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dreamlandreader · 1 year ago

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Sick Day

I have no idea if fae can catch colds/the flu but I’m currently stuck in bed sick so this is my comfort fic 🥲 It isn’t edited because I just wanted to get the idea out of my head, so apologies for any mistakes ❤️

Warnings: Flu, none graphic discussion of flu symptoms, and stubborn Illyrian babies

Feyre Archeron was feeling incredibly smug. She and her mate had somehow managed to survive their son’s first exposure to the flu unscathed.

Poor Nyx had unfortunately become sick after a play date, so Feyre and Rhysand had spent the past week knee-deep in used tissues and providing endless hugs and kisses to their crying toddler, who didn’t quite understand why he couldn’t stop coughing.

For the first time in almost five days, Nyx had felt well enough to play with his toys on the living room carpet, and that’s where Feyre left him under the dutiful watch of his Auntie Elain while she wandered upstairs to join Rhys in their shared office.

Her smile faltered, however, the second she stepped through the door to the office and came face to face with her mate.

Rhys’s usually impeccable style was now far more dishevelled than she was used to seeing. His shirt was buttoned incorrectly, his hair was sticking up as though he had run his hands through it in frustration far too many times, and his perfect nose was looking rather red.

It was then that a single sniffle signalled trouble.

“Love, are you okay?” Feyre asked tentatively, knowing her eldest Illyrian baby would likely be the most challenging to handle when sick.

‘Yes darling, I’m absolutely-” Rhys broke off, falling into a fit of sneezes and released a slight groan before continuing. “Fine. I’m absolutely fine,”

“No offence, but you look awful. Why don’t you take a break? Go back to bed. I can finish up whatever you’re doing.”

“Okay, ouch! Plenty of offence taken. I’m fine. I’m the most powerful high lord. I don’t need to take a break because of the sniffles,” Rhys scoffed before he again began to sneeze uncontrollably.

Deciding it was not worth an argument so early in the day, Feyre settled down at her own desk and began to tackle her looming pile of paperwork, desperately trying to block out her husband’s endless coughing. Feyre’s resolve to leave Rhys to it lasted precisely twenty-two minutes before his sniffling drove her so mad that she slammed her pen down and stormed over to his desk.

“I love you so much, Rhysand, but if you sneeze one more time and refuse to go to bed, I will lose it!”

“Feyre, I can’t!”

“Why?” Feyre practically yelled, “Because of your paperwork? Do you think me so incapable as a High Lady that I cannot sign a few papers and get to grips with our court’s laws?”

“No! It’s not that, and you very well know it,” he argued, incensed that his wife would assume he thought of her as anything less than the most competent of beings.

Sighing, Rhys put his head in his hands and seemed to steady himself before making an important admission.

“I cannot go to bed because he will never let it go.”

“What? Who?”

“Cassian!”

Rhys finally looked up at his wife and met her confused gaze. His beautiful face was full of something Feyre had never seen take over her mate’s expression before. Embarrassment. Rhysand was- well, he was blushing.

“Around my 400th birthday, I contracted a pretty bad case of the flu. My bones ached every time I moved, my head hurt, I couldn’t stop coughing and sneezing, and frankly, I felt dire. So, for the first time ever, I took the day off. I sent word to Cassian that I wouldn’t be at training that morning because I was under the weather, and him being the concerned idiot he is, he turned up thinking I was on my deathbed. When he ran into my bedroom and found me with two chunks of toilet paper stuffed up my nose and an eye mask on to block out the sunlight, well, I’ve never seen him laugh quite so hard. And he has never let it go.” Rhys said, rolling his eyes.

“The great Rhysand,” he exclaimed, deepening his voice to match the grit of his brother’s vocal range. “The most powerful fae in Prythian’s history, taken down by a gnarly cold!”

Feyre’s frown disappeared, replaced by a look of sympathy and understanding. Sitting gently on his lap, Feyre took Rhys’s face in her hands and looked deep into his violet eyes.

“He doesn’t mean anything by it, and it doesn’t upset me by a long shot,” Rhys laughed to himself, “but if I have to go another century listening to his sarcastic comments about it, I may commit murder.”

“So you’re not going to take a break because your stupid, stubborn ass is too full of pride.” Feyre queried.

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” Rhys shrugged.

“Rhys!” Feyre scolded, playfully tapping his shoulder.

“Look, why don’t you just go to bed. Cass is busy the next few days anyway; he doesn’t need to find out where you are. It can be our little secret.” Slowly, Feyre could sense her mate coming around to the idea, and she had one more trick up her sleeve.

“I’ll even stay with you if that will convince you. We can have a day in bed together. Just relax, the two of us.” Feyre suggested, a sly glint in her eye as she ran her fingers up and down Rhysand’s tattooed arm.

“Feyre, we’re already so far behind,” Rhys interrupted, shivering under his mate’s touch.

“It will wait, Rhys. And anything in that pile that can’t, we can delegate to Mor and Amren. They’ll be happy to help,”

“Fine. I’ll agree to one day in bed. On the condition that nobody ever finds out. Oh, and that you stay with me.” Rhys agrees, squeezing Feyre’s hip.

