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nathaslosthershit · 1 year ago

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A Much Needed Interview (OP81)

(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.

“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.

‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.

“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”

“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”

“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”

“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time.

“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”

“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.

“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.

“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”

“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.

“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”

“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”

“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”

“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”

“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”

“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”

“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.

“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”

“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”

The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family.

Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.

Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.

“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.

“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?”

In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.

Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.

#formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #op81 fluff #op81 imagine #op81 x reader

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finelinefae · 10 months ago

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the game [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's desperate to play tennis and who better to coach her than her rival

word count: 6.7k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, jealous h, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals

a/n: this is the very first part of a new series that i am soooooo beyond excited to be writing !! it will most likely have 4/5 parts <333 enjoy !!!

. . .

Crestwood Academy was a prestigious boarding school with a mission to cultivate excellence in its students, many of whom went on to achieve great success in their respective fields. Nestled amidst rolling hills and lush greenery, it welcomed only the most accomplished families into its esteemed halls.

Y/N had attended Crestwood Academy since she was five, thanks to her father, who owned a country club and could afford the tuition. Her parents, strict and focused on success, were determined to give her the best education possible so that she could be the very best. Her face was always buried in a book or spending her days in the library, right up until the very last minute of its opening hours.

It was her final year at Crestwood Academy before graduation. Y/N had been set on passing all of her exams at the top of her class so had been working extra hard. She studied English, maths, all three sciences, Latin, French and History as well as tennis.

Y/N's parents had always urged her to pursue a career in the top industries. Despite her efforts to feign interest in that direction, her heart had always belonged to tennis ever since she first took up the sport at Crestwood.

She had competed plenty, winning all the academy trophies and medals. Her parents would visit whenever she competed in finals and congratulated her on winning but saw it as nothing but a hobby to participate in when she wasn’t studying.

However, Y/N couldn’t deny herself the rush of playing knowing she’d have to part with the sport once she graduated. The career path of becoming a doctor was already laid out for her by her parents but she felt destined to follow a different path.

Despite the fact she had applied to dozens of schools to study medicine, she still had one more option that had nothing to do with science at all.

Every year, the academies hosted their own version of a grand slam in which the winning player received a scholarship and three years' worth of training from one of the top tennis academies in the world. Y/N longed to be at the top with the greats and she knew that this competition was the only way she could get there.

For the most part, Y/N had been self-taught. She watched videos online and took notes from the Wimbledon matches she’d see on the television. Crestwood only had one sports coach who focused most of their time on the football team so if she was going to win the scholarship, she needed the very best.

She sat on the bleachers, her book open in front of her, but her attention was drawn to the man on the court. The player’s movements were fluid and powerful, each action deliberate and precise. Yet, it was another man who held her gaze—a figure with an impassive expression, focused solely on his player.

When the match was over, Y/N slammed her book shut and walked towards the court after the players shook hands. Her eyes looked down at the limp in his step as he walked towards the cooler to grab a water bottle.

It had been a while since she had last seen him. She remembered the proud look on his parent’s faces when he was pulled out of Crestwood eighteen months ago and went on to win a grand slam in Australia. She could still feel the intense jealousy that filled her as she watched the match on television whilst studying for her chemistry test that he was also supposed to sit had he stayed.

Now he was here, back to his roots and maybe it had been fate because what she was about to ask him would determine her own path in the tennis career she longed for.

His hair was slightly longer now, his brunette, touseled curls were swept to the side in a loose, dishevelled manner. He wore sunglasses to cover his eyes from the sunlight and a navy tracksuit paired with white vans.

Seeing him brought back the once competitive emotions she had whenever she’d see him strut about the courts every lunchtime but she’d have to suppress those emotions, especially for what she was about to ask him.

“Excuse me, Harry?” Y/N called out.

He took a water bottle from the cooler and flicked off the cap before holding it to his lips and gulping it down. Y/N waited, crossing her arms as she did. “I’ve been waiting for you to show up.” Was the first thing he said.

Y/N didn’t know what to say. It was unexpected to know that he had been waiting to see her, “I didn’t know you were part of the furniture on these courts,” He smirks and Y/N’s jaw ticks. “And you still sit in the exact same spot on those bleachers, to what? Admire me?”

Y/N bristled at Harry's cocky remark, her irritation bubbling to the surface. "Hardly," she retorted, her tone sharp. "I have better things to do than waste my time watching you play."

Harry chuckled, his smirk widening as he leaned against the cooler. "Is that so? Then what brings you here?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Come to get an autograph?”

Y/N squared her shoulders, determined not to let his arrogance get under her skin. "I was actually hoping to talk to you about something," she replied, her voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in her stomach.

Harry raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Oh? And what might that be?" he inquired, his gaze piercing as he studied her intently.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N gathered her courage and suppressed her pride, "I want you to coach me," she blurted out, her words hanging in the air between them.

Harry made no effort to hide the surprise on his face but it quickly melted into a cocky smirk, “You want me to coach you? I thought you hated me?”

“I do,” She replies quickly. She’d hated him ever since he had humiliated her in a battle of the sexes tennis tournament when they were young despite the fact she had little chance of winning against him anyway. “But I don’t have to like you to recognise your talent and right now you're the best and only coach I can get if I’m going to win that scholarship,”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Your parents still want you to study medicine?” Something flickered in his eyes that Y/N couldn’t put her finger on.

Y/N wasn’t going to give him an answer even though it was obvious, “This is the only chance I get to escape it,” She mutters, “I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

He glanced around before taking a step forward. She was tempted to step back at the same time but she didn’t want to seem intimidated by him so stood her ground. From this proximity, she noticed how much taller he was compared to her - almost an entire foot.

“What’s in it for me?” He asked.

Y/N knew he’d ask which was why she spent so much time figuring out what she could tell him to make it worthwhile. “I know about your injury,” She says and he stills.

“Everyone knows about my injury.” He grumbles.

It had been a spectacle in the world of tennis. The new grand slam winner loses out on his second after a fatal injury at the French Open. Y/N remembered seeing him rolling on the ground, holding onto his leg as paramedics ran onto the court to aid him.

“People think you’re a one-hit wonder since you’re out for the season,” His jaw clenched as she spoke, “But if you coach me and get me to win, I guarantee you’ll be out on the court again - back where you belong,”

“You think an academy league game can get my back onto the court?”

“No, but it's a start and maybe I’ll be competing alongside you the next time you’re playing.”

There was a moment of silence as Harry absorbed her words, his gaze searching hers for any hint of insincerity. Finding none, he let out a heavy sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Fine," he relented, his voice tinged with resignation. "You want me to coach you? Prove you’re worth coaching.”

He walked over to the barrel of tennis rackets and picked one up. Y/N narrowed her eyes, remembering the last time they had played against each other and how embarrassed she was afterwards.

“But you’re-”

“One game won’t hurt,” He said before she could finish.

She followed, her steps purposeful as she reached for a racket, flipping it over in her hands as she strode to the other end of the court. Despite being clad in her school uniform—a pleated skirt, white shirt with the school crest, and loafers that threatened to slide off her feet—she was determined to prove herself. She'd show him she was worth his time, that she was a far better tennis player than he gave her credit for.

As they took their positions on opposite ends of the court, the tension between them crackled in the air. Y/N gripped her racket tightly, her focus sharp as she prepared to face off against Harry once again.

The first serve sliced through the air, the sound echoing as the ball hurtled towards Y/N. She moved with fluidly, her muscles tensing as she returned the serve.

Harry's response was swift, his movements confident as he returned the ball with a well-placed shot that left Y/N scrambling to keep up. Even with his injury, he still held the precision of a professional. But she refused to back down, her determination driving her to match him shot for shot, rally after rally.

The game intensified as they traded blows, each point reflecting their skills and determination. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she fought to keep pace with Harry, her mind focused solely on the ball. Both Y/N and Harry vocally exerted their energy through grunts and cries as they hit the ball with all their energy.

Despite her efforts, Harry seemed to anticipate her every move. But Y/N refused to be outdone, drawing on every ounce of strength and skill as she fought to gain the upper hand.

As the game progressed, Harry's skill and experience began to overthrow her. His shots were close to perfect and strategic, leaving Y/N struggling to keep up. Despite her determination, she found herself falling behind as Harry continued to dominate the match.

In the end, it was Harry who emerged victorious, his final shot landing just beyond Y/N's reach with a satisfying thud. As the ball bounced out of the court, Y/N knew that she had been outplayed.

She rested her hands on her knees, hunched over as she tried to regain her breath. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed that she’d lost despite the fact she was at a disadvantage anyway.

Harry’s shadow fell over her but she refused to look up just yet. He spoke anyway, “You’ve gotten better since the last time I saw you,” He spoke, holding a cold water bottle in front of her face.

She took it, the plastic crackling under her fingers, “You can just say you’re not going to do it,” She mumbled, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig of water.

“I’ll coach you,” He says, “Meet me here at 6 pm tomorrow.”

Y/N finally looked up, her mouth parted, only to find his back facing her as he walked away from the courts.

. . .

Harry had no idea what he had agreed to in coaching Y/N at tennis.

He sat in his luxurious apartment ten minutes away from Crestwood Academy, surrounded by furniture wrapped in plastic or still in cardboard boxes.

He sat on the couch with his feet resting on the coffee table in front of him and a glass of whiskey in his hand. The TV was playing quietly in front of him but his mind was on the girl he had spent the majority of his life competing with.

She had grown since the last time he had seen her before he graduated and left the country to compete in the Australian Open. Her long, tanned legs were on show beneath the grey school skirt she had been wearing. He couldn’t seem to get the image of the visible muscles in her calves out of his mind as she moved across the court to hit the ball during their impromptu tennis match.

Despite their personal differences, Harry couldn't resist her. There was an undeniable thrill in riling her up, in watching her reactions to the smallest digs. They had once been friends, back when Y/N would trail after him on the playground, eager to understand how to hit a ball with a tennis racket. But as she began competing in school competitions, she quickly learned that beating him was an impossible feat.

He wasn’t surprised to see her watching him on the court today, in fact, it amused him. Whether she liked it or not, he would always look out in the bleachers for her whenever he’d play during his time at the academy. Her reactions were what kept him going, some might even say made him better.

But, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was surprised to see her so brazenly asking him to coach her. He could tell by her reaction that it was killing her inside, to be coached by him when all she’d done was pick apart his technique, but it was clear she was desperate and Harry knew it was because of her parents.

Harry had had his fair dose of strict parentage. When he was told he could no longer play tennis for the season, his parents shipped him straight back to Crestwood to finish his final year since he never actually graduated.

He loathed them for it, barely saying a word to them as they paid the rent in cash for his apartment and left him with boxes to unpack on his own. He knew they were disappointed in him despite the fact the injury was no fault of his own, they could barely look at him as they left, closing the door behind them.

It was embarrassing. How could he have gone from being at the top of his game to the very bottom? Now he was back in the place he had turned his back on, feeling like he was back to square one all over again.

Harry’s thoughts were broken by the sound of his phone ringing. The name of his best friend since he was born lit up the screen.

“What?” Harry answered the call, his train of thought forming a particular level of intolerance in him.

“Hey, is that any way to talk to your best friend?” Mitch replied along with the sound of loud chattering in the background because he always had to be somewhere with someone.

“Sorry,” Harry huffed, “Long day.”

“Already? You’ve not even started classes yet,” Mitch chuckled.

“Don’t remind me,” Harry hadn’t even begun thinking about being back in classrooms and having to put up with kids his age berating him with questions he didn’t want to answer. Tomorrow would be his first day back and he was dreading it.

“C’mon now, don’t be too glum about it, haven’t you missed me?”

“No,” Harry lied.

“I know you well enough now to know when you’re lying.” Mitch laughed down the phone.

A hint of a smile grazed Harry’s lips, "Whatever," he replied, his tone gruff but lacking conviction. Despite his attempt to feign disinterest, a part of him couldn't deny the truth in Mitch's words. There had been many moments he had experienced after leaving school when he missed the company of people his own age. Everyone around him was older than he was and spoke to him as though he was some prized trophy that needed to be handled with caution. He’d spend evenings by the pool by himself, watching the sunset and wishing his friends were there to celebrate his win with him.

"I'll take that as a yes," Mitch teased, “I know the boys will be happy to have y’ back and I can introduce you to Sarah. I think Molly Brown still has a thing for you as well by the way, talks about you all the fuckin’ time.” Harry listened to his friend ramble about all the things he had missed in the last year or so but his mind seemed to travel elsewhere.

