#the fact that i have pals i spend several hours every day w now? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ptergwen · 3 years

Text

web of lies

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

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you’ve never missed a deadline.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what are you doing tonight?”

peter parker taglist

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

if i forgot you please lmk!

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

448 notes · View notes

un-beel-ievable · 3 years

Text

Obey Me! Headcanons - The Demon Brothers react to a MC who owns a golden retriever 🐕

Author’s note: I'm home :3 Feel free to reblog, but please do not repost!! If you enjoy my writing, do leave me a like and/or a comment (and follow me to see similar content in the future :D)!

_____

Lucifer ☕

• When your dog first bounds over to greet Lucifer, it’s difficult to tell if the eldest born is a fan of your four-legged pal or not. The Avatar of Pride scrutinizes the ball of fluff as if he were a judge on a dog show —all the while as your dog vibrates impatiently by the front door with a tennis ball in its mouth. Perhaps it senses the need to be on its best behaviour if it’s to impress Lucifer.

• “A pet is a responsibility, not a novelty. I sincerely hope that you thought long and hard about the obligations of a pet owner before you went ahead with your decision to adopt. That being said, you appear to be doing quite well with your four-legged companion —they’re very well behaved. I have absolutely no qualms with you taking over Cerberus’s care when you return to the House of Lamentation; clearly you’d manage much more elegantly than my brothers. Perhaps Cerberus would enjoy the company of your charming pooch as well…”

• So Lucifer does like your dog. Not an entirely surprising revelation, if you’ve seen how he behaves around Cerberus in private. The strict no-nonsense archdemon turns into the softest dog owner that you’d ever have the pleasure of meeting; he’s all ear scritches and belly rubs. By the end of his visit, your dog is blissfully rolling on the carpet by Lucifer’s feet as the Avatar of Pride informs it over and over again that it is indeed “a good dog”.

• Perhaps you’ll even catch the small —but genuine— smile twitching at the corners of Lucifer’s lips as he does so.

Mammon 💳:

• In hindsight, perhaps giving Mammon a heads up about the presence of your pooch would have been a good idea.

• Despite your numerous attempts to reassure Mammon that the furry ball of enthusiasm barreling towards him is a Good Dog™, the terrified shriek that escapes the Avatar of Greed is shrill and ear-splitting enough to shatter your windows (Metaphorically speaking, of course. Rest assured, no windows were harmed in the writing of this headcanon.). When your dog leaps at him to nudge its head into his hand for scritches™ and headpats™, Mammon’s life flashes before his eyes. The only image that he can bring to mind before he passes out cold on your carpet is Cerberus’s terrifying snarl.

• When Mammon comes to, your dog is sitting on his chest —looking concerned and suitably chastised for accidentally scaring the living daylights out of the demon. (Even though Mammon refuses to come clean about how terrified he was. “The great Mammon? Afraid of a lil’ dog? W-What...What are ya talkin’ about? I wasn’t scared!”) The events that occurred over the last couple of minutes play on a loop in Mammon's mind. It finally dawns on him that your dog isn’t the ferocious beast that his imagination had conjured up, and his cheeks flush scarlet.

• Please give your demon a hug. I think he needs one. Or several.

Leviathan 🎮:

• If Leviathan had a pet ranking system, Henry 1.0 and Henry 2.0 would always claim the highest spots possible —the S-tiered, 5-star gods of the pet world. No golden retriever could ever worm its way to the top and snatch his love for them from under his feet. Sorry. But your dog is pretty cute, he’ll give you that.

• Too cute, maybe. Hey...um...you don’t love your dog more than you love him, right? What? Him, the Avatar of Envy, jealous? No! Of course not! Why would you make such an outrageous assumption? He’s not jealous —an adorable fluff ball of enthusiasm for the outdoors and joy is a way better than an icky otaku, after all. Leviathan doesn’t blame you for choosing your dog over him. Any sane individual would do the same...

• When you finally manage to reassure your demon that your dog is in no way competition for the affection that you hold for him, —he’ll always be your favourite demon, even if you have a dog. Even if you have a hundred dogs. Nothing is going to change that— he begins looking at your pooch in a different light. That’s right —as a potential cosplay partner. There’s this new anime that’s been released recently...Levi was wondering if you had heard of it? It’s titled: My Partner Is The Proud Owner Of A Golden Retriever And I’m An Otaku Who Enjoys The Simple Pleasure Of Collecting Merchandise and Cosplaying. One of the main characters happens to own a golden retriever as well, and if you’re willing to give him your blessing (the irony, I know), perhaps you’d lend him your pooch for an afternoon of cosplay and photography?

Satan 📚:

• Satan is a cultured demon who enjoys the company of four-legged companions, but he’s admittedly a fan of felines...not canines. Still, he prides himself on keeping an open mind towards new experiences, so he agrees to spend an afternoon with you and your dog (Even though he’d much rather be attending the opening day ceremony of the Devildom’s newest cat cafe. The things he does for love.).

• He performs some through research before meeting your dog for the first time; spending afternoon after afternoon in the sanctuary of his room reading about dogs and how to care for them. No number of books could prepare him for the real thing, however. When Satan first comes over to spend the afternoon in your home, he’s stiff and awkward —unsure of what to do with a dog. He ends up spending the first hour on your couch, sipping tea and spouting facts about golden retrievers.

• Show him the rope that your dog enjoys playing tug-of-war with, or the tennis ball that it insists on carrying in its jaws everywhere it goes. It takes a while for Satan to warm up to your pooch, but he’ll gradually learn to love —or at the very least, tolerate— your canine companion, even though he still firmly believes in the superiority of cats. Speaking of which, you’d accompany him on a date to that new cat cafe, right?

Asmodeus 💋:

• Oh! Your golden retriever is absolutely adorable! And gorgeous too —albeit not as beautiful as him, but that’s to be expected. There’s not a single individual in all of the three realms that could match up to his beauty. And your dog has such luscious fur too...dear Diavolo, he’d kill to have a haircare routine that’s as effective on his locks.

• Would you be willing to take a photo of him posing with your pooch? It’s for his Devilgram followers, of course —such beauty must be shared with the world, no? You’re not entirely sure if Asmo’s referring to his beauty, your dog’s beauty, or the shared, collective beauty of him and your dog. It doesn’t particularly matter. The two (three?) of you end up spending the entire afternoon orchestrating an impromptu photoshoot, and then spending the evening editing the photographs from said shoot for Devilgram.

• Generally gets along with your four-legged companion like a house on fire. There’s just one, itsy-bitsy issue.

• Your dog sheds. A ton. No matter how often you brush its fur, or how many boundaries you set about it not being allowed on the furniture, it seems determined to shed every carpet, sofa and bed that you own. Asmo never stops whining about the copious amounts of fur that now decorate every article of clothing he owns, but at least your dog seems happy to be able to leave its mark —on Asmo’s ensembles, of course, but also his heart.

Beelzebub 🍔:

• Corporate has asked you to find the difference between this picture and this picture—

• Asmo gets along well with your dog. Beel gets along with your dog even better. As one of the few only brothers who’s willing to spend any amount of time with Cerberus (granted, most of the time he’s only doing so because he’s been promised free food), Beel has grown into quite the dog lover. Your dog seems thrilled to be in the company of someone who appears to wholeheartedly enjoy its company —your dog is thrilled by the company of anyone who’s willing to give it their time of day, but still— and Beelzebub is thrilled to be in the company of a four-legged companion who appears to wholeheartedly enjoy his company. Beel is happy to spend whole afternoons playing with your dog...interspaced with the occasional snack break, of course.

