“

“Silence.“ he hissed. That cold demeanor was something his ‘fans’ had no idea existed, but you as the manager had known about it since day one. He took another look at all of them and sighed.

“Listen up. I don’t care if you are my fans or not, I couldn’t care less that you’re cheering me on or if you’re working multiple jobs so that you can afford tickets for all of my games. I have no need for such useless gestures...what I need is results: clear, flawless, and indisputable results. People like you cannot give me that, but this woman right here..“ he took a short break to point at you “..she can, and she does. If you have any problem with the fact that she has earned this position by hard work, pure dedication, and conviction, then that means that you also have a problem with Rakuzan’s success so far. How else do you think are we able to be that victorious? Don’t tell me you thought that it all depended on talent?“

All of them just cluelessly looked at each other, trying to figure the answer out, but before they could even begin thinking about it, Akashi just continued with his speech.

“There is indeed a part of basketball where you just have to rely on talent alone, but it’s mostly strategy and the team’s combined power. And how do you think are we able to achieve that without a capable manager like her?“

They were left completely speechless, and without even waiting for their answer, the young man just gently took you by the wrist and began walking away. You couldn’t deny the fact that your situation was very much the same as theirs, you were confused yet impressed by the way he had stood up for you, he even went as far as to insult his own fans. The happiness you felt at that moment was a little inappropriate, but considering the hassling you went through today, it was a good payback.

And like that, the two of you joined the other four and began walking toward the restaurant, where you promised to celebrate their victory at today’s match.

#knb scenarios #knb imagines #knb x reader #rakuzan x reader #knb fluff #━𝙺𝙽𝙱 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

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innovativestruggles · 3 years

Note

Hey! Tsukiyachi stan here 🥳 *waves* In your opinion what do you honestly think Yachi feels about Tsuki?

Heya lovely! 🌸

The answer is: she madly in love with him

Good question! Considering my massive TsukiYachi speculation post never went into detail about Yachi's feelings (and the fact that the post is more about proving to readers/viewers that TsukiYachi is not a crack ship and that there is more going on behind the scenes with these two - platonically - than meets the eye).

I'll explain a few things first before I get to your question. The post will be a bit long because your question prompted some ideas I want to add.

Because Haikyuu isn't a romance genre, it can be difficult to draw concrete conclusions. There aren't a lot of scenes that emphasises the relationship between characters outside friendship. Aside from the obvious, that is, Tanaka and Nishinoya's overt crush on Kiyoko,

If a shounen genre with an emphasis on sports want to have elements of a romantic tease between characters, the author would need to add these details in other ways. Hence, if you read my TsukiYachi speculation post, it would make a lot more sense. And this is what I love about manga/anime that don't specifically focus on romance but have teasing aspects to it. It makes all the reading/watching that much more exciting.

Some people think there are components of unconscious bias to it - that is, if you like something you will naturally look for it to confirm/validate your opinions. There are elements of truth in this, however, people who like a ship aren't always seeing things. If they can provide concrete evidence to support their claims, then chances are, they are definitely not solely influenced by their own unconscious bias.

How do I know this? Experience I guess. From reading a lot of manga and following what the authors have confirmed. There have been covert ships I have read (mind you, I don't ship some of these covert ships) where people put forward some pretty compelling evidence, and then the author actually confirm that they have put all these little tiny hints throughout (i.e. in manga, promotional materials, approval of CD dramas, approval of certain spin-offs, approval of anime only content) that could easily be missed. So for these people who ship covert ships, it's not all in their heads and it's not always unconscious bias.

So back to Yachi's feelings. Given the above explanation and the emphasis between Tsukki and Yachi's relationship (as evident in my TsukiYachi post), we can deduce Yachi's feelings:

I honestly don't believe she has romantic feelings for Tsukki. However, in saying that, that does not mean she has no admiration for him. It is much more noticeable in the manga, but the way she talks about him to Akiteru and her general knowledge of him COMPARATIVELY to every other person on the team, is slightly different. I explained it in my speculation post. There are probably many reasons why she could feel this way about Tsukki, but if I had to make some sort of guess, I believe it's probably because of Tsukki's standoffish and almost intimidating like behaviour. The latter manifests in the form of his snarky comments toward others. Plus, Tsukki doesn't show a lot of emotions (Yachi blatantly said this in the letter to her mother) so it adds that extra aspect of enigma to him. And Yachi being an overly anxious person, she most likely finds Tsukki that extra difficult to discern, so perhaps she made it her mission to observe him more. Obviously the more you pay attention to someone, or the more focused you are on them, the more attached you become. And I am not saying this is what happened with Yachi towards Tsukki, however, it does provide an element of explanation around why she knows Tsukki's state of mind so well, and why she has not commented about other Karasuno players to the same extent. Either that, or Furudate wants to make sure there is a lot more to Yachi and Tsukki than viewers can see. Both scenarios would end up at the same conclusion - Yachi has some element of admiration for Tsukki.