His eyes wandered around the room, his ear still pressed to his phone, until they landed on an open box with a picture frame resting on top. He recognized the photo immediately, even without picking it up, because he had kept it hidden in his old dorm desk. In the picture, a group of eight students—four boys and four girls—smiled at the camera, with Harry standing at the back and Y/N right beside him.

. . .

Y/N slammed the door of her locker shut after pulling out her workbooks for her next class. Students bustled down the hallways of Crestwood Academy, wearing their navy blazers and uniform for another week of school.

“Have you seen him yet?” Sarah, Y/N’s best friend, came out of nowhere and stood in front of her.

“Seen who?” Y/N remained indifferent even though she knew who Sarah was referring to.

Everyone had been talking about Harry since she had walked into school from her dorm room this morning. It was the main topic of conversation, everyone’s eyes darting around the hallways to try and find him.

“You know,” Sarah nudged her, “The boy you’ve spent most of your life in a one-sided rivalry with?”

“One-sided? It’s a mutual hatred,” Y/N argued.

Sarah gave her a look before continuing, “I texted Mitch twenty minutes ago but he hasn’t replied. I know I’ve met Harry before but this is the first time I’ll be meeting him as Mitch’s girlfriend and I don’t want it to change anything.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, “Sarah, just because he’s the winner of a grand slam doesn’t make his opinion of you any more important. Whether Harry likes you or not, everyone knows you and Mitch are perfect for each other.”

Y/N remembered the first time her friend had told her she was seeing Mitch. He had taken her out to dinner a few times and Sarah had come back to their shared dorm swooning and unable to stop herself from rambling the rest of the night about how romantic and funny he was.

Y/N had never experienced anything like that in her life, too busy focusing on tennis and academia to find herself in relationships, but she was happy her best friend was happy and that was all that mattered to her.

“I know but he’s important to Mitch. They’ve been best friends since infants and… that’s not all I’m worried about,” Sarah looked at Y/N pointedly.

“What?”

“Now that Mitch and I are together, that means we’ll be spending more time around each other which also means…” Sarah didn’t have to finish her sentence for Y/N to understand what she was trying to get at.

“Oh n-no! No way! Sarah, are you being serious right now?” Y/N whined, “You want me to get along with Harry just because you’re dating his best friend?”

“You don’t have to but it would be nice if you did,” Her voice trailed off at the end, her eyes looking at her pleadingly, “I’m not asking you to be best friends, I’m just asking you not to chew his head off when we’re all in the same room together.”

Y/N wanted to argue and tell her she wouldn’t be able to chew his head off anyway because she needed him to coach her for the scholarship but an arm slid around Sarah’s waist and interrupted their conversation.

Sarah grinned, turning to look up at her boyfriend who was now standing beside her, “Hey babe,” Mitch smiled.

“You’re here,” Sarah craned her neck to kiss his lips, “I texted you forever ago and you never replied.

Mitch scoffed, “It was twenty minutes ago and I didn’t have time to check my phone, too busy dragging this one through the front gates.”

Out of the corner of Y/N's eye, another figure appeared. She didn’t have to look to see who it was, the sudden surge of annoyance within her already gave them away. Her head tilted to the left to look up and see Harry.

He was wearing his school uniform, the same way he always did before he left for Australia. His shirt was untucked, and the top button was undone revealing a gold chain and a white vest underneath, his grey trousers were ironed with not a crinkle in sight and his navy blazer hung casually behind him, hooked by his middle finger.

Y/N’s eyes shifted behind him to find people whispering to each other and groups of girls giggling as they walked past. It was nothing new to see girls getting riled up over him but it had become more intensified now that he had gone abroad and made a name for himself. Despite his injury preventing him from playing, Y/N was certain that even if Harry had lost every game and embarrassed himself on live television, people would still adore him.

“Hey Harry,” Sarah offered a kind smile.

“Hi Sarah, nice to see you again. Glad to know Mitch was in good hands whilst I was away,” Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder before turning to Y/N.

“Only the very best,” Mitch pulled Sarah into his side before motioning to Y/N, “You remember Sarah’s best friend Y/N right?”

“Hmmm, aren’t you the one who lost the Junior tennis competition to me a few years ago?” Harry smirked.

Y/N's jaw clenched, but she managed to force a smile. "I could be, but aren’t you the one who they recorded rolling around on the floor like a big baby at the French Open last year?" Her retort was sharp, aimed directly at Harry.

Harry's eyes narrowed in response, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. Y/N felt a sense of satisfaction at having gotten such a reaction from him. "Welcome back to Crestwood," she added, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Mitch and Sarah exchanged weary glances, sensing the tension between Y/N and Harry.

"Quite a welcome. I’ve already been asked to coach someone and I’ve only been back a week," Harry remarked, his gaze still fixed on Y/N, who met his stare with a glare of her own.

"You have?" Mitch frowned, his confusion evident.

"Who?" Sarah asked, equally perplexed.

Harry's eyes remained locked on Y/N, giving them their answer. "You asked him to coach you?" Sarah questioned her confusion mirroring Mitch's.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny, "Yeah, I did," she admitted reluctantly, her gaze flickering briefly to Harry before returning to Mitch and Sarah.

"Why would you ask him to coach you?" Sarah asked, her brow furrowing in confusion, “You argue all the time,”

Y/N hesitated, “I need to win the scholarship to the tennis academy in London and Harry’s the only person here who knows how to play the game.”

“Glad to know I was the pick of the bunch,” Harry’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“I thought you were applying to go to UCL?” Sarah frowned.

“I was but you know how much the game means to me and my parents refuse to believe it’s more than just a hobby. This is the only chance I’ll get to prove them wrong and the only option to get me out of studying medicine.” Y/N explained.

Sarah’s eyes softened, she too was no stranger to how strict Y/N’s parents could be. “Which is why she needs me,” Y/N felt the weight of his arm rest across her shoulders, “Right, love?”

Y/N spun around to face Harry, eyes sharp, “Don’t call me that,” She hissed, seeing the satisfied grin on his face.

He shrugged, “But I always call you that,”

Ever since they were teenagers, when the rivalry first began, Harry had opted to calling Y/N ‘love’ knowing how much it riled her up. To some, it was a term of endearment but in the world of tennis the word ‘love’ meant one thing.

‘Nil, ‘Zero’, ‘Loser’.

Y/N hated the way he spoke it too - accentuating each letter of the word to drag it out for as long as he could just to annoy her further.

She stepped forward, “Call me that one more time,” She threatened.

“Or what?” He tilted his head to the side.

“Guys seriously, break it up,” Sarah intervened, “Aren’t you supposed to be getting along if you’re going to be spending more time together.”

Y/N hated the thought of it but knew she was right. If she wanted Harry to coach her, she couldn’t go around screwing things up by arguing with him. If he was going to coach her at the sport, she’d have to coach herself in controlling her attitude around him.

“C’mon Sarah, let’s go to class,” Y/N hooked arms with her best friend, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

“Oh okay, bye Mitch.” Sarah kissed her boyfriend before she was dragged down the hallway in a hurry.

Harry watched as Y/N practically sprinted down the hallway with Sarah in tow. He felt the need to call out of her for one last dig just so she would turn around and he’d see her face before she rounded the corner, “See you on the courts, love.” He called down to her.

As he had hoped, Y/N’s head whipped around to glare at him along with her middle finger, “Asshole!” She called back.

Harry chuckled to himself, “That face,” he murmured.

Mitch placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “You’ve got it in for yourself with that one, lad.” Mitch said.

“Tell me about it,” Harry replied, his eyes still on the place he’d last seen Y/N.

Maybe returning to Crestwood wouldn’t be so bad after all.

. . .

With Harry back, Y/N had suspected the day would be a drag with everyone constantly bringing him up in every conversation, but the first half of the day had gone well. Y/N was easily used to her classes by now and was still top of the class in all of them.

During lunch period, Y/N always sat with Sarah in the library where they’d catch up on what they missed out on each other’s lives or study during exam season. It was nice to have some reprieve during the school hours and whenever she was with Sarah, Y/N could talk for hours and hours.

Now that Sarah was dating Mitch, Y/N and Sarah would spend their lunch with his friends in the lunch hall. Y/N didn’t mind it so much having grown used to being around Mitch’s friends despite their loud and boisterous personalities.

However, today she was dreading the fact that now her lunchtimes would also include being around the person she wanted to spend as little amount of time with as possible.

“Can’t we just eat in the library today? Please?” Y/N pulled on the sleeve of her best friend's blazer as she begged her to turn back in the direction of the library. She could already picture Harry’s annoying smirk the closer they got to the entrance of the lunch hall.

“Y/N you’re being dramatic. It’s just an hour, I’m sure you can survive being around him that long.” Sarah continued to tug her down the hallway.

“Sarah I already have to spend enough time as it is,” Now that she asked him to be her coach. The more the day went by the more she was starting to regret her decision.

Sarah spun on her heel, “Think of this as practice then,” Her eyes looked past Y/N’s shoulder, “Look, there they are,” She moved past her and beelined towards their table where Y/N saw Mitch, Jake and Adam already sitting along with that head of brunette curls that Y/N just wanted to tear out every time she saw him.

Sighing, she followed Sarah and approached the table responding to everyone’s friendly greetings until she got to Harry, “You’re in my seat,” She spoke after realising all the seats were taken.

Harry didn’t bother to look around, that stupid grin plastered to his face when he looked up at her, “Am I?”

Y/N gritted her teeth, “Yes,”

“Hmm,” He swivelled around to look at the back of the chair, “I don’t see your name anywhere.”

A wave of chuckles rippled around the table but Y/N had yet to find the amusement in it. “She does always sit there, H.” Mitch chuckles, “Just grab another chair from a different table.”

Harry leant back against the seat and crossed one leg over his thigh, “But I quite like this seat.”

“I’m not moving until you get out of my seat,” Y/N crossed her arms, refusing to give in to him.

“Well you’re going to be stood up for a long time and y’ need those legs for later,” Harry smirked, “Or you could just sit here,” He unfolded his legs and motioned towards his lap, “Still your seat.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched but before she could respond, Adam chuckled and stood up, “Here,” He picked another chair up from an empty table and set it down next to him, “Y’ can sit here Y/N.”

She was tempted to refuse and continue to nag Harry for the rest of lunch but decided against it, not wanting to waste her energy on him. Her eyes softened at Adam’s kindness, “Thanks, Adam.” She sat beside him.

Harry’s smirk seemed to falter when Y/N sat down, watching as Adam looked at Y/N even as she turned to face the others.

“Is that Molly Brown looking at y’ again Harry?” Jake, who Y/N considered the loudest one of Mitch’s friends, leant over the table to speak lowly to Harry even though it was impossible for him to ever be so quiet.

Harry forced himself to look away from Adam before he burnt holes into him. “She’s been after him since fifth year,” Mitch chuckled.

“Y’ think you’ll let her have it this year, H?” Jake takes a spoonful of his lunch and swallows it down.

“Have what?” Sarah frowned, confused.

“Nothing you need to know about, babe,” Mitch replies, opening her waterbottle for her after she silently handed it to him.

“I’ve never been interested in Molly,” Harry quickly replies but his ears prick when he hears Y/N laughing quietly with Adam.

“Mind if I take my chances then?” Jake asks, “I’ve always wanted to date a cheerleader,”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Harry shakes him off, “What about you Adam?” He gets the attention from both Y/N and Adam as they look up, “Don’t you have a thing for Molly?”

Adam furrows his brows, “Molly Brown? Maybe in like third year,” He chuckles, “I’m not interested in anyone at the moment.”

Harry wants to laugh in his face, “Y’ sure about that?”

Adam frowns but Y/N quickly interrupts them, “People are allowed to have other interests you know.”

Harry feels that rush of excitement when she speaks run through his body, “Is this a touchy subject for you?”

Y/N scowls, “No, I’m just saying Adam doesn’t need to be interested in girl’s all the time.”

“Well maybe Adam can speak for himself,” Harry quips.

“Lord save me,” Jake mumbles and Sarah laughs.

“Well what about you? Have you managed to sink your fangs into anyone?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N gapes, “I’ve dated plenty of people,”

The image unsettles Harry but he takes the opportunity to tease Y/N further. "Plenty of people, huh?" he echoes.