Dragging Rhysand by the hand to their bedroom, Feyre sent a message to her sister informing her that she and Rhys were snowed under with work and asking if she would mind taking Nyx out for the rest of the day. After receiving a reply from Elain that she would happily take her nephew for the afternoon, Feyre settled in bed with Rhysand, pulling him into her chest and stroking his hair in a bid to help him fall asleep. She found success within ten minutes as her mate drifted into a secure slumber.

A week later …

“Oh, by the way, I contacted Tarquin about renewing our trade agreement, and he said he is happy to sign the contract again under the same terms as last time if that is what you both wish, of course,” Mor stated, looking towards her High Lord and Lady.

“I thought you were dealing with the trade agreements alone these days, Rhys?” Azriel questioned, unable to leave his inner spy at the door, even if it was family night.

“I am. I just needed a little extra help this week after being so busy taking care of Nyxie the week before,”

“That’s right, little buddy, you were sick, weren’t you,” Cassian said to the young Illyrian perched on his lap, ruffling his hair and making him giggle.

“Yep. I was sneezy, and I threwed up.”

“Lovely,” Amren cringed from the other end of the table.

“Daddy was sneezy, too, but he didn’t throw up. He sleeped a lot. Mama pet him like a puppy, and he feeled better.”

The table erupted with laughter at the image of the High Lord of the Night Court being stroked like a dog. Rhysand sank in his seat and gave Feyre a pointed stare that said, “I told you so!”

“Oops,” Nyx cried after seeing his father’s strange reaction, “I member now Mama said I was meant to keep that a secret.” Nyx covered his mouth in surprise and looked towards his mother with shame in his eyes.

“It’s okay, baby, it was an accident,” Feyre replied and opened her arms for her son to crawl into.

“Did you- did you check him for fleas before you let him into your bed, Feyre.” Cassian howled, wiping tears from his eyes while meeting Rhysand’s glare.

“Ha ha, very funny. Have you had your fill now?” Rhys quipped.

Cassian opened his mouth again to fling another joke Rhysand’s way but was interrupted by his own inability to avoid letting out a very dramatic sneeze, swiftly followed by three more.

Shock filled Cassian’s face, and his smirk dropped. He took one panicked look at Rhysand, who was holding in his laughter, before looking to Feyre who was wearing her own wicked smile as she handed him a tissue and calmly stated, “Good luck, Lord of Bloodshed.”

#feysand #acotar #rhysand #feyre archeron #acotar fanfiction #feyre x rhysand #feyre cursebreaker #feyre darling #cassian #inner circle #sarah j maas #sjmaas #a court of thorns and roses

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gremoria411 · 1 year ago

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Oh hey, another Gundam: Requiem for Vengeance trailer. Knew I should’ve staggered talking about the Full Armour stuff.

Anyway, given that I’m fresh out of RX-78’s to talk about (at least until we get some more information on the RX-78 Gundam Ex), I’ll have to do something drastic - actually discussing the trailer itself.

Gotta say, it is nice that we can finally get a good look at the mobile suits themselves now that they’ve got models. Regular, non-special Zaku II’s look nice, I’ll be interested in seeing how the proportions stack up. Also, those Gouf Custom’s near the end? Gorgeous. Really hope we get a HG of those (though I’m personally hoping for some unique accessories). I really, really hope we see Doms in this since they’re going to look absolutely beautiful.

I briefly misread the “11 months into the war” bit at the start as just 1 month into the war, and I had to go back and double-check. If it’s 11 months in then that basically allows for all kinds of great tech in place, and it also means that Zeon’s fortunes are going to change very quickly. Depending on precisely when it’s set, it’s either just before or after the Battle of Odessa, which is usually said to be the big turnaround of the entire war, and the beginning of the end for Zeon on Earth.

Character designs look good, I keep seeing the main character (I think it’s Illiya or Elise or something) as Nimona though, but that’s probably just me. It’s really interesting how much like a game it looks, it reminds me a lot of Gundam Igloo, but time will tell if it’s got that series’ charm.

“It’s the Red Wolves! They took out three fleets at Loum!” - The Battle of Loum is one of those things in Gundam where absolutely none of the information we are given about it matches up, so maybe take this with a grain of salt. I should note that Loum is the fight which made Char famous, as he was able to take out five ships single-handedly. The Black Tri-Stars also achieved great fame with their capture of General Revil. There are numerous other noted Zeon aces who made their name at Loum (or during the Earth drop operation), so there’s no harm in the Red Wolves being another. However, three fleets feels a bit implausible.

EDIT: Apparently this is a translation flub, and the intended line was “they took out three ships at Loum”, which makes sense.

(It’s likely emblematic how early UC was typically rather “realistic” with its numbers - a tally of three ships would be very respectable for any ace, and the title of ace itself was awarded after five kills - it sounds low, but speaks to how deadly these fights really were. But as time passes, it’s not unusual to see these numbers exaggerated in fiction. The absolute top aces of the One Year War have just under 200 kills, which would be on par with real-life fighter aces from the Second World War, which gundam’s aces draw heavily from).