• Speaking of which, Beel very much struggles with not giving into your golden retriever’s extremely convincing puppy dog eyes. Objectively, he knows that giving your dog human (or demon) food is a terrible idea —the last thing he wants is to be the reason that your dog has to take a trip to the vet. But your dog is so cute! And it’s looking at his food with such an intense longing in its eyes...Beel can relate to that. Surely a little nibble wouldn’t hurt…

• When you find yourself having to tell Beel off, suddenly you find yourself at the receiving end of 2 sets of puppy dog eyes; both Beel and your pupper are very sorry. They swear it’ll never happen again! Please don’t be upset…

• How are you supposed to stay mad at them?

Belphegor 🛏:

• ...listen.

• It’s not that he hates dogs. Honestly! He likes dogs as much as the next demon! But they can be loud and yappy and so incredibly energetic, and your golden retriever is more hyper than most. It always wants to go on walks, or play fetch, or make him throw its favourite tennis ball over and over again but refuse to hand it over so he has to engage in a slobbery game of tug-of-war to steal the ball from it —it’s just too much for the Avatar of Sloth. Just watching your dog zip across the room in a display of its endless amounts of energy is enough to tire Belphie out...is playtime over yet? He just wants to take a nap.

• Makes multiple attempts to talk you into allowing Beel to look after your dog. Just for an afternoon! His twin certainly has the energy to keep your hyperactive pup entertained for the whole day, and since you can be assured that your dog is well taken care of, perhaps the two of you could finally stay inside for once and take a nice, long nap. It’s been too long since he’s gotten to hold you in his arms…

• By the time Beel returns your dog to you, it’s all tuckered out from its day of adventures. As you’re thanking Beel for looking after your dog for the day, you catch him chuckling softly at something over your shoulder —Belphie and your furry friend, dozing off together on the couch. They appear to finally be getting along.

BONUS: I'm still not terribly comfortable with adding the (former) undatables to my writing repertoire, but my partner happens to be very fond of the demon butler...and I happen to be very fond of them. So just this once, just to see how it goes...

Barbatos 🍵:

• Oh? So this is the sweet bundle of fur that he’s heard so much about. It’s a pleasure to meet them at long last. Barbatos has always been fond of dogs, and your dog is quite an endearing creature to say the least...it actually reminds Barbatos of Cerberus when he was a puppy. How time flies.

• Treats your dog as if it were an esteemed guest of the castle. As long as Barbatos is around, you needn’t lift a finger when it comes to the care of your beloved pet. Keeping your dog fed and watered? Barbatos has it covered; the butler seems to have an in built in timer when it comes to feeding your dog —Barbatos serves its meals at exactly 6 in the morning and 6 in the evening. Not a minute early, not a minute late. When taking your dog out on walks, he carries a spare bottle of water for the sole purpose of offering it to your dog if it gets thirsty. Speaking of walks...Barbatos is more than happy to escort your pooch on walks in the event that you’re unavailable to do so yourself. Barbatos generally allows your golden to lead the way on their excursions, and is content with following along behind it to keep it out of trouble for however long it wishes to remain outdoors. If it were to tire itself out, Barbatos takes your dog into his arms and carries it the rest of the way home.

• Your pooch becomes very spoiled very quickly. It’s unclear if you’ve gained a butler...or if your dog has.

#obey me shall we date #obey me game #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date headcanons #headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me barbatos

271 notes · View notes

mimiwrites2000 · 4 years

Text

Trust

Pairings: Armin x Annie/ slightly Eren x Mikasa

Words count: 5095

*spoilers for chapter 126

A one shot about Armin and Annie finally having a moment after they met in chapter 126

They had to set up a camp, as the plan would start tomorrow, or at least that was what they wished, if there was anything left from the world by then anyway.

It was a relief for Armin and the rest of the squad to see Commander Hanji and Captain Levi alive and breathing, with all the disastrous shit they went through, seeing them again brought comfort to all of them, even though captain Levi was all patched up and it was a miracle how he’s still alive, and the Commander looked… fine, but Armin saw that face before, it was the same expression they showed when they were on the top of wall Maria, when Armin had just been revived and woke up, after they lost Erwin and myriad number of soldiers.

All in one blow.

But Armin thought that they had no time to get emotional, just like the day in Trost, when he delivered the news that Eren and the rest of his squad were dead, he could never forget the look in Mikasa’s eyes, when she told him it’s not the time to get emotional, they had a war to fight, a war to win.

But it was kind of tough for Armin to compress his emotions with Annie around them -now free from the crystal, she was hanging around him like they were old pals who met accidentally at a camping site at summer holiday, as if he hadn’t spent the past four years sneaking with permission from Hitch into the basement and sit there for hours, talking and ranting about everything, spending sleepless nights with nothing but the torch light and the freezing air in the basement, watching her floating in what looked like clear ice, crystal so pure like a diamond.

And now here she was, sitting with them around the camp fire as they got themselves something to eat, where they all sat, adversaries with friends, having dinner together for the first time under the starry night.

It was absurd, Armin thought, but it was what should have been done, his rational side told him that they could never take on Eren alone, and no matter how advanced Marley was, they didn’t have a chance either, basically there was no other option than combining their forces and work together, even if it was just this one time.

It was late at night, several hours after they ate, almost midnight, sleep bags have been laid, and it was silent, the crickets’ clicking piercing the atmosphere, cutting through the crisp air.

Armin curled in his sleeping bag, it was cold, freezing cold, but underneath the extra blanket – thanks to Mikasa for suggesting packing those- he felt warm. He was covered from head to toes, only eyes and nose out and he breathed in the night’s air.

He didn’t know if others were sleeping, but for him, sleep sounded like a luxury he couldn’t afford, and the other person he knew for sure wasn’t asleep was Mikasa, there was no way she could be sleeping when in the next few hours she’d raise her blade in Eren’s face, Armin didn’t feel easy about it either, but what could they do? Let him go on with his genocide plan and clap for his finally granted freedom? They had to stop him, or die trying to.

Armin sighed, his breath turning into a marginal cloud of mist, he saw it elevating and tracked it with his eyes, then he heard the shuffling of someone leaving their sleeping bag, and saw Annie standing up, and walking towards the woods.

His instincts told him to launch after her, to make sure she doesn’t make an escape, they would need her titan power in the plan, and they couldn’t do without her; they were in desperate need for as much power they could garner.

He let her go and decided to trust her, but his eyes followed her, she didn’t go far anyway; just when she passed the closest tree, she slide down and sat on the dirt, her back to the camp, facing the darkness of the forest.

He didn’t avert his gaze from her, even though something in him assured him that she wouldn’t flee. He thought how if he was watching other girls like this, he would be a creep, a pervert, but with Annie, it didn’t feel creepy at all, it felt normal, and in fact; he was used to it, just sit and watch her, like that, for hours, he had been doing it for four years.

But this time if he spoke she could hear him, and if he tried to touch her, there would be no barrier between him and her, well it’s not like she’d just let him poke at her face, or pat her head, or feeling the strands of her golden locks between his fingers, or… kiss her.

Armin shivered at the thought, and his heart sped up in his chest, pumping blood into his veins and oofff when did it get hot?

Armin unintentionally licked his lips, he had fantasized of kissing Annie, how her lips would feel against his, he thought that they would be soft and warm, she would warp her hand around his neck and step on the tip of her toes, her bangs brushing against his cheeks, then she would whisper his name and-

Armin blushed at his own thoughts and shrank on himself in embarrassment even though no one could see him or hear what was going on inside his head, thankfully.

