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roidepoison · 8 days

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Reo Mikage is Actually Great BPD Representation- Some Thoughts

So I had the extremely unfortunate experience of being exposed to Blue Lock (unfortunate because it's all my tiny pea brain can think about now), and while it is absolutely full of silly guys whose brains I want to pick, this little bugger really stood out to me. The second he came onto the screen, I KNEW I smelled the borderline on him. As I watched the series and read the manga, I noticed he is actually an incredibly well-written depiction of someone struggling with BPD. Reo is a super layered character and my favorite hobby is picking apart those layers and yapping incessantly about them, so here we are. I want to write this analysis for a few reasons:

1.) Too many people misunderstand Reo and categorize him as dramatic or childish without any elaboration and he deserves a proper character deep-dive. I think him being borderline explains a LOT of his reactions/choices throughout the story.

2.) Borderline representation is extremely important to me. I'm diagnosed borderline and have struggled with this disorder for around ten years now, so I get really excited when I spy BPD-coded characters (especially if they're likable people and not just ghoulish irredeemable villains or manic pixie dream girl characters). This disorder can be so isolating, especially when the majority of people will never even bother to research or understand it. I know that some people like to chalk Reo's emotional reactions up to him being a moody 17-year-old, but I think I have enough evidence to prove that this is undiagnosed BPD that's festering in his noggin. Not to mention, literally nobody else acts like this in the series. Reo is incredibly unique and distinct in the way he behaves through this narrative and I think it's way past the point of normal teenage angst. Regardless, believe what you want. He'll always be my borderline princess tho <3

3.) I have a master's degree in English and what good is that if I don't write long, painful, pointless essays on anime guys? Not that this is exceptionally well written, I just like to laugh at myself for getting a whole M.A and then this is the shit I publish online lmao

By the end of this, I hope I can shed some light on wtf is going on inside of Reo's silly little head. (I'm also obviously not a psychologist, don't use any of this to diagnose yourself pls I don't need the scandal)

If you want to read, buckle up, because this is gonna be a long one!

First, let me define BPD- It's a personality disorder characterized by a long-standing pattern of instability in mood, interpersonal relationships, and self-image. At its core, it is a disorder categorized by emotional dysregulation (the inability to regulate one's emotional responses) People with BPD feel everything EXTREMELY hard. That's important to keep in mind IMO, because while their reactions may seem dramatic or extreme, what they're feeling IS dramatic and extreme. Everything they're feeling is amplified, so their reactions are amplified. Obviously from the outside, people assume it's an overreaction since they can't see what's going on inside the borderline's head. When you sit down and dissect the thought process of someone like Reo, it becomes a lot easier to understand why they react the way that they do to certain situations.

(Also, I'm not going to reiterate more than once that an explanation is not an excuse to treat people poorly. I cannot read ANYTHING on BPD without hearing every 2 minutes how the disorder isn't an excuse to hurt other people. We get it!! I'm explaining it, not excusing it. This enter essay is an analysis of why someone acts the way they do, not whether or not it's excusable)

So then, what behaviors/signs does somebody need to exhibit to receive a borderline diagnosis? The 9 diagnostic criteria for BPD are as follows:

1. Fear of abandonment

2. Unstable or changing relationships

3. Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self

4. Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors

5. Suicidal behavior or self-injury

6. Varied or random mood swings

7. Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness

8. Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights

9. Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality

Someone would only need 5 of these to receive a proper diagnosis. Just with the main story and the spin-off manga that is currently released, I think I have enough evidence to argue that Reo has 8 out of 9 criteria for a BPD diagnosis. For the sake of organization, I’m gonna group some of those together though, indicated by a + symbol. I also want to define a few important terms before I start yapping, so that y'all without BPD can understand wtf I'm even talking about.

Favorite Person (fp) - This is someone who holds massive significance in a borderline's life. They emotionally depend on this person a lot and to a certain extent, their worldview almost revolves around them.

Splitting- the change in perception of someone or something caused by black-or-white thinking or dichotomous thinking. It is the devaluation of someone who was once idealized and vice versa.

Mirroring (aka: the chameleon effect)- the constant, unconscious change in one's identity or sense of self by imitating another person’s behaviors, characteristics, or traits. It is common in people who have a vacant or distorted self-image which is a general symptom of BPD.

Now, time for me to break down the most prominent moments where Reo showcases borderline behavior. As I mentioned, I'm going to try and organize this under each criteria point (with some being grouped together)

Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self:

Before I delve into Reo's relationships, I want to start with his baseline sense of identity. It’s established early on that Reo is a very bored, empty, unsatisfied person. Nothing excites him, nothing motivates him, and everything is handed to him. He’s frustrated because his parents notoriously try and buy his affection even though he doesn't want anything. For most of his life up until the narrative starts, he's wandering through life empty and frustrated. That is, until he finally sets his sights on soccer and decides to dedicate his life to winning the World Cup:

The wording, 'proves my existence' is interesting here. I think this is the first instance Reo has felt alive. So far, the only notable thing about him has been his family and his money. He hasn't achieved anything exceptional for himself, but now he has that opportunity. With this goal, he can really build something up from nothing and make it his own. It's almost like he's clinging to this dream to prove that he has some purpose in his life other than being the family heir.

Now, this dream changes when he meets Nagi, of course. I'm not gonna focus too much on their relationship in this section, but I will mention that meeting Nagi shifted Reo's entire dream, and not for the better. Through the narrative, his dream went from:

Winning the World Cup

Winning the World Cup with Nagi

Proving to Nagi that leaving him behind was a mistake

Improving himself and becoming a good striker on his own

Being a tool for Nagi to become the best striker

Had Nagi not come in and ask for Reo to come back to him, I think Reo could have done a great job at establishing his own sense of identity without Nagi. But no matter how much he works on himself, with Nagi in the picture, he's never going to value himself more than Nagi. Reo lets Nagi cloud his identity to the point where Isagi calls him out and asks what he's even doing at Blue Lock in the first place, since he clearly can't survive on his own, he needs Nagi with him.

After dealing with the turmoil of being abandoned by Nagi, Reo goes through a few stages. He starts with wanting to become somebody worthy of being beside Nagi, somebody that Nagi would want to choose. Devoting himself to becoming stronger and more versatile, his end goal is to have Nagi realize he made a mistake by leaving him behind. After a few more matches, Reo starts to realize that he needs to grow and change and become a stronger, better version of himself for himself and not for other people.

He decides that the fight was all his fault to begin with, that he should have never forced Nagi to play soccer and now he is going to get back to what his dream was originally, combined with his new desire to be a stand-alone player (and person, for that matter). Reo accepts the mistakes that he made, admits that he shouldn't have forced his ideals onto Nagi, and resolves to become a better person for HIMSELF. That's excellent!

Of course, Reo can't be happy for TOO long. Nagi comes out of the woodwork saying that he can't beat Isagi on his own and asks for Reo's help. Reo does stand up for himself a bit, saying that Nagi is being inconsiderate of his feelings and mentioning how long it took for him to recover from Nagi leaving. Now, the BPD trait here is how Reo not only forgives Nagi and is jumping on him and hugging him THE NEXT PAGE, but he also just disregards everything he said in this sequence. In a matter of two minutes, he no longer wants to be a player that can fight on his own or improve for himself, he wants to improve for Nagi. He starts ruminating again about how hurt he was when Nagi left, but now he's saying all of it wasn't so that he could get stronger individually, it was so that he could be reunited with Nagi again. Nagi asking for his help and saying that now they can play together again motivate Reo more than anything we've seen so far. (Nagi notoriously throws Reo little affection crumbs like this that Reo eats up, but I'm not trying focus on that) Now, Reo's alright with being a tool for Nagi's success again. Everything that happened was supposed to make him stronger so he could be a better partner to Nagi, right? Reo also says as the chapter ends, to please let him be a part of Nagi's dream until Nagi becomes the world's best striker. That's literally so sad!

He's also immediately back to the 'our' 'we' 'us' talk as well. If he can master his chameleon style in order to keep Nagi above the rest of the players, he wont get left behind again. If he devotes his time and energy into being a solo striker like the rest of these guys, Reo knows that he wont be able to keep up. This was always supposed to be his role, right? Building Nagi up to his full potential! :*)

I also like the detail that Reo is back to hugging Nagi and holding him, but Nagi never really touches him back. I think Reo's love language is touch for sure, not that it's incredibly relevant, but I do think it shows that Reo is back to being 100% comfortable around Nagi as if their fight never happened. I hear a lot of fans asking how Reo could have forgiven Nagi so easily, and I say this with my entire chest, it's the BPD. The black-and-white thinking combined with Nagi being Reo's fp and the excruciating pain of being abandoned by him in the first place ?? Of course he's going to take him back. Also, I've seen people blame Reo for not saying no to Nagi when he asks for help and I have to say that is an absolutely insane take. How are we gonna look at a panel where Nagi asks for help and then blame Reo for helping him?? I'm not going to focus on it too much in this post but in my opinion, it is crazy how little accountability both the narrative + fans give Nagi. Reo is pegged as responsible for both of their downfalls and it's nuts tbh.

Currently in the story, I think Reo's identity is still centered around Nagi. It's really easy for borderlines to structure their entire lives and personalities around their favorite person, but I can only hope that these two keep having open and honest discussions with one another. Hopefully, Reo will eventually learn that he can exist without Nagi and that he's more than just 'his arms and legs'.

Unstable or Changing Relationships:

The most notable relationship in Reo's life is Nagi. They're both each other's first real friends, which already sets up a less-than-ideal dynamic. Nagi has no idea how to communicate and he has pretty weak emotional intelligence. On the other hand, Reo is great at communicating, but he isn't used to regulating his emotions. For a lot of borderlines, they can go a very long time without experiencing any symptoms when they don't have a favorite person. When you think about it, the bulk of the disorder is shown through those interactions with other people. If Reo has never had a real friend in his life, I don't think he'd be used to the emotional turmoil that comes with having a fp.

The minute Reo meets Nagi, he's attached. All his classmates notice it, too. They question why Reo is suddenly so obsessed with this random kid who has no interest in him. Reo is ignoring everybody that isnt Nagi.

Very quickly, Reo boils down his view of the world to being him and Nagi versus everybody else, and he makes that very clear. It also depicts something that I think is incredibly crucial to Reo’s character that a lot of people overlook; as Nagi develops to be Reo’s favorite person, Reo’s dream isnt ‘playing soccer’ anymore. It’s Nagi. It’s being with Nagi, playing soccer with Nagi, being useful to Nagi, taking care of Nagi, and being somebody important to Nagi. He doesnt teach Nagi the rules or how to actually play, he teaches Nagi how to play with him. He literally re-writes and re-structures the game so that it can center around him and Nagi. Nagi calls him out on this in the spin-off manga:

Reo doesnt care about the structure of the game, he cares about Nagi. The other people on the field don't matter. The other team doesn't matter. He also starts to unknowingly put Nagi up on a pedestal, which is another borderline trait. He starts reiterating that Nagi is special, he's different from everybody else, he's destined to achieve great things. The more he raises Nagi up, the more he isolates the two of them in his mind, reiterating the idea that it's them against everybody else. His language reflects this too: Reo exclusively talks with 'us' 'we' 'our', insinuating that they're going to do everything together.

When Ego says that there can't be two winners, Reo says that he'll make Nagi the best striker. His 'ego' will be making Nagi successful. Along with putting Nagi on this pedestal, Reo also very early on establishes the fact that he'd pick Nagi over himself any day of the week. He's the only person in Blue Lock who really couldn't care less about becoming a striker himself: his dream is to be a tool in Nagi's success. Or, in simpler terms, he wants to be useful and make Nagi happy.

These two were in trouble from the very beginning. Nagi is lazy as all hell, has 0 motivation to do anything, and his dream is to live a life of luxury and never have to work. Reo, being the borderline baddie that he is, is more than happy to do EVERYTHING for Nagi. Borderlines love extremely hard! It's one of our best traits and I think it's important to showcase that Reo is a massive sweetheart at his core. He clearly loves Nagi a lot and goes to extreme lengths to make sure he feels taken care of. To someone with BPD, NOTHING is too big of an ask for a person they love, especially if that person is their fp. I also disagree with the argument that Reo 'made' Nagi codependent. Nagi likes being taken care of, he says it all the time. If you ask me, I would actually argue that Nagi takes advantage of Reo a little bit because he knows that Reo will do anything for him. But regardless, I think that Reo starts to develop an unspoken expectation with Nagi that he'll provide him with everything he needs, and in turn, Nagi will stick around. I don't think he's doing this intentionally, nor do I think it's being done in a manipulative way. I just think that Reo has a dormant fear of being abandoned that he doesn't totally know he has yet.

It isn't just Nagi that Reo showcases having unstable relationships with, though. Zantetsu is another good example. Reo starts out disliking Zantetsu, he snaps at him a couple times, and calls him a moron more than once. He starts to warm up to him because Nagi tells him to. The favorite person has MASSIVE sway in the borderline's life. If Nagi likes someone, Reo likes them too. (This is, of course, on the condition that they aren't a threat, looking at you Isagi).

In the immediate next chapter, Reo is acting like they're all best friends. He's climbing on top of them in their big bed, saying that the three of them are gonna win their matches, being a little pookie. He goes from not liking this guy at all to considering him one of his close friends super fast. Also on the topic of Isagi, when they're making up the teams for the second selection, Nagi doesn't initially want to tell Reo that he wants Isagi on their team bc he's worried Reo will be upset. But, when he does finally say it, Reo is literally fine with it because like I said, who Nagi likes, Reo likes! On the condition that they don't replace Reo, which clearly happened soon after.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Reo also shows how he can go from loving someone to despising him very quickly. After Chigiri and Kunigami tell him to get back up in the game post-Nagi's abandonment, we can literally see the switch flip in Reo's head:

Suddenly, he hates Nagi. Nagi's a jerk who abandoned him; he never cared about him, and he threw him away. Dude literally says "Let's kill the bastards that betrayed us". This act of unintentional devaluing is called splitting. What Reo's essentially doing is going from one extreme to the other: if Nagi isn't his perfect treasure, he's the devil that broke his heart. There's no room for a grey area. The reasoning behind borderline's developing this black-and-white mindset is rooted in self-defense. If Reo devalues Nagi into being nothing more than a traitor, then he's stripping away the power that Nagi has to hurt him. If he looks at him like a rival or a villain, it's protecting him from being hurt by Nagi again.

That doesn't mean that he genuinely believes any of this, more so, he's trying to convince himself that it's true. We see that at his core, the reason he's acting like this is because he's hurt. I'll go more into it later on, but he's constantly thinking, what does Isagi have that I don't? What do I have to do in order to win Nagi back? This black-and-white thinking is an automatic self-defense mechanism that I think he's doing subconsciously. Regardless, the shifting he's doing here can cause a little whiplash, which brings me to:

Varied or random mood swings + Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights:

I can’t think of a better way to describe Reo's temperament than the wiki, so let me quote it: "Generally, he seems to feel every emotion with full force and is extremely aware of his own faults and shortcomings, which is evident in several instances of painful breakdowns shown in the spin-off manga. Due to his high emotionality, he can even get violent when he loses his temper."

Reo is characterized as being emotionally unstable. When he's happy, he's elated! When he's sad, he's miserable. There are a ton of scenes between the manga and spin-off manga that show how fast his emotions can flip, but this one was one of my personal favorites:

In this scene, Reo has developed a little scheme in the dining hall where the guys are trading their side dishes. At face value, a throwaway moment. But, I think it's worth looking at because not only does this show Reo's emotional response being triggered in an opposite, semi-extreme direction, but the root cause for the reaction was that he felt rejected by Zantetsu. In his own weird way, he's asking Zantetsu to come over and hang out with him. He's not being exceptionally clear with that message, but I can still pick up on it. "You wanna join in, don't you?" He's extending the invite, making himself vulnerable, and Zantetsu shoots him down by saying nah, I'm fine with my noodles. Reo JUMPS on him like YOU KNOW WHAT? I TOOK THAT PERSONALLY! lol. Jokes aside, I think this moment is a great one to argue Reo's BPD tendencies because it's such a seemingly mundane interaction. Even Zantetsu is surprised by Reo's random outburst. This also sets up the fact that one of Reo's most obvious triggers is being rejected/abandoned/betrayed, an extremely common one between those of us with BPD.

Other instances of Reo having a bad temper are a lot more obvious. In the match against teams V and Z, Reo straight up elbows Raichi in the throat, and then tries to go throw hands with Kuon for hurting Nagi. He only stops because if he gets into any more fights, he’ll get thrown out of the game and won't be able to play with Nagi anymore. He’s visibly pissed though and calls Team Z a joke. Hell, even Reo himself can recognize on a certain level that he can't control his emotions: they control him. They cloud his judgment and make him react in ways that he wish he didn't.

He is constantly plagued by these extreme emotional reactions that are out of his control. Not to say that people with BPD are unable to ever control their emotions, because we can! It takes time and therapy and practice though, which Reo hasn't had. His lack of regulation is also why he has such a dramatic and extreme meltdown when Nagi abandons him.