Lastly, based on the general tone of the trailer, I’ll assume it’ll be shooting for a grittier take on the one year war a lá Gundam Thunderbolt, so it’ll be interesting to see how that all goes.

#gundam #ramblings #mobile suit gundam #mobile suit Gundam requiem for vengeance #gundam universal century #universal century #Gundam aces #battle of loum #requiem for vengeance #Gundam rfv

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ballsballsbowls · 2 years ago

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The plot from THERE is actually pretty Normal for a contemporary romance where everyone screws everyone (heroine takes the hero as a +1 to a wedding and she decides she is hoping either she OR her +1 can bang the groomsman), it's just the details that are tacked on that make it bonkers.

I actually found out about this book on a "worst book you ever FINISHED" thread on SA. If this wasn't the author's first published book, it was maybe their second, and they were obviously young enough to have still OBSESSED with yaoi manga and Final Fantasy and weeb stuff in general while the plot is set in England. I think we ALL wrote a story like that at about the same age (I know I did), I just managed to never publish it so people can't hold it against me now even though it's been out of print for years.

I think it's almost impossible to spoil a book like this (I can't remember some of the granular details anyway as I think I read it last in 2016 or so), but it has everything. Bonkers sex involving multiple people (sometimes multiple people and a realdoll), using non-lube items as lube, people trying to trick other people into threesomes like they're the fae, discussions about the annoyances of importing yaoi manga into England in the early 2000s.

If you bought it assuming it was a very normal contemporary erotica (even a fossilized one from the 2000s), I think you would probably eat the book in pure rage. But coming into it from a, "You HAVE to read this shit, this is ridiculous," I think it's a lot of fun if you have a limit to how much secondhand embarrassment you can feel.

I discovered while looking up the NEW book that some of her other older books have been heavily expanded and edited and are available for purchase, but this one isn't.

Is it an issue of who holds the rights, or knowing that no amount of revisions will improve what has happened here?

#cannot stress enough that this is one of the genuinely bad books i have read that I ENJOYED #it's incredibly stupid and embarrassing and I get a huge kick out of reading it #stop b think of the children #but it IS like $15 to get another copy so I don't know if I can stomach that anytime soon

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duhragonball · 1 year ago

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Nanwum VII Update: 72,197

I'm starting to run out of gas, which is probably not a big deal since I already cleared 50k, but this bears out my whole strategy of building an early lead. My intention was to pull down 2k per day from the 13th to the end of the month, and I'm still on track, but on the 14th I fell a little behind and only got to 1709. It's not a problem, since I got caught up, but I need to be careful from here if I want to make it to 100k. Not that I need 100k, but I like bragging rights.

To reward myself for the insane wordcounts I put in earlier this month, I decided to watch all of the recent DBZ review videos that TotallyNotMark put up. You know, the ones with the new Team Four Star DBZA clips in them. I'd already watched the "Buu Bits" in a separate compilation video, but now I'm finally checking out the review and...

I don't know, there's a lot of good material in these things. The editing is top notch, and you could play these videos with the sound off and still enjoy it just as an hours-long DBZ highlight reel. And Mark has a lot of salient insights on the series. I particularly liked his analysis of Gohan and Videl's dynamic, and it's also refreshing to see a DBZ fan who, you know, actually likes the show. Like, he's gushing over Vegeta's character arc, or talking about how great the androids and Cell are without a bunch of qualifiers, and it's just refreshing to see that.

That having been said, the writing for these videos often ends up sounding like this:

Like, arguably, you can't do a six-hour review of a cartoon show without being a little pretentious, but there's sentences in these videos where it feels like YouTube is paying Mark by the word.

Also, he tends to make these off-the-cuff style remarks, like he's discussing creative decisions about making the video in the video. I get that too. I write my blog with that same stream-of-consciousness energy, because I really am making this up as I go. It's a blog, there's not gonna be a second draft. But he's doing a YouTube video, and there's a lot of production values involved and the work is pretty polished. I don't think it makes a lot of sense for him to talk about how the sausage is made. Just give me the sausage, which is footage of the cartoon with a guy telling me what he liked about it.

I've sort of had this fascination with the writing style throughout the series, and I think if I had to spoof it, I'd go with something like this:

"Again, as I said before earlier in this video, when I started this review, I wanted to avoid sounding pretentious, an attribute the likes of which can be disastrous for the making of a successful review. But, having established that fact firmly and decisviely, perhaps even conclusively--not withstanding earlier comments made about the length of Piccolo's cape, which is a subject for another day-- I can say with great certainty that Goku and Vegeta do indeed comprise a dramaturgical dyad, not only upon which the series depends upon, but through which we can see the true genius of one of the most influential manga authors of all time."

And while you hear this word salad, there's a cool shot of Vegeta beating up Pui Pui or something.

The weird thing is that I didn't really pick up on this in his GT, Super, or OG Dragon Ball review videos. It's almost like he's purposely writing more stuff so he has room for all the cool footage.

Right now I'm in the tail end of the Buu Saga, and while I give him credit for being diplomatic about it, Mark still falls into the same trap I see with a lot of critiques of the Buu Saga: They keep comparing the existing text with some hypothetical better story that they assumed Toriyama was planning to write instead, before he changed his mind.

