#he isn’t trying to get a spotlight in any part of his life least of all when he’s vigilante-ing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kyoteugly · 24 days ago

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Disclaimer: This may be a bit chaotic (also sorry for my English), I never done this type of post before and I assume you know the show so I don’t go into details of every event - you saw them, you know what they’re about. And it all comes down to Buddie going canon. Here we go, enjoy! (warning 3,6k words)

If we take a look at 911 from a distance some things fall in an interesting pattern. I believe at least part of it is intentional. And if this theory is correct - standing ovations for the creators are in order, because they kept the continuity of the previous seasons while simultaneously re-launching the series. We have introductions of the main characters, we revisit big moments from their lives (sometimes in a more flashy way, sometimes more subtle), and we get a new perspective from them (those big moments) to show the character’s growth.

Ok, what’s the theory?

You should watch seasons 7 and 8 as seasons 1 and 2 on abc.

But Tim isn’t simply retelling the story. He takes the core emotion from a big event and puts it into new scenery with inclusion of how the character had changed over the seasons 1-6.

Before I jump into Buck and Eddie, let's look at a few examples.

ATHENA:

Introduction of Athena in season 1 goes with her marriage problems. The same in season 7 (it’s one-sided, because it’s her story, not Bobby’s).

May suicide attempt -> in season 7 there is this unnerving vibe around Bobby’s retiring actions, especially when Athena is talking with him (at least I felt this suicidal vibe and we all thought for a moment Bobby is responsible for their house burning down).

The reason why Athena became a cop, the tragic story of her fiance -> bringing back Jenkins in season 8. This plot could work without him, there could be just some no-name prisoner and Athena could simply get the order to escort him without any deep explanation - but the main core of this plot was to revisit Athena’s past.

She was attacked/in mortal danger on the job -> the whole plane disaster in season 8 (and I’ll get back to that because this is the key moment in Bathena story, this is their core).

BOBBY:

His alcoholism is haunting him and it leads to his house burning down while he’s trying to save his wife (and all of this is the result of his actions). His arc in season 7 covers his past.

And also his relationship with the 118 get’s the familiar spotlight - him being a father figure for the team. Everyone comes to him for advice while he’s forced to be away from his firehouse - and during those conversations he’s in the middle of planning his future with Athena (previously their wedding, now it’s about their new home).

As for them as a couple it’s the plot lines of Athena being attacked and her landing the plane. She is in danger, doing her job, he is the one watching/listening. But while in the past he was powerless, merely an audience to her fight, now he is her partner, he’s in danger with her and it’s his choice (with the cruise ship they both were thrown into the danger, this wasn’t the parallel to the past). And yes, this is their characteristic, but when you’re new to the show, you started watching it with season 7, you may not know this about them… so here, Tim is showing you what Bathena is about, ride or die partners with unwavering faith in each other.

Again, the core element of the big moment and the emotional growth/journey of the characters (introduction while keeping the continuity - revisiting the events, not retelling them).

HEN:

She has a very big plot line that includes a few big events from her life.

The plot with Ortiz’s son reminds me of the girl Hen hit with an ambulance. Back then Hen was a mess, doubtful about herself, and people around her reminded her that she did everything right. Now she doesn’t doubt, she’s sure, even when there is not enough conviction from her team.

Following this plot we have the whole thing with Ortiz and Mara - which basically is covering the same core aspect we saw with Eva and Denny.

For Hen, family is the most important, actually for her and Karen - and this part also shows their journey as the power couple - because now they’re fighting together for their child (against Ortiz) and not with each other (like it was when Eva was threatening their family). They’re much stronger now, after all those years, family love guiding them through life.

CHIM & MADDIE:

They both have their respective episodes in season 7.

Chimney: Why put Doug there? Why Kevin and karaoke bar (the backstory of how Chim became a firefighter) if not for the introduction of the character, for revisiting his big moments…?

Maddie and the call with the abducted woman -> we learn later it was her stalker not her husband, but Maddie assumes it’s the husband because of her own trauma. And in the same episode her postpartum depression is also addressed -> the abducted woman is separated from her baby - it’s symbolic but it’s there (like I said, not everything is flashy).

As for Madney - it’s all in the way they’re looking for each other when their mental state is in question (past - Maddie in Boston, present - Chim being sick). Their emotional journey lies in the way of how sure of their love they are. Again, in the past they were taking things slow, finding each other but giving each other space and time, careful “i love you” etc - Now they speed things up by getting married right away, right there in the hospital - because they’re sure.

There are more core things (and revisits) to all characters but I won’t go deeper into this because I want to talk about Buddie (with more details)... so…

All 3 power couples got introduced and redefined anew for the new audience, but the core of what makes them Bathena, Henren, and Madney remained the same - just bigger, bolder, stronger… What remains, in the spectrum of main relationships, waiting to receive the same treatment, is Buddie.

EDDIE:

Through season 7 and 8 so far we got to see main aspects of Eddie - soldier, father, widower, best friend (yes, there are elements of them being more, of some deeper feelings, especially from Eddie’s side - this is the part of the continuity from previous seasons… but because seasons 7 and 8 are new seasons 1 and 2, Buddie is leaning a little more to the “best friends” side - for now… it just started to change with episode 8x05).

We learn about Eddie’s character - he’s caring but also sassy, he works great under pressure, he’s not superstitious, he panics when relationships get too serious (not full blown panic attacks this time, but catholic guilt plays the same role here).

The big moment from Eddie’s past is Shannon’s death. The show can’t tell this story again, can’t kill Shannon again, but they can show the new audience the impact Shannon had (and still has) on Eddie’s life -> and here we have the whole “Kim plot”.

One more thing worth mentioning about Eddie and parallels is that he left Chris and his wife in the past -> now Chris is the one who left him, and the only relationship his son has to offer to Eddie is a glitching facetime video in a moment of the day when he’s busy (Chris) - sounds familiar.

Yes, there are more big moments in previous seasons, but each of them is intertwined with Buck, ergo can’t be discussed without him. So let’s jump into Buck now.

BUCK:

Just like with Eddie we get the reminder of main characteristic of Buck in form of: infodumping, ingenuity, thinking outside the box, being good/capable on a job, abandonment issues (Eddie spending time with Tommy), craving for approval/affirmation (he hates Gerrard and still seeks that pat on the back and “good boy” comment), his spiraling and believe in supernatural, and he’s like a kid in 118 family.

I feel like we got all of his aspects (and the same with Eddie’s) that we know from previous seasons in an easy to swallow pill, coated with a bit of comedy.

Big moments in Buck’s life include Eddie, but there are few relationships that are very important to this character that are highlighted in seasons 7 and 8).

Christopher. For now we don’t really see the depth of Buck’s and Chris' relationship. New audience can safely say he is somewhat of a “fun uncle” for Chris (right now Chris is his best friend’s son) - this is because we still haven’t seen the equivalent of what created the bond between them - the tsunami (I believe we will get that when Chris comes back from Texas or his return will include scenes related to their bond and this big event from their lives).

Maddie. This one is simple for now, they’re great siblings, they support each other, the upcoming scene with Maddie should add more.

Best friend Eddie - partners on a job and in crime, knowing each other so well they can read every small signals (it’s mostly visible in 7x01 and 8x01), showing up for each other etc - you all know what I mean - Eddie jumping into idea of bachelor party, Buck confronting Eddie about Kim, Buck’s coming out, Eddie asking for help with Chris (twice) - all of that have (mostly) subtle Buddie themed moments (smiles, looks, wording) but what screams loudly is that they’re best friends (like you’ve never seen better friends than them). Like I said before it started to change in 8x05, and even earlier we see a little bit more of Eddie, like he’s kind of in the background - just remember this, I’ll explain in more details later.

Bobby. This relationship is highlighted the most, and after the first 3 episodes of season 8 nobody has any doubt that Bobby is like a father to Buck (in case somebody missed it in 7x10). In previous seasons we saw how this father-son thing evolved between them (whole season 1, lawsuit, Buck spiraling because of radiation Bobby “absorbed”, coma dream, etc), and now we get the speed run through it to establish how it works.

There is one more very important relationship in Buck’s life that also counts as Buck’s big moment. And it’s Abby, who is represented by Tommy. Older, more experienced love interest, who shows Buck he still has something to learn about relationships, who changes his perspective. It goes further. Remember the guy who was catfishing girls with Buck’s photos? Remember when he was in a meeting with Abby and a girl came up to them? Abby didn’t like what she heard and left Buck cold in that cafe/restaurant. Sounds familiar? Yeah, it should. His first date with Tommy, interrupted by someone, where Tommy didn’t like Buck’s behavior and left him on a curb. What’s important, none of them (not Tommy nor Abby) told him it was over, they were disappointed, of course, but left with the vibe “contact me when you grow up”/”I don’t do dramas”. Again, this is parallel, the revisit to the past event (core of the scenes remains) but the point here is not to tell the same story again but show something new, so Buck’s relationship with Tommy goes in its own way.

I would like to address the lightning strike here, because I believe this event won’t get “the revisit” treatment. It was mentioned in background in season 7 - the locker room scene with Eddie and how Buck tells Tommy the night they met was the best one he had since he died (or something like that). So the lightning strike exists already in season 7 and 8 narrative for the new audience.

Ok. In previous seasons we saw all main couples dating and getting married - basically becoming what they are now. And we saw how Buck’s and Eddie’s relationship grew and evolved throughout the seasons - but they never reached the status of a couple.

So we are now at 8x05, we have all main characters introduced, all power couples redefined by some huge events that made them stronger. We have Buck and Eddie - best friends for life - now is the time to show Buddie of it all.

BUDDIE:

Believe it or not, episode 5 is about Buddie in so many ways, but not in a way you think it is… It’s about retelling their emotional journey, their bonding path and what makes their relationship so special. Yes, I’m using “retelling” here, because the story of their feelings never reached the conclusion, it was always between the lines, and now it can be told anew. Tim already had the perfect recipe for them, so now he is using the core ingredients, to once more reach the point where making them a couple will feel natural. It’s not only about making them canon, it’s about telling beautiful love story - patience is important, their emotional state is the key and has to be set up just right.

Ok. Masks. This title is a red herring in itself. If we talk about who is wearing a mask the answer is simple - everybody, it’s a Halloween episode. Going deeper we can say - it’s Eddie with his ‘fine’ mask. Let’s go even deeper, it’s not a noun “masks” (in plural), it’s a verb. The whole episode is masking itself, and it’s masking who the story is about. We have two major plot lines here, Buck’s (a comedy) and Henren (drama), both very loud and over the top, making the audience look in one way when in the background another story is unfolding. Red herrings everywhere.

What are the big moments from Buck’s and Eddie’s life that are hidden in this episode? When did Buddie truly start? Firetruck, tsunami, lawsuit, fight club, divorce era… yes, it’s all there… well, tsunami is only mentioned there because it’s Buck and Chis arc, but the important moment for Buddie after the tsunami is still represented in this episode by Karen’s words “You saved him”. Let’s break it down.

BUCK:

Firetruck: the event itself is represented in Denny’s accident. He’s pinned by the vehicle, Karen is holding his hand while others are trying to save him, there is and audience to his tragedy, a lot of people (in this case firefighters) are working together (building the construction) to get him out, the accident was caused by a man who was driven by vengeance/seeking justice, in the end Denny has his leg in cast - the same leg Buck had.

Lawsuit: The whole Buck’s curse plot - injury on a job (to his limb), aftermath of which he ends up with a medical condition (boils = blood thinners), which causes him to focus solely on himself. Buck is so self absorbed in this episode he doesn’t notice his own boyfriend, let alone his best friend (if you want me to write a longer post about Buddie in corelation to Buck and Tommy and why imo Buck is a lame boyfriend in this episode let me know - I won’t do that in this post).

The things above are like playing with the form of what I mentioned before - revisiting previous events. What’s important here is the emotional state of Buck. He learns very quickly he can come back to his job (Eddie is asking about it, because he knows how important it is for Buck) but the boils ultimately send him on a spiral and right back to the self absorbed state of mind - and the reason for it is to make him blind on what’s going on with Eddie.

EDDIE:

Fight club and divorce era are played out here only in Eddie’s emotional state because the show is putting Eddie in the background on purpose so we can’t have big moments played out in a form of parallel scenes.

But just like with the fight club, Eddie is distancing himself from the firefam. I said already that Eddie is kinda in the background - this is the part where we can see Eddie isolated and alone, in this episode it screams the loudest (compared to the previous ones).

The haunted house - Hen is terrifying, Chim is scary, even Buck, whose job was to give out candy, managed to freak everybody out (including himself) - only Eddie is this lame and cringe werewolf wannabe. This is a metaphorical, subtle way to show he stands out from the rest of the team. He’s with them but he is alone in the crowd. They have to ask him about Chris, he’s not talking about him himself and he’s keeping his ‘i’m fine’ mask on (pun intended). In fight club era Eddie is grieving after Shannon, now he’s grieving his relationship with Chris. He’s hiding his pain just like he was hiding his bruises.

Divorce era can be seen in a way Eddie interacts with Buck. He’s losing his patience sooner than usual, is meaner in his comments because he’s running on fumes, getting closer to his breaking point (it could escalate, we know he can snap when he can’t deal with his emotions). He doesn’t look at Buck - and I know, it’s because of the things on Buck’s face, hiding behind the magazine, sucking on lollipop… but honestly, do we actually believe that? Or the comedy of those scenes masked that they’re disconnected right now (actually they’re disconnected since Gerrard made them work separately. How they miss each other's eyes in the courtroom - it started there). The episode ends so blatantly showing us Buck talking bullshit with his head so far up his behind he doesn’t think for a second that Eddie needs him. And Eddie, well, he’s fighting alone, just like he was when he stepped into the ring.

WHAT’S NEXT:

If I’m right about all this, and not just insane, we will see 4 more big events - or rather the emotional state those events invoked.

Kitchen scene - Buck being sorry for not being there for Eddie, when he needed him (the tension aspect of the scene would be nice, but the actual core of this scene is Buck admitting he failed Eddie and Eddie actually listening and accepting Buck’s words).

Well - Eddie has to save himself, deal with something on his own (with only briefly mentioning Buck, mostly Chris).

Will - this has to be addressed at some point. We know about the will but people who started watching from season 7 don’t. This will be clear, no red herrings, no telling story in the background.

Shooting arc - Buck being scared he may lose Eddie. It doesn’t have to be a near death experience, it can be Eddie deciding he’ll move to Texas - the core is fear of losing his… right, what? Best friend? When we reach this point they’ll be more, and “best friends” term won’t be enough, not even to the general audience.

After that we can start talking about Buddie canon.

Of course there will be more scenes, new scenes, the characters are still growing but in my opinion Tim is trying to set up and show similar emotional journey for them, right up to the point when we should have had Buddie… and he will pick up where he left them, messed up and vulnerable and so in love with each other it’s overwhelming (shooting arc)… then we will go in a straight line to the Buddie canon.

I don’t want to make predictions, I’m bad at it. I prefer to analyze. But in my opinion and what I know about the next episode, I think the well call will serve as a reminder about Eddie Begins, the actual connection between past and present will be in the mustache scene (or right before the mustache scene).

Final thoughts.

We all see the parallels between different characters and between previous seasons and new ones. We get frustrated about some plot lines and episodes (Bobby episode, Kim plot line)... But if you take a few steps back and look at season 7 as season 1 it makes sense to show these threads again. If you look at all the elements we talk about as a fandom you will see it’s one huge project, not just hints placed here and there. And it’s not just for the benefit of long term fans, it’s for the new audience to get to know these characters, to fall in love with them, to make them curious enough to watch previous seasons.

We all feel it, this carefree vibe from season 1, we’re all falling in love again, saying season 8 has what’s the best in 911, has it all. And I believe it’s because of what I wrote above, these new introductions of characters and relationships.

One relationship remains to be shown in all its beautiful and unhinged glory - Buddie.

And I believe once we get the equivalent of a shooting arc we will get Buddie canon - this time Tim will tell their story how he wanted - with Buck and Eddie together, as a couple, as soulmates.

Wow, this was long. Sorry for the chaos, I never done this type of post before, but I hope you got the gist of it and enjoyed it. Remember, it’s only my opinion, I could be wrong (honestly, I probably am xP) but I wanted to share my thoughts because I got very hyped up about it. Feel free to contact me if you want.