Fear of Abandonment:

Reo's biggest trigger and the cause of his inner turmoil throughout Blue Lock is his fear of abandonment. I mentioned before that I think he's had this fear dormant inside of him for a while as so many borderlines do, since he hasn't had the chance to experience it before. He alludes to it early on when they first arrive at Blue Lock:

The thought of leaving Nagi for somebody else? Reo considers that heartless. They came together, after all. They're going to win the world cup together. Nagi could break both of his legs and Reo wouldn't leave him, because again, Reo isn't there to team up with the best player and become the best striker in the world: he's there to play with Nagi!! And, like I said, in Reo's mind it's him and Nagi vs everyone else-

Reo exhibits a lot of signs early on of being jealous while they're playing in Blue Lock. I mean, as we discussed, everything should be focused around him and Nagi. When Nagi passes to Zantetsu in the team V and Y match, Reo pulls up like 'hey, why didn't you pass it to me?? ):' There are a lot of little moments like that, but Reo's jealousy is a lot more relevant to my argument after he gets abandoned by Nagi.

Let's talk about that word: abandoned. It seems dramatic, right? Reo uses that term constantly and exclusively. Every time he brings that moment up, he uses the word 'abandoned', or he'll say 'betrayed' or 'chose'. These are very definitive words. He’s not saying Nagi ditched him or flaked on him or blew him off, no; he has abandoned him. That word choice may seem disproportionate to the situation, but that's Reo's reality. This was the ultimate betrayal to him. The constant use of that vocabulary reiterates that in Reo's mind, there is no grey area. Either Nagi chooses him, or he chooses someone else. In choosing someone else, he abandons Reo. Reo is paranoid that Nagi isn't ever going to come back to him and it's because of something that Reo is lacking. How can Nagi like Isagi more than him, anyway?

Now, I do fault Nagi a bit for not communicating better at that moment. I understand that he's bad at communication, but I don't think Reo could have been more obviously upset if he tried. The dude was in TEARS. Nagi saw him devastated and then expected everything to be fine when he met him in the bathhouse? Idk. I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and say that he didn't realize it would upset Reo to such an extreme: maybe he thought that they would miss each other, but Reo wouldn't take it personally. I'm doing my best not to harp on Nagi since this is about Reo.

Abandonment is detrimental to people with BPD. It causes extreme inner turmoil that we see with Reo as the story progresses because it is the only thing he can think about. If he isn't trying to cover up his hurt feelings with this idea of revenge, he's self-destructing over being abandoned. He becomes obsessed with wondering why Nagi chose Isagi over him. Was there something wrong with him? Isagi isn't that impressive, why would Nagi rather be with him? These thoughts torture him endlessly and fuel his desire to 'steal' Nagi back. He literally says to Isagi, that he's going to steal Nagi back. Much to his dismay though, Reo starts to notice that Isagi is bringing out some positive traits in Nagi. Nagi's entire vibe is different with Isagi. Nagi is having fun playing soccer without Reo. In fact, he's having more fun. He's making plays he's never made before. His face is visibly different; he's more excited than before.

This is heartbreaking for Reo. Not only was he right that Isagi did have something to offer Nagi that he couldn't, but Reo is having a massive self-hate spiral during this point as well, so he's internalizing all of his flaws and mistakes while the thought is sitting in the back of his head: did Nagi actually have a good reason for abandoning me? Was I not enough to satisfy him? Did I only drag him down? This gets significantly worse the longer he watches Nagi and Isagi play:

Everything is falling apart. Nagi is doing completely fine without Reo, and Reo is an absolute mess. We're circling back to Reo's lack of identity here as well. He's watching firsthand that he's losing Nagi to Isagi: what does he do? What happens to him if he loses Nagi, who is he without Nagi? He's overwhelmed during this match and at one point Reo literally screams that he's going to tear apart their connection. Jealousy is consuming him, but it's also those feelings of inferiority and wondering if he really did deserve to be abandoned. If Nagi is so happy without him, maybe he really did have a reason. These are the thoughts that are circling around in Reo's head. Not to mention, he is constantly tortured by the flashbacks of Nagi leaving him, which I think is a great detail. Some readers might say it's just pointless recapping but I disagree, I think it's depicting how traumatic that was for Reo. As a borderline, being abandoned by your fp IS traumatic. Reo relives that moment so many times because so many things trigger it for him throughout Blue Lock. He can't even look at Chigiri and Kunigami without thinking about him and Nagi. It's a really devastating experience that quickly deteriorates him emotionally.

Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness + Suicidal behavior or self-injury:

One of my favorite things about Reo is the fact that he is self-aware that he's behaving somewhat irrationally, but he doesn't know how to stop. When we look at one of the several times that Reo is curled up crying over Nagi, he mentions how he really did want to tell Nagi to go and have fun, but he didn't. He couldn't. The visuals shift for this too:

Reo doesnt want to be acting this way, but he can't help it, and that's frustrating to him. It makes him start feeling ashamed of himself. His inner thoughts start to spiral and he feels weak and alone. He's reflecting here on what his true feelings really were at that moment, and how scared and lonely and weak he felt as a result of Nagi leaving him behind.

These feelings quickly evolve into Reo feeling worthless and falling into bouts of self-hatred. He's so ashamed of the way he's feeling and behaving but it feels so out of his control. He says, "maybe if I hadn't gone to Blue Lock in the first place, I wouldn't have to experience this feeling." As I said before, borderline's feel things EXTREMELY intensely; the disorder is described as living with third-degree burns all over your body. Everything hurts. His feelings are so intense and all-consuming right now, it's all he can think about:

I saw some posts in the fandom reddit asking why Reo is acting like this. One in particular reads: "I get that he is betrayed and stuff but he is acting like it’s the end of the world, is it explained later why he acts like this? Is it because he doesn’t think he can win without Nagi?" Not to call this person out, I just want to answer the question in this post-

It has nothing to do with winning; it was never about winning. It was always about Nagi.

If we're looking at Reo through the borderline lens, it IS the end of the world for him. Nagi was his world. What's worse, he's fully aware that he's not acting rationally and he doesn't know why, which is making him feel ashamed and weak and embarrassed. Now I know why he's acting like this, but there are no Blue Lock psychiatrists sitting around to wack him with the mood stabilizers or the DBT handbook, so he's gonna stay feeling like a monster.

He lets these thoughts, along with the resentment and anger from being abandoned in the first place, fuel him for the second selection match. As he's watching the game play out, as Nagi is about to score the winning goal, Reo's mind starts racing with intrusive, negative thoughts.

He's praying that Nagi fails, that he gives up, that he stops trying, anything to stop that solidifying moment where he scores the winning goal and proves once and for all that not only was Reo not strong enough to stop him, but Nagi doesn't need him anymore. He catches himself really quickly, because he realizes he's sounding just like his parents. Everything is spinning out of control so bad, Reo wants Nagi to end up in a vulnerable position so that he isn't the only one falling apart. As he catches himself thinking this, he's disgusted with himself. He calls himself 'utter trash', and as he watches Nagi score the winning goal, he falls to his knees, wishing he was dead.

As he sits there decomposing in emotional turmoil and suicidal ideation, Nagi's team chooses Chigiri to join them, and it's the nail in the coffin. This is probably Reo's lowest point in the entire story IMO. Nagi comes up to compliment him on his plays and Reo shows us another classic borderline move: he's anticipating how bad it's going to hurt to be abandoned by Nagi again, so he's trying to push him away before it can happen. We see the dichotomy of his spoken words and inner thoughts here, where he's talking big game to Nagi, saying things like 'you clearly don't care about me anymore, you're throwing me away, if you're going to abandon me just do it properly', while internally he's thinking 'I'm the worst, I wish I was dead, please take this bait and break my heart so that I can self destruct in peace'.

i LOVE the visuals during this moment. This is what Reo thinks is his last line of defense, the last thing he can do to preserve any part of his dignity is to make Nagi hate him so that he'll stop throwing these crumbs of affection at him. It's also really telling that despite his switch in behavior and the devaluing of Nagi, the root of all of that is STILL that he was so hurt by the abandonment.

I don't think I need to analyze the suicidal ideation because he just straight up says he wants to die like three times in this scene but, aside from that, the visual of his inner thoughts vs what he's actually saying is so powerful. Not to mention the chameleon imagery which i'll geek out about in a second, this is another example of his black and white thinking along with the reiteration that being abandoned was literally traumatic for Reo: he says they can never go back to what they were before. Speaking as a borderline, this is painfully true. When people break my trust even in a small way, I can never view them the same as I used to. I can forgive them and let it go, but I'll never be as open with them as I once was. In Reo's shoes, he had Nagi up on this pedestal that he was perfect and would never do anything to hurt him, but he did hurt him (in the worst way possible).

After Nagi tells him he's a pain in the ass and that he doesn't care anymore, Reo thanks him for 'finishing him off'. In his mind, they're done now and he can suffer in peace and quiet without dragging Nagi down anymore.

Bonus Point: The Chameleon Effect

I LOVE THE FACT THAT HIS THING IS CHAMELEONS AHHHH

The chameleon imagery with Reo makes me INSANE dude. As I mentioned towards the beginning of this post, a part of borderline that is seldom talked about is the tendency to take on 'the chameleon effect', or mirror the people around them. REO'S ENTIRE THING IS CHAMELEONS LIKE BFFR ?? That image where he was trying to get Nagi to hate him, was before he even started using his chameleon style, it was just something the authors thought was necessary to include during Reo's mental breakdown. Aside from the cool imagery, his chameleon style is a reflection of his relationship with Nagi. He gets called a jack of all trades and a master of none early on in reference to how when he’s without Nagi, hes not really exceptional at anything. He never really took the time to master one specific thing because he was always so concerned with helping Nagi. This rings my BPD bell for a couple reasons: first of all, when you have no sense of identity and you’re worried it means you have no real personality ?? Steal one!! Take the closest person to you and copy that one. That’s something us baddies know VERY well. Also, think there’s something about you that your fp doesn’t like? Change it! You can morph into anything they want as long as it means they won’t leave you !! :*) Before he makes up with Nagi, he copies moves in hopes that it'll make him stronger and appear more desirable to Nagi. After they make up, he copies whoever he has to so that he can get Nagi to that goal and make himself useful, make himself somebody that Nagi wants to have around. It is a literal direct metaphor for him changing anything and everything about himself for Nagi and graaaahhhh it’s so cool

Reonagi ?? Some thoughts-

I want to close this yap session with my thoughts on Reonagi as a ship. I do think that they can work and I want to make that clear. I'm not on board with the 'borderlines arent capable of having loving and fulfilling relationships' crap. That being said, they both have to put in a bit of effort. Reo has already recognized a lot of his own issues. He admits that he was wrong for pushing his ideals onto Nagi, that he needs to let Nagi grow and be his own person, etc. Nagi really hasn't accepted any fault. I stand by the fact that Nagi needs to be more sensitive with Reo. Way too often when a relationship like this fails, all the blame is put on the one with borderline. I'm gonna be the outlier here and say that if Nagi cares about Reo, he needs to learn about Reo's triggers and be mindful of them. I'm not saying that since Reo is sensitive to abandonment that Nagi should just isolate himself from everybody else, but what I am saying is that when he's going to do something that doesn't involve Reo, he needs to learn how to communicate that he still loves and values Reo. "I'm gonna go play soccer with this person right now, but I haven't forgotten about our promise. When I come back, we can play together. I still love you and I'm not going to leave you for whoever tf I'm playing with rn." (sneaking that 'i love you' in bc like..they're literally canon at this point asdfghjkll) But, I do think that Nagi loves Reo and cares about him in his own way. The two of them just have to keep working on their communication skills. Nagi has the potential to have a hot rich husband who will literally bend over backward for him and buy him all the robux he could ever want, he's gotta put in a shred of effort!

I also like to think that Nagi didn’t totally get the fact that Reo doesn’t gaf about just playing soccer. Nagi thinks soccer is what they do together, it’s what makes reo happy, right? He’s always pushing him to train harder and take the game more seriously because he likes the sport, RIGHT? It would make perfect sense to go play with isagi so that he can get better at soccer and come back to reo a more improved player. Maybe that’s why he was surprised when Reo was so mad in the bathhouse, bc he wasn’t making the connection that Reo cares more about him than soccer. That Reo puts all that energy into him playing soccer because he thinks it’s something that they can have as their own, and once Nagi notices how good he is, he’ll start enjoying it and the two of them can hold hands and run around the soccer pitch!! I think Nagi missed that part tbh, and I don’t think he know that even now in the story. Maybe Reo doesn’t even notice it.

Anyway, a shameless plug to my reonagi playlist if that's your thing (i cooked with this one, i fear) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CsvSqmuI4cxOl1nTaV4GJ?si=737a0f21e0bd482a

Closing Thoughts:

Reo is a bpd baddie and I love him very much. I think he's a sensitive guy with a lot of feelings who would benefit from taking time to work through his trauma and his emotions. I hope that he eventually is able to build an identity for himself that doesn't involve Nagi, but baby steps, I suppose. I think Reo is a great balance of positive and negative borderline traits and he reads as a really believable and sympathetic character. He is, however, definitely that friend that you have to slap to stop them from running back to their ex.

Jokes aside though, BPD can be extremely hard to live with, even more so when it's undiagnosed and untreated. If someone you love has BPD, take the time to read up on it and do your best to understand them. I promise you, it will mean the world to them.

If you managed to get this far, thank you for reading! This was a messy stream of consciousness and I appreciate your support by listening.

#blue lock #reo mikage #reonagi #nagireo #nagi seishiro #bpd

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boyled-eggs · 3 hours

Note

Pls can you write hcs about dating john egan 💕

oh hey! yeah, here u go!

john egan's been with many women in his life, but none like you.

no, you were something else.

beautiful inside and out, you were the type to hold close under the moonlight and have deep conversations with, never breaking eye contact.

you made john whole and he you.

you got him saying things that he never thought he'd say.

he told you he loved you out of pure unadulterated adoration and not as a meaningless confession from the orgasmic bliss of being deep inside a pretty woman.

he didn't caress your lips with empty kisses, laced with the intention to never meet again after an emotionally detached one-night stand. no, your lips molded perfectly with his, making you one, breathing, living, loving entity.

you two were practically inseparable.

not just as a matter or physical closeness, but emotional too.

it was hard to believe such a thing would be possible outside the pages of a love story novel written by naive authors yet to experience the limits of real-life romance, but it was like you could feel what bucky felt and he could feel your feelings.

like if you two were apart for whatever reason and you were hit by a sudden wave of sadness, you'd know bucky was either missing you or watching a rom-com flick

he'll never admit that he watches rom-com flicks. and that he cries during them.

"your wish is my command, my love"

no like he'll literally go all out for you.

like even as something as inconsequential as you admiring a pretty lil' flower on a tall tree would turn into him climbing said tree to go get that specific flower for you to wear in your hair.

defo defo defooo takes his jacket off and puts it on your shoulders when you are cold.

"no, i'm not cold", he'd say, shivering profusely.

heart eyessss. 😍😍

no fr this man looks at you like you are his world.

like if you left his sight for even a minute, he would cease to exist.

he CAN NOT stay away from you.

your arms = his haven

wrapped in your arms, nuzzling into your neck and inhaling your scent as your legs wrap around his waist are his favorite way to be. he could continue to exist this way forever.

in your arms, between your legs <3

some nights, the two of you would press your foreheads together, holding each other close and feeling how you breathed in tandem, each breath you took had his name on it and each breath he took belonged to you.

you both could never be too close, even with him inside you.

you in a sundress is this man's kryptonite.

he himself can't explain what you in a sundress does to him but a switch just flips in his head upon seeing the thin fabric of the sundress hugging your body perfectly, with the little bow in the back of the dress, wrapping you up like a present for him to unwrap and savor.

he is not the type of man to change the way he treats you around his boys.

it is always hands on you, and him being like "yes, baby", "of course baby", "i love you, baby"

sometimes when he can't sleep at night, he would just let his eyes trace the terrain of your perfect features, committing every dip and curve and freckle and dimple to memory until his eyes felt heavy and all he could dream of was the soft smile on your peaceful face.

do not let him cook, he'll burn the house down!!

he can sit and watch you cook though.

which he does, smiling the whole time, proud.

"my girl cooks so well and looks amazing while doing it, of course i look at her like that"

movie night with him will be less about watching the movie and more about letting said movie play in the background and have his hands be all over your body and your hands all over his body.

man always had shoulder pain for some reason.

so you give him a massage which he is incredibly thankful for.

you are also thankful to be able to give him a massage because hot damn his broad shoulders 😩😩

he doesn't know how to relax through a massage, like he'll just keep yapping through it

"oh, wow, babe, the oil smells so good, oh wow, your hands feel so soft, i'm so glad i have you"

you'll have to knead that one spot in his upper, upper back that make his entire body go slack, like a temporary switch-off button that only you can find. the only sound coming out of his mouth then is an "oh god" that he moans out deeply, sending butterflies fluttering in your tummy.

he sleeps like a baby afterwards.

he'd look so adorable with a perfect curl over on one of his eyes, covering his naturally curled lashes that trail over your soft skin of your cheek when you and bucky are close. his perfect lips slightly parted, as if he was still drowning in the pleasure of that soothing massage. his cheeks go red like they do when bucky's drunk.

drunk bucky sweats buckets like he'd ran a marathon.

he'd have to take off his jackets and scarves (that you forced him to wear because it was so damn cold outside)

"bucky, wear at least the jacket" "no baby, it's too hot here"

"no, i'm not cold, this is fine, i'm fine" - the shivering man 10 minutes post taking his jacket off in the cold

nicknames, nicknames, NICKNAMES!!

princess, my love, dove, doll, darlin', honey, sweetheart, the love of my life.

all great names, don't get me wrong, but what really got your heart skipping beats was simply the mention of your name.

and this was an effect only bucky could have on you. no one ever took your name the way he did.

it was inexplicable, just like him with you and your sundress.

your name, each syllable escaping his precious lips, had you melting in mere seconds.

bucky gives me such house husband vibes

"no, honey, you're off work today, i'll do all the weekend cleaning, you just sit back and rest."

