#my sister is over a decade older than me and we do that type of shit

[russos-ventitre]

why am i seeing ppl saying that siblings don’t act like that with that leah vid of her reuniting with her brother. like?? none of yall know what it’s like to have a close relationship with a sibling and it shows

#my sister is over a decade older than me and we do that type of shit #god forbid you’re best friends with your sibling #please touch some grass #i beg

[dulcesiabits]

stars you only see during the day.

summary: reo mikage needs a date for his parties, and you need something to do during the summer. What could possibly go wrong when you both enter a contractual relationship?

notes: 11k words, fic, author's notes, fake dating, trying to capture goofy summer fun romcom vibes

Swanky parties like this are so not your style. 

Lavishly dressed guests buzz in little groups, sporting designer handbags and miles of silk that cost more than your entire house. Tropical fishes swim in tranquility through the glass tanks of the walls, which cast blue light over the white tablecloths and platters of prime cut roasts and elaborately crafted desserts dusted in gold dust.

Honestly, you wouldn’t normally have been allowed into a place like this; the security guards would have taken one look at your sneakers and chain store jeans and told you to go home. But you’re not here as a guest. No, your sister has hooked you up with a gig as a caterer, so you’re actually one of the invisible waitstaff in a stiff black vest and white collared shirt, drifting amongst the crowd, serving rich people their fancy little foods.

“It pays well,” your sister had pronounced, batting her eyelashes at you. “Come on. You’re always strapped for cash. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“And if it’s so good, why aren’t you going?” you had asked her dryly. 

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t have the time. Otherwise I’d be hustling with you. Come on, do it for me! It’ll be fun! The place will be nice, promise!” 

Nice is an understatement for how decadent the place is. If you were to break something here, you think your family would be in debt for the next seven generations over. But since you’re captive to your need for money, you try to skirt past the pricer decorations. 

Still. Your sister is right in that this is a simple, and more importantly, well-paying, gig. Get in, walk around aimlessly with a platter in your hand, and get out. That’s all you were looking forward to, really: the paycheck at the end of this. You vaguely recognize some of the guests– probably from the news or on social media, A-list celebrities and trust fund babies– but you don’t care enough to take a closer look.

It’s been a few hours into your shift, and your arm is starting to cramp from carrying around a silver plate for most of the evening. The little shrimp on your plate are dwindling, and you rotate around the room slowly one last time to tempt people to grab your food. Then, you can take a break and put up your feet, and maybe sneak a little bit of the fancy food to try yourself; after all, you heard that some of the ingredients were imported straight from Europe.

You pass by a pack of guests knotted together near a table, and one of them bumps into you with enough force to make you stumble, some youngish looking man in a white suit and slicked-back bleached hair. He barely spares you a glance. 

“Watch where you’re going or I’ll get you kicked out,” he snarls.

“Right. Sorry, sir,” you say blandly, fighting back the urge to strangle him and ask “who the hell do you think you are?” Your sister has warned you to stay out of trouble, after all.

“Don’t bother the waitstaff, Takei-san,” someone says just as Takei sneers, opening his mouth to berate you some more, probably. He looks the type. But Takei’s head swivels back around so fast it makes you dizzy. You crane your head, just in time to catch the owner of the voice: a boy with a flute of fizzy water in his hand. He’s cute, with uneven bangs and a dove gray suit, and probably around your age, if not a little older.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mikage-san,” Takei simpers. “Ah, but we have more important matters to discuss, don’t we? What do you think about meeting my sister? She’s lovely, and she’s around your age. Just say the word, and I can arrange a meeting!” 

Mikage? Is that the boy’s name? It’s familiar. You’ve seen it on social media a few times; maybe this boy is a lot more famous than you thought. He’s a corporate heir, if you remember correctly. Mikage catches your eye and inclines his head, as if to say you were free to go. 

“I would have to think about it, Takei-san,” Mikage replies, turning back to Takei. If there’s one thing you can pride yourself on, it’s how to read people, and there’s plenty to dissect from Mikage’s tense body posture. There’s a smile on his face, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. In fact, he looks a little bored, underneath that veneer of politeness. Bored, and strangely vacant, as if the uppercrust of Japan’s society weren’t more interesting than the blades of grass outside of his window.

Normally, you would shrug, go “that sucks for him,” and run back to the break room as soon as you could. The problems of fancy rich boys aren’t really your business. But it’s been a long night, and you’re a little antsy (your troublemaking instinct, as your sister calls it). That, and maybe you’ve watched too many romcoms and dramas with your sister recently, too, because he’s cute. And, well, you should at least try to help out the guy who helped you, right? Tic for tat, and all that, even if it was a small thing on his part.

But none of your justifications to yourself really matter, because you’re already sliding your way into the crowd until you’re at Mikage’s elbow, saying, “sir?”

He inclines his head at you without really looking at you. “Yes?”

“There’s someone looking for you,” you say blandly. “They were impatient. It seemed important.”

“Hm? Did they tell you their name?” Mikage asks.

“Didn’t quite catch it, but it’s urgent,” you stress.

Mikage’s eyes widen, just slightly, and you can see the puzzle pieces coming together in his head. He must have picked up on what you were doing, because he nods gravely, and says, “I should head over, then. It’s probably Yasuhiro-san. Can’t keep a board member waiting.”

“Ah, but Mikage-san–” Takei’s mouth is slightly slack, and he glares at you when you catch his eye. What did you even do to him? Is he mad that you’re taking Mikage’s attention off of him?

“I should go.” Mikage extracts himself from the crowd, who all groan in disappointment. As the two of you leave, you make sure to subtly dig the heel of your shoe onto Takei’s foot, who yelps.

“What the– Did you just step on– Hey! Stop!” 

But you’re speeding off with Mikage at your side, and you try not to grin when you imagine Takei’s red, angry face. 

Mikage snorts, but when you glance at him, he’s passed it off as a cough, turning his face into the crook of his elbow. “You’re a bit clumsy, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say primly, and this time, Mikage doesn’t hide his laugh. To keep up your ruse, you lead Mikage into a hallway, where rows of imported European impressionist art stretch along the walls, your footsteps sinking into the plush burgundy carpet.

“So… I have to be honest,” you say. “There isn’t someone asking for your presence. I made it up to get you out of there. Surprise!” You wave your hands.

Mikage crosses his arms. “So why did you do that, then?”

“You helped me, so I helped you,” you say simply. “Besides, you looked bored.”

In the darkness, Mikage is reduced to shadowy shapes, but you can still feel the force of his gaze, like a lighthouse cutting through the darkness. He’s appraising you, and it sends tingles down your spine.

“Huh.” That’s all Mikage says, and you wonder if you passed whatever mental evaluation he was doing.

 The platter is still in your hands, and there’s still a few shrimp left, so you grab one and shove it into your mouth. You chew, savoring the freshness, and the tangy sauce it’s coated in.

Wait. It’d be rude to just eat in front of someone, without even asking if they’re hungry. You offer Mikage the plate. “Want one?”

“S… sure,” he says, carefully plucking a shrimp between his thumb and forefinger, before placing it on his tongue. The two of you pass the platter back and forth between each other until it’s empty.

“That was good!” You stretch your arms over your head. “I wanted to try at least some of the food at this party before I went home. There’s nothing else really going for this place. No offense,” you add. 

“None taken. You’re… huh.”

“Weird? Bold?” you supplement. “I’ve heard it all.”

“No, I was going to say you’re interesting,” Mikage says quickly.

You roll your eyes. “Interesting? Like a dog?”

“I would say you remind me more of a hamster,” Mikage says. 

“A hamster? Really? What if I bit you right now?”

“I’m not sure you could do much to me.”

“I wouldn’t want to damage my teeth, anyways,” you quip. The noise of the party leaks into the hallway, and you glance back through the door. “I should get back. I don’t want to give anyone an excuse to dock my pay.”

Before you can move a step, Mikage holds out a hand. He takes a breath, as if coming to some sort of internal decision. “Wait. What if… I hired you for something else?”

“For… what?”

“What if I hired you to stand around and talk to me?” 

You take a step back. “Um… I’m a first year in high school, just so you know. I don’t want to do anything weird.”

“Wh– No!” Mikage says, his veneer of poise sliding right off and shattering onto the floor. “I didn’t mean it like that! I’m not asking you to– I just– I’m only a second year!” he adds.

“Takei did offer to introduce you to his sister back there,” you say wryly, jerking your thumb towards the party. “And, like, I don’t know much about your life, but if you’re desperate enough for company, there’s dating apps. Just… uh… hang in there.”

Mikage runs a hand along his face. “I’m not desperate. I’m the most popular guy in my class, just so you know.”

“Okay…”

“I wanted to ask if you would date me,” he says, “Fake date me. Because people like Takei keep trying to jump down my back and draw me into political marriages. We can draw up a contract to make it official,” he adds hastily. “I just need someone to come with me to parties like this as my partner.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you’re interesting,” he says simply. “Besides… you would get to eat as much shrimp as you want. Without having to sneak them off of plates.” 

“I don’t know,” you say coyly, looking down at your fingers. “I don’t really like doing boring things.”

“It won’t be boring.” Mikage takes a step towards you, confidence in his face, a hand on his chest. “I’ll ensure everyday is fun for you.” 

You can already imagine what your sister will say when you tell her what happened today. No doubt she and your older brother would both groan at your carelessness. What if this is some sort of prank, or fancy trick? Oh well! You’ll just have to take your chances. 

You stick out your hand. Mikage takes it without hesitation. “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal. But if it’s boring, then I’m going to leave you, Mikage,” you warn. 

“Hah. You’ll never have a reason to,” Mikage says confidently. “But call me Reo.”

You raise an eyebrow. “We just met, and you want me to call you by your first name? Moving fast, are we?”

“I’m going to be your fake boyfriend,” Mikage says. “Don’t tell me you’re already getting cold feet.” 

“Not at all. You can call me by my first name too, Reo,” you emphasize. “I’m looking forward to working with you.” 

Reo smiles, squeezing your hand once before firmly shaking it. “Likewise, partner.” 

Well. This certainly isn’t what you expected to get up to when your sister offered you the job, and there are a thousand ways this could blow up in your face. What if Reo is actually a bad person, and tried to sell your organs? Or his mother threw money at you and told you to leave her son because you aren’t good enough for him, just like in every drama you’ve seen?  

But this is the most exhilarating opportunity you’ve been offered in a long while. Exciting experiences, and fun opportunities: you’ve always been the first to jump onto those. Besides, Reo is cute, and this deal will definitely be a good story to tell your friends about later. There’s no way this could go wrong.

—

You’re usually never up before 10am, but somehow, at 8am a few days after the party you worked at, you find yourself at a little cafe in Shibuya, blinking blearily in the pale light. Reo, sitting across from you, has a cup of coffee steaming at his elbow, and you privately curse his poise and his nice polo and slacks. How dare he look so put together, especially when you just threw on some clothes from your floor.

“So,” you say, propping your elbows on the table, your cheek pressed against your hand, “What was so urgent that you couldn’t wait for a more decent hour to call me?”

Reo raises an eyebrow. “This is a decent hour. But I wanted to discuss the terms of our contract.” 

You stare at him blankly. He snaps his fingers. “Remember? Our deal?”

“Right.” You yawn, and Reo pushes his cup of coffee towards you.

“I haven’t drank any of it yet,” he says. “Have some.”

“So no indirect kiss for me?” you tease, but take a tentative sip of the brew. You wrinkle your nose; it’s bitter and dark, and it stings your mouth as it goes down. “You didn’t put cream in this.”

“I like the way coffee tastes naturally. Besides, the coffee they brew here is through a special drip pour method, to allow the beans to retain maximum flavor…” You take another sip as Reo rambles, and shudder. Well, you were definitely more awake now.

“So, what is this about a contract?” you say. 

“I want us to establish some ground rules for our deal, just so we’re both clear on the expectations and procedures for what we’re about to undertake,” Reo begins. He slides a packet of paper across the table, the kind that’s made with cardstock, thick and creamy. It’s neatly formatted, but your eyes glaze at the professional tone and the dry language of the text.

“All right, hit me with it, rich boy,” you say, slouching back in your chair.

“Well, I wanted to establish a basic time frame for our operation, as well as some ground rules, and cover some of the various scenarios you might encounter–” You put up a hand, and Reo pauses. 

“Do you have a pen?” you say bluntly. 

Reo fishes out a fountain pen from his bag. “I do, but why do you–”

You flip over the packet to the blank backside, and write down a number one. “So! I think it’s really nice of you to get this entire thing prepared for us, but this is too much. We’re high schoolers, and your rules are 15 pages long. Why don’t we make this easier on ourselves?”

Reo purses his lips. “I guess. For the sake of fairness, it’s probably better if we come up with rules together.”

“Great! So, rule number one. We’re going to be fake dating until you stop needing a date to your parties. That’s probably going to be when summer ends, so that’s when our contract ends. Rule number two. I’ll go with you to all your fancy parties, but you have to help me with, like, etiquette and clothes and what to say. I’ll just be your eye candy. Which I absolutely excel at, by the way. Rule number three. I’ll go to as many parties as you want, but you need to give me at least two days’ warning in advance. I have my own life, you know.” You scribble as you talk, and Reo nods at each of your rules. When you pause, you look up to see Reo with furrowed eyebrows.

“Add another rule,” Reo says seriously. “No falling for each other.”

You burst out laughing, dropping the pen in surprise. A few early morning workers stare at you as they walk past, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. “Seriously? Do you think this is a drama?”

“It’s a necessary precaution,” he insists, but his ears are red. “I just want to make it absolutely clear: this is all for show.”

You snort, but move to jot down the rule anyways. “No offense, but you’re not my type at all. That’s not going to be an issue. You’re kinda full of yourself, huh?”

“I’m not! I’m just saying with my specs, it wouldn’t be weird if you–” Reo falters at your pointed stare. “Listen. I’m used to all sorts of people coming up to me. It doesn’t hurt to be careful, okay?”

“Maybe you’re scared of falling for me, Reo,” you say, leaning forward and batting your eyelashes at him. “I understand, though. I’m pretty cute.”

Reo purses his lips. “And no offense to you, but you’re also not my type at all. I prefer people who are more mature.”

You throw your hands up in mock offense. “Wow! Only five minutes since our fake relationship began, and you’re already hurting my feelings.”

“My apology, baby,” Reo says in a cloying tone. “How on earth shall I make it up to you?”

You shudder. “For starters, don’t call me baby ever again. Ick.”

“I don’t–” Reo begins indignantly, but you quickly scribble your signature under your list of rules, before thrusting the paper at him. “What?”

“Sign your name,” you say, “So it’s official. Isn’t that how you business types like to do things?”

“We’re minors. Our signatures don’t count. But if you insist,” Reo says, signing his name with an elegant scrawl.

“Perfect! Now that we’re officially dating, what do we do?” you say.

“What about a date? A practice one,” Reo says hastily. A pity, because now you can’t tease him about how enamored he is with you. “It’ll be easier to act like a couple at parties if we’re more familiar with each other.”

“All right. Come pick me up in two days, then. And at noon,” you add, “Because I don’t want to do an early morning date.”

“What about right now?” Reo protests.

You throw him a withering stare. “First, I’m not dressed for the part. Second, neither of us are prepared. And third, what did I just say about early morning dates? We need a bit of planning time, rich boy, because dates are serious business.”

Reo holds up his hands. “Okay, okay. I got it. I’ll run our plans with you by tomorrow, at the latest. Sounds good?”

You smile. “Great! Sounds like you’ve already got being a good boyfriend down pat. See you in two days, boyfriend.”

—

If there’s one thing Reo is, he’s meticulous. After you part ways, you exchange phone numbers, and true to his word, he blows up your phone with a detailed plan of your first date. He’s so overzealous in planning that you remind him it’s just a practice date, and that it’s better to keep things casual, rather than the boating-fancy restaurant-live musicians extravaganza he has planned.

Two days later, when you ascend from the subway steps into the sticky summer heat and walk a few blocks until the concrete turns to greenery, you find Reo waiting at a nearby park, sunglasses on his face and a wicker basket under his arm.

“Welcome,” Reo says, making a half-bow. “I hope you’re ready for the date of a lifetime.”

“I’m giving you three stars of five,” you say.

“Wh– We haven’t gone on it yet! How can you rate me that low?”

“Two out of five,” you say. “Just for talking back to me and questioning my review.”

“Let’s just hurry up and go,” Reo grumbles. 

The two of you glide alongside blossoming trees, white flowers perfuming the air, and cross a stone bridge stretched invitingly along a river. The water rushes cold and clear across gray stones, a weeping willow trailing its graceful limbs on the opposite bank.

When you reach a narrow glade, Reo gallantly unfurls a blanket and spreads it along the grass. From the wicker basket emerges a rainbow of sandwiches, freshly cut fruit slices, and a thermos of tea.

He pours you a cup, and you take a sip as Reo settles down with a sandwich.

“You went through a lot of trouble to set up this contractual date,” you say, picking up a slice of skewered mango. “What’s the point? Couldn’t you just hire someone else?”

“Do you think I could set up an ad, announcing to the world that the Mikage heir is looking for a partner?” he says dryly. “Any of the other people I could have asked run in my parents’ business circle, too, so it wouldn’t have been convenient for me. And I’m not risking my own social standing at school by asking a girl from there. That leaves you.”

You twirl the mango around. “What if I was, like, a bad person, though? And I leaked your personal information or something?”

“I ran a background check on you. You came up clean.”

“What? Hey! That’s not fair. I didn’t get to run one on you,” you protest.

“I’m someone in the public eye,” he says. “Anything you want to know about me, you can look up online.” 

To be fair, you had googled his name when you got home after your morning meeting, and scrolled through his various public social media accounts. Not that he needed to know that. Wait, maybe he already did, if he ran a background check on you. Did he have access to your internet history? Okay. Maybe it’s better to stop thinking about that before you drive yourself insane.

“But that’s not the same as getting to know you. The person Mikage Reo is in public, and the person he is in private are two different people. Tell me something juicy. Like, why don’t you just reject any proposals thrown your way instead of getting a fake partner?” you say.

Reo spreads his hands. “Social maneuvering. It’s better to ward off people from sending proposals to me in the first place than it is to reject each and every person who approaches me.”

“Sure. That makes sense. So… then… Haven’t you ever been in love before?”

“What sort of question is that?” he says.

“I’m trying to get to know you,” you declare, “And I’m curious. You can ask me a question like that, too, if you want.”

“I can answer your question. It’s fine.” Reo pours himself a cup of tea. “Being in love… I haven’t. Not yet. I’ve never been interested in romance. Why, have you?”

“I wouldn’t call it love, but I did date a boy back in middle school. Not because I really liked him, but because he thought I was cute, and I liked him well enough as a friend. Didn’t last too long, though. Your turn for a question,” you add.

Reo takes a sip. “Well, I was wondering… do you have any hobbies?”

“That’s a pretty simple question. But I like scrapbooking and volleyball. I like making memories, and I like sports.”

Reo leans forward, a keen interest in his eyes. “Do you like football, then? I run the school’s football club.”

“I’ve only ever played a little with my older brother. He’s the bigger fan,” you admit. “Do you want to play a game one day? I bet I could demolish you.”

“Hah. As if. I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t regret it later,” you warn, and he laughs. “What do you even like about football?”

“I want to win the world cup,” he says simply. “It’s my dream.” His eyes are reflective, and there’s an edge of seriousness to his tone, an intensity he’s never had before.

You pick up a cucumber sandwich, taking an experimental bite. “When you do, give me an autograph. I can sell it for a million yen.”

“No jokes? I thought you would tell me it’s silly.”

“Well, it sounds like it’s important to you. I’m not going to make fun of something you care about,” you say, amused, shoving the rest of the sandwich into your mouth.

Reo scratches the back of his neck, though there’s a pleased, cat-like smile curling on his face. “Thanks. Do you have a dream?”

“I don’t know if it counts, but I just want to have fun. I want to see new places, and to meet new people, and to experience all sorts of fun things. Isn’t that enough?”

Reo picks up another sandwich, handing it to you, which you demolish in one bite. “I think it is,” he says. “It sounds like you.”

You lick the crumbs off your lips. Reo is a lot more… different, than you thought a corporate heir would be. But it’s nice that it’s easy being with him. Easy, and fun. “I should thank you, actually. This contract is pretty exciting. I’ve never done anything like it before. Thank you, Reo.”

“I don’t know if this is something you should thank me for. But you’re welcome. Thanks for agreeing to go along with me,” he says.

You smile at him, sunshine warm on your shoulders. “So, when’s the first party, boyfriend? I’m pretty excited for it already.”

“Straight to business, huh? Well, it’s in a few days. I’ll text you more details later, and I’ll come pick you up. But hey, before that…” Reo offers you his hand. “Do you want to take a walk? Weather’s nice.”

“Oh! Make sure the car you come in to pick me up is real fancy, okay? My family’s going to be home, and I want to rub it in my brother’s face,” you muse.

“That’s easy. Who do you think I am?”

You don’t hesitate as you slip your hand into his. His grip is soft but strong, and when he pulls you up, for a second, all you can see is Reo, outlined by the glow of the sun.

—

When the sleek black car pulls up to the entrance of your house a few days later, your older siblings are crowded around the window, peeking through the curtains to catch the first glimpse of your date. Your sister whistles, while your brother’s jaw drops.

“What is this?” he says. “What–”

“It’s my date,” you say smugly.

“Your date? Someone wants to go out with you?”

You smack him on the shoulder. “Yeah, unlike you!”

“Does he have money?” your sister asks. “Because good going. Make sure you milk him for what he’s worth.”

“I just– what the hell? No way you got a date before me. And not in that– that car!” your brother complains, rubbing his shoulder, but you’re already skipping out the door.

“Great work, boyfriend,” you say to Reo, blowing him a faux kiss. He’s waiting for you outside the car, already dressed in a navy blue suit.

Reo has an irritating little smirk on his face. “What can I say? My wonderful partner told me to bring a fancy car, and I just had a hard time choosing which one.”

He pulls open the side door for you with an exaggerated flourish, and you slide in. The seats are smooth leather, and the AC is cranked to a cool temperature. There’s more than enough room for a dozen other people, and there’s a mini fridge in the corner that, when you open, is stuffed full of drinks. The windows are tinted, but that doesn’t stop you from rolling it down to wave at your flabbergasted brother before you go, your sister the only one to wave back.

“What do you want me to do at the party?” you say, settling into the supple leather. 

“Just stick by my side,” Reo says. “And try not to offend anyone.”

“Done, and done,” you say, throwing him finger guns.