Tagging some people who may be interested (if you want me to remove you from this post let me know): @buddiebeginz @stagefoureddiediaz @lemotmo @inell @jackwhiteprophetic @lover-of-mine @loveyourownsmiilee

Part 2, episode Confessions - HERE

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buck buckely #911 abc #my stuff #911 meta #buddie meta #if not buddie why buddie shaped?#911 analysis #911 parallels

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sheisaquarius-blog · 2 months ago

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hi! for anthony’s day can you do something with ianthony getting together with jealous!anthony? btw i love your fics you’re so talented!!!

OH BOY CAN I, I LOVE JEALOUS ANTHONY!!! i'm sure you wanted something sweet and fluffy, but i am on my usual bullshit and made it long and angsty OTL sorry!!! i hope it's still an enjoyable read! and it ends happy!

ps- sorry i'm late! if you sent me an anthony's day prompt and i haven't posted it yet, you WILL see it! i just over estimated how fast i can write, but i'm going to fill each and every one!

Anthony thinks a lot. Not that other people don’t, he just suspects that they have an easier time turning off the faucet of thoughts, or at least letting it fade into the white noise of their minds. Anthony has trouble with that. A lot of trouble. Every one of his thoughts is loud and demanding and takes up the limited space he has in his brain. Most of the time it doesn’t bother him because he’s learned to make peace with a lot of it. He’s learned to acknowledge those thoughts for what they are and control them, channel them. Pain and anxiety were hard, but he’s managed. He has outlets, mantras, things that keep him firmly in reality when those thoughts start to overwhelm his mind and make him burn from the inside out.

His real problem is jealousy. Its roots are wrapped so deep in his bones he’d need to pull back the layers of calcium to extract the tendrils from his marrow where they nestle and feed off him. Pain and anxiety are water, they rain on him, he could drown in them if he isn’t careful, but in the end, they are things that pour over him. He fears his jealousy has always grown out of him, is intrinsic to him.

He hides it well for most of his life. Not so well that no one notices, but well enough they think it’s just normal, average jealousy. A bit childish, maybe, but not the more sinister, dark, suffocating thing that’s truly inside him.

As he grows, he manages it well enough to not make it other people’s problems (most of the time), but it eats away at him in a way he can’t control.

Not everything spikes it. He doesn’t mind sharing the spotlight—in fact he greatly prefers it. He isn’t bothered by friends’ accomplishments—those are their own.

What does bother him is singular attention. That’s the best way he knows how to put it. For an audience, Anthony would much rather be a part of something than the whole; he built two channels out of that. Smosh isn’t a one man show, and interviews don’t work very well with just one person, but when it comes to being the most important thing to one single person, Anthony is not particularly willing to share.

He's jealous in relationships, he knows that. It’s caused plenty of arguments. It worries him, he doesn’t want to be toxic, but he needs to be the most important thing to them. He can feel himself choking on his jealousy when things change and he isn’t that precious thing anymore. It’s a slow death he suffers through each time.

Apparently, that goes double for business partners because Anthony truly, genuinely worried he was going to suffocate when Anthony asked Ian to leave with him and he didn’t. His body felt hollow and burned through, like everything important in him was drained.

He’s gotten marginally better in their years apart. He doesn’t think he’s any less jealous, but he lets his flares bounce back against himself rather than out at other people.

Damn if it doesn’t catch him off guard every once in a while, though, which is how Anthony ends up breathing through his teeth at a dark, loud, too-cool party, watching Ian laugh at someone’s joke across the room as some guy clasps his shoulder to keep from doubling over.

Anthony already hates parties. It’s a manageable hate, but he does. This, though—watching Ian laugh and smile and talk and treasure someone else makes that jealousy rip through him, choking him by the throat like a fucked-up willow is trying to grow out of there. He wants to leave, except he doesn’t, because then he has to leave Ian and, well, he did that once already. He isn’t sure he’ll get a third chance. Ian does catch his eye, and there’s something of a balm for that awful thing inside him. It’s blue eyes that see him. He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until Ian crosses the dark room towards him.

“Hey,” Ian says. “You ready to go?”

Anthony shakes his head. He can’t make himself say the word ‘no,’ it’s too big of a lie, but he can deal with this for Ian’s sake. He has Ian’s attention right now, so he could endure a lot worse to keep it.

Ian takes a sip of his drink without letting his eyes leave Anthony, bright blue in this dark room. “Well, I think I’m done, but we can hang here if you want, I guess.” Anthony can’t lie, but he’s jealous. Ian isn’t jealous, but he can lie. Like a snake eating its own tail, chasing itself in circles.

“You don’t have to be done,” Anthony says. His eyes flicker to that guy Anthony definitely knows of but can’t name, who’s staring at Ian across the way, a little longing and a little awestruck. He doesn’t blame him, but he doesn’t forgive him either. “But maybe we should get some air?” he suggests.

Ian nods. “Sure.”

They wander outside together, past loud conversation and louder music, into the much lighter LA night air. A breeze rustles through the patio and it makes Anthony aware of how warm he was inside, catching on the light sheen of sweat on his skin. Ian sighs and leans against the side of the house-slash-mansion. It’s quiet between them, but Anthony likes it, until those gnarled fingers dig into him, and he starts to wonder: is Ian here with him or still back inside?

“Who was that?” he asks casually.

Ian rubs under the bridge of his glasses. “Theo? I dunno, I guess he’s, like, a food guy or something. I met him guesting on a podcast last year.”

“Cool,” Anthony says. “Yeah, I was surprised he remembered me.” Anthony nods. He exhales through his nose, but he doesn’t feel like he’s breathing.

Ian shrugs. “We really can go if you want. I’m pretty much done here.”

“Pretty much?” Anthony asks before he can stop himself.

Ian gives him a look. Anthony thinks he should be able to read it, there’s something so direct in Ian’s gaze. “Just a figure of speech. C’mon, let’s just go.”

Anthony can’t help himself; this is where his jealousy is layered too deep, this is his instinct, his nature. “You wanna say bye to Theo first?”

“No,” Ian says without a second thought or a moment of hesitation, like Anthony wasn’t just the brattiest, pettiest person he knows. “He’s fine without me, Anthony.”

“He didn’t look fine when you left.”

“Ok, fine. Well, I don’t care what he looked like. Enough, Anthony. I’m right here.”

Anthony doesn’t say anything. He can still taste that bitter blackness on his tongue.

Ian rolls his eyes. “Your dramatic ass is gonna be the end of me one day,” he mutters, more to himself than anything, then he grabs Anthony’s shirt and pulls him in.

That’s how Anthony ends up kissing Ian for the first time against cool stone at a party he doesn’t want to be at because he can’t keep his jealousy in check. Anthony is probably always going to be jealous, always going to have that bitter, rotten ugliness in there, always going to have to fight it. But maybe it was more to do with missing something he needed. Maybe he’s been trying to feed something that doesn’t want him, or maybe Ian just makes it gentler. Either way, as they break apart, that sharp, craving ache inside Anthony’s bones eases just a bit.

“Dumbass,” Ian smirks, only inches from his face, eyes wandering all over his face like he can’t get enough of Anthony’s stupefied expression.

Anthony swallows, and it tastes like Ian. The beast in his stomach tears into it hungrily, finally sated.

“So, two options,” Ian says. “We leave right now, just bolt for the car. Or,” he takes Anthony’s hand in his, “we go say goodbye to Theo together.”

Anthony can barely process what Ian’s saying, there’s so much room to breathe in his chest, things feel so easy, like all his bones have snapped into alignment. He tries, though, and Ian is patient for him. Before he answers, he kisses Ian again, feels him shift against the side of the house to get closer, to touch more of him, like he wants to be near that deep, ugly, choking jealousy.

“Fuck Theo,” Anthony breathes when they part.

Ian shakes his head. “Nah. Just you.” Anthony laughs. “Okay,” he agrees, leaning in for one more kiss. “Okay.”

#my writing #smosh #smosh fic #ask #anthony's day 2024

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yellowkitkieran · 2 years ago

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To Have and To Heal (Part 3)

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Read part 1 here

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

Martin isn't usually bothered when people don't pay attention to him. In fact most days he prefers it that way instead of having people swarm him to ask for photos or autographs, especially when he's with Atla. He wants her out of the spotlight as much as possible, and it's nice when people respect that.

But when it comes to you Martin is curious to say the least. Last week you'd been friendly and always had a smile to offer him when you spoke. This afternoon when he picked Atla up from school you seemed off, almost like you were distancing yourself for some reason. Now, he knows you aren't exactly friends by any stretch and that's fine, though your sudden change in demeanor rubs him the wrong way, and he can't quite put his finger on why it's so important to him.

It doesn't sit well with him. He thought you were finally seeing him as an equal and not just another parent. Perhaps this is the universe's way of telling him not to try and make friends with people outside his current circle. He should probably listen. Then again, Martin is a stubborn man and he doesn't heed warning signs often.

Martin has the fleeting thought that perhaps Atla has heard something. Kids do tend to hear things they shouldn't, like some sort of weird sixth sense. Maybe his daughter overheard you talking with another teacher and can provide him with some sort of clue.

So Martin clears his throat and does his best to sound casual, as if his toddler would understand the gravity of what he is about to ask. "Attie, have you heard anything about Miss. Sunshine lately?"

Atla's nose scrunches up, "What do you mean pa? I see her every day! I hear her all the time!"

Martin shakes his head and goes back to chopping carrots for their dinner. He's had a beef stew planned for weeks now, and tonight he finally found the time to block out to make it. "Nevermind elskling. What are you working on?"

"I'm finishing up my geography project." Thankfully, Atla's one track mind immediately distracts her from his earlier question. "We have to color all the countries in the world and then put them up on the wall to make one big map- each of us has a whoooole bunch to do, and I want mine to be the prettiest!"

Martin peeks over her shoulder. She's currently outlining freehand flowers within the border of Germany, her colored pencils lined up next to her paper in rainbow order. Martin smiles as she picks up the red and colors in a few of her blooms, "red huh? That's my favorite color you know. Perfect choice."

"It's mine too! I like red flowers the best, like the ones that grow in our garden."

"Mum's flowers," Martin notes, kissing the top of Atla's head when she nods. Tulips were Maria's favorite and she planted bunches of red ones in the gardens each year. Atla loved digging in the dirt with her, ruining whatever adorable outfit she was dressed in that day. Martin never cared about the stained clothes because clothes can be replaced- the memories Alta made with her mum can not.

Once their dinner is simmering on the stove and filling the house with a mouthwatering aroma, Martin sits at the table to help Atla. "Am I allowed to help?"

"Ja! Here take the oransje one pa-"

"Orange," Martin offers, having correctly assumed she had forgotten the English translation. She smiles ruefully, melting Martin's heart as she passes him a sheet."

"Orange. Now get to work pappa!"

Martin follows her instructions on what portion to color in yellow or blue or orange. He uses his left hand so it's a bit more authentic and toddler looking, his shading uneven and slightly outside the lines.

Her ability to boss him around is unmatched, and he finds himself wondering not for the first time how solid of a leader Atla would be on a football pitch. She has the right balance between raw spark and assertiveness that would make her an important part of any team once she was a little older. For now, he'll enjoy her just as she is: an innocent girl whose only wish is to color her assignment with her pappa.

Once he finishes with Canada, he hands the sheet back and Atla claps her hands. "It's perfect pa! You did a good job! This one is my favorite so far because we did it together! You need to sign it in the corner so everyone knows it's yours."

Martin takes the paper that she thrusts in his direction, using a pen to sign his name on the bottom edge. He then tucks it safely in her folder to return to the classroom along with the others she's finished so far. Martin rests his chin on his fist, watching her carefully finish up the page she's working on now. There's a bit of purple paint smudged on her arm; where that's come from he has no idea. But it only further cements the image of his little artistic prodigy, brightening the world one brushstroke at a time.

"Can I use my fancy markers for the last one?" She points to the cabinet on her left, where Martin keeps her crayons, papers, feathers, and other craft supplies. "We're supposed to color with different things. Jake used rice for his- but that's messy and isn't very pretty! I want mine to be pretty. Can I pleaseeeeee use my fancy markers pappa?"

Since she was a baby, Atla has had a knack for creativity and it has always been important to Martin that he nurture that side of her. Last Christmas he bought her a set of professional artist markers that cost him a pretty penny. She recognized the brand immediately as the same ones her favorite YouTube artist used for their drawings and fell in love at the first swipe of pigment on paper.

His only rule is that he is home when she uses them and that she asks before grabbing them. He'd needed to implement that after she ruined her first set by leaving the caps off after a midnight art session, forcing him to buy a new set to avoid a total meltdown.

"Yes elskling, thank you for asking. You can grab them- two hands on that container please!"

Atla's tongue pokes out when she carefully carries the pink plastic box to the dining room table. She sets the box down and climbs onto her chair, looking at Martin for help to scoot it in so she can better reach her work surface. She gets right to work, grabbing her next country and carefully outlining abstract shapes within its borders.

"Pretty soon I'll have to fit you with a proper studio," Martin half jokes. "I think you're outgrowing the dining table. What do you say, should I turn that playroom of yours into a little art space?"

Atla squirms in her seat, ponytail bouncing as she nods, "yes please! I would really really love that- could I have one of those stand up tables too? A staffeli for my paintings!"

Martin grins, reaching over to grab her under her arms and hoist her into his lap for a hug. "I can get you an easel søta, that's for sure! And you know what…" Martin leans down, cupping his hands to her ear like he's letting her in on a secret, "I'll even let you paint the walls."

Atla squeals, doing an adorable little happy dance. Martin decides then and there that her bright, soul-touching smile in this moment is well worth any paint that splatters on the flooring in the future. She throws her arms around his neck, squeezing with all her strength.

"Thank you pa! I know what I'm gonna do, I'm gonna paint it to look like the forest! But I'll need help… I'm too small to paint the tall trees!"

One day, Atla will be big and strong. She won't need Martin's help to reach the top cabinet or put her gloves on before school. She'll be her own person, equipped with the tools to take on the world. So for now, Martin will take any chance he can get to help her, no matter how big or small the task may be.

He tugs lightly on one of her pigtails, "That's what you have a pappa for Attie, I'll help you with the tall bits okay?" When his daughter nods, Martin nudges another colorless sheet towards her. "One left, so finish this one up while I finish dinner. Maybe we'll see about doing something fun after."

Atla taps the end of a marker to her chin, leaving a few pink dots on her skin that Martin wipes off with a towel. "The park! Could we go to the park so I can go on the swings?"

"Finish your assignment and eat your dinner, then we can talk."

**********

Martin needs to work on saying 'no' to Atla because at this rate, she'll have him wrapped around her finger forever. Atla had finished her assignment but not her dinner, and yet Martin still followed through on his promise to take her to the park. One glimpse of her sad eyes and downturned mouth did him in and he had caved immediately.

Atla is independent enough that she unbuckles herself from her car seat with no problems, but thankfully, she's still small enough to want to hold Martin's hand to cross the car park.

"Hey- slow down søta, no running when there's cars around remember? Look both ways." He waits until she obeys, then looks at him for confirmation before he nods. "Okay, now you can go."

Atla tugs him along at a jog, giggling with excitement when the playground comes into view. He drops her hand as soon as their feet touch the grass and Atla takes off like a rocket, her hot pink coat making it easy to spot her as she climbs the steps of the playground. Martin smiles, keeping an eye on her as he heads for a bench to sit at.

Only a handful of years ago, Martin doubted he'd have the opportunity for a family. Footballer life is difficult, with long hours and lengthy stretches spent away from home. It's a job that is as stressful as it is rewarding, and days like these are definitely worth it. He loves being able to switch off, blending in with all the other parents and guardians whose children play in groups around the park, laughing and chasing each other through invented games. No one cares who he is here. He could be the prime minister and no one would bat an eye.

One of his favorite things about London culture is how the parents look after all the children, not just their own. So Martin has no problem pulling out his phone to read a few chapters of a book, secure in the knowledge that Attie will be safe among her peers thanks to the hawk-eyed mums scattered around the park.

Martin manages a few minutes of peace before Atla's shout has his head snapping up, "Miss Sunshine!" He scans the immediate vicinity to try and spot you, trying to pinpoint Atla's location.

"Oh, hello Atla! What are you doing here?" Martin shoves his phone in his pocket when he sees you crouched in front of Atla, fixing the buttons on her jacket. "Where's your pappa?"

The way you say 'pappa' has his stomach twisting. Your accent is nearly nonexistent and it makes him wonder if you know a touch of Norwegian.

