#you get to know sterling a bit better (and maybe understand him a bit better too) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aggravatetheaxe · 3 years

Note

Hey! Saw your post and saw you said you were upsettie spaghetti so I wanted to cheer you up!

Slashers who stop everything they’re doing because their “My S/O needs me” senses are tingling and go to their rescue to comfort their angry s/o?

I was hoping to come up with A way for you to get your emotions out through your writing- 😅

Hope you feel better! 🖤

I've never done a post in this style before so hopefully I do okay! I think I covered pretty much all the slashers I write for so far (I didn't do Billy Lenz because I still need to read the novelization). I may have gone way overboard, so if I do these in the future, I'll probably just pick a few instead of doing the whole roster 😅 (or you can pick for me). But doing this much work did distract me!

Above the cut:

Bo Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

Lester Sinclair

Included below the cut:

Michael Myers (OG)

Jason Voorhees

Leslie Vernon

Thomas Hewitt

Bubba Sawyer

Brahms Heelshire

Erik ("The Phantom")

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Courtney Dwayne Delmont (OC slasher)

Kathleen Montgomery (OC slasher)

Masterlist

***

Bo Sinclair

Despite being autistic, Bo is very in tune with peoples auras and body language. He has to be to manipulate and deceive people with any modicum of success. He's trained himself when it comes to these things; even besides masking or manipulation, he needed to be keenly aware of when his parents were in Bad Moods so he could either avoid them or prepare himself.

The mood he's probably best at when it comes to this, for those reasons, is anger. He can smell anger a mile away. So if you're fuming, you better believe he notices.

At first he's annoyed and will demand to know what your problem is. He's not a very tolerant person, and he can be a bit of a hypocrite. He's allowed to have big, messy feelings, but when it comes to others having big, messy feelings ... he's not so comfortable with that. He gets overwhelmed.

Once he realizes that this is more than an attitude problem, he'll take it much more seriously. And assuming you're not mad at him, he'll want the rundown on the whole situation from beginning to end. He wants all the dirt.

He'll let you rant, and honestly, he'd think you being this angry (when it's not directed at him, but even still sometimes) is kind of sexy. And don't expect him to shut his mouth, either; he'll be ranting right along with you, affirming you and insulting whomever/whatever you're angry about.

He doesn't wanna cuddle. He genuinely thinks you can't cuddle anger away. He'll put on some loud-ass music and let you vent your frustration however you prefer. Maybe suggest a long drive down to the lake or into town or just ... picking a direction and going. He has fantasies of running away from his anger sometimes. He knows how it is.

Depending on what you're angry about, it could definitely get to the point where he's angrier about the situation than you are. And if it really hurt you, he will not let it go as long as he lives. The best he will ever do is maintain a grudging neutrality or distance from the person/situation that made you angry.

He's very protective. If you're angry at someone you need to maintain a relationship with, you're going to have to keep an eye on Bo to make sure he doesn't deliver revenge for you behind your back. If it's something he can solve, he'll do it, so if you don't want him running his mouth, watch him.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent is in the same boat as Bo when it comes to sensing auras, though his handle on body language and facial expressions is not as keenly honed. While Vincent was not physically abused as brutally or as often as Bo, this wasn't because of some sterling quality he had that Bo lacked. He was always The Good One because he saw what his parents did to The Bad One and knew he needed to protect himself. He tried not to do anything that might provoke his parents.

You can feel anger before a fight like you smell ozone before a storm. Vincent is attuned to the feeling not just because of his parents but because of Bo's temper, too. Because of this, like Bo, he can very accurately sense anger in particular.

His initial reaction is to observe you, gauging if you need time to cool off. If you need space, Vincent is the Sinclair for you. He's used to being quiet and deflecting and riding out anger.

However, once he realizes that your anger is not directed at him or isn't explosive enough to become a problem for him, he's concerned. Rather than asking what happened, he will ask if you're okay, and leave it up to you whether you'll tell him about it or not.

If you vent, he'll sit and listen patiently, maybe even thoughtfully working on a sculpture while you rant. He's not judgemental and he can be very emotional himself, so you could say the most ridiculous, dramatic things and he wouldn't even bat an eye. Let out all your messy, destructive thoughts and feelings. Just try not to throw or punch anything; that's when he shuts down.

If you decide you just want comfort, or decide you need comfort after ranting, art is his first suggestion. It may seem cold to you at first, that his instinct isn't to hold you or kiss you but rather to redirect you to a project - once you got to know him, however, you'd know that's his most genuine way to show he cares. Redirecting to something creative calms him down more than platitudes ever could, and he wants that for you. He's nonjudgmental about the art you create as well, even if it's objectively terrible. It's not about the quality.

He won't turn you down if you need physical affection, however. His twin is extremely tactile, so it wouldn't be the first time he held someone after a breakdown. He prefers to do this if he's certain you won't lash out physically, but if you were in a really bad way and needed to be touched, he'd do it regardless.

Lester Sinclair

Lester witnessed his parents' anger, but it was usually indirectly; if Bo was the Bad One and Vincent was the Good One, he was the Overlooked One. He's not a perfect person, probably not even a good person, but of the three brothers, he's the most normally socialized. He isn't trained to be tuned into everyone's every shifting mood in order to survive.

It takes Lester a little longer to pick up on your anger than his brothers, but not too much longer. It takes him a couple tries at trying to talk to you or get your attention before he realizes something is really wrong.

His first reaction is to get upset. He soaks up emotions like a little sponge, so he's suddenly cranky, too. He also jumps to conclusions and assumes that you're angry with him, and he does not take rejection well. He might be bitter and passive aggressive. You being angry just makes him want to go in another room and not be around you, and yet at the same time, he wants your reassurances. It's messy and sad.

Once he realizes - either through observing you or through you communicating with him - that you're mad at another person or situation, then he'll feel comfortable enough to approach you and ask you about it. You'll definitely need to reassure him that you're not mad at him though.

If you wanna rant, he'll take you on a long drive and let you vent your heart out to him. He won't be quite as aggressive as Bo, but he'll be on your side, frowning with disapproval, telling you "Ya can't fix stupid." If you want only comfort or need comfort after venting, he feels much more equipped for that. He'll put something relaxing in the VHS or let you play his old Super Nintendo, get you a beer, just let you chill out. And he'll let you win at Doctor Mario.

If the situation is something really serious, you best believe he'll be talking to his brothers about it the second he gets a chance. He may be a sweet guy, but he can be real nasty, and he doesn't fuck around when it comes to you. You might have to keep an eye out to make sure he doesn't tell someone off or punch out someone's lights.

Michael Myers (OG)

In 1978, Michael is not very in tune with any emotions besides fear, and even then he only really understands it in an abstract way, as his condition and upbringing haven't really been conducive to him learning about emotions. Unless you're screaming in terror, have tears running down your face, or are shouting angrily, he really can't read your moods. Without any obvious change to how you normally act or look, there's a huge chance he might just not notice if you're angry. He spends a lot of time in his own little world.

In 2018, even though he's spent over 50 years institutionalized, Michael has had time to take in the world, and he's seen a lot more. He understands fear much more than he did when he was 21, but what he understands most of all is anger. His anger fuels him. He would pick up on yours right away and be curious, though he wouldn't verbalize it.

If you tell him how you feel, he'll take note of it. If he witnesses you doing something destructive because of your anger, he'll simply observe. He would be fascinated with this thing you're doing, because it's not something you normally do, and though he might not notice emotions, he certainly notices routine and pattern. Either way, you'll have to tell him how you feel, because he'll simply watch you otherwise.

One thing that can be said for Michael is that he's a good listener. He may not internalize everything you say, but he will remember what he thinks is important. You may be surprised; he may remember tiny little details that seem inconsequential to you but loom large in his mind.

Unless you were caused serious physical or mental harm, he would not be angry on your behalf. He would, however, do nothing to assuage your anger. He thinks it would be kinda neat and interesting to see you snap. He's not 100% sure why you don't just do it.

In 1978, he won't be much help beyond listening to you, but he would be curious to see what you do to vent your anger. You may find him by your side more often, observing you. He may also want to find and observe the object of your anger, especially if it's a person. In 2018, he would, in his own way, suggest you solve the problem by murdering someone/something. He's insatiable, but killing is the closest he's ever come to satisfaction. You should try it.

Jason Voorhees

Out of all of the slashers, Jason is the most likely to actually literally sense your anger, especially if you're psychically sensitive/powerful like Tina Shepard. I'm talkin'—assuming you have a pre-established relationship—he'll be doing something else and just get this itch that tells him you're out there somewhere, pissed off.

Obviously this is untenable. As long as he's not super busy or Pamela has other plans, Jason will stomp his way through the woods to get back to you, regardless of the urgency of your anger. If Pamela doesn't approve, well, he'll let a little anger go and assume you're okay. If he suspects you may be in danger, though, he's sprinting regardless of what Mom says. There's time for both things, Ma!

The first thing he'll do when he returns to you is scan your dwelling, then you, making sure nothing is broken. At that point, you'd probably be able to sense his confusion even without him signing. Jason doesn't experience emotions quite like a human anymore, and he's quite tactile besides, so a lack of tangible or visible clues as to why you're upset would trip him up for a second.

He doesn't want to comfort you at first, he wants to know what's wrong. He'll listen to you vent only long enough to understand the situation and identify his target. His immediate next move would be to eliminate the problem. You'll definitely have to hold him back, and it may take a bit of convincing. Earthly consequences don't really apply to him.

Before comfort comes blowing off steam, for you and for him. His first choices would be mangling some trees (you can pretend it's for firewood) or skipping/throwing stones into the lake. You're welcome to join him if those things calm you down; watching him get his stone to skip like 11 times on Crystal Lake may make you feel better, at least.

You might hang out there for hours before he suddenly decides it's time to go home. He'll do what he can to make your comfortable or stay out of your way while you make yourself comfortable, then comfort you as you please. His go-to choice is always foot or hand massages.

Leslie Vernon

Leslie is extremely observant and surprisingly analytical given how silly he is in the day to day. His intuition makes it pretty easy for him to read people, but especially you, since you two are so close. Especially-especially if you're his Survivor Girl (gender neutral term of course). You two are in sync, so he knows if something's up. Maybe even before you fully figure it out.

God, you're so hot when you're angry, you really are. He almost wants to let you scream and holler and go nuts. But he prefers you only get angry like that at him, especially if you're his Survivor Girl, so his first move is to comfort you or talk you down to a place where you can be comforted. He'll speak to you calmly and rationally, reassuring you and touching you if you wanna be touched—on your upper arms or shoulders or face, or with one arm around your back.

He doesn't just want to comfort you, though, he wants to calm you down enough that you can tell him what happened. Even if you claim you don't want to talk about it, he will coax it out of you eventually. He's gotta know what got you so upset. It's his business to know everything about you!

Assuming you're angry at someone/something that isn't him, he'll talk it through with you. If you're upset about an argument with someone, he has the capacity to see it from the other side, but ultimately, he's there for you. He'll let you bitch as much as you want, still touching you, and he'll be disgusted and/or disappointed with the situation.

Above all, though, what he wants is to see you smile again. The only worries on your mind should be the ones he comes up with, and man, he's not even halfway done grooming the next batch of unlucky teenagers. He'd pat your face or touch your hair and tell you to cheer up, and probably defuse the situation with a stupid quip or joke. Take you out somewhere fun, maybe.

Once you were cheered up, he'd humbly suggest you solve your problem with a little murder. "I mean, I know killing's not really your thing—you're really good at it, though, a talent! You know that..." Pause, considering you. "You want me to do it? 'Cause I can clear my schedule for the rest of the night." If you decline, he'd be like "Suit yourself" but may or may not still murder whoever upset you. If you agree, he'd be super excited to make a romantic night of it. His mind would be going a million miles an hour planning everything out.

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy knows anger when he sees it. Not only does he have loads of internalized anger, he's been on the receiving end of it plenty. He's far too large to be scared of anyone in a physical sense anymore, but he's been shouted at countless times. To know when to shut up and do as he's told versus arguing back, he's learned to gauge intensity and direction of anger, and he well knows that anger can be redirected to him.

So, he instantly recognizes your mood, but it might be a while before he approaches you. When he does approach, he'll let you decide what to do, whether that's throwing your arms around him or banging your fists on his chest to vent your anger. You won't hurt him.

Eventually, once you're all hugged or cried or screamed out, he'll wrap his arms around you and give you a reassuring squeeze. There's no need to tell Tommy what's wrong—he won't ask unless you're obviously in serious distress or injured—but if you decide to speak, he'll listen, brows drawn tightly the whole time. He's thoughtful about the situation.

If you're mad at someone in his family, there isn't much he can do for you besides comfort you and assure you that whoever upset you—Hoyt, probably—didn't mean what they said. If you were hurt physically, it would be another story, but his family gets in shouting matches all the time.

Rather than offering help, he'd wait for you to request it of him. Whatever you ask, shy of hurting his family, he will do. Murder someone? No problem. Make you some food? You got it. Bring you a blanket? Sure. Give you some quiet alone time? That's fine, too.

If you need to vent, he's got plenty of ways to get out your frustration. Plenty of farm work to do, or you could work on something around the house with him. He might suggest knitting or sewing or some other handicraft you enjoy. It always makes him feel better to buckle down and use his hands for something.

If you're still preoccupied/upset by the time you two bed down, or heaven forbid the next morning, then he starts taking it more seriously. Something that disturbs you for that long is bad news. He'll watch you carefully the next couple days to see how you're doing, waiting for you to need him for something.

Bubba Sawyer

Like Tommy, Bubba has been on the receiving end of anger many, many times, so he's familiar with what it looks and feels like. Despite his size, he's still susceptible to physical violence at the hands of his loved ones, so he's very wary of anger.

However, he doesn't have a female presence in his life like Luda Mae, who expresses her anger through passive aggression—so, he's more used to shouting and screaming. If you aren't prone to screaming and shouting, it might take a little bit for him to realize you're not just sad or upset, you're angry.

Bubba will be over you. He'd give anyone else their space because he'd be afraid of retaliation, but you're his special person, and he's pretty sure you're not going to hurt him. He'll touch your hair, your arms, your wrists; he'll babble as he tries to figure out what's wrong. He just wants to comfort you and let you know everything is all right.

If it's too much or you're overwhelmed and you snap at him, he'll ease back. He'll blubber like a kicked puppy, but he won't give up. He'll still try to comfort you, just in other ways, such as getting you a comfort item or article of clothing, or maybe some food. And boy will he helicopter.

There's no need to tell Bubba what's wrong. In fact, it might be better if you didn't; if it's something he can't fix, it would do nothing but majorly stress him out. If it was one of his family members who upset you, as with Tommy, he wouldn't be able to do much. Even if you were hurt, he's just not in a position to stand up for you. That fact would absolutely kill him, though. He'd end up getting even more upset than you.

He doesn't know what help to offer you beyond comfort, but like Tommy, if you requested something specific, he'd try to carry out your wishes. He'll also try to cheer you up with some music and dancing, or just being silly like you like.

Need to blow off steam? He's got plenty of coping mechanisms! Bubba's idea of a perfect de-stress session is turning up the radio and getting lost in crafts. He's got lots of supplies, mostly to create clothing and accessories, and you're special, so you can have your pick. A drive and the radio might be nice, too. If neither of those appeal to you, he'll try cooking or baking with you. He loves sharing the kitchen with someone.

If none of that works and you're still upset, be prepared, because he's gonna be an anxious mess until you're better.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is somewhat familiar with other people's anger. He certainly has a whole fountain of internalized anger brewing just beneath the surface, but that's different. He knows that when Mummy is angry, she yells and cries, and when Daddy is angry, he seethes and stews. The former would be obvious to him, but the latter would take him a few minutes to be quite sure about. You're not acting how you usually do. Are you being stern or are you angry? Are you cross with him?

He does not have a lot of empathy for other people, so if your anger gets in the way of his routine or the attention he wants, he'll be irked, cranky, sad. Not necessarily at you—though that is possible—but the situation in which you find yourselves.

Much like Bo, he's allowed to have big, messy feelings, but it makes him uncomfortable and scared when other people have those feelings. He might even hide from you for a while, especially if you screamed and cried.

Once he realizes something is really wrong and you're not mad at him, however, he'll start thinking of ways to cheer you up so things can go back to normal. He hates having his routine interrupted; he's very particular. And he cares for you, so seeing you in distress is very scary and uncomfortable for him.

He'll start by fetching you something you like—something manageable for him like your favorite juice or a sandwich, or if you have a special item or article of clothing, that. He's quite shy, though, and like I said, he'll probably be hiding, so he'll leave it somewhere he knows you'll find it (on the bed, outside your door, on your desk, etc.)

If that doesn't calm you down and your anger is really getting in the way of his routine, or otherwise making him uncomfortable, he'll finally make an appearance. Very bashful and timid at first, using his little boy voice. "What's wrong, Y/N? Did something bad happen?"

If it's something that can't be helped, he'll suggest you do something together to take your mind off it (most likely something he likes to do). He may even be coaxed into taking a walk around the grounds, though he doesn't like to leave the manor at all, so you'd have to convince him. He prefers quiet playtime, maybe some coloring books or loud music to vent your emotions. It would intrigue him to see someone else use his toys to calm down. As long as you recognized he was being very nice, sharing them.

If it was an argument you had with someone, he would want more information. Are they likely to leave you alone, or will they come to the manor? Will he have to deal with them? Because it's scary, but he'll do it for you.

If, for some reason, none of those things work, he may cry or throw a fit. Either way, he'll be frustrated. Adult Brahms may make an appearance and try to help you in more Adult ways.