10/10, will defo put a plush lil' pillow behind you to support your lower back and a lil' forehead kissie after that 🥺🥺

sun bathing together and bucky kissing your sun-kissed skin all over, the feeling of the sun's warmth on your supple skin driving him crazy, it was like he had discovered a new kind of drug.

there would be nights where he'd go to the pub with you and forget to drink himself senseless because he would be too busy drinking you in, the intoxicating effect of holding your gaze being enough to get him high.

you made him feel bliss. you are his paradise.

#john bucky egan #masters of the air #john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader

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rezzyromance · 3 years

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Idk if this is how you request things or if it's just asking, BUT-

How would the Lords react to an S/O that's usually the chillest person that you will ever meet (not to be confused with a pushover because they are not), they've never seen them even mildly annoyed when something bad happens. But then something happens and, turns out, the S/O is utterly TERRIFYING when they're mad.

Hope this makes sense!

Aw man I'm gonna feel awful scaring Moreau and Donna :(

Alcina

You're relaxing on a beautiful morning. The sun is shining through the window just enough to warm the room but not hurt your eyes. You hadn't even changed out of your sleep wear. "How are you feeling, my dear?", a sweet voice rang from the doorway. You were sitting in your favorite chair near the window. You turn and smile at her. She walks over and rubs your face in her large hand before leaning down and giving you a soft kiss. "I'm feeling amazing. And you?", you grab her hand before she pulls it away and you place a kiss on her knuckles. "I'm feeling alright. There's a new maid here. She's a bit slow. I'm giving her until tonight to finish dusting the entire castle or else she won't see another sunrise." It was almost comedic how dark her words were as you both stared out the window and gazed at the beautiful scenery. "Come on Alcina.", you stand up and place your hands on hers, trying to hold them despite the size difference. "Give the girl a break. It's a huge castle AND it's her first day.", you knew your words would probably change nothing. Alcina was rather cruel, but you looked past it. You tried your best to make the nervous maids comfortable whenever they arrive.

"We'll see how she does." She gives you one more kiss before leaving the room. You sit back down in your chair, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a little while longer. You lose track of time, minutes maybe even hours go by. Suddenly, there's a crash not far from the door. You jump and stand up, no longer comfortable after being startled. "What in the name of Mother Miranda?!", you leave the room and look down the hallway. The new maid stood there with a terrified look on her face. In front of her was one of the paintings Alcina had on her walls, now with a broken frame and a hole punctured. Your blood began to boil. It was a painting of you, her, and the girls all together. It was your favorite. "How in the hell did you manage to do that?!", you begin to stomp towards her. She cowers and struggles to find her words. "I-I-I was just dusting! It fell and I-I didn't mean t-", you cut her off. "How the fuck did you knock such a large painting over just by dusting?! DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO MAKE SUCH STUPID MISTAKES HERE?!", you unravel. "I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!", she almost begins to weep. "SORRY ISN'T GONNA SAVE YOUR ASS!"

"MISS DIMITRESCU PLEASE HELP!", she cries out. You freeze, realizing that the lady herself is right behind you. You turn to face her. Her eyes are wide with shock. She has never seen you like this before and never even knew you had this type of side to you. She was impressed as much as she was terrified. "(Y/N)? Are you alright my love?" She had no idea what to do as your seething slowed down. "Why don't you go back to the room, yes? Settle down a little and deal with her later.", she places a hand on your back helps walk with you back to the room. Once you're there, she bends down to whisper in your ear. "I don't know where this side of you has been this whole time, but I am so amazed by you. And also a little frightened."

Donna

The Beneviento house was usually a calm place despite its creepy aura. You and Donna are both quiet and chill people. Never once have you fought or even raised your voices at each other. It was pleasant.

You had planned a nice dinner for the both of you. You wanted to try out a new recipe and surprise her, so you made your way to the kitchen to get started. "Okay, what first? I guess I'll need a pot.", you go rummaging through the kitchen and you find the pots stacked within each other inside one of the top cabinets. You groan and stand up on your toes, grazing the pots with your fingers. It didn't take much to cause them to tumble down, crashing on top of you with a loud sound that followed. "Aw shit.", you sighed and picked up the knocked over pots. A small but annoying pain began to throb in your head from where it made contact with a pot. What you didn't notice was you forgot to pick one of the pots up. It remained unnoticed. "It's fine.", you say to yourself as you maintain your composure. Next, a cutting board and knife. You turn around and begin to walk forward to find the cutting board, but you slam your toe into counter. You wince in pain and grab your foot. "SON OF A BITCH!", you yell.

You calm yourself, still wanting to have a pleasant meal with Donna. "Alright. Everything's fine." You step forward and kick the pot that you had forgotten to pick up. It caused your freshly kicked toe to ache even more. "OH COME ON! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!", you scream and swear as you throw your arms up in pure rage and shock.

"...(Y/N)?", a gentle voice whispered from the doorway, causing you to whip your head in that direction. It was Donna. She looked absolutely horrified and almost looked like she could cry. "Is.. is everything... are you alright?", she worried. "Yes. I'm sorry. Just got a little pissed off.", you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, feeling bad for scaring the poor girl.

Moreau

You were sitting on the dock together, looking into the water as your feet swung back and forth above it. It was a sunny day and you two decided to spend it outside. Your hand slowly made its way over to his. His feet stopped swinging for a second as you entangled your fingers. "I don't know what I'd do without you, (Y/N)." his words were bitter sweet as a gentle smile formed from his lips. "Oh, Sal. You don't have to think like that. I'll always be here for you.", you kiss his cheek and continue to relax as you sway your legs.

"There it is! There's the beast!", a voice yelled from not so far away. You both look in the direction of the voice and see a few young village boys. Possibly between the ages of 13 and 16. Moreau had become some what of a scary story for the villagers. A tale that kids spread on school court yard and bring up during dares. But, you've never seen a kid brave enough to actually make it far enough into the reservoir to actually see Moreau. Now, there were about 3. All of them stood and pointed, shocked and terrified.

"Hey beast! Come get me!", one kid teases. You glare at the kids as a newfound rage begins to boil inside you. "Let's go back inside.", Moreau says before standing up from the doc. The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. Suddenly, one of the children gathers the guts to pick up a rock and throw it as hard as he could. His aim was off, but not by much. It slammed into the wood near Moreau's feet, startling him. "Take that you devil!", he laughs. "THAT'S IT YOU LITTLE SHIT!", you begin sprinting in the direction of the immature brats. Two of them run from the direction they came from while the one who threw the rock was frozen in fear. You took the opportunity to grab him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here you little waste of space. I'm gonna give you 3 seconds to turn around and run for your goddamn life. If you or any of your little snot-nosed friends come around here again, they'll be goddamn fish food. Do you understand?" The kid was too scared to speak and instead began to nod rapidly. You let him go and watched as he ran as fast as he could, screaming the whole way.

You walk back to the shack and find Moreau standing in the same place he was when you took off. His mouth was agape and he looked almost as scared as the kids. "You alright Sal? I made sure those little shits won't be coming around here anymore." "Yeah... I didn't know you could be so... scary", he says. "I'm sorry. But those kids were being cruel. I had to do something.", you say. "Well... it was awesome!", he smiled. "But also very scary!" You laugh which helps sooth him a little.

Heisenberg

"Screw driver.", is all Karl said with an outstretched palm. He was working on some type of mechanical heart for his experiments. He wanted you to lend a "helping hand" even though he could easily do it all by himself. He did this because he wanted to be around you, he was just too stubborn with too big of an ego to simply say it. So here you were, handing him every little tool he asks for.

"Do you want the big one or the little one?", you say with a hint of boredom in your tone. "Aw c'mon don't sound like that! Isn't this exciting? It's like you're working on it with me! Also, hand me the big one.", you do as he says and hand him the big screw driver. "I just don't get it. You literally have powers. You can easily do this by yourself and have been for so long. Why do you need me to help?" He pauses for a second and looks over towards you, his brow slightly furrowed. "I don't NEED you to help. I just thought it would be nice for you to help out. Plus, you're the one always bitching about me constantly working. Well, here you are! Helping me work! So, either suck it up or you can leave." His harshness had no real ill will in it. He was just confused and a bit too ignorant to consider his words. But, he was testing your patience. He continued to use the screwdriver until handing it to you without saying a word.

"Hand me a screw.", he demanded with his hand facing palm up again. "Which size?" "They're all the same sizes, dumbass." You feel your blood begin to boil. "They're different fucking sizes! This one is smaller than this one!", you hold up two screws that are obviously different sizes. This makes Karl angry. Not because you were right, but because you seemed upset over something that seemed so insignificant.

"If you came here just to yap in my ear, then I don't think I need your assistance.", he huffed. You put the selection of tools and supplies he was making you hold on the table he is working on and ball your fists. "You're the one who told me to do this in the first place!", you yell. "Yeah, because you won't stop bitching! Non-stop you're always compla-" you cut him off before he can finish. "SHUT UP!", you yell. The room goes silent. "YOU SAY I'M BITCHING? HAVE YOU HEARD YOURSELF? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST KARL YOU BITCH AND MOAN ALL THE TIME! I'M DONE TAKING SHIT FROM YOU!" He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. He felt something much more overwhelming. Was he.. intimidated? He didn't move from his seat. All he could do was look up at you with a confused expression. What now? What is there to do? If he pushes you further, what would happen? He was actually too scared to find out.

You take a deep breath to calm down before speaking. "Now, if you want me to help with your shit, I'll stay as long as you keep your mouth shut. Can you possibly manage to do that?" He gulps nervously. "Yes ma'am."

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itsallyscorner · 3 years

Text

Teaming Up with Sam and Bucky ft Zemo

Pairing: FEM!Reader; Bucky Barnes x reader, Sam Wilson x reader; platonic(?), let’s throw in some Zemo x reader

Summary: What it would be like to team up with our favorite duo. Takes place during TFATWS.

Warnings: none, TFATWS SPOILERS. Lowkey a mess :D

A/n: Ever since TFATWS came out I’ve been reminded of how much I love Bucky and Sam. Also I have a new found love for Zemo. I’ve just been so obsessed with this series and I’ve been reading so many fics about it, so I decided to finally write my own :) Enjoy my loves❤️

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

✧───── ･｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

You’re basically working with a bunch of children.

The children mostly being Sam and Bucky, though Zemo does have his moments once he joins you three.

You’ve known dumb and dumber for a few years now, being part of the Avengers, you’ve worked with Sam on multiple missions. The friendship blooming somewhere in between.

You were also close friends with Steve; when he first came out the ice, you were assigned to help him adjust to the modern world by Fury. He would tell you a bunch of stories of him and Bucky running into trouble or Bucky always saving his ass whenever he was getting beaten up.

Eventually, you finally got to meet Bucky, though he wasn’t Bucky, he was the Winter Soldier. Your introduction to each other was quite memorable to say the least.

He choked you with that metal arm of his and for a split second you swore you might’ve found it attractive—till he threw your body against a car.

You sided with Cap during the accords and helped him protect Bucky. When that whole mess was over, Steve asked you to stay with Bucky in Wakanda to make sure he would be safe.

You were the first person to have some kind of bond with Bucky. Before and after he was freed from Hydra’s hold on him, you were always someone he knew he could trust.

When Steve told you what he was going to do while retuning the stones he told you to watch over them.

“Promise me you’ll keep an eye on Buck and Sam?” He asked you, sitting on the edge of your bed. He had snuck into your room late at night, knowing you were wide awake.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly, a lazy smile on your lips, “They don’t need me, I’m sure they’re capable of surviving on their own.” Steve breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, “You’d be surprised.”

“But seriously, (y/n), they need you. You know how they get when they’re together. You’re the only person in the world who knows how to deal with the both of them at the same time.” Steve reasons, his baby blues sparkling in the darkness of the guest room of Tony’s lake house.

“Make sure they’re not on the verge of killing each other or running into too much trouble?” You tiredly nod, sleep slowly consuming your body. “I promise, they’re gonna be alright, Steve.”

Sometimes you found yourself looking up at the sky, cursing at it—or Steve—for leaving you with two of the most childish and stubborn men you’ve ever known in your life.

You were like the mother of the group; breaking up fights, making sure they skipped no meals, patching up their boo-boos, etc.

“Will you stop staring at me?” Sam snapped, tossing his goggles onto the seat beside him to glare at Bucky.

“I’m not staring at you.” Bucky remarked from across Sam. His flesh and metal arm crossing with each other as he stared at Sam challengingly.

“Yes, you are. Your eyes are connecting with mine. You’re literally staring at me right now!” Sam pointed out, to which Bucky rolled his eyes at.

“Because I’m talking to you, genius. I wasn’t staring at you.” Bucky quipped.

“Yes you were!”

“No I wasn’t!”

This continued till they were sick of bickering with each other, finally yelling out your name for help.

The arguments were straight up petty. Bucky wouldn’t admit it, but he was the pettiest.

Exhibit 1: “LoOKiNG StrONg jOHn!”

Like seriously? Bucky’s the pettiest bitch, nobody can tell me otherwise.

You and Sam would definitely find it amusing how Bucky doesn’t trust Redwing.

Obviously, you all despise John Walker. Just the thought of him left a bad taste in your mouth.

He was like a fly that you all couldn’t get rid of. But because you were all painfully patient people—mostly you and Sam—you had to deal with his bullshit despite the way he annoyed you all.

Totally loosing your shit when Bucky helps Zemo break himself out of prison.

“Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.” You groaned, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose together.

Bucky looks at you with feign innocence; his mouth agape and puppy eyes. “I—didn’t do...anything(?).”

“You helped Zemo break out of prison didn’t you?” You crossed your arms at him, hip jutting out. As if on cue, Sokovian sugar daddy walks into the abandoned garage you were all in.

Before you can explode on him, Bucky tried to calm you down, “Wait, I technically didn’t do anything though! It was his plan!”

Zemo definitely lives up to being the ✨Sokovian Sugar Daddy✨ of your dysfunctional group.

I think you’d all be surprised at how rich he was. The amount of connections he had wasn’t that big of a shocker.

No like seriously, homie was pulling all sorts of shit out his ass; cars, private planes, houses in different countries, etc.

You all had a love hate relationship with Zemo. On days when he was actually helpful, you all got a long. On the days when things got horribly messy, Zemo couldn’t even let a word out since Sam would tell him to “shut up”.

Though that still doesn’t excuse the fact that he got the Avengers to spilt up and go against each other.

When you guys are all hiding out in one of Zemo’s apartments or homes, you would probably cook breakfast, lunch, or dinner for everyone.

They actually loved it when you cooked because it made the atmosphere feel a bit homey and calm compared to the current situation you were all in.

You were the person they can all go to. You were easy to talk to, making it easier for them to open up to you.

You always checked in on them mentally and physically. For example, you knew Sam felt guilty about giving up the shield, but Bucky never made him forget about his choice. You were there to reassure him that he thought he was doing the right thing and didn’t know the hidden agenda of the government.

You were like their on the go therapist, babysitter, and partner.

Sometimes Bucky and Sam would even argue for your attention.

“Can you stop hogging (y/n) please? Her ears might fall off from hearing you yap all day.” Bucky said as he gently took your arm and dragged you away from Sam.

“You literally spent the whole day with her yesterday, you’re the one who needs to stop hogging (y/n).” Sam argued, grabbing onto your other arm.

“I didn’t get to spend time with (y/n).” Zemo mentioned from his seat in the kitchen, a glass of whisky in his hand. Bucky simply turned to him and pointed, “NO!”

Honestly what’s a friendship with Bucky and Sam without some harmless flirting. They weren’t gonna lie, you were gorgeous, the most attractive one out of the group.

When you guys had to go undercover at Madripoor, both times with Zemo and Sharon, you had to wear dresses that were a bit revealing. Maybe your chest was a bit shown, but the dress definitely showed off your legs.

“So what do you guys think?” You stopped at the bottom of the stairs of Sharon’s apartment, doing a little spin to show off your outfit.

Both Bucky and Sam’s jaws drop, Zemo probably nodding in approval in the corner.

You can’t forget about the nicknames: maybe doll, sweetheart, or darlin’ from Bucky and the typical Louisiana Cher from Sammy.

While fighting against the Flag Smashers or anyone in general, you guys always had each other’s back.

You could directly be fighting someone, but you’ll naturally have an eye on Sam and Bucky to make sure nobody was sneaking up on them.