"Over there," Atla says, pointing in Martin's general direction. He waves when you glance at him. The smile he offers you turns to a frown when you almost instantly turn away.

"Well, why don't you go play with my nephew? His name is Jack, I'm sure you'll get along great! He's in the blue and purple coat over there- go say hello!"

"Okay Miss Sunshine!" Atla laughs, running over to the boy and introducing herself. She suggests they play on the slides and Jack happily accepts- which is as much of their conversation as Martin overhears.

He wants to speak with you. Why are his palms sweaty? He wipes them on his jeans as he stands to make his way over to you. A tight lipped smile is all you greet him with- again with that frosty, formal feeling between the two of you.

"Hello," Martin says, opting for simple and polite.

"Hi. My nephew," you offer before he can ask, pointing to the brunette Atla is being chased by. "My brother and sister in law are out of town on some second honeymoon thing."

He takes the opportunity to open a dialog, "Ah, I see. And I take it that you're the designated babysitter?"

You nod, arms crossed over your chest. "Yep, I guess I am. Never mind that my mum would love to have her grandson around for a full week, I'm first in line for some reason."

"Because you're a teacher, yeah? I can see the logic there I suppose. Good with kids and all that."

Martin wants you to laugh so he keeps his tone light and joking, but instead you look uncomfortable. "Yeah, probably."

He isn't sure what's suddenly changed between you, seeing as you seemed fine with him during the stadium tour not long ago. He is sure that he doesn't want you to think he expects you to speak with him though, so he clears his throat and scuffs his toe through the dirt.

"Well, I'll leave you be. Atla and I usually come here after dinner on most weekdays, so if Jack has some extra energy to burn off, he'll have a playmate if you come back."

Again, you offer Martin a tight, almost forced smile and shift on your feet. "Thanks Mr. Ødegaard- I'll see you at early drop off tomorrow?"

Martin's stomach sinks. He can't force you to be friendly with him, as much as he wishes you would be. "Yes, you will. Have a good night, Miss. Sunshine."

Martin retreats to the bench he was at earlier and forces himself to continue reading. It only takes a handful of minutes for him to realize that his efforts are pointless; he won't remember a word he has read with his head as messy as it is right now. If you let him know what he'd done wrong, he could fix it. Your stubborn silence and sudden change of mood leaves him scrambling to figure it out on his own, and he's coming up empty.

Maybe it does all come back to those drinks he'd ordered. He'd stepped out of line with that, firmly crossing a boundary that you drew in the sand. Granted he had no idea that you had drawn one but still, he should've known better than to treat you like an old friend when you were employed at his daughter's school. Whatever it is, he's determined to set things right. Because after running into you in public for the second time in as many weeks, he's determined to get to know you.

Only because of Atla. That's what he tells himself. The way his stomach flips when you call him by his first name has nothing to do with it. Martin's fascination with you comes purely from a place of love for his daughter and a need to see her happy… not because he thinks you're attractive.

Because he certainly hasn't thought that each time he's seen you lately. No, not at all. Not even once. You aren't even his type- and maybe that's why he's so terrified. Whatever the case, he's already mentally cleared his nightly schedule for the next week in favor of planning to come to the park each day. On the off chance you return, he'll be here waiting.

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fantasy #footballer fic #footballer fanfiction #footballer fluff #footballer imagine #arsenal fc #jac writes #alt timeline lover

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sshbpodcast · 8 months ago

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Character Spotlight: Odo

by Ames

The security chief of Deep Space Nine is a lot of things: a bird, a tripwire, a glass, a bag… The list goes on and on (though our favorite is usually when he’s a cute little rat), and all of them add up to a whole that is greater than the sum of his parts. In a world full of solids, Odo fills in that Outsider Character™ whose quest to shape his identity makes for a truly engaging character journey, though many stops along the way do dabble in fascism. But we love him anyway.

So kick back in your bucket and get ready to melt as your hosts at A Star to Steer Her By explore the many, many faces of Odo, even ones for which he can’t quite get the ears right. We’ve got our favorite moments and a whole bunch of times he messed up royally below and discussed this week on the podcast (jump to 1:05:53). Harumph!

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best moments

No one has ever seen me like this before We’ve brought up this one before in our fan-favorite Lwaxana Troi post, but it’s always worth dipping into again. Forever the tightass of the station, Odo lets himself be vulnerable with our hot Betazoid mama in “The Forsaken,” and it’s such a thing of beauty for these two polar opposite characters to show each other the hidden sides of themselves.

Do holograms dream of holographic sheep? We really liked the little hologram girl Taya in “Shadowplay” when we did our Children in Star Trek post, and apparently so does Odo! Who’d have thought that the station’s chief wallflower would have such a soft spot for kids? And then he sticks up for Taya and all of the holograms because, real or not, they still qualify as people to him.

You flatter me, sir, you flatter me! Last week, we marveled at how often Miles O’Brien gets to suffer across the series, and in “Tribunal,” Odo really does his darndest to keep the chief alive. By acting as nestor in the sham Cardassian trial, Odo at the very least slows down the inevitable enough for Sisko to reveal the corruption inherent in their awful, awful legal system. O’Brien’s lawyer sure wasn’t any help!

From one laboratory specimen to another Like he did with Taya in “Shadowplay,” Odo identifies with the Jem’Hadar child in “The Abandoned.” When he realizes that Starfleet is probably going to subject him to the same kinds of tests Odo underwent as a baby blob, he takes the kid under his wing to try to treat him more like a person. It doesn’t do much good, but at least Odo got to return him to his people.

You won’t be turning against them. They will have turned against you. We joke a lot on the podcast about how much of a fascist Odo can be. And he sure can, as you’ll see in the Worst Moments list, but he does a great job not succumbing to the draw of oppressing human rights in “Paradise Lost.” One of our favorite Evil Admirals, James Leyton, masterminds a military coup and Odo is there to work with Sisko to stop him in his tracks!

One raktajino, extra hot, two measures of kava Before Kira starts boringly pining after that dullard Shakaar in “Crossfire,” we get treated to some sweet scenes of Odo and her going about their morning briefings. And it’s downright adorable! Every morning, Odo replicates up a mug of raktajino just how Kira likes it and prepares for his chat with the major in a way that gets things off on the right foot. Cute!

Before I met her, my world was a much smaller place We have one more great Odo-Lwaxana moment to extol. It is just the tenderest, most selfless act for Odo to marry Lwaxana to get her and her baby out from under the rule of her Tavnian husband Jeyal in “The Muse.” When Odo declares all that Lwaxana has done for him and how she changed his life, we are amazed at how honest the speech is. Here’s to the happy couple!

Hardly the words of a Klingon Odo also proves to understand Klingon culture better than other Changelings (and probably some Klingons, for that matter!) in “Apocalypse Rising.” When Martok isn’t acting at all honorably about dispatching Gowron, Odo figures out that it’s Martok who’s the Changeling and exposes him to a crowd of the most honorable Klingons on Q’onos. And Gowron. Qapla’!

Well that’s fine with me, because I hate you too How could we complete a Best Moments list without mentioning his complex relationship with Quark? Their natural opposition and trademark snark make them excellent foils for each other, and though they claim the opposite in “The Ascent,” you can tell that under their sarcastic words, they really do love each other as they keep each other alive on the freezing mountain.

Now Mister Pyramid, here comes Mister Cube Watching Odo caring for the baby goo in “The Begotten” is downright adorable, but at the same time deeply sad. Odo reveals that he doesn’t want to see the baby poked and prodded like when Mora Pol was assigned to him, and he truly empathizes with the infant Changeling in a way that is so parental and personal. It makes the ending all the more heart wrenching.

You have my gratitude… and my blessing Speaking of heart-wrenching endings. Despite how much it troubles Odo that the Vorta all view him as some kind of god, Odo opts to try to help Weyoun 6 in “Treachery, Faith, and the Great River” as much as he can. And when Odo bestows the dying Weyoun with his blessing, it comes across as a kindness between people, regardless of whether he believes it or not.

Talk about a Great Link! Though Odo’s relationship with Kira Nerys started out squicky, as you’ll see in a moment, you can’t help rooting for them. And when Odo chooses being with this solid over someone of his own kind in “Chimera,” it feels like a big win. Odo may not be able to link with Nerys, but the equivalent he whips up in the closing scene is visually stunning and emotionally cathartic.

—

Worst moments

Elementary, my dear: I obviously did it! First and foremost, Odo’s first duty is to justice and he just can’t help himself from solving a good mystery. So in “A Man Alone,” he keeps accidentally proving that he committed the murder of Ibudan all along, even though he didn’t. After all, Occam’s razor teaches us that the most obvious answer is probably that Changelings are behind it.

Taking his bucket and going home If I had a nickel for every time Odo quit his chief of security job in a huff… well I’d have two nickels but it’s still weird it happened twice. First in “Move Along Home” when Odo has a little tantrum when Primmin comes onboard and then AGAIN when Eddington comes onboard in “The Search.” Odo, I have no idea how old you actually are, but grow the hell up!

Untie my hands before you start to blame me Let’s just clump all our “Odo is a fascist” moments into this example. In “The Maquis,” Odo makes it clear that he wishes he were given unbridled power in order to keep the station safe, but of course that comes at the expense of civil rights. When he states that Terok Nor was safer under Cardassian occupation, you see just how little he initially cares for the people he’s protecting.

So happy together… except for Jadzia When Odo merges with Curzon during Jadzia’s zhian’tara in “Facets,” what we get is just an asshole who doesn’t want to reabsorb back into the symbiont, leaving Dax feeling incomplete. And while a lot of that is Curzon’s fault, Odo is a part of Curzodo, and he claims that this is how they both want it to be. He entirely fails to consider Jadzia’s personhood. What a selfish jerk.

Solids and liquids just don’t blend It’s never a good look for a guy to get personally offended when a girl doesn’t like him, but Odo shows us a master class in incel behavior in “Crossfire” when Kira’s relationship with Shakaar gets serious. Dude, she’s just not into you. There’s no reason to go ballistic in your quarters and break all our hearts by destroying the plant that Kira had gotten you as a quarters-warming gift.

You don’t even belong here. I do. Try as he might, Odo cannot undo the mistake he made that gets revealed in “Things Past” because this isn’t actually a time travel episode. The Shyamalan twist of this episode is that it was all Odo’s fault that three Bajorans had gotten executed seven years prior because the constable was too lazy to do his damn job and see that they were innocent all along.

This is what increased security looks like? 90% of the time, Odo’s infatuation with security goes above and beyond what should be reasonable. And yet, when a serial killer is murdering off Kira’s friends in “The Darkness and the Light,” he doesn’t notice when a) Furel and Lupaza sneak onto the station, b) they get blown to smithereens, and c) Kira absconds with his list of suspects. You’re losing your touch, Odo!

What’s a nice woman like you doing with a dataport? We gave Geordi stink for getting romantically involved with the woman he was investigating in “Aquiel.” We gave Julian stink for all the patients he grossly seduces. And you’d better believe we’re going to give Odo stink for banging the woman in witness protection he was supposed to be protecting in “A Simple Investigation.” Dude! Gross! That is so not okay!

Tell Kira I want her to know it was me! An alternate timeline Odo gets away with blinking out an entire society of people – the descendants of his friends, no less! – to stop Kira from getting killed. What’s even more screwed up is that our Kira would have preferred dying so this planet of living, breathing people could continue existing in “Children of Time,” but Gaian Odo could only think of how it affects him.

Solids just wouldn’t understand Odo gets tempted by the Female Changeling at the top of season six of the show, and it’s agonizing to watch him totally get suckered in by her dangling the Great Link over him all the time. In “Behind the Lines,” he’s so busy linking with her while his friends in the resistance need him that it foils their plans and gets Rom captured.

Turn her no into a yes! I rag on “His Way” a lot, and for good reason! It rewards toxic masculinity by giving Odo what he always wanted after Vic has tricked him and Kira into a date. It’s not all on Vic though! Odo valiantly refuses to get involved with Lola Crystal, but he is more than okay with wooing one that was supposed to be like the real thing! That’s not romantic, guys. That’s creepy.

Anyone can always steal a shuttlecraft! We already gave O’Brien stink for releasing feral Molly into the wild last week, and we’ll probably do it again when we get to our Keiko spotlight, but when it comes to “Time’s Orphan,” Odo’s hands are dirty too! When one of his security goons catches the O’Briens stealing a shuttle, Odo just lets them go. Where’s your sense of justice this week, constable?

— And that’s all the security footage we have this week from the station. Keep following us here as we shine the spotlight on Odo’s better half next week – the magnificent Ferengi himself: Quark! You can also keep following along with our watchthrough of Enterprise over on SoundCloud or wherever you listen to podcasts, harumph with us over on Facebook and Twitter, and watch out for rats! They might be Changelings!

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soleminisanction · 1 year ago

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I just went through most of your character rants and analysis and I love them so much!❤️ It’s so nice to find someone with a lot of the same opinions as me, especially after seeing a good bit of Tim hate in TikTok comments lately. I love the animatics and cosplays on there but it sucks that it seems like it’s seen as cool to be nasty to Tim’s character over there, or maybe it's just the comments of the videos I get? It’s usually people thinking he’s a misogynist or that his character steals from and or makes other robins look bad to hype him up. I don’t get these comments because I feel like all of the bats have been written with misogynistic dialogue at some point, even the girls! I don’t understand why people latch this on to Tim as some big character trait. Maybe it’s some joke I’m just not understanding. Also with the bringing other characters down to prop his character up, isn’t that what pretty much every character that is currently in the spotlight does at some point (like Steph’s Batgirl run infamously does to Babs and Tim)? Why do they attribute this only to Tim? Also, all the robins steal traits from each in adaptations and other comic runs, again why do they act like it’s a Tim only thing? Basically, all the other Bats do what they claim they hate Tim for?! It’s genuinely mind-boggling to me!

TikTok's algorithm is the worst thing about that app, because it's got a terrible tendency to send peoples' feeds into negativity spirals, and that in turn fosters a community of people who are either looking for rage-bait, are mad because they can't get away from the rage-bait, or try to bait other people to rage because that gets them engagement. There's no way off the merry-go-round once you get on it either, it's just miserable; it's why I eventually had to drop the app and now only watch the videos ported over to YouTube or Tumblr.

For my money, the reason Tim specifically gets blamed for this thing that is very obviously a problem with comics as an industry, not with his character specifically, comes at least in part from the drama involving Steph.

Because see, defenses of Steph tend to start from a seed of truth -- she was the subject of sexist writing in War Games, both in the fact that they chose to fridge her for Bruce's manpain and that artists during cuts away to the infamous torture sequence (which did not need to be as long as it was) drew her in a highly sexualized manner. But some people took that truth and ran with it, leaping onto this frustrating, stupid second-wave feminist idea that women are inherently innocent and can only ever be victims of The Patriarchy and therefor if anything goes wrong in the life of a woman, it MUST be the fault of A Man. And since it can be hard to pin-point which comic creators are responsible for these things, the brunt started to fall on the in-universe men.

So all the men around Steph became scapegoats, and Tim is the man she's both around the most and whom she has wronged the most. And then that attitude got amplified by her Batgirl run, which does this really manipulative bullshit where it only brings up Steph's past in terms that make her look like a helpless victim with no agency, without acknowledging or even mentioning any of the things she chose to do of her own free will. It especially went out of its way to demonize Tim and paint him as unreasonable, judgey and sexist, because the alternative would mean acknowledging that Steph had done some really fucked-up shit to him in the last days of Robin, and it was in fact perfectly reasonable for him to want her out of his life.

But see, that would mean that a good guy (gasp) didn't like her. And had a good reason not to like her. And trying to write a character who rises to become a true hero because they're fighting to make up for the shitty things they did in the past is so much harder than writing a innocent widdle victim who only has the best intentions and whose only problem is that the world is unfair to her specficially. White women with no self-awareness can project themselves on the latter, but not the former.

Amplify that by the faction of Damian stans who treat fictional rivalries as Deadly Serious Business and the fraction of Jason stans who hate him for existing as the result of Jason's death, both of whom will jump on and amplify any criticism no matter how baseless and uninformed just to score points against their perceived "enemy," and there you go. That's what I've observed unfolding since about 2007 anyway.

#fandom ramblings #dc comics asks

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blowflyfag · 1 year ago

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Pro Wrestling Illustrated: May 1995

DERAILING DIESEL

Will “Big Daddy Cool” Defrost At WrestleMania?