I think everyone has run across this before. People saw Gohan take the main-character role after the Cell Games and assumed this was a guarantee. When Gohan gets demoted and Goku takes the lead again, they cry foul and complain about how Toriyama failed to make it work, or he just plain gave up. There's an old fan rumor about how he was "forced" to put Goku back in charge because of backlash from angry fans, but this is absurd on its face.

This leads to critiques of the Buu Saga that operate on the premise that there's some idealized "correct" version of the story, where Gohan trains really hard, beats Buu all by himself, and so on. Whenever the published version of the story deviates from this "correct" version, critics suggest that Toriyama got his wires crossed, and blame everything on the awkward pivot back to Goku.

To me, that doesn't make sense. "Gohan and the Next Generation defeat Buu" is a what-if fan theory. Maybe it's better than what we ended up getting, but it's not fair to review the published work by comparing it to a hypothetical draft that may never have existed. That's like if a food critic gave a steakhouse a bad rating because he thought it was a pizzeria and he's still mad that his sirloin didn't have anchovies on it.

When you look at the Buu Saga as it was actually presented, the throughline is clearly not about passing the torch to the kids, because they all get jobbed out and killed. So it's dumb to review the thing and complain that the Gotenks stuff is pointless, and Gohan's power up is unearned, and his loss to Super Buu really sucks the life out of the story, and gosh, this is a really terrible passing-the-torch story. Well that's because it's not a passing-the-torch story. It's a story about Goku trying to pass the torch, failing, and discovering that he still has a place in the world after all. The "torch" he was trying to pass was his identity and personal responsibility, things he can't just confer on someone else.

You can't just tell someone else they're the new protagonist of your story and now they have to go do your job and feed your pets while you play video games. Everyone talks about Vegeta going Majin as a manifestation of his mid-life crisis, but Goku's mid-life crisis was him dying at age 30 and nope-ing his way out of life to train in Valhalla for the rest of eternity. The Buu Saga forced him to accept that this was a mistake, which is why he doesn't just drink a vial full of heart-virus juice after the story ends. He's back in the world of the living and this time he knows he needs to stay there.

And when you look at it from that perspective, suddenly all the Gotenks/Elder Kai Ritual stuff makes a lot more sense as awkward farce. It's anticlimactic and unsatisfying because none of those plans were ever going to work. Nothing worked until Goku and Vegeta both got their heads out of their asses and worked together. The world didn't need martyrs or torch-passings or a 'next generation', it needed adults to put their personal feelings aside for the greater good.

#nanwum vii #i should probably expand these buu saga thoughts into a standalone post #oh well

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jargonautical · 1 year ago

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Saints and scans

THE BOARDROOM HAS been laid out exactly as instructed, even down to the refreshments tray waiting on the polished sideboard - the ‘distinguished guest’ edition that only comes out when they want to make sure somebody feels special. Given that today’s only external visitor is a local shopkeeper, that raised some eyebrows. Tall silver urns reflect their passing as they enter, hand-written labels on crisp white card proclaiming their contents. Actual porcelain cups and saucers are laid out enticingly in a neat line, a small box in polished dark wood propped open to display a tempting array of herbal and fruit teas, and as a finishing touch a plate of fresh shortbread waits at the very end.

Mainder wastes no time heading for the urn marked Coffee, even before Raj thinks to tell him to help himself, pouring himself a small sample and passing it under his nose as if assessing the quality of the blend. It seems to pass inspection. The corners of his eyes crinkle in a sudden smile, and he fills his cup all the way and retreats to the bay window overlooking the back lawn.

It used to be a lawn, anyway. What it is now - well it’s a tragedy, is the only possible word. The once impeccable green, centuries-old turf expertly kept, is now a crisscrossed mess of shallow pits and muddy paths worn between them, red clay tracked all about and over the brick terrace off the kitchen. The curate’s charming little pond was filled in long ago by a resident with an eye to the safety of his young family, but even with the deep water gone it remains an unappealing prospect, a waterlogged dip in the ground overshadowed by the twin pillars of the marker trees. The pooled dark between the trees reassures him, at least; somehow it appears they’ve managed not to disturb anything. Not yet anyway.

Once this was the curate’s dining room, its former function echoed now by the long oval table in polished wood, its glossy finish a dark mirror reflecting the contents of the room. That includes the nervous fidgets of the smart young man from reception, loitering near the door and casting anxious glances between the clock and Mainder himself as if expecting trouble.

He can’t bring himself to care, to be honest. So much for a ten-fifteen prompt start, but he knows a power play when he sees one. His own lateness was half laziness, half mischief, but if he’d stirred himself to arrive precisely at the designated time he doesn’t doubt the director would have been unavoidably busy until fifteen minutes after that. For coffee this excellent he’s prepared to sit still and be patient, anyway.

In the end there’s time to despatch that first cup and begin another before the door finally opens and Patterson enters.