After half an hour, you and Reo chatting to pass the time, the limo pulls to a smooth stop at the end of a gravel-lined driveway. It’s lucky that Reo is the one who helped to choose and sent an outfit to you prior to the party, because all the other guests lounging in the gardens or spilling out the wide open doors are dressed to the nines. You don’t even want to think about the costs of some of those clothes. The inside of the venue is sparkling so brightly that you almost can’t make out any of the decorations; it’s just gold on top of gold on top of gold, but there is, luckily for you, a buffet table in the corner.

As soon as the two of you step foot through the door, you’re swarmed by a pack of guests with glittery smiles. Reo swiftly takes your elbow, pulling you closer to him, and you discretely loop your arm around his.

“Who is this, Mikage-san?” someone says. An actress, you’re sure. Is she eying you with… envy? Okay, that is weird. Wow. You’re pretty sure she’s been nominated for several different awards.

“They’re my date for the night,” he says smoothly.

“How sweet!” the actress says, and after giving you one more side-eye, turns her attention back to Reo.

The rest of the night goes mostly like that, actually. People are curious about you– watching you with a mix of jealousy, judgment and disdain in their eyes– before marking you off as a non-threat and turning back to Reo. It’s exhausting, frankly. How does he deal with it? You’re no chump when it comes to social situations, but this is on a different level. All the fake smiles, the pointed lines, the constant appraising. It’s like being under an endless spotlight; everyone is waiting for you to slip up, just once, to tear you down.

When you glance at Reo, his eyes are distant again, just like they were at that first party. It’s not the Reo you’ve come to know, the Reo who teased you at the picnic and talked about his dreams.

“Cheer up, boyfriend,” you whisper in his ear, resting your hands on his shoulder to speak solely to him. “I think they’re serving shrimp tonight.”

“Oh, your favorite. This time, you don’t need to hide in a hallway to eat them,” Reo whispers back, the ice in his face cracking to reveal a genuine smile. “Let’s go get some.”

After waving off his admirers, the two of you head to the buffet, where you immediately pick up a plate and begin piling up food. Reo wanders off to grab the two of you some drinks.

“Hah? It’s you. They really just let anyone in,” you hear a sneer when you’re halfway through picking up a little chocolate pastry. You glance up, to see a man with slicked back, bleached hair glowering at you, disturbing your little food paradise. Hm? He looks somewhat familiar.

“Who’re you?” you ask, plopping the first pastry on your plate, and grabbing a second pastry just to be safe. Maybe Reo will want one.

“You really don’t remember?” he hisses.

“Huh?”

“You stepped on my foot at a party!” he whispers furiously. 

“You were being rude,” you say tartly. That’s enough food. You try to step past him, but Takei jostles you with his shoulder, forcing you back in front of him. 

“You were just a server. How the hell did you get in here?”

What the hell? Did Takei think he’s all that, with his self-satisfied smirk and crossed arms?

“I’m on a date, actually,” you say pleasantly. “I was invited here.”

“Hah? Who would be crazy enough to invite you? If you’re lying, then I’m going to get you kicked out of here, just you–”

“Hi, Reo!” you say loudly, cutting Takei off, waving at Reo, who, with perfect timing, has shown up with two sparkling peach-colored drinks in hand.

“Hm? Takei-san, when did you get here?” Reo says.

“Ah– Mikage-san–” Takei’s face pales as he looks from you to Reo, and back to you. “Is… is this person… your date…?”

“Yes,” Reo says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. 

You bat your eyelashes at Takei, who looks like he wants to melt into the floor. For good measure, you turn to Reo with a fake little pout. “Reo, I think Takei-san was just saying something about only someone crazy would invite me here. How funny, don’t you think?”

“Very funny,” Reo says coolly. “But I think it’d be best not to make jokes like that about my date, don’t you think, Takei-san?”

“Right– of course– my apologies, Mikage-san,” Takei stammers. “I, ah, I would never think of… I won’t do it again.”

You pluck one of the pastries off your plate and offer it to Takei, who takes it with a twitching eye. “Enjoy the party, Takei-san,” you say in a syrupy sweet voice, watching as Takei stumbles off.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, you elbow Reo. “Nicely done, boyfriend,” you say.

“Takei has always been like that, but you shouldn’t have to put up with it,” Reo says. “Did he bother you?”

“Not too much!”

“I see.” Reo hands you a drink, but there’s a tiny frown twisting at the corners of his mouth as he watches Takei go.

There’s no more incidents after that, thankfully, but there’s a pensive look on Reo’s face that he can’t quite wipe off. What is he thinking? Should you ask? It’s not until the limo pulls up that Reo finally speaks to you.

“I’m sorry Takei was rude to you,” he says.

“It’s okay! It’s not your fault. Unless… you hired him to get on my nerves?” you tease, gravel crunching underfoot.

Reo looks uncharacteristically chagrined as he helps you into the car. “Why would I do that? Still, I put you in that situation, so… what can I do for you as an apology?”

You pretend to purse your lips in thought, tapping your finger against your chin. It’s cute how seriously he takes everything. “Well, Reo, have you ever heard of a little thing called grocery shopping?”

His eyebrows float upwards. “I’m not that out of touch. I do know what grocery shopping is. Do you think I was raised in an ivory tower?”

You grin. “Oh, we’ll see about that, Reo. Come pick me up on Saturday. 9am. Be sure to dress casually.”

—

Just as promised, Reo shows up outside your house at 9am sharp, dressed in a casual button up rolled up to his elbows and pressed slacks. He’s even smart enough to replace the usual limo with a more middle-class car, though it’s as sleek and polished as if it was bought fresh off the lot… which, now that you’re thinking about it, maybe it was. 

You snort as you size Reo up, flicking a glance up and down. You’re dressed much more casually, in shorts and flip-flops, and the tote bag you always bring to hold your groceries. “Slacks, Reo? Really?”

He holds up his hands in defense, a golden watch gleaming on his wrist. “What? You said dress casual. So I did.”

You roll your eyes, and when Reo opens the car door for you, you shut it. “That’s like business casual at best. You don’t have jeans? Sweats? You look like you’re taking a break from an office job.”

“Hey. I can’t help it if my standards are higher than other people.” Reo puts his hands in his pockets as you stride confidently down the pavement, and he falls into step beside you. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you grocery shopping,” you say expertly.

“... And you don’t want to drive there?”

“Most people do not drive the car to get groceries, rich boy. There’s a little thing called public transportation, you know. You’re going to learn to do it the old-fashioned pedestrian way.”

“Rich boy…” he mutters. “Can’t you just call me by my name? We are technically dating, you know?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Exactly. We’re technically dating, so I’m just giving you an affectionate nickname.”

At this, he laughs ruefully. “Affectionate, huh?”

Maybe you’ve been a little too mean to him. You are fond of Reo, even if he makes it a little too easy to tease him. At the next opportunity, you casually loop your arm around his. Reo falters, but doesn’t break step, before pulling you closer. He smells pleasant, a warm citrusy scent, and he’s careful to match his pace to yours so neither of you pull too far ahead or behind. 

Without turning to him, you say, “I am affectionate, you know. I know how to spoil my boyfriend.”

“Really, now? Looks like I lucked out by asking you out.” There’s a genuine warmth in Reo’s voice that spills a sunset in your chest. It’s almost like he really likes you, and you’re really dating— but the contract. Don’t forget. You can’t let yourself get too carried away. This is a business deal, nothing more. Also, he would be so obnoxious if he knew how much his words affected you, considering all the crap you said about him not being your type. Still, the traitorous glow in your heart doesn’t go away, no matter how much you try to clamp down and extinguish it.

The market is surprisingly crowded when the two of you arrive. You pick up a basket as Reo stands at the entrance, drinking in the rows of cardboard boxes and tin containers and fresh produce, the housewives strolling down the aisles with children in their carts, the scuffed floor and the gleaming lights.

“We don’t have all day,” you tease. “Come on, Reo. Are you scared?”

“I’m not. It’s just… different,” he says. His eyes are still roaming the store, and you loop your arm around his again. Reo lets you pull him along without stumbling a step.

“It’s better to experience it in person,” you affirm, dragging him to the vegetables. “Help me pick some out.”

Reo’s hands hover a row of brown yams, dirt still clinging to their fuzzy roots. He picks one up for you, and you place a hand on his wrist. “What? Is it not good enough?” he asks.

“You need to put them in a plastic bag first,” you say, pointing to a dispenser roll at the end of the aisle. “You can’t just put the vegetables in the basket!”

Reo sighs in a long suffering way, but leaves and returns with a plastic bag, which you shake open and he drops several yams in, after careful consideration of their size and form.

“Good job, Reo,” you cheer. 

“What can I say? I’m a natural,” he says smugly, and you bump him with your hip.

Reo follows you around the grocery store, shadowing your steps like a baby chick. You choose several more vegetables, before moving to the meat aisle and examining the frozen, plastic wrapped cuts. Reo peers over your shoulder as you point at the different cuts of meat, so close that you can feel his warmth despite the chill of the coolers, his breath brushing your cheek every time he talks.

“Which one do you want?” you ask. Normally, you wouldn’t find his closeness a big deal. You’re used to skinship with your friends and family, and Reo is your boyfriend, albeit in name only. But something about his presence makes you feel hyper-aware of his every move. Not that you could ever let him know that.

“What do you think is best?” he muses.

“You can choose,” you say.

“What about that one?” Reo points to a hunk of pork, and you drop it into your basket. 

“Sounds good,” you say, quickly moving away from the frozen meat, but the memory of Reo’s warmth isn’t as easy to shake off.

You skim through the aisles of dry goods, picking up items that you remember were running low in your kitchen pantry. Reo follows, and he pauses in front of a row of glass bottles.

“There are so many different brands of soy sauce,” he says. “The chef usually just gets the highest quality brand.”

“Show-off,” you say. 

“Hey! I’ll send you some, too!”

It’s not until you’re in front of the snacks that you stop, and spread your arms, as if presenting the rarest of delicacies. “All right, Reo. In exchange for your cooperation for today, you can choose one snack.”

“One snack,” he repeats.

“Yup! That’s what my mom used to say when we went grocery shopping. So I’m extending the honor to you. I’ll pay for anything you choose,” you emphasize. “So choose wisely!”

Reo’s hand skims over the row of snack boxes. “Which one would you recommend?”

“The chocolate mushrooms,” you say immediately. “I got them all the time as a kid, and my sister and I used to fight over who got to eat them, since our mom wouldn’t buy more than one box.”

Reo neatly slides out a yellow box with dancing chocolate mushrooms. “Then this is the one I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“My partner recommended them,” he says primly. “Why not?”

It’s only until you’ve paid for everything, stringing plastic bags alongside your arms (Reo valiantly offers to take a few after failing to persuade you to let him pay for the groceries with his card), that you can slide out Reo’s snack and proffer it to him.

“Thank you, my lovely assistant,” you say, “For braving the perils of the grocery store for me.”

“It was fun. I’ll come with you again, if you want.” He rips open the box, then offers it to you.

“What are you doing?”

“Take some.”

“But it’s your reward,” you protest.

Reo snorts, then shakes out a single chocolate mushroom onto his palm, pinching the biscuit stem between his forefinger and thumb, holding it in front of your mouth. “It’s my reward, so I can do whatever I want with it. And I want to give some to you.”

Without hesitation, you open your mouth, and Reo throws the mushroom in. A familiar chocolatey flavor spreads inside your mouth. Somehow, it tastes sweeter than it usually does.

—

Over the next few weeks, you and Reo settle into a comfortable rhythm. He comes to pick you up every evening, though your brother still has a habit of pressing his face to the living room window to ogle Reo’s various cars. Most of the time, your job at parties is just standing by Reo’s side, occasionally intercepting when someone asks him an uncomfortable question and pulling him away. People tend to ignore you, too, treating you as Reo’s tagalong– which, to be fair, you are. Still, any insults are soothed over by the delicious food you pile up high on your plate, though Reo will steal a bite or two if you’re not careful, despite you pestering him to grab his own plate.

Sometimes, you and Reo exchange glances out of the corner of your eye when someone says something particularly weird. It’s startling how fast you’ve learned to read him and pick up on every little change in his expression. He’s emotional and expressive, and though he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, his moods are still easy to read. He’s a little petty, sometimes, and he holds an assured view of his own success. But he’s easy to tease. You like him, a lot more than you want to admit.

However, one particular party in August shatters the routine you and Reo have set.

For one, this party is held in a mansion, a multitiered decadent cake of a building, with famous paintings and expensive statues dripping from every corner. Hell, the guest list is more famous than you’re used to: celebrity actors and prestigious families from old money, and bodyguards hovering at every angle. Even you can feel the oppressive atmosphere, as much as you try to joke it away.

“Be right back,” Reo says, sighing. He flicks his head at an old man trying to catch his gaze. “One of my father’s board associates.”

“Make sure to bring me a plate of food,” you tease.

“Right. Otherwise, you might go so hungry you’ll start nibbling on me.”

You glower at him, and Reo sticks out his tongue at you, before a professional expression rolls down his face, like a shutter slamming closed.

You don’t have much time to spend alone, though. Because just as Reo steps away, a couple draws closer to you, clad with matching crimson jewelry, and with a posture so uptight and rigid you wonder if they would topple to the floor if someone were to bump into them. It’s uncanny timing, as if they were waiting for Reo to leave, but you smile politely.

Neither attempt to smile back at you. The couple’s eyes gleam like the sheen of a shark’s. Ah. They’re looking for trouble. There’s nothing to protect you from their sharp toothed smiles and narrowed gazes. Reo has vanished out of sight, and no one else seems particularly interested in your predicament. 

“So, you’re Mikage-san’s date?” the woman asks politely. “How… quaint.”

“Yes,” the man butts in. “He rarely brings anyone to dinner with him, in all the time we’ve known him, and his parents.”

“My endless charm must have captivated him,” you joke, but the couple only raises their eyebrows.

“Hm. Well, it’s just strange that he would take a liking to… you,” the woman sniffs. “What family are you from?”

“I… My family? Well, I don’t think you would have heard of them.”

“I see,” the man says, with enough disdain that it shreds your bravado to pieces. “I’m not surprised you approached Mikage-san, then. Flies are always attracted to honey, eh? What I’m curious about is how on earth you managed to sink your hooks into him.”

“My hooks?” you say. “Well, no hooks were involved. We just hit it off, and–”

“No need to lie,” the woman intones. “It’s quite unbecoming, though I understand that people of your class can’t help themselves. No manners. No grace. To think Mikage-san would pass up an engagement with our child to chase after… you.”

“Ma’am, I think there must be some kind of mistake,” you begin, but then falter. They were still watching you with keen interest, and your chest tightens. They want you to slip up so they could twist whatever you say and humiliate you, like cats toying with a mouse. 

More than that, whatever you say could be used against Reo. What was their relationship with him? It sounds like they’ve known him for a long time. Were they people he couldn’t risk offending? These people aren’t like Takei, a bumbling man trying to suck up to people wealthier than him. You could snark back, consequences be damned, but what if that hurt Reo somehow?

“What mistake are we making?” the woman prompts. “Do tell me.”

You select your words delicately, like you’re stringing pearls along a necklace. “Mikage Reo is a wonderful person. He’s a partner far better than I deserve, and I know this. And he’s cleverer than you give him credit for. I don’t think he would fall for cheap tricks or flirtations. No matter who I am, or what you think of me, I would like it if you didn’t imply that Mikage Reo is any less than what he is.”

The couple pales suddenly. Did your speech have such an effect on them? But a hand lands on your shoulder, and Reo’s voice echoes from behind you. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I need to discuss something with my date.”

“Of course, Mikage-san,” the man stammers, all of his previous aggression gone. “By all means.”

There’s an uncharacteristically tight set to Reo’s jaw as he guides you to a balcony, arm pressed protectively around your waist. It’s not until there’s a layer of glass doors and gauzy curtains between you two and the rest of the party that he whirls around, eyes turbulent. His arm hasn’t moved an inch from your side.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he grits out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Oh, you know. I love when people are rude to me.”

“Stop joking around,” Reo says softly. “I’m serious, okay? You just– You could have said something! You’re my date. No one would… I could have said something. If you wanted me to.”

You let out a long sigh. Reo’s arm is still wrapped around your waist, and you impatiently shrug it off. Reo stares at the spot where his arm had once rested, as if not being able to touch you is the worst thing in the world. The fact that he’s sad for your sake– for you, his partner, his fake partner– makes you upset in ways you can’t begin to articulate. It was fine before. It was fun before, to mess around, to play in a world that isn’t really yours. Whatever you have isn’t real, so why does he act like it is? You even promised not to fall for each other. He was the one who suggested that clause.

“Are they people I can afford to offend?” you say tartly. “What sort of relationship do you have with them?”

“I would have covered anything you did–” Reo begins, but you shake your head.

“That isn’t the question. Are they people I could offend to afford? Are they people you need a good relationship with?”

Reo turns his head, and you have your answer. 

“I’m not playing the same game as you, Reo,” you say. “This is your world. I’m just a regular person, and I don’t have family or connections or wealth to protect me. All I have is you, and conversely, anything I do can be reflected back on you. If I act out, then they would use me as an excuse to talk badly about you. I didn’t… want that.”

“So it was because of me?” Reo whispers. “ That you had put up with all of that?”

“I didn’t do it just for you,” you say hastily, “So don’t feel bad, okay? I was also looking out for myself, too. Come on, Reo, don’t make that face–” But before you can crack a joke to lighten the atmosphere, Reo pulls you into his arms.

For a few seconds, all you’re aware of is his cologne, some sort of calm, gentle fragrance, and his arms pressed tightly around you, as if he could shelter you from the world by pulling you as close to his body as he could. His hands, resting assuredly on your back. His chin, dipping into the crook of your shoulder. “Wh– What are you trying to pull, Reo?” you squeak, all witty comebacks and jokes fleeing from your head at his touch.

Reo pulls back, just enough so you can see his face, but his hands are still on your shoulders. And– Reo, confident, clever, level-headed Reo– doesn’t look like a self-assured CEO heir or your usual partner in crime. He looks exhausted. Sad. In a way that someone as beautiful as Reo should never look. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. 

“Don’t apologize,” you say gently. You lightly tap his chest with your fist. “Come on. You didn’t do anything wrong. You weren’t the one who insulted me, right?”

“No, I am in the wrong,” Reo says, and before you can move your hand away, Reo cups his hand over your fist, keeping it trapped against his chest. “I thought I could protect you, but that wasn’t what happened. You were the one protecting me.”

“Don’t be so self-deprecating. You’ve helped me a lot,” you scold. “Mikage Reo, we’re partners.”

“Right. Right, partners. We’re partners.” His lips curve into a smile, like the first rays of dawn breaking over the horizon. Reo is so unfairly beautiful, and why does he look especially beautiful when he’s looking at you? 

This is dangerous territory. The world is shifting beneath your feet, and you don’t know if you’ll like where you’ll end up when it stops moving. You open your mouth and hastily add, “Because of the contract, you know? We made a promise.” 

“The contract. Off course. We did make an agreement,” Reo says, but the warmth in his smile has burnt out, and no longer reaches his eyes.

“Right.” You shiver, and without a word, Reo shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it across your shoulders. “Reo, you don’t have to…”

“It’s chilly during the summer,” Reo says simply. “I can’t have my… partner getting a cold. Let’s just call it a night.”

You crumple the silky fabric of his suit. It’s still warm from Reo’s body heat. “But the party–”

“Forget about it. You’ve already done your part. Just get some rest, okay? I’ll send you home.”

Reo ushers you through the party, warding off guests with a perfectly placed “my partner isn’t feeling well” and a pleasant smile– his business smile, nothing like the ones he shows you– and then you’re in Reo’s limousine. The two of you are silent on the way back. The streetlight flashes stripes of golden light across his face, but you still can’t tell what he’s thinking. For your part, outside of these quick glances at Reo, you stare out the window, at the lights of the city smearing across the glass.

When you stop by your house, it’s Reo who runs over to hold open your door and to offer you his hand as you step out. His hand lingers for a second longer than it has to before he pulls away.

“Have a good night,” Reo says.

“You, too. Wait, don’t you need your jacket back?” you ask, as Reo turns to go.

“No. You look nice in it. Just give it back to me next time.”

You open your mouth to make a joke about footing the bill, and how you don’t think you could afford the cleaning fees for his name brand clothing– but something in Reo’s gaze makes you bite your tongue. Instead, you wave. The last glance you have of Reo is of his silhouette, leaning against the car door, carefully watching you enter your house before he gets into his car and drives away.

—

For the next week, you keep staring at your phone, waiting for it to buzz. But there’s nothing but radio silence from Reo.

You’ve never felt more restless. Why hasn’t he called you? What do you do? Should you contact him first? Was he mad at you? He was definitely mad at you. You hurt him somehow, with your big mouth. But what were you to each other, really? Strangers? Not really. Friends, maybe. A couple? Definitely not. Somehow, your relationship has slipped out of the neat boundaries you’ve set at the beginning of the summer. It’s uncontainable, something formless and vague, neat labels sliding neatly off of it. 

This was supposed to be a relationship of convenience, just a summer fling at most. Two strangers, helping each other out. There was a clear expiration date. Did you have any right to push him? To call him? To mend this? 

You just wanted to have fun. Fun wasn’t supposed to come back and bite you in the ass like this. Fun wasn’t supposed to lead to either of you getting hurt. Fun wasn’t supposed to be Reo looking at you like that, like he… cared about you, more than he had to. It was supposed to be easy. Why wasn’t it easy?

He was the one who said that you weren’t his type. To be fair, he wasn’t really your type either. He wasn’t, but… his smile. His teasing words. His hug, tight and desperate, as if he never wanted to let you go. You said you weren’t going to fall for each other. You weren’t supposed to. You aren’t supposed to like him, not in this way. It was even in the stupid contract.

You pace around the living room, thoughts spiraling unendingly in your head, wearing a hole in the carpet as your siblings stare at you, unimpressed. 

“Can you stop? I’m getting dizzy,” your brother complains.

Your sister slaps him on the arm. “Stop it. Their boy toy ghosted them, so now they’re sad. Let them mourn.”

“Eh? How’s that my business? Just call him, dork,” your brother commands. “Or show up at his house with flowers or something. Just stop moping.”

“You are so tactless. What the hell is–”

You skirt out of the living room, your siblings’ voices trailing behind you as they bicker. It’s not as if Reo needs to text you. It’s not a big deal. He could just be busy. It’s not as if you’re really his partner or something. You’re just– some person he hired for the summer. That’s all your relationship is. You can’t get disappointed now, not when you drew the line in the sand first.

You sigh, falling into a crouch, staring morosely at your phone screen– before it lights up with an incoming call, and you press answer so fast there’s no time for the ringtone to go off.

“Reo?” you breathe. 

“Hi.”

“I thought you were dead! Why didn’t you call me? Or text? I mean, I know you’re busy as a corporate heir, but–”

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “Are you free right now?”