Y/N's cheeks flush slightly, "I mean... well, not plenty, but a few," she stammers.

But Harry doesn't let up, "Oh, really?" he presses, "Care to share? I'm sure we'd all love to hear about the few men who you’ve tempted."

Y/N shoots him a glare, knowing full well that Harry was onto her. "I... uh, well," she stumbles over her words, searching for a way to change the subject.

But before she can respond, Adam jumps in. "Come on, Harry, give her a break," he glowers.

“Yeah, Y/N’s just waiting for the right guy and there’s nothing wrong with that,” Sarah pipes in, always one to have her best friend’s back.

Harry raises an eyebrow, his gaze flickering between Y/N and Adam before settling on Y/N, who shifts uncomfortably. Sensing the tension, Mitch swiftly changes the subject to something else.

. . .

After lunch, Y/N made her way to her next class with Adam walking alongside her. Out of all of Mitch’s friends, she got on the most with Adam to the point where Sarah was constantly pestering her over considering a date with him but Y/N didn’t see him as any more than a good friend. He was quiet and kept to himself for the most part, excelling in the arts and playing bass guitar in a band on weekends. Y/N enjoyed the calmness he brought to the group especially with the others being so loud all the time.

“What do you think?” Adam asked, holding the strap of his backpack in one hand as it hung over his right shoulder.

“What do I think about what?” Y/N frowned.

“You know, Harry being back. I know you two didn’t always get along,” He explained.

Y/N scoffed, “If it weren’t for the fact he’s coaching me for the Academy Slam, I would be praying to whatever God that’d listen to send him back to Australia,” Which was also the furthest possible country he could be away from her.

Adam chuckled, “He told us earlier he’d be coaching you,”

Y/N scowled, “I bet he couldn’t get enough of it,”

“Actually he seemed pretty happy about it. We haven’t seen him that happy since he got back from Australia.”

“Really? Maybe that injury did something to his head,”

“What makes you hate him so much anyway?” Adam asked.

Y/N sighed. It was a question she heard often but never had a solid answer for. She couldn't quite explain why she disliked Harry so much. Maybe it was because he had things she wanted, and jealousy often turned into hatred. But there was something more, something she couldn't quite pin down.

Despite her dislike, Y/N went to all of Harry's matches, and she watched them on TV too. Even when she tried to stay in her room, her legs seemed to move on their own, taking her to the courts to watch him play. She hated that part of her rooted for him, and she couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was because Harry had been the first person to teach her how to play and she felt some sense of loyalty to that but she had no perfect answer even though she wished for one.

“His face annoys me,” Y/N says.

“That’s it?” Adam snickers.

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugs, “We’ve always had this rivalry that stemmed out of nowhere but I can’t even remember how it started.”

“You don’t have feelings for him do you?” The question came out of nowhere and took Y/N completely off-guard.

"What? No!" Y/N's response came out a little too quickly, and she hoped her cheeks hadn't betrayed her by turning red.

Adam shrugged. "Just making sure," he said casually. "You know, some people get them mixed up—love and hate."

Y/N furrowed her brow, genuinely puzzled. "How is that even possible?"

"Well, they're both intense emotions, aren't they?" He mused. "And sometimes, when you feel strongly about someone, whether it's love or hate, it can blur the lines between the two."

Y/N pondered his words, a sense of unease settling in her stomach, "No way," she replied firmly, shaking her head. "I may not like him, but there's definitely no love there."

Adam chuckled, sensing her defensiveness. "Alright, that’s good," he said with a grin.

Y/N felt a hint of a smile on her lips, “What does that mean? That’s good?”

Adam shrugged, still smiling, “Jus’ saying,” He spoke and Y/N laughed.

Her gaze flicked from Adam's to Harry, who stood in the hallway with Molly Brown, her brunette waves tied up in the perfect, slicked back ponytail. Hoping to slip by unnoticed, she quickened her pace, but it was too late. Harry's eyes locked onto hers, then shifted to Adam. She caught the subtle twitch of his jaw before he pushed off the wall, ignoring Molly, and strode toward them.

Adam must not have noticed Harry coming towards them because he quickly bid goodbye so he could rush to his literature class. Y/N picked up her pace but Harry was already by her side, “Do you like him?” Harry asked.

“Who Adam? Well let’s see, he’s nice and smart and doesn’t feel the need to open his mouth every five seconds unlike some people I know, so yeah I do like him.”

Harry scoffed, “He’s a little boring don’t you think?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry's comment, a retort already forming on her lips. "Nice of you to say that about your own best friend," she quipped. "Makes me wonder what you say about me."

Before she could say anything more, she gasped in surprise as Harry tugged on her hand and swiftly spun her around until her back was against the row of lockers. Her heart raced as he stepped forward, blocking her in, and dipped his head closer to hers.

"I think we need some ground rules for this whole coaching thing," Harry murmured, his voice low. "If you're planning on winning, I recommend using your time more wisely instead of wasting it on nice boys."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she processed his words. "Is that a rule or are you asking me not to date anyone?" she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Both," Harry replied, his tone unwavering.

Her mind raced, unsure how to respond, "What about you then?" she countered.

"Is that a personal request?" Harry's smirk widened, his gaze locking onto hers. "Because I'm the coach, and I set the ground rules so anything you ask me to do is because you want me to do it."

Y/N's heart pounded louder in her ears as Harry's proximity sent heat coursing through her, "It's only fair," she replied, her voice barely audible.

Harry chuckled softly. "Fine, if it makes you happy. But I’m not interested in dating nice girls or boys anyway," he remarked with a smirk.

Y/N swallowed, her curiosity piqued. "What are you interested in?"

He smirked, "The game," he replied cryptically.

With that, he moved away from her, his eyes lingering on her lips for a moment before he turned and walked down the hallway, “See you tonight, love.” He called back.

As the sound of his footsteps faded, Y/N stood there, stunned and unable to move. She was grateful that no one had witnessed the exchange as she pulled out her compact, trying to compose herself and hide the flush of embarrassment that coloured her cheeks.

As she hurried to class, already five minutes late, Y/N couldn't shake the intensity of her encounter with Harry. Sitting by the window, her mind wandered as the teacher lectured the class, her gaze drifting to the courts outside where she'd soon be training with him this evening.

This coach-student dynamic had unlocked a new territory between them, something unpredictable that Y/N had no choice but to delve into for the months ahead.

Yet, it was her only choice. Harry was the only way she could win and she’d push through whatever feelings she had to get what she wanted.

She’d play the game, just as he wanted her to.

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

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hi mei! i absolutely love your stories! you’re a really great writer 🥰

i was wondering if u’d be interested in doing a hotch drabble about him with a s/o who seems really intimidating but is actually really soft and sweet?

like maybe it’s her appearance that makes the team intimidated by her—edgy clothing and dark makeup and stuff—when she shows up to hang out with hotch on his lunch breaks. and she’s like ‘i feel like your team doesn’t like me :(‘ and he’s like ‘honey, they’re borderline scared of you’ but it’s fluffy.

if you don’t wanna that’s totally okay! i did a bad job explaining but i’m sure you’d do an amazing job :)

love ya!! hope ur having a good day

Aaron loves when you visit him at the office for lunch, but you don't look like you're in high spirits yourself. When you sit down its with a huff and a hiss of the chair accommodating your weight, only adding to your dramatics.

"This might be my career in profiling speaking," Aaron begins, his voice soft in case something is terribly wrong, "But something tells me you're not having a good day, sweetheart."

"You're good," You tease him, and he wishes you could laugh about it together, "Aaron, I think Doctor Reid is afraid of me."

Aaron has to bite his tongue not to laugh. Doctor Reid is afraid of buffets, he thinks, but it's not an abundance of germs that unnerves Spencer about you, it's- well, it's everything he knows about you.

"Honey," Aaron calls upon that sweet tone again, "He doesn't know you very well."

"You didn't deny it!" You groan, falling back into your chair and abandoning your soup on his desk, "I knew it. What did I do?"

Aaron looks into your eyes, black-lined and sharp. He watches you chew on your cheek, your black-stained lips moved by the nervous quirk. Below your tense jaw is a chain that rests against your neck, not a full choker but not loose, either. It nearly disappears into the hem of your jacket, black leather that falls over a rather graphic old band tee.

"It's not what you've done," Aaron explains tentatively, "It's probably- well, how you look."

Your nose scrunches, and Aaron marvels the fact that you seem to have forgotten your appearance, "How do I look?"

"Like a doberman pinscher in human form," Aaron bites off a corner of his sandwich, chewing it in lieu of pressing the matter further.

"I like dobermans." You supply weakly, "Why is he afraid of me?"

"You're just not what he's used to," Aaron sighs, swallowing his mouthful and leaning across the desk, hand outstretched, "He probably thinks you could dismember him with those nails."

You place your palm in Aaron's own, and he flips your hand around to showcase the rather impressively sharp acrylics you're sporting.

"And your boots are heavier than he is, I guarantee it," Aaron nods down at your thick-soled black boots, ones that give away your entrance from a mile away by the sound of their rubber hitting the ground.

"He's just..." Aaron searches for the right word, trying not to disparage you or Reid, "Skittish. You should talk to him, though, honey. He likes science, and literature, and Star Trek. Pick something from one of those categories, and I promise he'll never stop talking to you for the rest of your life."

You're mostly satisfied, but you let your hand rest in Aaron's for a moment longer, and he'd be a fool to drop it.

"Am I scary, Aaron?" You ask earnestly, and his smile is warm as he brings your hand to his mouth to kiss at your knuckles.

"Not to me. And not to anyone who knows you," He promises, "But... it is nice to not have to worry about carrying a gun when we go out together."

"Aaron!" You laugh, "I'm not a weapon!"

"You could be!" Aaron insists, tugging your hand over to his lunch and dragging your fingernail across his sandwich, "Here, honey, cut it for me, would you? They forgot to give us knives."

"Stop!" You insist, but your laughter gives you away as you turn back to your soup with burning cheeks, "Just you wait, Aaron. As soon as Penelope stops running whenever I enter a room, we're gonna talk shit about you for this."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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birdsandbeetlesandmoths · 2 months ago

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So. Sonic 3. That was. certainly. hoo boy *collapses to the sound of a metal pipe falling*

Spoilers and thoughts under cut (LONG POST)

Well, my pre-movie post was SO WRONG. I think most stobotnik fans were, thinking that Stone would be the one dying. I- truly wasn’t expecting it.

I’ll get back to that in a second, let me get all of my silly things out of the way/the things i was hype about/had to crush my partner and friend’s hands about while witnessing.

The antics between Gerald and Ivo were expected but oh my GOD JIM CARREY. you are a national treasure, have fun in retirement. we will miss you greatly, but this being your final movie (probably) is a great thing to culminate your absolutely stunning career.

Anyway, their dance sequence was fucking insane, and as much as I was cringing, I was grinning through it too. The fight on the Eclipse cannon was also questionable BUT HOLY FUCK NOW I GET THE PRAYING MANTIS/FLY REFERENCE. (Thank god it wasn’t directly about stone and robotnik but i’m already cooking how i can connect them). Spanking? Also in my Sonic movie. But yeah.

Gerald and Ivo could never be more alike in intellect, but different in morals. Evident through Gerald’s fixation on avenging his daughter with no remorse or thought for whoever will get in the way, throwing away Ivo and the whole of the world as a result). He’s willing to kill himself, but as Shadow says and believes, that isn’t what Maria would have wanted.

I used to not like the Wachowskis. I was already a little unsettled when the first movie released by the fact that characters unrelated to previous Sonic media were being utilized as major plot elements, but during the second and third movies, I began to absolutely love them.

This third movie cemented that love. The father-son relationship between Tom and Sonic specifically. My heart was aching in the first scene at their little campsite, Happy BEarthday, and their heart-to-heart in Sonic’s old cave, talking about Choice (an analysis incoming) and that you always have a choice, and that your lungs (heart) will help you find the right one.

I think this movie might’ve done. One of the best jobs of displaying found family. The sibling relationship between Tails, Knuckles, and Sonic was the most heartrendingly beautiful and achingly real thing I’ve seen in a while. And it really hits you, the fact that they’re kids.

And the amount of silly little jokes, Tails having his gadgetry and Knuckles with his blunt personality, Sonic tying them all together with his wit and charm, it all became slightly surreal to see. To see something so happy, so delicately real.