It’s a given that you all patch each other up after some fight.

You were all very protective of each other. If there’s one thing Sam and Bucky can agree on, it’s their instinct to protect you.

Like how you kept an eye on them, they also kept their eyes on you. Even though they knew you could hold your own.

“Could you walk?” Sam asked you as you laid on the concrete floor. You were double teamed by a couple of Flag Smashers. Two super soldiers against a normal person, you totally got your ass handed to you.

You pushed yourself up to rest on your elbows, “I’m fine, just got dropped kicked twice, but I’ll be fine.”

Sam smiled at you, “That’s my girl.”

Though the two can be a handful and argue almost every minute, you loved the both of them tremendously. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

Lucifer? Who Shrank the MC…?

Undateables reacting to the "Lucifer, I Shrunk the MC" scenario. Special thanks to @yuki-kaminari who asked if there'd be an Undateables continuation. I'm not as comfortable writing the Undateables as I am the Brothers, but I'll usually be willing to try if someone would like me to. 🙂

IMPORTANT: Continuation from “Lucifer, I Shrunk the MC...” The background is in that post!

Diavolo

Okay, so it was a little embarrassing for yet another magical mishap to affect one of his exchange students. He was sure to make his disappointment known to Satan. Bad Satan. Clean your room.

… But in all honesty, tiny!MC is probably one of the cutest things he's ever seen! Even cuter than the little D's!!

He can't help but want to pet their little head with his finger or let them climb all over his "giant" hands like they're playing on a jungle gym.

He doesn't say anything but he loves it when Lucifer brings them to meetings and always sends him off to do something at least once so he can spend some time with the tiny human himself.

He once brought them one of those little bouncy balls and the two spent a solid five minutes seeing if they could balance on it. They almost had it, but Lucifer came back into the room and "advised" his Lord to stop playing around. 😔

Is probably going to be the saddest of all when the spell wears off. Even sadder than Beel. At least the brothers got to see their little friend everyday, he only got to at meetings! He may pout about it for a little...

Barbatos

Knew this very thing was going to happen since they got here and was already prepared when Lucifer brought their newly tiny friend into the conference hall.

Takes the Asmo approach of just getting them tiny items so that they can at least feel a little more comfortable with their new size.

Have you ever seen a tiny china set? Teacups and everything? He got them one of those and he serves them tea through a little eyedropper.

He's always been helpful to them but now it's like he doesn't even need to be asked. If there's something they can't reach, he's already getting it down for them. If there's something they need, he's already on the case. It's like he can read their mind…

Or he has meticulously memorized how the next five-ish days are going to play out so he can make this scary and possibly dangerous experience as comfortable for them as possible.

Secretly doesn't trust the brothers to take of/keep tiny!MC safe in the slightest, no matter what the future says, so checks up on them more than normal just to be safe. Would have probably put Belphie on his Shit List if Satan+MC hadn't have punished him already.

Simeon

Goes full “Mom” mode the moment he sees tiny!MC in Satan's hand. "MC?? What happened?? Are you okay?? How did this happen???"

So incredibly careful with them you'd think they were made from paper and glass. Every touch so soft and light, they're about as gentle as the angel himself.

Takes it upon himself to bring them around RAD when Satan isn't able to. He likes feeling like their protector, a guardian angel if you will. 🤭

Thinks watching them try to do things is sooo adorable. His favorite is when they try to read books because they have to walk across the pages then roll the paper aside with their whole body when they want to turn to the next one.

Won't ever let them struggle very long though. They get over the book thing by having them sit on his head and read while he turns the pages for them.

In fact, he likes carrying them on his head a lot. His hair is incredibly soft and it's easy for them to accidentally fall asleep up there. Mammon yells at him every time he catches them like that because he thinks the Head Carry something only he should be allowed to do.

Luke

Freaked out at first just like Simeon. Of course demons would end up doing this sort of thing to MC! What else would you expect?

Tries to lecture Satan on being more careful but he just brushed it off with, "Simeon, your dog is yapping again." Poor baby...

Honestly kind of likes tiny!MC almost as much as the big one. They kind of remind him of a fairy like this! All they’d need is wings too...

Also tries to step in as their protector, but since most of the demons kind of walk all over him anyway he ends up agreeing that job is probably better left to Simeon...

Decides to try and challenge himself to make the World's Smallest Cake for them. It takes him two days of attempts, but he eventually was able to present them with a beautifully decorated, two-tiered cake about the size of his thumbnail!

Beel still somehow sniffed it out, though, so it was a bit of a challenge to get it to them in the first place... 😰

Solomon

Incredibly amused that the size changing book he lent Satan ended getting used on MC and not on Lucifer like he was intending.

He knows a spell or two that could return them to normal size but since no one ever asks him directly, "Oh nooo looks like we're stuck with a super small and cute MC for a few days. Whatever shall we do…?" 😏

Noticeably visits the House of Lamentation a lot more when the MC is tiny. He's always got an excuse of course: needs a book, going over some homework, thought about dropping off some lotion for Asmo, etc. But really, even Belphie picks up on it and he's asleep most of the day!

Tries every excuse in the book to get the MC away from the brothers so he can have some time with them himself. He’ll ferry them away to Purgatory Hall, the Shopping District, RAD, anywhere as long as it’s just them.

He'd never come right out and say it, but he thinks they're absolutely adorable like this and wants to enjoy every minute he can with them before the spell wears off. He’d cast it on them again if he could get away with it...

Satan and Simeon learn pretty quick that they cannot leave MC alone at RAD for very long because Solomon will find them and then they'll both be straight up gone until the last bell rings. First time it happened, Satan almost tore the whole school down looking for them... Lucifer was not pleased.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons #honey i shrunk the kids?

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mrs-hilmarson · 3 years

Text

Ocean Eyes (Part 1)

Pairing: Tammy x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6K

Taglist: @peggycarter-steverogers @imgayandmymomdoesntknow

A/n: Hey guys. Sorry for the wait. Life has been so busy as I just became a certified therapist and just life stuff in general. This is just going to be a mini fic for fun while I work on writing my next big one- which will be for Cordelia! Literally nothing like Run to Me, so I hope you don’t find it disappointing. Just a little filler while I work out the plot for my next story!

You pulled out your phone, checking the time. 1:53 PM. Your interview was at 2 o'clock and if you didn't figure out where you were quickly, you were going to be late. You walked faster, panic dialing your best friend who had gotten you the interview.

"Hello?" the sweet voice chimed on the other end.

"Sarah! Help! I'm lost," you pleaded, looking at the address on the piece of paper in your hand and trying to match it to the towering houses around you.

"How did you get lost? I gave you the exact address. Did the driver put it in wrong?"

"No. I made the Uber drop me off at the entrance to the neighborhood because his car looked super sketch and I didn't want the mom to see me step out of a car that looks like it was used in a 70's porn film. I started walking and I got lost."

You heard Sarah shuffling around in the background, and what sounded like the tapping of keys.

"Okay, give me the address for the closest house," she said. Your best friend was a life saver.

"Uhhh... 768 Elm Street," you told her, trying not to look suspicious in this wealthy neighborhood.

"Hmmm. Okay you're literally two streets over. If you go to the end of this street, take a right and walk less than two blocks. You'll make it to maple from there. You somehow managed to be right behind her house. It will take you about ten minutes."

Shit.

"No! There has got to be a quicker way! I am going to be late!" You whined, stomping your feet on the sidewalk in frustration.

"Yeah, Tammy is not going to like that. She is very patient but she's got three kids so she really only has enough patience for them. Well wait, hang on a second."

"What? Did you find a quicker route?"

"Sorta. You should have just stayed in the Uber."

"Sarah I did not want to pull up like Will Smith from the Fresh Prince of Belaire, now spit it out already!"

"Well that house you are standing in front of? Technically if you could find a way into their backyard and through the trees... you could get to Tammy's house in half the time."

You looked at the house in front of you. It looked more like a post office than a home. Large marble columns, real gas lamps framing a shiny oak door, and a second floor balcony that seemed larger than Sarah's whole apartment. This is not the type of property you just meandered around on, but this job was also not the type of opportunity you just let slip away by being two minutes late.

You walked a little to the side of the house, and there you found your favorite thing of the whole house: A gate to the backyard.

"I'm gonna do it," you say to Sarah, who had been quiet this entire time.

There was more silence, before you heard your best friend draw in a breath.

"Don't get arrested please. Call me when you're done, or in lock up. Either way, be safe."

Sarah had always been someone who just supported and loved you no matter what. Whether it was moving on a whim to another city and crashing on her couch indefinitely or trespassing through a rich family's yard to get the job that would help you get started on your dreams. She was that type of friend and you loved her for it.

You didn't even say goodbye as you hung up and checked the time again. 1:55 PM mocked you on the screen. You shoved the phone in your pocket before quickly looking around. No one was out and about thankfully probably due to the heat picking up, so you walked briskly over to the gate.

You said a prayer and begged the universe to be kind to you under your breath as you forced yourself to find the courage and flung open the lock to the gate, letting it swing open. You looked around the yard really quickly to find it empty as well. Maybe this wouldn't be hard at all.

You closed the gate behind you and you quickly jogged into the yard. There was a picnic table close to the other side of the fence and you would be able to hop right over! You breathed a sigh of relief because everything was going to plan, until the dog.

A ear piecing yap began sounding through the yard like an obnoxious security alarm. You turned and saw that the back of the home was basically one big window and there inside was the ugliest looking purse dog you had ever seen, notifying every living creature with working ears within a mile of your presence.

You watched horrified as the owner of said ugly dog appeared in the view of the window like some horror movie on a tv screen. An older woman, dressed as if she had been in the middle of a workout, was also now yapping at you angrily and making her way to her giant window wall.

Your feet started moving before you realized what was happening and you bolted to the back of the yard and onto the picnic table, jumping and throwing one of your legs over the fence. The little old woman made it to a sliding glass door, releasing her dog and profanities towards you.

The dog tore across the lawn, but thankfully was no actual threat. You looked at the woman as you threw your other leg over the fence.

"I'm not a criminal! I'm sorry! I just got lost on the way to a job interview. You have a nice home!" you yelled, trying to prove to this stranger you were not bad, just had poor execution of your ideas. You dropped over the other side of the fence and into the wooded area behind the home, running as fast as your feet could carry you from the angry woman and her angrier dog.

It only took you about a minute of running full force to make it to another fence, a fence you were praying was Tammy's. You ran around the length of it, following it to the front of the house. You shakily pulled out the paper from your pocket and checked the address. You had made it. This was the house. You laughed, more relieved than anything, and jogged to the front door.

You knocked and weren't even able to take a full breath before the door opened.

There before you stood the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. Her hair was the color of sand on the beaches of heaven its self and her eyes looked like brownies fresh from the over, and you had the strange thought of wanting to burn your mouth on them.

Y/n, that's weird. Stop it.

You stared at her, trying not to look to heavily at her gorgeous smile at the fear she may think you were looking at her lips. Even though you kind of were. You forced yourself to smile back.

"You must be Y/n," she said, looking at her watch, "and you are right on time. Let it be known I find that super attractive."

You chuckle nervously, unable to process a coherent thought. You really just hoped she couldn't tell you had just ran through the woods to stand stupid on her doorstep. Thankfully it didn't seem like she did and stepped aside, letting you in.

The home was gorgeous and lavish, but also homey and seemed lived in. You could hear the distant laughter of children somewhere in the house and portraits of what you could only assume were those children hung on the walls. You did notice though that there was a lack of family portraits probably due to the husband no longer being in the picture.

Sarah had filled you in a little bit about the family situation. She had worked with them over the summer and was working for them when they filed for divorce. Supposedly neither of them seemed upset by it, but he had still decided to move into another town. Tammy supposedly worked a very busy job and with three rambunctious kids, help was needed. Sarah had helped them occasionally, but Tammy needed something more permanent and hopefully that's where you would come in.

You followed Tammy into a big open kitchen and sat down with her at the kitchen table.

"Can I offer you some tea or water?" she said sweetly.

Even though you were parched from the mini marathon you had just ran, you politely declined. You pulled your resume out of your bag and put it on the table. Tammy reached over and took it, looking at it before smiling back up at you.

"I know Sarah said you had just moved here, so what brought you to town?" Tammy asked.

You hoped the look of confusion was not obvious on your face because you were expecting only questions about the job. You were unsure how useful you would be talking about yourself right now.

"Uh, well I came to town for a fresh start, and with Sarah here, it just seemed like the best place to restart."

"Running from something?" Tammy asked, putting down the resume and taking a sip of something in a mug that had been sitting on the table.

"N-no ma'am. Nothing illegal. I am not a criminal. I told the old lady the same thing," you stuttered.

Tammy raised her eyebrow at the last part, but you kept going to breeze over it hopefully.

"I just- I got my heartbroken and got kicked out of the apartment we shared. I didn't feel like I was making anything of my life where I was and I have such big dreams, but all I found there was pain and complacency, so I came here in hope to change that."

You voice sounded small and you ringed your hands in your lap, nervous that you may have said too much. Tammy's face softened even more somehow though and she smiled at you over the edge of her mug. She stared at you for a moment, her eyes seeming to sparkle. She nodded and looked down at your resume again.

"Well, you certainly have quite an impressive track record here. You seem like a kid expert. And because I already did a background check on you, I feel comfortable saying, if you would like the job its yours."

You sat there at the table, now not trying to hide the stunned look on your face. You had a harder time getting over the fence than getting employed by this woman.

"That's it? You don't need to ask me anything else? You're giving me the job?" you ask, stumbling over your words.

Tammy laughs and it feels like butterflies flutter in your belly. You like to make her laugh, but you aren't sure if she think's you're funny or stupid.

"With my life and my job, Y/n, the thing that is most important to me is being able to trust you. With my kids, my day to day life, and if I need your help with something. Trust and honesty go a long way with me, and you proved that with one question," she said, coming over to you with a glass of water.

You took it with a smile, forcing yourself to take a slow slip.

"Well, you can definitely trust me. And I'd be honored to by your nanny," you say, excitement and nervousness flowering inside your chest.

Tammy smiles sweetly at you.

"Consider yourself part of the family Y/n. Now you do know this is a live in position right? Sarah told you that?"

You nodded, that having been one of the main reasons you wanted the job. As much as you loved Sarah, you did not love sleeping on her couch. Being a live in nanny presented its own set of challenges, but it wouldn't be forever.

"Good. Can you move in today?"

You choked on your water, coughing and spitting it all over your shirt. Tammy laughed at you, and your cheeks burned red. Now you were embarrassed and Tammy sensed that.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't mean to shock you. I just really need your help around here as soon as possible. And it would be better if you just came on in and got to know me and the kids since you're going to be a big part of our lives."

She handed you a paper towel, looking down at you with a comforting expression. Your cheeks burned red again, but not from embarrassment. You looked away and cleared your throat, unsure why you were so flustered.

"Sure. Yeah, no problem. I just need to run home and grab my clothes and things, but I don't have any furniture so-"

"Oh don't worry. You'll have the whole attic. Its renovated and fully furnished and you'll have your own bathroom. You don't need to worry about buying anything."

That was a relief. It would have taken you a while to afford those things.

You got up and walked with Tammy to the front door, her opening it for you.

"Thank you Ms. Tammy for hiring me, you will not regret it. I will take good care of your kids and make your life as easy as I possibly can," you say, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, attempting to look confident and wanting to ensure Tammy she had made the right choice.

She chuckled again, putting a little hole in that confidence, but it was quickly repaired when she wrapped her arms around you. It shocked you and you stood there, frozen for a second before hugging her back.

"I know you will. You're going to be a wonderful addition to our lives, all of our lives," she said. Her voice had a hint of something in it, making it seem like silk, but then you felt her pulling on your hair a bit and you felt like your legs may fall out from under you. Who was this woman?

Before you could assume anything further though, she pulled back and revealed she had taken a small branch with green leaves from your hair. You laughed nervously. Tammy cocked an eyebrow at you and smiled cheekily, holding it up.

"That is a funny story... I can explain that. I promise I bathe."

It was Tammy who laughed this time thankfully. She nodded and played with the branch in between her long, manicured fingers.

"That's alright. You can tell me about it tonight over drinks once you are home. I'd like to get to know you better while we get you settled."

Something about the way she said it made your breath catch in your throat. She smiled at you and you two said your goodbyes. You would text her when you were on the way back home. How strange that felt.

You sat in a much cleaner Uber on the way back to Sarah's, your head pressed against the glass. You couldn't stop thinking about Tammy and it seemed like you also couldn't wipe the smile from your face either. It seemed almost like a dream.

Just then, your phone buzzed and you were pulled from the thoughts of the woman to see that her name was on your screen. You quickly held the phone up to unlock it, suddenly overcome with the need of answering her at a moments notice. Thankfully it was not a message of her changing her mind.

Btw, just call me Tammy. Ms. Tammy is a little formal ;)

You smiled and bit your lip, quickly responding.

Okay, Tammy :)

#oceans 8 #tammy #tammy oceans 8 #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson #sarah paulson fanfic #sarah paulson fic #mini fic

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maine-writes · 3 years

Text

Vonvon's Space Adventure, Part 2

"When we heard that you needed to be sat upon, we were all so excited to offer our services." said White Diamond as she sat at her extremely large command seat.