“Yes? Why?”

“Can you come outside?”

“Uh, yeah. But why didn’t you just text me if you were coming to visit?”

“I wanted to hear your voice.” A pause. “Just forget I said that, okay? See you soon.”

Your heart pounds as you stare at the disconnected call, before you dash up the stairs to check your appearance in the mirror and maybe change to a cuter outfit. A few seconds later, you’re out the door, shoes still half on, and sprinting right into Reo, his car pulled right up to the curb.

“What’s up? Is there a party you want to talk about?” you say, breathless.

Reo opens his mouth, closes it, and then fumbles for the handle of the car door. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” he says, avoiding your eyes.

“Sure,” you say easily. You can sense more than see your brother and sister pressing nosily against the window. No doubt they’d pester you about what was going on when you got home.

The car ride is tense. Reo doesn’t talk to you, and instead stares outside the window the whole time. Is he steeling himself up for something? He glances at you occasionally, then glances away. You circle the same block twice before you impatiently ask the driver to simply drop you off at a random street. 

The heat is like a heavy blanket over the city, the perfect embodiment of summer. Somehow, you end up in a nice little plaza. There’s a fountain gurgling behind you, and children playing in the shade under the trees. People stream by, and it’s only you and Reo who are frozen in place.

“What is it that you called me for?” you say. 

“What?”

“You have something to say, right?”

Reo looks uneasily out at the sea of people under the blistering sun. “Let’s end our contract,” he says quietly.

You must have misheard. The heat is warping the air in front of your eyes. “Why? There’s still a few weeks left, right?”

“I’m terminating it early.”

“You can’t decide that on your own,” you say indignantly, but your hands are clammy. Your voice comes out reedy and thin, even to your own ears. 

“It was going to end eventually. Ending it a few weeks early is no big deal,” he says curtly.

“Why now, though? Is it because of what happened at the last party?” you break in. “That’s no big deal. I can handle people like that.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he snaps.

“Huh?”

Reo runs a hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t have to put up with people like that.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do,” he says. “I don’t like– I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“But–!”

“And you’re just doing this for fun, right? It’s not like you have to go with me. If it stops being fun… if it starts making more trouble for you than what it’s worth… you should just leave. It’s like you said,” he says. “This is a contractual relationship.”

What can you say? You and Reo are just… what, exactly? Strangers in a business relationship? Friends, who only came together out of a twisted coincidence? He wasn’t your real boyfriend. You were just acting in a play, and at some point, the curtains had to fall.

“I won’t bother you with something like this again. Just… consider our agreement over, okay? You don’t have to pretend to be my partner anymore.”

He turns, and overwhelming desperation seizes you. If you let him go now, something will change forever, and you’ll never see him again. You’re certain of it. Reo is doing this out of consideration for you. It’s a kindness on his part, but you hate it. You hate it so much you can barely breathe. 

“Wait!” He stops. All you can see is his back. What can you say? What sort of joke, or clever remark? What easy thing can repair your relationship? Nothing comes to mind. There’s nothing left, nothing but the truth.  “I… I like being with you, Reo. I know I said I want to do whatever is fun, but… the most fun I’ve ever had is by your side. So don’t just… don’t just say it’s over. Was it not fun for you?”

You take a step closer towards him. He doesn’t back away. Another step. All you can hear is the gurgling of the fountain now, and all you can see is Reo. Reo, as beautiful as the sun.

His ears are red. Reo finally turns towards you, averting his gaze from yours, his hand covering his mouth.  “Of course I like being with you. I just can’t be your fake boyfriend. I can’t do that anymore. I’ve already broken the contract. I… About you, I…”

Call it fate, or a coincidence. But at that moment, a passerby bumps into you, causing you to stumble. You yelp, your knees hitting the edge of the fountain, and Reo, alarmed, tries to grab you– you only manage to grasp his arm before you tumble over. Reo goes down with you. A wave of water splashes over the fountain as you flail, you and Reo fumbling for purchase. The two of you end up more soaked with every attempt to straighten yourselves, and it’s all just so ridiculous. 

Laughter bubbles up out of you, and you can’t stop, even though everyone is staring at the two of you. You’re drenched, water streaming down your face, dripping from your clothes. Maybe this is what your hoodie feels like when you run it through the washing machine.

Reo lies beneath you in a pool of fountain water, your arms on either side of his torso. You’re sheltered in the circle of his open legs. His hair is plastered to his face, his expensive cotton shirt clinging to his body, and you carefully tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, but it’s all in vain.

“I can’t believe this,” you snicker. “Imagine the headlines. Mikage heir, found diving in a Tokyo fountain!”

“Oh, shut it,” he mutters, but you only laugh harder.

Suddenly, his hand cups your face, a tentative gesture. His thumb is so close to your lips. If he moves an inch, he’d brush them. Your laugh quiets. “What’s wrong, Reo?” you say, but your heart is pounding like a flock of birds lifting up in flight.

“You’re beautiful,” he says simply, as if it’s the only truth in the world. “Tell me if you don’t want this.” He’s face to face with you now, and you’re acutely aware of the way his gaze lingers on your lips. “Tell me if you don’t want me. Push me away right now.”

Oh, to hell with it. You lean forward and crash your lips onto his, urgently gripping his face with both your hands. It’s a terrible first kiss. There’s the taste of rusty water, and he’s slack at first, awkward, as you try to move against his lips. But then Reo circles his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, and now he’s kissing you back. He breaks apart only to connect again, desperate as if this is his one and only chance. Like stars colliding, all you can think of is this. Of him. Of the summer heat, lingering even when you part.

“Reo. I like you,” you say, simply. “I want to date you. For real, this time. No contracts, or anything. Even though I’m not your type, apparently.”

He rests his forehead against yours. “Forget about my type, or the contract. I don’t care anymore. I like you, too. I’ve liked you for a while now.”

“If you liked me, then why did you ignore me for a week?” you say indignantly.

“I was… I was nervous, okay? I mean, you shouldn’t have said our relationship was just a contract! I thought you didn’t like me!”

“Sorry, sorry. Both of us messed up, huh?” you ask. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

“Yeah, I can think of a few ways,” Reo mumbles.

He leans forward to kiss you again, and– “Hey! What are you kids doing in that fountain?! That’s public property!” A policeman yells.

Oh, shit. You totally forgot you were still in public, in the middle of a fountain. But there’s no time to think. Reo grabs your hand, and the two of you scramble up, splashing water everywhere as you jump out of the fountain and run down the streets. Everyone is staring at you, but who cares? Summer is almost over, and you deserve to have some fun with your boyfriend.

#liya writes #blue lock #mikage reo #reo mikage #blue lock x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #blue lock reo #bllk #x reader #bllk x reader #3rd entry for my bllk seasonal shoujo fic!! #longest one ive ever posted. reo im going to kill u for making me write so much

[hmslusitania]

Unified theory of Indiana Jones and The Mummy? My interest has been piqued 🍿 👀

Okay so I think it goes without saying that these movies clearly take place in the same universe, just off the bat.

That said, we also know that several of the (unseen) previous generation of characters had careers that would've taken them to similar geographic areas -- notably Howard Carnahan and Abner Ravenwood, who were Egyptologists of roughly a similar age.

So, it would make complete sense to me if, at some point, they were contracted to work on the same project. Whether or not they got along, whether or not they worked well together, is immaterial. The important part is that they both brought their daughters. Now, according to the wikis for the respective franchises, Evelyn (Carnahan) O'Connell was born in 1903, and Marion Ravenwood was born in 1909, and young girls, as Marion would've been, tend to heavily imprint on older girls especially when they're stuck together in a camping situation. And I think Evy, a perpetual baby sister, would've jumped at the chance to get to be the cool older sister type friend.

They would've corresponded after that.

In 1925, Marion writes to Evy about her father's dashing new student who she's fallen hopelessly in love with (and an equally passionate disavowal of the man only a few months later).

In 1926, Evy writes back to tell Marion that she's been part of an expedition to help recover the site of Hamunaptra (leaving out the magic, because that would be just a shade too far; adding the fact she may not have found much treasure but she did find a husband in the post script -- prompting many more questions from Marion).

They write each other about Evy's journey to respectability as an archaeologist and Egyptologist, and her impassioned arguments with another young archaeologist out of the University of Chicago, who Evy pointedly refused to name in any of her letters out of disrespect (the nature of their academic disagreements is simple -- Evy's seen magic with her own eyes and brings a layer of credulity to her interpretation of sites that Indy just cannot fathom. Well. Not yet, anyway).

They write when Alex was born, when Marion moves to Nepal.

In 1933, Evy writes her about the Oasis at Ahm Shere, but she leaves out the part where she died and was resurrected, and the part where the entire oasis was sucked into the afterlife afterwards.

(In 1935, Indy sees Magic in India, and he thinks briefly of his continuing journal publication feud with the British-Egyptian Egyptologist E. O'Connell, and then he locks this information away in a part of his brain he does not touch lest he go mad.)

In 1936, Marion writes her about the search for the Ark, about her father's old student -- a professor now himself -- coming back into her life. She mentions the pit of snakes, being entombed, and the deaths of the Nazi bastards. She doesn't mention the magic, the actual Ark of the Covenant saving their asses. It would sound crazy, after all.

In 1937, they see each other in person for the first time in over a decade by chance at the Cairo Museum. This is before the events of the Last Crusade, so for the moment, Marion and Indy are more-or-less together and more-or-less happy about it. Rick and Evy are there for their standard work reasons, delivering some recently excavated artefacts.

At first, everything goes fine. Evy and Marion recognise each other, and as nearly life-long penpals tend to do, take a moment to remember how to speak to each other in person, but then they're thrilled for the opportunity to do so. The four of them agree to get dinner together and it's at dinner while they're talking about their work that Indy makes the connection between E. O'Connell, academic rival, and Evelyn O'Connell, and Evy makes the connection that Marion's "Indy" is actually that very same Henry Jones Jr who Evy's wanted nothing more than to knock senseless with the Book of Life for over a decade.

In the ensuing loud argument that nearly gets them thrown from the restaurant and during which Rick and Marion decide they're best friends now, both Evy and Indy accidentally reveal their hands as regards magic, archaeology, and the realities therein. They part dinner as wary allies.

The academic detente lasts just until Marion writes Evy about the dissolution of her relationship with Indy and concurrent birth of their son, and then the rivalry's back on.

Frankly, all of them prefer it this way.

(As an additional aside, while he was serving in WWI, Jonathan Carnahan met and befriended {""befriended""} an Australian nurse, who had the mixed fortune to lose all of her father's titled cousins during the war and returned home as the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher)

#the ghost ship scribbles #indiana jones #the mummy #wilddragonflying #with the exception of checking birth years in the respective wikis #this is all just off the cuff #so if there's incorrect continuity don't @ me

[14dayswithyou]

DISCLAIMER: This is for all my 14DWY Fans who are sleeping on just how dangerous Ren is. LOL

I think it’s so funny how we all simp and are COMPLETELY whipped by ren.

He’a so cute, hot and has the sexiest habits. We’re in love right? We know he’d never hurt us and he’ll go to different lengths to please us.

He would steal thousands of dollars and give it to us, buy us whatever we wanted.

But then BOOM. It clicks for me that after seeing Sigh talk about how that’s the point and how he’s actually like dark web red room murder bad—it dawns on me that yeah…that IS the point.

 I love to pick apart character studies and try to really understand the character. And Ren is just a great case.

We are literally getting PLAYED. He calculated every last little detail. He knows the type of men we like, and literally altered his personality to be like that. We joke about his Haruko personality and how submissive and cute it is but I don’t think we realize enough that he did that JUST so we would feel easy around him and fall in love. And we did. We literally played right into his hand.

Some of us know, some of us don’t care and some of us don’t REALLY understand just how far ren has Gone.

He’s dedicated his ENTIRE life to you (since elementary) just because you made a promise to marry him when you were like 9. Then here we are 20 or older and he’s still infatuated.

He has mentally diluted hisself into thinking that you are the only person that he could possibly fall in love with. He has been obsessed you for over a decade ( or decades).

Another thing people aren’t really paying attention to is that Ren, can—will and most likely HAS murdered. we can’t forget this. Ren doesn’t mentally have the capacity to care about anyone except for the MC. If he needed to kill a homeless man, skin him alive and sell him for cash or something he would do it.

Ren is so cute and a pink sub hottie ➡️ Ren is an darker styled man who is a murderer and will dominate you.

Ren loves and cherishes MC ➡️ Ren is probably clinically delusional and has fantasized taking you all for himself because of a promise you made as a child.

Ren is so Strong ➡️ Ren has worked out solely to make sure he’d win and successfully murder his opponent in an altercation should the time come. He’s not necessarily muscularly sound for you.

Ren is so protective and always worried about MC ➡️ Ren is stalking you in the comfort of your own home. He is constantly watching you and sneaking in your apartment. You have zero privacy 24/7. He will kill anyone that finds out or is potentially romantically attracted to you. (I.e your childhood best friend or your mother that you love could all be brutally murdered if they were in Rens way.)

He’s hot and you’d love a man that’d “kill for you” until you realize that he’d kill your family, friends and anyone who even gets in his way. (What about their kids? Brothers? Or sisters? Someone is probably grieving over that person that Ren killed.)

Is it sinking in now? How are you going to feel when you cant have a life and have to tip toe around your lover because he will murder anyone that isn’t him or you. Ren is a psychotic, depressed, sociopath who is obsessed with you. He’s not just a Yandere. He’s…. a threat.

Don’t sleep on ren. 👁👁

✦゜ANSWERED: *louder than everyone else* THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The way you perceive Ren is so hot!!!! *chefs kiss*!!!!!! Shiro I love your mind!!!!!!!! This is literally how I've wanted Ren to be perceived as a yandere, and I'm honestly amazed at how spot on you got! >.< Like? [REDACTED] puts in all this effort to seem like your dream guy/ideal boyfriend — when in reality — he's hiding things that are far too sinister and disturbing to be described.

He has zero apathy for anyone other than the subject of his obsession, and he's not averse to doing unspeakably morbid and/or morally dubious things in order to get what he wants. And if he wants you, then there's nothing that can stand in his way.

He's desperate and willing enough to alter everything about himself in order to gain your affections, and he's more than capable of keeping up the facade if it means having you all to himself. He's been doing it for ten years already, so what's ten more?

He feels nothing when he murders and tortures people, nor does he cringe at the sight of blood and gore. At most, he might find it troublesome with how long it takes to drain the life out of someone, or if the blood gets all over his clothes — but when it comes to the wellbeing of his victims, nothing matters to him.

He knows his way around a fight and can deal devastating blows with a sledgehammer — but he can deal just as much damage from the comfort of his own home so long as he has a phone or a laptop at hand. Nothing is safe from his keen eyes, and it'd be a mistake to brush aside his hacking abilities.

Ren/[REDACTED] not some timid, pushover yandere who "probably doesn't know how to defend himself"; he's a deeply disturbed individual with an innate desire to get what he wants — no matter how gruesome or time-consuming it may be.

#i am kissing you gently (with consent)!!!!!!!! #thank you so much for writing this; i'm genuinely impressed! #i'd say so much more here but i should probably go to sleep hjsjgdjs #💌 — answered. #💖 — about ren. #ren introspection tag pending #queued post #to be tagged later

[dangermousie]

Do you like triumph of evil in your kdramas? A small rec list for the pessimist in you

If, like me, you got into kdramas way back when or like older kdramas, tragic endings are not a particular surprise - endings where one or both members of the OTP die were pretty common and even unsettling endings that remind you of the world being rather unjust (Bad Guys) also happen.

But I am talking about something more than that - an ending that really socks it to you, by making you feel the villains won, it was all in vain. I confess when well-done, I love the bleakness of that type of ending. So here are my five favorites for this sort of thing:

Hong Gil Dong (2008)

This story of a rebel fighting to overthrow the mad tyrant and bring justice to the people has the most thoroughly bad ending on the list. Who dies? EVERYONE EXCEPT THE BAD GUYS! I don't mean the OTP, I don't mean your fave secondaries, I mean everyone. The sheer realistic bleakness of the ending is breath-taking. Gil Dong, his OTP Yi Nok and the rest of the rebels are murdered by the forces of the king they put on the throne. The last shot of the story proper is them standing watching a shower of arrows coming towards them, staring at their death. The only survivors are the King and the secondary girl and both are monsters. The king is the man they put on the throne with so much effort but who cannot allow them to live because what they want is not to replace a bad absolute ruler with a different one (that he may have coped with) but to replace the system itself - to hold the king accountable, and he cannot have that. In the end, a mad tyrant has been replaced with a sane tyrant and the class system and the injustices of that society that wrecked Hil Dong, Yi Nok and the rest continue unabated. And secondary girl betrays Gil Dong because - for all her sort of crush - she never truly saw him as human, just a fancy peasant toy that should be thrown away and punished for not behaving as he ought. In the end, the good guys, the heroes, who fought so hard are killed and it's not easy acceptance for them either (there is a scene where Gil Dong, knowing they are all dead once spring comes, admits to Yi Nok how terrified of death he is that has haunted me for a decade plus) and the monsters continue on happily. Sure, the people recite stories and new fighters will rise in their place but it's very much of a "no happy ending in our lifetime" message.

At the time this drama came out, the Hong Sisters were known for their romcoms and this started out pretty goofy - watching it live as it got darker and darker was a hell of a trip and the ending made the fandom insane. But the more I thought about it, the more I loved it, the more fitting it seemed. I love all the other takes on rebels against the crown a la various other HGD and Iljimae adaptations but this one has, to me, by far the most fitting ending.

IRIS (2009)

Talk about bleak. This drama starts as your standard if high quality actioner about competent glam agents of a secret CIA type agency. And then it all goes to hell in a handbasket for our mains as it turns out a secret evil organization is the one that's pulling the strings, and our protagonist Kim Hyun Jun (played by Lee Byung Hun in my favorite of all of his performances) is sacrificed for complicated reasons that are only gradually revealed and begins his descent into hell. He starts the story as a competent, cocky sweetheart and transforms into a PTSDing shaking hands wreck. And you watch him fight so hard - fight through all the torments inflicted, fight to protect his loved ones and to keep his sanity, and fight to take the evil org down. You watch him slowly rebuild himself, and to slowly find happiness again with the woman he's loved all this time, Choi Seung Hee (played by Kim Tae Hee in my fave of her performances, who has unknowing ties to the org) and to fight over the org and inflict damage on it.

And then we get that ending, as he's finally found some peace and safety, and he's driving to propose to Seung Hee and as he sees her, he's shot in the head, point blank and he lies there, dying, seeing her but not able to reach her, tears falling out of his eyes as she waits oblivious for a man who will never come and it's made so clear that the org goes on, that nothing has been defeated and that it has all been for nothing - he's been killed as a punishment to him but also as a message to Seung Hee that nobody ever escapes - for her to find his body and realize it was all for naught. And it is also made clear that there was NOTHING he could have ever done to avoid this fate except if his parents made different choices before he was born (!!!) Talk about bleak. I sobbed for hours.

Ja Myung Go (2009)

I've just posted about this one so I am not gonna re-do the comments but yeah, it ends with the OTP death, the kingdom destroyed and the one winner is King Daemushin, the bad guy. The God of Battles wins again. Sure he lost a son but he's got other sons. Worth it, would think the old monster.

My Country: the New Age (2019)

The rest of the dramas on this list are older. This one is not. Our two main protagonists die in the end but that is not what makes it so bleak - what makes it so bleak is that nothing of what they wanted came to pass. In a way, it's a bit of a Hong Gil Dong redux situation - there is a new ruler on the throne but he's not any better than the old ones and he's cleaning up the people who put him on the throne. Hwi especially fought so hard for a place and then just to have some peace and he gets neither, the man he fought so hard to put on the throne being his murderer.

What Happened in Bali (2004)

Ooof, this drama! We have four main characters and at the end, two of them are dead, shot by the third one who turns the gun on himself. The only survivor is the ice cold secondary girl who would probably not pause sipping her morning coffee when hearing the news.

This is a story of people damaged and ruined by a bunch of monsters who suppress any hope and anything good and cause more and more damage - we watch the three mains claw at others and at themselves hoping for happiness and connection and love and it all gets dismantled and set on fire repeatedly and in the worst way. It's perhaps the starkest with Jo In Sung's Jung Jae Min - who you watch taken apart and driven to extremity slowly and gradually over the course of the drama. And his monstrous family ends up triumphant at the end - even in death and murder he was not monstrous enough for them to fit in - and now they will continue their lives.

PS The scene where he shoots Ha Ji Won's character right as she's just finishes telling So Ji Sub she loves JIS and wants to go back to him and she tells him "I love you" for the first time ever as she lies dying - that lives in my head rent free forever.

#kdrama #my country: the new age #what happened in bali #something happened in bali #hong gil dong #ja myung go #iris

[tragedyslayer]

Neteyam x female reader! Part 1

In a universe where Spider has an older sister who happens to be on the wrong side.

Neteyam x female reader

Part 2

Characters are both 18

Warning I will use as vague descriptions as I can, however I expect throughout this fic there will be some specific mentions of hair length, body type, height, etc.

I'm new to writing fanfiction so I hope I don't write this horribly. Spider having a sister completely throws off the original plot of the movie so FYI I intend on straying pretty far from the movie as far as the story line goes. If anyone has recommendations for things to include in this fic I would absolutely love to hear them. This will be a slowwwww burn, or at least thats how i'm planning it. I hope at least one person can enjoy this lol, so enjoy!

It was time, The day I would return to the planet I was born on. The day I would return to my brother, my father, my planet. Only it was not a day to celebrate, because I was only returning to destroy it all. 

The inside of my cheek was raw, all I could do was gnaw on my own flesh as I waited for my father to be reborn into his new body. I wish I could say I missed him, but it was quite the opposite. He was the last person in the galaxy I wished would have the opportunity to live twice. He died when I was young, I grew into my own without his help. It was a weird feeling to suddenly have a father again. I wanted something to go wrong, maybe who he was before would be lost and he could start fresh. Perhaps our ship would depressurize and we would all die instantly, unfortunately all the hoping and wishing in the world could not prevent the inevitable.

I raised my head at the commotion taking place in the room behind me. He was awake, freaking out at the sudden transition from not existing in any form to now being an avatar. I sighed, glancing backwards, and sure enough, it was my father.

Two days had gone by since we landed back on Pandora, my father was spending his time catching up on everything he had missed over the past 15 years. While I spent my time doing less productive things. My entire life I was trained to be a soldier, to follow in my fathers footsteps. Though I always felt like I was fighting a war that wasn't mine.