Oh my god, on the trio, Knuckles saving both Sonic and Tails from falling to Earth. I was gasping that whole time, truly being sent into the moment. Movies and media rarely do that to me in the emotional sense.

AND AS FOR SHADOW AND MARIA

Holy fuck at least I was right about that part in my pre-movie wishes. I thought it was interesting how they adapted it, and it definitely made for it to be slightly more believable and less complicated.

But oh my gosh them. Skating around the lab, messing around together, introducing Shadow to that great 70s music and dancing, watching movies together and just being kids!! And don’t even get me started on the rooftop scene. Shadow was so vulnerable and self-conscious, and Maria comforted him in a way that touched me. Understands him in a way that no one else ever has, as everyone else only saw him as the experiment and the subject, while she saw him as his own person, with thoughts and emotions and curiosities.

It paralleled Sonic and Tom in the cinematography too, and the sentiment was all the same. That Shadow can choose who he wants to be. (I Am All I Am and Choice. Trust, it’s coming soon)

Maria and Shadow made me unbearably happy. It was all I could’ve ever asked for and more.

Shadow and Sonic were an absolutely crazy duo this show. Dude, in their fight versus each other? Both going Super and absolutely going at it, and Shadow having the absolute gall to accuse Sonic of not caring about his friends, that he was clearly here alone because he abandoned them, and mention Tom, which caused Sonic to go completely over the edge, and actually punch him straight into space and lose his Super.

Sonic and Shadow reconciling over their shared feeling of grief, Sonic sharing his pain, emphasizing the love that will be able to help them heal, Shadow reciprocating, and then Shadow remembering Maria after looking up at the stars, realizing, from Sonic’s words, that this truly wasn’t what Maria wanted, just that whole moon scene between them is living in my head rent free and I need to see it over and over again.

HOLYYY SHIT THEY PLAYED LIVE AND LEARN WHEN SUPER SONIC AND SUPER SHADOW TEAMED UP AND BEAT THE EVER LIVING FUCK OUT OF THOSE ROBOTS. Me and my friends were going so fucking insane in that theater.

Shadow remembering Maria (possibly for the last time) as he sacrifices himself to push the Eclipse cannon away from the place that Maria loved. Remembering all of the good moments, the love between them, that is all he wanted if he was going to leave the world for good. (Well, I mean, he’s still alive, but the amnesia route is still optional)

Sonic actually going slightly insane this movie was also very interesting to watch. His absolute- like, his vision went RED when Shadow mentioned Tom. That was what set him OFFFF. His abuse of the Master Emerald and even threatening his own best friends/siblings over this— god the emphasis of choice in this film I want to sob.

Also, yall already KNOW I WAS BALLING ABOUT THE AKIRA SLIDE, SNAPCUBE REFERENCES, AND EVERY TIME SHADOW BREATHED OR MOVED. Literally could not contain myself from absolutely sob-cry-screaming at Shadow and (Keanu did a great job btw) his entire story, his joy with Maria and his pain all after. (His Super form looked fuck beautiful, a new colorful hue every time I saw it)

All in all, Robotniks were hilarious, Maria and Shadow were beautifully tragic and just generally so so SO adorable and loving. I’m so glad that Tails and Knuckles got more serious appreciation and screen time this movie as well, because as much as Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles were sidelined in this movie (to put forth Robotniks and Shadow, understandably so), it still felt more fulfilling and real than in the second movie. Super forms continue to be beautiful onscreen, I would like to collapse and die from hearing ONE OK ROCK and Live and Learn.

AHEM. Now, clearly, I will be making a separate post solely about Stobotnik. Along with the multiple Stone-centric fics burning a hole in my brain and the choice and grief analyses awaiting my attention. Bear with me as I have SO MANY THOUGHTS.

We won. . . but at what cost.

My friends, my partner, you already know. We died and were promptly revived together in that theater.

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lupinqs · 3 months ago

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CHAPTER THREE ━━ Mia, The Menace

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 4.6K

❀ ━ warnings: none i think

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: sigh another filler i’m sorry guys next chapter is when things actually start happening ….. also will u guys pls lmk if y’all like this series so far bc i feel like i’ve been writing it so shitty i’m sorry 🫠

THE AIR in Jo’s family home feels warmer than she remembers, thick with the lazy ease of summer afternoons in Boston. She’s sprawled out on the couch in the living room, half in Asher’s lap, her back pressed against his chest. The TV hums in the background, some half-forgotten show playing on low volume, but neither of them is paying much attention to it. Instead, their focus is on Mia, Jo’s eight-year-old little sister, who’s commanding the room as she rehearses her dance routine.

The house feels bigger than it ever does when Jo’s parents are home, their absence leaving behind a peculiar stillness that’s only occasionally interrupted by Mia’s bursts of energy. Her parents are celebrating their anniversary weekend in Maine, indulging in some much-deserved quiet while leaving Jo in charge of their youngest child. Jo doesn’t mind; after all, it’s July—her off-month—and she’s back in Boston for a brief stint of home-cooked meals and family chaos before heading back to Storrs in August. Babysitting Mia, however, is proving to be a full-time job in itself—which Jo probably should’ve expected.

Mia’s energy is endless. Right now, she’s twirling and leaping across the living room, her movements surprisingly precise for a kid her age. She’s dressed in a sparkly leotard and pink tights, her hair tied in an elaborate bun she’d made Jo do before this—because, well, if Jo is good for anything, it’s doing hair. During summer sessions, half the team made her do their braids before practice—Paige especially, the blonde hopeless at doing her own—and Jo knows it’ll only get worse when the season starts up.

Jo tries to keep a watchful eye on her sister, but she can’t help but be distracted by her boyfriend. He’s absentmindedly tracing small circles across the middle of her thigh, and she can feel his heart beating against her back. When she glances up at him, she can’t help but grin at the softness of his smile as he claps along with Mia’s haphazard twirls, the way he leans into the couch—into Jo—like he belongs here. Which, he does. He always has.

“Joey!” Mia calls, her voice sharp and commanding for an eight-year-old. She pauses mid-spin to put her hands on her hips, her small frame vibrating with indignation. “You’re not watching!”

Jo blinks, pulling herself out of her thoughts. “I am watching,” she defends, though it’s not quite true. She sits up a little straighter against Asher, nudging him as if to say help me out here. “You’re doing great, Mia. Keep going.”

Mia narrows her eyes, clearly unconvinced. “Ugh,” she groans, glaring at her older sister. “Payton always gives me better advice. You just say, ‘good job.’ That’s not going to help if I want to be the best dancer in the entire world, Jo!”

Jo exchanges a look with Asher, who’s barely holding back a laugh. Payton, Jo and Mia’s older sister, is a professional dancer living in New York City—a career Mia idolizes. Unlike Jo, who’s spent her life on the basketball court, Payton is everything Mis wants to be: graceful, disciplined, and impossibly good at pirouettes. It’s a path Jo has no interest in, which is probably why Mia constantly reminds her she’s the least qualified coach in the family.

“Well, yeah,” Jo says with a shrug. “Payton’s a pro. She’s, like, me in basketball but with dance. I’m just here to cheer you on, don’t really know what to tell you’s right or wrong, Mimi.”

Mia just groans again, even more dramatic this time, launching into another leap across the floor. Asher leans closer to Jo, his lips brushing against her ear as he drops his voice to a whisper. “Tough crowd.”

Jo snorts softly. “You have no idea,” she murmurs back.

Mia finishes her routine with a fluoride, throwing one arm in the air as if she’s just landed a gold medal-winning move at the Olympics. Asher claps loudly, a grin inching across his face. “Amazing, Mee!” he says enthusiastically, though he’d say that even if her performance was outright awful. “You’re getting even better than Payton, I think.”

For once, Mia doesn’t respond with her usual sass. Typically, when it comes to Asher, Mia’s either teasingly threatening him or biting at him or calling him funny names—she’s a menace child if Jo’s ever met one. But instead, Mia actually smiles at the boy, her cheeks flushed pink from exertion. “Thanks,” she says cheerfully, and Jo stares at her in disbelief.

“Wow,” the point guard says, raising an eyebrow, impressed. “You smiled at him. And thanked him. I think that’s a first.”

“Progress,” Asher claims, smiling broadly down at Jo.

Mia, on the other hand, sticks her tongue out at her older sister before collapsing onto the rug, sighing dramatically. “I’m exhausted. Someone get me a glass of water.”

“Get one yourself,” Jo tells her, already pulling out her phone. She scrolls through her notifications lazily, her thumb pausing when Paige’s name lights up her screen.

PB 😱😱

Got a nike event in Boston tmrw morning

Soooo we’re hanging out after

No negotiations

Jo’s lips twitch into a smile.

Ma freshie 💘

obviously

what time?

Paige replies almost instantly.

PB 😱😱

Like noon?

Don’t bail jojo

Jo shakes her head, rolling her eyes to herself. Paige never fails to amuse.

Asher, whose chin is now pressed against Jo’s hair, his gaze on her text. He asks, “So, you and her are really tight now, huh?”

Jo shrugs, because, well, kinda, duh. “I mean, we do live together,” she says, as if that explains everything.

“Yeah, but she’s Bueckers,” he replies, saying her name like it means something. Which, even though Paige would say it doesn’t, it totally does. “That’s a huge deal. She’s, like, insane on the court. Seen all the highlights.”

Jo doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she lets her mind wander to the past month and a half—the morning runs, the late-night shooting, the quiet moments in their shared apartment, the not-so-quiet playful bickering. Paige isn’t just her teammate or her roommate. She’s… something else entirely. Someone Jo can’t quite put into words—an enigma, maybe. “She’s just Paige,” Jo murmurs finally, her voice softer now.

Asher grins. “I’ve gotta meet her sometime. Best introduce me soon, Jo.”

“You’ll like her,” she replies, confidence threading her voice. She can already picture how Paige would probably charm the hell out of him without even trying—she does it to everyone, after all. “She’s… yeah, she’s cool.”

From the rug, Mia sits up suddenly, as if she’s finally hearing the conversation, her curiosity clearly piqued. “Who’s Paige?”

Jo blinks at her. “My roommate,” she responds simply. “You knew that.”

“And teammate,” Asher adds.

“She knew that, too.”

Mia crosses her arms, her tone all business now, ignoring Jo’s last comment. “Is she nice?”

“Yeah,” Jo answers easily. “She’s great. Super chill, really funny.”

“Is she good at basketball?” Mia fired back.

Jo grins. “One of the best.”

“Bet she’s better than you.”

Jo throws one of the throw pillows on the couch at her sister’s head. “Shut up, Mia.”

Mia just giggles, dodging the pillow with ease. Asher laughs, shaking his head as he watches the two sisters bicker, more than familiar with it.

For all her teasing, Jo can’t shake the warm, almost buzzing feeling in her chest. She’s excited to see Paige tomorrow. For reasons she can’t explain, she’s missed her a lot these past couple weeks they’ve been away from campus. It’s probably just because going from basically spending every waking minute with one another to none at all is a little odd.

Probably.

THE JULY sun beats down on Boston, and Paige feels it’s warmth seeping into her skin as she walks along the tree-lined streets near the Commons. The Nike event she attended this morning went off without a hitch, just a casual appearance with some photos and a couple clips filmed that they’ll probably put into an add. But now, she’s got the rest of the day free. The thought makes her grin as she thumbs out a quick text to Jo.

PB 😱😱

All done 😊😊

Where u at?

It takes Jo less than a minute for Jo to reply, sending a pin for a location that’s about a half mile away. Paige starts walking, but a follow-up text rings before she’s even crossed the street.

Ma freshie 💘

mia and i are by the ice cream shop

hurry pls, she’s losing her mind

The next message is a picture of Mia making a ridiculous face, her lips twisted and one eye squinting in mock disgust. Paige snorts out a laugh right there on the sidewalk, the noise startling a couple walking by. She doesn’t care, though. The kid already seems like a riot, and Paige is oddly excited to meet her.

The stories Jo’s told her about Mia over the past month and a half come rushing back: the eight-year-old’s uncanny ability to get under people’s skin, her endless energy, and her knack for saying the wildest things at the worst times. Paige has been looking forward to meeting her, though she’s still not sure if it’s because she’s genuinely curious about the so-called “demon child” or if she just wants to see Jo in full big-sister mode.