Vonvon looked around at all the gems diligently working at their posts, operating the strange space vessel. A large screen on the front wall revealed the vast void of space, the silvery light of passing stars streaking through it like lines of bright paint. They were hoping that the Diamonds knew that they weren't supposed to literally sit on them, but was also hoping that they'd never have to explain why a certain weird Mayor of Beach City would leap at the opportunity to be "sat upon".

It wasn't long before they arrived on Homeworld, one of the perks of developing faster-than-light travel. The child marveled at the sight on the viewscreen; a glowing, alien world with two rings of satellites and crystalline fragments. Patches of green, pink, yellow, blue, and white illuminated the world. In Vonvon's eyes, the world seemed alive.

When they landed on a hovering, crystalline platform, Vonvon and White Diamond were greeted by the sight of a group of waving Quartz soldiers.

"Beginning with Era 3," White Diamond began, "All Gems were free to pursue whatever lives they desired, and we Diamonds nurtured and encouraged a sense of curiosity and self-worth in all Gems. Some chose to explore the greater universe, others were curious about the world called Earth, whilst others chose to remain on Homeworld to help it heal and grow."

As the pair approached the happy Quartz guards, Vonvon could hear a faint, but growing, yell in the distance. Zipping through the crowd, Spinel appeared.

"Vonvon!" cried the excited pink Gem as she wrapped her rubber hose arms around the small child. "It's been so long! How've you been? How's Steven? La gasp! How's Connie and Steven, about time they get some alone time together, huh?"

It was nice to see Spinel again.

"Now, now Spinel." White Diamond intervened, plucking the small Gem and seperating her from the suffocating child. "You will get your chance to catch up with Vonvon. But we must bring them to Blue and Yellow, after all, they worked so hard to make their stay as comfortable as possible."

"Right, right, right." Spinel yapped. "I'll bring them to them!"

"I'll make sure their chambers are prepared." said the Diamond.

"Will that be the nice chamber or the bad chamber?" Spinel asked.

"The newly refurbished chamber."

"Oh right, the old bad chamber. It's so nice."

Spinel led Vonvon down a yellow, crystalline road that floated over a sea of strange trees. Ahead of them was a large, yellow pyramid.

"What's with the trees?" inquired the child.

"Ever since things have started changing around here, the Gems here have been trying to fix the world." Spinel explained, "The Diamonds thought Homeworld was dead, but with the help of our favorite Peridot, we found that it was just sleeping."

"Does anything live down there?"

Spinel then grimly grabbed ahold of Vonvon's shoulders, peering into their soul with bloodshot eyes.

"Dark things lurk in among the trees, Vonnie." whispered the Gem. "It comes at night, stealing away unsuspecting Gems, leaving only dust and shards."

"Really?"

"Pfft! No!" Spinel laughed. "Kid, nothing can live down there. But we're looking into introducing wildlife from old colonies. There was one world your parents went to before you were born that we're looking at."

As they approached the giant pyramid, the outline of doors seemed to manifest in the outer wall, sliding apart to allow them inside.

"So this is where Yellow Diamond lives?" Vonvon wondered aloud.

"It's one of her estates." said Spinel. "She has a ton of them, but this was her old military command center. She's thinking of turning it into a bed-and-breakfast."

"I thought Gems don't eat." Vonvon noted.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Spinel asked.

"Nevermind."

Maybe it was best not to explain. Not yet.

The crystalline halls were frequented by a variety of Gems, each running a different errand. Vonvon noticed that most were carrying bags and picnic baskets, a strange sight on a world of sentient rocks that do not eat.

"Hey, XJ9!" Spinel called out to a passing Jasper. "Can ya tell Yellow we're here?"

The muscular soldier gave her a thumbs up before running through a crowd of exasperated Gems.

"What's up with everyone?" Vonvon asked.

"Oh, they're getting lunch ready."

"Lunch?"

Inside a former colony planning room, Yellow Diamond and an army of Gems frantically worked to prepare Vonvon's afternoon lunch and that evening's dinner. On the menu, for lunch, they had planned a simple chicken salad sandwich. However, they had no idea what a chicken, a salad, or a sandwich was.

"My Diamond!" Yellow Pearl cried, "It's the chickens!"

"I thought I sent a contingent of soldiers to capture them!" Yellow Diamond boomed, brushing the flour off her cheek.

"That's just it." The ever loyal Pearl continued to explain. "When we contacted them for an update, all we received as screaming and clucking."

Yellow Diamond sat in what was once the command seat, lowering her contemplative face behind her hands.

"So, it's war then."

Every Gem in the room stopped to turn to their Diamond, some even dropping whatever was in their hands.

"B-But my Diamond." Yellow Pearl began.

"No." Said the Diamond. "I know we promised to denounce our old ways with the beginning of Era 3. But this is for Steven's child. We. Will. Not. Fail."

"Yes, my Diamond." Yellow Pearl said, bowing with the old Diamond salute. The other Gems in the room followed suit.

"Looks like they have everything under control here." Spinel said. The pair were standing in the doorway, watching the militaristic scene of valor and dedication unfolding before them.

Then Yellow Diamond noticed them.

"Oh, hello Vonvon!" she said, waving over to them. "Lunch will be ready shortly."

She then turned her attention back to the matter at hand, ordering her Gems to prepare for war within her own pyramid. As if clockwork, the dozens of Gems split up into ordered groups, armed with whatever kitchen equipment they could get their hands on.

"Let's go check up on Blue." Spinel recommended.

They were now walking upon a blue road leading to a very blue pyramid. Vonvon thought about how easy it must be to get around, since everything was conveniently color coded.

"Blue Diamond's been researching human entertainment." explained the pink Gem. "That way, you won't be bored. I volunteered, but Blue thought it would be best that you enjoy some variety."

But as they approached the pyramid, a wave of blue color emanated from inside. When it flooded over Spinel, tears began to well up in her eyes.

"Ah, she's still at it." said the Gem, apparently unfazed by the sudden bout of crying.

"At what?"

Inside the pyramid, all was dark, save for the massive, flickering viewscreen on the upper part of a far wall. Dozens of Gems were watching the screen diligently, Blue Diamond included. On this screen was a scene from the somewhat recently released film, The Revengers 4: Finale.

The specific scene was near the end, with the death of the Armored Avenger, who sacrificed himself to save the world from the terrible Hades, the Inevitable God.

"You can rest now." Blue Diamond whispered, tears running down her face.

Vonvon noticed every Gem in the room was crying. They didn't know if this was because of Blue Diamond or not. Granted, they haven't met anyone yet who couldn't help but cry during this scene. Interestingly, their parents often argued about this scene. Connie found that the director missed the perfect opportunity to integrate a classic song about the Armored Avenger, whilst Steven thought that it would somehow ruin the mood.

Vonvon, on the other hand, had no opinion on the matter. They just found the scene moving.

"Oh, Vonvon." Blue Diamond sniffled, finally noticing the small human. "I think you'll find the entertainment we have planned most enjoyable. I certainly did."

"She's been working hard." Spinel whispered to Vonvon. "Watching cartoons and movies, listening to music, the whole deal."

"You've been listening to music?" Vonvon asked, curious as to what Blue had been listening to.

"And learning how to play instruments." The Diamond added.

"My Diamond is quite talented." Said the very quiet Blue Pearl, who suddenly appeared beside Vonvon.

"What do you play?"

The next she heard was the screeching, echoing sound of feedback as Blue Diamond plugged a gigantic electric guitar to an equally as gigantic amp, connected to a wall of massive loudspeakers.

"Oh boy." Vonvon muttered.

The shockwave that followed seemed to disrupt the very air, it shook the crystalline walls of the pyramid, and resonated through the core of Homeworld itself. It lifted Vonvon and Spinel off their feet, throwing them back against the wall. Luckily, Spinel cushioned the child, but it wasn't by choice. But through the cacophony, Vonvon noticed the notes coalescing into a familiar tune.

"Wait, this is Comet, by Mr. Universe!"

@artsycooky13

#Vonvon's Space Adventure #steven universe #steven universe au #vonvon #fanfic #Part 3 will be White Diamond's addition to Vonvon's stay #which is the strangest of them all

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sh1tbird-shantytown · 3 years

Note

Tommy doesn’t know who Queen is and Steve goes on a quest to get Tommy to listen to all different types of music. Billy gets dragged into the shenanigans. The three of them start hanging out together when Steve falls asleep, but he has a super bad nightmare. (I think they were probably drinking or smoking weed or both before. Which made the nightmare worse.) Then comes cuddling with Tommy choosing the music and light teasing.

i love this so much. they’re all musically ignorant in one way or another anyway. lemme just sprint with this now :)

---

He was just trying to get his history books, it wasn't his fault that their lockers were right next to each other. Or that Tommy was apparently living under a heavy rock.

“I’ve never heard of Queen, unless you’re talking about the Queen of England or some shit. Other than that, I’m at a loss.” Tommy was yapping to one of Carol’s friends. Sarah? Betty? They all looked the same honestly.

“What do you mean you’ve never heard of Queen?” Steve hadn’t actually really meant to just start abruptly start speaking to Tommy again, but here they were. In the hallway. Around nosey onlookers. And Sarah-Betty who was definitely staring and definitely not happy for the intrusion.

Tommy grinned boyishly, “Talkin’ to me again, Harrington?”

Steve didn’t let up, “You haven’t heard of Queen? Freddie Mercury? Brian May? They’ve been all over the radio for years, man.” Tommy died down a little with the snarky attitude, but the flare was still there through the dilution.

“I don’t know, Harrington. Guess I have too many people around to pay attention to the radio much anymore.” Tommy crossed his arms and Steve almost gave up as the bilious emotions started up towards the boy again.

Steve shook his head, “Meet me at my house tonight at 6. I’ll order in and I’ll show you myself what Queen is. ‘Kay, Tom?” Now that really took the other aback.

“It’s been, what, a year?” Hands on his hips just as Steve was doing, “All of a sudden you’re interested again?”

Steve looked him in the eye and nodded, “Six o’clock on the dot, Tommy. Be there!” he pivoted on his heel and blended in the crowd.

He had the pizza box and the stereo up and ready to jam long before the bell rung. Only three minutes late. It was honestly a record for Tommy, Steve knew for a fact that Tommy had the worst time management skills. Which also made Steve a little on edge as he opened the door. He wasn’t actually that surprised to find Billy Hargrove right there beside Tommy. Both grinning in their own devilish manners.

Steve vamped them with the most unimpressed look he could produce and traveled back inside, “Well, come on!” he ordered impatiently.

Billy spoke up first as they entered the living area, “Nice place, very...” he seemed to contemplate a moment as he examined the vacant side tables and mantle, “Modern.”

“Tell me about it,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ll go get beer,” he started making his way towards the kitchen. “Pizza’s on the coffee table, don’t make a mess.”

When he returned there wasn’t any mess on the floors or furniture, but Tommy had enough sauce on the corners of his mouth and cheeks to slather a whole slice itself.

“Oh, Tommy,” he sighed and grabbed a napkin to clean the sauce before it dried. Billy and Tommy stared like owls but Steve ignored them and instead focused on putting the first cassette in. “Now listen, no one gets to speak.” He pointed to the table, “You have free food and drinks, so indulge me,” he took his own seat on the floor between them. A Night at the Opera.

“Well this is eerie,” Tommy griminced and bit into another slice. His face lifted a moment later as the song changed gears, “Oh wait, no I change my mind, this is cool.”

“Have you found a new toy to replace me? Can you face me? But now you can kiss my ass goodbye Feel good, are you satisfied?”

Steve looked at Tommy and found him already looking back.

Billy coughed, “Next, Pretty Boy?”

“Bicycling on every Wednesday evening Thursday, I go waltzing to the zoo”

Tommy swayed with the steady smoothness, “I like this one, I like it a lot.” Billy’s thigh brushed and planted against Steve’s shoulder as they watched Tommy tap along. The touch sizzled excitingly.

“I'm in love with my car Got a feel for my automobile Get a grip on my boy-racer rollbar Such a thrill when your radials squeal“

Tommy’s face pinched just a little, nose wrinkled cutely, ”I don’t know about this one. Sounds like a song Billy might appreciate a bit more. WIth Margo and all that.”

Tommy smiled at Billy and Steve felt something churn in is tummy, “Margo?” he tilted his head back so it rested on Billy’s knee in order to look at him.

Billy sighed and tilted his own head back to take a sip of the beer can he'd been working on, “It’s my car’s name, after my dog when I was a kid.” Steve shifted back so he was facing the stereo again after nodding once.

“Oh, you're the first one when things turn out bad You know I'll never be lonely You're my only one And I love the things I really love the things that you do“

Tommy immediately smiled at the opening and his foot made its way from nudging him happily to resting in Steve’s lap, “This one is my favorite.”

“Really?” Steve and Billy asked simultaneously. Steve turned his head painfully fast and they stared in mutual shock. They were quick to get over it though and both went back to waiting for Tommy’s decisive nod. His eyes were closed and calm in enjoyment. So, Steve forcefully settled whatever Billy had stirred and did the same, back rested against both boy’s shins comfortably.

“My sweet lady Though it seems like we wait forever Stay sweet, baby Believe and we've got everything we need“

“That one was...interesting,” Tommy commented.

Billy snorted as Steve smiled, “I’d say.”

“I feel like dancing in the rain Can I have a volunteer? Just keep right on dancing What a damn jolly good idea“

Tommy smiled sweetly through the that one, Steve felt as though he didn’t need to ask why.

“I dreamed I saw on a moonlit stair Spreading his hands on the multitude there A man who cried for a love gone stale And ice cold hearts of charity bare“

“How come they are so short and so long at random? It’s weird,” Tommy leaned forward and grabbed another beer, condensation dripping onto Steve’s bare knee.

“Sometimes things are more difficult to interpret,” Billy answered. Steve leaned a little more into them as he felt his hips settle.

“Oh, back, hurry back Please bring it back home to me Because you don't know what it means to me Love of my life“

“That was kinda sad,” Billy was the one to say something between the track then.

Steve agreed, “Yeah, a little.” He felt eyes on his head but gazed instead on the slight glow to the stereo.

“Take good care of what you've got My father said to me As he puffed his pipe and baby B. He dandled on his knee Don't fool with fools who'll turn away Keep all good company“

Steve felt a leg press firmer into his shoulder and he laid his head on it, above him Billy sighed just above being silent, “How was that one, Tom?”

Tommy didn’t answer for a moment, “I’m not sure. It sounded good.” The feet in Steve’s lap crossed themselves jitteringly.

“Open your eyes, Look up to the skies and see, I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy, Because I'm easy come, easy go, Little high, little low“

“That one was freaky,” Tommy sat forward in awe, “But it was also awesome.” Eventually the last cord divvied out, all of them lazy with alcohol and sleepy with muddled calm that none of them had felt in a while. Although, Steve already was sleep on Billy’s knee. He didn’t get the chance to regret the beer he’d consumed before he was overrun with horrific, viney tunnels and humongous monsters. Screams of people he knew and cared for. Dustin, Nancy, his parents, Johnathon, El, Lucas. But what had him waking up in a bolt, yelping and screaming, was the one’s from Billy and Tommy. The pain those ones harbored, the ones that made Steve tremble too much to bare.

Heavy hands grasped his shoulders and softer ones held his face when he came to. He closed his mouth and the wailing stopped just as it had reached his ears.

“Steve! Steve- sh, it’s alright, Stevie,” Tommy’s voice filtered in subtly and he thought he heard a breeze from behind.

“We should get him to bed,” Billy said and the warmth from behind Steve was suddenly gone. He didn’t know what he must of done, was too out of it, but suddenly he was in someone's arms and being coddled.

“It’s okay, Pretty Boy, we’re still here.”

And then they were in a bed, and his room by the looks of the plaid and blue walls. He had two bodies on either side, and while the comfort he felt was something he couldn’t recognize. It was something new and he felt he should feel overwhelmed by all the sudden figures beside him. But instead he felt relieved and willingly open to allow these two boys in with limited hesitation. What a change in events. Truly.

“Talk to us, Stevie,” Tommy whispered in his ear.

“Have you heard of Blondie?” he whispered a bit hoarsely.

“No. Unless that’s Billy.”

“Add that to the list of things Tommy needs to learn about.” He got a slight tickle above his ribs in response from Billy. Steve held in his laugh as best he could but Billy didn’t stop the movement until he finally coughed out a yelp in protest. He tried his best to portray a steady glare in return but it didn’t quite work. “What about The Smiths?”

“Nadda.”

“Tears for Fears?”

“Mmm,” Tommy finally came into clear vision for Steve to see, even in the dark, “Maybe, maybe not.” He was grinning like the dumbass Steve knew he was. And then he was gone.

“Wah-?” he almost whined. Almost.

“Don’t worry, Stevie,” there was a clicking sound, “I’m just trying to culture you up a bit. Gotta keep you calm so we can actually get so sleep.” He laughed loudly when he seemingly found something. Tree branch arms coiled around Steve’s waist and he couldn’t be bothered to tell Billy off as the warmth radiated into his skin and heart.