Erik

Though he lives five cellars beneath an opera house now, Erik hasn't always been entirely reclusive. Even these days, when he can stomach it, he sometimes goes out to see the world. As a younger man, he observed people's lives and moods with a hungry fascination (that has now mostly been replaced by melancholy and longing and bitter anger). Like several of the other slashers here, he's had to train himself to sense fury to protect himself. He's also incredibly wrathful, so you could call him an expert!

He has a very keenly honed sense when it comes to you specifically, since he's watched you so much. He notices the change in your demeanor immediately.

If you know him as the "Angel of Music," his voice will appear to you once you're alone, asking you what's wrong and assuring you you can confide in him—he will insist you tell him, though. "There are to be no secrets between us, Y/N." He will listen without interjection as you vent your heart out, and when you're done, soothe you. Don't let his calming voice deceive you, though; behind that mirror, he's seething, planning to take matters into his own hands.

If you know him as Erik, he will go to you the second he recognizes the shift in your mood and take you from what you're doing, regardless of your wishes. He'll sit you down, kneeling before you with your hands in his, and gaze into your eyes, imploring you to tell him what's wrong. He'll absolutely allow you physical comfort, but he will also absolutely insist you tell. He'll need reassurance that you're not angry at him, because that thought would break his heart.

He will let you vent however you wish. You could have the most dramatic breakdown ever—throwing things, beating your fists on his chest, wailing—and he wouldn't judge you. He would be awfully concerned, though.

Will be 110% on your side. You are his poor little meow meow. "My poor love, my poor Y/N!" He is beside himself with sympathy for you and you only, and is very offended on your behalf.

He will always suggest music as an outlet for your anger, but he will have taken note of your other hobbies and interests as well. He'll fetch your things for you without being asked, as long as it won't separate him from you for very long. If you'd rather just have comfort, that's fine, too. He could hold your hand and caress your face for hours on end under normal circumstances, so no problem there. He may also suggest a little time on the surface, if you normally live in his home. Fresh air will do you both good, he reasons, and he enjoys spending time with you where others can witness it. It fills him with pride and love.

Otherwise, he's at your service for any other soothing activities you need. A calming bath, some sweets, shopping, anything. Perhaps avoid asking for any sexual contact, however. First of all, being asked directly makes him very skittish and nervous; second of all, his method of love-making (when you can coax him) is very intimate and tender, which may be tedious if you're in an angry mood.

Unless the situation is extremely serious or dire, his first priority is making sure you're soothed. Once that duty is fulfilled, however, he is absolutely angrier about it than you are. If it's not that serious, he won't skip straight to killing, if only because he knows it upsets you. He will definitely be writing an extremely strongly worded letter, however. If someone slighted you seriously, they're getting threatened. If someone hurt you physically, they're meeting the Punjab lasso.

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Deacon definitely knows when people are angry. His step-mom was a passive-aggressive laundry-folder and his dad was a storming out of the house kinda guy; when the two of them were together, they were all hushed but heated arguments at night when they thought he couldn't hear them, or else extremely embarrassing passive-aggressive arguments in public. Growing up, he found himself around a lot of angry people. And there's no shortage of anger in him, either.

So yeah, Deacon knows when people are pissed, and he knows when people are pissed at him. The thing is, he just thinks it's fucking hilarious. He was that kid that would goad peers and teachers just to be an asshole and had virtually no friends as a result. He's a menace on the internet, too: a horrible troll for no reason, stirring the pot even when he doesn't have a stake in the argument. He's trained himself to find people's weak spots so he can strike at them. He does it to make himself feel more in control of his life and his own anger.

So when you're ticked off, he's gonna notice the change immediately. If you made a vent post on social media, he probably knows you're angry before you even see him. He follows all your social media (even if you don't realize it) and checks it constantly. He'd call you out of curiosity to ask what happened. He's open about his stalking tendencies: "I saw your post, babe, who do I need to stab?"

If you otherwise come home angry, he'll be up on his feet, following you around the house and pestering you, trying to get you to tell him what's wrong. If you try to hug him, he won't push you away, but he'll be distracted, trying to needle answers out of you the whole time.

There's no question in his mind as to whether or not you're angry at him. He just assumes you're not; he has a pretty good handle on how you act when you're angry at him specifically.

He'll let you rant all day if you want. You could talk about the shit that's pissed you off for hours and he'd still listen. Outwardly, he might poke you a bit and play devil's advocate for the other side of the argument, if there is one. This is purely for the purposes of being a little shit.

Internally, he's already going down his pre-murder checklist. If it was someone at work, they're dead. Someone in the neighborhood, dead. Online? It'll take a couple days, but they're dead. Even if you're not angry at anyone in particular, just a situation, he'll find someone to menace. He'd walk through fire for your approval.

He's not good with soft, emotional comfort, so instead he'll try to think of something to help you let off steam. His go-to is something competitive, especially if it involves you chasing each other. A Nerf or water gun war, a PVP game with you on opposite sides. He'll put up a good fight, but you always kick his ass.

Once the immediate situation is addressed and you've ranted your heart out to him, he can't keep his hands off you. "Seeing you all pissed off drives me crazyyyyyy." He's grinning, brown eyes sparkling. "Come onnnnn ... I'll get it off your mind!"

Courtney Dwayne Delmont (OC)

Courtney is a hunter of all manner of game, so he's used to interpreting non-verbal cues and body language—when an animal is in distress, when an animal is about to attack, etc. His grandfather was a very angry man, as well, in a simmering sort of way. He would seethe about something before suddenly delivering one decisive strike. Courtney himself is not a particularly angry man, unless some prey is really giving him a hard time, but he can read your body.

If you come home angry, he'll stop in the middle of what he's doing and watch you, still and quiet, just confirming his suspicions. If you leave the room he's in to go collapse on the sofa or something, he'll follow you, looming over you and waiting for you to tell him what's wrong. He's patient.

If you want to vent, he'll sit and listen thoughtfully, doing something with his hands while you speak—probably cleaning his gun or some other weapon. He doesn't look at you. He wouldn't demand greater context to the situation but he would ask "Why?" and "Who?" until he understood Enough.

If you want comfort, he'll sprawl on the couch and let you lay on top of him. He'll probably pull a blanket on top of you to try and encourage a nap. If the nap doesn't make you feel better, he's feeding you protein. Do you like homemade jerky?

Sex is also on the table (not literally ... unless). He's found it's a great way to blow off steam, and he's more than happy to make all worries, troubles, and other thoughts go away for a little bit. Expect that to be the rest of your night, though, because he doesn't do quickies.

Generally, he trusts you to handle your own shit, so he would be more focused on you than whatever made you feel the way you do. However, if days passed and you were still angry/upset/sad, or if it plunged you into a breakdown or was an otherwise extremely serious situation ... just give him a target. It's up to you, but if you tell him to take the shot, it'll be quick and clean. If you're unable to make the decision, he'll decide for you without hesitation.

Kathleen Montgomery (OC)

I'm still developing her so this one won't be as in-depth and is subject to change.

Kath makes it her business to know everything about you. Chances are she's seen you explode screaming while stalking you ... chances are, if you've been in a relationship for a while, she's made you explode screaming. She knows what you look like when you're angry. Besides, she's strong for her size, but she often has to take down people who are much bigger and stronger than her; she uses manipulation and trickery to help ease that divide, so she's good at reading people.

Like Deacon, she also monitors all your social media, so if you made a vent post, she already knows you're in a shitty mood before you come home. Unlike Deacon, she doesn't tell you how she knows, so you're left to assume she's just all knowing. Considering her god complex, that works for her.

She'd probably text you to come home, and she expects you to answer. If you're unable to come home, she'll call you to ask what's wrong.

Once you're together, she wants to know everything about the situation. Even as you're speaking, she's already on her phone or laptop, looking up the people involved. Instead of getting mad on your behalf, she laughs. She's a fan of emphasizing how pathetic or weak the opposition is.

She takes your feelings on the subject seriously, but everyone else in the situation? Insects. Not even worthy of your time or concern, let alone hers. You're obviously in the right here (even if you're not). She'll tell you as much, and say some pretty intense, over-the-line things about whomever/whatever you're angry at.

Overall, however, she's calm and collected about the situation. Your bout of anger is a chance to get you to be reckless with her. She'll do your hair and makeup and dress you up nice, then take you out. Fast driving, drinking, baiting people at bars, menacing neighborhoods ... maybe a little killing, if you'd like.

***

Masterlist

421 notes · View notes

sevlgi · 3 years

Text

what we want

requested: yes x2

group: blackpink

pairing: jennie x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

contents: idol!jennie, idol!reader, pr relationship

warnings: none

synopsis: Jennie’s lost herself somewhere along the way of achieving her dream. Behind that tough, cruel mask of hers, she doesn’t know what she wants, and maybe uncovering the mask you wear is what will help her realize it.

a/n: this is so much heavier than either of you guys asked for asalknasdfkj... but i wrote my longest fic yet in less than 2 days!!!! i think that’s an achievement :D

word count: 6k

Kim Jennie did not have a good reputation, and she didn’t really give a shit about it.

At least, that’s what everyone thought. That’s what everyone knew, with the numerous articles a week about South Korea’s resident fuckgirl, with Dispatch’s 20 cameramen hired just to follow Jennie. She was careless, she was cold, and she care what anyone else said about her.

What no one cared about was Jennie’s reasoning. Because while the first time sneaking out to a club and losing herself in fruit-flavored shots and skimming touches was simply for the fun of it, it was the aftereffect that made her keep going. Because with the articles of Kim Jennie’s newest scandal, Blackpink’s album sales shot through the roof, YG’s stocks completely flipped around, and Jennie herself decided it was worth it. It didn’t matter if her members looked at her a little differently, like they didn’t recognize her, or if she was the only one constantly excluded from appreciation tweets on Twitter. If acting out would help promote them more than her agency ever did, she could do it.

And she did. For almost a year, Jennie became Kpop’s most well-known idol, for better or for worse. For almost a year, Blackpink’s sales were unmatched by any group or artist around the world and Jennie couldn’t read her Instagram comments without wanting to throw up.

It took a year for YGE to finally do something, and by then, Jennie wasn’t sure she particularly cared anymore.

“Jennie.”

“Youngshik.” Her voice was scarily steady and her face just as calm; Jennie knew that the her from ten years ago, the teenager who was accepted into the company under Youngshik’s watch, wouldn’t be able to recognize her as she sat before the man with crossed arms and a blank expression. But as he stared at her with disappointment glazing his eyes, Jennie lifted her chin higher, almost daring him to speak.

When he did, he sounded almost cautious of his words. “Jennie, I know you. This isn’t like you at all, you can’t carry on like this.”

“What do you know about me?” She had to keep herself from wincing at her own tone, sharp enough to draw blood. “Huh? You haven’t cared about me for the past year, haven’t cared about us. And who the fuck said I can’t carry on? I’m doing just fine.”

Youngshik shook his head. “Please. Ch-- your members know. I know. All you may see right now is the attention you’re gaining, the fleeting ecstasy you get every night, but you aren’t doing yourself any favors right now.”

As much as she hated it, Youngshik’s words cut deep. She wanted to scream out that she was doing this for her members, for the company, and that it didn’t matter what her reputation was like, but Jennie schooled herself into the person everyone believed and knew her to be. “I’m the only thing keeping you afloat right now. You’re wasting them-- Chaeng, Lisa, Jisoo. They keep practicing but you waste them. I’m only doing what you won’t,” Jennie defended herself, anger seeping into her voice at the thought of her members.

“Jennie. MNet has threatened to drop you from the next season of Queendom.” The man’s voice was quiet but deadly, and Jennie couldn’t seem to open her mouth at the thought of her members’ practice being wasted because of her. Youngshik took that as a sign to continue, “I realize that what you’re doing is increasing sales, but netizens hate you right now. You know that, don’t you? We’re trying to help.”

“Oh yeah? How’re you going to help?” Jennie sighed. “Lock me up in your dungeon again?”

“Quite the opposite,” he answered, leaning forward. “We’re going to keep you in check. The only thing that Dispatch likes more than clubbing scandals is leaked couples, and that’s what we’re going to give them.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back. “And how is that going to keep me in check? Dispatch already knows I like girls, giving me a well-behaved boyfriend isn’t going to be believable.’

Just as the words left her mouth, a knock sounded on the frosted glass pane in Youngshik’s office door, and the man stood. “You’ll see once you meet her.”

Her?

Jennie didn’t turn even when she heard the door open, or when Youngshik murmured, “Junho, thank you for coming.”

“Of course. This is her?”

“This is her. Jennie?”

She finally turned, face impassive, but Jennie couldn’t stop her eyes from widening when she saw the person standing in the doorway. You-- she recognized you, specifically the polite smile you wore on your face as you offered a handshake. She remembered hearing you be praised for your constant professionalism, your sterling reputation, and your bubbly personality. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m a big fan of yours.”

“Jennie Kim, but I’m assuming you already knew that,” she said by way of greeting. You nearly winced at her flat tone, but the mask remained on and you gingerly took the empty seat just by her. “So. Am I the only one in the dark here?”

“Not anymore,” Junho smiled. Unlike Youngshik, he looked pleasant, a smile crinkling at the side of his eyes, but Jennie disliked him nonetheless. “The two of you know by now that you’re being set up in a fake relationship. Jennie, YGE’s main concern with you is your reputation. You club, you drink, you... sleep with people.”

She simply nodded, waiting for the point. Youngshik jumped in, “Y/N, on the other hand, has a stellar reputation. Never has had a scandal in her career, except when she publicly came out, and even that had a good reception.”

“How nice,” Jennie deadpanned.

Junho sighed, folding his hands in his lap. “Miss Kim. Despite your shortcomings and the methods that you achieved such fame, you are nonetheless the most well known female idol in the world. From this relationship, you’ll gain stability as well as a cover, a perfectly sweet girlfriend who’ll lighten your image up. And Y/N will receive more attention by your side, exactly what we want for her and her group. Is that clear?”

Jennie wished she could say no-- after all, you obviously weren’t going to-- but she also knew that the two men were right. She could profit, achieve exactly what she was trying to do, but with less damage done to Blackpink’s image. And as much as she wished she could rebel, she found herself sighing through tightened lips. “Clear. I agree.”

“You didn’t exactly have a choice.” Still, Youngshik slid a contract and a pen across the table, and Jennie signed in the blank without a second glance. “Good. Though we realize that this relationship is fake, we want you to at least pretend to be in love, so get to know each other. It’ll be a while.”

“Great,” you sighed. Jennie was slightly surprised by the hint of sarcasm in your voice, but she lost interest when you assumed a polite smile yet again. “How do we do that?”

Junho exchanged a glance with Youngshik but answered by himself, “If it was me, I’d start with a coffee.”

“Can I order something for you?”

“I’m good.”

Your smile was tight, and Jennie wondered how many snide comments she could make before you snapped. But apparently, one wasn’t enough, as you tugged your mask up. “Okay. I’ll get something for you when you feel like it, just wait for me in that booth.”

Without something to argue about, Jennie could only obey, sliding into the booth furthest away from any people. She sighed, staring at the ceiling; she hated that you were being pushed into the contract to save her, and she hated even more that she was purposefully being so difficult for you to deal with. But the truth was that Jennie couldn’t let you keep her in check, couldn’t let you get under her skin or change her from the way that she had been for years. No matter what YGE said, she was succeeding, and she wasn’t having the worst time in the world while she did.

“Uh. I got you a green juice, I hope you don’t mind.”

Jennie stared at you as you slid the bottle over the table to her, removing your mask just to flash her an annoyingly sweet smile. “I didn’t ask for it.”

You shrugged, “Oh, I know. But I read somewhere that you liked green juices, and I didn’t feel right letting you- letting my girlfriend go without a drink.”

“Don’t call me that.” Jennie cleared her throat when she realized how cruel she sounded, and rephrased it softer. “Don’t.”

“Okay. I understand,” you mumbled, clasping your hands over the iced Americano you held. “So. When did we start dating?” When Jennie frowned in confusion, you clarified, “We’re supposed to have a believable, synced story, right? To seem more real?”

The other girl bit her lip but nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Would two months be enough?”

Jennie wanted to tell you to stop pursing your lips when you thought, wanted to make you stop looking so approachable and sweet when you were sitting across from the most-hated idol in Korea. But she shut herself up, if only not to offend someone who she’d be spending a lot of time with. “I think so. We could say that we met at the Gayo Daejeon, since that was three months ago. I asked for your number,” you hummed and pulled out a notepad. “And a month after becoming friends, you asked me on a date.”

“Why did I ask you on a date?” Jennie asked, eyebrows raised.

“I asked for your number, let’s keep it fair,” you answered with a slight chuckle. “Okay. What would you want to do on a date?”

She considered the question, tapping her nails against the table. “The Han River? Lots of people go in masks, so it’s possible for us to have gone without anyone seeing us. There’s food, nice scenery, we could take pictures--”

“You’re a real romantic, Kim Jennie,” you smiled, pen scratching against the paper of your notepad. “Okay. And we don’t live with each other, since you have a dorm... one of us has to be caught on the route between to make it believable.”

“I don’t think we have to.” Jennie crossed her arms, not moving even when you turned your notepad so she could see. “We just need to be seen in public together a couple times, hold hands once. Dispatch will eat it up.”

You sighed softly and tucked the notebook away. “Okay. At-- at least add me on Kakao. So we can communicate and stuff.”

She stood, tugging her jacket on and her hat down to hide her eyes. “Don’t have Kakao. Have a nice day, Y/N Y/L/N.”