When Paige rounds the final corner, she spots them immediately. Jo is standing near a brightly colored ice cream shop, her arms crossed, her face pinched in annoyance as she talks to a smaller figure—Mia, presumably. Mia, on the other hand, looks completely unbothered, her tiny hands on her hips as she talks back with the kind of confidence that only a sassy little girl could muster.

Paige slows her steps, taking in the scene with a grin tugging at her lips. Jo’s wearing a simple outfit—ripped jean shorts that show off her long legs, a tightly-fitted white tube top, and a Red Sox cap pulled low over her face. It’s casual, but there’s something about the way she looks so effortlessly good in it that makes Paige pause for half a second longer than she should.

Her stomach dips unexpectedly, and Paige frowns to herself. Relax.

Still, as Paige approaches, she can’t help but notice the way Jo’s tan skin seems to glow under the sun, how smooth her legs look. Paige shakes her head, forcing her thoughts back on track. Because, seriously, the fuck is she even thinking about?

Clearing her throat, Paige makes her presence known. Jo turns, her annoyed expression instantly replaced by something brighter—her eyes lighting up, a wide grin spreading across her face.

“Hey, JoJo,” Paige greets teasingly, the nickname rolling off her tongue before she can stop it.

Jo’s grin falters for half a second, and she slaps Paige’s arm lightly. “Quit calling me that.”

Paige smirks. “Nah.”

Before Jo can retort, Mia steps forward, her curious gaze fixed on Paige. The little girl is smaller than Paige expected, with a mop of dark curls and big brown eyes that seem to take in everything. Paige crouches down to her level, offering a hand.

“And you must be Mia,” she says warmly. “I’m Paige.”

Mia doesn’t take her hand right away. Instead, she gives Paige a long, exaggerated once-over, her gaze hard as she studies her. The blonde tries not to fidget, but it’s hard under the little girl’s piercing eyes. Jo wasn’t kidding; Mia’s got this quiet intensity that’s a little intimidating, even if she’s only eight years old and Paige is twenty.

Finally, Mia breaks into a grin and giggles as she takes Paige’s hand. “Hi,” she says, her voice lilting.

Paige relaxes, smiling back easily. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard lots about you.”

Mia tilts her head. “From Jo?”

“Yeah,” Paige remixes with a grin. “She talks about you all the time.”

Mia beams at this, clearly pleased, while Jo mutters something under her breath that Paige doesn’t catch.

Paige chuckles a little as she stands. “Sooo, ice cream, right?” she asks.

Mia’s eyes light up and she grabs Paige’s hand like she’s known her her whole life rather than a minute or two. “Yes! Best ice cream in Boston!”

Jo snorts, falling into step beside them, shoulder brushing against Paige’s lightly. “She says that about every ice cream place we go to,” she mumbles, though there’s an undeniable softness in her tone.

“It is the best,” Mia insist, her voice full of conviction.

Paige grins. “Guess I’ll have to see for myself.”

The moment they step inside the ice cream shop, Paige is hit with a wave of sugary air and the sound of chatter. It’s buzzing in here, bigger and more crowded than she expected, almost every table occupied, with kids laughing, parents corralling them. The line snakes almost to the door, and Paige glances down at Mia, who’s still clutching her hand tightly.

“Looks like this place is the best,” Paige observes, smiling down at the little girl. Mia beams back up at her, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Told you!” she chirps, voice triumphant.

Paige can’t help but laugh softly. She glances over at Jo, who’s scanning the menu above the counter. The sunlight streaming through the shop window catches on the stray wisps of Jo’s hair that escape from under her Red Sox cap. Paige tries not to let her eyes linger too long on the curve of Jo’s jawline or the way her tube top leaves the expanse of her collarbones and neck exposed.

Jesus Christ, she doesn’t know what’s wrong with herself today.

The line moves slowly, but Paige doesn’t mind. Mia fills the time with a steady stream of chatter, never letting go of the blonde. She tells her about her favorite ice cream flavor (superman), her least favorite vegetables (brussel sprouts), and their family dogs (a dachshund named Dory and a golden retriever named Murph).

Paige listens attentively, nodding and laughing at all the right moments. She’s used to this—her own siblings are just as chatty, and she’s always been good at humoring them. There’s something comforting about Mia’s unfiltered enthusiasm; it reminds Paige of home in a way that makes her chest ache just a little.

As they inch closer to the counter, the line passes by a display of candy shelves, and that’s when it happens. Mia freezes mid-sentence, her eyes locking into something with the kind of laser focus that only a kid ready for a sugar high can muster.

“Oh my gosh,” Mia breaths, pointing to a massive rainbow-swirled lollipop almost as big as her head. She finally removes her hand from Paige’s to start tugging at Jo, begging, “Joey, please, please, can I get it? Please?”

Paige blinks a little at the nickname. Joey. She’s never heard anyone call Jo that before—she thought the only one she had was the one she hates that the whole team’s started using for her (JoJo). But Paige thinks Joey’s cute. In fact, she files it away in the back of her mind.

“No. Definitely not,” Jo says immediately, shaking her head down at Mia.

Mia’s face scrunches up in exaggerated disbelief. “What? Why?”

Paige glances between them, finally seeing what Jo meant about Mia being a demon child. The girl’s dramatic flair is something else entirely.

Jo sighs heavily. “Because the last time we were here, Mom bought you one, and you threw it up on the way home. It was gross, Mia.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Mia whines, still eyeing the lollipop like it’s the holy grail.

“It was that bad,” Jo counters.

“But it tasted sooo good,” Mia insists, dragging out the words as she tugs at Jo’s arm again.

Jo raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Did it taste good when it came back up?”

Mia stops short, her small face scrunching up in thought. The gears are clearly turning in her head as she considers this. And just as suddenly as the argument started, Mia lets out a resigned sigh and steps away from the candy display.

“Fine,” she mumbles, sounding defeated.

Jo smiles to herself, clearly pleased, and Paige has to bite back a laugh at the entire sibling interaction.

“Nice save,” she says under her breath, leaning slightly toward Jo as they start moving forward in line again.

Jo glances at her, their faces closer than usual, though she doesn’t seem to notice. Her smile just widens as she responds, “You learn a few tricks when you’ve been stuck around her for eight years.”

Paige chuckles softly, watching Mia bound up to the counter like she’s on a mission, finally their turn to order. The little girl presses her hands against the glass case, scanning the vibrant tubs of ice cream with a dramatic level of intensity.

“I want Superman!” Mia declares, her voice brimming with excitement as she points at the swirled red, yellow, and blue ice cream.

“Please,” Jo adds, giving the employee a small, apologetic smile as she nudges Mia’s arm, giving her that older sister look that Paige can tell means—use your manners. The worker scoops a generous amount of the ice cream into a cup and hands it over the counter. Mia accepts it like it’s a trophy, her eyes and grin wide as ever.

“Can I just have a scoop of cotton candy, please?” Jo asks, her turn now, her voice casual like she’s not about to commit a culinary crime.

Paige can’t help but scrunch up her nose at the brunette’s order. Nasty. She doesn’t say anything—yet—but she stores the information away for later mockery. The worker hands Jo her cone, a garishly bright pink and blue swirl that makes Paige wince just looking at it.

When it’s Paige’s turn, she doesn’t even hesitate, ordering mint chip—her absolute favorite.

They pay quickly, before stepping outside into the warm air, each armed with their chosen flavor. Mia’s already half-covered in Superman ice cream and Jo has her head tilted slightly to avoid dripping the cotton candy monstrosity in her hand.

Paige glances at Jo’s cone and makes a face. “Cotton candy is crazy work,” she tells her, incredulous.

Jo raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “What’s wrong with cotton candy?”

“Everything,” Paige answers, gesturing at the cone like it’s personally offended her. “It’s basically sugar-flavored-sugar. It doesn’t even taste like real cotton candy. It’s just—” She shudders dramatically.

Jo narrows her eyes at Paige’s cone in retaliation. “Says the person eating frozen toothpaste.”

Paige gasps, her hand flying to her chest in mock indignation. “Excuse me, mint chip is a classic. It’s refreshing. It’s balanced. It’s—”

“Minty,” Jo interrupts, wrinkling her nose. “Which is gross.”

“It’s not gross! You’re gross,” Paige fires back, grinning despite herself.

Mia, who’s been watching the exchange with wide eyes, suddenly pipes up. “Okay, I’ll decide!” she declares. She scoops up some of her Superman ice cream for good measure before pointing her tiny spoon at Jo’s cone. “Joey, let me try yours first.”

Jo bends down slightly to hold out her cone, and Mia takes a small bite. She lets it melt in her mouth, her face scrunching up like she’s debating a complex equation. Finally, she nods. “It’s okay,” she says, though she doesn’t look thrilled.

Jo looks affronted. “Just okay?”

Mia shrugs nonchalantly before turning to Paige. “Now yours!”

Paige kneels slightly to hold out her cone. Mia eyes it suspiciously. “Why is it green?” she asks, sounding almost fearful.

“Don’t worry ‘bout the color,” Paige tells her, waving off the question. “It’s good. Trust.”

Mia hesitates for a second longer before scooping up a tiny bite. She puts it in her mouth, and her face goes still. For a moment, Paige wonders if she’s about to spit it out, but then Mia’s eyes light up.

“This. Is. So. Good!” the eight-year-old squeals, practically bouncing in place.

Paige grins, holding out her hand for a high five. “Told you. Welcome to the winning team.”

Mia smacks her hand enthusiastically, ice cream forgotten for a moment. Jo, however, is standing off to the side, arms crossed and pouting like a kid who just lost her favorite game. Paige glances at her and immediately starts laughing.

“Oh, don’t be mad,” she teases, nudging Jo’s arm.

“She’s supposed to be on my side!” Jo grumbles, glaring halfheartedly at Mia. “I’m your sister!”

Mia sticks her tongue out at her, clearly unbothered. “You’re just mad because you have bad taste.”

Paige nearly chokes on her ice cream, laughing so hard she has to steady herself against a bench they’re stood next to. “Dang, Mia!”

Jo shakes her head, though the corner of her mouth twitches upward in a reluctant smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you little menace,” she mumbles, ruffling Mia’s hair.

Mia slaps her hand away from her head, beginning to bicker with Jo. Paige watches, quiet now as she bites into her cone. She finds herself unable to look away, a strange warmth blooming in her chest.

See, whatever that is, has to go. She doesn’t like it, doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t understand it in the slightest.

It just—has to go.

THE LIVING ROOM feels cozy in a way that Paige hasn’t experienced in a long time. It’s not her home, not her couch, not her family, but something about it wraps around her, soft and warm. The overhead light is off, leaving the room bathed in the dim glow of the TV. Colors flicker against the walls, shapes shifting across the furniture. Paige doesn’t know what movie is playing—something animated, she thinks—but it’s barely background noise at this point.

Jo sits a few feet away, her back against the armrest of the couch, one leg stretched out, the other bent slightly. Mia’s curled up fast asleep in her lap, her little head tucked under Jo’s arm, one of Jo’s hands running lazily through the little girl’s hair. The motion is slow and deliberate, like second nature, and it’s strangely captivating. Paige finds herself staring, watching the way Jo’s fingers disappear into soft brown curls, touch gentle.

Paige hadn’t planned to stay this long. After Mia had declared mint chip her new favorite ice cream and told Paige she could officially call her Mimi—a nickname that only her absolute favorite people can use—they’d hung out all day, walking around the Commons, then shopping, then getting dinner. After that, they were meant to depart, Jo and Mia going home, and Paige going back to her hotel. But then Mia had looked up at her with those big, pleading eyes, practically begging Paige to come back and watch a movie with them. And Paige is terrible at saying no to kids.

So, she came home with them, to their house which sits right on the outline of the city. The house isn’t massive, but it’s nice—nice enough for Paige to have faintly wondered how much money Jo’s parents make. But it’s still welcoming and cozy, and Paige feels comfortable here. She also likes that she’s got to see all the photos around—the ones of Jo when she was little, some more recent ones that Paige can guess are apart of her senior photos, and a couple of her with her sisters.

The only one that she didn’t enjoy seeing was that one. A nicely framed picture of Jo and her boyfriend sitting on the shelf directly to Paige’s right. They look happy in it. Too happy, in Paige’s opinion, though she doesn’t know why it bothers her so much. Maybe she’s got some sort of jealousy deep down in the part of her heart where her commitment issues aren’t veined around, an envy toward a stable relationship like that. But either way, there’s no reason for her to care. And yet, she doesn’t like it.