‘So sorry to keep you waiting.’ he lies briskly, taking up position at the head of the table. Behind him follows a bland young woman wearing a scarlet blouse that clashes horribly with the shapeless floral cardigan hanging from her shoulders. Secretary, Mainder assumes, judging by the bundle of folders clutched to her thin chest. After her, a steady stream of people of all genders, all in jeans and t-shirts and hooded sweatshirts, all early twenties at the absolute most. All self-consciously checking their shoes and trouser legs for mud as if it’s only just occurred to them that they might accidentally track their working dirt across the plush carpet.

The last man in closes the door and takes his seat, and Patterson places both hands palm-flat on the table before he claims their attention with a practiced lecturer’s ‘ahem’.

‘Welcome, Mr Mainder. Ah, I believe we spoke briefly at the conference? The board were very intrigued by your insight - a little local expertise, so to speak. I wonder if perhaps we could deal with the formalities before we discuss the details.’

A folder appears at Mainder’s elbow while he’s still mulling over the implied sneer in that ‘so to speak’. He decides he won’t rise to it; he’s feeling generous today. He pats his pockets absently, reaching inside the front of his coat on one side and then the other until he finds a pair of delicate metal-rimmed glasses which he settles fussily on his face to examine the documents.

There’s not much to examine; two copies of the same thing, a non-disclosure agreement printed double-spaced on every other line and still only covering three sides of A4. Purely for the hell of it, not that he intends for a moment to abide by anything it contains, he takes his sweet time reading both copies, occasionally laying them down again to drink more coffee or flicking back to refer to a previous page, eventually laying them both side by side and comparing them line by line to make sure they’re identical.

They are. What’s more this is no generic template; his name is typed in the same font as the rest, several standard clauses are missing, and some new and very specific sections have been added to cover ‘artefacts, spoil, etc. …’ that he is under no circumstances to examine without a team member present, and even more stringently he is not to take away or remove any such items from the site. Presumably Vernon has hinted at treasure under the lawn, academic if not monetary, but how exactly do they imagine they’d stop him if that’s so?

His attention is momentarily caught by the secretary. She’s not actually doing anything, which is the strange thing; just staring down at her hands resting in her lap. A pensive Madonna, her pose suggests, humbly waiting to be glorified. It’s strangely calming, the way she sits at perfect rest. He can almost see it spreading out in gentle waves and subduing uneasy fidgets around the room. He warms to her even as he forgets her existence again. That ought to be enough time to … yes, there it is; the unmistakable rhythm of someone tapping their foot under the table. He neatly shuffles both documents into their separate piles and looks up.

‘I don’t suppose you have a pen?’

Patterson almost launches his own across the table in his haste, and Mainder reviews the cheap disposable biro for a frozen moment. It could be worse - at least the end hasn’t been chewed - but it could also most certainly be better. He puts it aside and searches his pockets again.

The fountain pen he at last produces puts Patterson’s offering to shame, as he very much intended. Capped in old gold, its bullet-shaped body in midnight blue lacquer, once upon a time it would have been the only conceivable choice for the serious man of business. He developed a strong preference for the style as soon as he was in a position to try it out and hasn’t found a good reason to change it since. He uncaps it and rests the hooded nib on the edge of the folder, teasing out the ink flow and testing it with three short strokes. The ink gleams on the thin cardboard, deep forest green, and he pulls the paperwork back over and signs both documents with an unreadable flourish. Too much to hope these people would have blotting paper to hand, if they even know what that is any more, so he holds the papers in his hand and waves them gently until he’s satisfied the ink has dried.

There’s a marked change in the atmosphere when he lays the papers back down, as though the room collectively had held its breath and is just now letting it out.

‘All done. What’s next?’

The secretary rises and passes him another thin stack of paper, shrinking away when his fingers accidentally make contact with hers, and takes her seat. She’s forced to stand up again instantly by someone on the wrong side of the room realising that he’s supposed to be setting up the display screen, and an awkward few seconds follow of people getting up, pushing in their chairs and pressing up against the table to allow him to pass before sitting back down, like a painfully polite slow-motion Mexican wave.

‘Thank you, Viktor - ah, does anyone have the controls? Ah yes, here we are. Now -’

The screen lights up with what looks very much like the same slide deck as Patterson presented at the conference. Mainder feels entirely justified in ignoring him after the first few seconds; if the man is going to narrate every single bullet point he might as well just read it himself. Especially since the first thing in the folder is a full-size print out of the exact same slides. ‘The Fairy Hill: a centre of late Bronze Age worship and commerce’, the title of the presentation proclaims, and Patterson’s monotone retelling adds nothing of value. He lets it wash over him while he reviews diagrams, photographs and blueprints, reading every detailed note. Everything he needs to know is right here.

‘… unexpected results as you can see, but I believe we’ve exhausted that area now. In phase two we’ll be investigating what appear to be significant structures under the lawn here, spreading east and extending under one corner of the current building. Possibly an earlier dwelling, cellars or foundations belonging to the current building, or earthworks relating to civil war defences.’

All solid theories. All very feasible. All of them completely and utterly wrong, which is his favourite thing about them. If you know what you’re looking for the scans clearly shadow the structures beneath, but since they don’t appear to know what they were looking for … well, this must have caused significant confusion. He almost smiles - unexpected results, indeed - and turns over the sheet to check the back.