So I think for a girl like Yachi, if there is a guy who is very different from the group, kinda scary (personality and in height!), shows no emotions (positive or negative), has a reputation for being an asshole to everyone (but for some reason never to her), is smart and is popular with girls, I think there would definitely be some admiration and nervousness towards him.

Of course there seems to be progress in their relationship after the timeskip, so I'm guessing over the years, the two have become closer. We still don't know what their relationship is truly like after the timeskip because Yachi acted almost the same (albeit a tad more assertive) towards Tsukki.

I can see the two of them remaining good friends and I can also see them dating. But you know, Furudate seems to like these two together because there's been a lot of recent materials released where they have been next to each other a lot so ... 🤷🏻‍♀️ Never underestimate the power of promo materials!

Hope I got my thoughts through to you! Thank you so much for the ask! 💞

#LONG POST!#i legit used your question to expand on some things I hope you don't mind #because it would be hard to justify my answer without explaining some stuff first #hope it makes sense #and seriously i'm always happy to write about tsukiyachi #i've got a lot more stuff in mind but only if people wanna hear it haha #if you give me prompts those ideas and speculations just pop up #tsukiyachi #tsukishima kei #yachi hitoka #haikyuu #ask

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argumentl · 3 years

Text

The Freedom of Expression Ep 20 - 'Corona Cafe' facing internet slander.

K: This is Dir en grey's Kaoru, starting this week's installment of The Freedom of Expression. Joe san, Tasai san, welcome to this week's episode. Soo, hows it going? Well, I say that, but who ever is watching this will know that we are recording three at once.

J: Yeah, they will.

T: Oh, but aren't Hanshin doing great, Kaoru?!

K:......Oh! Yeh yeh yeh!

T: They won 10 times unopposed! (*sarcastic prediction*)

K: Yeah, yeah.

J: There's a possibility this will become fake news!

K, T: Hahahaha

J: If it does we're in trouble!

T: Can you believe they turned around a ten point difference?!

K: Ahh, thats just like them. It looks like there's a chance of this event happening.

J: The possibility is rising, right? (*This exchange is dripping with sarcasm*)

*On screen note - 'As of July 2nd, Hanshin have won 2 games, and lost 10'.*

K: Is it really? Will they really be ok?

T: Yeah, I wonder.

J: Well, its important to fantasize sometimes.

T: Yeah

J: 10 consecutive wins...

T: 10 consecutive wins.

J: Its like, 'Could it be?'..In a Tokyo Sports kind of way.

T: Yeah, like with a question mark, 'Could it be?!'.

K: Well, I think I'll be buying it every day. Tokyo Sports.

J: Oh, Tokyo Sports right? But doesn't Tokyo Sports support the Giants the most? In Tokyo area?

T: Well, we support the Giants and Hanshin.

J: Ah, the Giants and Hanshin?

T: Well, what with these ten consecutive wins, Kaoru will be pretty pleased with himself.

J: Yeh, he'll be beaming. And then an event for everyone.

K: Haha

T: Yep. And if we sang Rokkou oroshi (Hanshin Tigers theme song) at the end..

K: It would be great if we sing that, right?

J: Hahaha. We can do it!

T: We can!

J: Everyone, lets support Hanshin this year.

K: Ok, well..for the topic this week, Joe san, if you will..

J: Ah, may I? This is the news of 'Corona Cafe' suffering online abuse. This cafe, located in Nagano prefecture, Saku city, is lovingly nicknamed 'Corona san' by local residents. Since the increase of covid 19 infections in March, this cafe has been suffering from harassment, such as prank calls, and an increase in heartless comments posted online. Third generation owner Sudo Hitoshi san (age 42) said, 'Covid 19 has no relation at all to the name of this cafe. All we can do is endure it'.

Well, the name sounds similar, but also the beer, Corona, has been unable to sell. I wonder if they have stopped production, I'm not sure what they'll do. But in this case, there are comments online...why would you comment online??

T: Right.

J: What are these people thinking? This cafe obviously has nothing to do with covid 19. Moreover, the people writing this have certainly never been to this cafe, right?