And just like that, with a jingle of the front door’s bell, she was gone, and you could only stare at the untouched bottle of juice across from you or the glass door swinging closed.

Jennie liked practicing with her members. Of course she did-- there was no one she loved more than those 3 girls, and spending time with them was always exactly what she needed. And practice reminded her of better, simpler times: learning a new choreo with Lisa for the next evaluation, practicing English with Chaeng, or asking Jisoo for help with vocals. There were memories in the scratches on the floorboards of the practice rooms, and Jennie liked feeling them every time she stepped inside.

But besides that, it was a secure place. No Dispatch, no cameras, and certainly no PR stunt girlfriends. It was supposed to be her happy place, her home away from the dorm, and the last resort for time alone.

Of course, you had to change that.

“Jennie, Y/N’s here to see you.”

At the sound of her manager’s voice, Jennie’s ankle twisted and she fell to the ground, still panting from dancing. Jisoo bent down to help her up, Chaeyoung and Lisa stopping their practices too. “What?”

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head towards the hallway outside. “Your ‘girlfriend’. She’s here to see you.”

Lisa gasped at that, her head whipping towards Jennie. “Jennie unnie! You have a girlfriend? Since when?”

Jennie winced and waved Jisoo off before walking towards the door. “I... I’ll explain later. Don’t worry about it, keep practicing. I’ll catch up.”

As soon as she stepped outside, she found you standing there, your smile so wide, as if she hadn’t been so cold to you since the beginning. “Hi, Jennie.”

“Why’re you here?”

You barely faltered at the tone of her voice, holding out one of two bubble teas towards her. “I brought you boba, I thought you might need a rest from practicing. And don’t worry, Dispatch got the pictures they needed, I ‘forgot’ to put on a mask when I got out of the car just outside the building.”

Jennie sighed, but she accepted the offered cup anyway. She was thirsty; all she could hope was that you wouldn’t take it as a sign to keep coming to see her. “And? I thought we agreed that we only needed to be seen in public when our companies schedule it.”

“Well, I’m not just here for the PR,” you frowned. “You’re obviously opposed to actually dating me, or even from becoming friends with me, but it’ll be miserable if we’re both mean to each other. Let’s at least be civil, okay?”

Why? she wanted to ask. How? How can you be so positive even when faced with me? She pursed her lips, taking a sip of the drink. Somehow, you’d gotten her favorite flavor just right, and maybe the sugar rushing in her blood was what prompted her to say, “Civil. Sure. Thank you for the boba, Y/N.”

“Of course!” you grinned. You startled Jennie when you went to take your flannel off, even more so when you reached out to give it to her. “Here, take this.”

“Um. Why?”

Sighing jokingly, you pressed it into her hand. “Next time, you’re coming to see me. If you wear this while you’re caught on film, it’ll raise a lot of suspicions. Exactly what we want, right?”

Jennie nodded at that, closing her fist around the fabric. “Right. So, are you... planning to watch us practice?”

“Oh, no,” you shook your head, waving your hands. “No, I’ll probably just hang around. Unless you want me to?”

Some tiny, annoying section in the back of her mind wanted to say ‘yes’, but Jennie could hear Chaeyoung laughing in the practice room, and the thought of introducing you to her members wasn’t exactly appealing. “No. That’s okay. Thank you for stopping by,” she attempted a smile. Thankfully, you just bowed and waved goodbye again before turning around the corner, and Jennie relaxed with a sigh.

But your smile lingered in her mind. The first time she saw you, she thought it was genuine-- maybe you were just that polite, just that professional, even with how impossible it was. But talking to you on her own, she saw too many false grins, too much effort being put into keeping that likeable, fun personality up.

Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was lying, but that fact did nothing but scare her more.

“So. Are we gonna talk about Y/N?”

Jennie sighed, keeping her eyes on the road. “No.”

“Really? Because you didn’t exactly look happy after talking to the person who’s supposed to be your girlfriend.”

The rapper raised her eyebrows even though Jisoo couldn’t see it over the phone. “Well, she isn’t exactly my real girlfriend.”

In the background, Chaeyoung asked, “What? Then why did our manager say she was?”

“It’s a PR stunt,” Jennie said bluntly. Her manager sighed in the front seat but didn’t speak. “That’s it. Y/N has a good reputation, I don’t. I’m in the biggest girl group in the world, she isn’t. We’re benefiting from each other.”

Lisa groaned into the phone, her voice tinny over speaker. “Is that seriously it? I only heard you guys talking, but she’s trying so hard, and you’re shutting her down. It could be good for you, unnie.”

Jennie pinched her nosebridge and pleaded, “Can we please not talk about this? I’m just doing this-- it’s a PR stunt. Nothing else to it. I gotta go anyway.” She ended the call before anyone could say something, leaning back and pressing her hands to her eyes.

“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to this, Jennie.”

“Please. Shut up,” Jennie groaned, reaching for the flannel on her lap as the car lurched a stop. The smell of perfume swept over her as she tugged the clothing on, leaving her mask off but donning the sunglasses that she’d been paid to wear. “Thank you for driving me, I’ll see you in half an hour.”

Her manager called out, “One hour. Try to have fun, okay?”

It wasn’t like Jennie couldn’t hear the click of cameras following her as she buzzed herself into the apartment building, couldn’t see the flashes half-hidden in the surrounding bushes. But she schooled her expression and let herself into the building, engulfed in silence once again for the 7 minutes before she reached your apartment door.

“Hi, Jennie,” you greeted when you opened the door. It was disarming to see that perfectly crafted, perfectly kind expression, but Jennie followed you inside anyway. To be honest, the way you decorated your apartment was almost a perfect reflection of the you that you presented-- sweet, comfortable, but a completely blank slate that could be arranged easily. No pictures decorated the walls, just like how your easy smile never left your face, and the only things on your expensive glass shelves were awards and your own albums. But you smiled, “The flannel looks good on you.”

“Thanks. You can have it back,” Jennie mumbled, peeling it off and draping it over one of the acrylic chairs that tastefully decorated your living room. “It’s a nice place. You’re lucky to live alone.”

You hummed, clearing a pile of papers off the couch so that she could sit. “Sure, I guess. It’s a lot lonelier than the dorm, but it is nice to have all the space to myself.”

“Right.” She sat obediently and accepted the petite cup of coffee that you pushed towards her. “So, what are we supposed to do for an hour?”

“I thought we could watch Netflix and grab some takeout,” you chuckled embarrassedly, reaching for the remote. “I can’t really cook, but I’ll pay for anything you want to order.”

Jennie should’ve asked for pizza, jajangmyeon, something inexpensive but universally enjoyable. But the more she looked at you, the more she realized that for all your effort, nothing she did could possibly break you. Making dinnner for you once, even becoming friends with you and pulling away again, wouldn’t change anything when everything she saw of you was... false. So she stood, made her way to the kitchen, and opened to the fridge. “I can cook. What have you got?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you protested and followed her over. “I’m serious, I can pay for anything you want.”

The rapper ignored you and frowned at a tub of kimchi. “How does kimchi jigae sound? You’ve got close to nothing in here.”

You were silent for a moment, but sighed and moved to open your cupboards. “Kimchi jigae sounds great. You’re going to be carrying this dinner, I hope you know.”

“That’s no problem,” Jennie chuckled, turning to you slightly. “By the way, have you got any soju?”

“I thought you’d have a better alcohol tolerance.”

“Why?” Jennie groaned, head clutched in her hands. The steam from the cup of coffee that she convinced Chaeyoung to buy for her was absolutely going to melt her makeup, but under the LED lights of the waiting room, she wasn’t sure she cared.

Lisa sighed and patted her shoulder softly as she passed by. “I mean, wasn’t there a month where you went to a different club every night? It’d be weird if you did that completely sober.”

Jennie frowned; she wished she could tell Lisa that she actually spent every night of that month huddled in the corner with a mocktail, hoping to the heavens that Dispatch didn’t burst their way inside and find her hiding. But she shook it off and replied flippantly, “Drinking a lot doesn’t increase everyone’s tolerance, believe it or not. Maybe Y/N just had really strong soju.”

Before the dancer could respond, Jisoo opened the door and popped her head inside. “Hey, guys, they’re ready for us to start filming. And, Jen-- you have a visitor.”

“Who?” she groaned in answer, struggling to her feet and wincing as she removed her sunglasses.

Her question was answered as she reached the stage, finding a familiar face among the camera directors. “Y/N?” she squinted.

“Hey, Jennie!” you shouted with your hands cupped around your mouth. The smile on your face was a little wider than usual, poked into your cheeks differently. It was pretty, Jennie realized, and more genuine. “Good luck!”

Before she could ask what you were doing, huddling with the cameramen while she prepared to film her first Queendom stage, she was called up on stage. But for once, Jennie could feel a smile tugging at her lips as she got into formation, a smile that she hadn’t been able to pull off for a while.

You startled her by cheering her name just before filming began, and inciting laughter from the crew. Some warm flower blossomed in her chest as Jennie spoke her first line, her voice more steady than it had ever been during practice.

As soon as she finished the first attempt at the group shot, Jennie bent down at the edge of the stage and beckoned you forward. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”

“I’m cheering you on, of course.” Jennie found a banner with her name on it in your hands as you approached, the tip of your nose cold from the air-con in the studio. “You did great.”

“Thanks,” she chuckled softly, feeling the banner between her fingertips. “Where’d you even get this?”

You shrugged, “Bought it. I had to make an account and all, so you better be feeling more energized.”

“I am.” Jennie herself was surprised at how true the statement was; for some reason, seeing your dyed hair in the crowd of cameras was like a shot of pure adrenaline, just more intense and gratifying. She smiled, “I am. It’s really nice of you to come, Y/N.”

“Of course,” you said, waving the banner around with a grin creasing in the corners of your eyes. “We’re girlfriends, after all. And I’m your friend.” At the call of a director, though, you stepped back. “I should let you film.”

“Y/N?” Jennie called after you. When you turned to face her again, Jennie allowed her customary gummy smile to take over her face as she said softly, “You can call me Jen. All my friends do.”

You were too far away for her to hear your answer, but the excited little jump you made as you walked back to your spot kept the grin on Jennie’s face as she stood again. She missed the relieved glances her members exchanged behind her back, but she could feel a new kind of energy coursing through her as the director started his countdown again. And-- she kind of liked it.

You hated the popular belief that idols who presented the sweetest, kindest version of themselves to the internet got absolutely no hate. Fans, family, managers-- they all believed that never letting your smile slip and never having a single scandal would protect an idol completely. When you were deciding on your persona for your debut, you thought the same, and so you forced yourself into the happy, positive personality that the world knew.

However, for all your effort, for all the things you had to endure with that same smile on your face, people hated you. They called you fake, tried their best to get under your skin just so they could see you fall. But it was too late to fight back, because that wouldn’t become the kind, sweet Y/N. It was too late to ask for help, and it was too late to let yourself cry.

When you met Jennie, you were determined to keep her on the outside of that precious mask you could never remove. After all, what would she understand? She did what she wanted to, didn’t care what people said about her, and she was strong. Jennie was as strong as you wished you could be, and you were sure that she would never understand. But the more that you saw her and the more that you talked to her, the more you understood that you were one and the same. That tough, carefree version of Jennie was what protected her, just like your perfectly engineered smile.

The first time you saw Jennie laugh, you knew that you were in deep. She didn’t know a single thing about you, but she was letting her walls down and letting you in-- or at least, the you she knew. But you liked her smile so much that you wanted to keep it there, at any cost. And maybe it meant sacrificing yourself.

“Are you ready?”

“For what? Walking through the street, undisguised enough that Dispatch will recognize us but no one else will?” At your pout, Jennie stopped her grumbling and laughed softly, still adjusting her scarf in the car mirror. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

A beat of silence passed as she grabbed your hand and led you out of the parking garage and onto Garosu-gil. “Hey. Y/N, I want to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I... I’m glad it’s you.” Jennie squeezed your hand, her skin slightly cold with the wind blowing softly around the two of you. “I’m glad you’re the one I’m doing this with.”

You wished that she wouldn’t say that. You wished she’d feel anything else towards you-- contempt, hatred, even, despite everything you’d gone through just to become civil. But you squeezed back, flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Me too. You know, it’d be a lot worse if they set me up with a guy.”

“Why would they?” Jennie frowned in answer. “You came out on your own.”

“Unlike you, I didn’t prove it. You know Korea, you aren’t gay until you prove you are,” you sighed, scuffing your shoes against the cobblestones. “They wanted to set me up with a guy at first, but they decided that accepting YG’s offer for me to date you would be more beneficial.”

The other girl paused, and you didn’t quite dare to look up. “Oh. So you didn’t choose to help me, did you?”

You shook your head quietly, expecting Jennie to react badly. But she huffed out a breath and pushed your arm softly. “That’s okay. We’re friends, anyway, and it was hard for you to get us here already. I appreciate you, you know.”

Opening your mouth to respond, you noticed yet another camera flash, just between two buildings ahead of you. “What?” Jennie asked, following your gaze.

“I-- Don’t hate me for this, okay?” you whispered, stopping in the middle of the road. Before she could say anything, you placed your hands lightly on her jaw, pulling Jennie towards you; before your lips actually met, though, you gave her a second to pull away. Instead, she leaned forward just the slightest bit, barely enough to connect.

You didn’t quite dare to move, but Jennie’s hands rested on your waist and pulled you into her, just enough that your lips slotted together. You could barely hear the clicks of the camera, the warmth of the girl that you were kissing completely clouding your brain.

Before anything else happened, you released your grip and stepped away, lips suddenly cold. “I think that’s enough,” you whispered, linking your hands again and lowering your head.

Jennie laughed breathlessly and continued to stroll along when you prompted her to. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Um. Sorry?”

She only giggled harder at that, shoving you slightly. “What are you even sorry for? You’re a good kisser, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, heat rising to your ears as you shoved her back. “How do you even say that with a straight face?”

“Hey, I had to listen to Lisa say ‘bitch I’m a star but not Patrick’, I think I can handle this,” Jennie joked. Despite all your effort not to, you found yourself staring at her smile again, losing yourself and any other worries bothering you in it, and her, once again.

Jennie frowned at her phone-- or actually, at the blankness of her texting history with you. After the little PR stunt at Garosu-gil, you hadn’t contacted her once, and she didn’t dare to surprise you at your apartment or properly ask you what was going on.

“Haven’t you heard the saying that a watched kettle never boils?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a pot,” Jennie replied listlessly, still staring at her screen. “But I have heard it, yes. I’m just hoping the universe proves it false.”

Chaeyoung sighed and hugged her older member from behind, swaying back and forth. “Why don’t you just message her? Or go see her? Our manager won’t say anything about it if you just say it’s for PR.”

“It is,” Jennie frowned, turning to her member. The Australian girl raised an eyebrow, and Jennie bit her lip. “Okay. Maybe it isn’t.”

“It definitely isn’t,” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes. “I saw those kiss pics, you know. And no one kisses like that if it’s ‘just PR’. You like each other, unnie, and it’s time to face it.”

Jennie swatted Chaeyoung’s arm. “That’s so cheesy, shut up. But... do you really think I like her?”

“That’s a question for you to answer,” the younger girl pointed out. “But I’ve known you for close to a decade. If I’m right about this, and I’m sure I am, everything’s about to change for you.”

“Ugh, cheesy again,” Jennie groaned, but she stood hesitantly nonetheless. “But... I guess I’ll give it a shot.”

On her way down the stairs, the rapper dialed her manager on her phone and held it up to her ear while she waited for the dial tone to fade. “You’re driving me to Y/N’s house,” she said by way of greeting. “And it’s not just for PR.”

She was sure that no car ride had ever gone slower; Jennie fidgeted the entire way, cursing every bus that blocked her way and scowling as the sun began to set behind a set of buildings in the distance. The more she thought about it, the more definite it was-- she liked you, more than she thought she could like a person. And while that fact would’ve scared her, should’ve scared her, it didn’t. Because it was you, and nothing about you could scare her anymore.

Somehow, the process of buzzing herself in at the building’s front, taking the same elevator up to the 67th floor, and hurrying her way down blue-carpeted hallways had become familiar. Jennie knocked persistently on the door of your apartment and called out, “Hey, Y/N, let me in. It’s Jennie.”

It took a while for anything to happen, and Jennie was almost backing away by the time that the door finally cracked open. For once, the smile on your face was missing, replaced by a guarded, harsher expression than the other girl was used to seeing. “Jen. What’s up?”

“Uh,” she hesitated, “can I come in? I don’t think we can talk in the hallway.”

You looked like you wanted to say no, but with a pleading look from Jennie, you backed away and let the door swing open. Jennie shut it quietly, following you into the living room, where you stood with your arms crossed. “So. What can’t we talk about in the hallway?”

Jennie wanted to say outright the words that were beating in her throat, but the expression on your face alarmed her. You were like a stranger-- or, maybe, she realized that you had finally let your mask down. “I... Y/N, are you okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you responded. Suddenly, the roles were reversed; Jennie was the one reaching out for you, maybe even chasing after you, and you were somehow the one who was turning away.

“Okay,” Jennie said quietly. You were about to turn away, probably assuming that she was going to leave, but if Jennie had learned anything from you, it was that she couldn’t give up that easily if she wanted you to open up. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you responded instantly. Your words only hurt more when you didn’t look up from the television, continuing, “I don’t want you, and I don’t want anything from you--”

“You don’t get to say that to me.” Anger was once again rushing through Jennie’s veins, though not the kind of anger she was used to experiencing. No, she wasn’t mad at your words in the slightest, or even offended-- she was simply pissed off about the fact that you were shutting her down, and she didn’t know why. “Not when you were the one who started this. Y/N, you wanted me once, you don’t get to go back on that without an explanation,” Jennie gritted her teeth, gripping your forearms in her hands.