The urge to smile drains away and he tenses, fingers pinching a crease in the edge of the thin paper. This page shows an image so clear that for a moment he’s almost convinced they’re simply playing dumb. There’s no way they can’t see what they’re looking at - the Fold’s ancient chambers, right down to the slight narrowing where one spiral arm was damaged in the Closing. He can still recall as clearly as if it were yesterday how it felt; the pain in the moment, the loss, and the dreadful aftermath as they pieced events together and discovered exactly what had been done to them all.

Chill fury rises in him like bile. Sweyn is still trapped down there somewhere - not that there’ll be anything left of the poor little sod by now, but still. If by some miracle they do get anywhere near that section, it’s on him to see if he can retrieve anything.

‘Ah, does our guest have an opinion?’

Patterson has to repeat that last before Mainder raises shadowed eyes to sweep the room. A muscle jumps in his cheek, but all he says in a quiet, flat tone is, ‘What’s your favoured option at this point?’, a neat deflection to disguise the fact that he really wasn’t paying attention.

Patterson seems delighted with the question though, gesturing eagerly at the presenter to rewind the slides back to the image of the lawn scan marked up with arrows and boxes.

‘We thought - could I have the pointer again please? Thank you - we thought here.’, and he indicates a dark blob on the far top left of the marked areas. “It looks very promising, wouldn’t you say?”.

‘As good a place as any, yes.’

His lukewarm approval sparks a burst of activity, half the table pushing back their chairs and leaving the room, the other half talking past each other in a rising babble.

For his part he keeps his eyes down, the table’s polished surface a convenient mirror for him to observe the room. There’s more to this dynamic than meets the eye. There has to be. His dark eyes flick from person to person, evaluating. Patterson - already dictating a detailed to-do list to Raj. The unlucky volunteer on tech support duty - powering down the display and extracting a storage drive with a pained grunt from the awkward socket hidden somewhere on the back. Youngsters gathering in the hallway outside waiting for the last stragglers, self-consciously sweeping the chairs clean of the traces of mud they’ve brought in with them. The secretary, still seated and leaning forward on her elbows …

… watching him. Using the table exactly as he is, the angle of reflection letting her observe him indirectly, with her colourless brows pinched together in faint concern. She holds his gaze for just a split second then rises without a word and is instantly lost in the crowded corridor.

Damn it. He didn’t actually get a decent look at her, not for all his staring. There was nothing of her to hold on to, is the problem, easily the least interesting person - visually speaking - in the room. All he can recall is mousy hair, nondescript features - and the terrible fashion sense, of course. If she discarded that awful cardigan somewhere he’d likely walk past her without a second glance. Intrigued, he rises to follow and nearly collides with Patterson stepping into his path.

‘So pleased to have you on board, Mr Mainder. Ah, can I interest you in a little guided tour?’

#a chapter at a time #fantasy #fiction #somewhere to be #books #booklr #reading #faerie #storygraph #goodreads

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theageoftheunderstatement · 3 years ago

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Big Issue Exclusive: 7 things we learned from Alex Turner about new Arctic Monkeys album The Car

By Adrian Lobb, 29 Sep 2022

Arctic Monkeys release their hotly-anticipated seventh LP The Car on October 21. Expectations are high. This is an album people have been waiting four years to hear.

Ever since Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino, their lush, mellow, sci-fi concept album that was such a departure from its barnstorming predecessor AM became the band’s sixth consecutive number one album in 2018, fans have been speculating about the follow up. Six number ones in a row. That’s some record. Thankfully, so is The Car.

Arctic Monkeys invited the Big Issue and our star guest, Line of Duty actor Martin Compston, to join them on the road in Budapest for a global exclusive interview to announce that The Car was arriving soon.

We got a close-up view of the band and were able to assess the state of the nation’s finest band. As tickets go on sale for next year’s huge stadium tour, here’s everything we learned – about the new songs on The Car, about who and what inspired Alex Turner’s songwriting this time around, and about where Arctic Monkeys are heading as a band.

1. The Car is Arctic Monkeys’ most cinematic sounding record yet

That’s the verdict of everyone who has heard the album so far (including the Big Issue), according to Turner.

He told us: “It’s a response I’ve had to other things we’ve composed, this idea of something sounding ‘cinematic’ – I never completely subscribe to it – but it’s louder this time. In the early responses from people.

“You get all these ideas people have that there should be some kind of visual reflection for that reason. I don’t necessarily agree – it’s still just a record to me. But if it evokes these kinds of things that make you think…”

When our interview was originally published, many picked up on Turner saying: ‘It’s louder this time’ and assumed it was a reference to the music on the record. Not so. Turner was talking about the voices of people saying the music is cinematic. The melancholy, downbeat, orchestral arrangement on There’d Better Be a Mirrorball – the first track released – is reflected across the whole LP.

2. Alex Turner has been reading about film production and editing

Turner has long been a cinephile and talked in our interview about potentially directing a film one day. He’s also been more involved than ever in the videos for this new LP.