Paige shakes the thought away, focusing instead on the conversation. She and Jo have been talking quietly since Mia fell asleep, their voices hushed but easy. It reminds Paige of late nights back at their shared apartment on campus, how they’ll end up in the kitchen at the same time and somehow talk for hours without meaning to. Paige likes those moments more than she’ll ever admit, and this feels no different.

Their conversation drifts, flowing naturally, until Jo starts talking about her sisters. “I admire them, you know,” she says softly, her hand still moving through Mia’s hair. “Payton, especially. She’s… well, she’s incredible. Mia thinks she walks on water, and honestly, sometimes I do, too.”

Paige tilts her head, curious. Jo’s voice has a different quality now—still soft, but there’s something else underneath it. Not sadness exactly, but something close. “What about you?” Paige asks. “You’re incredible, too. And Mia clearly adores you.”

Jo smiles, but—for once—it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, but it’s different. Payton’s a dancer—like, a real dancer. She’s in New York City, with the ballet there. And that’s what Mia loves. That’s what they both love. And, y’know, they connect over it. It’s dance; it’s their thing.”

Paige frowns, the words sinking in. Jo rarely talks like this. She’s always so happy, so upbeat, so wrapped in sunshine that Paige sometimes forgets there might be anything else underneath. “You don’t feel connected to them?” she asks, her voice a little quieter now.

Jo hesitates, her hand pausing in Mia’s hair for just a second before continuing. “Not really,” she admits. “I mean, I love them, obviously. But… it’s hard sometimes. I’ve always been the odd one out, you know? The one who plays basketball while they dance. Sometimes it just feels like we’re on completely different planets.”

Paige doesn’t know what to say at first. She’s surprised—stupidly so, maybe, because she’s never considered Jo might feel this way. But, if she thinks about it, it makes sense.

“I get that,” the blonde finally says, soft but steady. “I mean, I’m so much older than my siblings that it’s hard to connect with them sometimes, too. But… for what it’s worth, I think you’re amazing. And I know Mia does too—whether she says it or not.”

Jo looks over at her then, and for a moment, Paige thinks she might forget how to breathe. There’s something in Jo’s eyes, something raw and unguarded, and it makes Paige’s chest feel tight. “Thanks,” Jo says quietly, barely a whisper.

The moment feels too heavy, too close, and Paige decides to lighten the mood. “So,” she says, changing the subject, her small smile curling into more of a smirk. “Mia calls you Joey?”

Jo’s smile returns, softer this time but more genuine. “Yeah. My whole family does. It’s a much better nickname than that JoJo Siwa shit y’all have come up with.”

Paige laughs, shaking her head. “Don’t shit on the JoJo nickname. It’s iconic.”

Jo raises an eyebrow, her smile turning teasing. “Iconically bad,” she corrects.

“Okay, fine,” Paige says, pretending to think. “But I like Joey more, too. It’s cute. Maybe I’ll start calling you that instead.”

Jo shrugs, but her smile widens just a little. “Anything’s better than JoJo.”

Paige grins, leaning back into the couch, though—for whatever reason—her heart starts thumping a little faster. She doesn’t know why she feels the way she does around Jo sometimes—why moments like this stick with her longer than they probably should. But for now, she doesn’t let herself think about it too much. Instead, she lets herself enjoy the quiet, the warmth of the room, and the easy rhythm of their conversation.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wcbb #wbb #uconn #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers series #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #wcbb x reader #ncaa wbb #wlw #lgbtq #nobody gets me

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diabolik-boys · 18 days ago

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Hello, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you but I’d like to ask for the Diaboys reactions to their S/O being a theatre kid. And not the stereotypical ones but one who’s genuinely invested on theatre, auditioning and getting a role in most school plays. And oh boy, do they give it their all, before the play, they’re constantly practicing their lines and when they’re practicing their songs there won’t be a single moment of silence in the house for a while. They prefer classic theatre over movies.

===== S/O WHO LOVES THEATRE SCENARIO =====

===== S/O WHO LOVES THEATRE: SAKAMAKI =====

=============== Shu Sakamaki ===============

"Although I respect your passion, I worry you are working yourself too hard. I would much rather enjoy seeing your plays without worrying that you'll collapse on stage. You do wonderful just on your own. Try not to stress out so much."

Although not admitting it or probably realizing it, Shu likes stage performances if they are about topics he would like. He probably would enjoy seeing his S/O perform in classical themes such as tragedies and well-known ethereal pieces.

He will probably not attend every play that his S/O performs in, but will do his best to encourage them before their shows and will be more than willing to support them along the way. He would become a bit worried if his S/O is running themselves ragged with rehearsals. Shu may wait outside with some flowers after an extensive performance.

Regardless, Shu will be supportive of his S/O as their career continues to build, and he might even be willing to play some of the music of the plays on his viola to help them practice with their performances at home.

=============== Reiji Sakamaki ===============

"Much like me, you have a drive for something that makes you feel alive. As much as I love chemistry and science, I respect your love for theatre. You do wonderful for each play, my dear. Just be sure to take breaks. I have to remind myself the very same thing."

Reiji respects his S/O's passions for theatre and performances, and would be very interested in historical plays and those that have a lot of emotions behind the storylines. He will often accompany his S/O to their shows.

While not necessarily going to be the most boisterous about his support for his S/O as their talent grows and more shows are performed in, he will be loyally beside his S/O and support them along the way. So long as they continue to take care of themselves.

He might offer to make some medications to help them relax their nerves in case of any anxieties arise overtime or at the beginning of their career. While his worries are but subtle, he wouldn't want them pushing themselves until they break down during practice or the actual performances themselves.

=============== Ayato Sakamaki ===============

"Oi, go break a leg. Not literally, but ya' know what I mean. I'll be cheerin' for ya' at the endin' as always. Be sure you wave at me, I'm not that hard t' miss. You'll do great, babe."

Ayato absolutely understands nothing about theatre. He doesn't see the appeal in it at first, but he will go and watch a show after some relationship building and might grow to actually like seeing performances so long as his S/O is enjoying themselves.

As time continues, Ayato will be more open about his support for his S/O and their career as a performer as it grows. He'll go to shows and often try to get a front-row seat to be able to make eye-contact with his S/O while on stage.

However, there's going to be jealousy involved if his S/O is playing a role that has a lover. While he understand there is 'acting' as part of a play, he might grow a little bitter if the acting is very believable that his S/O loves another within the play. He might need some reassurances.

=============== Kanato Sakamaki ===============

"I am not a fan of all of the plays you do. But so long as they are gothic or tragic in nature, I suppose they're not too boring. You work yourself really hard whenever the plays are finished, and your blood tastes off when that happens. I'd rather enjoy drinking from you, so don't work yourself to extreme fatigue."

Kanato enjoys things that are only of interest to him. Having to get up and leave the comfort of his house is not something he likes to do unless it's for a specific purpose that he needs or wants to do. And although his love for his S/O will grow overtime, he's not really interested in theatre and plays.

He won't show his support for his S/O and their passions as often as they might desire to see. While he will watch and critique his S/O's rehearsals at home and practice, he'll do so harshly and it might honestly seem rude of him to do after showing no interest in actually going to the play itself.

Kanato might humor his S/O and go to see plays that he might be slightly interested in. But even after the performance, he might be harsh on critiques and have rarely any compliments. This is just his personality, as he doesn't see the need to shower his S/O in compliments unless it's beneficial to him to get something from them.

=============== Laito Sakamaki ===============

"You're gonna do great, baby. Just take some deep breaths. I'll be waiting for you after the show is over. I'm sure it's going to go well, so don't stress so much. You'll make your heartrate go up, and I just might have to bite you before the show if that happens~"

Laito is ever the romantic, and will often support his S/O regardless of their pursuits of happiness. While theatre is not an outright specialty to him, he enjoys performances with live music, such as an orchestra below the stage, and would love to attend play such as those.

He will be happy to watch the plays, although the specific play themselves will probably have to interest him first. Laito will be also happy to watch their practice at home, and give little tips here and there about what he thinks they should adjust, especially if they want any critiques.

While romance is something he loves, he will probably be more than happy to treat his S/O to a night on the town after a good performance, or wait after the show with flowers if he didn't attend. If he does attend a play, he will be probably waiting backstage after it is over to shower his S/O with praise and affections just to make them feel more closer to him.

=============== Subaru Sakamaki ===============

"Oi, chill out for a little bit. You've been workin' yerself to the bone with this shit... Just take a breather. I'm worried yer gonna end up havin' a panic attack or somethin'. Just relax. Ya' gotta be calm if ya' wanna practice. Yer gonna do great. Just don't collapse on me."

Subaru absolutely doesn't know a whole lot about theatre and performances, and he might find the venues or shows themselves a bit too loud and rowdy for his liking. He would be surprised at his S/O enjoying something such as theatre, and he might not know a lot about it, but he will be supportive.

Overall, he might attend a few shows here and there, but definitely not all of them as he would prefer to be in solitude more often than not, and at times he gets a bit jealous if the show includes his S/O acting with a romance storyline. Even if he knows it's just acting, he'd find his S/O's acting to pretty believable.

As the career grows overtime, Subaru will be happy to encourage his S/O as time goes on, but also try to remind them to take breaks. He wouldn't want them running themselves down immensely, nor stressing out 24/7. Mainly because it'd be annoying to deal with.

===== S/O WHO LOVES THEATRE: MUKAMI =====

=============== Ruki Mukami ===============

"I very much enjoy watching your plays. Do not think I don't. As much as I would enjoy staying home and reading a book or so, I still will come and support you as your Master. Now, go out there and enjoy yourself. Just take some deep breaths if you get nervous. You'll do just fine."

Ruki has respect for classical theatre works, such as old operas and theatre. While he most likely will not enjoy more modern themes as much, he would be interested in seeing his S/O perform in plays he knows, or has topics that he is interested in such as crime or mystery.

He is far too busy to attend every play, but he will be happy to watch rehearsals and practices from home, giving critiques along the way. While he might be a little harsh, that's how the business goes. So he'd want to help his S/O become better. Ruki may praise or gift his S/O something after a particularly good performance.

Although acting is clearly a big part of the plays themselves, Ruki might try to control his S/O by not acting so immensely in love with a romance storyline, as he might get a little jealous if he thinks they're showing the other actor more love or gazing at the other actor just as they gaze and look at him.

=============== Kou Mukami ===============

"In a way, plays and shows are kind of just like my concerts! I love that you enjoy performing so much! You remind me so much of me in that way. Don't worry baby, I'll come see you perform! I wouldn't be a good boyfriend if I didn't!"

Kou loves that his S/O is into performances and shows just like him. While he of course loves to have a cheerleader at his own shows and concerts, he would be happy to attend at least a few of his S/O's shows and be a cheerleader for them as well.

Even if he is very busy, he will do his best to show his support for his S/O along the way of their career progressing. He won't be able to attend every show and play, but he'd be more than happy to practice his own shows along with his S/O practicing theirs, and would be happy to give critiques to one another as a matter of giving and taking. And ever the performer at heart, he'd be more than happy to take up a second role for his S/O to perform with at home.

He of course understands how the business goes, so he will urge his S/O to have social medias, sell merchandise of their shows, and overall have a good following to max on sales and money production. Even if that means making more opportunities for their fans to interact with them.

=============== Yuma Mukami ===============

"I don't know too much about performin' an' everythin', but... You look amazing on stage. Don't be so hard on yerself. Yer gonna do great just like ya' always have. I'll be in the crowd watchin' ya' as usual. I'm pretty tall, so... Be sure to find me. I'll be rootin' for ya'."

Yuma, even in his brawn and tall glory, would be happy to attend shows and root for his S/O in the crowd, even if he stands out a little bit and doesn't really look like he belongs there. He'd be happy just to see his S/O wave to him after spotting him once a show is over.

He probably won't understand each theme of a show he attends, but Yuma might get captivated by certain stories, so long as they interest him. And although not an emotional person by heart, he might be able to feel the emotions of each play he attends mainly since he sees his S/O performing within it.

While he'll be busy with his garden a lot and helping out his brothers, Yuma will support his S/O with practices and rehearsals at home, maybe even being willing to fill in for a part that needs two people to practice, he might find it a little fun.