 I was fortunate enough to also receive my very own avatar, however I wasnt willing to commit suicide in order to be Na’vi permanently. Besides, I always believed that it isn't right to claim a race that isnt my own. The Na’vi people were spiritual, sacred. I may not be able to stop the human race from colonizing their culture, but I could at least not take part. Well not any more than I was forced to.

My thoughts were cut short by a commanding voice through my door.

“Soldier, it's time.” I thought it was funny that my father refused to call me anything but soldier since he's been back. I suppose he missed out on too much to still recognize me as his little girl. I didn't feel a need to respond as I got off my bed, if you could even call it that, opening the door. “Yes sir”

I followed my dad and his team through the forest of Pandora. I had been in my avatar before, countless times actually. It was good for me to train in the same body as the enemy, so I could have even a chance to best them. But nothing could have ever prepared me for the feeling of being Na’vi in the thick of Pandora. In my avatar from all my senses were heightened, and all my physical abilities were multiplied, but getting to use this body in the environment it was originally adapted for is like nothing else I've ever experienced. 

I watched from a distance as my squad poked and prodded at my dads final resting place. Funnily enough I remember coming here as a kid, Grace and Jake, I was so young. Now I was meant to kill my childhood companions on sight if given the opportunity. I truly can't understand my dads thirst for murdering Jake Sully and everything he loves. You would think he'd learn to let things go after two decades, but I never knew him to be the forgiving type.

A twig snapped. It was far, but not out of reach for my heightened blue ears. Something about the sound forbade me to let it go. It was so slight and quick that it could have been a hundred different things. Though my heart was telling me something far different.

While the rest of my squad was still distracted, and my father was still caught up examining his own corpse I slipped through the tree line. I was thankful for my experience with the avatar, navigating quickly, and silently through the foliage was much easier for me than any of the other avatars team human still had.

I stopped as soon as I saw them. It was a group of kids, besides one that seemed to be closer to my age, and a human boy. My throat dried as I watched them. My baby brother, it had to be him. “Miles” I whispered to myself. Next my eyes focused on a toddler she looked to be no more than 7. These kids had no idea what the hell they were getting themselves into. How naive could they be, a pit in my stomach grew at the thought of my father finding them.

The anxiety I felt for my brother and his friends swelled in my chest as I looked back over to the abandoned shuttle to see if anyone had noticed my disappearance. I let out a shaky breath in relief seeing that none of their positions had changed. I turned my head towards the Na’vi children, seeing that the eldest had disappeared from the group. My ears lifted as I raised my guard. It could have been in my head, but I didn't feel unseen anymore.

“Take the bow off your back and throw it to the ground.”

My head shot in the direction of the voice. It was the older Na’vi boy. I almost wanted to smile, no one has ever been able to sneak up on me before. These warriors were nothing like American soldiers, the reality of that has only just set in. I raised my hands in submission looking the man in the eyes. I examined his body, he was holding a knife out to me but he wasn't in striking distance. 

“I don't want to hurt anybody.”

 I admitted reaching for the bow on my back. The boy narrowed his eyes at me, obviously not having it. I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, realizing that no one in their right mind would want to hear out a human.

 “Listen, if I wanted to I could draw an arrow before you would even realize I'm doing it, but I'm not.”

 I whispered slowly, taking the bow off my back. My reasoning only seemed to agitate the boy as he gripped his knife harder. I internally scolded myself for not being better with words, even when pleading for my life I seemed arrogant. 

Both of our attention was drawn away from the stand off at hand. My squad was currently capturing my brother's friends. The boy took no time to dart towards their direction, I grabbed him by the arm, pushing him behind a tree out of any wandering eye's line of sight. He glared at me, opening his mouth in protest and confusion. I muffled him with the palm of my hand, looking into his eyes. I gave him a pleading look, wordlessly begging him to trust me a second longer. His hard gaze softened and for a moment I felt a mutual understanding with him.

“I can help you”

 My voice was almost silent as I pulled my hand down from his mouth. I glanced over his shoulder to find my squad walking the Na’vi group towards the abandoned ruins. 

“Follow me”

 I picked up my bow off the ground and dashed toward the two groups. My stride came to an abrupt stop as my arm was tugged. I glared at the culprit, 

“what the hell are you-” 

“Listen”

The boy cut me off and I closed my mouth. I heard bird-like sounds in the distance, they were almost indistinguishable to the natural noises of the forest. I doubt I would have noticed them if they had not been pointed out.

I gave the boy a questioning look, hoping for some kind of explanation.

“We have to go”

He urged, turning to the other direction. I was still confused, and wanted to ask this boy a million questions, but I settled on following him blindly. Some feeling deep in my gut possessed me to stay close behind him. It may have gone against all the training I've ever done, but I trusted this Na’vi boy more than I trusted my father. I turned my head backward as we fled, wanting another look at both my father and brother together. I heard the whistle of an arrow cut through the air before it shot a man from my squad in the heart. The precision and distance was bone chilling, I was thankful the boy allowed me to come with him or else I could have suffered a similar fate.

After a short while of running through the forest we came to a clearing and he slowed, I stopped behind him. I took a moment to take in our surroundings. The forest canopy opened above us allowing gabs of sunlight through the clearing. I had never seen anything so breathtaking. Everything was so still, but I could feel the surge of life all around me. I looked back to the boy who was already staring back at me. 

“Why did you save me”

I questioned, If I was in his position I can't say I would have done the same. 

“You said you would help.”

I pressed my lips together, sliding my bow behind my back. 

“I meant I would help you and your friends not get killed, but it seems you didn't need my help.”

The boy shook his head, taking a step closer to me. He had a confident presence, but it didn't feel threatening.

“We do need your help.”

My face contorted in skepticism. Why would he want my help, why would he trust me so easily. Everything about the situation I found myself in was hard to wrap my head around.

“How could I possibly help you?”

He took in a frustrated breath, running his hand over his braided hair.

“You're a sky person mm? But you offered to help me. To help us. You aren't like them.”

I shook my head,

“You shouldn't assume things”

He continued,”I am not assuming. I know.” 

I mumbled in response “Skxawng (stupid)” 

His eyebrows raised in surprise after hearing a foreigner speak his native tongue. I didn't know what to do, it was unrealistic for me to agree to help him, before long they would figure out where I was and who I was with. It would be Jake Sully's betrayal all over again. And yet I found myself wanting to agree.

I gasped looking back from the direction we came from. 

“Miles” I whispered looking back to the Na’vi man, continuing before he could question what I was saying.

“The boy, the human boy. Who is he?” 

I urged, to think he had been here all this time. Living amongst the enemy, all he knew was this foreign world.

“Spider? He's our friend, our brother.”

I shook my head, impatiently continuing my interrogation. 

“But where did he come from?”

The boy looked at me with furrowed brows, making a shrugging gesture as he spoke,

“He is the old military commander's son, when he died Spider had nowhere else to go.”

I covered my mouth in shock. I was so sure it was him but hearing it confirmed, it made it so real.I really saw my brother, and he really lived a happy life here on Pandora. He really had a family, and I really wasn't a part of it.

#neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x oc #neteyam fluff #sully family #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you

[booksandwords]

The Storyteller: Tales of Life and Music by Dave Grohl

Read time: 2 Days Rating: 3/5 Stars

The Quote: Though Kurt and Jimmy were not "family," I invited them to be, and that invitation can sometimes be even more intimate than the connection to any blood relative. There was no biological obligation here; we were bonded for other reasons: our parallel spirits, our love of music, and our musical appreciation. You cannot choose family, and when you lose family, there is a biological imperative that implies a built-in type of mourning. But with friends, you design your own relationship, which in turn designs your grief, which can be felt even deeper when they are gone. Those can be roots that are much harder to pull. — (p.187)

Warnings: Drug use, references to death. Neither are particularly graphic and the drug of note is weed.

Rather than writing The Storyteller as a linear timeline of his life Dave Grohl has written this as a series of short stories I guess tied together by theme. It is a good writing style to use allowing for events impacting each other over time to be discussed together. Such as the chapter He's Dead which discusses the deaths of two influential men in Dave's life, Kurt Cobain and Jimmy Swanson despite them happening over a decade apart. Others such as Bedtime Stories with Joan Jett tell the story of a limited event in this case introducing Violet and Harper to Joan Jett, at first her as an inspiration than her in person. It does glance over some of the more darker/ negative moments in Grohl's life but I'm okay with that if I'm honest. There is nothing but love from him when it comes to the 5 most important women in his life, his Mother Virginia Grohl, his wife Jordyn Blum and his daughters Violet, Harper and Ophelia Grohl these are also the women to whom the book is dedicated. You can feel Dave's love for his mother on the page to the point where she is the last person he talks about, to in the epilogue.

Changing my review style for this one a bit, something that I will think about doing for biographies in the future too. It is my opinion that it is not the place of readers to judge the experiences of an individual it is our place to read and enjoy their presentation to us. So I've decided to make this review a series of dot points moments that made me laugh, quotes I want to comment on or just note-worthy things. • In a way similar to Kimi Raikonnon's biography Dave Grohl's first wife, Jennifer Youngblood, isn't mentioned. The only time he comes close is in referring to their 1997 divorce in relation to another event. More surprising is his not referring to his older sister, Lisa, by name at all. Though I know nothing of their relationship.

• The man and his injuries... the ones he talked about floored me. One of them is the infamous "I think I just broke my leg" moment from a concert in Ullevi Gothenburg. It is just one of the moments you see exactly how much he will do for his fans. There is an interview with Dave Grohl, Taylor Hawkins and Johan Sampson from Sweedish tv filmed in 2017 that just made me laugh. Another of the injuries tells you exactly how much Virginia Grohl went through, Dave describes being hit so hard in the head (accidentally) by a golf club that he split his skull open.

• Having no true musical training, I didn't refer to the sound as "notes on paper; it became shapes that I could see in my head as I listened intently to the multiple layers of instruments. Like colorful building blocks stacked upon each other, music became something I could "see," a neurological condition known as synesthesia, where one sense is activated (hearing) and another unrelated sense (vision) is activated at the same time. — I like this description of synesthesia, it is accessible not all of the ones I've seen are. He explains later it as seeing LEGO bricks, each part of a song is a LEGO brick that needs to be clicked into place. (p.65)

• or hiding small chunks of hash in Skeeter's dreadlocks so that we'd all have something to smoke on the long drives between shows (nothing like watching our bassist play with the drug dog on the border, knowing full well that his tangled mop was filled with ounces of spicy hash), we did what we had to do to get by. But not without a few close calls along the way. — I don't know why this is so funny to me. But I couldn't not include it. (p.121)

• "David... I know that you love your friends, but sometimes you have to put your needs ahead of others'. You have to take care of yourself." — This is Virginia's advice to Dave when he has to make the decision between staying with his friends at Scream and joining Nirvana. We all know what he chose. (p.130)

• It's appealing to see a different side of Kurt Cobain, seeing the man rather than the muso. There is a particular section I like... "At the end of the couch sat an old table where Kurt kept a pet turtle in a putrid terrarium. A true lover of animals, Kurt had an intriguing, perhaps metaphorical appreciation for turtles, as their wheels, the thing that most protected them, were actually quite sensitive. "Like having your spine on the outside of your body," he once said. But as beautiful and anatomically correct poetic as the sentiment may have been, it eventually made no difference to me, as this goddamned reptile kept me awake every night by tapping its head against the glass for hours on end in an attempt to escape our shared den of filth. I couldn't blame the poor thing. I often felt the same." (p.134) On this sentiment even while being courted by record labels, hard, the early days of Nirvana were hard as balls. It was fairly obvious they would be but it's more than I realised. Their fame and potential to better their circumstances was astronomical.

• I never knew the import of Smells Like Teen Spirit to Nirvana's story. Not the release of it but the writing and creation of it. The story of the M/V is fantastic. • The chapter He's Gone is heavy. It starts with the lines... ""He's gone, Dave" My knees gave out and I dropped the phone as I fell to my bedroom floor, covering my face with my hands I began to cry. He was gone. The shy young man who had offered me an apple upon our first introduction at the Seattle airport was gone. My quiet, introverted roommate who I'd shared a tiny apartment with in Olympia was gone. The loving father who played with his beautiful daughter backstage every night before each show was gone." (p.181). This is not actually from Cobain's death, it's from his March 3rd OD. This severely impacted his ability to grieve his suicide 5 weeks later.

• I had no idea where the Foo Fighter's name came from. Or that Dave Grohl was a UFO nut. Has an interesting take on spirituality.

• Taylor and I had become practically inseparable since he had joined the bad the year before, becoming devious partners in crime from day one. During his stint as Alanis Morissette's drummer, long before he became a Foo Fighter, we would bump into each other at festivals all over the world, and our chemistry was so obvious that even Alanis herself once asked him, "What are you going to do when Dave asks you to be his drummer?" Part Beavis and Butthead, part Dumb and Dumber, we were a hyperactive blur of Parliament Lights and air drumming wherever we went, so there was no one I would rather have shared this psychopathic safari with than Taylor. — It was this moment that made me realise that Taylor Hawkin's memorial might rival Chester Bennington's for star power. It's also a fantastic description of the relationship between Taylor and Dave. (p.213)

• There they were, wandering about like us mere mortals. And in the light of day, no less! I had always imagined (hoped) that these dark figures only came out at night after hanging upside down like bats in their mausoleums, nocturnal creatures refusing the sun, just waiting to terrorize us all with their evil anthems beneath a full moon. To my dismay, I think a few of them in shorts holding soda pops but whatever. Metal lives. — This is talking about the legends of metal performing at Ozzfest. Honestly I just think the man has a way with works, this made me laugh because it is a helluva visual. (p.215)

• The whole Down Under DUI chapter is fun. I barely remember it, but I do remember it. Getting a DUI shouldn't be funny but it kinda is when that is how you achieve it. I'm glad that Dave Grohl recognises that they are not as chaotic as Blink-182 but those two in the same room? 🤣

• Our secret was mostly safe, though Paul somehow knew, because well, he is the all-knowing, all-seeing, omniscient and omnipotent Paul McCartney. — Dave Grohl and Paul McCartney have a really interesting relationship. They have a long relationship that led to Paul playing drums on a Foo Fighters song (on which Taylor sings) Dave has performed multiple Beatles songs including with Violet. (p.300)

• There was no way that I could possibly repay this roomful of icons for the years of inspiration that they had given me, but if I could make them smile, dance, and feel the joy of music, as they had done for me my entire life, I was making a small dent in my debt. — This is about a room full of some of the most influential people in Dave's life including Paul McCartney and AC/DC. (p.302)

• Inspired Yet Again is a smart chapter. It is a few people he's met that had an impact on him in varying degrees. It does end with an ending. Dave is a gifted orator (perks of being the son of a speechwriter as well as a songwriter) he's spoken at multiple inductions are ceremonies over the years, but this ending was a funeral, Motörhead's Lemmy.

• For in a world full of Barbies, every girl needs a Joan Jett. — The whole chapter with Joan Jett Violet and Harper is just gorgeous and I'm so pleased that it was included. If you know a little girl without a strong female role model... find it, provide it. Especially now in the social media generation. To me, this is a chapter for his girls and daughters everywhere. (p.331)

• I love the idea of the Daddy-Daughter Dance, especially in an area with so many workaholic dads. This chapter has an insane story of travelling 40 hours return just to keep both his fans and daughters happy.

• WTF... KFC and champagne? Can someone who drinks tell me if that actually works?

• It is fantastic to read a person so trusting in their own instincts. Leaving school to make music his life, giving up the opportunity to join Tom Petty, performing Blackbird at the Oscars.

To me, this is a book that needs to be read to be appreciated. You do not need to be a fan of Dave Grohl's music to appreciate this, in disclosure, I am not a fan of Scream, Nirvana or The Foo Fighters. I read this because it was acclaimed, I quite like biographies and Dave Grohl has the reputation that made with appealing. Usually, the high praise of a book would put me off it but it's different for biographies I judge them differently and have different expectations from them. I firmly believe this deserves the praise that was heaped upon it in the wake of its publishing. Dave Grohl has lived a helluva life from being raised by a strong single mother, Virginia and breaking so many bones to being in immensely popular bands and living surreal moments with famous and finally raising three beautiful and talented girls he would move the world for.

#the storyteller #dave grohl #book review #memoir #tw drug use #tw death mention #ktreviews #read 2022 #the storyteller: tales of life and music #booklr

[bylroos]

when i was younger (ages 4-8, at its peak) i was obsessed with the concept of being a teenager. my aunt, who i say now is only 12 years older than me, did a lot of my babysitting around then, and i was obsessed with her, and her teenager-hood. and i remember how every time, after getting a single scrape or bruise, i would go to her and tell her it hurt. and until she did her magic teenager kiss on the wound it wouldn’t feel any better. i was enamored with the concept of being a teen—when i played pretend with my sister, instead of doing magical fantasy adventures, we would pretend like we were teenagers in high school. i spent my first decade planning my entire prom outfit down to the rings i would wear, i knew exactly where i wanted to work part-time, and i knew exactly what type of car i was going to buy with the money i saved (a pearly white volkswagen beetle).

my teenage years were some of the worst years of my life. from the time i started high school to the time i turned twenty, it’d take more than two hands to count the times i legitimately planned to end my life. only two fingers to count how many times i’d come within hours of executing my plans. one finger to count how many times (and how many weeks) i spent in the psych hospital after the second time. my teenage years weren’t only sad and pitiful, but they also weren’t what i had envisioned at all. i never went to prom (got dumped by my friends 72 hours before the event), never got the job i had wanted as a child (a waitress at one specific dive bar; although i did end up becoming a barista, which i think i enjoyed doing more than i would’ve my initial plan) and i never got that dream car (i no longer want a beetle, i haven’t for a decade, and i am beyond happy i still have my outback nearing on two decades old). my teenage years were nothing but a disappointment. to me. and to the people around me.

but god. i’m barely 21 now. barely even in my twenties. i have decades upon decades upon decades left to live my life. i’m stressed, and miserable, and going through the nightmare that is medic school, but i also haven’t thought of killing myself in over a year. haven’t self harmed for longer than that. i can see myself getting better. see myself getting stronger. i have so much freedom now, and i know i’ll have so much joy soon too. what i thought i’d have in my teenage years, i don’t have yet, but i know i will soon. i live in an apartment in a city i had never even thought of as a kid and i’m something close to happy. i can see happy on the horizon. i still drive my 20 yr old car and i wouldn’t change her for the world. i can carry the past with me, carry what i thought the future would be with me, that hope, that optimism and use it to build my own path, a path that has strayed so far off the one i had built for myself, but a path i don’t find myself regretting going down nonetheless.

i’m not a teenager anymore, no, and i can’t say i’m not glad for that. but what i can say is that whatever my childhood self wanted to get out of my teenage years, it’s not too late to make happen. just because i didn’t get something when i wanted it doesn’t mean i won’t get it at all. just because i wasn’t happy then doesn’t mean i can’t be happy now.

#idk what this us #i’m having a moment i guess???? #turning 21 has made me so introspective #i didnt accomplish anything younger me wantwd me to in high school #and yet i’m okay with that #i’m okay with how things have turned out #i’m still stressed and frustrated and barely making progress on loving myself but. #i’ll get there. #i know i will #personal

[purplesurveys]

1824

The last 8 people you spoke to (online, text, in person, whatever).

One

What is their name?: Angela.

How old are they?: We're the same age, so 25 going on 26.

How long have you known them?: Since 2005 – that makes it 19 years this year.

Do they have any siblings?: No, she's an only child.

Do they work out regularly?: I don't think she does, but she did practice a strict diet for a time.

Are they a good singer?: She's okay! She doesn't sing as a hobby or anything to that level but she can hold a tune.

Where were they born?: Philippines.

What was the last thing you said to them out-loud? I just said bye and to get home safe.

Two

What is their name?: Hans.

How old are they?: He's 26; he just had his birthday.

How long have you known them?: Over a decade now more or less. I first met him in high school.

Do they have any siblings? Names?: He does. Two brothers, but I won't share their names. When did you last talk to them?: Like 30 minutes ago? He and Angela had come over and we spent the entire evening talking and playing Heads Up lol. Do they use Myspace often?: No one has used Myspace in a very long time.

Do they go to your school?: We've never gone to the same school. He went to an all-boys high school, I went to an all-girls; then in college my university was just right across the highway from his.

Have they ever lied to you?: It's possible he's said some harmless ones here and there.

Three

What is their name?: I'm not sharing but it was my mom.

How old are they?: She's turning 53 this year.

How long have you known them? My entire life.

Do they have any siblings? Names?: She does – an older and younger brother.

What was the last thing you did with them?: We were just talking about the motorcycle that hit one of our cars this morning and I was letting her vent about how bad she feels.

Have they ever betrayed your trust?: Yes.

Do they play in a band?: Nah.

What colour do they look good in?: Black, maroon, and olive. Same as my colors actually!

Four

What is their name?: That would be my sister, Nina.

How old are they?: She's turning 24. Best thing about 2000s babies – you never have to think about how old they are hahaha.

How long have you known them?: 24 out of 26 years of my life.

Do they have any siblings? Names? Yes. Me and my brother.

Do you ever talk to them on the phone?: Yeah, but only for stuff for like when I'm outside and I suddenly need her help to look for something in my room. We live together so I never really need to talk to her on the phone much.

What is their Zodiac sign?: Idk she's a Virgo I think?

Are you related to them?: Yes.

Do they own an iPod?: She used to own a Shuffle that was basically an extension of her haha. I'm not sure if she's kept it all this time though.

Five

What is their name?: Coleen.

How old are they?: I'm pretty sure she's a '97 liner, so that makes her 27.

How long have you known them?: Around two or three years. I can't seem to remember the exact year she joined the company.

Do they have any siblings? Names?: She has at least one brother, but I can't recall if she also has a sister.

Do they text a lot?: We Viber daily since we're teammates at work. We never text though.

Do they live near you?: She does not. I know she has a condo in QC but as for where exactly, I would have no idea as that place is massive as it is.

Do you know what they’re doing right now? Most likely asleep as it's 1:30 AM and it's a work day tomorrow.

Are they a sporty type of person?: No.

Six

What is their name?: Ruthie.

How old are they?: She's 23 or 24 - can't remember her year!

How long have you known them?: Less than a year! She joined the company just last year but I'm really happy she's hanging on. The turnover rate in the PR industry isn't the best and it's pretty rare for an entry-level team member to last more than 6 months.

Do they have any siblings? Names?: She has a brother also named Robyn. Or Robin? Idk. But same name and I was very excited when I found out ahaha.

What sort of phone do they have?: She owns an iPhone, but I'm just not sure which model.

Are their parents separated or divorced?: Neither.

Can you tell them anything?: Not really. We're workmates, nottttt really close friends per se and as her superior it would be weird to tell her personal stuff.