But, he told us, his burgeoning interest in editing, in finding a path through recorded material to produce the final piece of work, filters into the lyrics as well as the music.

“Are there images in my head when I write? Absolutely. And in the past, I’ve been able to point out exactly what they are more easily,” he said.

“But I’m so practised in doing it that for this record, I know what I was watching and listening to or reading but I can’t draw a line quite so easily to what exactly that became in the record.

“Maybe I’ve drawn too much of a direct line to things in the past so I’m more reluctant to do so. But it’s hard to watch or read anything and keep it separate from what you’re creating. For instance, I was reading a book called In the Blink of an Eye by a film editor called Walter Murch.

“He was the editor on Apocalypse Now and a bunch of other cool stuff. It’s a short book about editing. But the ways he puts it across there goes way beyond that. There’s a bunch of interesting ideas that he’s speaking about. And that feels connected to the process and also the feel or lyrics on this new record.”

3. Turner kept coming back to film production as an inspiration

Perhaps it is because he was discussing his art with actor Martin Compston, but Turner mentioned this a lot.

“Butley Priory was more like the shoot and then the other stuff in France was like the edit. The way Walter Murch describes the edit in this book – he talks about meeting some friends of his wife and one of them says: ‘So you’re the guy who cuts out all the bad bits, then?’. Initially he is offended, but after all these years, he came around to thinking: ‘Well, yeah, that is actually what I’m doing’. But the question is what constitutes a bad bit…

“There’s a great bit where he’s talking about the discovery of a path through all this material that you have, and how there’s a million different ways to get through it. That feels more like the way this record was put together, perhaps. More than other records I’ve done in the past.

“I feel like the word producer means a different thing in music to what it does in a film. Some of my favourite records are by David Axelrod. He did a lot of theme music and stuff. He’s a record producer, but the terminology really ought to be perhaps director.

4. One key song didn’t make the final cut of The Car

Turner talked at length about editing the LP, piecing the tracks together, creating the sound. And he also explained how the songs on The Car were created more in the edit than on previous LPs.

“Sometimes a line will end up finding its way into another song. Things move around a lot more freely than they did in the beginning,” he said.

“For this record, there’s a song that didn’t make it which I feel is really important. It was supposed to be there all along. And it’s not in the end. Not to keep going back to the book, but one more time – I’ll fill the Walter Murch quota! – Murch talks about how on Apocalypse Now there’s the splice they would do to put the film together. But for every splice there’s 15 or 20 what he called “shadow splices”, where you make the cut but then undo it the next day. I like his idea that they’re all still sort of there. It has a knock-on effect. We undo it and then there is a new path through it.”

Look out for The Car’s missing song on the next LP, at a future live show, or on an expanded edition of the LP one day soon.

5. Alex Turner has been feeling nostalgic for the early days as the band begins its third decade of playing together

We asked whether it felt like 20 years since they began rehearsing in a garage in Sheffield – and Turner revealed that the lyrics on new track Hello You are directly about his teenage years.

“It probably does feel about 20 years ago. But that’s an interesting one, isn’t it? Because sometimes you feel like you could walk through a door and be right back there. I’m trying to scratch a little bit of that feeling we are describing here on the new record. It feels like a long time ago, but it can be right behind you. Something reminds you and it takes you back.

“There’s a lyric on Hello You that says: ‘I could pass for 17 if I just get a shave and catch some zzzs.’ Maybe that’s barking up that tree a little. Well, a lot. I’m thinking about going to the snooker club with my granddad and it feels like we were just there. But, wait a minute, there’s all this time in between.

6. Turner is aware of the hopes and expectations of fans for the new album – but the band are ploughing their own furrow

“If the idea was to do something that met these expectations, hypothetically, it’s hard for me to even know what that would be,” he says. “You have to follow your instincts in the same way you did in that first place. In that way, it does all feel like it’s connected to us 20 years ago in the garage when it was pure instinct.

“It’s certainly not coming from us trying to be contrary. If anything, I was more contrary then. You have this idea, I suppose, of what that expectation is. But it’s more you follow your instinct. I think that’s always been the case on every record, really.

“It’s about everything having its own space and not all shouting at once. There is room to use all the things from the factory. And there are times I’ve used the wrong tool for the job, probably. But you learn from that. This time, we’ve kept more of an eye on the performance.”

7. Turner can draw a line from his recordings with The Last Shadow Puppets to The Car

“On the [Last Shadow] Puppets all the score, all the orchestra stuff was composed by this guy named Owen Pallett,” he told us. “We will make points on it but that is his part of that project.

“But there are strings on the Monkeys records and those I was involved in the composition of, with the producer James Ford and Bridget Samuels, who’s a string arranger. James and I came up with the melodies. You can write it on the piano and hear the melodies in your head the same way I would hear a vocal melody. Sometimes that’s how you’ll write a keyboard or a guitar line. But there’s definitely a dimension that you get from real strings playing together that can’t be emulated with anything else. Which is magic.

“I think we’ve got closer to a better version of a more dynamic overall sound with this record. The strings on this record come in and out of focus and that was a deliberate move and hopefully everything has its own space. There’s times the band come to the front and then the strings comes to the front.”