=============== Azusa Mukami ===============

"You always... look so amazing on the stage. I'll always come to... each of your plays and performances. I want to support you... in all of your passions. Just don't... stress too much. You make everything... look flawless. You'll do great."

Azusa loves supporting his S/O no matter their passions and projects. While plays and performances probably didn't interest him as much as remaining home, he will be willing to attend his S/O's shows and might even be captivated by the performances if portrayed well.

He will be more than happy to sit down for hours for his S/O to practice with a small audience at home, and will like seeing his S/O getting into the inspiration and grind for performing right there in front of him, as well as on the stage.

While crowds and big venues might make Azusa feel uncomfortable and anxious, he will be willing to go to each show and be there in the crowd and wait there for his S/O after each performance. He might buy flowers or a gift for his S/O after the shows and wait patiently for the actors and actresses to be let go.

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ohnoitstbskyen · 1 year ago

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youtube

let's spend an hour and a half enjoying the Heartsteel himbos | PARANOIA animation analysis

I have decidedly mixed feelings on the Heartsteel band splash art, which are intensified by the degree to which their 3 minute music video was able to near-instantly endear me to every one of these idiot himboyband doofuses.

Heartsteel is a project that suffers a lot in being compared to True Damage and K/DA, which are the most obvious points of comparison to draw, especially since Riot seems (at least to me) to have committed rather fewer resources to their virtual band project this go around. Wisely, thus, the Hearsteel project decided to attempt a very different narrative and emotional vibe with its characters from previous efforts. Where K/DA and True Damage both presented their characters as untouchable pop-gods at the top of their game, bragging about their accomplishments, Heartsteel comes from almost exactly the opposite place.

PARANOIA is a fearful, defensive, defiant song composed and performed like a triumphal power-anthem, coming from the perspective of a group of industry outsiders who have all been devalued or burned by the mainstream.

Ezreal is a one-hit-wonder whose image got run into the ground by controlling management, Yone a legendary producer burned out on industry conformity. Kayn is a pop music bad boy whose spiteful arrogance broke up his last band, K'Sante an ambitious vocal powerhouse who could never find creative partners, and Sett a disgraced rapper who lost his contract for punching a paparazzo.

These, then, are not pop-gods gracing the mortal realm with images of their brilliance, but a bunch of down-and-out losers and untapped talents trying to claw back their careers with nothing but found-family dynamics, the power of friendship, and Jackass-style promotional stunts in their arsenal. The music video depicts them running a night-time raid on a film studio, stealing props and causing god knows how much property damage trying to film their own comeback music video.

It doesn't.... quite nail the grunge independent vibe that it seems to want to go for, it has a rather inconsistent diegesis, and trying to cram character moments for six characters into a three minute song compresses the pace of the video to an almost manic emotional experience. I found that most of its setpieces and ideas did not land with me at all until a third or fourth re-watch, and going through the video frame-by-frame so I could actually take in what the video was trying to say.

Once I did, I enjoyed it a LOT. The character animation is expressive, dynamic and immensely charming. There's a ton of great texture work going on, interesting lighting, extremely creative effects, and the emotional heart of the video - the genuine affection between the band members as expressed through boyish shenanigans - hits brilliantly... once you slow the video down enough to really see it. There is also a truly astonishing amount of work put into flash frames and scribbly visual effects, and an absolute embarrassment of screenshots that could be wallpapers.

Anyway, I spent an hour and a half talking about a three-minute music video because I am the world's easiest sucker for charming character animation. Care to join me?

#tbskyen #heartsteel #league of legends #heartsteel yone #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel rhaast #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel sett #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel ezreal #k/da #true damage #riot games #Youtube

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sunny44 · 2 years ago

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I can’t do this anymore

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x wife!reader

Warnings: fights and mentions of divorce.

Summary: Y/n is tired of living in a marriage where she is the only one who puts him as a priority.

Next chapter

I knew that marriages were not easy, and I also knew that it would be hard to be married to a guy who spends most of the year away from home.

Carlos and I met when we were 20, dated for 5 and have been married for 3, we have never had any problems that would make me think about not being with him anymore.

But lately this thought has been haunting me and silently torturing me.

We are already at a stage in our relationship where we should be thinking about having a family, or are already trying to.

Actually I was thinking about it but it seems that Carlos wants to avoid this thought at all costs.

I try to bring him into a conversation and he cuts me off, changes the subject or even says that he can't be a father right now.

This weekend was the race in Spain and me and his family were here cheering for him.

"Are you okay honey?" His mother asks.

"Yeah, just a little nauseous." At the same time she smiles.

"Honey that's great, I knew you and Carlos were at that part of the relationship but I didn't think it was this close."

"No, no I'm not pregnant." Her smile fades. "I wanted to but I'm not and I don't think I will be for a long time."

"What do you mean?"

"It's nothing." I try to deflect the subject.

"Come on, let's get some coffee." I sigh and go with her.

After we buy the coffees and find a quieter place and she returns to the subject.

"Is something going on with you and Carlos? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, or at least I think so."

"Do you want to tell me?"

"It's just that we've been together for many years now and I thought by this point in our relationship we'd be planning to have a family and everything but Carlos doesn't seem very interested in that." I took a sip of my coffee. "I guess we are at different points in our lives."

"And that worries you doesn't it?"

"It's just that Carlos has putting his career first more than anything right now and I know how important it is to him and that's not a problem for me, it never has been. It's just that at the end of it all what we have in life is our family and I don't want to have to wait any longer for him to decide he wants to before we get started."

"I'm sorry about that." I smiled and wiped my tears away.

"It's okay." She smiles and we remain silent.

…

We were already back at home, Carlos had come in second place and obviously wasn't one of the happiest but he wasn't unhappy either.

"Can we talk?" I asked sitting down next to him on the couch.

"I'm tired now."

"But you're not to watch soccer aren't you." I said ironically starting to get up but he held my hand and turned off the TV.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Let's talk."

"We're fine aren't we?"

"Of course we're fine, why are you asking that?”

"Because I feel like every time I go to talk to you about our family or the lack of it you cut me off and change the subject and that makes me feel like you don't want or you don’t want with me."

"Love is not that." He comes closer and wipes a tear that has run down my cheek. "It's not that I don’t want to have a family with you but we can't right now."

"What do you mean we can't now?"

"It's just that I really feel like I have a chance to win this year and I can't have any distractions." At this I laughed wryly.

"Distractions? Is that what I am to you? A fucking distraction." I get up from the couch. "I’m sorry Carlos that I'm a distraction to you and that me thinking about our future is something that bothers you so much, but I'm not going to stand here and let my life pass me by just because you don't want to have a family."

"What does that mean?"

"That I can't do this anymore." He got up from the couch. "I don't want to wait around anymore waiting for you to decide whether or not to have children because I want to, I want to be a mother, I want to leave something in this world after I die and I'm not going to wait around for you anymore."

"What are you saying?"

"I want a divorce."

"What? Babe don’t say that."

"I've already made up my mind Carlos. I've been thinking about it for a while and I didn't want this because I love you so much but you're leaving me no other option." He tries to get close to me but I pull away. "I'm going to get my things and go to my parents house and I'm going to start divorce proceedings as soon as possible."

I didn't even let him speak, I just went upstairs to our room and grabbed a suitcase and started putting some things inside.

When I came downstairs he was sitting on the couch in shock.

"I'll get the rest of my stuff another time." He doesn't even look at me and I even think he heard well so I just walked out leaving my whole life behind.

And that's when I realized that the worst feeling is when you don't want to give up on someone but you know you have to.

Let me know if you guys are interested in a part 2

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glycerineclown · 1 month ago

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BEFORE DINNER: HOW DID SIMON GET SO FUCKED UP?

Great art takes risks, and 2020’s cult hit Dinner In America took a huge one by making its male lead incredibly off-putting. Kyle Gallner’s Simon has off-the-charts anger issues, commits arson, sells drugs at an arcade, lies easily, curses loudly in public, has little to no respect for other people (“my dad’s allergic” “fuck your dad”), makes creepy sexual remarks and then acts like it was a joke, goes through cigarettes like he needs them to live—but by the end, you root for him. He defends Patty when no one else will, stands by his convictions, and is without a doubt an incredible musician.

He's a punk with just one patch on his jacket: an Eagle Scout badge over his heart. It’s the highest honor that a Boy Scout can earn, requiring demonstration of leadership, good citizenship, 21 merit badges, and the final piece: an extensive individual service project benefiting the scout’s local community.

Eagle Scouts are overrepresented in politics, clergy, the military, and NASA’s career astronauts. Even if it's technically secular, the Boy Scouts of America is an intensely Christian organization—very often troops are organized by churches, not schools.

Scout Law dictates that scouts be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent (to God). All things that, you know, totally sound like Simon, the guy with a grown-out mohawk and an upside-down American flag hanging in his bedroom. He’s so clearly against conformity that it’s hard to imagine him ever being interested in wearing a uniform and building rope bridges. PSYOPS lyrics are blatantly anti-Christian, too (“fanatical religious right, pray with you because you’re white” based on the subtitles on Hulu).

The hypothesis I am proposing is that Simon earned the rank of Eagle Scout because doing so would allow him to receive his parents’ permission to do something else he really wanted to do—start a band. Maybe for his Eagle Project, he turned a storage closet into a recording studio for the high school music department. Simon goes big. Fuck building benches.

I was in Brownies through my elementary school for three years in the late 90s. We went camping, sold Trefoils, milked goats, and made gak. Our troop leader was the mom of one of the other girls, and when needed, additional chaperones were always more moms. I had a great time. Across the United States, most Boy Scouts are similarly unharmed as they get out of the house and learn basic survival skills.

Youth organizations have a problem, though—they attract people who want access to kids. I watched a documentary on Netflix last year, Scout’s Honor: The Secret Files of the Boy Scouts of America, illustrating how for decades the BSA protected child molesters on a level that rivals even the Catholic Church. Simple background checks for scoutmasters were considered inconvenient and too expensive for an organization largely run by volunteers, and the BSA refused to risk their Norman Rockwell reputation by acknowledging the issue. Men who were red-flagged as abusers could easily pop up again with another troop, since no database of “ineligible volunteers” was available to the public, and the BSA did not report crimes to the police. Deep shame and rampant homophobia meant survivors very often did not reveal the abuse they suffered until well into adulthood.

I have been thinking about this a lot with regard to Simon—maybe you saw my other, much more informal text post—but I am not qualified to (and really, really don’t want to) write fic exploring what the fuck could have happened to make him the way he is. Instead, I’m writing this essay about it. Proceed if you like to be sad!

[content warnings, obviously: discussion of CSA by an authority figure, post-traumatic stress disorder, substance abuse]

HYPOTHESIS: Becoming an Eagle Scout was the only way that Simon’s parents would let him pursue music.

Abuse in adolescence can affect how people learn to control their emotions later in life. Anger problems are especially prevalent with PTSD when the victim has been betrayed by others or exploited.

In the film, Simon has a pretty acrimonious relationship with everyone in his family apart from Danny. I don’t really buy that he was abused at home, though. It’s more likely that his family loves him but he’s out of control, and he is. Simon’s basement bedroom is full of instruments—it’s even more “fuckin’ tits” than Kevin’s bunk bed and guinea pigs. He used to be someone they trusted with a key.

So let’s assume that Simon was being molested by his scoutmaster as a teenager. If quitting the BSA meant he wouldn’t get to start a band, he’d be completely trapped.

Telling his parents would result in one of two options: they’d either assume he was making it up to get out of doing the work (do nothing but start a fight), or believe him and pull him out entirely, get the police involved, risk everyone at school finding out. And telling wouldn’t guarantee that he’d get to focus on music—surely Simon’s parents would rather he go off to college and get a degree in something reliable, as his siblings did. Becoming an Eagle Scout was the compromise because his parents figured it was an impossible task.

There’s no question that if that scoutmaster knew about the deal with his parents, it would have been used against him. If you don’t let me do this, you won’t get that merit badge you need, and if you don’t get that merit badge you need, you can kiss your dreams goodbye...

In the beginning, back in Cub Scouts, Simon could very well have bought what the organization was selling. Maybe he wasn’t jaded yet, wasn’t disillusioned, wasn’t quite old enough to think for himself. But if the man teaching Simon to respect the flag, do what he’s told, help others, set a good example, believe in God, and be a responsible, contributing member of society was also the one pulling his pants down, convincing him he had no power or worth, Simon might well have ended up doing a complete 180 against those ideals.