By Andy Rodriguez

[The biggest day of Diesel’s life is ahead of him. The WWF World title is in his grasp now, but he still has so much to prove at WrestleMania]

You wake up on Sunday morning from a fitful night of sleep and realize that today is different from all the other days. You were tossing and turning from the moment your head hit the pillow last night and the cars driving past outside seemed as loud as those at the Indianapolis Speedway. The maid knocked on your door and you almost tore her head off while screaming, “Leave me alone!”

Now there’s a lump in your throat that just won't go away. You walk down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast and find that nothing on the menu looks particularly appetizing. Funny, you’ve been here before and always found a way to entertain the waitresses with your ravenous appetite and wonderful sense of humor.

So you go out for a walk. Doesn't the air feel funny? And why is everybody looking at you that way? There’s just no privacy, so you go back to your hotel room and watch TV. But there’s really nothing on worth watching and you end up staring blankly at MTW for the next four hours.

The time is dragging. The second hand on the clock seems to take forever to complete one sweep of the dial.

Finally, it’s 2 o’clock. Time to head over to the arena. Now you’re really sweating. The lump in your throat just got bigger. The arena is in sight and your heart starts to beat faster. You walk inside and realize that something is different. Something looks and feels different. The lights are brighter. There are more cameramen than usual in the building. At least 100 reporters are crowded into the dressing room trying to get prematch interviews. Why are they here?

Because it’s WrestleMania Sunday, a day like no other on the wrestling calendar.

And you’re not sure how to deal with it.

Because this is your first WrestleMania.

And you just happen to be in the main event. You’re the champion of the world. You are Diesel.

“He has no idea what he’s in for,” said S.D. Jones, who was pinned by King Kong Bundy in nine seconds at the inaugural WrestleMania. “WrestleMania isn’t like any other wrestling match. It’s like saying the Super Bowl is just another football game, or Game 7 of the World Series is just another baseball game. The pressure is enormous, but the scary part is that it doesn’t hit you until about a day before, so it’s not like you have time to deal with the situation.”

[Some say Diesel has a chance to be one of the great WWF World champs of all-time, others say he was lucky to win it. A dominant performance at WrestleMania XI would silence his critics.]

One wouldn’t think a person with the nickname “Big Daddy Cool” would have any trouble dealing with the pressure. Well, think again. Top stars from Hulk Hogan to Randy Savage to The Ultimate Warrior all say that there’s nothing quite like the pressure of WrestleMania. It’s the time when true champions, the ones who can deal with pressure and the spotlight, rise to the top. WrestleMania separates the pretenders from the real deal.

For Diesel, WrestleMania XI at the Hartford Civic Center figures to be the most frightening, intimidating, and emotionally unsettling day of his life. It will be graduation day for a young champion who won’t earn his final credits until his match is over on Sunday night.

[Bret and Owen Hart have both tried, as have countless others. But after many “jackknife” powerbombs and many big boots to the face, Diesel always seems to come out on top. But he hasn’t faced the ultimate test yet. Can he survive his first WrestleMania?]

His opponent is the best he ever faced. Diesel had no trouble beating Bob Backlund for the World title because there was very little pressure on him. Subsequent title defenses, including one against Bret Hart, were a test of Diesel’s mettle, but they didn’t tell us all we needed to know about him.

[Bret Hart could tell Diesel how much of a media circus WrestleMania can be. “Big Daddy Cool” has no idea what it’s like to compete at the WWF’s top pay-per-view event … and he’ll be in this year’s main event]

Remember: WrestleMania is different. In almost all cases, the World champion is facing the top contender to the belt. It’s probably the toughest opponent he has faced all year and possibly in his entire life. The opponent is charged up for the big day and has trained for months while focused on one match. Meanwhile, the champion has been busy dealing with other challenges to the title.

The pressure of WrestleMania will be compounded by Diesel’s age. He’s young and relatively inexperienced in pay-per-view events. Last year at this time, he was little more than Shawn Michaels’ bodyguard, but then he won the Intercontinental, World tag team, and World heavyweight titles. All of this has happened in a blur (seven months actually) for Diesel, who really hasn’t had time to reflect upon his accomplishments or put them in proper perspective. Forgive him he suffers from an intense fear of the unknown.

And there is nothing that anybody can tell him that would help.

“You can talk about all of the cameras and lights and people, but you don’t know what it’s like until you’re there,” said Roddy Piper. “It’s awesome for a fan or writer, but it is at least tenfold for a wrestler. By the time the main event rolls around, the entire arena is in a frenzy.”

Over the past year, WCW has made great strides in its war with the WWF. The signings of Hulk Hogan, Brutus Beefcake, Hacksaw Duggan, Randy Savage, The Honky Tonk Man, and Avalanche gave the federation the superior talent roster. Many of the recent WCW pay-per-views have been more exciting than those in the WWF.

But in the minds of the general public, WrestleMania is still the premier wrestling pay-per-view event in the world. It’s the big show.

For “Big Daddy Cool,” it could be the night things get too hot to handle.

[Diesel better hope he can overcome his nervousness with his awesome physical ability. Bob Backlund has been no match for him in matches around the country (above and left).

Should he lose the title at WrestleMania, Diesel will probably be dismissed as another forgettable WWF world Champion. Only a year ago, he was considered more of a bodyguard than a wrestler.]

#big daddy cool diesel #kevin nash #wwf #world wrestling federation #magazine transcript #magazine scan #pro wrestling illustrated #PWI #PWI 1990s #1990s #1995

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cataschism · 1 month ago

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My main verse for Deku on this blog, below. This elaborates on his divergent behavior and timeline, including where I’ve moved him up in this timeline.

Deku’s canon divergency starts while he’s still at UA and there’s no war. Instead, AFO doesn’t get out and no grand plan gets unleashed. The League still exists and they continue to be a hassle, but it’s nothing major. Deku also loses a bit of his identity and it becomes blurred for him, making him use Deku both personally and professionally. Maybe using your childhood nickname as your Pro Hero name was a bad idea.

Deku’s canon divergence continues as he gets older. Graduating high school, Deku is in the top three. By his twenty-second birthday, he’s number one. Deku quickly realizes the pro hero life wasn’t all that he thought it was; most importantly, he’s upset with how the procedures are done and the strict PR rules he has to follow under the HPSC’s ( hero public safety commission ) guidelines. By twenty-four, he goes rogue.

Deku completely abandons his post as the number one hero, leaving it to Bakugou. Instead, Deku goes underground and begins temporarily forming allyships with functional vigilantes and villains, trying to root out the corruption of society. For the most part, he is completely MIA from the hero scene as well as no - contact with his loved ones. There are barely any signs that Deku is even alive. Some rumors and sightings here and there that Deku exists as a green ghost, only wisps in people’s peripherals.

For two years, he makes some progress. He is able to uproot some aspects of HPSC, at least enough of the genuinely and blatantly corrupt executives to make them resign and make the other executives frightened. He is not successful in curing all corruption in Japan, and can no longer deny that his presence is still necessary as Japan’s number one hero and the gap that One for All left behind is too large to ignore.

He reluctantly returns to the spotlight, but won’t open up about what he’s been doing. People sort of know: he was doing some amount of vigilantism. It’s clear he went no - contact with his friends and colleagues, and that they were in as much dark as the general public. Deku offers nothing to the public: all that it was an aspiring hero’s work.

Deku has to get his hero license renewed after that and make sure his Quirks are recorded as is procedure. The HPSC doesn’t want to work with him anymore, and he them; they don’t give him tasks unless someone requests him specifically for a team-up and he sticks to his own agency and his friends’ agencies for work. He also easily reassumes his place as number one, usurping Bakugou once again.

It isn’t until Deku is defeated by the next generation of heroes does he go back underground, now fully committed ( and no longer number one ) to rooting out corruption.

Personality-wise, Deku is much more dulled out as an adult. He’s still the same analyst Quirk-nerd underneath, but he gets quiet from the amount of trauma he’s endured. He swaps between his more Bakugou-aligned attitude and his own nice attitude more often, becoming more irritable post-vigilantism. This only happens post-24yro , likely around 26. Deku is roughly the same as he is to canon - save some of the excitement - up until he’s 20 when he hits number one. Then he starts calming down.

Habits & quirks, Deku feels an insane amount of discomfort when referred to as Izuku. Anyone who knows him know that he likes to be exclusively referred to as Deku. Deku also gets OCD compulsions and intrusive thoughts, worsening the older he gets.

Summary, Deku is the same ages 14-17 to canon, 18 he gets some inklings of wanting to be a different kind of hero (underground, vigilante, etc), 19-20 he tops the charts, 24 he goes MIA as a vigilante, 26 he returns. And at some point in the future, he becomes underground after his number one spot becomes usurped by the next gen.

#deku tag dump #✦ deku◞ main. ╱ be whole as you are; for you deserve no one less than you to fill holes.#✦ deku◞ canon v. ╱ call batman‚ i’m plagiarizing boy wonder.#✦ deku◞ kny v. ╱ i don’t know what i see; i know what i feel.#you can tell hes still my baby ofc #✦ headcanons. ╱ i’m running to outpace the dawn.

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gliyerabaa · 1 year ago

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Obviously we all know Frex sucks, but I actually don’t think any of the trio have particularly healthy relationships with their parents?

Elphaba has most likely been encouraged to be invisible her entire life. Basically every line Frexspar says to her is him telling her to shut up and stay out of the way (‘Try not to talk so much’, ‘Stop making a spectacle of yourself’)— even him wanting her taken away as a baby. I get the impression Elphaba spent any time she wasn’t actively doing something for him or Nessarose shut up in her room; he wants her on call for when they need her (and wants to keep her from embarrassing him in public) so she’s kept at home, but she’s strongly encouraged to remain out of sight.

Sharing a room for Elphaba is actually a huge adjustment because for years her room has been the space where she spent all her free time. She’s used to being disliked but she’s always had somewhere she could hide from it, except now there’s Glinda and that loathing is in her refuge and she has nowhere else to go.

Glinda puts on a very good show of being close with her parents (‘dearest darlingest’ and all that), but looking back on it they really don’t know a thing about her. They’re impressive high society people living their impressive high society lives, and part of that is having the perfect little socialite daughter to impress all their friends with her achievements. Her relationship with them is a performance, because it’s always been their staff actually raising her. As staff members moved on or were let go or changed positions throughout her childhood she got very used to people she loved moving on and leaving her behind.

Shiz is the first time in her life Glinda feels like she has something like a stable family. There’s no society politics with Elphaba, and she’s the first person Glinda has ever been able to love (in a non-performative way) who isn’t in danger of suddenly having to go away. Then there’s Fiyero and he’s kind and fun and as much as she’s playing her part by falling for the perfect guy, it slowly starts to feel less false over time when she realises she genuinely cares about him and the quiet moments they have alone, as much as the show they can put on at the Ozdust.

It shatters her when all at once Elphaba leaves her like people always have, and her and Fiyero are forced into the spotlight and their whole relationship is suddenly just fodder for the press.

Fiyero comes from a big family, and they care about him as much as they can, but he’s not the crown Prince, and he’s not quite the baby of the family. Anything new he tries it seems like one of his older siblings has already done better, and being compared to them constantly really chips away at him, until he decides it’s safer not to try. He gives up on trying to make them proud, and just starts trying to play the role people expect of him, because at least if he’s a scandal his family are paying attention to him, right?

He opens up at Shiz, and he plays his part with Glinda, but it’s Elphaba that gets to him. They rescue the lion cub, and she knows that they’ll never get any recognition for it. No one will ever know, or be proud of her for doing that, but she did it because it was right and because she cares and because that’s who she is. After that he starts trying at things again, because even if it’ll never mean anything to anyone else, he desperately wants to know what it’s like to be himself again.

omg i completely forgot about this ask I'm so sorry!!

........ tbh I don't even have any response or commentary or anything-- this is such a good characterization and I absolutely love these ideas. Glinda and Fiyero's family lives don't get explored nearly enough, and I'm happy to hear analysis of the ideas :)

thank you for this, and apologies for taking so long to share it

#ask #answered #anon #good analysis

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cannedbabs · 20 days ago

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Here’s the whole post explaining this thought process. Was gonna wait awhile to write it out but the brainrot for this guy is real. He’s seeped into my life into deep crevices not a lot of other fixations have and I’m simply his meat puppet typing to spread his name so he truly never dies.

Anywho, big explanation post under the cut :]

The fandom seems to place a bunch of emphasis “oh look at me I won the first place trophy and these other two lost as always 👍”

This is definitely an important part of his character. He obviously gloats according to the flashback scene in WIR, shoving the trophy and his hand in the twins’s faces and making them noticeably recoil. Though I was ruminating on the idea of: what if he didn’t place first?

In the very beginning of the movie (the 30 years ago bit) when we see Turbo Time if you manage to pause you can see all types of kids playing his game. One of which is a kid who can barely see over the poor wheel. What if someone played it didn’t know how to play at first or some other reason? What if turbo placed second, or worst third? Honestly I don’t think he’d care. It’s 100% happened before. It’s a bruise on his ego, but he won’t die without placing first (and most definitely wasn’t the reason for going Turbo)

In terms of King Candy there is one race he is concerned with “winning” however, and that is the Random Roster Race. This isn’t for any points or gloat (at least outwardly) and it’s simply to be an option that the players can choose from. Who wouldn’t want to win it?

We can probably assume due to Turbo’s nature he has never not once been included in this roster (he probably justifies his position as king to be partly reason if anyone dares question him). Not to mention he is ALWAYS smack Dab in the middle, both in ‘real life’ when the roster is seen resetting before people put their coins in to qualify (not to mention his picture is the last to disappear… attention hog) and in his “What If” flashback when he’s talking to Ralph about Vanellope not being able to race.

This comes with its set of own other obstacles. Unlike Turbo Time, you can play as any character you chose out of the 9. Sure, King Candy looks most odd out of all of the younger, more specifically themed candy racers, and that may come with some curiosity but… if your ALWAYS included in the roster people won’t want to play you (unless you got some die hard KC racer fans who likes how he plays LOL). If you’re a staple people are gonna wanna try to pick racers they’ve probably never seen before to get the chance to race as a cool new character that hasn’t been added to the roster in a while.

Sooo let’s say Turbo, this man who is used to being played by the racers in every instance has to grasp at straws to get even an ≈11% chance at getting picked. Fine. He’s settled with that for what? 15 years? No biggie.

I’ve compiled a dumb list of what I believe his priorities are in regards to sugar rush going from ‘most desired outcome’ to ‘meh it’s okay’ to downright ‘won’t let it happen.’

1. King Candy is added to the roster. King Candy is picked by the players. King Candy wins the race.

2. King Candy is added to the roster. King Candy is picked by the players. King Candy DOESNT win the race (ofc each place after first would be sub categories of this entry)

3. King Candy is added to the roster. King Candy is NOT picked by the players. King Candy wins the race

4. King Candy is added to the roster. King Candy is NOT picked by the players. King Candy DOESNT win the race

5. King Candy is NOT added to the roster.

Turbo can handle loss. He can’t handle the spotlight not being on him, even inadvertently, and he can’t deal with not being *involved*. He went Turbo when he felt like he was being abandoned, even in that brief moment those kids turned heel (I don’t know who made it but someone made a theory that I agree with wholeheartedly that he was abandoned in the middle of a race and thats AUGH) to look at Road Blasters he needed to get involved.

And what did involved look like? Getting them to talk about him. Appearing as part of the game, part of the track, part of the race. We can’t say for certain if he was trying to replace the main car with his (Felix does say he tried to “…take over the new [game]” though I view Turbo as a deeply complex character and Felix as a slightly unreliable narrator for this flashback, so I don’t think it was exactly what Felix THOUGHT it was but yeah. Very similar, at least), but we can say It was to get the attention back on himself at least. Controlled or not, main racer (at first) or not.

((Small footnote that idk where to put it also: KC needing to be on the roster may be some compensation for Sugar Rush not being a cabinet with his likeness on it unlike TT… contrasting Vanellope in some aspects, or something something idk filler thoughts here))

Do I think Turbo values winning? Yes. It’s engrained in his character as a protagonist of his own cabinet. Do I think he’s a sore loser? Oh most definitely. Though I wish more people focused on his need to be talked about, looked at, etc. more. Funniest thing is King Candy (and Turbo) are never truly ever seen alone in any instance, only brief bits (When Turbo is game jumping in the cords… or when KC goes solo to confront Ralph about Vanellope not being able to race: “I come alone!”). Even when silently panicking he has sour bill by his side to fan him (if he was worried about Bill finding out his identity or even getting remotely suspicious he could shoo him away, it’s obvious, but he’s trusting of him enough to even let him ‘help’ with accessing the code room).