Tommy came back while the Eurythmics, of all people, made some sort of soft noise through the room. And Tommy’s own hands somehow managed to sneak their way past Billy’s and just barely grazed his ass. The blanket bundled them all together and Steve felt as though he finally had the loves of his life in sight. That definite path made for him. Finally and just maybe.

send me headcannons!<3

#stranger things #asks #kegboys #steve harrington #billy hargrove #tommy h #tommy hagan #this sucks #but i’m tired so that’s like a partial excuse #thank you for the ask!#sorry it’s not the best

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wevegottogetaway · 3 years

Text

Whirlwind Part I - Mistral

DAY 0

Time seems to slow down but the speedometer on Aella's Triumph says otherwise. As the needle flirts with the 124mph mark, it's hard to tell wether she's the one chasing after the wind or the other way around. Miles after miles, her beloved motorbike swallows up the empty road offering itself before her, almost begging her to throw speed limits cautions to the wind. Speed has no secret for Aella though. Brown eyes steady on the asphalt, her focus is unswerving. Yet, she's never felt more free and insouciant.

Except maybe when she's flying.

In the tight confine of her Tomcat, as she defies other kinds of laws, Aella seeps in a whole new world. One where she makes her own physics, her own rules. One where the sky in no longer a limit and neither is her gender. Because when she occupies the cockpit of the F-14 - a baby only a handful of aviators are lucky to even sit in - she's just that: an aviator. A squadron unit who receives missions and completes them. Once her feet tread the tarmac though, the reality is quickly sobering. That's why Aella has learnt to savor each one of the limited hours she spends in the in-between realm of the stratosphere.

Tilting her head briefly to look at the clear sky above her, Aella lets a smile grace her lips as she realizes she'll be back up there very soon. And in high amounts at that. A few years ago, she could have only dreamt to be recruited as part of the most elitist of naval aviation programs in the world. But after years of working twice as hard as her fellow Navy fighter pilots and putting up with their never-ending bullying, her resilience has finally paid off. The memory of their crest-fallen faces when their Commander announced her promotion in front of them all is still one of her favorite. And on that note, they can respectfully kiss her ass.

Maybe it was fate, or maybe it was just life. But no matter how serendipitous the death of Navy fighter Jonathan Evans, she'll be the one taking his place in the US Navy's Fighter Weapons School's Top Gun program. It was a regrettable news but one that changed Aella's destiny forever.

San Diego's sun is just as blazing as LA's, but the nice breeze the city benefits from neighboring the ocean makes it easier to breath. The streets are void of the usual hustle and bustle that inhabits the city of angels, but the palm-trees-lined streets seem to remain a consistent feature of the Californian landscape.

After driving in two hours what should have been a three hours ride, Aella finally pulls up in front of a single-story condominium situated on the street that runs alongside the shore. Taking in the magical scenery that surrounds her new place, she finds herself standing front row for the sun's crepuscular show.

Aella has always loved sunsets. She fell in love with their ephemeral hues when she was 7 and already wanted to make the sky hers. At 25 years of age, they now serve as a reminder that regardless of the fact she knows it like the back of her hand, the blue immensity still withholds secrets that are meant to remain forever's mysteries.

Aella finally makes her way to her new home and her eyes immediately fall on the three large boxes that she had sent from LA the week prior, as per US Navy's request. Waiting for her on the floor, they seem quite a bit lonely in the otherwise empty room. The place is small but designed well enough to be comfortable. The L-shape kitchen directly on the right upon entrance shares one main open space with the living room and dining room, though the term "room" is to be taken loosely. Mostly, they consist of a dining table placed in the center, and a sofa facing a TV set at the back. Between the two, french doors lead the way to a small garden; just enough space for a sun lounger and a small outdoor table.

Aella doesn't expect to be around much as most of her days will be spent at the training center, but as she starts unpacking, she can already picture herself living there anyway. Early runs on the beach, morning coffees out with the birds chirping the news of the day and some lazy reading on the lounger when she's lucky to have a day off. That night, as she lays on her bed waiting to be taken in Morpheus' arms, Aella relishes in the jitters of happiness that course through her veins.

She can't remember the last time she was so impatient for tomorrows.

DAY 1

To say the San Diego Fighter Weapons School's campus is huge would be an understatement. Aella has been on plenty bases during her short naval aviator career, but they all pale in comparison with the three massive hangars standing ahead of her. Deeply rooted on these holy grounds, they serve as home for no less than 30 of the most powerful aircrafts ever designed in the world. Perched on her Triumph, Aella can't help but slow to a more moderate speed as she drives past them. She can feel her heart bouncing in joy at the sight of the F-14 Tomcats, F/A-18 Hornets and F-16 Fighting Falcons neatly aligned like pawns on a chessboard ready to be pressed into service.

Finally, the main buildings come into view. They house all the administration offices as well as lecture and conference rooms. Indeed, part of the Top Gun program takes place indoors (that is, not in a cockpit) as trainees are taught advanced combat strategy, theories of air-to-air and air-to-ground missions, and most painful of all, the riveting matters of astrophysics. In addition to their scientific knowledge and flying skills, the recruits will also be tested on their physical fitness.

That's what Aella dreads the most. While she could probably recite all of Newton's laws in her sleep and fly a supersonic twin-engine, variable-sweep wing fighter aircraft with an arm in a cast, she's positive the physical examination is what might give her the most trouble. Not that she's in bad shape. Obviously one has to be quite fit to be able to handle 25 tons of titanium rocketed at more than 1500mph. But alas, the minimum requirements generated by the State for the final physical examination have yet to be adapted to female dispositions.

The military field has definitely still plenty of room left for improvement when it comes to women's interests...

Two men in their service uniforms are casually conversing in the parking lot when Aella pulls up with her Triumph. One seems to be in the middle of a thrilling story judging by his gesticulating limbs, while the other listens to him, cigarette pinched between his lips. As soon as the latter's eyes fall on Aella though, he interrupts his friend with two taps on his torso. The shock on his face quickly turns into a condescending smirk as his eyes shamefully scan Aella from head to toe. His friend turns around intrigued and it's not long before his features mirror the same irksome smug.

For a few seconds too many, Aella doesn't react. She simply stares at the jerks standing a few feet from her like they might be two very realistic-looking hallucinations. A sick jock her brain is playing on her by materializing ghosts from her past when she's least expecting them. Aella doesn't know who she's the most angry at: Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum for looking at her like she's a hot commodity or herself because she'd actually thought it wouldn't happen here.

It takes all of her self-control and then some to keep her from rushing over and giving them a piece of her mind. Instead she just swallows back the crude remarks she's dying to throw at them and puts her uniform cap on. Maybe there weren't checking her out but the Triumph behind her instead. Maybe she just bumped into the two assholes of the program. Maybe the 13 other recruits will turn out to be actual decent human beings who acknowledge women's worth in the Navy and will treat her as an equal. Aella tries to keep the positive thoughts coming as she heads towards the main building for the induction speech.

Still, she can't help the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The effervescence of the conference room is almost palpable as loud chatter and boisterous laughters bounce off its walls. Taking in the glorious sight of her fellow trainees, Aella already feels like an outsider. Easily distinguished by their uniform, they're all bantering like they've all known each other their entire life, even though the program hasn't officially started.

From afar she recognizes the two morons from the parking lot, sitting on tables as they're gathered around a balky blond man completely sprawled out on a chair with aviator sunglasses tucked in the front of his kaki shirt. Because of his lazy posture, he has to look up at his disciples but it is clear that he's the last person to be looked down on.

Aella already despises the narcissistic vibe he exudes. That disdainful and self-assured attitude which makes her want to rip his stupid head off. It's certainly not the first of his kind she's had to partially work with and sadly, it will definitely not be the last.

"Oi, Rex! How's it goin' man?" Another block yaps.

"Snyder," Rex chuckled. "'Was doin' good till ya ugly face showed up"

"Ah, 's not what the ladies say..." Snyder replies, completely unfazed by the playful dig made at him.

"That's cause you woo them drunk, you bastard." The whole group of them burst in laughters as Snyder rolls his eyes.

"Speaking of lass, I heard there was a bird joining the ranks with us? 'S up with that?"

Aella immediately stiffens as she hears the dreaded words. Ones that make it crystal clear she's gonna be the odd one out right from the start. Not to be mistaken, Aella takes great pride in being one of the very few female fighter pilots of the US Navy but all the self-confidence in the world couldn't amount to the loneliness she always feels on base. Amongst the 'mates', she's never more than a fellow recruit, watching from afar her colleagues' relationships blossoming from mere work affiliations to ones of brotherhood.

Finally making her way to the last seat available in the audience, Aella feels the energies in the room drastically shift. Voices are no longer clashing in rowdiness; instead, the air is charged by the intensity of the quiet stares following her silhouette. However, the silence is interrupted by the sound of a flirtatious whistle that does no wonder for her already-tested nerves. God does she hate men sometimes.

"Well, well, well...look at that guys. I think the eagle has landed its cute ass down."

Aella is about to pop a knuckle from how hard she's clenching her fists. How foolishly naive she was to believe that things would be different. That joining Top Gun with the 'best of the best' would give her solace from the incessant chauvinistic behaviors she'd been so used to. If anything, the prestige of their accomplishments has exacerbated the arrogant disposition of their ego-inflated character.

Aella knows better than to respond though. No matter how quick-witted the comeback, it never works in her favor. So once again, she just takes a deeper breath and settles in her seat facing forwards. She is saved from hearing more about her eagle ass by two impressive figures marching in the room towards the front. Postures straighten, smirks vanish and a de facto silence ensues at the officers' arrival. Respect is almost tangible in the air, and it has little to nothing to do with the plethora of decorations adorning their white uniforms, and everything to do with the aura of invincibility transpiring in their intimidating gaze.

"Gentlemen," one of them starts before tilting his head towards Aella and adding a soft "ladies." He then proceeds with a quick scan of the room. Years of experience standing on that very same stage have forged the unyielding yet somewhat benevolent eyes landed on the students' expecting faces.

"You were probably told that you were here because you are the best of the best. Well, let me set things straight: you're not. Not yet anyway. You might be lieutenants out there, but on these grounds, you are nothing but students. My job, is to make you unbeatable up there. Your job, is to trust me in doing so. That means no challenging orders and no cocky attitude or any funny business. If you respect that, you might have your name on one of these plaques in 5 weeks. Until then, work your hardest. My name is Aaron Berks and I will be your Commander. Everyone, welcome to Top Gun."

Commander Berks offers a light smile to his audience, and Aella has a feeling it's not a sight she will be privy to very often. She likes him though. He seems intransigeant but wise, proud but not arrogant and no matter how cold his exterior, he has the warmth of a master who looks after his apprentice. A caring facet that resembles that of fatherhood, and Aella knows she'll be able to trust Berks just like he asked in his introduction speech.

After a brief silence, the class' attention is once again captured by one of the officer. Taller and bulkier, this one is definitely missing that fatherly vibe Aella is so found of. "Gentlemen, I am Lieutenant Commander Wayne Rogers, I will teach you the art of naval strategy in flight combat alongside Commander Berks. You will also have the pleasure to have me whip your asses in physical testing. As you know, Top Gun is structured around 3 ranges of expertise, namely: naval strategy both in theory and practice, advanced astrophysics knowledge and physical training. Needless to say, you will be tested in more ways than one. And just a heads-up, I don't do no favor. To anyone."

Aella cringes for a second as she wonders if there is any implicit lines to read behind Lieutenant Rogers' clipped tone. She already dreads the time she will have to spend under his teaching. She doesn't have the time to dwell on it though, before Rogers resumes his speech. "Anyway, enough with the pretty words, let's go over the program. As you know, the 16 of you will form 8 crews who will be confronting each other and us instructors to master advanced dogfighting tactics. Each of the 25 missions you will be assigned during the program will earn you points. Your aptitudes in physical training will also earn you point, as well as your results in astrophysics evaluations. I'm sure you can guess who wins the Top Gun trophy at the end of the program. Bear in mind, that all instructors have the right to deduct points from your score should they deem your actions or behavior disrespectful, underserving or quite simply unacceptable. On that note, welcome to Top Gun, class dismissed."

As soon as Lieutenant Rogers voices the discharging words, the room is once again caught in a rambunctious nebula of clacks and clatters. Everyone is making their way out when the commander's voice transcends the ongoing commotion; steady and resonant.

"Officers Styles and Lonethorne."

Aella's brows immediately wrinkle as she recognizes her last name. Turning around, she sees Commander Berks intently looking at her as if beckoning her over. Obediently she makes her way up to the front of the room where Berks hasn't moved an inch since the beginning of the induction. Soon she realizes she's being followed by a tall lanky man. His face, objectively handsome, doesn't seem to show any emotion but Aella doesn't have much time to further study his features as she finally reaches her commander.

"I wanted to welcome you both personally given the circumstances. Styles, you have my support and condolences. Lieutenant Evans was a very fine man and gifted flyer." Aella is a bit thrown off by the declaration. It takes her an extra second to figure out the reason of her presence for this discussion. Once she does, her attention is immediately drawn to the silent man standing next to her, his face still not displaying any feelings, as though his skin was made of cold marble.

"Harry, this is Aella Lonethorne. Her former chief has nothing but praises to say about her flying skills. She will be your partner for the next 5 weeks." A nod and the brief connection of his emeralds to Aella's sapphires seems to be all the assertion elicited from Harry. No handshake, no hello, not even the pucker of a brow. Commander Berks might as well have announced the refectory's lunch menu, the lad's reaction would have been the same.

"Miss Lonethorne, it's a pleasure to have you on base, I have no doubts you two will achieve great things together." It is such a relief for Aella to realize her first impression of Berks was spot on. He is the kind of manager that leads with strength in his fists but encouraging lyrics on the edge of his lips. There is no hint of condescension fueled by the power high of his status, coloring the tone of his voice. It's something Aella has seen a few times. Pleasant comrades turned into aloof leaders full of bitterness from their years of submission and laden by the hierarchy's expectations. Commander Berks never yielded to that pressure though, it was clear in his wholesome nature.

"Thank you Commander, it's a real honor." Aella responds in genuineness.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it. See you both on the tarmac" he exclaims with a smile before making his way out. Berks departure leaves enough room for tension to settle between the newfound partners like a third interlocutor taking the warmed place of their superior.

Harry is still keeping mum, unfocused eyes staring somewhere far off on the floor while his mind appeared to be wandering the secret passages of never-never land. It freaks the hell out of Aella though she doesn't show it. They are a team now. They're supposed to trust, rely on each other and have the other's back no matter what. Yet, she doesn't even know the sound of his voice and it doesn't seem like he's gonna give her the time of day anytime soon.

Aella is about to speak up when Harry suddenly shakes his head out of its hypnotic trance. For a second she thinks he's gonna initiate conversation himself but instead he just tilts his head in her general direction and rasps a weak 'see you' before storming off the room. Aella is left in total disarray, she doesn't comprehend why he's acting like a 3 year-old running off because he's scared to say hi to the postman. Is it because she's not what he expected in a partner? God she hopes not. He doesn't strike her as a misogynistic prick, didn't really show any sign of disgust or clear animosity. But then again he was impossible to read.

After exiting the teaching building and mounting her precious Triumph, Aella feels the dread resurfacing. It is such a big contrast to how she felt when she left this morning. All the thrill and elation that had bubbled in the pits of her stomach just evaporated into disillusion, leaving a fog of uncertainty in Aella's frenzied mind. This was supposed to be a drama-free experience; a chance to be recognized and treated with respect.

Instead she got barely acknowledged.

The music coming out of Godspeed's is so resoundingly loud Aella can feel the bass line thumping through her whole body. Standing across the street from the entrance, she's still hesitating joining in the merrymaking even though she can hear the spirits calling out her name. Despite the crispiness of the air, a few rowdy souls are camping out front, obviously warmed over by the substance in their glass and the nicotine stick between their lips.

The dodgy pub never lacks in visitors no matter how threadbare the furniture, tacky the decoration and questionable the sanitation prove to be. Truth be told, the popularity of the place can be explain by one and sole reason: it is, lo and behold, the only bar on base. A fact that implies 99% of its customer base works in the US Navy, and thus explains why one could usually count on one hand the number of people dressed in day-to-day clothes.

Bracing herself, Aella finally makes her way inside the bar. The smell of booze and fries immediately invades her nostrils but she pays it no mind. Instead she takes in her surroundings from the swaying of hips on the torrid dance floor to tokens passionately thrown at a table with a pair of aces following. The sound of glasses clinking blends with that of drunken laughters and even drunker squawks. It's nothing but good times and pent-up stress release, and for a moment Aella is really glad she decided to show up. She was told Induction's Rave was not to be skipped.

Unfortunately, as she heads for the bar, Aella's eyes fall upon a few familiar yet loathsome faces. It appears the infamous Rex and his phony clique didn't want to miss out on the festivities either. Much to Aella's dismay, they are all huddled around the counter monopolizing the bartender's attention and just like that, she knows a relaxing time is not in her cards for tonight. There is no way she can walk out of this with both a drink in her hand and her composure intact. It would be too easy.