Maybe that piece of shit eyed him all the time, made him feel unsafe even from the other side of a room, and now he blows up at people staring at him in restaurants.

This experience could also, perhaps, motivate Simon to use his newfound power as an adult to protect other vulnerable people from bullying, like Patty.

The church angle works too. Simon knew immediately how to manipulate Patty’s dad. He fabricated the story about Tanzania and the prayer like it was nothing, and it would have been easy for him to do if he was steeped in that environment for years.

And then, of course, there’s the drugs—classic self-medication. A way to stop constantly thinking about stuff he doesn’t want to think about. Research has shown that traumatic experiences in childhood often lead to substance use disorders. Even if Simon’s not doing dope while he’s hanging out with Patty, he certainly has been addicted in the past. His parents have likely paid for him to go to rehab, maybe more than once. Substance abuse does make people lie to and steal from their families. Simon’s sister is an asshole at dinner, but her suspicion is probably not unfounded.

That wouldn’t have been where the lying started, though. He’d have been holding back the secret of his abuse since it began, giving poor excuses for injuries, and lashing out. Traumatic experiences, especially at a young age, can rewire your brain and change your personality. Addictive drugs can, too. He’s not the same person anymore.

Simon needed help, and he never got it.

More than 82,000 former boy scouts have come forward about sexual abuse that they experienced as children in the BSA. Criminal background checks only became mandatory for all scoutmasters and volunteers in 2008.

Maybe for Simon, wearing the badge is his way of saying, “You didn’t beat me. I deserve to be here. I earned the right to start a band.”

SOURCES: Boy Scouts of America (Wikipedia) Eagle Scouts (Wikipedia) Scout’s Honor: The Secret Files of the Boy Scouts of America (Netflix) Anger and Trauma (National Center for PTSD) Trauma and Stress (National Institute on Drug Abuse)

Support for survivors of abuse in the BSA is available here.

#dinner in america #kyle gallner #simon dia

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lemotmo · 2 months ago

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Any thoughts on the podcast?

Okay, just to show you how incredibly 'out of the loop' with fandom I am these days, this is the question that popped into my head first:

What podcast?

(Work is crazy right now. I have probably slept about 4 hours this weekend, so I'm literally existing on fumes. And I'm not done yet. I have at least two more crazy days to go.😬)

A quick stroll through my dash and a walk through Twitter immediately showed me a podcast with Ryan. Curious as I am, I watched it and quickly understood what kind of interview this was going to be when the interviewer asked Ryan if he could say a prayer.

I'm not a religious person myself. I grew up Catholic, but when I was 14 or 15 I just told my parents I didn't feel comfortable going to church anymore, so they agreed I could stay at home while they went. These days my mom has given up on religion as well. My dad is the only one still practising, but very casual. I think he just finds value in the tradition and routine of it.

Anyway, I have nothing against people praying. Did I find it odd for a podcast? Yes, but whatever. The interview was obviously also very Catholic and so is Ryan so if they feel better saying a prayer, that's cool I guess. I don't mind.

The interview itself was quite interesting. I did feel like the interviewer wasn't very good at her job, because some of those questions weren't thought out very well and most of the time she wasn't even looking at Ryan. She kept staring at her questions. But Ryan's answers were thoughtful and interesting.

Now... does that mean that I agreed with everything he (and especially the interviewer) said in the podcast? No, decidedly not. He has some core values I do agree with, but there's also some opinions I disagree with.

And you know what? That is okay. It's okay to think differently as long as you are respectful about it, which he was.

I found myself intrigued with his answers, even if I didn't agree with all that was said. But he explained his point of view calm and clearly, which I appreciate.

I like listening to people who have some fundamentally different opinions than me, because that is the only way to learn about the world and people around us.

I liked how he opened up about his failed marriage and how it changed him and his role as a father. I looooved how you can see his love for his kids shine through. I loved how he shared that he's staying celibate for now to kind of find self-love and self-worth again. Good for him! I love how he talked with respect about women and how much he values them. It makes me wish I could sit down with him one day to pick his brain, because I'm intrigued by him and this deeper philosophical side he has.

However, I fundamentally disagree with the viewpoint that a woman's worth can only be measured in what she means to a man or what she can offer a man, which was kind of implied during the conversation he had with the interviewer at the end of the interview.

A woman's worth -to me- is the choice to be whoever she wants to be.

If she wants to devote her life to a husband and kids? Fine. Great. Good for her! If this is where she finds value in life? Who am I to disagree.

But... if she chooses her career over a marriage? If she decides to become a single mom by choice (like me)? If she decides to get married, have kids and still have a career? If she decides that the single life is the best life ever? If she decides that she needs to travel the world on her own? Fine. Great. Good for her! If this is where she finds value in life? Who am I to disagree?

Women do not need a relationship (with a man or woman) to become all they are meant to be. It is okay to be single. It is okay to have lots of sex. It is okay to have no sex. It is okay to want children. It is okay to not want children. It is okay to want to have a career. It is okay to not want to have a career. It's all okay. The right way isn't fixed. the right way is the road a woman herself decides to follow in life. No interference by anyone.

It's her decision and no woman should ever be judged for that.

So, I don't know what you expected me to say here Nonny. I hope I didn't disappoint. But yeah, I'm okay with this interview. The guy is entitled to his own opinions and ideas, like we all are. It's a free world.

Truthfully though, I'm not that invested in the actors' personal lives. I like the bts they make, the photoshoots they do, the 911 interviews... basically everything that has to do with 911. But their actual personal lives? Meh... you know? They're just ordinary people with their own opinions and problems, just living their lives, like you and me. 🤷‍♀️

I'm much more interested in Eddie Diaz to be honest. 🌈😉

#ryan guzman interview #ryan guzman #nonnies galore #woman have such great value in society and a lot of the time that value isn't recognised as much as it should be #or even not recognised at all

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hurtspideyparker · 20 days ago

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I’m sending this because I saw your post on the tags. You’re not a Tom Holland fan, you’re a Peter Parker/Spider-Man fan. You only talk about this character on your blog. You’re a Marvel stan. I doubt you can't even name more than 5 Tom projects that aren't Spider-Man movies. You’re not obssesed with him, you’re obssesed with his version of the character which is not the same as being a fan of the actor and support his career outside of one thing.

Well this is a very rude way of supporting someone who only promotes kindness and adores his work with Spider-Man.

First of all, this is a Marvel side blog. So I only post about Marvel and adjacent things on here, in my personal life and other blogs I do have other interests. I will also say I have a hyperfixation on Marvel, especially the MCU, and my favourite character since I was a child is Spider-Man. So yes, that is my favourite Tom Holland role, he is my favourite spidey, so my blog focuses on him a lot. And the thing about hyperfixations is 1. I can't control it and 2. I am literally mentally ill about him.

But I do absolutely adore Tom Holland as an actor, so I'll take this as an opportunity to gush about some of my favourite projects of his!

The Crowded Room: If someone says Tom isn't a good actor I know for a fact they've never seen this. The amount of roles he plays in this, heavy and variable, was remarkable. Switching between the accents, mannerisms, even down to the way they stand. I was in complete awe, especially when he would switch between them without cuts. I watched an interview where he said he doesn't memorize scripts completely, but he learns the characters so deeply that he knows what they'd say and do anyways. To do that in a role like this just shows how seriously he takes the art. The story in and of itself was very moving, well written, and paced beautifully. I loved all the characters and how they fit together in order to protect Danny. 10/10 would recommend, there is heavy subject matter and I cried when he was on the stand and they didn't believe he had DID (especially when the man who loved him also started doubting if Ariana was real), and then again when he said Adam was him :(

Cherry: Incredibly real story, hurt my heart that people go through this. Tom did a fantastic job being respectful of the subject matter—a veteran with PTSD who falls into drug addiction and crime to fuel it. You can see his character harden over time, and I have a crush on the version of Cherry when he was in college hehe. The way he loves Emily so intensely through it all, how reverently he treats her, and his total breakdown when she overdoses. He rather have her clean and away from him than be together in their suffering. And it has a happy ending! Ngl Tom with a mustache made me giggle, just looks so silly lol. I know he can't grow facial hair to save his life

Uncharted: While Tom is fantastic in those heavy roles and I love seeing him cry, let my boy have fun! This movie was a great action movie, and idc about all the video game nerds who says he isn't a good fit for Nathan. He might not be Nathan, but he is BORN for action babyyy. Suave, intelligent, and sweet. I know he had a lot of fun with this role and is a big fan of the game, so happy he got it! I am still hoping for a sequel because I need Tom in more action and light-hearted films

Chaos Walking: The sci-fi aspects of this are really cool, and a unique way of commentating on patriarchy. The plot twists were cool and Todd Hewitt is my sweet little feminist king. He's so funny to me, bro is trying his best, I definitely view Todd as an underdog who has all this responsibility put on him. World building and characterization was sick, wish it got a bit more love

The Devil All the Time: Okay this movie was objectively really good but SO WEIRD? I felt very discomfited after. But Tom's character was definitely my absolute favourite, what a terrible journey he goes through. Even though the movie was odd Tom made it all worth it. A genuinely good guy pushed to do terrible things because of other terrible people, like yes you get em king!!! Had me on the edge of my seat

The Impossible: The fact that this was his first film!? SO INTENSE, and yet he did fantastic. Tom Holland didn't really plan to be an actor, he truly just had greatness thrust upon him. Scooped up as Billy Elliot, then scouted as Lucas in this film. He genuinely has a natural talent for this stuff, this movie is based off a true story and seeing the devastation and little Tom covered in dirt and grieving his family that is still alive, oh gosh. Heavy but the happy ending will make you cry.

Can I also say lip sync battle as one of my fave projects? I need this man to do more dancing or at least physical work. So enamored with him and his confidence. It's interesting looking back on that video after a recent interview he spoke about how young he was and eager, but as an adult (and the adults around him at the time) being more hesitant and cautious about putting yourself in the media like that. It's been cool watching Tom mature!

Films I would not recommend as a Tom Holland fan:

How I Live Now: Tom isn't in it that much, and it was a really slow, disturbing film. I felt sad, gross, and uncomfortable watching it, just for Tom to barely be seen. Do not recommend

Edge of Winter: Also a very disturbing film. Tom was in it more, but it's mostly a slow horror film without much closure, and Tom's character isn't that interesting. Bland and uncomfortable

Now I'm not interested in his animated voice work, and I don't like period pieces, so I haven't seen those films. But if they're great enough and Tom has a good role in them pls feel free to recommend!

I just want to say you don't need to hit a quota to be a fan of someone. If you like one song, book, film... you're allowed to call yourself a fan! Gate-keeping art is not cool, and even if someone only likes one character then that sure is one fantastic character. Spider-Man is something very important to Tom; it's a big part of his career, he met his future wife through it, it changed his world to become his childhood hero. And his depiction of Spider-Man is something very special to me. It isn't just the character, it's him; the freshness, the awkwardness, the naivety he brought to Peter that Andrew and Tobey didn't choose to do. It is such a fantastic character to show off his physical skills, humour, his range from childishness to the grief and fury. You look at him in Homecoming and compare it to NWH and you see how Tom has evolved the character. I'm in awe of every thing Tom Holland does, but Spider-Man is 6 huge projects of his and to be more, which shows so much of his skill.

I also love his interviews. He's a very down to Earth, sweet, and genuine man. I think he's funny, charismatic and confident, but has fantastic work-life balance. I watched that 2 hour interview of his talking about spirituality and mental health, and seeing where he is now with Bero after his struggles with alcohol warms my heart. I wish I could have seen his Romeo & Juliet production, but in the least I think it was a nice break from the big screen for him. And best believe I was fighting for my life in comment sections for his costars—the racism was disgusting. One day that man is going to be a father and we'll never see him again, and I'll support that too. Can't wait for his Nolan film, can't believe how far he's come so quickly, and oh yes, I'm most excited for more Spider-Man films ;)

#tom holland #ask #anon #thanks for giving me an opportunity to gush about one of my FAVE ACTORS #I'm assuming you are very young but it is not okay to hate on someone when they express love or joy for something harmless.#next time try “it seems you only like his one character so id recommend these great projects!”#they probably aren't even going to see this anyway #spider man #giggles #long post

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