You finally turned when she shook you lightly, your face blank. “What, I don’t get to shut myself down? You did it the entire time I was trying, giving my all so that you’d talk to me or even just be civil.”

Jennie pleaded, “You succeeded, didn’t you? You’re right that I was a total bitch when all you were trying to do was be nice and make this tolerable for the both of us, but you succeeded. Okay? You-- you’ve made your place in my heart, and I’m not even angry about it. I just... I just like you that much.”

A derisive scoff escaped your lips as you twisted your arms out of her reach, stepping away. “You like me? Jennie, you don’t even know me. This me, the smiles and boba and everything, it’s a facade.” You threw your hands up in the air, biting down on your lip before sighing out, “It’s fake. All of it.”

“I know it isn’t,” Jennie shook her head desperately. She searched your eyes, scanned the sea of the color she’d grown to love, for some semblance of the person she remembered kissing her. “Look, you kissed me. And I know it was for the cameras, but you can’t tell me that you felt nothing from it. Y/N, you’re a good liar, but you can’t lie to me, not about this.”

You were quiet at that, glancing down at the floor as if you had nothing to say. “I didn’t,” you finally answered, tone firm. “Maybe you did, but I--”

Unable to stop herself, Jennie rushed forward again and tugged you into another kiss, her hands scrunching into the hair splayed over your shoulders. She was almost afraid that you’d push her away, curse her and throw her out of your apartment, but she felt your lips moving against yours. She felt your hands splay on her back, and she felt tears slipping down your face.

When you finally did push her away, it was gentle, though you were rough when you wiped the tears off your face. Jennie wished you’d speak first, but she brought herself to speak. “If your smiles were fake, think of the real ones you brought to me. Even if my smiles were from your facade, that’s still a part of you. I know that though you weren’t trying to, you let me see the real you. And I’m willing to see the rest of you,” Jennie smiled, clasping your hands within hers. Sometime along the way, she’d started crying too, but the salt of those tears was almost honeyed on her lips. “If you want me to.”

“I do,” you sighed, accepting the kiss that Jennie pressed to your forehead with a teary smile. “I want nothing more than that, Jen. And-- I’m sorry.”

“Why?” she laughed, wiping the tears of your face so much gentler than you did. “I know what I want now. It’s you, and it has been you since you tried buying me a green juice in that damn coffee place. I like you, Y/N. So much.”

You tucked your face into the crook of her neck and snaked your arms around her waist again. “I like you too. More than I ever thought I could.”

And maybe, just maybe, you knew what you wanted too. Somehow, that mask you wore had long been tossed to the side. Somehow, each kiss pressed to your face by the girl you never knew you needed to find lingered on your skin like the touch of a miracle, and the smile on your face was finally, finally genuine like you had always wanted it to be.

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adelheidvonschicksal · 3 years

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I Write Sins, Not Tragedies [Todoroki x F!Reader] Chapter 2

Summary: Your life is going about as well as anyone expects of a 20-year-old woman. You graduated two years ago and work at Endeavor’s hero agency as an assistant to the heroes there, including your childhood best friend and long-term crush, Todoroki Shouto. Everything was going your way until Todoroki gets a girlfriend…one without the purest intentions.

Pairing: Female Reader x Todoroki Shouto x Female OC

Content Warning: Love Triangles, Unrequited Love, Cheating, Angst with an eventual happy ending, eventual smut

Tsuyu was an intelligent girl, way more intelligent than you thought you’d ever be or rather less willfully masochistic than you. She was the first one to ever tell you there was no reason to be a doll on the shelf waiting for the moment Todoroki tired of all his other toys and decided to play with you. You’ve known for years now that she was right. Todoroki has never seen you as girlfriend material, he had made that known a long time ago back during your first year at UA.

Shouto was in his second year and invited you to a slumber party that his friends in the hero course were throwing. The only thing you remembered from that horrible night was someone suggesting that you all play seven minutes in heaven, being locked in the closet with your crush, and being in near tears by the end of it all.

Being in a closet with Todoroki was a cliché that you know only the girls in his class could come up with, thinking it was cute that you had a crush on your upperclassman. You knew better than to play along with their plans. Your relationship with Todoroki was a delicate balance of trust and understanding. A little game wasn’t going to help you build the confidence to risk that with a kiss.

You drew your knees to your chest, cursing them for putting you in this situation. There was a sigh then you fell into silence, leaving Todoroki to be the one to break it and the long train of what-ifs going through your head.

“Is this the part where we’re supposed to kiss?”

You didn’t even have the sense to gasp when he asked you that. You simply froze. You were afraid to answer. You didn’t want to believe him, you didn’t want to get your hopes up, you didn’t want to be rejected by the one person to ever hold your young fragile heart.

“The point of the game is to kiss, right? As odd as that seems.”

“Yes, but no one can force you to do what you don’t want to do, or I won’t at least.”

“Oh,” he mouthed. You thought you saw the slightest bit of disappointment cast over his handsome face.

Was he really thinking what you thought he was? Could he possibly want to kiss you too?

It was more than you could ever hope to think that the idea even crossed his mind. It meant that he thought about you the same way you thought about him. At least in some small way, he must have held the same desire. It made your heart flutter.

“That’s probably for the best. I’ve never kissed anybody before. I don’t think I’d be good at it at any rate.”

“I’m sure you’d be a good kisser,” you said, ever the one wanting to be his encouragement even for the simplest of insecurities. When sterling grey and turquoise blue caught your eyes again, you found some courage bubbling to the surface. “Do you want to kiss me?”

“I wanted to try it I suppose,” he admitted. He was hesitant, unsure of his own answer. You shouldn’t have been surprised. Shouto wasn’t good when it came to feelings. As if you were one to talk when you couldn’t even admit your own to him. But maybe, maybe, if you kissed him, it would open up a way to share your true feelings with him. At minimum, it would be better for him to have his first kiss with you instead of another girl.

“We can try,” you whispered, attempting to let your voice fall in a seductive low like you’ve seen in romance movies. You’re not sure if it came across that well, but Shouto puckered his lips and tenderly closed the distance as soon as the words left you.

The second he made contact, your heart swelled like it was going to implode the same way a supernova does, and like a collapsed star, you've been waiting what felt like billions of years for this. He was warmer than you ever imagined, and the comfort of his arms wrapped around your waist sent tingles up your spine. You didn’t think you could love him more, but the kiss proved you were addicted to him. Was this healthy? You’re not entirely sure as this is the only time you’ve been in love. It didn’t matter. You didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want this to only be seven minutes. You could stay in this steamy closet with him forever.

Then, Shouto pulled away. It was way too soon for you. You wanted to kiss him more, to find out what his tongue felt like in your mouth.

“How was it?” you asked, a bit out of breath.

Shouto was quiet, eyes drifting around, first from your face then to the corner of his eyes, and finally to his lap as he quietly confessed, “It was a little strange.”

That’s not what you wanted to hear. You thought the kiss was nice, perfect even. Now, your heart platooned to the pit of your stomach, forming a kernel of anxiety.

“In a bad way?” you dared to ask.

“No. It wasn’t bad…”

You swallowed hard, trying to remain calm. The only thing repeating in your head was exactly what he meant. Did he like it then? No. He didn’t look like he liked it.

“It’s hard to explain, but it was weird.” He hesitated, his lips parting and closing multiple times as he anxiously tries to find the answer. “Like…kissing my sister.”

You choked.

Sister.

Shouto thought kissing you was like kissing a sister. You could understand. You had known him since you were twelve. That’s almost like growing up together. You only wished you never found out. You rather go on wondering if he loved you than knowing he had thought of you as a sibling. It hurt, and your face twisted with overwhelming despair.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“…I’m sorry,” he said softly. He wanted to take it back. His confession, the kiss, everything when he saw your face. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“I’m not upset,” you reassured him as the light began to flood into the closet. You stood up, tall and proud, not letting anything slip to disapprove your calm. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine though.

None of it was. Everything was in ruin. Your feelings, your first kiss, all ruined.

“Everything is fine,” you told him when he asked again that evening.

Deep down, you had held on hope maybe someday, he would change his mind and see you in a different light since you've yet to see him take interest in any other woman romantically. His date to events was always with you, he always made time for you, he always remembered your birthday, and always smiled ever so slightly when you'd laugh. You were almost positive that day years ago was wrong, some sitcommical miscommunication; but now as you shared this table with him, you knew that you had simply been lying to yourself to protect your broken heart. That what happened in that closet wasn't simply a fluke of socially stunted teenaged emotions.

Because after this woman in the floral dress kissed him, he looks at her the way he never looked at any other woman, never looked at you. Like she was everything he ever wanted.

⇜ Chapter 1

Chapter 3 ⇝

#todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha todoroki #i write sins

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stephspurs · 3 years

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. A window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

Hello my lovelies!! Part 3 sees a whole lot Amelia's beautiful brain & you get your first slice of interaction with the british boys - leading up to an all important Mykonos adventure (part 4 - out friday). As usual, please let me know your thoughts and feelings, and let me know what you want to see happen with Amelia and her story! Updates have increased to 3/week! I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am!

Love always,

Steph xx

UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!

Part 3. | parte terza

warnings; none - just a whole lot of feels.

word count; 2081

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 30/07 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

It was the day after the final match and Amelia should be nursing a hangover due to the large amount of red wine she consumed with her Italian counterparts the night before. However, she finds herself at St. George’s Park before 9am, meeting one of her father’s colleagues who directs her to the recreation room that she remembers from a few days prior.

Standing outside the door, she assumed she was just waiting for her dad as agreed on the phone an hour earlier. As she was waiting, she could hear Gareth Southgate give a team talk to the players, praising them for their ability and pleading for them to bounce back from this defeat and use it to push on. The next voice she could hear was that of her father, giving them the tactical run through of the game. She listened to the points her father made, and both agreed and disagreed with some. Unexpectedly, the man sent to collect her opened the door and ushered her inside.

She stood at the back of the room, facing her dad and Gareth, whilst the team and other management staff had their backs to her. Making eye contact with her dad, he smiled slightly.

“Whilst I can offer you my opinion on the match last night, to better prepare you for the next time, there is no better opinion to learn from at this moment than that of your opponent. Amelia, would you please come up here” Dean really threw her into this situation, that again, she was not prepared for nor did she want to participate in. However, the 30+ sets of eyes that had currently turned around to stare at her didn’t exactly inspire a choice to be made here.

_____________________________________________________________

“Lads, this is my daughter. I taught her everything she knows, which was probably too much considering I can now recognise that it was her signature plays that the italian side used to their advantage last night. Treat her with respect, or I will let her at you. Which i’m sure you all saw a few nights ago in this very room” My dad spoke as I walked up to the front area, weaving in and around beanbags with players occupying them.

Standing in front of the Three Lions was more nerve wracking now than it had been when she was confronting her brother, maybe Fede did offer her protection as his bodyguard. Either way, she put her big girl pants on (figuratively speaking, literally she was wearing her official puma tights and Italian polo) and got on with it as if she was speaking to her team.

“Thanks Dad. Hey guys, I think the first thing I would like to say is that you’re allowed to feel exactly how you feel right now. There is no rush to ‘get over it’ or ‘push on and learn’. You need to feel this now, feel it throughout your body, understand the pain and then turn it into motivation.” I speak to the group, trying to accurately express how sincere I am to this group of heartbroken men.

“As for tactics, I can stand here and praise you for how good you really are but that's not how you are going to learn. You came into the game hard and fast.” I paused, understanding the innuendo just as it was flying out of my mouth. I pursed my lips and tried to hold my giggle in, however some of the boys seem to have the same sense of humour as I do. My brother, face of steel and eyes that burn into any man that tries to joke with me.

“Sorry, can’t help myself. So yeah, you took charge of the game from kick off and we were not ready. You had the aggression and desire to push from the start and that's what you did, Shaw, you really surprised me with that goal. Not because I didn't think you could do it but because I wasn’t anticipating you being someone we had to watch so closely.”

“Again, something you guys need to keep in mind is that it is literally my job to know everything about you and how you play the game, what foot you prefer, who you pass to, how long you hold the ball before you pass, do you like to assist or score...all of these things make a massive difference in each play we make.”

“The error you made came around the 25th minute of the game, we had settled into the game and did what we do best - we slowed you down. In Italy, in the Serie A, which is where most of my team play, the game is a lot slower. There is more skill and tactic used to ensure a favourable outcome. Again, i'm not saying you all don’t have skill, but the Prem favours pace over tactics and strategy. The only way we were going to be able to win was by making you play our game, but in your half of the pitch.”

At this point, all of their eyes are trained to me and the more senior players of the team, like Henderson, Walker, Coady, Kane, they understand what i’m trying to say. Gareth, my dad and other members of staff are sitting to one side, arms folded and a slight smile on their face at the simplicity of my approach to such an important game. I direct my next question to them.

“Can I ask - have you already selected your man of the match?”

“Off record, yes we have. Before I announce to the team who it is, can I direct the question back to you and find out who you would award it to?” Gareth poses back to me, interested to hear my opinion.

“While the obvious choices would be Kane, Sterling, Maguire - your players who perform week in week out and are consistent and no doubt deserve an award as such. I would recommend Declan Rice. Personally, he was the most instrumental in the match last night. Every time we turned to attack, he was there to stop it. He was a player I was confident that I knew the extent of his ability, when it was obvious that I didn't.”

The boys around him, Mason Mount & Ben Chilwell, offered him a gentle shove and ruffle of the hair, to show their encouragement to the bashful boy who seemed surprised at the praise he was receiving.

“The other player that I think deserves a bit of a shoutout, and not because of his hair, is Jack Grealish.” I spoke, looking around the room until we locked eyes. I wanted him to understand how serious i was about my next words.

“You are so dangerous on the ball, you are an asset as a team mate, you aren’t guilty with the ball, but you have the power behind you to score when the opportunity presents itself. The moment you were subbed on I pulled Jorginho to the side and told him to treat you like Chiellini and Bonnucci were handling Sterling and Kane. You were one of my players to watch, and for good reason”

At the end of the little session, I said thanks to the boys for listening and that I hope to see them again in a tournament. The only way to be the best is to beat the best. After a quick round of applause that made me feel more special than I am, I walked past my brother, gave him a quick ruffle of his hair and met my dad at the back. Gareth dismissed the boys and they all stood up, breaking away and grabbing some breakfast that was set up to the side of the room, for one last team meal.

“Mills!! I’ll get you an almond croissant and a coffee, come sit with me!” Walker shouted from across the room.

“Oi mate, she’s my sister not yours” Ben counters from the back of the line.

“Yeah she's your sister by blood, mine by choice.” Kyle firmly states and begins his way to one of the tables.

“I suppose i better join Kyle before he drowns everyone in his tears” i joked with the england officials i was standing with before walking over to Kyle and a few of his team mates.

“Sooo am I supposed to pretend I don’t know who you all are so you can introduce yourselves? Or do we just mutually agree that I know too much about each of you and not bring it up?” I question the boys, jokingly. They all laugh and I sit down in the space Kyle left between himself and John Stones. I sat there and got to know some of the boys on a less competitive level, working out who was a leader both on the pitch and off it. After listening to the boys joke around and just be mates, rather than teammates, I leaned over to Kyle.

“Hey, before I go, do you think you can introduce me to Bukayo? I want to speak with him for a moment.”

“Yeah sure, I'll take you over there. Why are you nervous? You've never been shy before” Kyle questioned back at me.

“I’m not nervous, I'm just hyper aware of the sensitivity of the moment. Last night would have been tough”

Saying goodbye to the boys, Kyle directed me over to a table that was sitting my brother Ben White, Kalvin, Ben Chilwell, Grealish, Saka, Sancho & Rashford.

“Hey boys, Ben, I just wanted to come say goodbye before I head off.” I directed towards my brother. He pulled up a chair and asked me to sit for 5 more minutes, claiming he deserved it after months of no contact.

“Ben here didn’t let us know he had a sister as smart as you...what happened to you Ben? Did you miss that gene?” Jack Grealish poked at my brother. With his signature scowl on his face, Ben White let his mates laugh at his expense.

“Oh don’t make fun of my brother Benny, that’s my job!” I joked back, setting the boys off again with my brother’s childhood nickname. It was nice to hear some laughter again from a side that looked so solemn the night before.

“No in all seriousness boys, I especially came over because I wanted to talk to you Bukayo - what you did was so impressive. In a final, as the last penalty taker, to take on the responsibility of the nation at the age of 19! Not many players would dare to do that. You have earned a lot of respect, particularly from the Italian camp.” I spoke with a smile on my face, directed at the young boy.

“The same goes for you two” Now looking at Sancho & Rashford.

Bukayo looked down at his hands & smiled, before getting up and walking to my side of the table. Anticipating what he was going to do next, I stood up and welcomed him with open arms. Grateful that he understood my message and was beginning to accept the praise he so deserved. Stepping back from the hug, I turned to address the group of lads one more time.

“If any of you fancy a change of pace and want to come over to the Serie A, just give me a call - Benny can give you my number!” I start to speak, before I'm cut off but my brother.

“Stop poaching my mates! I’ve already lost you to another country. I don't need to lose anyone else” He jokingly says while standing to walk me out of St. George’s Park. I know it was a joke but I can't help but think there was some truth to that.

It had been more than 3 years since I moved out of our family home to start my life in Turin, and not one moment had i regretted it or thought i made the wrong decision. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I wished I was closer to my family, but I know I had to make that move to prove to myself I am just as successful as I hoped I would be. Not saying I have learnt everything there is to learn with the Serie A giants, Juventus, but maybe it's time for a new challenge? Maybe I can bring the strategic spin on the game to the fast paced action of the premier league?