He had many restless night, narrating a scenario after the other of how he would react when Annie would finally get out the crystal, one of them was wrapping her with his arms, and she would be shivering from the cold, the other was giving her the kiss of life as she came out of the crystal breathless, he even had one fantasy that she would break out her crystal, kiss him, and then she would just harden herself into the crystal again.

Man, his daydreaming went wild sometimes.

But all this time his mind kept coming up with these fairy tales happily-ever-after stories went straight into trash, because how in hell could he had made a scenario where the walls collapsed, Eren was the villain, and he had accidentally met Annie while she was snarfing a pie down? Four years worth of pie?

Not in his wildest dream, nope.

But putting all that to the side, there she was, a few feet from him, and all the I’m your knight in shining armor fantasies coward into the shadow, and now that this was actually happening in real life, he realized how absurd and out of the world these fantasies were, how in hell would Annie just accept his opened arms? Hell, she might punch the shit out of him, probably hang him on a branch with only his underwear on, and let him freeze until dawn break.

So, Armin peeled off the blanket, took a deep breath that froze his lungs, clutched the blanket in one hand, then took steady steps towards Annie.

Armin stood right beside Annie, he could see her profile, and she didn’t even acknowledge him standing there, did she just ignore him? Or did she candidly not notice his presence? Which was weird compared to Annie’s sharp senses.

Armin took the few steps that separated them, and as gently as he could, draped the blanket on Annie’s shoulders, which was, after he had already done it, a bad choice.

Annie flinched at the feeling of something on her back, she collected sand with her hand and throw it at whatever was behind her, this could get her some time until she was on guard and took her stance-

Oh.

“You.” She breathed, her heart racing in her chest from the adrenaline rush, and she felt the cold air penetrating her lungs with every short, ragged breath she took, then she let out a long shuddered exhale as she slanted against the tree’s trunk, closing her eyes, while Armin was spitting dirt and his eyes tearing to weed it out.

It’s just him, Armin.

She had no idea for how long he had been standing there, but she knew that she almost kicked the shit out of him. Annie focused on her breathing, taking bug gulps of air, then letting it out slowly, concentrating, ignoring the baffled Armin who stood there after the tears and the coughing ceased.

Armin stood there ignorant to what he was supposed to do, the blanket was on the ground beside Annie, should he just leave it there and get back to his warm sleeping back and act like nothing ever happened, or should he try again, or maybe he should just keep standing still and make more of an idiot of himself?

The third option is what he went along with.

He waited for Annie, to do or say anything, and he hoped she’d do it soon before he turned into an ice statue.

Annie, without opening her eyes, reached for the blanket, wrapped it around herself and nuzzled her face into it, “Thanks.” She said, her voice muffled by the blanket over her mouth.

“Y-yeah, sure, I thought that it was really cold out h-here, you know, so I thought you’d use a blanket, that hoodie w-won’t be enough.” Armin swallowed, “not that I can decide that on your behalf, you know, who am I to say?”

Annie kept her eyes closed.

Armin felt like an idiot.

He slapped his forehead, sighed a very I’m-such-an-idiot sigh, and turned around before he embarrassed himself more than he already did.

“Armin.”

He halted in his tracks, thought that he had imagined that call, but when he turned his head to look at Annie, she was already observing him, with that bored expression of hers.

“You c-called?” Armin stuttered, and he blamed the cold, and to demonstrate, he hugged himself and rubbed his arms up and down his biceps, cold, you know?

“I did.”

“Oh.”

A beat of silence.

Armin waited patiently for whatever was waiting for him, but his pessimistic side screamed that she’s going to tell him to go fuck himself and never show his face ever again.

“Do you, um, have a moment?” Annie said slowly, stopping mid-sentence, contemplating whether she should keep going or not, her hesitant tone was an enough boost for Armin to let out a “Yeah sure, what is it?” in one go; seeing that Annie was nervous too made this, somehow, easier for him.

Armin sat crossed legged in front of Annie, who had her knees hugged to her chest, her face half covered in the blanket, her hair messy and her eyes looked tired even in this darkness. He didn’t prompt her to start, he sat there, waiting her to take her time to say whatever she wanted to say, whenever she wanted to, zero pressure.

Annie kept looking at everything but Armin; her eyes wondering a tree on the left, or a stick on the right, or just staring up at the leaves above her head that concealed the starry sky from her, seeking stars between dewy leaves. After she inspected everything around her, the only remaining thing she didn’t look at was him.

She took a deep breath.

“The only thing I wanted was to get back home.” Annie started.

Armin’s eyebrows rose the tiniest bit, he didn’t expect her to say anything like that…. Nah, the guy was clueless, he had no idea what to anticipate.

“I didn’t kill anyone because I wanted to.”

Armin eyebrows furrowed having an idea where this was going.

“I didn’t enjoy it either, I just didn’t care, I mean back then, I didn’t even get myself to care, I was selfish, I just wanted to get done with the mission and go back, I don’t have much years left-”

“Annie.” Armin shuffled closer to her, trying to make her stop.

“I just want to get back to him-”

“Ann-”

“And live a normal life, for a few years, in a home with someone I genuinely care about.”

Armin raised his hand, hovering over her knee for a moment, testing the water, when Annie didn’t kick him, he rested it.

He didn’t squeeze, rub or anything, he merely covered it.

Annie went silent, she didn’t know why she blurted out that to him, or why would she want to tell him, or if he wanted to hear it in the first place, but something was nagging her, like a needle twining at the inward of her skull, that she should get this off her chest or she might shatter and explode.

And they might die tomorrow.

Annie’s eyes looked straight into Armin’s, and she absorbed how blue they looked, they were glittering, their blue hue looked as young as they did when he glared at her from the bottom of the stairs, just a few minutes before she cut herself off this living hell.

And she was fifteen again, looking at him from across the training ground, being tossed over by Bert in hand to hand combat, and when Bert apologized and offered his hand to help Armin up, he would reject it and stand on his own, with a purple, swollen eye he would take his stance again, and wobbly charge at Bert, then he’d faint the moment he hit him, and Eren would be called to get him to the infirmary.

He had always been the weakest, the most fragile of them all, his physics hadn’t much change since he joined the military, but Annie grew up knowing that muscles weren’t a candid scale for strength and never would be, she was like that herself.

But now she looked at someone different, changed from the outside, taller, but not like the others, muscular, but not rugged like the others, handsome, but not like the others.

Because he was who he was, his own person.

And he was different from the others.

That what made him Armin.

And they kept eye contact, memories flashing from their pasts, their eyes held so much, had seen so much, it was unfair; from all the people in this world, why did they have to be the ones to go through this?

Annie was the first to break eye contact; she buried her face into the blanket and said, her voice muffled: “But… I’ve been thinking about it…” Armin kept looking at her “and I know that I’ve committed irredeemable sins, I know that, and I’m aware of it.”

“You don’t have to talk about it.” Armin said, he lifted his hand of her knee and continued: “we’ve all did horrible, horrible stuff to this world, to ourselves, and we’re responsible about them.”

Armin’s words weren’t much help to Annie; she shuffled in her place, her arms rubbing her body under the blanket, huffing out a breath, and listened; it’s not that she expected him to hug her and whisper in her ear that it’s not her fault, and that they were forced to do it, were controlled by others at a time when they couldn’t object and say no, but of course he wouldn’t comfort her like that, he was sensible, the big head, the righteous Armin she was familiar with.