Idk!! Lots of things that rattle in my brain. I’m always up for discussions on Turbo. I have conversations with my friends on the daily about stuff like this. Would enjoy hearing other thoughts too :]

Would anyone agree with me in the WIR/Turbo fandom that Turbo doesn’t care about winning as much as people perceive him to or should I see myself out 🫢 /j

(I’ve been doing NUMEROUS character studies on this guy for awhile. Always willing to discuss anything. But this is my main thing I think is commonly misconstrued about his character… and it ofc bleeds over into King Candy as well)

#wreck it ralph turbo #turbo #turbotastic #turbo wreck it ralph #turbo wir #turbotime #turbo twins #?#king candy wir #wir king candy #king candy #wreck it ralph #wir #turbo time

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shymaidxn · 2 years ago

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@rngleader - “No. 'Impossible’ isn’t in my dictionary.” TWISTED WONDERLAND (ENG TRANSLATION) RP STARTERS

It's a voice that gives her a momentary pause, before she goes back to what she was doing, as if this electronic sound had no hold on her soul. Organizing the sprawling bookshelves for what felt like forever, moving around various knickknacks that livened up the place, then caring for the little plants surrounding the coffee house's stage. All to get away from this new little part of her reality hidden in her computer screen. Even while she was living right inside it; in a little nook she could call home, yet where any spotlight terrified her.

Yet, despite that, she responded. "You're not talking about me, are you?" She'd ask as he explained his presence - and the entirety of "Sekai" - to her. "There's no way there's a place like that." She'd simply state back to his affirmations of this place filled with warmth and song, even though they were there at that very moment. "I can't have anything like that anymore. I've moved on from that life." When asked about her love for singing, her devotion to that past craft, or that yearning for a childish desire - she shut it all down. She'd feel heat rise to her cheeks and a pressure behind her eyes, the more the vocaloid went on. Everything was behind her now. Everything was over for her now...She was trying to start fresh...It was impossible to even fathom any of this -

“No. 'Impossible’ isn’t in my dictionary.”

The confidence in his voice makes her crush a tiny dead leaf she had just pruned in her hand. "Well what if it's in mine, Kaito?" Her voice shakes, but she isn't quite angry. No, it's more that...She doesn't want to have another fantasy world fill the gap that was left in her heart. She had finally gotten away from being thrust into the spotlight she hated most, and even with the lingering regrets, she just wanted to be left alone...But it gnawed away at her. Her fist around the crushed leaf tightens, as her arms go to hug her around her chest. "...I'm sorry. This place is just...It feels nice. It just doesn't feel like any of this should be mine. At least, not in the way I think you want it to be." She stated in a much more hushed voice, finally looking at him for the first time since they had gotten to this place.

#v: sekai #rngleader #( thank you for the ask hun!! sorry for taking forever to respond to it~ )#( if you want something else just let me know!! )

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maloskiworld · 3 years ago

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He’s my favorite track - Pierre Gasly (x Verstappen reader/driver)

MASTERLIST (requests are open!)

Summary : stepping in the footsteps of your big brother, you were a reserver driver for RedBull. Wen they asked you to replace Yuki at Alpha Tauri, things took a pleasant turn with your teammate.

Click here to read part 2 “ My love ”

Warnings : some languages (not so much), light mention of sickness, a very sweet Pierre, big brother Max

Words count : +3.5K

A/N : Hi everyone ! This is my first F1 one shot. I’m so happy to post it ! I hope you enjoy it. Feedbacks are more than welcome. 🌻

PS : English isn’t my first language, so sorry if there’s any mistakes ! 💙

not my gif, credits to the owner !

🌻🌻🌻

You'd never thought this day would come. Even in your wildest dreams. Because you dreamt of it. Many many times. But to you, it was just one of those fantasies. Just like when you were imagining yourself being married to the one and only Harry Styles. Your phone was still in your hand, but your mind was gone somewhere else. Shivers running down your spine. The loud ringing of your ringtone took you out of your daydreaming. It was your brother. Well, if you intended on keeping it secret, it was probably already screwed.

" I can't believe it ! ", you heard him scream through the device.

" Well, hello to you, Max. I guess you already know ? ", you happily sighed.

" You made it ! I'm so so proud of you. " His words brought a smile to your lips. He was proud. All your life, that was the feeling you were searching to get. The only gratitude you needed.

" I'll make you even prouder if I step on the podium, though. " You were already imagining yourself on the spotlight. Winning your first F1 race.

" Oh, easy there. It's only Alpha Tauri ! " he replied, laughing a little. God, his sister was a dreamer.

" Pierre did it ", his name in your mouth made your stomach flipped.

The conversation didn't last long after that. The siblings agreed to go on a run before they had to leave for Monza. Yuki was very sick, and had to be replaced for at least one race. You were one of the reserver drivers for RedBull. For some reasons, they decided to let you race for Alpha Tauri. Some say - well mostly Max - that it was because you were talented and they wanted to see you on track.

One name didn't leave your mind after the small talk. Pierre. You met him a few years ago. You attended a race with your brother, following him everywhere like a lost puppy. You stumbled across the blondie boy after a great qualification from him. You were impressed. You didn't know how he didn't give up. This season was so hard on him, yet he was still trying to show everyone wrong. And he was doing it in the best way possible. You looked at him from afar, admiring him.

The next season, you became a reserve driver for RedBull and attended every race, but Monza hold something different. Pierre managed to get the sixth place with his Alpha Tauri during qualifying. You were so happy for him - and you didn't really know why. Maybe it was because you thought he was one of the bravest man on the grid. Or maybe it was the way he was looking in his white suit. The day after, he won his first f1 race. Monza, how you were magical. But Max had to retire the car. He was so pissed of about it that he took you partying all night long just to get his mind off things. That's when you saw Pierre again. When your eyes found his, you felt like melting right there. Damn, this guy was beautiful. You two never stopped looking at each other all night. You didn't dare to go speak to him, too afraid to stutter and not be able to form a correct sentence. And he didn't dare to come close to you, because you were Max Verstappen little sis.

Your brother wasn't one to refrain you from dating who the hell you wanted. But to say he was scaring - without even realising it - every gut that every tried to date you was underestimate. Pierre was sure that the RedBull driver would kill him if he made a move on his sister. So he never did, but always regretted it.

That night, you fell in love with Pierre Gasly. His deep blue eyes were to die for. His french accent was the cutest sound your ears had ever heard, and you'll never be tired of it. One year later, he was still the guy that made your heartbeat faster. You never said a word to anyone, but always hoped that one day you'll be his.

Since that day, you saw him a little more. Chatting for a bit in the paddock. He always had a nice word to you. Complimenting your clothes, laughing at your jokes or congratulating you for your performances on the sim - because he heard you were doing great. He made your heat fluttered every time, and you tried your best not to show it. Hiding your red cheeks behind your hands. It wasn't much, but those 5 min interactions were the highlights of your day.

You weren't nervous, you were scared as hell. Your hands were trembling as one of the team's members passed you your gloves. You tried to hide it. Smiled to everyone, and joked around. But one person noticed it.

" Hey ", you jumped, not expecting anyone to talk to you with your headphones on. You were met with ocean eyes, and your stomach did a flip.

" Hi ", you smiled lightly.

" Nervous, uh ? " he looked straight at you. You felt so little under his gaze. It's like he knew exactly what was going on in that brain of yours.

" I'm fine ", you tried to lie. You didn't want him to think you were a coward. A lot of people thought so. You were a girl, and girls don't belong in Formula 1, right ? Bullshit. You worked your ass for this place, and you earned it. You were ready to prove it. Nevertheless, you were still scared. What if you weren't good enough ? What if you crashed ? Your mind was working a hundred miles an hour. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice that the french driver was still standing in front of you.

" I was so scared ", he admitted. You lifted your head up, frowning. " My first F1 race. I was terrified. I had so much expectation. Winning a race for my first ? That was my goal. I was so gutted when I didn't achieve that. I mean, I didn't even get in the points ! " he laughed a little. " I wished someone told me it was okay. Don't rush things, it's your first race. And don't overthink too much. Just go out there and do your best. I'm sure you'll do amazing, anyway. "

You were about to answer when someone called your name.

" Y/N ! " You turned around, to face Max. " Is my little sis nervous ? ", his smirked your way.

" I'm not. " Seeing your brother made you find a little more confidence hiding somewhere inside you. You've always admired Max, wanting to step in his footprints.

" Good luck today, little one. I'll see you right after the practice ends, alright ? " He embraced you in a tight hug. You wished he never let go of you. Your brother always knew what you needed, because he stayed like that a little longer than usual.

" C'mon, show everyone what the Verstappen are made of ! ", he laughed and then went back to the RedBull garage. You looked back to where Pierre was, just to find him talking to Pyry. He looked so good in his white suit. You gulped and made your way to the car.

You can do this, Y/N, you thought to yourself.

Practice went well for you. Monza was an amazing track. Well, it was your favorite track. It always had been. You felt so confident driving up there. The car felt good to. Everything looked good for you. You were so excited for qualification. Hoping you'd make it to Q2, if not Q3. You were smiling ear to ear when you entered the Alpha Tauri garage on that saturday afternoon. Greeting everyone that crossed your path.You were about to go talk to your phisio, before someone interrupted you.

" Someone looks happy, today. " He stood next to your car. His bright smile plastered on his face. He had a look on face that you didn't fully recognized.

" Hi, Pierre. How are you ? ", you answered cheepisly, playing with your drink. " Better now that I see you smile ", he replied honestly. You blushed, hoping he wouldn't notice. You didn't even know if you'd be capable to look his way after that.

" Ready for quali ? ", he kept talking with his sweet voice.

" More than ready. Maybe I'll beat you ", you said, not thinking of what you really said. When you realized, your eyes widened. Pierre let a true laugh out. Throwing his head back, letting his neck totally on display. You stared a bit, imagining how you could brush your lips against it. He must of know because he slowly touched the side of it. Butterflies erupted in your body. You looked straight into his eyes, panicking a bit.

" I'm - I... " you stumbled on your words. Shit, shit, you hated yourself on that moment.

" It's cool. Hope you enjoy the view ", he said so casually. " Hey, let's do a bet. If you beat me, I'll take you on a date. ", his voice was so hopeful. You stood there, not knowing what to say. You wanted to scream yes but your brain wasn't really taking on what was going. It was frozen. Was Pierre Gasly flirting with you ? You must be dreaming. That can't be true. Your mouth started to open up, but someone dragged you out of the conversation and put you in a dark corner of the garage.

" Max, it could have waited. I was in the middle of a conversation ! ", you groaned. He just ruined your moment with Pierre. " What do you want now ? ", your voice was so harsh. You were faced with silence. Max was looking at you with big eyes. You never got mad at him - at anyone in general unless it was super important (like your life depended on it).

" I just... Just wanted to say good luck... " He was taken aback by your attitude. Realization soon crossed his face. " Something's going on with you and Pierre ?", you could hear the slight shock in his voice.

" No- no. It's - it's not like that ", you finally muttered.

" You like him ? ", he screamed, not in an angry way. More like in a happy way.

" Shut up ! ", you put one of your finger on his mouth. He started to smile. You took a step back. " You're not mad ? ", you ask, kind of dumfounded by his reaction. Literally admitting you had feelings for your teammate of a week.

" No, no. You do you. I'm happy for you no matter what, no matter who you're with. Hope he's gonna get his seat at RedBull back, so that my sister's not gonna support another team ", he winked at you. " Oh and if he breaks your heart, i'll ruin him. See you after quali ! " and with that he run away from you.

" We're not even together yet...", you breathed out.

You made your way back to the garage. Your hands were sweating. You wanted to go back so bad to the small talk you were having with Pierre. But he was nowhere to find. You frowned, hoping you'd see him before qualifying started. But you didn't, hopped in your car, helmet on. Q3, here I am.

Gutted. That's what you were. In the middle of Q1, you had to retire the car. Mechanic problem. You were so mad at everything and everyone. You wanted to punch and insult the whole world. You were doing so great, definitively would have made it far. You kept your helmet on as you crossed the garage. Every mechanic was silent, scared to say a word to you. You were fuming, seeing red. You didn't care about the rest of the qualifying and went to your motorhome. Slamming the door so loud to let everyone know that you were mad. Talk about Verstappen's genes. You slid along the wall. Head in your hands, crying your anger away. You were frustrated at yourself, and a little bit at the team. How could they not see the issue before ?

You didn't know how long you stayed in this position, and it's not like you really cared. A little knock on the door got to your ears. You groaned, not wanting to see anyone.

" Go away, Max " you answered, you were so sure it was your brother. You refused to let him see you in this state. Another soft knock.

" Leave me alone ", you tried to scream but your voice came muffled, a sob left your mouth. The door opened gently. You erased the tears from your cheeks with the sleeves of your racing suit. A hand landed on your shoulder. You relaxed into the touch. Your anger already got the best of you, you were tired of fighting with your emotions. You were put in a loving embrace. You immediately recognized the scent of the stranger. Wooded but sweet as honey. You sobbed more.

" Hey, it's alright ", Pierre said, running his hand through your hair. The other one was placed on your back, rubbing it with little rounds. " It's not your fault. "

You wanted him to shut up as much as you wanted to hear him said you'd be okay. You remembered his words from yesterday " don't rush things, it's your first race ". It wasn't even the race, just quali. Maybe the mechanics would be able to fix the car and you'd take the start tomorrow. And if not, it was okay. It happens. You'd have an another chance. You realized you literally overreacted. You rested your head in the crock of his neck, sniffing a little. You leaned into his touch, letting yourself completely enjoy the moment.

" You were amazing on track. Heard they'll fix your car for tomorrow. I'm sure you'll prove everyone wrong. " His words touched you so much. You really had the impression he knew exactly how you were feeling. Always choosing the right thing to say, even if you never really spoke about those kind of things with him. He knows because he's been there, you thought.

You let go of him - even if you wanted to stay in his strong arms for the rest of your life. Your red eyes looking behind him, a soft smile painted on your face.

" I overreacted. I'm so dumb. " You laughed, fixing your bun. Your hands were shaky, so you hid them in the pockets of your race suit. You got up, Pierre imitating you.

" Don't say that. I know the feeling, a little bit too much by the way - he laughed in a satiric way. I usually hit the gym when it happens to me. It helps me relieve the anger. " He paused a little bit, searching for what to say next. There's so much he wanted to say, to do, but he was scared of your reaction. You left without saying anything after he had mentioned a date. " Hum-..."

" Y/N ! Oh. Oh. Hey, Pierre ", your brother stood by the door, a smirk on his face. " Well, I wanted to comfort my little sis, but someone did it for me I see. Thanks man. She's the worst when she's mad. She's not a mini me for nothing. " You threw a mean look to your brother. Pierre laughed a little, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding. " I'm gonna leave you two love birds alone..."

" Y/N ! We need to talk to you ", you heard someone call for you in the distance. You sighed, time to get back to work.

" Thanks Pierre ", you said squeezing his arm a little to say goodbye. You quickly hugged Max, and joined the team to debrief the afternoon.

You got back to the hotel really late, hungry and tired. Your stomach was growling, and your eyes were trying to shut. To say the less, you were a mess. The terrible qualification was out of mind (you'd be able to take the start tomorrow, it was all that mattered), but something else was stuck in your thoughts. Pierre, of course. You couldn't shake him out of your spirit. He owned every part of you, especially after today. You touched your shoulder where his hands have been, trying to find the comfort of his touch again. Oh boy, you were so in love with him.

" Getting back late ", Pierre was standing by the elevator. Of course, it had to be him. He looked like he just did a workout session. His body was covered in sweat. He was rubbing a towel against his forehead. That man will be the end of you, and you knew it.

" Same for you ", you didn't know what to say. You were a bit awkward, and playing with your hands was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

" Pretty long day ", you chuckled at his words. He couldn't be more right. This weekend was taking a toll on you. So much pressure. So much emotion. You looked at him - well, stared at him. You wished he'd hold you all night. You wanted to feel his raspy hands against you again, and smell his scent to fall asleep. You were captivated by him. The little noise of the elevator made you look away. The tension in the tiny space could be cut with blades. Pierre wanted to hug you, kiss you til the birds sing in the morning. But the race was tomorrow. It was Monza, and he didn't want to mess up. Last year, he won there. He wanted to do it again. Monza, his beloved. He'll wait after the race to talk to you. Hoping you'd say yes to him. He'd follow you around the world if you'd let him.