Have you ever been in any of their classes?: We didn't go to school together.

Seven

What is their name?: Andi.

How old are they?: 25 going on 26, like most people I know lol since I tend to befriend people who are the same age.

How long have you known them?: Since 2017, so that's 7 years.

Do they have any siblings? Names?: They have a younger brother and sister. Eldest in the bunch, like me.

Do they live in a big house?: It's not a mansion or anything, but yes I'd say it's big.

Who is their favourite music artist?: They have such an expansive music taste that it's honestly hard to tell who their favorite is. I know they have a soft spot for math rock though.

Have you ever been on vacation with them?: Nah, I've never traveled with them.

Are they allergic to anything?: As far as I know, no.

Eight

What is their name?: Gabie.

How old are they?: She's a year older than me, turning 27 this year.

How long have you known them?: I've honestly been familiar with her since my high school years, since I had a friend from a different school who was in the same friend group as her; but I never interacted with her until I got employed.

Do they have any siblings? Names?: She's an only child.

Are they online often?: I'd say so. Apart from our work conversations, she posts on IG often.

Do they have pets? Names?: She has at least one dog as far as I know.

Do you hang out with them regularly?: Nah, we're not really friends friends outside of work.

Do they like Justin Bieber?: I would guess she likes a few songs of his but I wouldn't call her a fan.

[waywardsoulless]

I'm still unlearning your habits

I poured myself a bowl of cereal this morning, like I always have. You said it was cheaper to feed seven kids with cereal than it was to make a whole ass meal from scratch. Because I was young, and finances were like a foreign language, and because to some it may be worth mentioning that your my parent, I believed you. Even though I'm grown and provide for myself now, I don't make a big breakfast. A part of me doesn't because it's not customary for me it seems foreign, another part of is like it's not worth it to make a big breakfast if I'm the only one enjoying it. I get that from you, I realize that now as I see it in word form.

I also realize that is one thing I miss about my grandmother, she made a big breakfast every morning for us when we would spend the night. But you don't know how much I miss her, cause when she passed you said, "No one will miss as much as me, she was my best friend, I talked to her everyday, about everything.". She was my safe place, I didn't have to be the protector of my younger siblings at her house, I didn't get yelled at, or half to worry about my older sisters coming into the room and doing things that would require a trigger warning if I say what happened, let alone the general term for it. You lost a best a friend, I lost my sanctuary.

I can never tell you this, because you don't want face reality, the reality that your daughter had it/and has it so much worse then you ever did, and ever will. I know you had a bastard of father. I know life wasn't easy for you. There is nothing I can possibly do to remedy that, as much as I wish I could. Maybe if I did, if I could, I would be worthy of being of importance, worthy of being saved, worthy of being protected, worthy of being listened to, worthy of being respected as a human, as a child.

The milk I poured this morning had soured. You would have been livid. I almost was at myself, until I realized, I alone bought the milk, consume it, and tried to stretch the gallon further then I knew it would last. I'm not going to scold myself, or verbally take it out on myself, for three reasons. One: I'm not you. Two: I'm unlearning all the shitty things habits you had engrained in me for two-and- a-half decades. And Three; it was a cup, cup-and-a-half at most of milk, I'm not disrespecting myself over that.

I'm drinking my second cup of coffee and typing this out instead of showering, to go to the store to buy more milk. I feel better now that I have said this to someone who cares to hear me, even though I can't shake the feeling that it should be you listening to how much pain you caused me, directly or indirectly. I know that if I did tell you, you would say; "I don't remember you ever telling me this," or " I didn't know that" you did, you do, for you it was just another Wednesday. For my it was more reasons to never trust someone who says, "I love you, I love you so much I would take a bullet for you."

Which saddens me, more then I can put to words. If I ever find someone who can stand to love this broken shell, and improperly coded human that I am, I don't know that can I hear those words leave his lips. I don't know what it would it take for him to prove that is more then a saying to him, that he means it with it his whole beautiful heart, with his glorious mind.

You may have ruined one of the most romantic sayings out there, does that bother you? Does anything you said, anything you did, anything you didn't do; keep you up at night like it does me? Or does the only thing that bother you, that your daughter doesn't want you in her life, that she doesn't want to speak to you? Is that what you hold onto? Not the trauma that you had no problem sweeping under the rug like the mail you put in the drawer of the side table?

#personal #will hell fuck off and let me sleep? #how badly do wish things were different? #would you? if you could build a time machine to change the choice you made or would you go back further and un-fuck so you didn't have me? #I'm aware that both are a choice but I'm hoping against every thing I know about you that you know what I mean by the first choice

[dollycas]

The Perfect Breasts by Cara Bertoia - Review and Awareness

I am excited to share this short story with you today. When the author asked me to review and help her promote this book I couldn't say no. As a breast cancer survivor, the awareness it can bring was very important to me. That all proceeds are going to cancer research was very important to me as well. The book is available TODAY!

The Perfect Breasts Contemporary Short Stories Independently Published (September 29, 2023) Print length ‏ : ‎ 47 pages ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0CGMTYBFD

The Perfect Breasts is a personal and raw short story about boobs, by Cara Bertoia author of Casino Queen, written to honor breast cancer awareness month. All proceeds from every page read on Kindle Unlimited to every book bought will be donated to cancer research! Hannah Clein will always remember the day she went to a department store with her mother to buy her first bra as her last best day, "B.C." before the cancer. She considered herself an ordinary child who loved challah bread, reading, and her family - often in that order. With a normal life in the rear-view mirror, we follow Hannah over three decades, as she navigates the tricky transition from girlhood to womanhood. All her life, she just wants to belong. Be normal. In a tale that explores a women's complicated relationships with her body, and the love of her life, we learn the psyche is a funny thing. What are the perfect breasts? And how does the loss of a loved one affect those left behind? The Perfect Breasts mixes family lore with imagination in a compelling tale of loss, longing, and love. Dollycas's Thoughts This story is a quick poignant read that follows Hannah on a very important day in every girl's life to witnessing her mother fight cancer but lose her battle. As a breast cancer survivor with daughters, this story hit home. They along with my husband and son went through so much when I went through my chemo, surgery, and radiation. There is no guarantee it won't come back. Hannah is an Ashkenazi Jewish woman, an ethnic group that has a higher probability of having the cancer gene. Her journey is so emotional. Her fears really take over her life until the perfect person comes into her life. I was older than Hannah's mother, and my daughters were adults when I received that awful phone call but I am a full-figured woman with full-figured daughters, and worried that they may follow in my footsteps. Reading the part of Hannah's story when she was older, from the daughter's perspective, made me hyper-aware of what my daughters may have been feeling but never voiced because everyone was focused on me. We have had several meaningful discussions and reading this story will lead to more. The Perfect Breasts is a story every woman should read. This story is full of great information presented in a way you can't get from a brochure in the doctor's office. It touched my heart, it made me think, and it added to my quest to do anything I can to eradicate cancer from this world. So buy this book, read it, a feel good that you are helping. It takes money for research and the price you paid for this book is all going toward that research.

Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent

From the Author When I was a child, I grew up in a very crowded house. I had three sisters. The way I would escape all the mayhem was by reading. From the time I could pick up a book I became a voracious reader. By the age of eight I was reading my parents' novels, whatever books I could find. At night instead of counting sheep I would tell myself Cinderella type stories where I got to be the heroine. But my first real writing class was when I worked in high-tech in Boston. I took a class at Harvard Extension, and the professor read my story aloud to the group. He asked me to read it, but I was too self-conscious because it was the first story I had ever written. From that day on I was hooked. About the Author They say write about what you know, and I know a lot about casinos. My new mystery Casino Queen has been featured in The Big Thrill, Women Writers Women's Books, Charlotte Reader's Podcast, Tell Me About Your Book, and dozens of popular book review sites. In my twenties on a summer hiatus from teaching in North Carolina, I drove to California and became a dealer in Lake Tahoe. Well, I can tell you that after teaching high school, handling an unruly gambler was a piece of cake. My mother highly disapproved of my working in a casino, "a place so bad it has 'sin' in the middle." Thankfully the paper from Palm Springs disagreed with my mother. The Desert Sun raved, "As is often the case, the author pulls from real-life experiences to create a worthy piece of fiction. And her own life is a vivid kaleidoscope of adventure. Casino Queen arrives at the perfect time when crime-solving tales that revolve around strong female protagonists aren't just a luck of a draw. They're downright successful. (See TV's "Equalizer" and "Poker Face" for samplers.) To that end, Casino Queen has the makings of a streaming series." Eventually, I succumbed to pressure from the family and returned east to take a high-tech job in Boston. I also began working on my MFA in writing at Emerson. While in Boston I was offered the opportunity to join Princess Cruises as a croupier. Jumping at the chance, I spent the next five years circling the globe. Sometimes life exceeds your dreams. I was awed by the beauty of Venice, the glaciers of Alaska, and the wonders of the Amazon. I returned from ships with a very special souvenir, my husband Ray. We now live in Hollywood, Florida where I write while gazing out at the ocean. I can see the cruise ships sailing out of Port Everglades and I get a little bit jealous. #FlashFriday will return next week. Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. Receiving a complimentary copy in no way reflected my review of this book. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”     Read the full article

#breastcancer #CaraBertoia #ContemporaryWomen'sFiction #shortstories

[iris-hawthorne]

mia feys role in the fey clan: a long winded study (rant)

Doing hot guy shit and like actually shedding literal tears over how absolutely messed the Fey clan is. 

The game tends to selectively gloss over the fact that the older generation completely and willfully destroyed the youngest (and quite frankly, probably one of the last) generation of the Feys. I will now ramble about it aimlessly and in excruciating detail.

Misty left the Kurain Village when Maya was two. At this point, for the record, Dahlia and Iris were already around 6 or 7. Misty was well aware of the type of person AND mother that Morgan was, and still willfully abandoned her daughters who were not old enough to care for themselves, effectively leaving them in the care of a sister she most likely was well aware was abusive.

Mia, as a result was more than likely left to have to parent herself and her infant sister as a twelve year old, because I doubt that Morgan was being an adequate parent for either of them. (Much like how Maya will eventually be foisted into a similar quasi-parental role for Pearl, if that wasn’t already her role before we even see it in game.) 

All the while, Misty Fey was having an extended temper tantrum up in the mountains. For almost twenty years. She is painted in a relatively sympathetic light by the game, because she is only shown for the brief period she is trying to protect her daughter, and then she is killed before there is ever time to question her actions for the past two decades.

In my opinion, the game could have done a much better job leaning into how complicated her and her actions are.

The biggest question for me is why would she leave them in the Kurain? The most sympathetic answer is that the abuse in the Fey clan is most definitely generational. It is entirely possible Misty was fueled by extreme guilt for the damage she personally had done to the family reputation. It was most likely, in her mind, better for her children to remain within the village, even when the evidence to the contrary was staring her in the face.

A more cynical answer is that perhaps she wanted more than anything for them to be eligible to become the family leader. This is interesting as it places her in a relatively parallel position to her sister, despite how different they are. 

I think that either option, and more than likely a mixture of both, could be true. 

Still, no matter her reasoning, the point still stands that the girls were put in an insane amount of danger. And a HUGE weight was put onto Mia personally.

Mia, in my mind, is so amazing because she embodies such an exceptional level of triumph over the abuse and generational trauma she was subjected to/ (Maya, too, has her own opposite but complimentary triumph in her choice to continue to attempt to be a leader for the Fey clan, but on her own terms. I could talk about that at length too, but this is already getting long). 

Mia chose to be a lawyer to investigate her mother’s disappearance and the events that happened following DL-6. A fortunate side effect of this choice was that she was able to leave Kurain, and establish a life for herself outside of the insane amount of religious pressure that she was handed at birth. 

Dahlia is an amazing narrative foil to Mia in this way in a way the game doesn’t really explore. Dahlia’s attempts to distance herself from the family (which I fully believe was the intention of the staged kidnapping) end up sending her down a deep hole. She absolutely tears herself to shreds failing to resolve her own trauma. Whether she admits it explicitly or not, the last time we see her is her fighting against death itself to do what her mother wished of her. 

Mia manages to leave the Kurain in a much more well-adjusted way, even if those actions were fueled by her family demons.

Still, that freedom was so, tragically short lived. Investigating her mother’s disappearance is what got her murdered. All the while, Misty is M.I.A. Even the death of her eldest daughter as an indirect result of her actions, isn’t enough to get her out of hiding.

Mia’s dying wish was that someone would continue to protect Maya. Because she knows that as strong and capable as Maya has become, there is still a lot of very scary shit looming on the horizon, with the Fey clan in the state that it’s in. She knows that for years she has been the only person in Maya’s corner, and I can only imagine she was terrified at the idea of her being left alone. 

She stepped up in such a major way for Maya, so completely beyond what any other Fey would even consider, including their own mother. And that is what literally brings me to tears about her. 

#mia fey #maya fey #ace attorney #dahila hawthorne #iris hawthorne #iris fey #content warnings - #religious trauma - #abuse - #also i talk a lot of shit about msty fey if u like her i wld advise against reading this #i see so much hate about the characters i like just straight up in their tags #so i'm tryna extend the same courtesy i wish other people would lol

[shititbe]

Anyway, HSM2 is about internalized homophobia, and no one can tell me otherwise.

High School Musical is one of the most beloved franchises in the world. Teenagers all over the world grew up watching Troy and Gabriella harmonize together. Three movies, and nearly a decade later it’s still beloved by all. The first film easily forgotten in the ashes of the early 2000’s, the third film stuck in a purgatorial limbo of the rather unfortunate late 2000’s. The second film on the other hand sticks out between the ruckus. 

The second High School Musical film takes place at Sharpay and Ryan’s family country club, during the summer between junior and senior year. The Wildcats are working summer jobs on the country club, often forced to the beck and call of Ryan and Sharpay themselves. Sharpay uses all her prestige to help Troy with college instead of starting at the bottom ( or rather, in the kitchen washing dishes) with his friends. In the time she’s helping Troy, she is also pushing her brother away; replacing him with Troy in their musical number for the talent show, and refusing to hang out with him in preference for Troy. Ryan becomes vengeful to his twin and starts hanging around the Wildcats in the kitchen. At first, he was met with some distasteful looks and words (most of which from Chad). With the help of Kelsey, and her neutral party, Ryan fits in smoothly with the other teenagers, eventually giving the WildCats all dance lessons.

 Throughout the movie, the main conflict continues to be the internal conflict of Troy Bolton. He debates over and over again if he should go through with Sharpay’s shenanigans, or if he wants to “listen to my own heart.”  This of course involves Gabriella, as she is Troy’s love interest. She’s not in the second film except for the beginning, then, where she leaves in the middle of the film - in order to create angst for Troy - then when she shows up again in the finally to sing/rejoin Troy. 

The conflict in the second film  is the combining of Troy’s two worlds. His first - his main world in the first movie, that hence became his secondary world - which is represented by Chad. Then his secondary world - which becomes his main world in this movie - which is represented by Ryan. Chad represents Troy’s masculinity, or his more idealized version of himself. Ryan represents Troy’s femininity or his current version of reality. These two worlds collide in the iconic song “I don’t dance”.  

Since this movie - and hence this scene - came out in the early 2000’s, a lot of the innuendoes went over people's heads. Luckily, as the children who watched this movie grew older and more experienced, and the world became more accepting, we’re able to see this song for what it is. 

Before getting into the lore and symbolism of the iconic “I Don’t Dance” sequence, context is needed. For most of human history, homosexuality was seen as a sin in all places except ancient times (see: Greece and Japan). The modern age is the most accepting on all fronts, such as sexual orientation, race, and religion. In the early 2000’s, High School Musical director Kenny Ortega was not publicialy out yet. He wouldn’t be till 2014. 

Originally, while writing this, my first thought was  that Kenny - the director - would be using Troy as a y/n type character to project his insecurities and struggles with masculinity, and what that means in defining his orientation and societal views that would be placed upon him. Then, it came to me later that this is in fact not the case, Troy (and Gabriella - who is in fact a y/n character for the female audience) is more of a character for a man of his time, confused with his own ideals of masculinity and the views of society because, “oh god, I can’t like theater/drama because only queer people and girls like it!” The second point is pushed further with the Troy and Sharpay sub-plot. Sharpay tries to further Troy’s career as a basketball player, though that’s not what he wants anymore, and Troy is no longer sure if that is what he ever wanted to begin with (enter the song “Bet on it” and the hilarious meme “no dad, I’m giving up on your dream”). 

Keeping these things in mind - Kenney’s queerness, and Troy’s struggle to realize you can in fact sing and be a heterosexual, wow, revolutionary - it became clear to me that Kenney’s y/n characters were Ryan and Chad. 

For those who aren’t into the arts, or find them too difficult after a singular attempt thinking they could write a world class novel on the first go, let me be the first to tell you every author has a y/n character. First, for those who don’t know what y/n stands for, it’s a popular fanfiction trope where a writer will write a story about a character dating, being friends, and so on, with the reader. The y/n stands for “your name” so anyone can be the main character in this story at any time. For a writer of mainstream fictional work, such as High School Musical, Game Of Thrones, Lord Of The Rings, Pride and Prejudice, Harry Potter, Hunger Games, even most comics. Now, most writers or directors aren’t going to be as obvious as having a character not named (or named y/n) or even named Jane (looking at you Jane Austin), the y/n character of many mainstream authors/directors/comic artists and so on is usually the character they feel or have given the most attributes similar to themselves. 

It’s the same reason people have favourite characters. You see a fictional character and you either 1. Want to Bob the Builder them, 2. Some sort of weird sex thing, or 3. See more/the most of yourself in this character. Number three - thankfully - is usually the main reason. Some people just create their own favourite characters. An even easier way to think about this, is just projection baby, that’s psych 101.   

Before I went off on a small tangent of fictional works and how human emotion plays into creating them (except anything Disney has made in the past decade, and no you can’t change my mind on that) I mentioned that Chad and Ryan are Kenney’s y/n characters. As a queer person myself, it’s clear for me to see the different struggles each of these characters face and how these reflect the queer experience. 

So, let’s finally get into it. 

Ryan, without it being explicitly said is clearly a character of what people in the early 2000s think a gay man is. He is effeminate, wearing bright coloured outfits with lots of accessories - namely his signature hats - he is also in the theater department doing musicals, and passive/subservient to any of his twin sisters' wills. Yes, now we know gay men aren’t just feminized men, but in the early 2000’s a gay man who can do "masculine" things like change their car oil, like sports, and so on, break the "effeminate" stereotype thus confused many cishet people. Sharpay is painted as more confident - or, for sake of comparability - masculine to her twin in the first movie, and most of the second movie. Making Ryan a bit of her dog who would do anything to get by - painting Ryan as lesser than human, once more, playing into the homophobia of the early 2000's.     

Despite the clear stereotypes playing into his character, Ryan is consistently one of the most confident characters in the movie. The other, being his sister of course. This confidence in himself is what gravitates the other characters towards him, either by being intimidated (Troy, thinking Ryan and Gabriella were a thing), or admiration (Chad, by the end of “I don’t dance”). 

Chad, on the other hand, is a whole different ball game. While he is confident in the first movie, and the first portion of the second movie, he begins to break more and more when Ryan becomes a more integral part of the Wildcat group. To keep in mind, Chad is also the most vocal about his distaste for Troy’s artistic past-time. When the other Wildcats join Ryan and begin learning how to dance for the talent show at the end of the movie, Chad is also the most vocal about his distaste. The baseball game where “I don’t dance” takes place, is the climax of Chad’s arc and his turn towards acceptance to Ryan/Troy’s hobbies. 

Of course, there is more to the “I don’t dance” sequence than just Chad’s realization - the exact one Troy comes to terms with in the second movie as well - of “oh my god I don’t have to be gay to enjoy stereotypical ‘feminine’ things.” That is the main part of the song though, that and all the sexual tension. 

Going back to what I’ve stated previously, Chad and Ryan are Kenney’s projection or y/n characters. Let me do a small recap before we get into the nitty gritty of the famous “I don’t dance” video. 

Thinking back to the first few paragraphs, I stated that Kenney wasn’t publicly out till 2014, about 7 years after the second movie came out. This could be due to the fact that a) it’s the early 2000’s and everyones still very homophobic, or b) self-doubt that comes with the queer experience. The most likely reason is a mixture of both of these. Because of this, Ryan is the more self-assured version, or idealized version of Kenney that he wants to be. Ryan is confident, never being swayed about his lifestyle (could be read as: sexuality) even though Chad - and most of the wildcats in the first movie - put him through relentless “teasing” and humiliation. He’s confident, almost to a fault, he’s sure of himself, and yet still reaches out a hand to Chad and the other wildcats to show them that they’re just being, kinda dick-ish. 

Every queer person wants to be Ryan. Despite his heavily stereotyped characterization, I personally believe he is one of the stronger written characters in the movies, mainly due to Kenney putting the time in to really make Ryan feel like a real person, to give himself some sort of relief of his own anxieties, a chance to see the world through a person who truly has no fear. Unlike Kenney himself. 

This is where Chad comes in. 

Chad is seen as “confident” in the first movie, the second Troy “leaves” basketball though, all that confidence comes crashing down. His best friend has another hobby - one he thinks is “not right” (it’s okay, you can say gay), - they wont be spending all their time together (first, can you say dependent relationship much, yikes).Chad’s defining characteristic up until their fight that instigate act three of the second movie, is being Troy’s best friend. I’m going to take this as if this were truly the case, and not a decently written character arch. Some people base themselves around their friends and their whole identity on being a friend, that they lose sight of themselves, this mainly in high school of course, when your whole world is really nothing but school, and friends. Newly developed independence is there, but that’s scary, so instead of worrying about the future, cling to something that’s reliable. I’ve seen this happen, mainly at the end of high school, when the “real world” is coming a bit too close for comfort. This could generally be the case if a person is lonely, but for timeline sake I’m going to say Chad has got some anxiety about graduating (considering the second movie takes place the summer of junior year). 

His lashing out at Troy’s hobbies and at Troy’s neglectful friendship, make more sense with that background, and are seen more in the second movie where Troy begins spending all his spare time with Sharpay (trying to collect that BAG!). Chad - and others (read: father) - insists that music is not a feasible career option, and Troy should just stick with basketball (like...that is a feasible career option). The tension Chad creates in the studio only grows when the other wildcats decide to take up Ryan’s offer for dance lessons and move from the kitchen, to helping out with the talent show. (Next essay idea: how high school musical two was really about class all along, cause Jesus). 