K: Well, yeah. It seems like that.

J: Im certain of it. But still, this problem of so-called online slandering is..

T: Its getting big, right?

J: Yes, its getting big, unfortunately. There is now the idea of changing the law in regards to this..

K: Yeh, but I have a feeling its not gonna go away. In the end, you don't know...well, actually you do know, right?....but even if there were cases of people being caught, I have a feeling that wouldn't change anything, honesty.

T: Hm, yeah.

J: If you look..you see people slandering in all sorts of places, but the ones who are writing this are people who are either really malicious, or people who just think its ok to repeat what the malicious people write, but who are not really that malicious themselves. Its very difficult. Real bad guys, who are intent on crushing, and people who are not intending that at all. But people are just typing away, it gains momentum, and some people are influenced by it. I mean, we mustn't forgive online slandering, but its very.....Well, like you said Kaoru, people aren't really thinking of any consequences when they write this stuff, so making up rules and expecting people to change is...

K: Yeh, in this sense too...like, there are people who are just writing their opinions, aren't there?

J: Yeh, yeh, yeh.....so its like, that could even end up having consequences in the future. Its a very complex thing.

K: Yeh, I feel like this is hard.

J: There is the idea of banning anonymity on SNS and only allowing real names, but its only due to anonymity that people suffering from bullying or discrimination are able to speak out, if they were forced to use their real name, they might be too afraid to say anything, and there is also the possibility of accusations..so, its like, where do you draw the line? What do you count as a slander? For example, if you see 'That guy is meddling' as slander, you won't be able to make a good judgement based just on the text.

T: Hm, yeh.

J: Its really difficult, isn't it. Especially on SNS, like Twitter, the number of characters is limited, so you never really know whats going on.

T: You can't convey all the details, or the right nuance.

J: Yeh. Nuance is also very difficult to get across. If there are people suffering from this kind of thing, despite doing nothing wrong, well, I'm not talking about Corona cafe here...there is a need to think about some countermeasures. But at the same time, SNS are super useful, really handy...its so hard.

T: Do you remember those morality lessons in elementary school?

K: Mm

T: Online behavior or rules could be provided in those lessons.

K: Yeh.

T: About not writing things that you would never say to soneone's face.

J: Well, its very difficult to define 'slander', but you could say its being critical of someone else, moreover to do them harm. So in that respect, by definition, saying something like 'Stop it' is not slander. I think how you say it will also play a big part, but yeh, we want to stop this thing of trying to hurt people who have done nothing wrong, not broken the law, not disturbed anyone. But the difficulty arises when considering whether to implement rules, because it would depend on each situation as to whether on not slander is being used, it would be difficult to judge. However, well, i may be talking too much, but if you look at Japanese lawmakers at the moment, they are doing a lot of things, right? Like, trying to change the prosecutor general to one of thier own guys and such. This isn't classed as illegal to do, so thats why they do it. If the state is doing this type of thing, it creates an atmosphere on the whole that its ok to do something, as long as its not technically illegal.

T: Thats right.

J: Its like you said, Tasai, its not exactly morality lessons, but if you think about it rationally, even though its not written in law, if you think about the spirit in which the law exists, to allow people to live, you will realize this isn't something we should do. There are things that are not written in law that we really need to be applying the same level of scrutiny to. If people don't do that, simply because its not actually written in law, we will become unable to properly develop future laws .

T: Yeah

J: I feel like it just becomes a vicious circle.

T: If people can get away with it, they will do it, right?

Kami: Um, I want people to quit bragging about themselves.

K: In that case, what would they write about? Hahaha.

Kami: Its really hard to listen to it.

J: Ahh

T: Hm, yeah.

J: There must be people bragging around Kami? *laughs*

T: Right?

Kami: Its really tough. Like if they do it without realising, it damages the people around them. I want it to be made illegal. A ban on bragging.

J: A ban on bragging?!

K: Hahaha

T: Thats interesting.

J: Thats a new kind of rule..

Kami: I really want people to stop it.

K: *laughing* Well, you don't have to look at it.

Kami: But it inflicts damage, right? Bragging about delicious french food, or wine..its like, we can't have that. Even small stuff like that, don't you think, 'what is this guy doing??'

T: Hahaha

K: He's quite wound up about this, isn't he? Haha

J: He really is. I mean, conversely you could say that if they are doing nothing but brag to that extent, you should feel sorry for them?

T: Do you wanna get rid of Instagram from the world?

Kami: Yes, yes. I really do. If you brag, I mean...really, its really..

J: Hahaha.