“But what had been done can’t be erased Annie, and I’ve… I sometimes, you know, at night when I can’t sleep, I wonder if I hadn’t joined the training corps from the very beginning, and spent the rest of my life farming or something,” It was Armin’s turn to rant for a bit, even though she had already heard what was he about to say countless times; these sleepless night he spent thinking, he was in the basement, sitting a few feet away from her, thinking out loud “maybe have a family at some point, I don’t know, just what would have happened if I didn’t follow Eren and Mikasa into the military, how things would have turned out?”

“You think you could’ve made a family? You think any girl would have fallen for your scrawny body? Sheesh, sweet dreams alright.”

“Ouch Annie, that hurt…”

“Oh don’t fake hurt, you wouldn’t believe it anyway…”

“Huh?”

“There was a girl you had fallen for a few years back, right? What her name was? Yeah right, Maddie, she worked in the closest bakery to the barracks, didn’t she? And her hair was brown-”

“Alright so first of all I didn’t fall for her,” Armin found his hand in front of his body, defending himself, a victim who was accused of a crime, “she came to me one day saying she had those butterflies in her stomach when she sees me or something…”

The corner of Annie’s lips twitched in a smirk, her trick worked flawlessly fine on him, and she affirmed that he didn’t know yet.

“Wait! You were… you were conscious, all this time, Annie, how, why, oh God” the unforeseen realization swathed him, swept him of his feet, and he slapped his forehead “God, why haven’t I thought of that before….”

“I can black mail you any time, just so you’d know.” Annie threatened.

“Ugh.” Armin grunted, rubbing his forehead; it stung him where he slapped himself.

“Who knew you were that talkative? You didn’t shut up for four years straight, neither did Hitch…” she looked at him, and he was blushing, she thought he looked adorable when he was abashed, “your tales were more fun though, all Hitch did was complain about some guys or work or something.”

“Huh, thanks I guess.”

“I’m glad you talked to me, Armin.” Well that certainly grabbed his attention, he looked at Annie through his fingers, “it got me to know the walls better, I mean what happened from your point of view, it made me… understand things better.”

They sat in silence for a while, neither of them talked, looking at each other from time to time, or just stare at anything surrounding them, each of them lost in their own worlds, which happened to collide at one point; both of them stared at each other for so long it felt like eternity, and that was when they leaned in…

Annie was lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize she was leaning into Armin, she felt a magnetic energy emitting from him, so strong and clear, drawing her to him, and she was attracted to it, moving towards it. His eyes were half lidded and so were hers.

Armin leaned towards her too, glancing at her lips then back at her eyes, and his heart picked up its pace, it was beating so fast he could feel it banging against his ribcage.

Armin shuffled closer to Annie; their faces were a few inches apart.

And that was when something shouted in Annie’s brain, waking her up from whatever she was trying to do. With a gasp, she started and flinched away from him, and that started Armin too.

“God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Annie I didn’t mean to-”

“Cut it, I was as dumb as you.”

Armin did cut it, he didn’t discuss any further, and he froze in his place, now that he was a little bit closer to her, and he should probably back off, but he didn’t; he was hoping Annie would say something; anything, he didn’t want to get back into that sleeping bag just yet, he didn’t wanna leave with such an awkward goodnight-see-you-tomorrow, besides, he had so much left to say.

He didn’t dare utter a word, it hadn’t been five minutes and he had already messed up twice; first startling her and eating dirt as a reward, second, he tried to kiss her, right there, ‘hey it’s been four years, yes, let’s make out!’

The more he thought about it, the more heat ignited in his cheeks and in the top of his stomach so he buried his face between his knees, his fingers knotting on top of his head ruffling his hair.

“Aren’t you freezing?”

Now that she mentioned it, Armin couldn’t feel the tips of his toes, “Uh, yeah kind of.” He said to his shoes.

When he had raised his head up to look at her, she had already lifted the end of blanket; prompting him to share the blanket with her.

Armin could decline her offer, wish her goodnight, and go to sleep, and everything would be over, but he wanted to sit close to her, to actually feel her flesh heat, not an icy crystal… he wanted it so bad, so he crawled toward the open invitation, and sat beside Annie, covering both of them with the blanket, the warm soothing his muscles.

Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, they sat there, their breathing mixed, and Armin felt like he could fly.

He couldn’t believe that he was under a blanket with the person he stared at for the past four years, and that she’s legitimately accepting it.

Annie rested her head on Armin’s shoulder, and closed her eyes, she obviously wasn’t going to sleep, but she wanted to reserve this moment of peace before whatever trouble the next day held for them.

Armin tensed when he felt Annie’s head leaning on his shoulder, but peering down at her face that showed serenity made him at ease, tranquil once again, and before he knew it, he ever so gently placed his chin on the top of her head, then he unintentionally sneaked his arm around her waist, and she welcomed it.

Warmth enveloped them, and it was most likely not from the blanket itself.

“Have I told you that you look handsome in that undercut?”

Instead of blushing or panicking, Armin surprised himself when he replied with: “Yeah I know.”

And he earned a marginal chuckle from Annie, a little vibration of her body.

He dramatically gasped and said: “I’m so offended.”

“No I’m not laughing at you.” Annie defended herself, “it’s just funny how all of you had changed, even Connie, that dwarf, look at him, I mean look at how tall he is, and then there’s me.”

“Well you didn’t leave any room for yourself to grow, I mean, was it too compressed inside that crystal?” Armin reasoned, even though he really wasn’t serious at all and wasn’t looking for an answer.

“God, I know, alright?” Annie resented.

“You’re even in the same cloths from years ago, literally-” that earned Armin a not-so-playful nudge at the ribs.

“This shit is nasty, I should’ve asked for a change or something.”

Then they fell silent again, now that they were in each other embrace, they didn’t want to ever forget this moment; they might not get any other chance in the future to be this close to each other.

“Annie…” Armin called out after a while, checking if she had fallen asleep, but she hummed in response.

Armin didn’t feel the words roll off his tongue, “You’re actually a good person.”

Annie huffed and told him to cut the bullshit.

“No, I’m being dead serious.”

“Why would you say that now? Couldn’t find a better moment to ruin?” The last part of that stung Armin, then Annie tried to stand up, but Armin’s arm around her kept her on the ground and wrapped more tightly around her.

“Listen to me, would you?” Armin requested, his voice calm.

“I’ve been listening for the past four years!”

“Well then you wouldn’t mind an extra few minutes, would you?”

Annie didn’t answer, but she bounced her feet on the floor a few times, and that was enough for Armin to continue: “You fought for what you believed was right, you didn’t fight for Marley, nor did you fight against Paradise, all you’ve ever wanted was to get back to your father, your family, and that’s an adequate reason to fight for.”

Annie kept quiet, looking forward, not showing any emotions on her face.

“If I still had my grandfather, I would have fought the whole world to stay by his side to make sure he’s well…” Armin looked up, his eyes chasing the stars, he hadn’t notice that it was a full moon tonight, it gave him warmth, sort of, he didn’t notice when Annie started wondering his face, “I would have done what you’ve done Annie, a soldier motive to fight is complicated, not anyone can understand it, it’s too personal.”

Armin thought of Eren, what was he fighting for? Was it actually freedom? What about Mikasa, why is she still fighting until this day? Connie, Sasha, Jean? What was keeping them going forward, advancing with all they’ve got, putting their lives out on the line?

Was it worth it?