You both got out, and without saying a word he accompanied you to your door. You were so tensed and exhausted. You opened you room and turned around.

" Have a good night, Pierre. Thanks again for today, you really helped me out there ", you tried to smile brightly but failed and yawned instead. He reciprocated your touch from earlier by squeezing your arm a little. It warmed your heart a little.

" Go get some rest, you deserved it. Don't worry, everything's gonna be fine, love. " With those words, he left you standing in the door of your hotel room. The nickname made you flustered. Butterflies came back in your stomach. You'd wish he'd call you that every freakin' day. It rolled out of his tongue so easily. You went to bed, and fell asleep with a smile on your face and Pierre in your dreams.

Before the race, you stayed in the RedBull garage with Max. It was relaxing to be with your big brother. You knew he'd protected you from everything. The media had gone crazy after your retirement in the qualifications. It was a mechanic problem, but they saw the opportunity to drag you down. Saying you weren't good enough and all those things. It was getting to your head again, but Max knew how to calm you down. You only went back to Alpha Tauri just in time to get ready for the race. You were so focused that you didn't saw the longing looks Pierre was throwing your way. He couldn't wait to be done with the race to put his heart out for you. He was ready for you to pick it up or for you to broke and stepped on it.

The race went amazing for you, you ended up in fifth place. You were more than happy. It felt so incredible. With an Alpha Tauri and for your first race, it was almost a miracle. As soon as you got back to the garage, you took off your helmet and hugged every mechanic you stumbled on. You couldn't stop smiling. Happier than ever. You were on a little cloud of euphoria.

Soon enough, your path crossed Pierre. His eyes held a mix of sadness and pure joy. He had to retire the car. No Monza win for him this year. You didn't think much and threw yourself around his neck. He held you so tight. His head was hiding in the crock of your neck. His hot breath against your skin making you shiver. You felt how much he needed this. How much he needed you. You let your hands drew random patterns on his hair. It felt so right.

" I'm so sorry ", you whispered in his ear. In response, he hugged you even more. You were scared you'd start suffocating, but you stayed still.

" Don't be. I'm so proud of you. You're damn talented. You deserved it so much. So much, love ", his words sent a shiver down your spine. There, that nickname again. It could make you go crazy. You loved it so much, it made you feel so...loved.

" Molto bene Y/N ! ", you heard behind you. You let go of Pierre and turn around to see some mechanics clapping and whistling. You laughed and thanked them. They did an amazing job too. You quickly went to high-five some of them, and returned to the french driver waiting for you.

" Well...", Pierre tried to create a full sentence but he was so nervous words didn't come out as he wanted. " I - so... Yesterday, I-...". He didn't how he was going to get out of this. He probably looked like a fool. The fact that you were glancing at him through your lashes didn't help him. Your face was red, still covered in sweat. Hair was crazy. And how your white race suit fitted your body was almost too much for him. You looked so beautiful.

" Technically, I beat you ", you simply stated with a huge smile on your face. The adrenaline from the race still running through your veins. You were ready to risk it all for him. He smiled back, and you could swear it lightened up the whole room.

" Is that a yes ? ", his eyes were hopeful.

" Yes. "

Monza was no longer your favorite track, Pierre Gasly was.

-------------------------------------------------------------

🌻 Thanks for reading 🌻

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yourtamaki · 4 years ago

Text

the broken melody of us

matsukawa x f!reader

word count: 4k

request: mattsun hurt/comfort + neglect?

warnings: hurt/comfort, neglect, body worship, praise kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming

it was a song and dance at this point. a well rehearsed play with a blinding spotlight on the exhausted actors onstage. both of you go through the motions, no life behind the words you’ve spoken so many times they held no meaning anymore. you don’t know why you keep up the charade. you never expect a different result yet still you pick up the phone everyday and call your boyfriend.

“you think you’ll be home in time for dinner?”

sometimes you get a different, automated message. “maybe. might have to stay late,” or “can’t, i’ve gotta finish something up,” or your least favourite. a simple, clipped, “no.”

“don’t stay out too late.” you should cut this part from the script, he never listens.

“i’ll try.”

“i love you.” this line is always to be spoken quietly, followed by holding your breath while you wait for his response. it’s the only reason you make these calls. this is your only chance to hear him say it and pretend he means it as much as he once did.

“love you too.” the line goes dead, the lights dim and he’s gone. you’re alone on an empty stage staring out at a bored audience. bored of the foolish protagonist who keeps them locked in the theatre, playing the same ending over and over and expecting something to give, to change. they watch on, silent and judging while you barter away what little dignity you have left.

let them watch.

the rejection doesn’t sting as badly as it used to. you’ve learned to bear it, swallow down the hurt that sits like a stone in your gut and go about your day, filling it with any meaningless errand that would stop your mind from wandering back to him.

mattsun was subtle, you could give him that much. the way he slowly pulled away from your arms until you could hardly remember how he felt beneath your palms. the realization that you don’t really know your boyfriend anymore was slow to hit you but it knocked the air out of your lungs when it did. it crashed down on you when you woke in the middle of the night and turned to stare at his back gently rising and falling with every breath. his hair is longer then you remember and you don’t know why the thought has a lump forming in your throat. you focus instead on the broad expanse of his back. he’s tense, even in sleep, shoulders rigid and you’re sure if you could see his face, his brows would be furrowed. subtle changes that are enough for you to realize you’ve been shut out of his life.

you used to know him. when you were university kids who thought the future would never catch up to them and spent countless days in each other’s company. it wasn’t so much you knew him, it felt like you were him. and he was you. less attached to the hip and more intertwined with one another. you two were of one mind, to the point where you knew what the other needed before they’d even say it.

your mattsun who was always just a text away.

your mattsun who would indulge your late night drives, who would look at you with a permanent crooked smile on his face and love in his eyes.

“you think we’ll always be like this?” you said one night, straddling him in panties and a baggy hoodie in the backseat and lazily kissing beneath the stars. and because he was yours and understood every little anxious thought that crossed your mind, he didn’t question why you were asking, didn’t make you explain what you meant, didn’t try to make a half assed joke about it.

his hands trailed up your sides as he contemplated his answer, sending shivers up your spine. “probably not. things always change. we’ll change with them.”

“what if things get worse?”

“they might. but what if they get better? just cause it’s different doesn’t mean it's scary, angel.”

“i know. but i hate thinking about it cause things are so good right now. i want it to last forever.”

“we got time. let’s make the most of it, yeah?” he gripped your hips, slowly grinding you against his growing bulge and pulling you back into a kiss, sighing as your lips slotted together. you took control of the pace and grinned against him when a groan spilled into your mouth.

“is that your way of saying we should hurry up and fuck?”

“it’s working, isn’t it?” before you could pull your sweater up over your head, he cupped your face and brought your forehead to his, sincerity shining through his dark eyes. “i’ll always love you. that’ll never change. got it?”

“got it.” you managed to push the words out despite the lump that formed in your throat. he kept his eyes locked on yours as he slid your panties to the side and sank inside you, the familiar stretch a welcome one.

it was nothing special, one night of many spent panting into each other’s mouths with an unspoken promise still hanging from your lips. but it was a memory you circled back to often, so often you could hear the echo of his vow ring through your head.

your fears came to pass not long after that. life caught up and tore him from you, leaving you a shattered mess in the aftermath. you tried to fit jagged pieces of yourself back together in an attempt to remake the person you used to be but what stared back at you only left you keenly aware of the empty space he used to reside.

these days, you like going to the roof of your apartment and letting the wind blow through those countless gaps in your soul. you feel whole for a short while as it whistles through you, the air filled with the broken melody of you, of the relationship that slips past your grasp more everyday. it’s shrill and ear piercing and leaves goosebumps littered on your skin.

you can’t stop listening to it.

it’s where you were now, staring out as the sun dipped below the horizon and listening to the haunting sound that’s been your only company in recent memory. later, you’ll go home and crawl into bed desperate for any warmth and no time to miss the heat of a body next to yours. your phone lights up bright in contrast to the darkening sky and it takes you a few moments of staring blankly at the screen for it to sink in that mattsun is trying to call you.

this isn’t part of the script.

you don’t know your lines.

and yet you find yourself answering anyway, hitting the green button before the call drops and you raise your phone to your ear silently.

“are you okay?” his voice comes out rushed and strung together almost before your phone is pressed to your ear.

“why’re you asking?”

“remember that time you failed that essay? i think it was third year and you hid in your room all day and wouldn’t answer the phone?” you did remember. how you couldn’t bear to face the world that day with the crushing weight of failure hanging over you and how shocked you were to see mattsun standing at the front door. “did i ever tell you why i checked up on you?”

“no.”

“the whole day i felt, in my gut, like i needed to see you. i can’t describe it, it was like a stab that just dug deeper until i went to your place. would you believe me if i said i have that feeling right now?”

“i- i would.” you say quietly, wondering if he could even hear you over the roar of the wind.

“are you okay?” he repeats. there’s a weight behind his words that has tears springing to your eyes.

“no, issei ‘m not.”

“i’m almost home, i’m parking right now. i’ll be up in a few minutes, okay? wait for me, angel.”

you were always waiting for him, weren’t you? what's a couple more minutes? you hang up and try in vain push down the wave of anxiousness that hits you. it’s just mattsun, you try to remind yourself. even if it’s been awhile since you’ve really felt like a part of his life, he’s still the person you fell in love with. right?

even if the issei from the past would never have made you feel so alone. the issei that was free from the hardships of real life, of 9-5s and bills due and rent to pay. you miss that issei, mourn for him on empty rooftops everyday. maybe he’s still alive somewhere within this new issei but it’s not like you would know.

you head off the roof, shivering slightly as you make your way home. the days were only getting colder, you should’ve known not to stay out for so long. you were trying to get your shaky hands to cooperate and unlock the door when you hear the elevator dings open and your name being called out.

“you weren’t home?” he asks, gently prying your keys from your grasp and opening the door for you both. as soon as he locks it behind you, his hands are covering yours once more. “baby you’re freezing.”

words. where were your words? you couldn’t call up any as he brought your joined hands to his mouth, blowing hot air on them and rubbing them between his to warm them up. this is the closest you’ve been to him in who knows how long and you couldn’t summon up a single sentence. it’s not your fault. his attention has always stunned you into silence.

he thought you were painfully shy the first time you met and though that was half true, you mostly found yourself silently panicking about the handsome man that suddenly sat beside you. the professor had paired the class off to discuss the readings for that lecture and your interest had only come to life when you saw the dark haired man make his way to you.

“i’m gonna be honest.” he said as he plopped down beside you and showed you the blank document open on his laptop. “i have no idea what we’re supposed to be doing right now. do you?”

it was his eyes, you decided much later, hugging your pillow and staring at the text you just received from a new number. you came alive under his gaze like you could finally catch your breath, everything dull until his eyes landed on you. you don’t believe in love at first sight, this was something different. it was the dust of collapsing stars finding each other once more. it was strings of fate being braided together. it was more profound, more important than love and it all happened in a moment.

you nodded in response to his earlier question though it was clear neither of you were paying any attention to what was going on in class, too caught up in the small bubble that surrounded you and drowned out the rest of the world.

“matsukawa. i’m- my name’s matsukawa.” you must’ve given your name in return judging by the smile he gave you in return. “so what’re we doing, partner?”

this time, you forced a proper response, intensely aware of how you held yourself in a way you’ve never been before. “yeah, she just wants us to talk about today’s reading.”

matsukawa watched you pull up your notes, resting his head in his hand while you began explaining the general concepts. you paused when you noticed he was still looking at you and not at the notes you had angled towards him.

“am i explaining it okay?”

“we’re a month into the semester, how have i not noticed you before?”

“guess you don’t notice something you’re not looking for.”

just then the professor grabbed everyone’s attention, the student’s quietly migrating back to their seats but matsukawa stayed where he was. instead, you could just hear him speak under his breath, more to himself then to you but you still managed to pick it up, your face going hot as it echoed in your head. “trust me, i’m looking now.”

the memory leaves you more vulnerable than you expected, soft in his arms as the numbness finally fades and the shaking stops.

“where were you?” he says.

“the roof.” his brows furrow, lips pulled down in a frown. it’s strange feeling yourself falling back into reading him so easily, not needing him to ask to know he wanted you to explain why. “i like going up there. this place is too quiet with just me in it.”

the longer you watch him, the more you pick up from his body language. the confusion then understanding that flits across his face, the underlying care you’re so familiar with as he smooths his thumb over the back of your hand. but more than anything you start to see his guilt. his muscles are rigid with it, it swims in his eyes that never quite seem to meet yours.

“i’ve fucked up, haven't i?” he finally says when he realizes you won’t be the one to breach the subject.

“issei…”

“no, i have. things have been so endless, i feel like i’m half awake and i’ve hurt you because of it.”

you squeeze his hands, trying to reassure him. “just talk to me. please.”

“i hate it. work is nonstop, everyday is the same shit over and over. it’s just a wave that keeps knocking me down and i can barely get my footing before it pushes me down again. and every day i think about quitting just to get ready the next morning.

“if i was alone, if… if i didn’t have you i would’ve quit so long ago but i want to give you the life you deserve and i can’t do that if i’m broke. and it all might be for nothing cause i might’ve lost you already.”

the confession ends with mattsun clearing his throat, blinking fast and concentrating solely on your laced hands. you can’t seem to catch your breath, struggling under the weight he had carried silently until now as he finally shares the burden with you.

“you haven’t lost me, issei. look at me.” you wait until his eyes meet yours before dropping your voice to a whisper. “you haven’t lost me.”

“i don’t deserve you.”

“it’s not about deserving, i chose you. i chose to love you, i chose to stay when things got bad. yeah, you hurt me.” it’s impossible to miss the full body flinch at your words, “and i’m not ready to forgive you just yet. but that doesn’t mean i’m giving up on us. i don’t want you working yourself to death for me. i don’t care where we live or how much money you spend on me. i don’t need all of that, i just need you. got it?”

“got it.” you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows down whatever feeling overcomes him, “i’m sorry.”

“i know.”

“tell me what you need, please. i need- i need to make this right.”

you answer by leaning forward and mattsun meets you halfway. the kiss is soft in contrast to the way you bundle the front of his shirt in your fists, afraid the moment might end before it’s even begun but mattsun takes his time cherishing you. there’s regret and gratitude and love that dances across your tongue and the taste has pressure building behind your eyes.

it isn’t enough. you need him closer, need him to line the cracks of your soul with his touch. you pull just far back enough to break the kiss and mumble against his lips, “more, ‘sei please. i’m so cold.”

“anything you want, pretty baby. let me make you feel good, yeah?”

his lips crash back down on yours with renewed eagerness. there’s a desperation that wasn’t there a moment ago fuelling you both and urging you to stumble blind into the bedroom, barely letting your mouths detach as you fumble and undress each other.

it’s not until you’re naked before him that your head clears a bit and shyness comes creeping in. he cups your face as though he could sense you curling into yourself and simply says, “beautiful.”

the utter conviction in his voice is enough to dispel any insecurities before they have a chance to latch on and you turn your head to kiss the center of his palm, silently telling him you were all right. together you land in a tangled heap in bed, his half hard cock resting on your thigh. mattsun kisses his way down your neck, licking and sucking at every sensitive spot he had mapped out over the years.

“issei…” you say, impatience tinging your voice as you feel your core throb with need.

“i’ll get you there, angel, you know i will. let me take my time, i missed you.”

true to his word, he began kissing every inch of skin he could reach. your tits, your stomach, your thighs all the way down to your ankles, he made sure to shower with affection. it’s nearly overwhelming. you knew you were starved for his attention but it feels like something breaks loose inside you the longer his mouth trails over your body, whispering declarations into your skin that left you tingling in his wake. by the time his fingers dip between your legs, your thighs are sticky with arousal, clit thrumming and begging to be touched.

“look at my pretty baby’s pussy. all wet just for me?”

“mhmm ‘s all for you, issei.”

he hums, swirling his middle finger around your entrance and pressing the thick digit inside with ease. it’s only a few pumps later he adds another, stretching out your gummy walls. his other hand drifts over your mound, his thumb finally giving your clit some attention as his fingers graze over a spot inside you that has your hips rising off the bed.