Part 4. | quarta parte

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vickyvicarious · 3 years

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Maurice: "[Mr. Blanche]'s got cancer. He's asymptomatic now, but he's in stage four. Refuses to get treatment. And now he's started having episodes with his heart."

Sophie: "I'm... so sorry, Maurice. I know what it's like to lose someone." [pauses, struggles] "But... I don't see how we can help you. I mean, we go after guilty parties. If your friend, for example, had become sick by... I don't know, like, poisoned groundwater, or - or asbestos, or... s-"

Maurice: "Look, I don't want you to go after anyone. I want you to make Mr. Blance feel like a real hero. Like the ones he reads about in those books. Just... for one day. One Christmas wish."

This moment really stands out to me. I know it's framed as a 'Christmas wish' and whatnot, but this is actually a super-interesting twist on the old client format of the original show. The way it used to be, they'd come to Nate with their tale of woe, and he'd hear them out. Then he'd ask them a leading question, or make an offer, generally to get them money. And they'd say, no, actually I want that asshole who did this to me to know what it feels like. I don't care about the money, Mr. Ford, but he hurt my family. Something alone those lines.

Generally speaking, even if the issues were more systemic, there was often one inciting incident to all this. Sometimes that was even a one-off, like, I just lost my house. My barn burned down. My potato was stolen. Whatever, there was often a specific incident at hand. And this whole format is interesting because it's so understandable to Nate. His life was fine, until his son died. Now he wants revenge. Obviously, it's not that simple, really - the systems in place that hurt him were there long before - but it can often feel that way.

To some extent, that's even true of the rest of the team; it's how they all met: I was fine stealing, until we got betrayed. Then I wanted revenge, and that led to wanting to do good. It's a theme that the show follows in various ways, from Nate sometimes forgetting about the doing good in favor of just taking down bad guys, to Dubenich coming back to seek revenge against all of them, to Sterling and Moreau coming back as elements of Nate and Eliot's pasts.

But Redemption is different.

The way they find clients has changed. There's more of clients just showing up at their door for help, finding them. Which isn't exactly new, but several times, as in this episode, the team is surprised to see them; this isn't like the usual meetings Nate would have in the pub where someone clearly got in touch ahead of time. Or maybe he had 'office hours' - either way, these feel a bit different to me.

The jobs they do for the clients feel smaller, sometimes, more personal. There are still inciting incidents and big stakes, but there seems to be a bit less in the way of "I suddenly lost all my money" and more of "this has been building up and now it's too much". More systemic than a shot out of the blue for the clients. I dunno, it's just the feeling I get, and things like a former client calling them up to help her again after her abusive ex has tracked her down once more - I'm not saying the original crew wouldn't have helped her, but it's not so much what we usually saw.

This little exchange Sophie has is really interesting to me because it reflects the old format of (1) client grievance, (2) offer something, (3) client says no and requests something else. But instead of revenge being (3) it's now (2), and more generalized helping someone is (3). And, yeah, I know this specific situation is new even for this Leverage team, but I think in general the focus on just helping has been very clear so far this season.

Hardison's whole redemption speech to Harry. The crew itself being put together to help Sophie process her grief, Harry seek to be better, and Breanna find a way to make a difference. Parker letting Sophie take the lead so often. In fact, the more fluid dynamic in general reflects a different style of leadership and a different focus in a way.

I don't know, it feels like a really good reflection of the way the Leverage that Parker, Hardison, and Eliot ran together was different from Nate's Leverage. How they made it their own. And having Sophie be the one to say all this stuff about revenge in this scene, maybe reflects a little bit of how she hasn't been there for all those changes the way they have, how she still defaults to Nate's old format a little bit.

(Though I do recognize that the 'Christmas wish' is a particularly egregious example and Eliot clearly didn't wanna take it at first either. Still, on a meta level having her be the one to talk interested me.)

#leverage redemption #leverage #leverage spoilers #leverage meta #my meta

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fromiftowhen · 3 years

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The Rookie 3x06 Revelations Thoughts

THIS. EPISODE. I yelled a lot about it on Twitter already, but it was getting a bit much, so this is easier. I need to watch again for more coherent thoughts, but here we go. I'm going to try to go through the plot lines in the order that I cared about them, ranging from literally not at all (Nolan) to literally every fiber of my soul being on fire (Harper and Lucy and June.)

This got VERY long, so it’s behind a cut to save your dash.

(TLDR? I LOVED this episode. My Chenford heart is happy, but my LUCY CHEN IS A BADASS, NYLA HARPER IS A BADASS, WOMEN RUN THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD HEART IS SOARING. SOARING. Read on for more.)

First, to get the boring stuff out of the way. NOLAN. I AM SORRY. I get that this show wants me to care about its main character. And in the ways that he relates to Lucy and Jackson and Harper, I do. But I'm just entirely past the point of needing Nolan in separate plot lines. This episode, in particular, I could have done without his arc. Any time he interacts with Harper or Tim, I'm good. But that's because of Harper and Tim. This week he took time away from storylines I was MUCH more interested in, and I honestly didn't care. I know they use him to check in on current actual world events, but this show did that SO well with Jackson's story last week/etc. that this stuff with Nolan wasn't necessary this week.

JACKSON AND HIS NEW LOVE INTEREST. As soon as they panned up to OFFICER ISAAC "A cop on a horse, yeah" YOUNG, I was like OH HELL, this is ON. I forgot about Sterling and then was like, "wait, he has a boyf.... wait, I DO NOT CARE" -- "You must've been looking in the wrong direction"/"Yeah, well, I am not now." And the scene at the end with the bikes! YES. Here for this. They IMMEDIATELY had more chemistry than Jackson and Sterling ever did, sorry. I hope he sticks around. Jackson finally getting a love interest who will (hopefully, presumably!) understand him as a cop and a person of color? NEED. IT.

TIM BRADFORD AND BILLY RIGGINS MACK DANIELS. "YOU GET PRETTIER WITH AGE." (I am here for ALL references to this show understanding how beautiful Eric Winter is. ALL. OF. THEM.) Derek Phillips is a longstanding love of mine, and he just plays every minor role he's in so well. This storyline was heartbreaking and gave me SO many Tim (and Isabel!) feels. For some reason, even though I thought about this episode a million times over the last week, it NEVER occurred to me to think about Tim's reaction to the UC stuff as an extension of the Isabel storyline, which just... what in the world, self. That is clearly, if you've read my fic, one of my favorite of MANY aspects of Tim's character, and it just never occurred to me that it would play into this episode. So when he said Isabel's name, I had to compose myself. And how it played out, the multi-layered way it gave us a glimpse into Tim now and tied into his clear feelings about Lucy going UC, THIS is what this show does best.

When he administered the Narcan to Mack and did CPR, god, I HURT for him (and for Mack and his family) -- but TIM. He's been there. He's watched it tear his entire world apart, and the guilt he clearly still carries from that is just. Heart-wrenching. The scene at the end with Mack's wife and the scene with Sgt. Grey... so painfully good. The guilt. The honesty. Eric Winter is just knocking it 1000% out of the park every week this season. Honestly, I've loved many television characters with my whole heart, but maybe none more than I do Tim Bradford.

(Please know the restraint I’m showing by not writing one million words about Tim’s solo storyline and the Chenford of it all here. Trust me when I say I could have. But this episode ended up being SO MUCH MORE to me than what I thought it would be. I went in for WORRIED TIM and I got that! But in different ways than I thought, and SO MUCH BETTER.)

TIM "GET CHANGED" BRADFORD PUT LUCY "YES, SIR" CHEN IN HANDCUFFS. WHILE ASKING IF SHE WAS OKAY. AND THEN HE TOLD HER SHE DID GOOD. "I kind of hoped that he would be proud of me... wow, that sounds stupid when I say it out loud." "I know she can. I trained her." Her little smile as he closed the shop door and the way he sort of hesitated before saying anything. It wasn't as much as I wanted it to be (but then again, will anything with these two EVER BE genuinely enough for me? Signs point to no), but it was still EVERYTHING.

BE SCARED. BE WILD. BE UNPREDICTABLE. There are no words for how much the girl power part of this episode worked for me. From Tamara or asking Lucy for the interview to Lucy sneaking a peek in on Harper's presentation, the clear history that Harper and June have (which I want to know EVERYTHING about), to the end scene, which is one of my favorite things this show has EVER done.

It ALL worked. I can't adequately express how much this Lucy storyline means to me. I could ramble for a thousand words about it, but to keep it somewhat coherent, I'm going to bullet point all of the moments that gave me every feeling.

Harper’s look when she realized Lucy was listening. She wasn’t shocked at all. That was pride.

June’s little glance at Harper as she told Lucy that if she wasn’t nervous, she wasn’t human. There are so many sides to Nyla Harper, and I think the soft, caring side is one she hasn’t let everyone see. She shows it to Lucy (and Nolan) when needed, but I don’t know if June had seen it before that moment. And it was a lovely moment of all of them acknowledging in a safe way that what they do, what they were about to do, is dangerous, and nerves are natural, even if you’re badass and can push through them.

“Nope. I just have a flair for the dramatic.” MY GIRL.

Harper’s WINK. I yell a LOT about how much I love Tim Bradford, but I could just as easily yell about Nyla Harper too.

“Actually, my body does have magical powers, but.” YASSS, Harper. Queen.

“I think fitting in is a trap.” This one sentence explains SO MUCH of who Lucy Chen is as a person, not just as a cop. “... as though empathy is somehow a liability.”

“And there sure as hell isn’t anyone tougher.” Basically, every word of that last scene was pitch-perfect, Melissa’s delivery was flawless, and it gave me every feeling possible.

This show does a LOT of things right. This episode was so, so strong. I missed Lopez and Wesley because I love them, but I didn’t MISS them in terms of the storylines we got. A storyline for them would have been one too many for this week, and in a season that’s already felt overpacked, random storyline wise, it wasn’t needed. I would have loved to see Angela on the couch with everyone at the end, but it was perfect as it was.

I sincerely hope this show has started to realize what its strengths are -- bold, badass women (honestly, they’re ALL fantastic - Luna Grey, Isabel, Rosalind, Julie, Tamara -- and obviously all of the regulars) who CARE and who know that isn’t a weakness, Tim Bradford and his mile-long guilt complex and his relationship with all the other officers (especially Lucy and Harper, and now Jackson), Jackson’s ability to fit into whatever role they put him in (Titus is SO good), and multi-layered episodes like this. We don’t need wild, dramatic bombs or random meth lab explosions that don’t fit into an episode’s overall theme. We don’t need hours devoted to telling us that Nolan is the Good Guy. We just do not. This show has come so much further than that, and I know it can continue to be JUST as good if it focuses on everything it already does so, so well.

#the rookie #the rookie spoilers #the rookie season 3 #tim bradford #chenford #lucy chen #nyla harper #jackson west #john nolan

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leverage-ot3 · 3 years

Text

the remarkable story of the world’s best thief, part one

parker grew up with no one. no friends, no family. and then she found archie (or he found her) and they had something, but he still held back and kept her at arm’s length

and then she takes this one job in chicago that’s stealing back airplane designs and she has to work with a team, something she never does but will do only this one time because the payout was supposed to be good

and then they’re all almost killed, which she doesn’t take personally, mind you. she cares that she didn’t get the money

so she goes along with the white knight’s plan and they enlist this horrible actress who isn’t actually that horrible, and they con dubenich out of his company and thanks to the hacker they get the score, the score that ensures retirement, that she can sit on an island surrounded by piles of money, homemade rigs and laser grids galore just for fun

except she can’t just retire. and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, working with them was fun. so she tells nate to call her when he has another job

and then that job goes sideways and she decides it’s not worth it, that she’s better off alone. so they’ll finish the job and part ways for good- how it was meant to be after all.

but then they give the veterans the truck full of money and they’re so happy and she figures, okay, maybe one or two more. maybe then hardison will tell her why she’s supposed to have a plant in her office. why does she need one if it doesn’t do anything?

and time passes easily, easier than it ever had before. she eats pizza beside hardison and eliot. jumps off a balcony without looking, trusting her ability to fall, but eliot catches her anyways. she stabs a man with a fork and hardison talks to her as she cries and at some point she decides that maybe they’re a little more than a team. he says he liked how she turned out, and it shouldn’t be so reassuring, but it is. she makes a tentative friendship with a woman named peggy, the most normal person she knows but astonishingly, somehow wants to be her friend.

and then they’re in a rehab center and she takes the pills they give her and things feel different, so she doesn’t want to leave. so she stays. and then sophie comes back, understanding her game of pictionary that no one else would ever get, so she goes with her. she sees her her team, her friends and is so happy. she jumps into eliot’s arms and holds him tight. trots over to hardison and holds him close. the drugs wear off, but the affection doesn’t. it never will.

and then they’re trying to con nate’s old boss because he’s on a downward spiral and revenge is something they all can understand. except then maggie, nate’s ex wife is there and she’s an expert on art and would be able to tell that their statue was a fake. so nate challenges her to steal the statue with whatever she can gather from the van and the party. and like some people do chess, she figures out how to get the statue with some gum, tinfoil, and ice. she kisses hardison for a distraction, but maybe she liked it? just a little. maybe.

and then they are successful and sell blackpool’s first david back to him, and things are great. she jumps down onto the transportation truck, picks the lock, and sneaks inside, ready to take the david statue back. except sterling- evil nate- is there and she has nowhere to go.

and then he figures out that sophie, her sophie, stole the first david years ago and was conning them from the beginning of the job. she slightly gets it- she is a thief, after all. but the fact that she conned her own team (’a little more than a team’) leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

sophie comes through, and they jump off a building. sophie yells a bit, but she’s come a long way from the first job when she screamed all the way down to the first floor. their office explodes and they go their separate ways, because they’re professionals, after all. they know when a job can’t be done, when it is best to flee.

but leaving a job undone is like having a scratch unitched, and the two davids are on display at blackpools’ gallery. she’s pointing a laser at the painting and a woman turns around and it’s sophie. and then eliot is on the floor above her, and so is hardison. so they make a run for it and nate is out there, waiting in a getaway car.

hardison’s safehouse is a bit ridiculous, little furniture and a toiletless bathroom. they start to bicker but nate brings them to focus. hardison has the blueprints splayed out on a table and they start making plans again- easy- just like they did before.

sophie tries to apologize to them in a tactless way, but they come around eventually. they take a moment, hardison, eliot, and parker, to christen the house with the painting of old nate and sophie directs them how to position it. things feel familiar, normal, and comfortable.

eliot, much to nate’s dismay, meets a willing maggie for lunch. she recognizes the button cam immediately, but takes a moment to make nate very uncomfortable because she’s cool like that. parker likes her for that.

she’s mad- furious in fact. but she agrees to participate in the con and performs wonderfully. parker is a little proud. and then the showing opens, and parker is at the reception desk, taking coats and bags. sterling and his entourage pass her and he talks about every country that wants her in prison, and she almost laughs. she settles on a smile instead.

the con plays perfectly, as almost all of theirs do. she puts the fake statues in all the bags she’s collected and watches it play out. and then they get to work hiding the artwork. they hide in the basement as their plan comes to a head, listening to the chaos above them. nate makes a deal with sterling and everyone leaves except nate and maggie. they come down to meet her, hardison, eliot, and sophie and get to work placing the works of art back in their places.

before long, they are all in an airport hangar, empty except for the five of them. nate tells them how the team has changed him, how they’ve done so much good in their time together. she feels tears prick at her eyes and her stomach has dropped and a part of her can’t believe that this is how it ends.

hardison asks her where she’s going and she smiles, and tells him he will just have to look. they all look at each other and somehow, although she’s still not that good at reading people, they feel the same way as her. it should bring her comfort, but it doesn’t.

one by one they turn and go their separate ways, including her. each step she takes feels harder and more definitive than the last. her heart feels low in her chest and her skin tingles in a way that she’s never experienced before.

spain, she thinks. spain is nice this time of year.

maybe then the weird feeling in her chest will go away. the tugging in her heart said it wouldn’t.

#the remarkable story of the world’s best thief #parker meta #parker #leverage season 1 #my favorite line: jumps off a balcony without looking trusting her ability to fall but eliot catches her anyways #UGH #its good because its true #sorry i spent so much time on the david jobs #i couldn't figure out how to shorten them because a lot happens #lmaoooo when my classmate was like: yeah people bullied Whole Foods and Starbucks and stuff to stop supporting prison labor #leverage #leverage meta #since there is slight ot3 #leverage ot3 #parker x hardison x eliot #mine #my meta #make a masterpost

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boognish-worshipper · 3 years

Text

Midnight City AU

this is an au where the main characters are all young adults!! (or millennials ig? they’re in their 20s basically) i gave a rundown of what’s what on a diff post,, i’m also splitting it up into diff chapters,, so this is gonna take a looooong time to finish. i’m posting this before i nitpick my writing to the max

it’s basically a lot of references to that point in time, artists, pop culture etc. all the chapters are named after songs from that era (including the name of this au bc i love midnight city and what better way to describe LS ‼️), and the lyrics r usually connected to what the chapter’s about, or about a character dynamic :D i hope this isn’t too cheesy, or sounds off ig. any typos in this were probably over looked bc i constantly reread my writing and rearrange stuff and make sure it sounds good 🥳 hope y’all enjoy !!! i’m also including a tag to find the chapters under :)

//Chapter 1: Crimewave

Trevor would never, ever admit it, but he had fallen into the category known as “post-hipster”. This was a strange era that began culminating, taking LS by storm. Whether he liked it or not, he could never avoid it. Even if he swore up and down he wasn’t like them, it was practically a paradox. Saying he wasn’t like them just made him a branched off version of the thing he denounced. Each aesthetic that was churned out as the 2010s rolled in were tied to a style, a sound, and Trevor couldn’t care less. It’s not like people liked what he liked. He didn’t belong to anything in particular, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t like them. If anything, he just became another obscure genre in the mix.