Warm fingers grazed his cheeks, turning his head, and when he looked at Annie, her lips were a few inches away from him, and they looked so… inviting, he noticed that her eyes were fixated on his lips, and his heart started racing.

The way the moon light lit her profile, made a halo around her face, her hair looked so silky and soft soft soft, he wanted to run his fingers through it, and he did, only with the tip of his fingers, he caressed the locks that covered part of her face, twirling them at the end before putting them behind her ear, and she leaned the tiniest bit into his hand, rubbed her cheek on the inside of his palm, soft against calloused, just soothing each other in the perfect amount, giving each other the suitable quantity of warmth and care in a time where they both were hungry for some comfort and affection.

Annie’s heart was speeding up, but she felt calm at the same moment, she couldn’t remember a time when she could actually feel comfortable and safe in someone’s embrace without kicking them, she had always been aloof, distant from everyone, this was a whole new experience to her, and she liked it; the coziness she got from Armin’s simple gesture was… lovely.

He leaned a little bit towards her, and she was craning her neck up, he glanced at her lips, and she glanced at his eyes.

Armin hesitated for a few seconds when he was so close to her lips, he could just lean in a little bit more and he can kiss her, feel her lips on his, and she shared the same desire as him, both wanting each other. Annie’s eyes were already closed, and Armin pondered her face for a moment longer before his eyes fluttered closed too.

It was a chaste kiss, only a brush that lasted a few seconds long, a sensation new to both of them.

A brush of lips that made shivers travel down Armin’s spine, he had never experienced anything like it before, the rush of heat, the sudden intangible enthusiasm he felt, and he melted, in his mind he picture his body turned all wobbly, rickety before it started dripping until he was nothing but a puddle on the ground. He hopped that Annie felt the same, she must have known how Armin was boiling beside her; he felt his cheeks burning, at any second Annie would startle and draw back, blowing on her fingers.

But she didn’t, because she thought she’d burn Armin’s cheek to a char under her blazing fingers.

Blue moonlight immersed them, and at that moment, clouds covered the sky; securing both of them from prying stars.

When they pulled apart, Annie’s cheeks were dusted with a blush, and with the way she looked at Armin, he most likely looked the same.

Then Armin smiled, a whole heartedly smile, and Annie smiled in return, she even let out a quite chuckle, she felt happy, he did too, the world was ending, but at that moment everything was just perfect.

Annie nuzzled her head closer to Armin and rested it on his shoulder, sighing a content sigh, and closing her eyes, then Armin planted a soft kiss on the crown of her head, he didn’t even hesitate or think about it; he just did it, then he rested his head on top of Annie’s, and closed his eyes.

BONUS:

Mikasa was watching Armin getting up and going after Annie, she knew this was going to happen sooner or later, “The Reunion”, she tried not to get the past events from judging Annie too harsh, however, she still had doubts about her, and rejected the idea of her helping them, but she also trusted Armin, and Armin trusted Annie.

She closed her eyes, even though she knew she couldn’t sleep, she just wanted to get alone with herself, to get some time to think, to ponder the crisis they were in, to ready herself for what was to come the next day.

She didn’t know why she brought the scarf along with them…

Mikasa thought of Eren, 15 years old Eren, with passionate eyes and ruthless demeanor, she replayed memories of them together, the training, and the next few months after Trost battle…

She wondered why did Armin believe Annie wasn’t a bad person? Why would he have faith in her? Not just a faith, a strong one, one you can sniff from miles away.

But then, Armin is a titan shifter, and titan shifters have access to their past holders’ memories, right? If Armin saw Annie through Bert memories, if he saw what the trio had to go through, what their lives were like in Marley, maybe he understood Annie’s actions, Armin was a rational thinker, he must’ve viewed everything objectively…

Mikasa opened her eyes, it was her turn to check on the fire and make sure to add wood to it, but her breath hitched at what she saw; Armin had his lips on Annie’s, he was kissing her. She didn’t see them fully, only Armin’s head and half of Annie’s head mostly covered by a curtain of her hair.

Mikasa turned in her sleeping bag, she wanted to give them privacy, she wasn’t a pervert, stalking others personal moments.

Then the tips of her mouth twitched and she smiled, curling further into the blankets, she was suspicious about Armin’s personal feelings towards Annie, and what happened just confirmed them.

Well, what could she say? The past is in the past, she thought, and if that makes Armin happy, then she would be happy too.