 Chad is the less obvious option for a y/n character. Though again, the 2000’s were not as cool people like to pretend they are. Chad - for Kenney - represents what he actually feels, this fear of being rejected for how he is and how he chooses to live his life/lifestyle, so he sticks to something reliable. Ryan is new, and exciting, and confident in a way that Kenney/Chad wish they could be, but in order for that to happen they need to understand that maybe people are complex creatures, and can enjoy multiple hobbies (aka: the same lesson Troy is teaching the viewers, but far less boring). But, for Kenney/Chad facing that thought and that realization is scary, and thus, they lash out at anyone (read this paragraph as: Chad mad jealous of Ryan cause Ryan bomb as fuck). 

All this build up, finally comes ahead in the employee baseball match 

                                                       ******

The baseball game is probably the most memorable scene in the whole High School Musical franchise (minus Sharpay’s “Fabulous” solo, but that’s also from the same movie, and it’s kinda rude to give what’s already the best more points); the tension in the scene, and what it implies makes it the best written segment of all three movies, let alone the most entertaining. 

Some things to keep in mind from our background information: Chad is missing his bestie and struggling with what being “masculine” really means for him and others. Ryan of course makes this confusing, because the traditional method is being thrown out the window. In short, Chad has internalized homophobia, and Ryan being open - or as open as Disney would let him - is causing all sorts of problems. 

Despite the song, “I don’t dance” being logged into our collective skulls for all eternity (you’re probably humming it right now, sorry about that), the very brief interaction of Ryan and Chad before the game is lost on the public consciousness. The two are clearly comfortable with each other, though the distaste seems to be on Chad’s side more than Ryans. So, the two start playfully jabbing at each other before deciding to do a bat toss to see who will be in the outfield first. 

Before they begin the bat toss, Ryan says “You don’t think dancing takes some game?” Chad then very clearly checks him out, doing a simple but effective ‘drag-your-eyes-over-them-top-to-bottom-then-smile’ and says “you got game?” (Seen in gif below) 

I don’t know how much you know about sex metaphors and how many of those baseball has in it (seriously though, it’s a lot), but with the bat toss, Ryan’s hand ended up on top, and Chad’s under Ryan’s. Let’s ignore this for now, it’ll be implied again later. Ryan’s team starts out in the outfield because he won the bat toss, and hence, the song officially starts. 

The first lyrics (ignoring the chores of “hey batter batter, hey batter batter, swing”) is 

I'll show you that it's one and the same

Baseball, dancing, same game

It's easy

Step up to the place, start swingin  

This part is sung by Ryan, who is taunting Chad out in the outfield. Before the game, as stated, Chad was taunting Ryan about his lack of “game” (both sexual and not sexual metaphor are implied), and now, Ryan has turned those tables around. Baseball - is seen as more masculine than dancing, not as masculine as football or basketball, but it’s up there. Chad is someone who cares about his masculinity, enough to the point that Ryan playing baseball makes him loose his mind. Makes him question his own personal definition of masculinity, if you will. 

Ryan says, “baseball, dancing, same game,” impyling that, to him, baseball and dancing are one and the same. That is baffling to Chad, cause well, how can something meant for girls even be close to something meant for boys. 

Chad comes back with: 

 I wanna play ball now, and that's all

This is what I do

It ain't no dance that you can show me, yeah

This only proves my previous point. 

I had a conversation with myself about this, and I’ve decided not to include it in this essay, but a second essay may or may not be possible. Basically the premise - the dancing/”musical” moments of High School Musical are conjured up images by those meant to see them (ie: like a visual hallucination, but, not really) but this scene kinda poo-poos that idea. 

Now, the thing I am talking about is Ryan and Chad’s  peacocking at each other during the time they sing these lyrics. The movements they’re making could be mistaken for dancing - as we automatically assume it is because of the title and themes of the movie - or it could be them just getting ready for the baseball game. Ryan swings his leg over the pitcher's mound, tossing the ball up and down into his glove, making wavy hand gestures, etc. Chad brushes off his gloves, swings his legs, hits the bat on each foot, and so on. 

For the peacocking, Chad makes a mock of the ballerina foot stance before strutting over to the home plate. Ryan laughs at this, which earns quite the smirk from Chad himself (see gif below). 

This is when it becomes a conversation.   

You'll never know - R

Oh I know - Ch

If you never try - R

There's just one little thing - Ch

That stops me every time, yeah - Ch

Come on - Ch

When Chad says “Come on” it’s when Ryan throws the baseball at him, starting the game, and giving Chad’s team their first strike of the game (get it, it’s funny). Now, obviously we need to talk about the “there’s just one little thing that stops me every time.” As a queer person, I assure you, two of the things that kept me from living my Best Life were 1) my own ignorance of what asexuality was and 2) the fear that everyone I love would hate me for who I am, and what I have no control over. 

Sorry to get deep like that on main, but, can any other queer person say different? Obviously, your first point may differ, but my point still stands. In the video/scene there is a very short moment (to which I have condensed into a gif for you all, you’re welcome, and I’m sorry about the quality in advance), of the camera moving over to Chad’s team (or his friends in this case since it’s an employee baseball game) as he says this line (gif below). 

I will not be explaining the use of subtly in this essay, but I’m sure you get the metaphor Kenney is trying to use. If not, let me spell it out for you in very simple words. This song has a lot of sexual innuendos (as mentioned pervious with the baseball bat scene and still, more to come), with that in mind, and clearly queer themes at play (as mentioned before, again), this scene only shows Chad isn’t as straight as he leads on. His fear/phobia of Ryan/the arts come from a much deeper place. 

In shorter, and much simpler terms: Chad queer. 

But, let’s get back to the boy's conversation. 

I don't dance - Ch

I know you can - R 

Not a chance, no - Ch 

If I could do this, well, you could do that - R 

Translation: “If I can do this weird, sweaty, dirty, Male thing without blowing a fuse, you can and should be able to dance just fine.” 

But I don't dance - Ch 

Hit it out of the park - Both 

I don't dance - Ch

I say you can - R

There's not a chance, oh - Ch

Slide home, you score, swingin on the dance floor - Both

I don't dance, no - Ch  (This is just the chores, you’ll see it multiple times throughout the essay, I just figured if the song is going to be in your head, go all the way right). 

Two-steppin, now you're up to bat - R

Bases loaded, do your dance - R 

Here we are with the baseball metaphors you’ve all been waiting for ladies and gentlemen. Girls, gays, and non-binary pals. For those who have somehow managed a sheltered existence with access to the internet, lemme help you. Ryan is talking about “loaded bases” both in the context of the game (where it shows each base has one person from Chad’s team on them) and in the term of sex. While you go out there dating - while it’s mostly douche bags and people using it ironically - your nosey friends may ask you how far you got. 

“First, second, or third base?” They may ask. Or something like, “oh wow, did you get to home plate/base?” These are simply the rankings of the stages of a sexual relationship. First - kissing, sometimes just handholding, Second - making out, some light groping, Third - full on groping, no clothes come off, but it gets close. While each person has different boundaries, these are the general accepted definitions for the bases. 

Home base is obviously full blown sexual intercourse. Since Chad has his “bases loaded” it means he’s done all these things before, just never gone completely to sexual intercourse with someone - in the terms of the song and the history we’ve already established, it’s most likely a male character. This is only proven by Chad’s uncomfortable nature towards Ryan (internalized Homophobia, thank you, returning theme) but his easy, and cocky personality towards everyone else. “bUt thAt DoEsnT pRovE” hush, that’s the final cherry on top. Remember this conversation. 

It's easy - R  

Again. Previous points have been made.  

Take your best shot, just hit it - Ch 

I've got what it takes, playin my game - Ch

So you better spin that pitch - Ch 

You're gonna throw me, yeah - Ch 

I'll show you how I swing - Ch

Ah, the famous “I’ll show you how i swing” a very strong baseball metaphor for everyone. Keeps queer people from defining themselves to dangerous (straight) people, and, well, that’s it actually. This term is mostly used by bi/pan people, though if you want to stay in the closet or are in a dangerous place, it is also used to subtly tell other queer people you are in fact, not straight. My favourite is when this term came into play when President Buchanan got elected in 1856 (for those that don’t know, he’s the first and only gay president). 

You'll never know - R

Oh I know - Ch

If you never try - R 

There's just one little thing - Ch

That stops me every time, yeah - Ch 

This is again, the same lyric as before it doesn’t pan, and the tone is much different. The camera stays on Chad as he says this line, meaning he’s reflecting, he is now his own problem, the person that is keeping him back. His friends are not on his mind anymore, which is good, Ryan’s Gay Propaganda has been working. 

Come on - Ch

I don't dance - Ch

I know you can - R

Not a chance, no, no - Ch

If I could do this, well, you could do that - R

But I don't dance - Ch

Hit it out of the park - R

I don't dance - Ch

I say you can - R

There's not a chance, oh no - Ch

Slide home, you score, swingin on the dance floor - Both 

I don't dance, no - Ch

Lean back, tuck it in, take a chance - R

Swing it out, spin around, do the dance - R

I wanna play ball, not dance hall - Ch

I'm makin a triple, not a curtain cal - Chl

I can prove it to you til you know it's true - R

'Cause I can swing it, I can bring it to the diamond too - R

You're talkin a lot, show me what you got - Ch

Again, like the beginning of this song, this is a heavy base for flirting and sexual tension, which this song is drowning in. 

Stop swinging - both

Hey - both

This is the part where they all start a flash mob in the middle of the baseball diamond. Again, alluding to the conversation I had to myself earlier, this only proves my own theory as no one takes notice of this. But, that’s not this essay, this is where I mention how close Chad and Ryan are at the end of the group dance.  

Come on, swing it like this - both

Oh, swing - both

Jitterbug, just like that - both

That's what I mean, that's how you swing - both

You make a good pitch but I don't believe - both 

Here is yet another (and the final) sexual innuendo. This is actually a rather quick one. Pitching in queer culture is considered the person who tops (because queer people even had to straight-ify their sex lives to “top” and “bottom”), this is the person who is giving, if you know what I’m saying. 

I say you can - R

I know I can't - Ch

I don't dance - Ch

You can do it - R

I don't dance, no - Ch 

 Here is where that mosh pit ends, and how they get a little too close to comfort. 

Nothing to it, atta boy, atta boy, yeah - both

The rest of this song is simply a mash-up of the baseball game being finished, and this lovely gem. 

Now, clearly, Chad’s self conscious nature towards his sexuality is gone, he’s sitting close - if not squishing - Ryan, and talking to him like they’ve been friends forever. Take note of the change of close, most likely due to all the tension at the end of the song, and maybe a little of Chad’s own natural human curiosity built in. Now, I leave you with this note: 

If there is anything that confirms all this more, its Chad’s girlfriend wearing the pride colours. 

Also note: this could also be seen as a friend helping his bro discover his sexuality and fighting internalized homophobia, but, that’s ignoring the sexual tension, so go off I guess. 

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.  

Watch the full thing here

#high school musical 2 #ryan and chad #do they have a ship name? #troy bolton #high school musical #the original not the remake or whatever the kids have now #ryan evans #chad danforth #Sharpay evans #troy x gabriella #ryan/chad #that baseball scene #yall know what i'm talking about #i don't dance #the gayest scene ever #and gayest song #Anyways: the series #should I write that second essay? #thanks for coming to my ted talk

[thewidowsghost]

Sunshine - Daisy Johnson x Romanoff!Reader

Main Masterlist

imapotatao asked:

Hey! I have a Daisy Johnson x reader request. When being sent to the future, Daisy and Reader meet their grandchild. Said grandchild is brought back with deke, they have no idea that they are their grandchild until something happens to reader and they think she won't make it. Or the grandchild says something that reader always says and Daisy puts it together. (That make sense? God, I hope so. Sorry it's long.)

Daisy Johnson leans against her girlfriend, as (Y/n) Romanoff shovels pancakes into her mouth, her fiery red hair making a curtaining plate as she eats.

"You know," Phil Coulson says, eating his own food. "I think this is really the first time we've all been together in a really long time."

(Y/n) hums in agreement, swallowing another huge bite of pancake and May smiles warmly at Coulson.

(Y/n) lets out a whine as Daisy steals a bite of pancake from her, and everyone - Mack, Elena (Yo-yo), May, Coulson, Daisy, and FitzSimmons - laugh.

"Why do you always have to steal my pancakes, Sunshine?" (Y/n) asks her girlfriend, a frown on her face.

"You know you love me," Daisy replies, gazing fondly at her girlfriend. Daisy grins mischievously, taking another bite from (Y/n)'s plate.

(Y/n) blinks affectionately at Daisy. "I do," she murmurs in Daisy's ear.

"Anybody have room for some pie?" a waitress asks

(Y/n) drops her fork in excitement as the others murmur their agreement.

"Okay, so we have apple, strawberry, rhubarb, and chocolate banana cream," the waitress continues, looking amused at the excited expression on (Y/n)'s face.

There is a crackle of electricity, and the diner powers down.

There is a whir of electricity, and all the SHIELD agents sigh as lights appear outside the restaurant, resembling headlights.

"Here we go," May grumbles.

A door slams open, and some of the other customers gasp.

(Y/n) looks sadly down at her plate of pancakes before, simultaneously, the agents sit up straighter, lifting their hands into the air.

"Phillip J. Coulson," A man with a calm voice says, appearing behind said man.

"Yep, that's me," Coulson says with an eye roll, his eyes fixed on his own plate. "You got us. Nice job. And hey, congrats on the whole power-outage thing," he adds. "It was very . . . ominous."

A device powers on, and there is an actual ominous high-pitch ringing noise.

"The window closes in less than two minutes," the calm voiced man says. "Take them."

. . .

All seven agents gasp as they finally regain their breath.

Daisy sneaks her hand into (Y/n)'s, interlocking their fingers as the agents look around the dark room.

"Is everyone okay?" Coulson asks.

"Yeah, I think so," Mack replies.

Looking around the room, Simmon's eyes fall on a white rock with red lines running through it.

The Monolith melts into a white sludge, like solidified milk, and washes over the seven agents.

. . .

When (Y/n) blinks, she finds herself standing beside, not Daisy, but a woman who looked a lot like her older sister, Natasha. The same splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks, the same fiery red hair, but she had familiar chocolate brown eyes, but (Y/n) shrugs off the younger woman's - she may have been twenty or twenty one - appearance for a moment.

"You," The woman turns to address (Y/n). "We've been waiting for you to come save us."

(Y/n) tilts her head questioningly.

"You must be (Y/n)," the woman continues and (Y/n) nods.

"How do you know me?" (Y/n) asks, frowning slightly.

The young woman replies, "Virgil and I always believed the stories."

"Believed what?" (Y/n) asks. "What stories?"

"Well, this one," she answers. "T-that you would - you would come and save us."

"Save who?" (Y/n) narrows her eyes.

"Humanity," the younger redhead answers, looking grim.

. . .

Coulson, Yo-yo, Simmons, and Mack are running down a hallway, Yo-yo shooting at one of the aliens chasing after them.

There is a rumbling, and Daisy Johnson is framed in the corridor where the alien had just been - it had been exploded.

"Right?" Daisy asks shakily.

"Yes, that was right," Coulson replies, "and not the only one."

Daisy looks around at the group, noticing the two missing bodies. "Where's (Y/n)? And May?"

. . .

Coulson, Yo-yo, Simmons, and Mack stalk cautiously behind Daisy, who walks with her hand out, ready to strike.

"This has to be the coolest we've ever looked," Coulson comments.

. . .

"My friend should be here somewhere," (Y/n) comments as the two redheads walk down one of the corridors.

There is an intersection and (Y/n) crashes into a familiar, shorter figure.

"Whoa," (Y/n) says as her girlfriend scrambles to her feet, raising her hand defensively.

"Hey," Daisy says, looking relieved, wrapping (Y/n) in a tight hug.

"Hi, Sunshine," (Y/n) says so softly that no one else but Daisy could hear.

"I suppose I'll leave you here, then," the younger redhead says.

"Thanks -" (Y/n) pauses, not knowing the younger woman's name.

"Natalie," Natalie replies.

"Thank you, Natalie," (Y/n) nods.

Natalie turns and walks off, looking around cautiously, leaving (Y/n) with her friends.

"Seems like it's just a lot of work just to keep this place afloat," Coulson comments, looking at the walls.

"But it's designed for humans to survive -" Simmons says. "Atmosphere and simulated gravity - and machinery seemed to be for reclaiming water, I think."

"Yeah, it looks man-made," Coulson agrees.

"Could possibly be a colony?" Simmons wonders aloud. "Moving mankind to the stars? Maybe that's what Virgil meant by 'humanity,'" Simmons goes on.

"That's what Natalie said, too," (Y/n) says. "Said she and Virgil had been waiting for us to arrive."

"I don't know," Coulson says. "That plasma gun wasn't man-made, and I don't think they could've built this place without some outside help. It's got some serious miles on it."

"Decades it looks like," (Y/n) comments, "but that means that this program had to have been started in the eighties by Howard Stark. And that doesn't feel right. Tony would've mentioned something."

"Yo-yo found something," Mack says, appearing out of the gloom.

(Y/n), Daisy, Coulson, and Simmons follow Mack, and they find a flare still lit on the ground.

As the group walks up to the flare, it goes out, and Coulson frowns.

The group lines up in front of the door, stepping back.

(Y/n) steps forward and kicks down the door.

The agents walk into the room, catching sight of the dead men on the floor.

Daisy sighs heavily. "Nothing," she says.

"Nothing alive," Yo-yo says.

(Y/n) kneels down, studying the fresh blood on the ground.

"Hey," Coulson says, noticing the blood, as well as Melinda May's jacket.

"They didn't get to her, did they?" Yo-yo asks, looking rather concerned.

"May would've put up a fight," (Y/n) replies.

Coulson nods. "And they left the other bodies here," Coulson adds.

"'Water reclamation,'" Daisy reads off a computer screen.

"You were right, Jemma," Coulson says.

"I figured it out using magic," Simmons replies, glancing at Mack with an amused gleam in her eyes.

Mack shakes his head, not looking the least bit amused.

The console beeps and Daisy leans over the computer. "I can try and find out a layout and track May," Daisy says.

"It's in English," Simmons says. "They're tracking debris fields called 'frozen oceans'."

Daisy types on the computer, and there is a silence that is only disturbed by the clacking of a keyboard.

"They're collecting water form ice in space," Simmons says and she and Daisy look up from the computer. "This is a colony."

"Which means unless they all came through a Monolith . . . " Coulson trails off.

"Then we're close enough to Earth for people to travel here," Daisy looks back down at the computer.

"And we can get home," (Y/n) says.

"Yes, bu just as important," Simmons adds, "collecting ice means they have a spacecraft, and if they have a spacecraft, they must have a laser-based rapid-transmission system," Simmons rambles. "If we can find the ship and fly above the debris field . . ."

"We can send a message," Coulson finishes.

"We can send a message to Fitz back on Earth," Simmons goes on.

"Okay, okay, so if I can find a layout, find a ship, find May, it's a start," Daisy says. "This interface looks similar to -"  the monitor beeps, and (Y/n) leans down to read the message, her hand resting on the small of Daisy's back.

"'Human access denied'?" (Y/n) reads.

"Coulson, do you recognize this language?" Daisy asks.

"No," Coulson replies, leaning forward to look at the hand print. "I don't think humans are running this place after all."

There is a thud on the door and (Y/n) moves her hand to rest on Daisy's waist.

The door bursts open and two blue aliens step into the room, through the doorway.

The aliens attack Yo-yo, and knock her to the ground and (Y/n) advances but one of the blasters smacks her in the ribs and she hits the wall, sliding down it with a gasp of pain.

Mack tries to knock down one of the aliens with a metal pipe, but the alien doesn't gall down.

The other blue alien raises a staff and a white light floods through the room, knocking everyone in the room out.

. . .

When Daisy comes to, she blinks deliriously, but she focuses herself faster when she hears yelp of pain from (Y/n).

Sitting up, Daisy blinks again, looking at Simmons who is wrapping a cloth around (Y/n)'s ribs.

"Thankfully they're not broken," Simmons says, tightening the cloth.

"Sure feels like it," (Y/n) mutters.

"Are you okay?" Daisy asks, looking worried.

"Don't worry, Sunshine," (Y/n) replies, wincing a little, but Simmons and Coulson share a look of amusement. "I'll be alright."

Daisy softens before looking at the rest of the jail. "Mack?" she asks. "Yo-yo."

One of the Kree says, "We'll leave the transgressors on the floor chief?" He pauses. "To use as he needs."

Daisy swallows thickly, glancing at (Y/n).

"He should be interested that they've removed their Metrics," the Kree continues.

Daisy stands up and stumbles over to the doors. She slams her hand against the door. "Hey," she says, her words slurring a bit. "What are you gonna do with our friends?" she questions and (Y/n) gets to her feet, her arm resting on her bruised ribs.

(Y/n) puts her other hand on Daisy's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Whatever we want," one of the Kree says. "Experiment. They knew the rule, and they broke it."

"They're not gonna make it easy for you," Daisy says, her eyes watering.

The two Kree walk towards the door, and (Y/n) gently pulls Daisy back.

"No," the Kree replies. "They'll beg for their lives as you humans always do. I've done twenty-two rotations and I have never observed anything else."

(Y/n) swallows thickly. She takes Daisy's hand and leads her back over to the bench. "They'll be alright, Sunshine," (Y/n) murmurs. "They're strong, the two of them." Daisy turns to study (Y/n), but even though (Y/n)'s words were meant to keep Daisy from worrying, but (Y/n)'s eyes betrayed her words.

. . .

"Okay," Coulson says. "New plan."

"The Kree have been abducting humans to this outpost for years," Simmons offers.

"Running experiments?" Daisy asks, pacing the room, and (Y/n) furrows her eyebrows.

"Well, their genetic work in creating Inhumans is well-known," Simmons says. "Maybe they're doing more of the same."

(Y/n) frowns.

"Yeah, well I'm not going to wait around to find out," Daisy says, raising her hand at the door. "So . . ."

She falters as the door opens, and three figures are framed in the door.

"May," Coulson says, taking a stop forward.

The older SHIELD agent is leaning against a familiar red haired woman, and a spiky haired young man beside them.

"Buddy!" the young man says, stepping into the room. "Just go with it," he whispers. "We've been looking everywhere for you guys," he says in a normal voice. "Man. What a mess back there, huh?" he asks. "These poor suckers," the young man turns to look at the Kree. "Virgil - you know, from R&R? He was trying to scam these guys out of some tokens. This one," he turns to May, "came running to me begging for help, the poor thing. When I get my hands on that no-good louse, he's gonna have some explaining to do."

"Where is Virgil, anyway?" Natalie asks.

"He's dead," Coulson replies.

"Good," Natalie says after a moment of silence. "Good," she turns to the Kree.

"He got what he deserved then," the young man agrees, nodding to Natalie, "didn't he, for trying to drag these poor transfers up from Processing into the Wet Works," he grabs Coulson's hand, showing it to the Kree, "just to steal their Metrics."