One of his favorite music groups was a Canadian duo called Crystal Castles. He enjoyed a good number of their songs, developing an interest for electropunk and pop punk. There was something unique about the sound, and it made Trevor feel special, like he discovered some sort of hidden treasure. He was into pop punk groups like Paramore too, but it was something about them that was just different. People knew Paramore. He often lingered around Sterling Lake, where other post-irony hipsters and classic hipsters resided, careful not to fully associate with them. After all, he apparently despised them, even though he participated in their strange… “culture”. If you could even call it that. From time to time he would find himself discussing his favorite artists with whatever semi-normal person was there, making a couple friends himself who weren’t the snooty kind he’d grown used to.

They all loved talking about how exceptional their taste in music was, a wide variety of people hanging around with their own cliques. Some liked Fall Out Boy, while others liked Blink-182, and then there were the weirdos who liked groups like Radiohead. Most of those guys were whiny, proclaiming how misunderstood they were. He knew maybe one Radiohead song at most (he definitely, definitely never cried to “Creep” and even if he did, so what) but never found himself willingly getting into their music. Then you had the nosedivr crowd, which consisted of mostly girls, and the occasional hipster guy that defected. Their taste was.. alright. Consisted of artists like Lana Del Ray and Marina and the Diamonds, who were their idols. He found almost everyone there besides the few friends he made kind of edgy, and not in the cool way. But he figured all hipsters and guys like them were kind of uncool. Don’t even get him started on those other indie rock types. God. He still came back as often as he could though, establishing some kind of routine. Most people there avoided him anyway, which he preferred. He had enough troubles with them in the past. There was one day he grew tired of the people gawking at him, and he launched a hipster right into the lake. So yeah, nobody within their right mind so much as looked in his direction. That was just how he rolled.

Today, he sat on a nearby bench in Sterling Lake’s park, watching some ducks float on water. His usual friends had been there too, seeing his clowncore buddy Wade with his cousin Floyd. Wade was extremely different than the pretentious fucks around them. He had a shit ton of piercings, and ICP was his favorite music group. Floyd on the other hand, fit right in. Almost too much, like it was something he was forced to do. But he did genuinely enjoy Weezer, of all things you could enjoy. Wade started waving at Trevor, while Floyd hid behind him. All he did was awkwardly wave back, turning his attention back to the lake. He liked Wade, but the clown stuff he wore sometimes spooked him. He didn’t pay much mind to his relative. Looking back across the water, he saw someone new, observing the area. Some dude a little above the average height, hands in his pockets walking around. He seemed a bit lost, and Trevor figured he should help if he was. After all, what was this guy doing here? New people didn’t show up often.

“Hey bud, you lost or something?”

“Oh uh, nah not really. I’m just looking for this girl I met a while ago, said she hangs out around here?”

“What she look like? I’m here pretty often.”

“Uhh kinda short, dark brownish hair? Wears fishnet stockings, high waisted shorts or whatever those grunge people are into.”

“Let me guess, she into the Neighborhood?”

“How’d you know?”

“Yeah, that’s Amanda, she’s a bit of a regular. Not too fond of me I must say.”

“How come?”

“She’s just petty towards me.” He said with a shrug. He didn’t feel like relaying his encounters with her if the guy was dating her or something.

“Oh… well d’ya think you could help me find her? I don’t really know anybody else here. I could actually use the help, since you know her.”

“Eh sure, why not.”

It’s not like he had anything better to do. The two began to walk around the park, gravel and dirt crunching beneath their feet.

“So.. what’s this place about?” The strange guy asked.

“Hm? Oh, it’s just one of those places the hipster folks meet up I guess. Don’t understand it much myself, nor do I really like them.”

“Then why do you come here?”

“Dunno. It’s relatively peaceful, those freaks keep to themselves.”

The man, who was only a smidge shorter than Trevor, glared up at him.

“Hey man, don’t call my girl a freak.”

“Ehh I don’t really count her in with the generic skinny jean wearing hipsters. More of a.. what is it called.. nosedivr type. Whatever that stupid website’s called. Why do you think she dresses like that?”

“Huh.. Never really thought to ask her.”

As he thought about the stuff Amanda wore, he took note of how the man next to him was dressed. He sported an olive jacket with a black turtle neck, and a plain pair of jeans. He wore beat up black converse to top it off, and a pair of Rimmers sunglasses sat upon his head. He looked simple, yet distinguished with the way he presented himself, hair neatly combed back. He figured the two would look nice standing next to one another. They would’ve made an attractive couple, if they weren’t dating already, the kind that turns heads. Trevor wasn’t like them. He wore a black beanie over his mullet, and his favorite pair of red Dix sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose. The rest of his fit looked disheveled. He had thrown on a wrinkled top, solid black with little surf boards and cars along the bottom- he was a sucker for Hawaiian shirts. His pants were tan colored but had some bleach stains, with old combat boots on his feet.

“Yeah, we may not like each other but I don’t really consider her a freak like those guys.”

He jutted a thumb in the direction of a circle of guys huddled around a phone. The man holding the phone had strawberry blonde hair and a clean outfit on. An expensive looking outfit.

“Who are they?”

“The people here I absolutely cannot fucking stand. The genuine hipsters.”

“Oh.. and you’re..?”

“I’m my own kind. I’m not like these losers, all uppity and shit.”

“Right. Gotcha.”

They walked around a bit more before finding the group Amanda was with. She sat on a bench, chatting with a few girls who dressed similarly to her. All of them had black incorporated into their style. She herself had a black jumper on, tucked neatly into the front of her jean shorts. Just like the guy described, she had fishnets on under them, skater shoes to match. Loose braids fell on her shoulders, and a small black choker was wrapped around her neck.

“Oh, there he is now! Babe! Over here!”

She narrowed her eyes upon seeing Trevor standing next to him.

“Hello, Trevor.” She huffed.

“Relax, I was helping your boyfriend or whatever look for you.”

Her face softened slightly, but still kept a small glare in his direction. She pressed her lips together tight before replying.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Yup.”

The man turned to face Trevor, sticking out a hand.

“Hey, thanks for showing me around. Trevor, is it?”

“Don’t wear it out.”

He shook his hand, noticing how soft it was. It was in stark contrast to his own, which was rough and calloused.

“Name’s Michael. I’ll see you around most likely? Thanks again.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Amanda huffed again, nudging Michael’s shoulder.

“Let’s go hun, Bean Machine closes soon!”

“I’m comin’ I’m comin’!”

The two sauntered off, hand in hand. Trevor stood dumbly, watching them walk away. He was right. They did look good together. He wondered if he would actually see this Michael again, kicking a rock. He went back to the bench he originally sat at, putting his earbuds in, listening to some Crystal Castles again to pass the time. The beat thumped in his ears, and all he could think was how much better this shit was compared to that club music shit that played on every radio station in a 5 foot radius. He sat there, scrolling through his own secret nosedivr account, reblogging some photo of a lit cigarette. Right before a hand touched his shoulder causing him to jump.

“What the fuck- Oh. Ron.”

Ron was another friend of Trevor’s, a guy he had met outside one of the iFruit stores talking about how “they’re tapping the phones they sell in there!” and all that conspiracy nonsense. He was a paranoid guy, but Trevor kind of liked that about him. Those were the kind of freaks he liked. He was shorter than Trevor, sort of frail in stature. He wore a bright red windbreaker over a faded tourist tee that read “I went to Liberty City and all I got was this lousy t-shirt!”, along with khaki colored cargo shorts. It didn’t help that he wore some goofy looking bucket hat, and socks with sandals. He dressed like someone’s middle aged father.

“Trevor! Have you seen Wade around anywhere?”

“Last I checked, he was with Floyd.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Uh no, but my best bet is they went to that vinyl shop Floyd’s girlfriend works at.”

“Will ya come with me to find him?”

“Now why the fuck would I do that? What do you need him for?”

“Well I- I uh- um..”

“I uh! I uh! Spit it out Ron!”

“It’s about the Merryweather Night Club.”

Merryweather was a big organization that had a wide range of private clubs all over the country, and complimentary body guards to suit. They were all expensive as fuck, and anywhere they settled jacked up the prices of everything else. A lot of neighborhoods became gentrified as a result, and people actually considered it a good thing. What a fucking joke. Trevor of course couldn’t stand it. He hated bullies, and Merryweather was no exception. He’d been wanting to dismantle the club since they settled in LS, seeing as they only amplified the fake feel of the city. Let’s just say he’s gotten into more than a few scuffles with the club. And let’s just say it ended with someone getting stabbed as a result. The guy had it coming to him anyway. Between bouncers and the clubbers, they didn’t like Trevor or his kind loitering around the joint. It didn’t stop him from plotting some sort of revenge though. Ron per usual was on board, his reason being Merryweather’s violent history that had been swept under the rug. They were rather forceful relocating people who had lived in certain neighborhoods for years, Ron being one of their victims. Wade only decided to tag along because he wanted to be included.

“Ah fuck, what’d those bastards do now?”

“They’re throwing some big party!”

“…What fucking for?”

“All I know some guy’s coming to visit, somebody they labeled important and he’s-“

“Woah woah woah wait, Ron. Who?”

“Steve Haines.” He breathed out, careful not to be overheard.

Trevor’s eyes widened, his gaze shooting over to the posse he had poked fun of before. Steve was talking to the group, all of them doing that fake laugh they always did. God, even their humor was pretentious.

“Those fucking hipsters!” He hissed.

“I abhor them, you know that-“

“I know. I know. But, that Weston guy’s gonna be there with him-“

“Weston? Devin Weston?”

If Trevor hated hipsters, then he utterly loathed rich daddy’s money boys like Devin Weston. He had only gotten that stupid fucking night club because his father paid Don Percival enough money to let Devin do whatever he pleased with the Merryweather body guards. It was an elitist club, and they only allowed the best of the best in there.

“What the fuck’s going on there?”

“Something to do with those guys he hangs out with. I think they’re doing something major, expansion maybe-”

“And him and Devin are working together or..?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t hear much after that, that’s why I wanted to grab you and Wade and-”

“Then let’s fucking go get him, Ron!”

The two rushed out of there, heading for the vinyl store to look for Wade. Trevor knew a shit storm was coming, and he absolutely couldn’t wait.

//the next chapter’s gonna be longer i promise lolz

#gta v #grand theft auto v #michael de santa #trevor philips #young trikey #franklin clinton #lamar davis #lester crest #amanda de santa #steve haines #midnight city au

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fandomrewrites · 2 years

Text

We Are Grounder Pt. 1

Hello all! One more chapter until season 1 is complete. As always constructive criticism is welcomed and make sure to let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

Season 1; Episode 12: We Are Grounders Pt. 1 Pairings: OC x OC Best Friends, no love interests yet Warnings: Mentions of death Word Count: 3124

Elara and Nova overhear Bellamy as he addresses the rest of the camp, "Come on. These foxholes aren't gonna build themselves. Better hope those landmines work. All the gunpowder we're wasting, we could be making more grenades."

"Raven's the best. I think she proved that when she made the bomb for the bridge." Elara pipes in sticking up for the engineer and her idea for landmines.

"And rather than lecturing, maybe help out so this can get done quicker." Nova scolds the older boy.

"I've been helping, Angel." Bellamy rolls his eyes, "I need this entire section mined by morning. Then the south field."

"Hey, I told you. We're going after Finn, Clarke, and Monty in the morning." Raven says.

"And I told you, nobody leaves this camp."

"I'm talking to you. We can't just abandon our people. You want to lead them, show them you give a damn!"

"Raven, I understand your concern, I want to find them too. But Bellamy's right. Right now the most important thing is to make sure the rest of us are prepared to fight the Grounders." Nova gently tells the girl.

Before anyone has a chance to reply, a gunshot is heard throughout camp. "Hey, what the hell is the matter with you?" Bellamy scolds Sterling.

"I'm sorry, man. I fell asleep. I've been on watch all day." Sterling replies, clearly scared of Bellamy.

"We've all been on watch all day. That bullet was one less dead grounder."

"Knock it off!" Nova glares, "Sterling, go rest for a bit. I'll take over watch for you."

Sterling nods in thanks as Octavia speaks to her brother, "You need to relax a bit, you're scaring people."

"They should be scared! The bomb in the bridge bought us sometime to prepare, but that time is up. The Grounders are out there right now, waiting for us to leave and picking us off one by one when we do! Clarke, Finn, and Monty are gone, probably dead, and if you want to be next, I can't stop you, but no guns are leaving this camp! This camp is the only thing keeping us alive. Get back to work."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Elara is inside the dropship taking care of Myles and trying not to eavesdrop on Bellamy and Jasper's conversation. "Don't you think I want to go after them, too?" Bellamy asks.

"If it was you out there, you think Monty, Clarke, or Finn would hide behind these walls?" Jasper retaliates.

"No. They'd go after me. Then They'd be dead too. I am doing what I think is right for the group."

"It's funny, you didn't think that way when Octavia went missing." Jasper starts walking away.

"Where are you going?" Bellamy calls after him.

"More gunpowder for your minefield, sir."

Myles breaks the tension by calling out, "Water... Please."

"I'll get some." Bellamy says, causing Elara to smile in thanks.

"Don't worry, he'll be back with water soon. I promise you'll get better." Elara whispers to the injured boy.

She turns to walk away to get some more clean bandages for the wound. As Elara, Bellamy, and Jasper leave Myles alone for a moment, Murphy sneaks in.

He takes the cushion from under Myles's head and starts to suffocate him. "This is for tying the noose that they hung me with. Say hi to Connor for me."

The struggle stopped as Myles stopped breathing. Murphy turns around to leave and sees Jasper behind him. "He stopped breathing. I was.. I was trying to help." Murphy tries lying.

"Murphy, just put the gun down." Jasper remains calm.

"He tried to kill me." Jasper starts moving as Murphy defends his actions, "Hey, don't move."

"Ok. Ok. It's cool."

"No, it's not. You know what'll happen to me if you tell Bellamy."

Elara now is hiding knowing that something is happening but she's just not sure what. "Tell Bellamy what?" She hears Bellamy through a walkie-talkie.

"Give me the radio, Jasper." Murphy commands.

"Murphy has a gun. He killed Myles." Jasper quickly says into the walkie, causing Elara to gasp loudly then cover her mouth afraid that Murphy will hear.

"Murphy, what the hell are you doing?" Bellamy's voice is heard once more.

Creaking is heard as the dropship door starts closing. "Get out here sweetheart, I know you're hiding." Slowly Elara moves out of her hiding spot looking at Murphy with wide eyes.

"Murphy! Murphy! Open the damn door!" Bellamy's voice calls again.

"You try to be a hero, Jasper and Elara die." At Murphy's words, Jasper takes a protective stance in front of Elara.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Outside Nova still is unaware that Elara and Jasper are in danger. Octavia runs up to Bellamy, "I just heard Murphy has Jasper and Elara."

"Yeah. South foxhole all done?" Bellamy questions his sister.

"What? Bellamy, my friends are in there with a killer."

"O, look around. No one's working. If the grounders attack us right now, we're all dead."

Octavia grabs the radio from Bellamy's hand, "Murphy! Murphy, if you even touch Jasper or Elara, I swear to God, you're dead."

Bellamy grabs the radio back. "Octavia, I got this."

"Really? Because it doesn't look like you're doing anything about it."

Just as the words leave her mouth Raven comes around the corner, "Bellamy, you were right. There's a loose panel on the back. If I can pop it, we can get in through the floor."

"Sorry." Octavia says, to her brother.

Bellamy lifts the radio to talk to Murphy, "Murphy, I know you can hear me. All our ammo and food is in the middle level. You know that. You're leaving us vulnerable to an attack. I can't let that happen."

"Yeah, well, in case you haven't noticed, you're not exactly in control right now." Murphy replies.

"Come on, Murphy. You don't want to hurt Jasper or Elara. You want to hurt me. So what do you say? How about you trade them for me?"

"No." Octavia immediately tries to argue.

"All you have to do is let them go, and I'll take their place." Bellamy continues, ignoring his sister's protest.

"That's not a fair trade. Only you for both of them? I'll trade you Jasper for you. The only way I'll trade Elara is if Nova trades places."

Bellamy clenches his jaw as Octavia tries to change his mind, "Bellamy, if you do this, he'll kill you."

"If I don't he'll kill them." He takes a breath then speaks once more over the radio, "You open the door, I walk in, he walks out."

The dropship door starts opening, "Just you Bellamy, unarmed."

"Take this." Bellamy shrugs off his gun, handing it to his sister. "Don't let Nova know about this."

"10 seconds, or I'll put one in Jasper's leg." Murphy says then quickly starts counting.

"Raven will find a way to get you out." Octavia reassures Bellamy.

"I can handle Murphy. Get everyone back to work. The Grounders are still coming." Bellamy walks away from his sister and up the ramp, passing by Jasper as he walks out. "Are you alright, Elara?"

"Just peachy." Elara replies, attention returning to Murphy as he starts to shut the door once more.

*_*_*_*_*_*

"Why isn't anyone working?" Nova asks, walking up to Octavia. "And where's Bellamy?"

"Oh um," Octavia pauses, unsure how to answer.