Her mind to travelled to what Eren would have said if he saw Armin and Annie too…

~~~

Thank you all for reading! hope you enjoyed it.

I must thank that one person who’s just soooo sweet and encouraging

@madninive

this girl is the utter meaning of fabulous, like you guys have no idea how much she helps me in writing and giving me ideas and just being great in general, so thank you so much for your consistent support, I appreciate it so much.

check her blog out, her writings and drawing are one of the finest, she’s just fabulous

#aruani #armin x annie #snk #snk spoilers #AoT #eremika #eren x mikasa #snk ch 126 #armin #Annie Leonhardt #armin arlert #annie

129 notes · View notes

thrilla-in-mcgilla · 5 years

Text

THE FINAL POST

To everyone who thought that this blog was dead, you were mistaken. Yes, I have risen from the emotional shambles that was moving out of residence, and as I [start to] write this post I will be sleeping in my bed in BDot for the first time of the summer. Essentially, with this post, I’m hoping to hit some of the highlights of the year, but mostly it’s just going to turn into one long [and I mean looooong] sappy post dedicated to all of the friends that I’ve made along the way. So buckle your seatbelt ladies and gents and let me walk you through my first year of university.

One of the things that always gave us something to look forward to was going to Arvind’s concerts. If you remember, Arvind is my friend who is in the music program at McGill, and he plays the flute [most of the time at least]. The first concert of his that we went to was on November 2nd, but we went to many more throughout the year. In second semester, Arvind wasn’t placed in one of the major ensembles, which was very upsetting, but also meant that we got to see him perform in the university chorus, yes that means singing. All of us marked it down in our calendars, and I thankfully captured the song with hand motions on video [Come Sweeeeeeeet Death]. Despite being constantly challenged by his teachers, Arvind definitely pushed through first year and is no doubt on his way to becoming the best flutist at McGill.

Towards the end of our first semester, we started having frequent game nights, where uno was by far the most popular pick. Through our game nights, many new catchphrases were created, such as: “oh is that not good for you?”, “cAn’t gO?”, “don’t trust Michael, don’t trust Michael [to the tune of frere jacques]”, “eeYEAHHH”, and many more that I’m probably forgetting. This was especially helpful to help us all deal with the stress of final exams, and “uno in 503?” was a question that would often appear in our group chat [503 was Anna and Sayaka’s room number]. I know, I know, really? You guys stayed in to play uno instead of going out to some party? Most of the time, yes. I can’t believe it either.

Soon after first semester was over, the Owl’s Nest realized that our residence’s dining hall was just not going to cut it for the rest of the year, and we started eating at other dining halls much more frequently. Speaking of food, group outings became a defining feature of my friend group, and we would often plan dinners or brunches at our favourite restaurants weeks in advance [so that we could save our money haha]. Universel was definitely our favourite breakfast place, and I’m pretty sure all of us took our parents and friends there whenever they were in town. Fisshu, although we only went twice, was a delicious sushi restaurant, oh my goodness I can taste the maki from here, yum. Moving on to the more classic university experience, late night trips to Tims, or orders from Chef on Call [their veggie burger gets an A+ from Michael, Sena and I], were probably a little too frequent than we’d like to admit. Yes, that’s right everyone I am still not eating meat, and I’m quite proud of that fact so please try not to eat chicken wings in front of me or I might cry (I won’t eat them though, Michael stop judging me).

As I mentioned in my last post ions ago, I was a part of Hall Council this year. After the Halloween event, we had many more successes. We hosted two coffee houses [like mini talent shows], a winter formal, another beer pong tournament, a residence wide month long elimination game called Gotcha, a free food event, and a “Flashback to Frosh” event. I’ll insert videos of my friends and I performing at coffee house, I have some talented pals let me tell you! While hall council meetings were almost always a little bit chaotic, and we had our fair share of drama, I wouldn’t give up my experience on it for the world. We had so much fun running events for our peers, and I got to spend so much more time with my friends doing things that we love [i.e. being in charge haha]. Our council advisors said that we were one of the most cohesive councils that they’ve ever worked with, and I think that our ability to work well together really showed. Even though we were a group of almost 30 people, which was challenging at some times, we really made things happen. Between running our own events, and going to the events hosted by other councils, we all had a really good time within the residence community and I’m really thankful for that.

(Sena helping me set up the photo booth for the winter formal)

(A VERY low quality photo of Sena, Anna, Myself and Emma [wolves], at IRC’s Blackout, Whiteout event)

(Kaya and I tabling for ERC’s sustainable eating initiative)

(Anna and I at the Flashback to Frosh event)

(Emma [wolves], myself and Anna at IRC’s Wine and Cheese night)

(My delicious beverage and I at our final council outing)

(The entirety of Hall Council at the Halloween event)

youtube

(Coffee House performances)

Moving on to RezWarz, which I mentioned in one of my very first posts, there were several events throughout the year that contributed to the accumulation of RezWarz points. The first notable one is the IronChef competition. A team from each of the residences [or most of them], competed against each other in a cooking competition, where they had to cook both a protein and a vegetarian plate within a time limit, making sure to incorporate a few of the mystery ingredients. My friend Anna [who you should recognize from previous posts] competed alongside my friends Himanshu and Flemming, and they WON! It was very exciting for everyone involved, other than them who were actually competing because they didn’t even want to win! The winners of the first round would represent McGill in the next level, which was taking place at the University of Massachusetts. While they were very reluctant at first because of the time commitment that competing would mean, they decided to go, and they even got third place! Winning the IronChef competition was pretty remarkable for a few reasons. For one thing, C4 does not have any kitchens for students to use, so Anna, Flemming and Himanshu had to practice for RezWarz in another residence’s kitchen, and only for a few hours. Additionally, winning the IronChef competition meant a TON of RezWarz points, putting Carrefour Sherbrooke in FIRST PLACE. But this was not the last competition, so we had to fight really hard to try to stay on top.

(Anna, Himanshu, and Flemming holding their prizes!)

Our final RezWarz challenge was to create a lipdub, which, if you’re unfamiliar, is basically a crazy upbeat video where a bunch of people dressed in funky outfits lipsync to the camera in one take. C4 had managed to hold its lead in RezWarz up till this point, but it was really important that we made a really awesome video in order to secure the win. I had always wanted to make a lipdub video, so I kind of made this project my baby, with the help of wolves [that’s what we call my friend Emma if you haven’t caught on by now]. After making the track that we would be lipsyncing to, creating a shotlist of where each song would take place, and assigning the people who would “sing” each part, it was time to film. Filming, while very tiring, and not quite as crisp as I would’ve liked it to be, was a success. I then poured the rest of that night into editing and after probably around 15 hours total working on the lipdub, it was complete. The winners of RezWarz were to be announced in a couple of days at council dis-orientation, as well as the highest scorers for the lipdub. As it turned out, we won the lipdub, and as a result, WON REZWARZ! I’m sure it doesn’t sound like that big of a deal, but it really was for us. This was so ridiculously exciting for myself, all of my friends, hall council, and C4 as a whole. I hope I haven’t talked it up too much, but attached below is the C4 Lipdub. I know that this will be something that my friends and I can look back on for years to come, so I’m really happy that it turned out so well.

youtube

Next up on my list of bullet points, birthdays! The Owl’s Nest knows how to celebrate a birthday. After Emma and Michael’s birthdays which I already mentioned, we celebrated 4 more birthdays throughout the year [Sorry Arvind and Sena who have their birthdays over the summer]! We celebrated Anna’s birthday on November 15. Anna booked us an airbnb for the night, so that we could cook ourselves a meal, and bake some desert to boot! Overall the night was a lot of fun, between screaming the lyrics to every ABBA song, to Michael blaming the tomatoes for the mediocre pasta, to eating a delicious brownie with ice cream, to playing board games, to trying to make eggs in a pot in the morning, we had a blast. Next up on the 30th was Jonathan’s birthday. For his birthday I collaborated with his girlfriend to hold a surprise party for him in my room while she was in town. We went out and bought all the decorations: streamers, a banner, balloons, noisemakers, glow sticks, the whole nine yards. I spent a couple of hours setting everything up in my room, and I gotta say it looked pretty good considering it was just me [for the most part, that’s right Michael, you barely helped]. I swear he almost peed his pants so it was all worth it!

The next birthday was actually none other than yours truly! As you might have seen on facebook, for my birthday I decided I would like to go skating in old Montreal. But first, we stopped at A&W so I could grab the beautiful beyond meat burger with sweet potato fries hehe. After a treacherous walk in the cold we finally made it to the rink, which was stunning. I had to reteach myself how to skate for the first while, but once I got it, all was good. The walk back was much less pleasant, all of the owls had to defrost when we got home, but it was worth it [right guys?]. Writing this has reminded me that I’m the old lady of the group, and now I feel weird, but that’s alright, admire the photos.