"So, he's just Roach food then?" Natalie asks.

"Oh, yeah," Coulson replies.

"One more vacancy, right?" the man asks.

"That's what I was gonna say," Coulson agrees.

"Guys," the young man stammers.

"What did we tell you about trusting Virgil?" Natalie asks.

"She's right, we did go over this. What did we say?" the young man adds.

"Don't trust Virgil," Simmons says.

"N-not to trust him," Daisy says simultaneously, her arms crossing.

"God, you repeated it back to us," the young man says, "and we said back - it was like a pass-and-catch thing."

"Look," Natalie turns to the Kree. "We really appreciate your help with these guys, but I can take them off your hands, even slip a few tokens your way for your trouble."

There is a moment of pause and the Kree warrior nods.

"Right, let's go," the young man says, and (Y/n) lets out a soft sigh.

Daisy keeps close to (Y/n) as the two walk down the hall after Natalie and the young, spiky-haired man at her side, May and Coulson in front of (Y/n) and Daisy.

"Don't worry, Sunshine," (Y/n) murmurs, soft enough for only Daisy to hear. "I'll be alright."

Daisy's chocolate brown eyes soften, the corner of her eyes crinkling cutely. "I love you," she says softly, and (Y/n) smiles.

"I love you too, Sunshine," (Y/n) replies softly.

The group stops as the young man and Natalie look down the hall.

"What the hell happened to Virgil?" the young man beside Natalie asks. "The Roaches get him?"

"Sorry to say," Coulson replies. "Was he a friend?" Coulson asks.

"Acquaintance," the spiky-haired man replies. "He owed me a ton of tokens for this job."

"Job?" Simmons asks.

"Deke!" Natalie says, smacking the young man.

Deke looks at Natalie before her replies, "All he said was that he wanted to hide some people. That's not unheard of. So I was hired to supply the Metrics and swap them out," Deke grabs Daisy's wrist and (Y/n) narrows her eyes, "but you guys don't even have Metrics,  which means you don't have the tokens to cover Virgil's end, so have fun."

(Y/n) wraps an arm around Daisy's waist, and Deke lets go of Daisy's wrist.

"Hey, wait, wait," Daisy says as Deke turns around. "We need your help. We need to find our friends," Daisy goes on

"Your friends?" Deke asks and Natalie glances warningly at him. "Your friends attacked a Kreeper. They're as good as gone. Those blues are bred to kill," Deke looks around, "so, so just - you make your peace with it."

(Y/n) pulls Daisy back a little as Deke looms over her.

"We'll take our chances," Coulson replies, and Deke looks over at him. "Listen, if you could just help us find them and then get to the spacecraft -"

"You mean the Trawler?" Natalie asks, looking surprised. "To do what?" she questions.

"The only pilot I knew was Virgil," Deke add, "and may he rest in peace," Deke shrugs, "apparently. So best of luck to all you guys, but mine's running out."

"Jeez Deke," Natalie smacks the man's arm and (Y/n)'s eyes flare with amusement.

"Well, Deke," Coulson says, "we just wanted pie, and now we don't know where we are or what's going on, and we finally found someone who does, so you're not walking away."

"I really wanted the pie," (Y/n) says wistfully.

Then the group stiffens as they hear Yo-yo screaming in pain.

May moves forward, twists a knob, and Deke rises of the ground, and sticks to the wall.

(Y/n) glances appreciatively at the older agent.

. . .

Daisy cracks through the pad, May, Natalie, Coulson, and (Y/n) standing behind her.

"All set," Daisy says.

"Good job," (Y/n) says, her eyes twinkling lovingly.

"Express train to the bottom of the Lighthouse, no stops," Daisy says, her hand coming up to brush against the inhibitor in her neck.

Natalie, May, and Coulson walk through the doors, and (Y/n) goes to take Daisy's hand, but Daisy steps back.

"Daisy?" (Y/n) asks, looking at her girlfriend questioningly.

"I'm not coming with you," Daisy says.

"Like hell!" (Y/n) says, frowning and glaring at her girlfriend.

"I know you're scared about going home," Coulson says, (Y/n) still fuming.

"No, I'm terrified," Daisy replies. "Look around. Billions of people gone. If there's a chance I'm the cause . . . I can't go."

"We can get through this together," May says.

(Y/n) looks away, a hurt expression crossing her face.

"You don't even have your powers anymore," May goes on.

"It's only a matter of time, and you know it. If there's an emergency or if one of you are in danger, I will need them, and we will find a way," Daisy argues. "If I go through that portal, you know it's the beginning of the end."

"We don't even know you did this," Coulson says, Daisy's eyes welling with tears.

"I was right in the epicenter," Daisy replies.

"I won't let you sacrifice yourself," Coulson says, "because you're scared of what's to come."

"What's to come is the end of everything," Daisy argues, her voice rising.

"If you can change the future here, you can change it back home," May says, gritting her teeth.

"But we know this solution works," Daisy says.

"I. Don't. Care!" (Y/n) shouts, clenched, her eyes filled with tears.

There's a pew noise, and Daisy drops to the ground, the dendrotoxin doing it's work.

Natalie gazes, wide eyed at the brunette lying unconscious on the floor.

(Y/n) tucks the ICER into the waistband of her pants, kneeling down to brush her fingers across Daisy's cheek.

"She's not going to forgive you," May says and (Y/n) glances up at her.

"I'm not leaving her here," (Y/n) picks Daisy up from the ground, and Daisy's head lolls to the side, resting against (Y/n)'s shoulder. "Let's go," (Y/n) says grimly.

. . .

May, Coulson, (Y/n) - who is still carrying Daisy - and Natalie walk down to meet Simmons, Fitz, Mack, Yo-yo, Flint, and Deke.

. . .

"What happened?" Simmons asks, her eyes falling on Daisy's unconscious figure in (Y/n)'s arms.

"She ICE'd her," May replies. "Daisy didn't want to come home."

"I wasn't going to leave her behind," (Y/n) says softly.

"Where's Yo-yo?" Mack asks. "She didn't find you?" he asks.

(Y/n) lies Daisy down on one of the couches on Kasias's lounge, Daisy's head resting in her lap.

"I'm sorry, Sunshine," (Y/n) murmurs. "I know you might not forgive me, but I couldn't leave you behind. Not like this." (Y/n) swallows thickly, blinking back her tears. (Y/n)'s fingers thread through Daisy's hair. "I love you too much to leave you here."

Coulson walks over to (Y/n), his eyes soft, and his voice is gentle, "It's time." He glances down at Daisy resting in (Y/n)'s lap. "Do you want me to take her?"

(Y/n) shakes her head. "No, I've got her."

(Y/n) shifts slightly, holding Daisy in her arms before she stands up.

Coulson stands beside (Y/n).

The rock turns to liquid and everyone - minus Daisy - looks around as they realize that they're in the same place.

(Y/n) lies Daisy down on a table, slips her hand into her pocket, and sets the box in Daisy's jacket pocket.

"Not like you'd want to," (Y/n) murmurs.

"Well that was a hell of a thing," Fitz says and (Y/n) smiles.

"Are you kidding?" Natalie says, looking around. "I'm from the future."

Coulson looks amused, then looks at Yo-yo, Mack, and Simmons. "I'm so glad you guys made it," Coulson says.

"Why are we still in the Lighthouse?" Yo-yo asks.

"Maybe Flint's Monolith didn't work," Mack offers.

Natalie looks around. "It took us to the same place, but in a different time."

Fitz nods at the redhead. "She's right."

"We're home?" Simmons asks.

"Yeah," Fitz says, and all the agents sigh with relief.

. . .

Coulson gives the agents some tasks, and (Y/n) has to remain in the same room as the unconscious Daisy.

(Y/n) opens one of the electrical panels but freezes when she hears a familiar voice.

"You ice'd me," Daisy's words are slurred. She shifts slightly, not noticing the velvet box in her pocket.

"I was . . ." (Y/n) pauses, a pained expression flashing across her face, ". . . kind of hoping you'd forget that part." (Y/n) stops herself before she says 'Sunshine.'

Daisy scoffs before she sits up, looking around at her surroundings. "Sorry to . . ." she falters, ". . . disappoint."

(Y/n) swallows thickly, focusing back on the problem in front of her she could actually fix.

"It looks the same, but we're - we're home, aren't we?" Daisy asks.

"I -" (Y/n)'s voice quavers, "- I couldn't leave you behind."

"Even with all of the risks that -" Daisy begins.

"I don't care," (Y/n) turns around, biting the inside of her cheek. "I need you here."

Daisy tilts her head, softening.

(Y/n) turns back around, fiddling with some of the wires.

There is a spark, and the lights flicker on.

(Y/n) sits herself on the floor, her back to her girlfriend.

Daisy softens even more, and gets to her feet.

(Y/n) jolts as she feels Daisy's arm wrap around her waist.

As Daisy leans into (Y/n)'s side, both women can feel the box (Y/n) had left in her pocket pressing against their sides.

Confused, Daisy reaches a hand in her pocket, pulls out the box.

"What's this?" Daisy asks. She opens the box and finds a pair of rings inside the box.

]Daisy's eyes widen and she stares at (Y/n).

"Marry me?" (Y/n) asks, meeting Daisy's chocolate brown eyes.

"Yes, is that even a question?" Daisy says, capturing (Y/n)'s lips in a kiss, pouring her love into the kiss.

Daisy's hand moves to the back of (Y/n)'s head, deepening the kiss.

Daisy pulls back from the kiss, to find a disheveled (Y/n) blinking back at her, her eyes wide.

(Y/n) shakes her head slightly, takes the sun ring from box and sliding it onto Daisy's ring finger, and Daisy does the same with the moon ring, sliding it onto (Y/n)'s finger.

(Y/n) leans into her new fiance's side, and Daisy smiles softly, her head resting against (Y/n)'s.

"I love you, Sunshine," (Y/n) murmurs.

"I love you, too," Daisy replies, her eyes gleaming happily.

. . .

"Plans are already in motion," Leopold tells Fitz, smoothing the front of his suit.

. . .

(Y/n) charges into the room and she finds a teary-eyed Daisy on her side, strapped to a table, and Fitz sitting in a chair beside her.

"Fitz? What are you doing?" (Y/n) asks.

There is the sound of a gun firing, and (Y/n) looks down, her hand coming up to her stomach.

(Y/n) slides down against the wall, her eyes glazing.

Daisy lets out a strangled, pained cry.

Simmons and Deke - who had somehow appeared a few days before - run into the room, Simmon's eyes falling on (Y/n), and her eyes widen in horror.

Daisy screams as Fitz cuts the inhibitor from her neck as Simmons and Natalie - who had just ran into the room - crouch beside (Y/n).

(Y/n) lets out a pained groan as Simmons presses against the wound.

"Don't worry, Sunshine," Natalie says, and (Y/n) is too dazed to realized what the redhead had said, but Daisy isn't, and her eyes widen. "You'll be okay.

Mack enters the room next, and he takes Fitz down into the holding area.

. . .

Daisy sits by (Y/n)'s side in the MedBay, holding (Y/n)'s hand.

Natalie enters the MedBay, and Daisy fixes her gaze on the redhead.

"Where did you hear the Sunshine thing?" Daisy asks, and the question startles Natalie a little.

"My mom would always talk about how adorable her mothers were," Natalie admits. "She said that one of her moms would call the other Sunshine. I always though it was the sweetest thing.

Daisy's eyes widen with disbelief. She studies Natalie's familiar features, the fiery red hair, the same splash of freckles across her nose, and chocolate brown eyes that matched her own.  "(Y/n) always calls me Sunshine," Daisy whispers. "You're our -"

"Grandaughter," Natalie finishes, her eyes wide.

Word Count: 4322 words

Skye / Daisy Johnson Taglist:

@imapotato

@confusinggemini612

@marie45019

#daisy johnson x female reader #daisy johnson x romanoff reader #daisy johnson x reader #daisy johnson x fem reader #skye x female reader #skye x reader #skye x fem reader #skye x romanoff reader #skye #daisy johnson #phil coulson #melinda may #deke shaw #agents of shield #leo fitz x jemma simmons #phil coulson x melinda may

[thenigotthisfamily]

heres just a quick silly idea: yelena walks past a meeting room where the original 6 avengers are having a meeting. tony and steve are arguing AGAIN and nat gets fed up and starts scolding everyone. they all back down and shrink like scared puppies and yelena bursts out laughing at how they're all supposed to be these big strong superheroes but her soft older sister can make them all cry with just a couple words😭. nat is still mad though and starts going off on yelena about slacking off and "shouldn't you be cleaning up that laundry all over the house?"

you can end this however i just thought it'd be a funny interaction😭😭

Thanks for this request! I combined this with another similar idea I got for these guys. I didn't realize how much I had to say on Natasha's behalf until I wrote this. 😂😂 Enjoy!

Word Count: 3,076

Natasha Romanoff was a patient person. She had to be, given her upbringing as a trained spy. But the 5 bickering men in front of her had a special way of getting on her absolute last nerve. She loved them all dearly. But they currently had her considering a permanent career change.

The original 6 Avengers were all in the main common room at the compound. Something that rarely happened since Thor was often off world and Clint with his family. But Natasha thinks it’s a good thing the 6 of them being together was so rare considering they were just about to tear each other apart after less than an hour together.

They were a great team. There’s no denying that. Other than Yelena, there’s no one that Nat trusted more in battle. No one she instinctively understood more in a life-or-death situation. After all, they did spend over a decade posing together.

They were also all great friends socially. Natasha had a unique connection with each of them. But when the banter and battles died down and the Avengers actually had to agree on something serious (see Sokovia Accords), it was just a complete disaster. There simply wasn’t a room big enough to hold all their egos. Specifically, Steve and Tony’s. Add Thor to the mix and there was just no chance of agreement.

It was times like these where Natasha missed the peace and quiet of her other team. The team she led during the worst 5 years of her life. She’d never want to go back to those times, but at least that team didn’t fight every 2 seconds. And at least it had another friendly female face. Natasha often wonders how she survived as the only female Avenger for far too many years.

The six of them were trying to discuss a plan for their next global initiative. Naturally, Tony wanted to make a huge scene while Steve wanted it to be ridiculously patriotic. Thor wanted to bring all the Asgardians to earth for a huge party. Bruce didn’t want to do it at all. And Clint, well, his first words when he walked in were that he didn’t want to be at the compound, never mind an initiative.

Natasha sighs, putting her feet up on the couch as the boys stand around bickering. She rubs at her temples, feeling a migraine coming on. She then feels the familiar buzz of her phone.

Are you alive Poser?

Natasha grins, typing out her reply. No, I think I’ve died and this is my hell.

Hmmm but would you get texts from your favorite sister in hell?

You’re my only sister Lena.

Natasha quickly types another message. But you’re right, if you’re here, it can’t be hell.

Awww what a softie :)

Shut up.

Admit it Poser. You’ve gone soft.

I’m leaving.

Please. We both know texting me is far better than listening to all that testosterone.

Whatever.

💩

Natasha rolls her eyes at the emoji that Yelena used far too much. You’re lucky you’re cute.

I’m not cute! 

Have you seen your baby cheeks and nose Rooskaya? You’re adorable.

Shut up Poser!

Never.

Natasha puts her phone down and sighs as she hears the men continue to argue.

“Tony for the last time! The council will never agree to that plan!” Steve huffs in anger.

“Since when do you listen to councils?” Tony refers to the Sokovia Accords debacle.

“I still don’t understand why we can’t have it in New York. People have already seen the portal Loki opened there. Asgard can just come for a quick visit. It will be an even more unifying event.” Thor chimes in, twirling Mjolnir.

“The people of New York have already been traumatized enough!” Bruce interjects.

“Asgard isn’t traumatizing!”

“Thor, there isn’t enough space in New York for all of freaking Asgard.” Clint interjects, muttering under his breath how he could be golfing right now instead of at this meeting.

“You humans are so tiny.” Thor mumbles.

“It’s okay Point Break, at least you’re trying to do something actually unifying and not incredibly boring like Star-Spangled Man with No Plan over here.” Tony pats Thor on the shoulder, looking annoyed back at Steve.

“At least I’m trying to protect the event from being absolute chaos!” Steve grinds out angrily.

“What’s wrong with a little chaos?”

“Tony we have literally destroyed at least 5 cities and 2 whole countries with our chaos.” Steve bites back, thinking through all the destruction they had caused.

“You didn’t seem to care all that much when they initiated the Sokovia Accords about it!”

“You only cared about those Accords because you couldn’t live with your guilt!” Steve yells. Natasha winces, knowing this was going nowhere good.

“Oh you want to talk about guilt? Let’s talk about your dear friend Mr. Barnes that is currently living under my roof!”

Steve opens his mouth to retort and the two men look like they’re about to have a second civil war in the Avengers’ living room when Natasha jumps up.

“Okay enough!”

The Black Widow pushes the men apart so forcefully that they both stumble back, looking slightly shocked.

“I have had it with all of you!” She points at the 5 men who all stare at her in legitimate fear.

Clint frowns, glancing at Bruce and Thor, “What? We didn’t do anything, that’s not fair!”

Natasha glares at her best friend and he falls silent. “Clint, if you really don’t want to be here, then leave. Honestly, I’m sure the kids would love to see you. But if you’re here, at least try to contribute helpful commentary!” Clint looks down at that, fiddling with his shirt.

The redhead just turns to Bruce though. “Bruce, I know you hate all of this and going to an event where you have to be out in the open. I get it. But no one is forcing you to go anywhere, really. And if you want to go, then speak up about where you want the event to be that is best for you!” The scientist rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and nods.

Natasha turns to Thor whose eyes widen, not being used to seeing the Black Widow so angry. “Thor, come on. You know bringing all of Asgard here is a bad idea. Sure, Thanos and his army came and there was that whole battle of New York, but those were contained events. Bringing an entire planet to visit earth for a giant party is just not something we are ready for.” Thor pouts a bit but nods.

The Black Widow turns to Steve and Tony last and Tony tries to interject, “Look Romanoff we-“

“No! You’ve spent the last 60 minutes talking Stark. It’s my turn.” She steps closer to the two so-called Avengers leaders, fire in her eyes.

“You two, are on my last nerve. I have put up with your antics for the last 15 years of my life, but that just means that I have 15 years of things to be annoyed about! I can’t remember the last meeting we had that you guys didn’t fight! I’m so done with it! We’ve all been through hell together, and yet the one constant that remains is that you two can’t agree!”

Natasha takes a breath, but she’s just getting going.

“I have followed you guys for over a decade. Helped clean up both of your messes.” She refers to her time at Stark Industries and helping Steve chase The Winter Solider around. “And I have no regrets about that. The 6 of us are a great team. But for all the credit you guys get for forming this team and saving the world, let me remind you, that it was you two that tore it apart. You two that got half of us sent to prison. You two that made me have to go into hiding for 2 years when I literally tried to help both of you see eye to eye!”

The Black Widow pauses one more time as she feels the words that she had been thinking for so long on the tip of her tongue. She supposes she needs to get them off her chest.

“And if you guys hadn’t spent 2 years acting like a scorned divorced couple, then maybe we would have still been a team when a certain titan came to our planet. And maybe, just maybe….we wouldn’t have lost everything for 5 freaking years.”

The room is deathly silent as the words hang in the air.

Natasha can’t bring herself to feel guilty about them though. It was something she had wondered every single day during those 5 years. She tried not to hold onto things anymore. Especially now that Yelena was with her again, she had no need to hold a grudge. But it wasn’t a grudge really. It was more like she wanted these two men, some of the most important people in her life, to finally see the point.

That the biggest threat to the Avengers is always themselves.

Tony looks at the ground, looking more humbled than Natasha had ever seen him. Steve just gazes at Nat guiltily.

“Nat I-“

“I don’t want apologies Rogers. Just…do better. I know you guys can.”

All the men nod at her and she lets a deep breath, feeling a weight lifted off her shoulders at finally getting her point across.

“And that’s why we had her run the Avengers while all y’all were running away.” A new voice chimes in.

All of them turn quickly, not having heard anyone else come in while Natasha was airing her grievances. They see Rhodey standing there, smirking. Others like Wanda and Sam are there as well. But Natasha focuses on the blonde behind Rhodey who is looking at her with wide eyes.

Natasha winces slightly, not really wanting her baby sister to have heard all that. But Yelena just looks at her with so much pride and adoration that the redhead feels her heart swell.

“How long have you guys been standing there?” Tony asks.

“Long enough to know you all just got your assess handed to you by the Black Widow and she didn’t even throw a single punch.” Sam smirks.

Steve shakes his head, figuring there’s no use in denying anything or rehashing it. He sits down on the couch and others follow, sitting around the common room. Yelena comes over and quickly sits next to her sister, grinning up at Natasha who shifts uncomfortably.

“What?” Natasha asks.

“You never told me you led the Avengers while I was gone!”

Natasha blushes, “It was hardly leading. And we certainly weren’t the Avengers. It was more just me staring at emails and holograms, telling people what to do and trying not to cry.”

“Please. She’s being modest. Nat kept us all together.” Rhodey chimes in next to Yelena. “I mean, she helped the entire universe, even Carol reported to her. And she read messages from the raccoon.”

Yelena grins in surprise, “What? You have to tell me about that Sestra! Why doesn’t anyone talk about this?”

The blonde looks around at the other original Avengers who all shift nervously. Natasha clears her throat, feeling awkward. “Yelena, it’s just not a time any of us like to remember.”

Yelena softens slightly at that, but turns back to Rhodey. “So who else was on this team?”

Rhodey glances hesitantly around the room before answering. “Me. Rocket. Carol. Nebula. Okoye and some other Wakandans.”

Yelena’s eyes widen, “That’s it?!”

Natasha winces.

The blonde gets up and points at the others in the room that hadn’t been dusted. “You five, her so called friends, left my sister alone??”

“Yelena-“ Natasha tries to pull her sister back down but the blonde shakes her off, glaring at the others.

“No, what is all of your problems!?” Yelena glares at them. “After all my sister did for each of you?”

The other 5 glance guiltily at each other. Getting reamed out by one black widow was enough, but two in one day was something that none of them ever wished to experience again.

“I can’t believe all of you!” She curses at them in Russian before turning wildly back to her sister, “Tasha how is this the first time I’ve seen you yell at them?”

“Потому что, когда я вернул тебя, все это уже не имело значения.[1]” Natasha answers genuinely, hoping to calm the blonde down.

Yelena softens slightly at that but still turns back to glare at the others who continue to avoid her gaze.

Clint finally speaks up, “Yelena, we made mistakes. I made mistakes.” He looks at Natasha guiltily as he thinks of his time as Ronin, but the spy just shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”

The other men nod in agreement and Yelena huffs, annoyed that was the only apology she was going to get her sister.