Nova narrows her eyes, "What's wrong?"

"Well, Murphy has Bellamy in the dropship. I think he's going to kill him."

Nova nods then turns to everyone else, "Get back to work! The Grounders are coming and we need to be ready." The delinquents listen as Nova turns back to Octavia. "Alright what happened and is there a plan in place?"

"Murphy killed Myles and Jasper saw, so he shut the doors. Bellamy traded places because he knows Murphy didn't want to hurt Jasper but he does want to hurt him." She pauses to take a breath, "Raven and Jasper are trying to open the door from underneath."

"Ok, good." Nova starts but is interrupted by the sound of a gunshot.

"Bellamy? Are you ok?" Octavia asks over the radio.

Inside the dropship, Murphy is trying to get Bellamy to tie his own noose while Elara sits helplessly on the side. "You want her to know you're alive? Start tying."

"Bellamy, do you copy?" Octavia asks once more.

"I'm fine. We're both fine. Just a misfire. Now stop worrying and get back to work. And tell Raven to hurry her ass up." Bellamy replies.

"Why would he say we're both fine? Like we care about Murphy." Nova says to Octavia.

"He wasn't talking about Murphy." Octavia closes her eyes, "Elara is in there too."

"WHAT?" Nova yells. "Why the hell didn't you tell me that before?!"

"Bellamy asked me not to say anything. With him in there and Clarke missing, you may be our only leader."

"Yeah, well, with Clarke missing and Elara in there we don't have a medic and that's just as important. Especially considering you or Miller could easily step up as leader."

As Nova and Octavia talk, Raven is still trying to wire the door and Bellamy is just finishing his noose. "All right, that's long enough. Tie those two ends together." Murphy tells Bellamy. "Now get up and toss it over."

"What do you want me to say? You want me to apologize? I'm... I'm sorry." Bellamy says.

"You got it all wrong, Bellamy. I don't want you to say anything. I want you to feel what I felt, and then... Then I want you to die."

"Enough Murphy. You've had your fun. Just let us go." Elara tries.

"Not happening sweetheart."

*_*_*_*_*_*

"Murphy! Let them go and we can talk properly." Nova calls over the radio.

"There's our Angel. Wanna trade places with Elara?" Murphy asks.

"Don't do it, Nov!" Elara yells. Murphy runs over to Elara and slaps her across the face making her raise her hand to her cheek.

"I don't know what you're playing at Murphy. There's no getting out of here alive if you do this." Nova tries once more to reason with Murphy.

"Well, that's something for me to discuss later. Now do you want to trade or not?"

"Dammit." Nova mumbles before raising the walkie once more, "Open the doors, I'll come."

As soon as the door is wide open, Nova makes her way inside. "You're so stupid! How could you-" Elara starts scolding Nova.

"Out before I decide to keep all three of you." Murphy says, forcing Elara out.

"I'll be fine, Lara." Nova encourages with a nod. As soon as the doors start to close she turns her attention to Murphy, "Why did she have a red mark on her cheek?"

"I needed to punish her for talking without me telling her to." Murphy replies with a shrug, "Now sit over there like a good Angel and I'll get to you soon."

He turns back around to address Bellamy. "Stand on it. Put it over your head."

Bellamy shakes his head, "This is insane. The Grounders could..."

"Put it over your head." Murphy says once more, "Or I'll shoot her." He raises his gun to aim at Nova.

"Why don't you put the gun down and fight me like a man?" Nova speaks up, unfazed with the gun aimed at her head.

Bellamy quickly places the noose over his head to distract Murphy from Nova, "Happy now?"

"You're so brave, aren't you? Both of you? I mean, you came in here thinking you're just gonna turn this whole thing around, that you were stronger than me, and maybe one of your friends would come and help you. Well, what are you thinking now, Bellamy? Hmm?" Murphy says, when he gets no answer he tugs on the rope, choking the older boy.

*_*_*_*_*_*

"Are you alright?" Octavia calls to Elara, noticing the bruise forming on her cheek.

"Yeah, Murphy slapped me when I told Nova not to go in." Elara replies.

"That dick. Raven better be almost done. Why don't you go check in on everyone to make sure they're all ok?"

"Not happening. Nova may not be blood related but she's still my sister, I'm not leaving until I know she's alright."

Just as the words leave her mouth Jasper comes back around, "Raven said she thinks she has it and to be ready when the doors open." The two girls nod in response.

Inside, Murphy is continuing his rant, "You know, I gotta hand it to you guys. You got them all fooled. They actually look up to you. Yeah, well, we know the truth, don't we? You're both cowards, I learned that the day you kicked out the crate from beneath me and you gave him the ok to do it."

He looks at Bellamy again, "Isn't that what you said? That you were just giving the people what they wanted, right?"

"I should have stopped them." Bellamy says.

"Yeah, it's a little late for that now."

"I personally wish we killed you the day you came back to camp, sick or not. It's not like you were much help against the Grounder's anyway." Nova speaks up, causing Bellamy to glare at the girl, now is not the time to talk back to the guy with the gun.

Murphy walks over to Nova, who remains unfazed, staring Murphy in the eyes. He rams the butt of the gun into her ribs. She groans in pain as Murphy begins talking once more, "Next time you speak to me like that, I'm putting a bullet through you."

"Do you seriously think they're just gonna let you walk out of here?" Bellamy asks, bringing the attention back to him.

"Well, I think the princess is dead... but I know the king and angel are about to die, so who's really gonna lead these people, huh?" Me, that's who, and yeah, maybe I'll have to kill your Grounder-pounder little sister."

A scream from below us cuts Murphy off, "I'm guessing that's her right now."

Murphy moves to shoot at the floor, but Bellamy tries to kick him. So Murphy releases the rope to hang Bellamy. He then proceeds to shoot at the floor. With Murphy distracted, Nova rushes to him, and tackles him to the floor.

The two roll over fighting to overpower the other. Murphy hits Nova in the ribs once more, knowing that a weak spot for her at the moment. Just as the door begins to open, Murphy punches Nova across the face then runs up to the second floor.

Jasper, Elara, and Octavia rush in. Octavia and Jasper run to Bellamy as Elara runs to Nova. "Upstairs! Murphy went upstairs!" Nova calls, pushing herself off the floor.

She stumbles slightly as she hears Jasper ask Bellamy, "Can you breathe?"

Bellamy stands to pound on the latch to the second floor, "Murphy! It's over, Murphy! There's only one way out of this for you now!"

"You want to bet?" Murphy calls back.

From above them, an explosion is heard, the group rushes out to see Murphy running from the camp and into the woods. "That guy knows how to make an exit. Should we go after him?" Jasper asks.

"No. Grounders will take care of Murphy. We're going after Clarke, Finn, and Monty." Bellamy says.

"What? No, we aren't! That's how the Grounders have been getting us so far." Nova argues.

"Jasper and Raven were right. We don't abandon our own. Two guns. Jasper and me, that's it. Raven stays here to build up defenses. We lost a day because of this, and our gunpowder. Raven!" He yells for the girl.

Miller interrupts the conversation through a walkie, "All gunners! We got movement outside the south wall!"

People start moving before Miller speaks once more, "Wait! Hold your fire! It's Clarke and Finn! Open the gate!"

As soon as the pair are through the gate Clarke asks, "We heard an explosion. What happened?"

"Murphy happened." Bellamy answers.

"Are guys alright? No injuries?" Elara asks.

"No, we're fine." Finn says.

"Thank God! Where have you been? Where's Monty?" Jasper questions.

"Monty's gone?" Clarke asks, confusion lacing her voice.

"Clarke, we need to leave, now. All of us do. There's an army of Grounders, unlike anything we've seen, coming for us right now. We need to pack what we can and run." Finn interrupts.

"Like hell we do. We knew this was coming." Bellamy argues.

"Bell, we're not prepared." Octavia says.

"And they're not here yet. We still have time to get ready. Besides, where would we go? Where would we be safer than behind these walls?"

"There's an ocean to the east. People there will help us." Finn explains.

"You saw Lincoln." Octavia smiles.

Finn nods in response causing Bellamy to reply, "You expect us to trust a Grounder? This is our home now. We built this from nothing with our bare hands! Our dead are buried behind that wall in this ground. Our ground! The Grounders think they can take that away. They think that because we came from the sky, we don't belong here. But they're yet to realize one very important fact: We are on the ground now, and that means we are Grounders."

A few delinquents yell out in support, "Yeah! Grounders with guns!"

"Damn right! I say let 'em come!"

Clarke takes this as her cue to start speaking, "Bellamy's right. If we leave, we may never find a place as safe as this. And God knows, in this world, we could be faced with something even worse tomorrow. But that doesn't change the simple fact that if we stay here, we will die tonight. So pack your things. Just take what you can carry, now."

"What do you think, Nova?" Atlas calls from the crowd.

Nova sighs, "I agree with Clarke. Even if we can manage to beat the Grounders who are coming we will still lose people in this war. And I want to avoid that. I don't like the idea of running away but right now, that's our best option." She turns to look at Elara, "We're not warriors. We're kids, teenagers. We shouldn't need to fight for our lives."

"Help me." A voice calls out. The group turns their heads to see a limping Raven. She's clutching her side as blood drips through her fingers.

"Murphy shot her." Bellamy says as Finn rushes to her side.

"Get her onto the dropship." Clarke calls as she and Elara make their way inside to help her. The rest of the group start collecting their things, getting ready to leave the camp for good.

#elara sinclair #nova kane #the 100 rewrite #The 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 oc

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quitetheketch-moved · 4 years

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so I’ve been seeing bad taste in youtubers, not like in my mutuals or anything but in general but it made me want to make a like, recommended list of youtubers i like who are pretty chill if not full on comrades so here we are - not prompted by anything specific but an itch I got here some of the channels I like:

Cooking:

BORE.D - Fun cooking channel with a stylish presentation

Chinese Cooking Demystified - Like it says on the tin, informative authentic Chinese dishes from all over the country.

David Seymour - started with buzzfeed taste tests but now covers most big cooking channels seeing if he can recreate them and how they are

Maangchi - Plz cook for me, like i’m begging feed me it all looks amazing

My Name Is Andong - fun cooking videos from all over, especially the ones about Russian food.

Simply Sara Kitchen - good home style cooking

Souped Up Recipes - Traditional Chinese cooking

Movies/Tv:

Accented Cinema - a video essay channel with a focus on Asian cinema

Folding Ideas - Not strictly about film but I tend to watch a lot of essayists who fall into multiple things and I kinda just have to lean into their main aesthetic but Dan is a gif so check him out.

Jack Saint - Jack and Joel have a lot of similar style of content but Jack leans into media stuff more so i’m moving him over here. (although i’ve been working on this post for over an hour going through my alphabetical yt sub list and i’m starting to regret trying to categorize them)

PushingUpRoses - a must watch if you love old tv especially Murder She Wrote

Renegade Cut - Does games too, and frankly they are some of their best work, but quality media analysis.

Ryan Hollinger - Horror movie analysis

Scaredy Cats - More horror movie analysis but my favorite channel of this kind

Gaming Essays:

Adam Millard - video essays about video games - really recommend the video on Frog Fractions and the Longing

Curio - I’m putting them here because theres been a big focus on games lately and they recently started twitch streaming which is fun but really it’s all media essay. Just please check out their four part Witcher series adfkj it’s the most recent so easy to find.

Errant Signal - I dont have much to add other than please check out Errant Signal, they dont post much but I am in love with this channel.

Game Maker's Toolkit - in depth essays about elements of game design

Jim Sterling - Okay not essays but gaming news - if you dont check out anyone else here you should still check out Jim. Especially if you care about the rights of workers in the gaming industry.

Gaming Play:

Biffa Plays Indie Games - mostly does Cities Skylines but sometimes other, great videos to relax to.

GaLm - GaLm deserves so much much than he gets, Love him been watching him for forever and honestly he’s enough of a workaholic that there’s so much content you WILL find something you like. All complete with critical analysis.

GrayStillPlays - one of the few like, non overtly left-os here but listen, if you want some slightly silly slightly more edgy style of video game videos to kinda turn off your brain and just enjoy you cant get much better than grey. He’s chaos but chaos that doesn’t rely on racism. Maybe one too many jokes about addiction but they aren’t usually punching down so???

John Wolfe - chill horror youtuber - not much to say but one of my favorites.

KatherineOfSky - want the most soothing voice ever to gently play hardcore logistic games at you? Well holy fuzzy cats, you’re home.

Many A True Nerd - Partner to Claire in the category below, known for his fallout but plays just about anything. Also loves grand strategy and paradox games. Good playlist management too do easy to find what you need.

Wanderbots - A just, massive amount of indie game content.

Commentary/Other:

Claire Rousseau - Books youtuber who is just a delight, I dont know how else to describe her but even tho I dont read anymore i’d still die for her.

Courtreezy - just the queen of being bubbly and fun (some of these I dont have good sales pitches for just *shoves them at you* give em a shot)

D'Angelo Wallace and dangelowallace - Main and second channel, both the same kind of content but the formats are different. Dont always agree with all his opinions but man, theres no fault in the way he presents and researches them - solid essayist but also just oozes charisma and good times.

Drawfee Show - one of the bigger channels here save D’Angelo above so you may already be familiar with them but just a fun weekly drawing show. Good times.

Foo the Flowerhorn - Watch fish be fed bits of blanched vegetables, like that either sells you or not but it’s Good.

Jarvis Johnson and Jarvis Johnson! GOLD - primary and secondary channels, pure commentary channel on a wide range of topics - i recommend the videos on 5 min crafts and the bachelor.

Life in Jars? - Eco-spheres and terrariums oh me :0

MacDoesIt - Gay chaotic energy, just chock full of Moods and fun times.

Sarah Z - Unofficial tumblr historian

Politics:

Big Joel - kinda variety content, plenty of media analysis but through a strongly leftist lens. Torn between here and commentary but the balance is slightly more overtly political than just media commentary through a political lens so here we go.

Black Red Guard - A black leftist commentary/essay channel focused on black issues and self described as a “New Afrikan Maoist”, this is fairly new channel I found so I’m not as good at describing his content def not better than he does but solid stuff through a perspective I wouldn’t normally get.

hbomberguy - Just watch his video on Pathologic please. Or like, watch 20 mins then go play Pathologic then come back after you’ve beaten it and Pathologic 2 and finish the video.

Innuendo Studios - Frankly I had no idea where to put this one, because it’s a little of everything but mostly media analysis but also please watch the alt-right playbook if you like, want to understand more about how radicalization happens.

KAR - Black anarchist channel, solid political videos but shorter than most of the ones here so better for consuming when you dont have much time.

Leslie Exp - Videos about disability

Luna oi! and NonCompete - frankly best agitprop communist duo. A good place to start learning about mutual aid and what anarchism is, beginner friendly videos on leftist theory.

Philosophy Tube - Videos are super polished and well made essays about philosophy, super theatrical and flashy. Honestly cannot stress enough how fun the production value of these are.

Professor Flowers - Nuanced important discussions about race, media, and the political landscape.

Some More News - Like it says on the tin, news but told to you by a disheveled fed up leftist (I joke because i’m running out of things to say in the comment for each but really, Cody and his entire team deserve a lot of credit for their well researched videos on current events)

Thought Slime - Agitprop but make it a little silly because tbh we all need some jokes rn

Honorable mentions of some slightly bigger channels you may already know but I enjoy: UpIsNotJump , Steve1989MREInfo , SmallishBeans , RTGame , Primitive Survival Tool , Mumbo Jumbo , emmymadeinjapan , Kurtis Conner , Danny Gonzalez , Drew Gooden , How To Cook That , JunsKitchen , Defunctland

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yolkyeomie · 3 years

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[blurb] — member: minho, word count: 2489, genre: e2l-esque/rockband au/female!reader/angst(?), warning: none.

note: this is a wildly out of character verison of minho so none of this is probably accurate to his actual personality. I was just tired one hand and this is how I saved myself

[11:30 pm]: “Lee Minho!” You growled. Despite the bustling energy of the dressing room before you had entered, your voice boomed over every single person within the walls limits. Those who were speaking quickly closed their mouths and others who were walking in and out slowed their hasty pace to a creeping stalk. Their eyes turned from each other to you as you stood in the doorway, hand clenched tightly around the door knob in an attempt to keep yourself calm.

Everyone could tell just by taking one glance at you that you were not here to play around as usual. The energy you exude was far too intense for anyone to even crack a smile at you. “Where is he?” You demanded, glancing around the room for the sly cat. “Where is Minho?”

“Here,” a cheery voice informed, nearly giving yourself whiplash as you turned around. There he stood right behind you, his signature black bass guitar slung over his shoulders and his mocking smile plastered against his face. Behind him stood his bandmates nervously glancing between the two of you, unsure of what exactly was going to happen next.

This scenario was something they had seen countless times before yet they still would never get used to the sight of you breathing smoke out of your nose and Minho only looking down on you with endearment. Your anger was entertaining to him, no matter how many times the out of you spat with each other.

“What? Is there something wrong?” He asked, his statement covering for his blatant ignorance, “did you not like the concert? But you had the best seat in the house?”

His condescending words easily began to fan the flame, eagerly watching as your face flickered from a look of pure bewilderment to complete wrath.

You knew Minho was doing this on purpose, yet you couldn’t resist the urge to explode. “Was there something wrong?” You questioned him, reaching out and grabbing the sterling silver chain that hung down his neck. Gasps fluttered throughout the room at your threatening demeanor as you spoke, “You really have the audacity to be asking that right now?”

“Hey, not here,” Changbin interrupted, “Not while everyone is watching. Don’t want a video of your fight to get leaked, do you?” He used his drumsticks to separate the two of you from each other, providing himself as the unprompted middle ground as he gestured toward the staff in the room.