“stay still. you want to be my good girl, right?” the quiet authority that radiates from mattsun has you clenching around him, doing your best to do as he asks and keep your legs spread for him. “there you go. you’re taking me so well, baby. you’re close, aren’t you? i can feel it”

mattsun loves showing off how well he knew your body, how it never took long for you to crumble beneath him. a few more idle circles with the pad of his thumb and your orgasm washes over you, rising gently and leaving you relaxed in its wake.

that state didn’t last long as he replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking at your clit that twitches against his tongue, still sensitive from your high. “issei! w-wait please give me a sec-”

his glare is enough to cut through your babbling, his fingers never slowing in their strokes against that sweet spot. you let out a low moan as he adds yet another finger, the stretch just shy of uncomfortable but it’s quick to fade into pleasure once again. the flame in your gut is far more intense this time and you can’t stop the whimpers he pulls from you. you thread your fingers through his dark curls, tugging on them and pulling him deeper into your folds.

“that’s it, princess. cum on my tongue and i’ll stuff you full, i promise. you can do it, c’mon baby.”

the encouragement has the coil in your gut tightening once more and the lewd sounds of mattsun lapping up every drop that escapes you is enough to snap it. when the blood stops ringing in your ears, you realize he’s shifted your positions. he’s sat cross-legged on the bed with you pulled into his lap, legs locked around his waist. his cock is pinned between your stomachs, smearing precum on your skin and your mouth waters as you catch sight of the blushing tip.

he whispers your name to grab your attention, naked devotion plain on his face when you gaze up at him. “i love you.”

this. this was your breaking point. the words you longed to hear every time you picked up the phone for those dreaded calls. your vision blurs with tears that well up and spill down your cheeks before you could blink them away. “you do?”

“i do, baby, with everything i’ve got. i-“ he falters for a moments, visibly steeling himself for what he wanted to say. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you. there’s not a future i can picture that doesn’t include you. you’re it for me.”

“i want that too ‘sei.” you hiccup, more tears trickle out faster than you can wipe them clear.

you feel his whole body relax, hands rubbing at your sides to soothe you. “don’t cry, angel. wait till i’m inside you at least.”

“shut up.” your laugh comes out watery but it feels good to smile. “how do you go from sweet to nasty so fast?”

“just wanted to see you smile.” you try and fail to suppress another grin that only widens when mattsun peppers your cheeks with loud kisses. “so pretty and all mine.”

“all yours.” you repeat, grinding your soaked folds along the underside of his cock. “and you’re mine, right?”

“that’s right, princess. go on, take what’s yours.”

sinking down on mattsun feels like coming home, the empty ache finally gone as he fills you and you both moan when he bottoms out. there’s no way for you to bounce in this position but you find that you don’t mind. you feel closer to him like this, what little space there is between you vibrating with how vulnerable you both were.

it’s relaxing, slowly rolling your hips against each other, not building towards anything and indulging in the other’s touch. your hands roam across his broad back, sucking dark marks into his neck while he grabs at your ass, kneading and groping so possessively you clench around him.

“fuck.” he groans next to your ear. “keeping squeezing me with that princess cunt, you feel so fucking good. just like that, good girl.”

“issei…” you whimper, pressure gradually building in your gut as your grinding gets sloppy and legs grow weak.

“what is it, baby? use your words.”

“want more, ‘sei i want your cum.”

“yeah? want me to fill up this greedy pussy and keep you warm with my cum?” he leans forward, keeping you cradled in his arms as your back hits the mattress, your legs still crossed around his waist keeping him as close to you as possible.

you nod, half delirious with need and mattsun begins thrusting in earnest. his cock is so thick he nudges against every sensitive spot along your walls, his tip battering just below your cervix and hitting so deep you swear you can feel it in your throat. his hands pry yours open from where you had been gripping the sheets and laces his fingers with yours. a swell of love rises in you and has you gasping for air as he fucks you into the mattress. you can’t even hear your own moans over the squelch as you grow wetter and wetter and the smack of his heavy balls against your ass.

your orgasm takes both of you by surprise, ripping through you so violently you’re left a shaking mess. mattsun’s hips stutter, bucking wildly into you as he nears his own high and you stare in awe as he reaches it. it’s a sight you’ll never get enough of, how beautiful he looks as he spills endlessly inside you, mindlessly grinding it deeper with his softening cock.

“you okay, angel?” he asks, pulling you in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“mhmm. can we stay like this?” you weren’t ready to put any space between you, not so soon after reconnecting.

“‘course we can.” he settles over you, knowing exactly what you need. his weight a reassurance that grounds you in a way words never could. it’s a conversation in its own right, one that could only pass between two people who knew each other as well as you knew each other. in the quiet afterglow he tells you that he’s here with you. that you were going to work on being okay again. that he wouldn’t let you feel that lonely ever again. and you believe him with every fibre of your being.

dedicated to: @honeykeigo @ohno-otome @keigobaby @saintdabi @toshidou @sawam0chi

#matsukawa x reader #matsukawa smut #matsukawa angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu angst #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa issei smut #matsukawa issei angst #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu!! smut

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andtheydontstopwriting · 3 years ago

Text

𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙨 -【Rodrick Heffley x F!Reader】- One-Shot

rating: pg

word count: 6.2k

summary: [y/n], daughter from a wealthy family from New York City, has been keeping her relationship with rodrick heffley a secret from her parents, though what happens if it’s brought up and her parents want to meet the secret boyfriend?

author’s note: here it is! hope you guys all enjoy it!! though i did want to let you know that i wrote this originally as a piece of work for my original character, which is why it is in third person! if you want to request anything feel free to!! once again, thank you for reading it!

keys: [y/nn] - your nickname

“I didn’t mean to tell them, [Y/NN].” Caleb spoke in hushed tones, as he attempted to prevent any outburst that he doubted would come from his younger sister, but it was still something that he felt that needed to be stopped, “But I’m sure neither you or Rodrick would exactly be thrilled if you ended up going to homecoming with David or Chad, and you know how dad-.”

“Listens to you, yes, I do know that, Caleb,” [Y/N] began, though her train of thought was shooting off in a million different directions, “And I do appreciate you trying to stick up for my happiness, but now we have to deal with what comes with doing that.”

It did not take long for Caleb to know what [Y/N] meant, because their father did bring it up in the conversation that started this whole situation.

“Father and Mother want to meet him.”

“And I don’t know if I can teach Rodrick to have the manners and social know-how that we and whoever Father believes would be more acceptable.”

“Maybe it’s for the best that’s the case, [Y/NN],” Caleb pointed out, placing a gentle hand on his

sister’s shoulder, “Give yourself the chance to step out of the spotlight for once, your happiness is what’s important.”

[Y/N] merely just nodded, because she knew that the standards their father placed on both of them were vastly different. Caleb could afford some level of security in the notion of not being worried about what their father thinks, because he does not have to work so hard to make their father happy.

This was something the teenager always had to grapple with growing up. Eventually, coming to terms with since she was the youngest, her future compared to her older brother’s was uncertain, unclear, and too many factors were up in the air: where was she going to college? What would her major be? What would her future career be? What sort of family would she have? Who would she marry?

Whereas Caleb had his future planned from the moment he was born: attend an ivy league for business then take over the family company, marry a family friend/one of the daughters of their father’s business associates or a family that would be useful to merge with and have a family. It was always clear and never questioned, even when they were kids. It took little effort on his part to make their father happy, because the expectations were clear as day and never took a moment of thought to figure out.

It was her burden to bear, and never had the strength in her to expect anyone to understand the judging gaze always cast her way, as if waiting for her to mess up or make a mistake to remind her of her failures no matter how perfect she appeared to the public eye. To her own boyfriend, even.

And part of her subconscious wished it would remain that way forever. But life has a funny way of working out in the end.

Her parents at dinner the same night her and Caleb conferred, they brought up having this mystery boy their daughter had been seeing secret over for dinner so they could have a chance to finally meet. [Y/N] had little say in the matter and the Saturday before Homecoming was agreed upon.

As soon as she returned to her bedroom for the night, [Y/N] knew she had to bring it up to Rodrick as soon as she could if they were to have any chance of staying together after that Saturday. The week they just about had was not going to be enough, but [Y/N] still felt she had to put the effort into trying to teach Rodrick at least table manners her parents would expect. But perhaps even that was pushing it.

:~+~:

“Your parents want to meet me?”

“Well, they did say they want to meet you, but I don’t think it’s because they know it’s you, Rodrick.”

Perhaps on their near nightly phone call was not the ideal place to tell Rodrick about the dinner, but it was the first instance she could get it out without her anxiety getting the better of her about telling him in the first place. It saved her having to tell him in person and save herself from seeing how he reacted in real time.

“And dinner was the best place for that to happen?” Rodrick questioned after a brief moment of silence and a familiar squeak of some springs faintly resounded into the speaker on his end. He must have

“With my family, yes,” The blonde confirmed, “With all things considered, with the holidays too far away and Homecoming approaching sooner, and they specifically said they wanted to meet you before the dance, a dinner is the only way.”

“Okay…” Rodrick trailed off, going silent for a moment, “When is dinner anyway?”

“Next Saturday,” [Y/N] replied, though quickly added before her boyfriend could speak, “We’re gonna have to have etiquette lessons, Rod, so I can teach you everything that you’re gonna need if you’re gonna make it through the night.”

“What do you mean etiquette, babe?”

“Like how to sit at a table, which fork and spoon to use and when to use them, what you can and can’t say, that sort of stuff. The basics.”

“Do you think a week is enough time to teach me all that junk?”

“Luckily for you, you have a great teacher and someone who has been taught this stuff her whole life, I think something will stick.”

“Alright, whatever you say babe,”

“I’ll even help you get ready,” [Y/N] promised, though had to amend it with, “I’ll try to, anyway, I'll at least come over to make sure you have an appropriate outfit because t-shirts won’t cut it.”

There was a clear groan of annoyance on the other end of the line before the teenager spoke, “You know I hate wearing ties, [Y/N], and I’m already pushin’ wearing it for Homecoming and not to church.”

“I know, I know,” [Y/N] sighed as she brought a hand up to her face as she stood from her bed to start pacing her room, “But it’s just for one more night than normal, Rodrick, I promise.”

“And what do I get in return, huh?”

“A girlfriend?”

“Okay, yeah, that’s a pretty solid deal.”

“So lessons start tomorrow, okay?”

“After the band practice,”

“After the band practice then.” [Y/N] confirmed as she sat on her bed once more, “Good night, sweetheart.”

“Night, babe.”

:~+~:

Okay, so the lessons did not go great, but they went about as well as [Y/N] expected. Teaching Rodrick how to behave and act as closely to the way she and her brother had grown up being taught was like pulling teeth, and much like chemistry, it was looking like nothing was sticking. And if anything was sticking, it was gone by the next day and they had to start over.

Meaning, come that fateful Saturday, [Y/N] could only hope that her very quick rundown of the basics, the true basics of what Rodrick needed to know the night before when she went over the Heffley’s house the previous night to get possible outfit choices ready and wrinkle free knowing the state of his bedroom and how clothes could be just...existing on the floor and if it was a process for her to find clean t-shirts of his to steal, then she figured the dressier clothes he owned were living the same way.

“What’s troubling you, little bird?” Her mother asked her daughter, as she had noticed that [Y/N] had been a little distracted in chopping the vegetables up. Not only that, she had been on edge since had left her bedroom that morning.

“I’m worried about dinner tonight, Mother,” [Y/N] answered, shaking her head a bit to refocus her attention on chopping the vegetables.

“I’m sure your Father will be on his best behavior, there’s no reason to be worried.” Helena spoke softly, reassuring her daughter with the soothing tones and having set the spoon down beside the stove top to go over and gently brush [Y/N]’s hair back, “Everything will be fine, little bird.”

As much as [Y/N] wanted to believe her mother was right, that things would be fine and everything would go smoothly,she also had to remind herself of her father’s constant attempts to control her life, and everything in her life. That included who she dates and there had been plenty of failed attempts in the past because of this meddling, and [Y/N], for once, just wanted to be free of the constant puppet strings attached to her that her father controlled.

“Father’s best behavior is turbulent, Mother, you know this,” [Y/N] pointed out with a sigh, “Rodrick isn’t exactly what Father believes to be best for me, and I’m afraid if Rodrick says one thing he doesn’t like, that's it, we’re through.”

“Your father’s opinion does not always matter, remember that his say is not final-”

“It’s been final before.” [Y/N] interjected, “Remember he wouldn’t let me try out for the cheer team?”

“He’s just looking out for what's best for you, that’s all.”

After that, the kitchen was silent save for the sounds of cooking, because once more [Y/N]’s anxiety took over and Helena simply did not know how to comfort her daughter anymore. It was easiest to just finish dinner and then go get ready for it, adn say nothing else on the matter for fear of making things worse.

However, just as [Y/N] was finishing up getting ready when she heard the familiar sound of an engine rumbling up the driveway. And gazing out of one of her bedroom windows that overlooked the front of the house, she saw the familiar van park in front of the garage.

So that is a good thing, Rodrick managed to remember to get there early as she insisted numerous times upon. Not that much earlier than the time she said dinner would start, but it was something, at least.

Next came the issue of watching Rodrick getting out of the van. While he did dress the part, the part was also distracting her that she kept her eyes trained on him before he disappeared under the roof that covered the front porch. It was indeed a rare instance for [Y/N] to see her boyfriend dressed up, considering she never exactly went with the Heffley family to church on Sundays.

So it was easy to understand as to why she had zoned out, nearly daydreaming and ogling over what she saw from a distance what her boyfriend was wearing. Though before she could fully dive into the daydream, the echoing sound of the ring of the doorbell echoed across the house and it was enough to snap [Y/N] out of her head and she was quick to stand from her vanity, hoping to make it to the front door before her parents or brother could open the door.

However, her attempts were in vain because of the delay it took her to stand and began the mad dash to the front of the house and the size of the home itself, and by the time she had reached the top of the stairs, she saw her mother already at the front door and as [Y/N] made her descent down the staircase, she heard what was spoken.

“Ah, so you must Rodrick,” Helena spoke, though [Y/N] could get a hint of confusion from the tone used, which [Y/N] assumed was because her mother had recognized Rodrick from the couple times she had seen him before when she first started to tutor the boy, but that was not brought up when Helen added, “Come in, come in.”

“Uh, thank you, Mrs. Clemens.” [Y/N] heard Rodrick speak as she continued her descent down the staircase, smiling to herself because at least something else stuck: always use formalities, never call my parents by their actual names.

As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was met with a beat of silence and then Rodrick saying without much hesitation, “You look beautiful,”

A dust of pink appeared on her cheeks and she briefly looked towards her mother away from Rodrick, who looked between the teenagers before taking the steps towards the dining room, allowing the young couple a moment alone before the dinner began.

“I have to admit, I know you hate getting all dressed up,” [Y/N] spoke as she neared Rodrick, reaching up to gently adjust the tie around his neck, “But I wouldn’t be opposed to you dressing up more often.”

“There isn’t a chance of that happening, babe, you know that.” Rodrick pointed out, though a teasing smile graced his face, which [Y/N] mirrored.

“A girl can dream, can’t she?”

Just as Rodrick was about to lean down to give [Y/N] a quick peck on the lips, he froze in his movements as he both heard a voice from down the hall echo around them and the fact he felt [Y/N] slightly tense up.

“Ah, [Y/N], dinner is about to start, I expected you to be in the dining room already.”

[Y/N] took a deep breath as she began to speak as she stepped to stand beside Rodrick instead, “Father, we were just heading there n-”

“This must be the secret boyfriend, then, Rodrick, wasn’t it?” Charlie interrupted, which was something [Y/N] was used to by then, and held a hand out to Rodrick (another thing [Y/N] could see right through--the charm of a businessman), “Charles.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Rodrick said as he briefly glanced at his girlfriend to see what to do, before [Y/N] replied with a glance down to her father’s extended hand, which Rodrick took with a little too much fervor, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Clemens.”

The energy behind Rodrick’s hand shake with her father was something that would not be much of an issue, but [Y/N] never had a how to shake a hand lesson herself, so it was overlooked when she was teaching her boyfriend what he would need to know. She was a girl, and the only thing she ever got on the subject matter was to be light and certain in the handshake, and that was all. So one look at her father’s face said all that she needed to know.

It was already off to a bad start and they had not even sat down for dinner yet.