Finally, the last birthday that we celebrated of the year was Sayaka’s! For her birthday we all went out to a Japanese restaurant [she’s the tiny Japanese one if that wasn’t obvious], and then we came back to rez and had a little party. By little party, I mean we got a little too drunk in my room, but that’s fine. We already have plans to visit Sena and Arvind for their birthdays so they won’t feel left out, don’t worry!

Before I move on to the really sappy stuff, here are some various photos of various fun things from throughout the year that didn’t really fit with the topics above.

(Myself, Michael, Sena, Anna, Arvind and Sayaka after the St. Patrick’s Day Parade, heading out to the Irish bar)

(Wolves, Michael and I went to the Montreal Youth Climate March that was observed by hundreds of thousands of students around the world)

(Wolves, Anna, Sena Lili and I at our first [and only] frat party)

(Sena, Michael, Arvind and I before heading to upper rez for a party with Michael’s friend from home)

(A photo taken on the walk home from karaoke. It was around -25 degrees and also the middle of a snowstorm [and also the night that Arvind and I ended up taking Michael to the hospital for a stomach bug])

(You can’t really tell, but a few of my friends from rez went across the street to protest the protestors who blew airhorns everyday at 10am and 3pm for months)

(From when Sena, Michael, Arvind and I met up in Toronto over the Christmas break)

(A picture of Arvind, Sayaka, Jonathan, Anna, Michael and I with the head chef of our dining hall at the holiday banquet)

(Self explanatory)

(Sena and I counting worms for our biology project)

(An awful photo but an incredible night. We had just had “camp council” which is basically just code for hall council getting drunk with the floor fellows. We were going to go out to a club or something, but instead we ended up having a massive snowball fight on McGill’s lower field, which was definitely 1000x more fun)

(From the night I climbed Mont Royal to take some photos)

(Michael and I at what turned into our favourite bar, McKibbins)

(Taken on one of our last nights together in Rez)

(It’s always snuggle time)

(My roommate Delal and I, right before I moved out of residence)

Okay here comes the really sappy emotional stuff, so feel free to skip ahead if you’re not up for it. I want to write little open letters to the people who made my first year away from home so incredible. So here it goes.

To Sayaka:

Our little Japanese! It’s so hard to believe that at one point you were just the crazy roommate of twin #1 that was moving into 503. You are definitely nothing like what those twins said you would be. What we gained instead was a caring, sweet, GIGGLY new friend that we could adopt into the owl’s nest. Whether it was scream-laughing too loud in the dining hall [I can still feel Ahmed’s intense gaze], or singing a little tune, or looking at anyone with those big eyes, you’ve always had such a positive attitude, and I think we could all learn from that. I will always remember standing in line for warehouse and you asking if you could touch my hair hahaha. A few things to clarify: no you are not 6 feet tall, I live east of you not “up”, the easter bunny has nothing to do with jesus, and so on. However, if you ever need anything, I will always be around to support you, how could anyone abandon the little one and make her japaNESE MAD. I have lots of love for you, and you don’t have to ask to pet my straight hair anymore, I give you eternal permission!

At the end of all these little open letters I’m going to say the song that reminds me of each of the owls, and since musical theatre is something we could always bond over, the song that makes me think of you is Poor Unfortunate Souls. While I was barely in The Little Mermaid AT MY HIGH SCHOOL, I’m so mad I missed you performing as Ursula. Although, I totally cannot imagine little ole you performing as the big nasty sea witch. I guess that’s just some Disney magic for ya.

To Jonathan:

Obviously, our friendship started with quite a few boulders to overcome. It definitely was not easy all of the time, but I’m really glad that we both stuck to the nest, because it just wouldn’t have been the same otherwise. We all know you as drunky jack, or white bread, and I truly hope those nicknames stick around, they’re just too funny lmao. You were one of the first people that I ever felt comfortable around in residence, ever since that night that you, Arvind, James and I walked around in search of an SAQ before we landed in Tims. From the way that we stayed up just talking for hours that night, there was absolutely no way that we wouldn’t remain friends. Don’t lose your spirit. Sometimes throughout the year it was clear you were a little down, but whenever the white boy dance moves were busted out, everyone had the chance to smile for at least a second. Try not to be a stranger.

A song reminds me of you [and obviously first year in general], is Body. There was something about drunky jack in the first week of school that just screams body, so I think it’s a perfect fit [the video of you at beach day, yikes].

To wOlves:

I remember thinking that I would never even get the chance to meet you. What crazy struggles getting that study permit (or whatever it was hehe). I also vividly remember meeting you for the first time and thinking “damn it this girl knows more memes than me”. You literally started flossing in the middle of the room and I just - wow. And you already know how impressed I was that day that you gave that man directions, not in french, no, in SPANISH. We definitely got a lot closer throughout second semester because of our favourite men [who helped us find the aREa of the potatOID]. I see a lot of myself in you, from our taste in bOys, to our taste in music, to our taste in sporcle quizzes, we’ve got a lot to talk about. You’re always there to laugh at my sarcastic side comments, and let me tell you I will always be there to laugh at yours. Some days I swear our minds are linked together. You overcame a lot this year, and I’m proud of you for that. As soon as we get back to Montreal, you, Sena and I must have a cuddly movie night, okay?? I absolutely loved screaming harmonies with you every chance we got, we gotta jam more now that Shelby is fixed and ready to play more Billie. I swear we’ll give you a better birthday party this year, but come on, we tried. One day, ONE DAY, you will perfect the mOve, and I will be there to capture the moment in all of its essence. We have many more inside jokes to create [haha eh :P] so I don’t know what you were planning buuuut you’re not going anywhere. You’re also the only one in the nest who’s movie taste I trust [come on Sena, you want to watch an action movie again??]. We need to do a day where we watch each others favourite movies, even if it’s a lot of them! I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our movie dates over text message and we better keep doing that all summer, it makes me feel less lonely! I love you like you’re my child and I will keep screaming at you not to eat timbits during shabbat [shabbafe bampus hehe]. I swear one day we will run into linear algebra boy and simultaneously confess our love for him, but until then we can only dream. Don’t forget your worth. I love you so much my little wolf.

Sis, you already know what your song is. No Flex by our favourite boys TMG. I feel like this doesn’t need any more explanation. [my body count up in the double digits (11), I got a TEXT, that’s all, no further comments thank you].

To Avinash Arvind Krishendeholl [the Indestructible Lotus]:

Wa-ow, what a year it’s been eH? First of all, thank you for being everyone’s emotional support dog, you’re probably one of the most dedicated friends that I’ve ever had. I probably would have cried myself to sleep many times this year if it weren’t for you. I don’t know what it is about you, but I think that everyone can just automatically sense that you’re trustworthy even when they first meet you. I felt instantly heard by you, and that’s a very special quality to have, and I mean it. I know we kid all the time, but I actually want to take the time to be completely honest with you in this little message because I feel like I don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate you. Arvind, you’ve really felt like my partner through the year and I know that a lot of the nest feels the same way. You’re the safety patroller 1 to my safety patroller 2, and I feel like it works for us. That first crisis really bonded us, I think it became evident to both of us that we are both the type of people who won’t just go to sleep if we feel that any one is in danger that we can help. We’re problem solvers my dude. I know everyone says they don’t know what they would do without you, and that’s just become something that people say casually, but seriously. You were a grounding force for all of us, someone that we could go to for actually anything. Whether it be conflict within the group, conflict with someone else, just a bad day, a big paper due, or even wanting a good laugh and a bite to eAT, you were there. You were there if I just wanted to sit in a room with someone else, or if I wanted a shoulder to cry on, and I hope you feel that I can be the same for you when you need it. Beyond all of this sappy crap, you’re seriously a force to be reckoned with. I know this year was tough for you in music [seriously why would they put a flutist in a choir, Schulich wyd??], you have the ability, and the perseverance to do absolutely anything that you want. I actually can’t wait to see what the future holds for you because whatever it is you end up doing, you’re GOING to dominate, no doubt in my mind. Your section would be incomplete without a mention of all of your catchphrases so here we go: what are we gonna eat NOW, wait why’d the mood change, L-O-L, sAAAd, I have received communications from Mr. McIntosh, you want some cUHrry, im JOKING im joking, gUUUYS, senAAAAAAH, waaow, in FAAAACT, the power of seven theorem states, that’s a fallacy, what’re you gonna do gIRL, OPE, wait why’d you look down, I’m on a diet, let’s get the gOO, knowing me knowing you ahah, chef?, I’m in mUsic, now wHaaat are you doing, bwaaaaaah, ooooozgayyy, weeeeeelll??, heeeeet [hoot hoot], schWWIIING, the sweet meats, motion, notice, stOP gUYS, eeeeeYeaaah, Kaaaaaasssidyyyy Michael saaaaaiddd, heLLO, just a petit quelque chose, I am holding a notice in my left paw, proceed in B flat minor. Nest don’t punish me for forgetting a bunch, he’s a very quotable boy.