Steve pipes up though, “Yelena, they were in good hands though. Natasha is a great leader. She was their rock. She kept everything together. And the rest of us…well, you’ve seen our leadership skills sometimes leave a lot to be desired.” He glances at Tony who doesn’t disagree, and Yelena supposes that speaks volumes for the billionaire.

“Fine.” The blonde huffs. “But it sounds like you all owe my sister a lifetime of favors.” Thor raises his hammer to that and the others nod.

“Also, it’s ridiculous that you guys are called earth’s mightiest heroes when you all looked ready to shit your pants when my sister was yelling at you.” Yelena throws one last glare at the men, making it clear how displeased she still was at them.

“Yeah, who were you guys saying the most powerful Avenger was again?” Sam looks smugly between Thor and Bruce who were constantly having that argument. Thor frowns deeply while Bruce just shrugs not caring if he conceded that title to The Black Widow.

Natasha rolls her eyes, feeling embarrassed by the whole situation. She grabs Yelena again and this time the blonde lets her pull her back down.

“Enough talk about me. I hate it.” Natasha addresses the room.

Yelena grins, “That’s why you’re such a great leader!”

“True.” Clint agrees.

Natasha huffs, biting back a blush as she looks over at her sister with mock irritation. “Don’t you have cleaning that I asked you to do or something?”

“Bah, since when do I clean? And since when do I listen to you? Unlike these ridiculous scaredy cats, I’m not afraid of you.” Yelena grins back at Natasha as the rest of the room falls into their own conversations.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “You know, you’re wrong. What makes me such a great leader is my endless patience for people’s ridiculous antics like yours.” She reaches out and musses her sister’s blonde hair.

Yelena swats at her. “Please, like you could live without my antics.”

Natasha sobers, thinking back to the 5 years that had been referenced far too much that day. She massages Yelena’s scalp with her fingers and presses a kiss to her forehead. The blonde just basks in the affection.

“You’re right little one, I couldn’t.”

Yelena grins and is about to reply when Tony clears his throat, causing both sisters to roll their eyes but turn to him.

“Steve and I have agreed on something.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow.

“Must be the end of the world.” Sam chimes in.

“More like trying to prevent that from happening again.” Steve responds.

Tony nods, looking at Natasha. “We’re appointing you leader of the Avengers, Romanoff.” All eyes turn to the Black Widow.

Natasha just stares at them with a mix of bewilderment, amusement, and slight annoyance. These guys, bless their hearts, still didn’t get it. Natasha didn’t want that. She certainly didn’t want to do all the press and speeches that Tony and Steve did. Didn’t want even more publicity than she already had. Didn’t want the power. The scrutiny. The responsibility. She didn’t have the need to be the leader like Steve and Tony did. She’d much rather just continue as she has been, operating in the background and getting things done that her fellow Avengers never could while still having time for her favorite person.

Besides, Natasha Romanoff was the greatest spy on the planet. She could get her way from the other Avengers whenever she really wanted without them even knowing it. Today was a prime example of that. But no way did she want or need the title of leader bestowed on her.

Natasha glances at her sister who looks at her with a slightly unreadable expression, wondering what the redhead would say. Though Yelena knew for a fact Natasha could lead the Avengers far better than anyone else, she selfishly didn’t want her sister to spend even more time dedicated to the initiative than she already did.

The Black Widow smirks her signature smirks and leans back smugly. Figuring she’d have time to officially decline the ridiculous title later.

“Poor boys, don’t even realize you’ve been following me the last 15 years already.”

The other five pause at that, thinking through the statement. Bruce thinks back to how Natasha was the one that recruited him to be an Avenger. Clint remembers how The Black Widow killed the Ronin. Thor recalls how the redhead got his brother to spill his secrets in less than 5 minutes when Thor never could. Steve remembers Nat shooting T’Challa over his shoulder, knowing it had to be done before the entire team tore itself apart. Tony remembers his introduction to The Black Widow where she played the best triple imposter he’s ever seen, one that saved his life multiple times in the span of a few days. They all remember Natasha’s ultimate sacrifice on Vormir, and how they truly did feel lost and leaderless when Clint came back alone.

Yelena smirks at the looks on the men’s faces. “I think you broke them.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, “Nah, they’ll be back to their usual annoying selves in no time, trust me.”

But she smiles meaningfully at the other five men across from her as they all share a moment of silent understanding and bonding that only the 6 of them would be able to comprehend.

The Avengers was a complicated mess. But they were her mess.

Translations

[1] Because when I got you back none of it mattered anymore.

#yelena and natasha #natasha romanoff #black widow fanfiction #steve rogers #tony stark #clint barton #thor #bruce banner #yelena belova

[heyitsyn]

MANAGER!SEIJOH AU

a/n: this is kind of an au like what if you were

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon:

- 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 i would like to request a seijoh!manager reader who’s a first year and is siblings with ushi and the team’s reaction to finding out that she was supposed to go to shiratorizawa with ushi and their reaction with her getting along with the shiratorizawa volleyball team and maybe the manager is a small cute soft little energetic ball of sunshine 🥺🥺 also hewwo, hope youre doing well! ☺️ -🎷🐛

- Ir seijoh manager series is so gooood. Can we get something where by some weird reason yn-chan is close to ushijima and tendou and the seijoh boys dont know about it and how they'd react to her being so affectionate w them ahahwindkdn

EVERYONE SHUT UP AND LOOK AT HOW FREAKING PRETTY TENDOU IS LIKE AKLFDJLASKFJDLSKFJDSFLKD

okayokayokay

so this is a what if thing

like what if ushijima was your older brother

SLKFDJADFLIJSDKLDF I CAN ALREADY IMAGINE OIKAWA SCREAMING

you didnt exactly have the best relationship with your mom

you remember when you were younger that she used to yell at your brother for using his left hand and you got angry a lot because you were fiercely protective of your brother

this caused her to yell at you too for being nosy and being involved in something you shouldnt be in

duh we know that ushi’s dad takashi actually supported him for this and protected him too and you were also a papa’s girl so you always ran to him

he understood you both better and while your mother worked, he was at home taking care of you two

then when they mentioned wanting to separate, you were very sad but somewhat relieved

mostly because you hated hearing your parents arguing and you felt bad for your brother as he constantly did whatever to get you out of the house

thats what brought on your love for volleyball

you werent exactly the best player but you were interested in it and often watched matches with him

but you also liked volleyball because your brother liked it

you liked whatever your brother liked

he adored you too and he was a boy who didnt talk much due to your mother but he was always a talker with you

especially when you couldnt sleep, he would sneak you out of your room and you both would run to the kitchen and eat ice cream

even with just a 2 year age difference, he looked as if he was older than you due to his massive height

‘just wait nii-chan! i will drink enough milk to reach your height!’

*insert lenny face*

AKLDJFSLDKFJDF I HATE MYSELF

CAN I PLEASE DIE

however

when they divorced, you thought your father would take both you and ushi

like the lady at the court even asked you where you wanted to go and not a breath of hesitation you chose your father

you weren’t very concerned because you knew your brother was going to choose your dad as you both were closer to him

so imagine your surprise when he said he didnt care and naturally, the mother would get the child

lowkey you felt hella betrayed and when your dad whisked you away overseas, there was this grudge you held against toshi

yall youre like 5

i would be hella mad too if my brother chose the person who yells at him all the time

in california, your father made sure you still remembered your brother and you tried to detach from the japanese lifestyle to your new one but you just couldnt

maybe around 6 years you were already fed up with the hot california heat and you wanted to go back to japan to see toshi again

you got over that grudge years ago but your mother refused to have any contact or anything to do with your father and so that included you too

she refused to let you both video chat and any type of connection

your dad obviously noticed your sad expressions and your obvious longing to go back to your brother again and so he arranged something

you shut the door gently before taking off your shoes by the doorway

the large house was often quiet except for the constant typing of a keyboard in your father’s study

‘tadaima’

you meekly mumbled but his sense of hearing never wavered so he heard your voice

‘oh? y/n?’

his voice echoed through the hallways and you heard his chair squeak as it was moved back so he could stand

your sock-cladded feet padded against the hard wood floor and you walked towards his study where indeed he was standing there

your father has definitely aged yet his job as a coach made him as fit as he was decades ago

as much as it disgusted you, you could tell what your friends meant when they said your dad was good-looking

they actually said your dad was hot but you refuse to acknowledge that

you and your friends are like 12 tf

you closed the door and sat down on the loveseat at the corner of the room as it was your designated spot

‘hey, papa’

you greeted with a smile and he gave you the same grin

‘i ordered f/f (favorite food) for dinner tonight so try and listen for the bell to ring, okay?’

you nodded

there was bit of small talk and you asked about his team while he asked about school and you both arranged to hang out over the weekend at some ice cream shop

the conversation dragged on until you heard the doorbell and you ran to the door to answer the delivery man

your dad put out the plates on the table and you excitedly dug in

‘also, you remember your grandmother? and her terrible back?’

oh god of course you did

they lived about 30 minutes away from your house in japan and she constantly worried your father bc the woman was approaching 90 and was still picking peppers!

with old coach ukai

‘what did she do now?’

your father chuckled at the exasperation in your voice

‘she misses you. says something about the family’s princess needing to go back to her country or something’

there was a smile in your face

your grandmother was your favorite and she always said you were the princess

she hated your mother because of how insensitive she was so she only acknowledged you as the only other female in the family

obviously your brother was also liked but there was just a special bond between you and your grandmother

‘so when are we going back?’

you asked and it was clear that you were excited at the thought of going back to japan as you havent been back since you moved due to your father’s busy job and your school

takashi swallowed his food before revealing the news

‘actually, if you want, you could finish your schooling there. but only until college first though because your old man needs you over here too’

nah bro you didnt even care about the last part

literally your fork fell to the table and you shrieked 

‘WHAT?! SERIOUSLY?!’

and thus brought you back to japan

you stayed with your grandmother on your dad’s side and you quickly got accustomed back to japan life

OH

your BROTHER!

okay

so waka-chan def heard you coming back

your mother was grumbling about it the other day and he was sure he heard your name in there

‘sdkfjkdslfjdkslfj y/n dkfjlsdkfjldkf’

LMAO THATS ME TRYING TO SAY THAT WAKA COULDNT UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE SAID SINCE SHE WAS MUMBLING SHE WASNT KEYBOARD SMASHING LMAO

there was a mutual giddiness in there too and he was excited to see you again after many years without contact

however

there was a bit of fear in there that thought back to when you were younger and his choice of not really having a specific parent despite your pleads to stay together with him

but he was going to make sure your bond was still intact!

he would do anything in his power to do so!

when you arrived

your dad accompanied you back to japan and you both were walking out to the exit of the airport when you saw your grandmother excitedly waving a sign around

in bold sparkly letters, it said ‘USHIJIMA’

okay wait i love grandma usui 

you quickly ran over to her and she grasped you into her arms

‘nana’

you sobbed and she hugged you tightly

‘im so happy youre back home’

your father shook hands with the friend she brought to help drive you guys back home

old man ukai was basically the chauffeur but hes really good friends with your nana so it was okay

the entire ride you guys basically caught up with each other and you couldnt help but laugh whenever your dad would go on a rant about your grandma being too reckless and your nana defending herself

‘oh stop it, takashi. i was only given one life and if it’s over, it’s over. for now, ill live it how i see fit!’

your old family home was exactly as you remember it but you didnt expect the 6′2 boy in the living room

‘nii-chan’

you meekly whispered and he let out a soft smile before opening his big arms

you ran into them and he held you tightly

‘i missed you. so much’

he whispered and you nodded 

it was def such a nice thing to have your brother again

oooo your dad been knew that you would be sticking to waka like you did when you were itty bitty young

so when you practically begged waka to stay at your nana’s house the entire summer, he couldnt refuse you

duh your mom went to see you but you just quietly sat there and smiled at her

polite but distant

due to being around waka so much, you naturally went to his volleyball practices and their training camp

there

you met his friends and you guys quickly got acquainted especially with tendo bc he was just so fun

and he was your brother’s boyfriend best friend

the others were still kinda distant with you ahem ahem im looking at you shirabu

but they were mostly amazed at how powerful the genetics played in your appearances because wowza you were beautiful

lmao dont let waka hear them say that bc they would be benched all season in a single snap

during training camp, you usually sat at the sides or you would be their stand-in manager

goshiki absolutely LOVES you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GOSHIKI MY SON MY BABY

him and you were the same age so there was an easier way of being friends and your energies just matched so well

he would run up to you whenever he got a play right and you would ruffle his hair affectionately

LADKSJFLDSKFS FLASHBACK TO TENDO!SISTER X GOSHIKI

‘y/n-chan!’

‘y/n-chan!’

‘y/n-chan!’

hell even ushi was getting annoyed at goshiki’s constant need for you

tendo would steal you away and he would be giggling to you about how adorable you were and you just giggled along bc wow this beautiful man is really talking to me right now

ALKSDJFLKSF CAN YOU TELL IM ALSO A TENDOODOO SIMP?

‘cmere, y/n-chan. i taught toshi this the other day and he was very impressed and wanted me to do it again. okay so it goes in a rhyme, ya ready?’

you nodded along and he shot you a close-eyed smile before starting to draw on the dirt with a stick

‘there once was a man with-’

lets just say

you were definitely your brother’s sister

sometimes though

you would try and go towards the calmer players to get away from the rowdiness from baby daddy tendo and baby goshiki

you would find them at the gym just doing drills and at the sight of you, they would turn red but continue playing

they didnt really mind seeing you there bc youve always been such a positive energy and cheered them on which gave them strength

‘NICE ONE OHIRA-SAN!’

‘WAHHH SO COOL YAMAYAMA-SAN!’

you were like a cute ball of serotonin >o<

‘wah, of course its expected for you guys to be the top in the prefecture. youre like,,,,, silent but deadly~!’

duh a compliment from a girl?

dead

shirabu’s bangs would get in the way of his vision sometimes yall i will never stop making fun of that ridiculously adorable haircut so you would use a clip and tuck it away for him

this big babie is so awkward that he turns red when you whisper in his ear that you were done

semisemi baby and you got along bc you guys had a similar taste in music and because you lived in california, he was fascinated that you were in the music capital of america

‘did you see celebrities down the street?’

he asked you excitedly one day during lunch

you stopped then smiled softly

‘semisemi-kun, i didnt live at that part of california’

nah to him, america is just filled with celebrities

OH DEAR BABY BOY KAWANISHI

taichi is a generally quiet guy

like you thought he was actually selectively mute when you first met him

but you gradually got him to talk and you would help him whenever he would want to practice

usually it was during the ungodly hours of the morning

you woke up and went to grab a drink from the common room but you noticed his large build exiting the door so you followed him into the gym

‘kawanishi-san?’

you called out and felt guilty when he jumped 

‘oh, hey’

he aknowledged

‘wha-’

you stopped to yawn causing your eyes to close making you miss the brief second of softness that flashed in his eyes

‘what are you doing?’

you tiredly asked

taichi dusted off his trackpants after kneeling down to rummage through his bag and you couldnt help but gawk at his height

‘im training early’

he answered

‘why? is it because you want to keep up with the others?’

you mumbled and he was surprised for a second but reverted back to his stoic expression

‘i have to make sure i am able to reach my seniors level for next year’

taichi turned away to grab a stray ball and you moved to go to the storage room for the ball cart

‘oi, what are you doing? go back to bed’

he said from the other side of the gym but you just looked back at him with a tired grin

‘meh, i want to spend time with you, senpai’

you reasoned

he shook his head before walking over to you then ruffled your hair

‘no wonder youre so tiny. you dont sleep enough and let your body grow’

yep that was the closest youve gotten to taichi joking with you

usually, hes training and when hes in the zone, nothing else has his attention but the ball

maybe thats why the others ahem goshiki has said that he was very scary

his game face was practically a mean face

basically you spent the entire training camp with them and then soon, you were going back to school

duh everyone hmm maybe not shirabu bc he most definitely read the school book of rules thought you would be going to shiratorizawa with them 

but you broke the news to them one afternoon and imagine the tears from both tendo and goshiki

‘WHHYYYY!!!!’

‘NOOO!!!!!’

‘why can’t you?’

semi asked and you were about to answer when shirabu beat you to it

‘the school doesnt allow late transfers’

oh right

the american school system was set in a different schedule than a japanese school system

it was considered the summer for them yet school already started a few months ago

since shiratorizawa was a very academically and physically prestigious school, they refused anyone who would potentially be late or behind their curriculum

‘so where ya headed to then, chibi?’

tendou pouted and you leaned against his arm

‘hmm some school named aoba johsai? i dont know its near my grannie’s so that’s all that mattered’

oh dear

USHIJIMA NO Y/N WILL NOT ASK TOORU TO GO TO SHIRATORIZAWA

they consider seijoh a rival bc theyve played against them practically in every prefecture tournament and they were worried for that infamous setter

‘ne, y/n-chan, promise us that you won’t be swept away by them! especially a guy named oikawa tooru!’

uhhh

well

tendou’s warning was kinda ignored bc you ended up being seijoh’s manager

hehe

surprise?

but they weren’t really really shocked tho bc they knew you liked volleyball so you would naturally be in the volleyball team

even as a manager

meanwhile in seijohhh

OooOOOoOoOooooo sEiJOOhHHHH~~~~~~

okay so you were actually registered under your father’s last name usui rather than the ushijima last name

therefore you werent exactly immediately known as HEY! USHIJIMA’S SISTER!

you still became the manager the way you did as mentioned in part 1 

and you still are their adorable baby manager

you were aware of their oikawa’s hatred for wakawaka so you try not to talk about him even though youre literally the closest person to him

was it traitorous? 

maybe

but you actually even help them when they practice

duh the boys are like eyebrow raise emoji 

‘wow youre really into volleyball, huh, manager-chan?’

matsukawa commented and you just smiled

‘hmm, my family likes it so ive picked up a thing or two’

LMAO

little do they know your brother is literally the best volleyball player around and is a member of the under 19 team and your father is a volleyball coach in america and would someday be someone iwaizumi hajime (19) would apprentice under

there was a lot of times you thought you would slip up like your home screen was of you and waka but youve been careful to cover it up

BUT

you cant always be sneaky

it was during the first day of the tournament and you were filling up their water bottles I SWEAR WHY IS MANAGER-CHAN ALWAYS FILLING UP WATER BOTTLES when you found a familiar bunch of boys at the end of the hallway just chatting

you havent seen tendou and the boys in so long so you placed the bottles down and rushed over there so quickly

‘TOMUTOMU!’

you shouted and the oddly-haired boy turned and he gasped before grabbing you into a large hug

this grabbed tendou’s attention and he cheered then hugged you too

your giggles and happy cheers were so infectous and they just absolutely missed you so much 

these tall boys were at a advantage so someone scooped you up and you were just affectionately being talked to and hugged and LKDSJFSLDFJ SO LUCKY SO LOVED

meanwhile

the plant babies were wondering where the heck you went to 

‘y/n-chan?! where is she?!’

oikawa panicked quickly while iwaizumi hit him to shut up

‘be quiet! you won’t find her if you’re too busy freaking out!’

‘ill find her’

matsukawa volunteered and they nodded, feeling at ease of him being capable to find you if you were in trouble

but when he returned empty-handed and with large eyes, they knew something was up

they ran behind mattsun to stop and copy his shocked expression at the sight in front of them

is that

you?

with

shi

ra

to

ri

za

wa

oh my god

‘y/n-chan!’

oikawa shouted, being the first to speak

you jumped and your own eyes widened

‘oh. oh no’

you mumbled

the others were so stunned and seijoh itself was so hard to make speechless but they were just shocked

period

‘what is happening’

iwaizumi mumbled

yea the others were just shocked period

‘hey guys’

you waved and you motioned them closer

‘uhh,,, well,,, um they are my friends’

you smiled uneasily and they could see that

‘aaand?’

oikawa signalled you to say everything bc he knew it wasnt the whole story

you sighed

‘ushi,,, jima is my brother’

you mumbled the last part

but they heard you

‘HAH?!’

you cringed and the shira boys were about to move to protect you but they saw you glare at them

‘what? what about it? hes my brother? and?’

you babbled

‘but,, why are you,, in seijoh? dont get me wrong! its just,, youd naturally go to shiratorizawa right?’

mattsun waved his hands around and asked the question thats bugging the team

‘i came to the country late’

‘THE COUNTRY?!’

well,,

turns out you havent exactly told them everything about you yet :/

even when youve cleared the air and introduced waka as your brother, seijoh still didnt say anything

they were stuck in this shocked and surprised moment even at the end of the day and when you went straight to the shiratorizawa team,

they watched with wide eyes as you laughed with goshiki and was jumping around with tendou

‘AH! TOMU! MY HAIR!’

‘TORI-SAN! SATORI-SAN! TAKE THAT!’

wow you were actually really beautiful when youre happy

‘i dont think ive seen her this happy with this much energy’

makki said and they nodded

it was true

you were usually calm and collected and was the perfect balance to this chaotic team

so seeing you so free and loose with them was so refreshing, even if it was with damn ushiwaka

you finally went back to the seijoh boys and they all sent glares to the violet team before sending you a smile

‘you ready to go, manager-chan?’

watari ruffled your hair before handing you your bag to start walking to the bus

‘yea. lets go home’

as you all walked, oikawa was already starting his tantrum

‘y/n-chan~! why aren’t you that happy around us? are we not enough for you?’

oikawa whined and pouted

but you just turned to smiled at him and stopped walking to pat his head

‘im not their manager, therefore im not pressured to act like anyone except as a friend and a spectator. but i try to be as professional as i can with you guys to make sure you dont appear bad to others. and you guys are perfectly chaotic enough, adding me into the mix will just about kill coach’

oikawa didnt seem satisfied though

‘but! thats not fair! they get to see you smile and i dont!’

iwaizumi growled at him to be quiet but you beat him to it

well

you smiled at tooru but your eyes shone maliciously

‘i knew you would act like this, oikawa-san. as punishment, i gave nii-chan your phone number. good luck avoiding him now’

oikawa screamed

a/n: AAWWWWW LETS NOT KILL COACH IRIHATA OKAY? HES LIKE OUR GRANPAPA AND PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LEAVE OIKAWA ALONE WAKAWAKA-KUN!

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! headcanons #aoba johsai #aoba johsai x reader #aoba josai x reader #aoba josai #seijoh #aoba johsai imagines #aoba josai imagines #seijoh imagines #seijoh manager #haikyuu manager #haikyuu!! manager #aoba johsai manager #aoba josai manager #seijoh x reader #aoba johsai headcanons #aoba josai headcanons #seijoh headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #aoba johsai fluff #seijoh fluff #aoba josai fluff