K: He's saying really, really.

J: Ah, Kami, you are really taking off.

T: Havn't you ever bragged about anything in your whole life, Kami?

Kami: Not much, no. I havn't got anything to brag about.

J: But I don't want a god to say they don't have a lot to brag about! What kind of god is it who doesn't have anything to brag about? Thats the first question.

T: But bragging could also be less like some low-life saying 'I've got a million yen', but more something like, 'I love basketball and I shook Michael Jordan's hand', or that type of thing. Isn't that a bit different?

K: Ahh, if someone said they'd shaken hands with Michael Jordan, you'd think 'Wow, thats amazing!'

J: Yeah, right?

Kami: Yeah, you would.

K: He's saying 'yeah, you would'. Hahaha.

J: I bet you do brag then, Kami!

Kami: Low life bragging should be made illegal.

T: Ahh, low life bragging.

J: Defining low life is difficult!

T: Well, talking about money, and stuff?

J: Money is out...Money and food, right? Relying on the power of money is no good?

Kami: Yes, thats it.

T: So for example, if Kaoru bought a really famous, great guitar, how about that?

Kami: An expensive one?

K: Yes

T: Very expensive.

Kami: A really expensive one?

K: If I made a post bragging about it...

J: You'd make a post, yeah.

K: Im not sure if I've done that..

Kami: I would want to hear the sound of it.

J: *laughing*You'd want to hear the sound?!

Kami: If it had a good sound, I'd want you to let me hear it.

T: Ahh

Kami: I'd want to touch it.

K: Well, if its something that has more to it, it might be ok.

J: Oh right

Kami: Yeah

K: Like, if you just say 'I bought a nice car', it just ends there.

T: Ahh, but if you bought a guitar..

K: Like, if you say what does it sound like, will he let us hear it...there is more of a future to it.

Kami: Yes, yes, yes. If it made a good sound, that would be ok.

K: But the same goes for that french food. If you thought it looked nice, you might think about going to that restaurant yourself, so there is a future to that.

J: How about that?

Kami: No, it depends how its written.

J: How its written? *laughs*

K: Ah, he's back to feeling like that again.

J: He's lost that vigour he had at the end.

K: Hahaha. You know, people who are suffering from this ought to talk to Kami.

J: One time, right?

K: He would get straight to it.

T: He would.

J: Kami, don't you have an info@ address or something? For people to send in stuff.

Kami: No, I don't have anything like that.

T: I want to discuss everything with Kami.

K: I've a feeling he would be encouraged.

J: He'd get straight to the point, right? But if people are feeling gloomy, before they comment online, they could talk to Kami..

K: Should we make an appeal? People could share thier troubles or..

J: Discuss thier worries?

K: Yeh, and then get a straight answer from Kami.

J: A word from a god.

K: Shall we appeal for questions?

J: Yeh.

T: Ah, its a good idea.

J: We've come up with a new plan.

K: And, so people could send questions to my twitter...Oh, did we have any local chinese restaurants contacting us yet?...We didn't?

T: I wanna go to a chinese restaurant, soon.

J: Yeah, so do I. I wann go to Hosojimaya too. We might get questions for Kami though, people sharing thier worries. And one answer from him.

T: What do you think of this plan, Kami?

K: Lets do it.

Kami: Well, i might end up being to well behaved.

J: Oh really *laughs*

Kami: I'll *laughs*...I'll end up making myself seem like a good person. Like I might just stop being able to talk.

J: I'm getting this really strong image that you are smiling while saying that.

K: Hahaha.

J: Kami, you are nasty.

Kami: Quite..

T: Well, lets keep this tone for it.

J: Yeah. We could also do a live broadcast once. A live chat with Kami..

K, T: Ahh.

T: Yeah, with a live feeling.

K: He kinda got carried away on the last live broadcast, didn't he?

J: Definitely, haha. This time he'd have a specific role, discussing worries.

T: That sounds good.

J: Like ten quickfire questions.

T: Yeah.

J: And he would answer in quick succession.

T: Ahh, thats a good idea. Like, 'Next!'.

J: What do you think, Kami?

Kami: Oh, its not a big deal for me. Its no big deal for me so..

J: He said it twice, haha.

K: Hahaha. Well, its an interesting plan.

J: Well, you can be the judge Kaoru, of whether we'll do it or not.

J: Well, we'll appeal for questions. Ok, well let's finish here this time. Please subscribe. Thank you very much.

J, T, Kami: Thank you.

#tfoe #the freedom of expression #dir en grey #kaoru #薫

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