Strategically, she waits till the barman is done with them before voicing her request as inconspicuously as she can. "May I have a Vodka Martini, please?" she asks just as the bartender lifts his eyes from the counter he was wiping. She originally went for a pint but somehow she had an inkling it wouldn't quite suffice. The guy nods and leaves to mix her precious elixir but just as she thinks she might make it through unscathed, the obnoxious voice she has come to strongly despise cuts through the pub's damp air.

"Gotta stop trying to play James Bond, darling. S'just not for you." Snickers. "Now, James Bond girl on the other hand, you definitely have the proper assets for that." Once again, every guy within Rex's arm radius bursts into insipid laughter as the mockery tumbled out of his mouth. She doesn't have to look his way to picture the disgusting smirk he must be sporting. Jerk.

From the corner of her eye, Aella recognizes the lonesome lad sat at the far end of the bar, nursing a Bourbon with tinted cheeks and glossy irises. There is no doubt he's in a slightly inebriated state but his participative chuckle still stings. Maybe even more so than Rex's offensive words for Harry is supposed to be her closest ally. She doesn't expect him to jump to her defense, wouldn't want him to anyway, but she's profoundly disappointed he would find such humor in someone degrading her that way. The thought angers her so much, she doesn't realize Harry is actually showing some kind of emotion at last. It's not the one she wanted anyhow; not when it's at her expense.

She's handed her drink before Rex speaks up again. "You think you can just sweep in and fight the bad guys with your pretty hair and 5 pounds muscles? I mean, come on darling, you're not meant for the job." She'd started to walk away at first but Rex's lousy rant makes her halt in a sudden. "Just sit and look pretty like the others. Or fucking teach. You know what they say, right? Those who can't, teach... Anything but the fucking Navy, yeah? We have enough wannabes as it is."

Deep breath. Tight fist. Down the Vodka. Then she turns around and marches up to him, armed with daggers in her eyes and a punch away from feeling better. She doesn't hit him though. Has more dignity and self-control than that. "You should really consider shutting your goddamn mouth before I show you just what I can or can't do." Aella's tone is cold; colder than the marble of Harry's face from earlier that day.

As she expects, they don't take her seriously and giggles erupt all around her. "Darling, I really wouldn't mind," is what he replies with a suggestive lip bite and a smug that rivals her scowl in intensity. He's dangerously toying with her last nerve and he knows it. Deliberately exploits it in the hopes of seeing her explode and then crumble into pieces. That's how Aella knows she has the upper hand. She knows how guys like him work, what gets them going and their tactics to achieve that, but Rex has no clue what she's like. He's deluding himself into thinking he's pushing her break-down button when in reality he's in for something else.

Nobody knows that yet, except maybe Harry.

As a quiet and incredibly guarded individual, Harry proves to be a tremendous observer. It might come off as standoffish though he doesn't mean to, but those who matter know and have accepted just how introverted his nature is. He knows he probably should have made an effort and better impression on his new copilot but the wound from his best friend's loss is still too fresh to be bothered. They'll get to talk soon enough anyway, is what he thought. Plus she didn't really go out of her way to make an impression herself, did she?

Now though, observing the sour interaction from afar, Harry's starting to think differently. He shrugged at Rex's crude remarks, already used to the block's insolence and admittedly amused at the childish antics. But as he becomes more attentive to Aella's shifting stance, it is obvious to him that she's not a person to ever take shit from anybody.

His suspicions are proved right when Aella slowly closes the few steps between her and Rex until her eyes level with his. "Oh Rex. The thing with guys like you, is you feel powerful because power was handed to you on a silver fucking platter." All the while talking, she moves to remove his hold from his glass. "I could have pity for you, really. You think you're good; you must even think you're the best but you're nothing more than a selfish privileged opportunistic prick who feels entitled to walk over anyone who won't fucking bow down before you." Then she chucks the rest of his Whiskey in one swallow and places the empty glass back on top of the counter next to them.

"Oh yeah?" Rex smirks as he watches her face closely, casually leaning on the bar. It works in her favor as he fails to notice her hand creeping around his own. Then the next thing he knows is a tremendous throb shooting from the joint between his thumb and index, all the way through his arm and up to his neck. The pain is seizing and has him doubled up like it is suddenly to painful to even stand straight.

Aella has never been more glad to learn a thing or two about pressure points.

"Yeah. And I might be smaller than you or less of a weightlifter than you are, but I can still bring you down wherever and whenever I want to. Don't you forget that." He's almost kneeling by now, arm twisted in a weird angle from where she's still applying pressure on his hand. Rex's acolytes seem to have lost their voice and giggles as they're all taking in the sudden reversal of the situation. They have probably never seen Rex in such a submissive position, hence the dazed expression of stupor plastered on their faces.

Aella finally releases the whimpering man at her feet. She's about to make her way out but she stops herself. "Oh and one more thing. You're cocky, and vile, and despicable. And one day, probably too late, you'll realize your arrogance is what will fail you."

Satisfied with her last words, Aella looks up at the scene around her. Most people are still engrossed in what they were doing when she first came in, oblivious to the whole confrontation. Then just as she turns around, her eyes catch Harry's broad frame, as though some magnetic field was coaxing them to his radiating force. She doesn't delay her departure though. Her steps barely falter on the way out but her mind is left in a whirlwind of thoughts.

He was smiling. Shy and in the corner of his lips. But genuine and almost knowing, like he'd been rooting for her the whole time. And really, for Harry to be on her side is everything Aella hopes for.

#harry styles writing #Harry Styles #harry styles fic #harry styles series #TopGun!Harry #ofc #Whirlwind #part1 #creative writing #fanfic #pilot!harry #enemies to lovers

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mypersonmyg · 4 years

Note

Reader keeping secrets from ________ Reader leading a double life a an underground artist and ________ has no idea but is a fan? Sorry that’s all I can come up with on short notice lol Hope you have fun writing whatever you work on! 😀

Pairing: Taehyung x tagger!reader

WC: 1.7k

Genre: artist au

Rating: pg

Warnings: None.

A/N: I may do a part 2 if you want. Idk, I’m just tired.

“Did you see?” You glance up from your laptop as Taehyung walks through the front door, eyes glued to his phone. When you don’t respond he looks up expectantly and you shrug your shoulders with a tilt of the head. “Purple Panda tagged last night and it’s all over my feed.”

“Oh, cool.” You glance back down at your laptop, never interested in having lengthy conversations with your boyfriend about his favorite local artist and their hidden identity. “I’m kinda feeling pizza tonight, are you in?”

“Did you hear what I said?” He takes a seat on the arm of the couch and presses a kiss against the crown of your head. You hum continuing to type against your keyboard without pretense.

“Yeah, artist, tag, social feed. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with this person,” You lower your screen and angle yourself toward him. “Sure they’re amazing at what they do, but what they do is also pretty illegal.”

Taehyung pulls his lip into a contemplative pout, his hands coming to massage your shoulders, the feeling relieving the tension that had taken over your muscles. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, the sound of Yeontan’s feet patter occasionally across the floor.

“Why don’t you like them?” You’re caught off guard by the sudden question, never having said anything about your personal feelings.

“What do you mean? I never said that.”

“True, but you’re always telling me that I shouldn’t invest so much time in this and you can’t help but to constantly point out the lack of legality in their work.” You huff, pushing yourself from the confines of the couch cushions and onto your feet. Taehyung is hot on your trail as you head to the kitchen, grabbing your keys from the counter.

“I don’t hate them, I just don’t think you should invest so much time in trying to discover a person who doesn’t want to be discovered. They have a pseudonym for a reason and that reason is not for you to try to expose their true identity.” It had become a sort of hobby for Taehyung to try and crack the code of Purple Panda. He enjoyed their art so much that he figured finding them would be next best to actually creating the pieces himself.

He followed every lead that filled his social feeds and he even roped Namjoon and Jimin into the whole ordeal. You on the other hand were content with knowing nothing of this person aside from what they paint on buildings. You’ve tried and failed to get Taehyung to let go of this idea that he could find the elusive artist, but he just poked fun at you for being jealous or asked questions like this one.

“I’m going to go and grab us some pizza, why don’t you watch a movie or something, hmm?” You pat Taehyung’s arm and peck his cheek, your purse being thrown over one shoulder.

“Yeah, sure.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets and watches you walk out of the house, the door clicking shut behind you. He walks to the front, pacing back and forth near the window to allow himself to watch you pull out of the drive. When he’s sure that you won’t be pulling back in he makes a beeline to the hall closet, Yeontan hot on his trail. “I think I know why she hates Purple Panda so much, Tannie.”

The dog yaps, jumping around Taehyung as he bends to the ground pulling at a box that’s stuffed deep in the junk filled closet. Yeontan nips at his pant legs, like he’s trying to stop Taehyung from completing his task, but Taehyung simply scoops the dog up and cuddles him to his chest. He manages to wrestle the box out with his one free hand and he places Yeontan back into the hall where the dog trots away indignantly.

Taehyung had grown increasingly suspicious of your behavior in the past few weeks and had taken to keeping a close eye on you. His first avenue was to assume the worst, the odd hours in which you’d claim to have errands or plans with friends not making the choice difficult. It was Namjoon’s comforting voice of reason that had talked him down from that ledge and since then he’s been grasping at anything to connect your behavior.

The latest in his growing suspicions is the way in which you disregard his excitement for his most recent favorite artist. Purple Panda is a tagger, an expert in Taehyung’s opinion, and has been running throughout the city making their mark for the better part of a year now. The first time he’d come to you with full cheeks and his phone resting in his palm you’d been just as excited as him. The new artist becoming a popular topic of discussion between the two of you.

That had all changed after the first month, when Taehyung had decided that he wanted to meet this infamous tagger no matter what it took. It was a usual night, the two of you cuddled up in bed when he’d shared his plans with you. The way you had stiffened beneath him should’ve been his first clue that something was wrong, but he’d thought nothing of it, the chill that often filled the room a logical enough explanation.

Now, he had taken notice of your hasty subject changes and how you avoided fully answering any questions he had pertaining to the Purple Panda. In fact, it seemed that the more he dug in the more annoyed you got with him. You weren’t snapping, but there was definitely a slight edge to your voice when you would issue him a response.

Taehyung had again expressed his beliefs with Namjoon who told him that the best way to find out the truth would be for him to confront you directly. That was when Jimin had opted to butt into the conversation and tell Taehyung that was the worst idea.

“She’s not just gonna come and tell you flat out. You have to be smarter than her, do a little sleuthing and wait until you have proof.” This idea sounded much more appealing to Taehyung, perhaps because it allowed him to put his detective skills to the test though he would never admit the underlying excitement. So he’d taken to paying extra close attention to you when you left and when you came home. The way you reacted to different questions and conversations.

When he’d spoken to you today he noted a twitch in your nose, a tell-tale sign that you were keeping something from him. Over the past weeks he had picked up on your routine. You would come into the house and sometimes immediately open the closet door before coming to greet him and oftentimes open it again before you left. One of these times he stepped into the closet and looked for any sign that you’d disrupted one of the multitudes of storage boxes piled into the tiny space.

He’d spotted a box slightly protruding from the back and pulled it out immediately to find that there was nothing inside save for an old dirty rag. He figured that whatever you were taking whenever you left the house must be kept in that box. If he was as good a detective as he liked to believe he guessed that the box would be filled with spray paint. He intended to sneak out of bed tonight to see if his assumptions were true, but your sudden decision to leave the house gave him a window of opportunity. So here he sits, the box before him, filled with what he hopes is the answer to his mystery. The box is much heavier than the first time he’d come across it which he found a good sign.

“Here goes,” He says to no one in particular, his hand coming to lift the cardboard flap that hid the contents from view. His eyes had involuntarily, his nerves getting the best of him. If what he finds isn’t what he’s expecting he isn’t sure what it could be or how he’ll react.

He takes a deep breath and peers into the box.

“Gotcha,” He smiles from ear to ear, half used spray paint cans stuffed into a worn duffle greeting him. He lifts one of the cans, a purple one adorning the name of your chosen pseudonym and he smiles at his excellent deductive reasoning.

When the shock and triumph wears off he begins to wonder why you would hide something from him. But more importantly how you got into tagging in the first place. You’d told him plenty of times that there were many dangers that came from this form of expression and he can’t imagine a reason why you would put yourself in danger of getting caught.

He slumps against the wall, tossing a can back and forth between his hands while he thinks. His head snaps toward the front door when he hears you struggling on the other side, the ruffling of your purse and the mumbled obscenities almost bringing a smile to his face. He glances between the door and the paint, contemplating his next move.

Confront or let it go?

He wants nothing more than to confront you, make you tell him why you’d kept it a secret from him, but he’s also certain that there had to be a logical reason and he doesn’t want to pressure you. Just as you’re sliding your key into the door he makes the decision to stuff the paint back into the box and the box back into the closet.

“Hey, the line was so short today. Lucky us!” You hold the pizza you’d purchased out and he takes the box with a smile. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing, just trying to find out more about Purple Panda.” He watches you visibly flinch, covering it with a smile as you lead him to the kitchen. “I was kind of thinking you’re right though.”

“Yeah? About what?”

“If they want to be discovered then they’ll do it in their own time.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” You send him a smile and slide the pizza onto the table. Taehyung slides into his chair and grabs your hand placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

“And I will wait forever if that’s what it takes.”

#bangtanhq #bangtanidx #ficswithluv #mikrogalaxynet #bangtanarmynet #taehyung x reader #bts drabble #blue1928

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yulmoldauer · 4 years

Text

its better not to say such things out loud (Tyson Jost/OC): Chapter One

part 2

Story summary: Mason Wright was recently traded and because an Av. Sometimes a fresh start with a new team across the country is what a guy needs, right? It seems to work out, going to a place where no one truly knows you. That is, until someone finds out what you’re desperately trying to hide.

Chapter 1

Summary: Mason’s had a rough game, to put it simply. It was never the best idea to get into a fight with someone bigger than you. They won even with him taking a five-minute major for fighting halfway through the third period. The team goes out to celebrate his 23rd birthday post-win and Tyson takes care of getting him home and to sleep safely.

Warnings: None, I believe! Just some drinking mentioned and there’s a drunk character if that makes you uncomfortable. There’s also a slur against lgbt people used.

Words: 1,968

Notes: The title is from The Stigma (Boys Don’t Cry) by As It Is. This is the thing with the LGBT main character that I’ve had a few different people tell me they’d be interested in :) I’m having a lot of fun writing and plotting this so far, so let me know if you enjoy!

There were perks to being smaller than most other people in the league. Being an extremely fast and skilled defenseman was one of them.

Being outmatched in every possible articulation, being compared to a chihuahua yapping at a pitbull, everything like that. Which is how he ended up in the penalty box for five fucking minutes, the asshole in the box next to him chirping him the entire time, it seemed like.

“What are you, a fag?”

That was what Mason heard fly by him, aimed at Jost who wouldn’t get into a fight to draw a penalty. Mason knew for a fact that’s what the guy was trying to do. He still took the bait when Tyson didn’t.

Mason was smaller than nearly every player he knew. Watching him get into a fight was exciting yet painful at the same time for anyone with a brain. The other guy was at least six-foot compared to the five-foot-eight Mason. To say it was outmatched…

Mason was going to be lucky if he didn’t come out of this with some scrapes and bruises. A broken nose was pretty likely as well, once he thought about it.

But hearing that word ignited something in him that overtook the reasoning section of his brain and both of them were dropping gloves. Sure, he’d definitely have a black eye tomorrow, but he’d gotten a few good licks in as well.

They still won the game, which was nice.

“Dude, you gotta at least get into it with guys in your weight class.”

“You’re funny, Landeskog. Whole fucking league is out of my weight class,” Mason huffed as he stripped his padding off of his lean torso.

“Yeah, kinda the point,” Zadorov shrugged. “Not your fault you’re smaller, just the way it is.”

“I get it, I’m short,” he ran a hand through his wavy helmet hair and reached down to unlace his skates. “Z, you can fight for me, then. I’ll run my mouth and you can do all the hitting.”

“With you? Don’t take it, man, Wright can go on and on for hours,” Tyson chirped from across the room. That earned him a glove chucked at his face.

“Fuck y’all. I don’t even have a good comeback.”

“Because it’s true!”

Okay, maybe it was true. Mason was just a talker, it’s how it was.

Tyson gave him endless shit about it, but really he didn’t mind. He actually enjoyed just being able to turn his brain off and absorb whatever stuck from what Mason was going on about. Usually it didn’t even matter--ranting about how a show got robbed of some award that doesn’t even matter, spewing information about whatever book he was reading, going off about whatever asshole did something stupid during his day-- Tyson would just let him go until he ran out of steam. Conversations were nice, too, when he was in just a talkative mood as well.

Mason did know how to shut up, though. Sometimes. (Hint: that’s what made him the favorite out of the Wright/Zadorov best friend duo. He could be quieter than Z. They’ve threatened to separate the two on multiple occasions, though.)

“What’d that guy even do to rile you up? You looked pissed,” Nate broke Mason out of his train of thought.

“Just called someone something stupid. I’m not gonna repeat it.”

“He called me a fag because I wouldn’t take the bait for the penalty,” Tyson said soon after. “He’s just a fucking moron because he got a longer penalty than any of us.”

There was an uncomfortable moment as that sunk in, then a few “what the fuck” or “that’s gross” phrases before people moved on to heading to the showers.