Luckily her mother had called them into the dinning room before much more could already add to the poor outcome [Y/N] could start to sense coming already, no matter the words that echoed to counter the notion, hoping that things would look up from there forward.

And for the first part of dinner, it was as her mind had hoped it would be, as everything went smoothly. Any questions her parents asked to Rodrick, it took a moment, but he was always to pull something out that also did not make him nor his family look bad. The looks shared between the Clemens siblings were a mix of relief and happiness as the dinner progressed, because the lessons and seemingly did in the end stick with Rodrick more than [Y/N] previously had suspected they did.

“So, what is it you want to do with your life after you finish up high school, Rodrick?”

That was the question she was dreading, and one she was hoping for once her father would overlook and just accept that fact, move on that the future did not matter as much as the happiness of his children.

And the question must have also thrown Rodrick off for some reason, as he glanced once more at [Y/N] and in turn [Y/N] glanced at Caleb, a look of panic settling on her face.

“I think the team has a good chance of winning the game next week.” Caleb brought up, “So Homecoming may be a celebration for that win, too.”

“The football team has won every year the past several years, Caleb,” Charles pointed out, sighing as he set his fork down on the plate before him, “But that is not what we are talking about now, my boy.”

“The marching band is probably the best we’ve had in years, Father,” [Y/N] quickly added, clearly buying Rodrick enough time to try and find an answer to Charles’ question, “It’ll be worth going to the game for more than just the football team this year.”

“[Y/N], I believed I asked Rodrick a question, so I would appreciate it if you would allow him to answer.” Charles said, his tone rising from calm coolness, to slight agitation as he took a deep breath to calm down once more, “Now, Rodrick, what do you want to do with your future?”

“To be a musician.”

“Oh, a musician,” Helena tried to express some happiness in the discovery, “Are you in the school orchestra with [Y/N]?”

“N-no, Mrs. Clemens,” Rodrick realized his mistake of bringing up the fact he wanted to be a musician, but at the same time, if he said he didn’t know, he was sure he and [Y/N] would be over then and there, “I’m in a band with some of my friends.”

“What type of music do you play then?” Charles asked and [Y/N] and Caleb once more exchanged looks before [Y/N] looked to Rodrick once again. A look that said there was no point in lying about it now.

“Heavy metal.”

“Oh…” Charles began, glancing between [Y/N] and Rodrick, before his eyes landed once again on Rodrick, “That’s an interesting choice, have you not considered going to college or another career path?”

“Charles,” Helena interjected, giving her husband a look from across the table, “Now is not the time.”

“What?” Charles asked, clearly confused as to what his wife could mean, “What’s so wrong about getting to know the boy who my little princess is dating?”

From there, Helena merely just shook her head and dinner continued in silence, The only sound was the clatter of utensils as they hit the plate. [Y/N] kept her gaze down at the plate in front of her, merely just pushing what food was left around on her plate. Though, at some point, under the table, she reached over to gently grab a hold of Rodrick’s hand. To which, Rodrick merely just briefly looked over to [Y/N] and the only thing he could really do in reaction to it, was to let go of the tension in his shoulders before attempting to finish the meal before him.

As expected, her mother announced that she would go and get dessert not too long after, but it would be a few minutes to warm it up once again. So as [Y/N] stood to start clearing the table, her father also stood.

“[Y/N], could I speak to you for a moment?” Was all he said before he started his way towards the office he had at home.

[Y/N] knew what would come from this conversation, and she had to try to be strong this time. She knew that this conversation would be her dad trying to get [Y/N] to break things off with Rodrick--something she knew was going to happen as soon as her father brought up the question of what Rodrick wanted to do with the future. His dream was not to be anything her father expected the man [Y/N] to be with. And it was time for her to take her own life into her own hands after so long of being looked down upon and controlled by the plan her father had for her.

“What is it you see in that boy, [Y/N]?” Charles questioned as soon as the door to the office was shut behind [Y/N].

“I can assure you that Rodrick is someone with more than meets the eye, Father.” [Y/N] answered clearly as she rose to stand up a little straighter.

“But you are aware that he is not ideal, don’t you?” Her father spoke as he folded his arms behind his back, taking the strides to stand in front of his daughter, “You should be with someone like Edward Vill or Chad Danford. Not someone who you met tutoring, and someone who believes his heavy metal band will take off.”

He waited a moment for [Y/N] to speak, but all she did instead was lower her head and folded her hands at her front, so Charles continued, “All you have to do is end things with Rodrick and your future already looks brighter, my princess.”

“That’s your plan for my life, though,” [Y/N] pointed out, her tone quieter than she wanted it to come out, but she soon found her confidence once more as she added, “For once I want to do things my way, so with all due respect father, I don’t think I will break things off with Rodrick no matter what your standards are for me.”

“The standards I hold for you are meant to ensure you have a future.” Charles began, using a variation of the same speech [Y/N] heard time and time again, “As you know, your brother will take over the company, so I just want to make sure your foundation is strong in whatever ways I can provide. You’re young, you know little of how the world works.”

“Have you not realized that in trying to live up to your expectations, I’m putting my own happiness at stake?”

“The real world knows nothing of individual happiness, [Y/N], success is the only thing that will cultivate any sense of the word.”

“I’m doing my best as I am right now, and then some, trying to gain the success you wish from me,” [Y/N] finally lifted her gaze up, though the tears starting to well in her eyes as soon as she did, looking at the man she called father, but had not felt like one in years, “But even with all that I have accomplished and juggled since we moved, you still think I’m a failure, and nothing I ever do is right.”

“There’s always more, you never have to stop working and aiming high.” Charles’s voice began to rise once again, “And being with that boy is going to prevent you from doing such.”

[Y/N] shook her head just as the tears started to fall from her eyes, “I’m done trying to be what you think I am, because I’ll never be good enough for you.”

“Young lady, you listen-” Charles began, but [Y/N] was quick to interrupt for once.

“No, I’m done listening and following whatever it is you say for me to do, I’m choosing my happiness for once, which means I am not breaking up with Rodrick just because you do not approve of him.”

And while Charles attempted to persuade [Y/N] otherwise, he did try to get her to understand why he does what he does, but [Y/N] was not having it. And despite his efforts to also get her to stay, [Y/N] was quick to make her leave, knowing if she stayed any longer it would turn out uglier than it had already become. And they did not need that to happen.

Instead, [Y/N] tried her best to compose herself, keep herself together, as she went back into the dining room to get Rodrick. She did not need her brother or her boyfriend doting on her immediately, and she had to stay strong as she left the family home because she could not afford any more signs of weakness.

Though the soft hand on Rodrick’s shoulder and her quiet yet slightly quivering voice as [Y/N] asked, “Can we leave now?” was all Rodrick needed to have to know things did not go well when she talked with her dad, but he didn’t know what was discussed.

“See you around, Caleb,” Rodrick said before he stood from the dining table and [Y/N] was quick to grab a hold of his hand to walk out of the house.

“Young lady, you stay in this house or you’ll be grounded for the rest of your life!” She heard her father call out as he was approaching the foyer, but Helena was quick to hold him back.

“Charles, let her go,” She tried to reason with her fuming husband, “You two need some space right now,”

[Y/N] shot a quick apologetic look to her mother as she grabbed her purse hanging by the front door before opening the large wooden door and stepped outside.

“Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Clemens, it was real good!” Rodrick felt like he needed to say something before he shut the door behind him, and that was what happened to come out. Perhaps it was nerves talking and not filtering his thoughts that were not filled with concern for his girlfriend. And when they cleared the steps of the front porch, the boy was quick to make the steps to walk side by side, gently squeezing [Y/N]’s hand as they got to the van.

As soon as everything was unlocked, and both were in their respective spots, Rodrick turned the noisy van on, backed up, and began the drive down the long driveway and back onto the street. [Y/N], meanwhile, just leaned her head against the window, staring mindlessly out the side view mirror and watched as the house she had started to call home grew smaller and smaller as they moved away from it, and she could see two figures standing on the porch but soon as they turned the corner onto the street, they were out of sight.

:~+~:

Rodrick did not know what [Y/N] wanted to do, and she had been silent since asking him to leave her house. So he assumed it best to play it safe and drive around town as she calmed down enough to tell him what she wanted to do, or at least, he felt like she could answer when asked what she wanted to do. He knew by then to not push [Y/N], let her do things at her own time, because of his experience during finals last year and how she got so stressed out she shut down for a few hours.

Though after an hour of driving, from the corner of his eye, Rodrick could see that [Y/N] made an effort to lift her head off of the window and that was the sign that she was calming down and he made the choice to ask a question.

“Wanna hit up the convenience store since we bailed on dessert?”

There was a moment of silence, then two, then three, before Rodrick heard the defeated voice of his girlfriend come from her mouth, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And with that guidance and direction on what to do next, Rodrick complied and drove to the nearest convenience store.

The next thirty minutes or so of the evening for the young couple were spent attempting to rid themselves of the pain and sorrow of the evening that had happened earlier. Trying to be young once more without any burdens or cares. And with this attempt to change how the night progressed, came the night chill and while Rodrick was fine, [Y/N] was not. Luckily, or unluckily, Rodrick had left one of his sweatshirts in the back of the van--which was the unlucky part, because it was found in the back of the van and who knows when it was last washed. But it was better than nothing, so [Y/N] accepted it and was grateful it at least smelled of him--the cologne he started to wear more frequently, that is. Once inside the shop, they moved through the snack and candy aisles with careful thought and consideration of what they wanted, with [Y/N] clinging onto Rodrick’s arm, her head resting upon his upper arm as they moved through the aisles and made their decisions of what felt appropriate for the evening--for Rodrick, a bag of chips and for [Y/N] a bag of sour gummy candy, as well as a bag of chocolate to share between them, and went to check out.

They chose to just sit and eat in the back of the van, still parked in the parking lot of the convenience store, as it was easier than finding somewhere else to go. They also sat in considerable silence once again, the only sounds this time were the bags crinkling and the sound of the crunch of the chip whenever Rodrick ate one, side by side as close as they could be and eat with ease at the same time.

“I’m tired of trying to be good enough,” [Y/N] suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that fell over them once she had decided she had finished with her candy for now.

Rodrick, who had been in the middle of eating a chip when [Y/N] decided to speak up, was grateful that he had something in his mouth as it allowed him the time to process what his girlfriend just said and figure out what he was going to say in return. In the meantime, he set aside his bag of chips and shifted enough to reach out and grab a hold of [Y/N]’s hand.

“I’m tired of tryin’, too,” Was what he apparently settled with, having never exactly been good at the whole comforting thing, “So we can be tired of it together.”

There was no verbal response from [Y/N], but she responded to this statement by gently rolling her head onto his shoulder, her other hand also came up to start playing with his fingers after setting the bag of candy down. So Rodrick took this that she was listening to what he was saying, but wasn’t sure in what way.

“Buuuut, one of the smartest girls I know taught me once that having two negatives together ends up canceling out the other, so we can just be tired together, instead.”

With this addition, a breathy laugh was heard in his ears and a proud little half smile appeared on his face as he heard her voice once again not being plagued by anxiety, but simply by sleepiness.

“I don’t think you understood that full lesson, sweetheart, remember how you almost flopped that test because you didn’t?”

With her statement being made, Rodrick’s smile grew into a full one before he tilted his head to place a gentle but loving kiss to the top of her head, before he murmured against her hair, “But I would have totally failed without you, babe.”

“We can just be tired together, Rodrick,” [Y/N] confirmed after a moment of quiet enjoyment of the moment, “And deal with all the teenage bullshit together.”

“Wow, did you just swear, babe?” Rodrick said in joking disbelief as he leaned away to look at [Y/N] head on.

“It’s been a long night, sweetheart.”

“My place?”

“I don’t think either of our parents would appreciate us sleeping in the back of your van, so yes, your place.”

:~+~:

“Where have you two been?” Was what they were greeted with as soon as they arrived at the Heffley family home, “We’ve been worried sick!”

“Sorry, mom,” Rodrick began, stepping in front of [Y/N] as he added, “We just went on a drive and stopped to get snacks, that’s all.”

“Your mother called, [Y/N], and she was worried when I said you weren’t here, but I’ll go call her to come get you, okay?”

“N-no,” [Y/N] began, the stammer in her voice stopped Susan from going to the phone in the living room, and Frank just looked at her confused, “I, uh, don’t want to go back home tonight, can I please stay?”

“What happened at the dinner that made you not want to go home?” Frank questioned.

“Just some family stuff,” [Y/N] covered easily, though she took a step to stand closer to Rodrick as she continued, “...Didn’t leave on the best of terms.”

“Oh, then of course you can stay, and we can figure this all out tomorrow, but I am going to call your mom back and let her know you’re safe, okay?” Susan said with a gentle smile and [Y/N] reciprocated the smile with a quiet, thank you, before Mrs. Heffley added, “You can sleep on the couch, after I make the call I’ll go get you a blanket,”

“Can she actually sleep in my room?” Rodrick brought up, his tone rushed, to which both his parents gave him a stern look but before his mom could even get the answer of no out, he added, “I don’t want her to be alone after what happened, is all.”

Susan and Frank gave each other a look, before they looked at Rodrick and [Y/N], and they caught the young couple glancing at each other and they saw the softest expression on Rodrick’s face they have ever seen on their son and once more looked back at each other.

“On an air mattress.” Frank said, pointing a finger at the both of them, to which the pair nodded before Mr. Heffley turned to go get the air mattress from the basement.

:~+~:

So [Y/N] never ended up sleeping on the air mattress.

She started out there, trying to do right by Rodrick’s parents since they allowed her to sleep in their son’s bedroom, which she could not be in past 8:30 on a school night usually. But sleeping in some of Rodrick’s clothes and with him only feet away, she was crawling in right beside him not even five minutes in of trying to fall asleep.

When she awoke the next morning, [Y/N] felt a weight on her chest, and not the emotional kind. No, it was almost the entire dead weight of her sound asleep boyfriend sleeping over top of her, his head resting on her shoulder, his wild bed hair tickling her neck. She did not move him off or attempt anything, instead choosing to bask in this moment they rarely got to have and enjoy a quiet Rodrick for once, a version of him totally at peace. Gently, she started to run her fingers along his back through the t-shirt he was wearing, before the fingers of her other hand started to gently card through his hair, which only settled the sleeping teenager deeper into her.

When he settled a little deeper into rest, this was when she had a slight struggle with breathing, and [Y/N] knew that she had to do what was usually impossible: waking Rodrick up.

But luckily for her, she knew a solid weak point that often got him up if he ended up falling asleep before one of their tutoring sessions: tickling his sides.

The action did not shoot him straight awake, but it was enough to shock his brain into making him open his eyes, and groggily lift his head up.

At first, it was clear he was about to settle back into the sleep he just awoke from, but before his eyes fully shut, they opened once more as he processed he was not laying on his mattress, but instead his girlfriend and the sleepy grin that appeared as he lifted his head once more and gazed down at her with half-lidded eyes was a sight [Y/N] would never get used to no matter how much she saw it.

“Good mornin’ babe…” Rodrick mumbled as he began to lean down to give her a good morning kiss too, before he was promptly pushed away with a gentle hand.

“Your morning breath is atrocious, sweetheart,” [Y/N] pointed out with a quiet laugh, “It could kill.”

“C’mon, you know I would never kill you, babe.” Rodrick pouted, “Now c’mon and give me a good morning kiss.”

Rodrick instead kissed all over her face as [Y/N] kept moving her head to avoid Rodrick meeting her lips, but their playfulness was cut short as they heard Susan’s voice from down the staircase calling up to them:

“Rodrick! [Y/N]! It’s time for breakfast!”

And fearing that Susan would come in to check on things, the pair moved--Rodrick faster than he ever had in the morning--to get [Y/N] into the air mattress. It was a bit of a scramble and [Y/N] nearly tripped getting off the twin bed, but she had slipped under the throw blanket on the air mattress just as Susan began her descent up the staircase, and the teenagers pretended to be asleep.

Until they heard the sigh and Susan making her way back down the stairs, their eyes were shut but the moment she heard his mother’s voice away from the attic door, [Y/N] quietly slipped off the air mattress and made her way back to Rodrick’s bed, where she leaned down to give his a soft kiss on the lips.

“We should probably go down stairs soon, sweetheart.”

Rodrick opened his eyes at the feeling and smiled up at [Y/N], who smiled down at him in return.

“I hate it when you’re right, babe.”

It was this moment they both realized something very important, very pivotal.

They both loved the other, and it was a somewhat scary yet exciting thought.

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid

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