Your song was already mentioned in this post, and I believe it is very fitting Knowing Me, Knowing You [ahaaaah]. Anything ABBA will remind me of you and Michael instantly, for obvious reasons, but I chose this song because it became one of your catchphrases and I think it suits the two of us the best [you know me all too well].

To Shishtar:

I get to tell you all of the things I love about you everyday next year in our cute little apartment hehe. But of course I will give you your space here as well. I am proud to be the first fluent speaker of Sennish [other than the creator herself]. I know Arvind and Michael give you a hard time, but they just don’t get you like I do. I hope you don’t mind that I totally latched to you during frosh, but I think it worked out well for both of us, what do you think? If you go back and read some of my first posts, it was all Sena all the time. I can’t wait to live with you in just a few months. It going to be like having slumber parties every night, and oh my the DECORATING! I had so much fun every single time we went out together [that might be trouble hehe] you’ll always be my best dance partner. I know that no matter what I’m feeling I can go to you and trust that you’ll feed that emotion back to me. If I want to laugh, you’re in, if I want to cry, you pull up the audition videos, it’s really a good set up we’ve got going. I want you to know I will always always always be here for you. If a shishtar is in need, a shishtar is here for her, those are the rules. I just know we have so much in store for us and our friendship and I can’t wait to do it all. I feel like you’re the friend that I can adventure with, you’ll never turn down a good time [unless you’ve already drank too much and can’t make it out lmaoooo]. I’m so happy that we raised our worm babies together, even if that experiment was VERY questionable! I wonder how they’re doing now actually, probably thriving. Let’s not carry soil back from across the city again though, that was not too much fun. I will now go into some roommate vows. As your roommate I pledge to always repeat myself when you say wait..WHAT?, and only get annoyed at it sometimes. I promise to cook you breakfast when I get the chance, and more importantly, teach you to cook some things other than “thin meat” and “cubed chicken” because that has to be a crime. I promise not to force you to every bafe tuesday [only some], and to help you study when you need it. There’s more, but I’m sure we’ll cross those bridges when we come to them. I can’t wait to take the next step in our friendship, even if our landlords are trash. We’ll manage. [AND I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE THE JONAS BROTHERS WHAT THE HECK]

The song that I chose for you may be surprising, because it is not a Sena song. I picked Electric Avenue, because of that one Cafe Campus tuesday that we went to. One of the first songs that came on that night that got us bopping was electric avenue [which I captured on video]. I just know that I’ll never be able to hear that song without thinking of you and that night, even if it ended with us running full speed in the wrong direction!

To Michael:

We all know how much I love you, but I guess I’ll try to scratch the surface with words. Not that your ego needs to be stroked any more than it already is, you are definitely one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. You somehow just know so many things and you are able to talk intelligently about virtually anything. I don’t know why, but you seem like a completely different person now than from when I first met you. I still remember us wandering around together at RezFest, going back up for more samosas [eyeeeah], but to be completely honest I didn’t think that we would really become friends. That day I kind of felt like I was a placeholder until you found the people who you actually wanted to be friends with, which sounds sad as I write it, but I was happy to be that. Much to my surprise, you stayed with me the whole day, and we hung out with almost everyone who would soon become the nest [first the dean’s list though hehe]. I’m absolutely honoured to be your friend, and honoured that we’ve shared so much with each other starting with beach day. You’re passionate. That’s something that I really admire. Even if nobody wants to hear it sometimes, there’s not a chance you’re shutting up about wave particle duality, and that’s something I respect [even if sometimes it drives me crazy] about you. You don’t give up easy either. Not getting into McGill didn’t stop you from coming here [yes I had to bring it up hahahaha], and that mentality drives you, which I have mad respect for. The fact that you can’t sing doesn’t stop you from spewing nonsense about the circle of fifths [hehehe right @Arvind?]. In all seriousness, you are more than aware that you mean so much to me, and I appreciate that you standby for my moments of existential crisis. You don’t give up on me even when I act insane and I am very thankful for that, because lots of friends would take a step back, but you persist. Your sarcasm and sass makes me laugh like no other. I know you’ll never stop making fun of me for knowing so much about astrology, but that’s so libra of you. Try not to be as much of a doormat living with Arvind as you were living with Grant [yes, you were a doormat, even at the end], although I’m sure Arvind won’t try to see how high he can pile his clothes, so you’re already ahead of the game. Oh I almost forgot! Thank you for helping me in my pescatarian adventures. Having someone else so close to me live the same lifestyle really helped me out, especially every time Arvind ordered chicken wings. Along the same lines, thanks for always backing me up on my environmental speeches to not only the nest, but in council too. Just like I said with everyone else, I can’t wait to make even more memories with you, and I hope that you’re in my life for a long long time, because I don’t know what I would do without you!

No surprises here, the song that reminds me of you is The Chain, although this might as well be any Fleetwood Mac song. This is unrelated but just so you know, my gramma just said “there’s chippy” as a chipmunk ran around the backyard and I thought that that was an odd coincidence. But yes, listen to the wind blow [insert incredible bass line].

To Anna:

My dear sweet Anna. I’m not crying you’re crying!! You have kept my life interesting from literally the moment I met you. Please go back and read one of my first posts from the first night when you went on about your boy troubles, what a night. From that moment on you’ve filled my life with so many interesting and emotional moments. I think that everyone remembers the night that you said that this friendship probably won’t even last a month, and look at us now baby. We all have gone through so much this year as a group, and I know that a lot of that had a huge impact on you. You may be small, but by god are you tough girl. The amount of bullshit that you have gone through this year is remarkable, but you’ve never given up on any of us. You and I have gone through our fair share of trouble, but never once did I question that we would resolve whatever it was and be stronger than ever. We both confront problems the same way, so that means that whatever the problem is, it will be solved in record breaking time. You’re the one person who I always go to with the hot gossip and I feel like we could actually talk for hours about nothing. But for real back to the toughness thing, you endure so much. You’re very independent by nature, but it always surprises me that you are able to stay alone so far away from everyone. You have done so much for me this year and I doubt you even know it. I feel like you always understand whatever it is that I’m going through better than anyone else. I won’t forget the time in my room that we literally just read each other our poetry and cried on each others shoulders. You can sniff out when I’m upset and you’re so good at comforting me and making me feel loved. Okay I was joking before, but I seriously am crying now. It was so hard for me to leave your room particularly because I feel like I was safest to be myself in there. We spent so much time in 503 that it was my home away from home. You also always gas me up?? Like thank you girl because you know that sometimes I need that validation! I always trust you for that fashion advice because you shop so much that you must know what looks good by now [hehehe]. For real though, you’re so incredibly beautiful inside and out and I’m so proud to call you my friend. You’re simultaneously like my daughter, sister, sometimes my mom and always my best friend and that’s quite remarkable I’d say. Stop doubting how smart you are! You are doing great just where you are, you’re meant to do this, don’t let anyone tell you different. You’re strong. I literally can not wait to share every single little thing with you the moment it happens, so if you don’t mind, I would love to do just that for a long long time.

My song for you is one from our girl dodie, it’s Human. Every time I hear this song it brings me back to the two of us sitting in your room just feeling the feels. The lyrics are true. Paint me in trust, I’ll be your best friend. Love you so much my tiny little friend.

Okay that concludes the sappy letters to my best friends. I’m sure you’re tired of reading at this point, and I’m tired of writing, so to finish off this blog post I thought I would let a video fill in the blanks. For those of you who don’t know, I have been taking a one second video every day since October of 2017. This has turned into an amazing way for me to look back on the memories made throughout the years. So here is my collection of one seconds for my year in Montreal, starting with move in day!

youtube

Thank you for keeping up with me this year, even though I totally slacked on writing these posts. Long story short, I’m absolutely in love with Montreal, and with McGill. So thank you for caring and staying tuned for the Thrilla in McGilla, catch ya next year!

1 note · View note