Mason was about to sneak away when Tyson called out his name.

“Hey, I wanted to catch you before you hit the shower. You got a second?”

“Yeah, sure. I just have to do some pt kind of stuff before I shower. What’s up?” he offered with a friendly smile.

“I just wanted to thank you for sticking up for me. You definitely didn’t have to, but calling him on it drew a ton of attention to it. I think it’s really important to start weeding that shit out of the sport, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Mason smiled. “I--thanks, man. That means a lot to me.”

“‘Course,” Tyson gave a nod. “And you know if you were, like… y’know, gay or… anything, really, I wouldn’t care. And neither would anyone else on the team. It’d totally be okay.”

Mason wanted to give him a reassuring “I know” but couldn’t. Hockey was definitely not the environment known for welcoming lgbt kids and turning them into well-adjusted, accepted adults.

“Thanks,” Mason murmured. “Really, that means a lot.”

“Of course,” Tyson breathed, like he was getting a huge weight off his chest. “Um, yeah. I’ll let you go do your physical therapy stuff now. I’ll see you at the bar after everything’s done here?”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna ditch you for my birthday, idiot.”

With an excited smile, Tyson turned and headed in the opposite direction.

Once he reached an area to chill out while waiting for the showers to clear out, Mason sighed, plopping into a chair and resting his head in his hands.

Obviously he knew why Tyson brought up starting to call out homophobia and other bigoted shit they were all used to just overlooking. But why did he bring up the whole ‘we’d accept you no matter what’ thing?

The thought of ‘he was very sensitive to a slur so maybe he’s gay’ never crossed Mason’s mind. That would simply be too easy and rational.

Did Tyson know he was different? What exactly did Tyson know? There was no way Tyson would out him, but still. Trusting people to keep a secret was hard. It was just easier to bottle everything up.

God, he needed to figure this out.

Maybe he’d get drunk enough tonight to just forget for a little while. He didn’t get drunk or even drink all that often, he could let go every now and then.

At the beginning of the night, Gabe took his keys, promising that he’d give them to whoever would be driving Mason home. They all knew for a fact Mason wouldn’t drive drunk, it wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities. Honestly, they were more worried about the newly twenty-three-year-old losing them or putting them somewhere so he’d ‘remember where they are later’, which was proven ineffective at the last gathering Gabe threw.

“If you can’t figure out where the stupid keys are, he can come get them in the morning or I can drop them off to him or something,” Gabe rolled his eyes.

“You’re sure you don’t remember where you put them?” JT triple-checked. He’d been the designated driver for a few of them, including Mason, Tyson, and a couple others who had already gotten out to the car.

Mason shook his head. “I’m not even that drunk,” he insisted.

“Uh-huh. Gabe, just let me know if you find ‘em and we can work something out for him in the morning.”

Twenty minutes later, Gabe sent a picture and “anyone know who these belong to?” in the group chat. It was, without a doubt, Mason’s keys, adorned with a keychain reading “DETROIT” in graffiti lettering. He was from Detroit, and everyone knew that he refused to take that keychain off until it literally fell off for some sentimental reason, most likely.

‘Lol where’d you find it?’ someone texted back.

‘My dishwasher. His wallet was there too’

Mason has still never heard the end of that. No matter how hard he tried to explain that when he put them somewhere, it meant that he wouldn’t lose them or buy something stupid online (last time that happened, he bought a thing to hang on a window so your cat could sit on it and sunbathe. Mason has not owned a cat at any point in his life.) and he’d remember where it was once he sobered up.

Of course he still gets relentless shit for it. He wouldn’t expect any different.

Currently, Mason and Z were arm wrestling over a table in the back of the bar, people beginning to call it quits and going home. And with his pride hurt that he could not beat Z in an arm wrestling match, Tyson stole the other’s keys and wallet from Gabe, saying goodbyes and forcing Mason to as well.

“You are blasted, man.”

“Mmph,” he shrugged and laid his head against the passenger window. “I wanna lay down and sleep.”

“You can when I get you home. Gimmie your seatbelt so I can buckle you in.”

Mason followed the order with a small pout, not drunk enough to the point of incoherence but… definitely a little fucked up. Tyson had done this before: dealing with the mopey friend at the end of the night. Mason was definitely one to get mopey or clingy once they left the main event.

“My face hurts.”

“That checks out, buddy. I’ll get you some ice for it back at your place. What?” Tyson continued to ask when Mason stared out the windshield all angsty.

“Still can’t believe I couldn’t beat Z.”

“That guy could slam most of us through a table, don’t beat yourself up.”

“Can’t. Someone already did.”

“You’re full of jokes, huh?”

Mason just grinned sleepily as they pulled into the apartment complex and Tyson had an arm wrapped around his friend to keep him steady. Getting a drunk person to go to bed was usually one of the hardest parts of the night.

“Would you just--”

“I got it,” Mason huffed, fumbling with his keys near the lock of the door.

“Dude.”

“Shut up, you’re gonna wake up my neighbors,” he grumbled, finally getting the door open with a triumphant “see? I’m an adult.”

“I see. Go be an adult and get ready to go to bed,” Tyson rolled his eyes, taking the keys out of the door and locking it behind them.

“I don’t wanna sleep,” he replied quickly.

“You’re drunk, what do you mean you don’t want to sleep?”

“Not tired,” he flopped down on the couch.

“At least get out of your clothes. That way if you fall asleep it’s in pajamas.”

Mason was sprawled out, already clicking through Netflix.

“Fine, I will go get you pajamas. Here,” Tyson pressed a cold compress to a bruise on his face and headed to the bedroom.

“Thanks for driving me,” he heard from the other room.

“‘Course,” Tyson called back. “Here, put these on,” he tossed the clothes at Mason.

“Are you staying here? You can take the guest room, if you want.”

“Sure. Probably easier than trying to get home this late,” Tyson shrugged and headed for the kitchen. As he heard the rustling around of what he assumed was his friend changing, Tyson got a glass of water and painkillers for when Mason woke up.

“I can drive you home tomorrow,” Mason slurred even more heavily as he began getting more tired. He’d managed to get his jeans off and a pair of shorts on before moving onto the shirt. He’d just pulled his shirt off when Tyson walked back in the room with the water.

“Woah,” he said quietly, stopping quickly.

For whatever reason, he’d never realized that he had never seen his teammate and friend shirtless. That was weird, especially when you played sports together for a living. He assumed it was due to the faded scars along his chest, almost in a u-shape under each pec.

He didn’t even know what kind of injury would cause that kind of surgery.

“When did you get surgery?”

Fuck was all that ran through Mason’s head.

#nhl #hockey #mens hockey #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #fanfiction #m/m ship #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey fandom #nhl fandom #tyson jost #avalanche #colorado avalanche #Colorado Avalanche fanfic #my stuff

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letterboxd · 3 years

Photo

Found Family.

Riders of Justice writer-director Anders Thomas Jensen opens up to Aaron Yap about grimly funny fairy-tales, woke teenagers and creating an accidental Christmas movie with hunky muse, Mads Mikkelsen.

“Genres, that’s just a sales tool really. That’s to give people, show people, ‘are we having sushi or are we having Italian?’ Sometimes I like it when you don’t know what you’re getting.” —Anders Thomas Jensen

It’s stupidly easy to sell writer-director Anders Thomas Jensen’s new film Riders of Justice on its thirsty pulp appeal alone. Who can resist the promise of Danish acting force Mads Mikkelsen finally getting a decent John Wick-ish vehicle of his own, stoically meting out anguished, bloody vengeance to a cadre of underworld thugs? Certainly not, among many Letterboxd members, Harlequinade, who was moved to write this ode:

“MikkelGod sporting a bushy beard MikkelGod wearing a military uniform MikkelGod wearing a suit MikkelGod having this whole silverfox daddy thing going on MikkelGod killing a man with his big beautiful bare hands MIKKELGOD 🤗🙏🏻😍”

But to dismiss Riders of Justice as another entry in the seemingly endless slew of action-revenge pics would also be to undersell its other layers. Much more than Wick, your average Liam Neeson thriller-of-the-month, or even the recent avenging-dad flick, Nobody, Riders positions itself in a more emotionally and psychologically rewarding space, one perhaps closer to its tonally fluid South Korean counterparts. “What lingers,” Douglas Davidson writes, “are the questions Anders presents and the strange hopefulness that flickers upon the credits roll, burning like the embers of a dying fire in the darkness of night.”

It’s of a piece with all of Jensen’s directorial work thus far. A prolific screenwriter who’s penned everything from soulful early Susanne Bier heartbreakers to the recently misfiring The Dark Tower adaptation, Jensen, as a director, has found a sharply honed groove in the form of grimly funny, genre-defying modern fairy-tales populated by oddball characters forced to contend with the chaos of the inscrutable cosmos around them.

Causality plays an even more pronounced role in Riders. The film’s unlikely heroes—hard-bitten special forces soldier Markus Hensen (Mikkelsen) and a trio of bumbling data wizards (Lars Brygmann and Jensen regulars Nikolaj Lie Kaas and Nicolas Bro)—are drawn together to take down a vicious biker gang, but also preoccupied with processing the hows and whys of grief and trauma, and of course, the value of revenge.

Amid the terse blasts of gunfire, the film foregrounds scenes of connection and healing between its characters, an assortment of progressive teens and bumbling middle-aged men whose unusual found-family dynamic recalls Jensen’s previous dark, offbeat comedies like Adam’s Apples and Men and Chicken. As More_Baddass writes, the film gifts us some “Christmastime therapy of an unorthodox family”.

Over Zoom, we spoke about whether it’s possible to make Mikkelsen less handsome, why Denmark won’t be getting a sci-fi blockbuster anytime soon, and the time that Jensen and a friend tried to break the Guinness World Record for movie-watching.

‘Riders of Justice’ cast members Lars Brygmann, Andrea Heick Gadeberg, Mads Mikkelsen, Nikolaj Lie Kaas and Nicolas Bro.

Riders of Justice is one of your more action-packed films. Did you watch any other action flicks, or were there any specific movies that inspired you while you were designing and creating the action in this film? Anders Thomas Jensen: It’s funny, because it’s always subconscious. I never look for inspiration directly because for me, that would be weird to do because then you’re just copying. Definitely in the back of my mind, there’s a lot of action movies and a lot of revenge movies that I’ve seen in the past that will work their way in there. The process for me is very, how do you say, unconscious? What’s it called?

Intuitive? Intuitive, that’s the word. Thank you. First of all, a revenge movie is not easy, but it always has a strong lead and it has a strong will, which is obviously really good if you want to do a script that moves forward. Hamlet is a revenge story, right? I love Once Upon a Time in the West. I love that. The Searchers. The Sting, I guess, is also a revenge movie. Also, there’s so much identification in people who are wronged.

Wish fulfilment. Yeah that too. It’s one of the obviously basic human feelings. Revenge, love. There are these emotions that you’ll do dramas based on long after we were here.

I understand that you took a break from directing for a while and you were spending time raising your family. I’ve noticed, with Men & Chicken and Riders of Justice there’s a lot of attention paid to parenthood, and the role of the parent. Was that intentionally woven into these narratives and something you were thinking of? Yeah. I don’t do it on purpose, but I can definitely see that every movie I ever made I’m very much a part of it. So the whole father story is part of my life in this movie. I have a teenage daughter who I sometimes feel like … I don’t at all have the emotional tools that she and her friends have. This new woke generation that I’m aware of; every single feeling and the environment and everything. I was brought up in a different way. So that’s quite personal in the story, the whole ‘father who has to learn how to communicate through feelings when he’s not very good at it’.

Mads Mikkelsen and Andrea Heick Gadeberg in a scene from ‘Riders of Justice’.

Would you consider Riders of Justice a Christmas movie? Well, it’s so funny because I didn’t see it at all before one of my editors said. No, I wouldn’t because I didn’t pay attention to it at all. The only reason it ends on Christmas is because that’s the perfect coming together of a family. I needed it in the end, but it could have been Easter, but it wasn’t. Perhaps it is a Christmas movie now because it does have Christmas in it.

What was the first film that made you want to be a filmmaker? There are several, but I think the first time I had was Lawrence of Arabia. I saw that when I was very little, when I perhaps shouldn’t have seen it. But when I was around ten, I got a bootleg copy of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. VCRs were a brand new thing and we got a VCR. I saw that film every day for half a year and I still know every line in it. It’s not getting out of my head. I love that film and I think from there on, I knew that I wanted to do films.

As a screenwriter, do you have any other screenwriters that you respect and admire? I have many. Billy Wilder is one of my favorites. Also, Ingmar Bergman, the Coen Brothers, Robert Towne, but many others also. There are a lot of good screenwriters.

I can see elements of those writers coming through your work, especially the first three. You’re really good at blending elements from different genres and putting strange characters together. Are there any other genres you want to explore that you haven’t yet? Well, it’s funny because every time I open up a new streaming service, I look for sci-fi movies first. I’m part of the Academy and when I get the screeners, I’m always checking for sci-fi. I have a love for sci-fi, but unfortunately I’m born in a country where doing a sci-fi film would just be insane. It’s never been done. If you have a really big budget, you have five to six million here. So it’s just something that won’t happen. But of course, you could get ambitious and write a sci-fi movie and hope you could do it somewhere else. I hope one day [to] do a good sci-fi movie, or at least something within that genre because it is a favorite.

But I also have to say, basically, I love all genres. Perhaps not rom-com that much, but I really like Westerns. I like war movies, revenge movies, dramas. I love to mix genres. Every time I do a movie, I get this from the distributors: “What are we going to call it?” Because it is this mix of genres. Genres, that’s just a sales tool really. That’s to give people, show people, “are we having sushi or are we having Italian?” So people don’t get confused. But I think sometimes I like it when you don’t know what you’re getting. That’s also what I love about the Coen Brothers and other directors that play with genres, is that I never know where it’s going.

‘Riders of Justice’ writer-director Anders Thomas Jensen.

Let’s talk a little about Danish cinema. You have your Lars von Trier, you have your Vinterberg and Susanne Bier. Is there an older Danish film that you would recommend that people should see? I actually thought about it and it’s going to sound arrogant, but I couldn’t find one. Not when I compare to what else is out there of American, French, Italian, British, German, Russian and Asian. No, there isn’t. Of course there’s Carl Dreyer. He’s an icon in early, early cinema. That’s the obvious thing to say, but no. For me, Danish cinema starts in the ’90s. Also, I haven’t watched many Danish movies before that, because there aren’t that many. Some people will hate me for saying this, but that’s how I feel.

Are there any recent Danish films or filmmakers that you can recommend? This year I saw a film called Shorta, which was great. It was made by two directors with no budget, about two cops venturing into this Muslim part of Copenhagen where there’s a riot. That was really a promising debut. Also, I really like the idea they had. They made a lot of great stuff visually and for almost no money.

What are your movie-watching habits? You said when you turn on a streaming service, you look out for sci-fi movies. Do you have any other weird behaviors? It’s crazy, but if I really like a movie, I see it many times. I also see it many times where I do not look at it. I hear it. I will just lie with my back to it and just hear the movie. Actually, if the movie is really good, it also works without the picture.

I think that’s [as] weird as it gets, otherwise I’m pretty much normal. I used to binge-watch. Actually, I tried to get into a Guinness Book of Record with a friend when I was fifteen, where, for five days continuously, we watched movies. I can’t remember if it was 107 movies. We watched movies and we had a video store sponsor us. We were lying in an all-night video store, and just saw films until we collapsed. That’s the craziest thing I’ve done, but we never got into the book because there are people that are better at not sleeping, so somebody else beat the record by far.

Do you have a list, or a record of what you watched? No, but there was a journalist that asked us what number afterwards. He asked me, “What film was the film number? 47, 46?” I remember him being very impressed that I could differentiate them.

It would have made a great Letterboxd list. Preserve it for eternity. The funny thing is years after I would actually see a film, and I would get an hour into it and I would go, “Oh, I’ve seen this one.” It was because when I saw the last 30 films, I was unconscious.

I need to ask about Mads Mikkelsen because he’s massive with our community. You’ve worked with him for quite a long time now, so you’ve got a pretty solid working relationship. Having just watched a number of your films in a short period of time, it was impressive that you found that range in him that maybe other filmmakers haven’t tapped into. Is there a type of role that you want to see him in that he hasn’t had a chance to play yet? Yes. There are many roles, but I don’t know. I could put a job description or a feeling on it, but it’s much more complicated with Mads, I think. We have this common thing that we love exploring people who lie to themselves, whether it’s comedy or drama. People who are not being honest with themselves and people who have this screwed up self-image, which in all the films we’ve done together, his character has. There are many other characters I would love to explore with Mads.

His looks are quite specific in each film. He just looks like a different person each time, which is great. You just want to see how he is going to look in the next one. His wife is like that too. She’s always excited and she was so happy this time because he wasn’t ugly. Normally he doesn’t look very well, like in The Green Butchers. Because he’s so handsome, so I try to do him not so handsome.

Riders is the hunkiest he’s been in your films, I guess. Definitely. The competition isn’t tough, though. You’re up against a guy who masturbates and a guy with a bad receding hairline. But it is by far his most hunky.