Usually he would be all for watching you rip into Minho without a second thought, but there were too many people around to let it go unchecked. As much as he believed that the bassist deserved every inch of karma that was going to hit him, it couldn’t happen in public. They had a reputation to uphold after all.

The two of you looked around the room for yourselves, taking note of how the entire backstage room was crawling with staff members from the concert the group had held. As much as you wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you would rather not be labeled as the crazy person that barged in and caused a fight.

Begrudgingly you stepped back and away from Minho, just enough for it not to look like you weren’t going to attack him like some rabid animal. “Fine, I won’t.”

“Take it outside, somewhere private would be ideal,” Bang Chan added, whispering as lowly as possible so that any of the more... invading staff couldn’t catch him. “Oh, and don’t do anything stupid? Please? I kinda need Minho alive.”

“You heard the man,” The boy taunted, gesturing back to the band’s leader. “He needs me alive, so keep your hands to yourself this time.”

You didn’t think you could roll your eyes as hard as you did, forcing your hands to your side so that you didn’t actually harm him. The whispers and murmurs only continued to go as you led Minho outside of the dressing room, their voices drifting to your ears despite their attempts to conceal them.

“Is she some crazy fan?” “No, I heard she knows the boys personally.”

“Should we call security? What if she actually harms him!”

“I wonder what Minho did for her to act that way? Honestly, I couldn’t blame her… he’s a little patronizing and stuck up in my opinion…”

You shook off their words as the two of you walked down the corridor of the dressing rooms in silence, a stark contrast to the other staff members who were running about the halls to clean up the aftermath of the band’s concert. Every so often someone would stop to greet the two of you and ask what was going on, the sheer intensity of your auras combined quickly made them back off.

You were always the more approachable of the two but this wasn’t the right time for any of that to happen.

Soon the crowd began to thin out and for the most part, the two of you were left completely alone. The corridor you had turned down was practically a dead end so it was the perfect place for you to antagonize the bassist without running away.

“You said you’d help me with Hyunjin, to get back together with him,” you began, turning your sharp and annoyed gaze on him once again. “You said you’d get me tickets to your concert because I mentioned he was a fan of the band, so what was with that stunt you pulled on stage at the end?”

“I don’t think I understand?” The boy questioned, leaning up against the wall as he continued to feign ignorance like he had done in the dressing room with the staff. “I did exactly what you asked me to. I got you tickets, I got you the best seats in the house, I even got the other members to put his favorite song on the set list for this concert? What could have possibly gone wrong?”

“That song!” You exclaimed, “that dumb song you had created on your own but never released it for the band to play because it was about me. You played it right before the concert ended as the encore. Are you insane, seriously?”

Minho snorted at your frustration, clearly not taking the situation as serious as you were. “Are you serious? You’re mad because I played that love song without telling you? Come on Y/N, you really think he was able to tell that it was about you?”

You scoffed, almost laughing at his answer. A love song? You wouldn’t exactly label the song as a “love song”. “I understand you don’t think very highly of Hyunjin, but he knew Minho. There was no way he wouldn’t have been able to tell.”

It was so clear that Minho knew exactly what he was doing when he was on stage. As the band got ready to play their original encore song, you had caught him skipping around to stage to each member of the band. Starting discreetly with Changbin since he was the drummer in the background all the way to whispering to the lead guitarist, Jisung, near the front of the stage.

Once his words had finally reached the ears of Bang Chan, the leader gave a skeptical glance before his eyes connected to your curious one’s. He hesitated for a moment before putting on a strained smile and speaking into the microphone.

There’s been a slight change of plans in the encore, Bang Chan had announced. The entire crowd let out a wave of confusion as his dimples distracted their fans from his clear distress. I mean, who doesn’t like an unreleased song as the ending note?

The crowd let out a cheer for the change, not bothered one bit by the band switching gears to do something off script. Even Hyunjin was excited to hear the song that even he hadn’t known existed. Though both his wide smile quickly fell once the song began to play, its piercing and strong melody rang through the stadium as Minho strummed his guitar.

Minho had the most lines out of the other members of the band in that song, which was a stark contrast to his usual in the background singing. The boy was standing front and center, hands no longer glued to his guitar but clutching onto the microphone that stood before him. His voice boomed over the speakers as he sang to the crowd, yet his attention wasn’t on his adoring fans that were calling his name.

No, his attention was on you.

Minho’s eyes almost never left your figure as he zeroed you out in the crowd, his prideful smile growing on his lips as he poured his soul into the lyrics he never thought he’d sing in person. It was like he was sending a signal to you and Hyunjin, that the bond that you were trying to rekindle between the two of you would never work out in the end.

You’re mine, Minho’s lyrics conveyed, a meaning only you and Hyunjin could decipher, and I’ll never let you go to him.

“You can’t keep… you can’t keep doing this,” you struggled to convince him (or maybe you were trying to convince yourself?). “You can’t keep trying to interfere with my relationships! I’m my own person, Minho, I like other people! You can’t keep going on like this.”

“I can’t keep going on like this?” He repeated, in shock that you would even have the audacity to say that to him. Minho pushed himself off the wall as he approached you, his stereotypical vile temperament that his staff deemed him as showing through his usual cool head. “I’m not the one who keeps running back to the same person whose heart I broke every time we have a fight!”

Ouch, what a low blow. But it wasn’t like Minho was… lying? As much as you wanted to deny it, every time the two of you got into it you’d go running to Hyunjin afterward.

You needed something different from the constant fire and ice of you and the bassist's quarrels and that was exactly what Hyunjin was. He wasn’t the sheer cold of the winter storm like Minho was, just a pleasant breeze along a hot summer day. That’s why you were so drawn to him at first, that’s why you had jumped head first into a relationship with him, and that’s why you couldn’t exactly let go of him after you had broken up.

So despite Hyunjin being the better of the two, why was it that you only ran to him for comfort? As soon as he had given you what you desired you were back to trailing behind the band’s footsteps. You were back to walking and fighting with Minho.

“Do you really like him?” Minho asked, his tone a little harsher than he planned. Though he didn’t apologize for the attitude as he continued to speak, “Do you really want to be with Hyunjin again or is this an excuse to keep playing with me?”

“It’s…,” you hesitated, why must he ask this up now of all times? “It’s complicated, Minho! Not only that but it’s none of your business to pry into my relationship with Hyunjin? You’ve already done enough damage—”

“Y/N, tell me before I figure it out in a way you aren’t going to like,” he blurted out, finally snagging the words out of your mouth for good. What did he just say? “Do you really still like Hyunjin? Or are you just using him at this point, because it really feels like the latter when you keep hanging around me and not him.”

You stared back at him wide eyed, struggling to form sentences in your head and deciding to spit out whatever you could. “What are you talking about? You mean like use him to make you jealous of something? That’s petty, Minho, I—“

“One,” he began, reaching for the guitar strap on his shoulders to discard the instrument.

“How I feel about Hyunjin is none of your business,” you tried to argue. “See you’re even doing it again! Trying to force your way through when things don’t go your way. I’m supposed to be the one who is asking for answers anyway!”

“Two,” Minho continued, ignoring your rambling as he dropped the bass onto the ground without care.

“Fine, I like him. I’m in love with Hyunjin, are you happy now?” You answer, though the words feel foreign on your tongue as you bite at him. “This fights and bickering we do mean nothing to me, your stupid encore song meant absolutely nothing to me. So stop trying to press forward already.”

Minho stood in front of you quietly, his face contorting in disapproval as he tried to process your answer. “You’re so good at fighting with me but you’re so bad at lying.” He shook his head, amused disbelief donning his face as he took a hold of your shirt collar in the same motion you took his chain necklace. “Three.”

“Why are you intent on this, hm? You don’t like being the one who is toyed with instead of the other way around?” You hissed, snatching his hand off of your shirt with as much strength as you could muster. “All you do is take, take, and humiliate. Get a grip, Minho.”

The boy hesitated for a moment, hovering just inches above your face and his eyes darting around the room. He should have known that you still would have the energy to argue with him, that never ending flame in your chest that kept lighting the cigarette of your relationship.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called, making you and Minho glance over your shoulder and down the corridor to spot a figure at the foot of it. You immediately recognized it to be the Hyunjin, the fool peering down curiously and a sheepish smile stretching across his face when he finally saw you. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I knew you were backstage. I just didn’t know how long you’d be here for. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, of course,” you respond, your tone immediately going soft as you shoved Minho off of you. The way you spoke to Minho and Hyunjin respectively was so different from each other, one would think that you were two separate people. “Just give me one moment?”

The boy nodded, giving an awkward wave toward Minho given the fact that the last time the two had interacted was the situation during the encore. Though the bassist gave no response as you turned back to him, your original rage replenished as you finally addressed him for the last time. “Don’t ever sing that song again. Not around me, not around your bandmates, not around your fans, no one. I want every bit of its existence erased from my memory.”

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sneezefiction · 4 years

Text

dreaming of you

Sugawara x Reader - Scenario

@0hakaashi‘s request: “can I request suga with #11 (dreams)? ty💕”

a/n: sometimes you write fluff... sometimes that fluff is sickeningly sweet and makes you want to cry out of pure comfort and warmth. have a little taste of that with Sugawara tonight, my loves <3

warnings: none!

wc: 1750

---

Sugawara’s apartment has seen some pretty crazy things.

It witnessed that wild, drunk dancing phase of yours that knocked over way more than just a few breakable items. Your first kisses as a couple and endless domestic, morning pecks with the ever-so gentle boy. It watched as a multitude of sleepovers went from being strict study nights to early morning giggles thanks to distractions like a new song release, Napoleon Dynamite dance routine attempts, and melted ice cream on cherry-tinted lips.

The poster-covered walls knew you better than some of your closest friends. You’d left your mark there. With little, accidental chips and water-stains on wooden furniture. On that old, grey carpet that caught several pain-induced tears, while the rest of your crying was usually muffled by Suga’s thin, white t-shirts. By adding a toothbrush as well as shampoo and conditioner to his bathroom.

You, Sugawara, and this nostalgia-drenched apartment have experienced quite a lot.

And, even if it hasn’t all been perfect, you’ve been lavished in over a year's worth of sunkissed memories. Days that would always start snuggled up under his chin, feeling the reassuring rise and fall of his sturdy chest. With the tenderest of touches, he’d caress your cheek using the back of his hand every morning without fail. Every time you opened your eyes to his chestnut-brown irises, your heart would flutter involuntarily.

It almost seems fake. That this world, which used to be dull and lifeless, could paint itself into a rainbow of colors only the two of you could see.

Once again, you’re splayed across his bed on your stomach, stopping the gentle sway of your legs and placing your phone down in front of you to see Suga’s silvery tufts of hair, his honey-brown eyes gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling.

You’d spent the night at his place again and, as per usual, the morning is quiet. The first 20 or so minutes filled with stretching, phone-scrolling, and snuggles.

He reaches his slender hands upward, stretching his arms toward the open air of the quiet bedroom.

A heavy, golden stream of sunlight casts the shadow of a window onto your wall, along with the outlines of his fingers and thumbs. But as soon as he loses interest in the gleaming sunrise colors that dripped down his hand, Suga drops his arm and lifts himself up to face you, seeking an answer.

Words as soft as a young bird’s feathers ruffle the silence of the cool air.

“Would you be mad if I got super cheesy right now?” Suga asks cooly, his question genuine.

You tilt your head, a small smirk forming because you’ve seen this face before. It’s the look you got before he lavished you with sweet sayings and almost sickening, lovey-dovey phrases.

You used to fuss at him, flick his forehead, cover your face in embarrassment… the whole nine-yards just to avoid his compliments and the tingly feelings that followed.

“I have a feeling you’re just gonna say it anyways, so you might as well.” You roll your eyes, propping yourself up on your elbows and using the palms of your hands to hold your chin.

“You know me so well.” A cheeky grin spreads across his face.

Suga shifts himself up and over to you as he gently lays his head onto your middle.

It’s a tingly, ticklish sensation. His consistent show of closeness and affection always had you melting into him, like clay being warmed by a careful potter's knowing hands. Your hands automatically start carding through his unreasonably soft hair and he hums into the touch before continuing his thoughts.

“Y/n, you’re so good to me.” He breathes out, beginning to build his web of thoughts.

“Things have just… flowed well for me ever since you came into my life.” Suga tilts his head back into your brushing fingers and strokes your thigh with the back of his hand.

“You always make me laugh, you understand me, and wow are you gorgeous. You’re pretty much perfect.” He says while a smile forms on his visage and heat rises to your own face along with a copycat smile of your own.

But the conversation takes an unusual turn.

“And, well, I dunno...”

“...sometimes it almost feels a bit unreal.”

He huffs out an amused sigh because the words sound much funnier out loud than they did in his head. But he might as well continue. You’ve heard him say much weirder, far more… questionable things.

You tug lightly at his sterling strands. With a soft, “Mhmm,” and an unseen smile, you prompt him to continue.

“I’m serious! You’ve somehow even managed to work your way into my dreams most nights, actually.” He admits, letting out a breathy laugh, your own soft giggle following.

He notes how nice it is to feel you laugh against his head, mentally snap-shotting the moment. But Sugawara wants to add one more thing, twisting the moment slightly. Something that could potentially pause that splendid laughter.

“...so when I wake up, I always wonder if you’ll actually still be there... y’know, with me...” The hand that was once twirling his hair now pauses its movements.

You shift yourself upwards so that you’re sitting with your back snug against the bed’s headboard, moving Suga’s head to be in the center of your lap.

With his face more readily availble to you, you’re now tracing the outline of his features while processing his words, gazing deeply into an unreadable expression.

“So you’re trying to tell me…” You brush a few strands of hair away from his eyes, cocking your head to the side with a look that says, ‘Are you being serious right now?’

“...that because things are going so well right now...”

You lean in closer to his face, which lays perpendicular to your own. “...hell, maybe a little too well...”

“...and because I somehow interfere with your subconscious while you’re asleep…” Your nose brushes gently against his, a small flush coloring his pale skin.

“...that you’re worried I might just up and leave you someday?” You quirk an eyebrow and a small smirk appears on your face.

It was an unfounded insecurity... and most insecurities don’t like to listen to logic.

He averts his gaze, a hint of embarrassment flashing in his eyes.

You hover over his face a little longer before tilting your head to ghost your lips meticulously over his.

Even though you’ve taken the initiative, it’s impossible to not get a little flustered with his minty breath gently fanning over your face. You become acutely aware of the subtle shifting of his hands, pressing ever so slightly into the bed at your close contact.

Suga’s golden-brown eyes close and just as he lifts his head off your lap to steal a kiss, you teasingly lean back earning the sweetest of pouts in return.

At your refusal to appease him, Suga rolls his head to the side, avoiding eye-contact with you.

“Well now I just feel silly.” He sulks, face jokingly downcast and blush lightly tinting the apples of his cheeks.

You can’t help but chuckle softly. Your boyfriend has always been a funny one, but it’s hard for you to believe that he would have so little faith in you. Even if it was a passing doubt, you never wanted him to think that the absence of good times meant that you would leave him too.

Because Suga had made a point of always being there.

Always sticking around. Never leaving you, a teammate, a family member, or even a lost stranger behind. He would take anyone by the hand and lead them to a safe place with utmost care. Hell, you bet that even in his dreams, he would still clasp your fingers tightly with his and not let go unless you absolutely begged him… though you doubt that the dream version of youself would ever be stupid enough to ask Suga to untwine your hand from his.

So you decide to be the cheesy one for a change.

You lean over him once more, but this time you use both of your palms to draw his face toward yours. A beautiful, squinty smile adorns your once teasing expression and greets his soft, pouty one. You proceed by blowing cool air into his eyes, causing him to shut them in mild discomfort, which allows you to sneakily take his lips into yours, melding them together tenderly.

He immediately responds by lifting up one of his hands to caress your face, deepening the sleepy, sunrise kiss.

It’s warm and comforting.

And as though a cool breeze had just brushed over your skin, you feel a shiver run down your arms when Suga gently tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth.

Sitting up a little, Sugawara finds himself taking in your saccharine taste. His thumb pleasantly skims over your cheek causing you to smile slightly, breaking the flow of the slow kiss.

As you pull away, you could almost melt at the adoring gaze Sugawara gifts you with. All he can do is blink gratefully at you while relishing in the rare, precious silence. He’s right in front of you, sitting up just enough for the sunlight to catch his silver hair, gracing it with a shimmering gold halo of sorts.

You let out a contented sigh and lean forward to place your forehead on top of his shoulder, inhaling his clean lavender scent. It’s fresh and soft. A little smoky even? It might be from that cologne you gave him last Christmas. Nostalgia combined with a hint of sweetly fragranced detergent. You hum into his white t-shirt and he rests his cheek onto the side of your head.

At his touch, you simply decide that he smells like home.

“Hey Suga…?” You whisper through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Hmm?”

“You’re a little weird...” A humorous, closed-mouth smile forms on both of your faces.

“Hey now, I thought we were having a moment?” Suga sighs into your hair, some of the lose strands tickling your ear in the process.

“Let me finish!” You quietly huff in mock exasperation.

He nods and you sink a little deeper into the crook of his neck, prompting him to place his arms around you to pull you closer.

“I was gonna say: you’re a little weird, but I’m glad I’ve somehow made my way into your dreams.”

There’s a pause, a breath, and an exhalation.

“I’m glad because I always want to be with you. Whether it’s here in the real world or up there in your pretty little head.”

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies, @vintgicals, @moonlightaangel, @starboybokuto

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