…And Arctic Monkeys are still enjoying playing the old stuff

The new songs might be cinematic and orchestral and melancholy, but watching them play from the side of the stage, there was no doubting the love they retain for the early songs, that blistering energy and big noise.

“We’ve been playing View From the Afternoon a bit in these last few shows. And when I’m doing that it feels like it would take more than a shave and a sleep to be 17!” says Turner.

“I keep looking back over my shoulder at [drummer Matt Helders]. ‘You still there, pal?’ Nah, he’s fine. I’m the one who is huffing and puffing. He seems all right. I feel like we’re building it and the sets have those more explosive sections and then he gets to lean back and just be on two and four for a bit while I swan around!

“So everything gets unwound for a minute and then we wind it back up. In those days, I remember the way I used to wear my guitar was really high. Everything was just tight. Trackie top on and everything was zipped up. Now I think, loosen the guitar. Take the guitar off, even. Take a minute. Everybody relax.”

And on the ever-evolving setlist, which now features track two from The Car, I Ain’t Quite Where I Think I Am? Fans buying tickets for next year’s tour will likely see songs from across the full 20 year recording career.

Here’s Alex Turner’s response to Martin Compston suggesting their squad of songs is now like Manchester City’s squad of footballers, with two equally strong, world-class line-ups available.

“It’s quite mysterious, to me, the setlist and what the order of that should be,” he says. “This time has passed and certain things don’t feel the way you expected them to anymore.

“That sounds sad, but it’s not. Certain songs represented certain moments in the past and now feel like something else, so they should be somewhere else.

“I’m still working it out. It’s exciting to perform again but we are still shuffling the deck on the setlist. The old ones – some are better at evolving than others. Some get left behind. You try and reintroduce them but some are more adaptable or fit into where you’re trying to go.

“So it doesn’t feel like Manchester City… but hopefully it will.”

#interview #arctic monkeys #alex turner #am7 #the car era #big issue 2022 #some of the things mentioned here were from the interview published in august but there's still so much new information to process

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snifflesthemouse · 4 years ago

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Harry’s the Problem. His wife is the symptom. He is the real Diana 2.0 Wannabe...

Since the Oprah interview aired, my whole perspective regarding the spare and his spouse has shifted. It would seem that I’m not alone in my thought process as more and more media outlets start reporting similar stances. Just recently, there was an article suggesting Harry didn’t change; but rather, he is only finally revealing his true self. The more I think about it all, the more I’ve come to the realization #6 is the real culprit behind everything.

I’m not saying that his wife doesn’t have her own agenda or shares responsibility for her part in all this. Her hands are far from clean. What I am saying is it’s finally time for all of us to consider the cold, hard truth. Harry is his mother’s child. Harry is the bad egg, and his wife is only a side effect of the real problem here.

Had it not been for the Oprah interview, I would have never put it all together. The problem with oversharing is too much information gets put out in the public. Most assume PR firms would worry about oversaturation in the press, but the real problem comes from personal interviews they cannot control in real-time. Puff pieces can be edited before publishing so facts and statements align; live interviews cannot. Over time, one of two patterns form from this oversaturation. Consistencies, repetitions, and similarities can be found in oversaturated truth-telling. Inconsistencies, changes, and huge differences result from those like Harry who prefer their trousers scorching hot from bursting into flames from deception. When you consistently lie, the only constant is the inconsistencies.

Now, those of us who have been following these two already know by now inconsistencies and changing stories should be expected. But the Oprah interview really highlighted some interesting things I had previously missed. The interview with Dax Shephard only solidifies my theories. Up until lately, those two have been together through most everything. Very seldom have we seen Harry alone in an interview or speech. There’s never a time where the missus isn’t popping up. James Corden proved that. Then we have the Oprah interview where she was supposed to be the star of the show. But, that was the moment it all changed. That interview was the moment she became the understudy.

Think about it. Who is the one being used in the media lately? Most people would suggest that the impending delivery of child number dos is why the missus is absent. One would then argue the Apple + special with Oprah started production well before the second child was a topic for discussion. The missus is being used less and less on camera or in the media. Everything is all about Harry. Forget about when Harry met Sally; Harry Met Hollywood!

Harry is the one doing the interviews, dropping projects, and talking with big Hollywood names. Even their announced Netflix projects are focused on one of Harry’s pre-married concepts. All the wife has going for her is a book that’s only number one in the “Books written by ex-Royals who couldn’t hack it” category. Seriously though, as of this posting the Bench is #2130 on the Amazon Books list, #12 in Children’s Black and African American Story Books, #73 in Children’s Emotions Books, and #167 in Children’s Family Life Books. Being pregnant isn’t a disqualifier for being interviewed. But, apparently being just the wife is.

So, if it was his wife’s plan from the beginning to marry Harry, get him to abandon his family, move to California, and become a big star with a Prince for a husband, her plans have been ruined. And if you think about what she said in the interview with Oprah, you can actually see the moments she told us all exactly that. She clearly tells Oprah Harry was her direct link and source to the Royal Family and everything she needed to know. She didn’t misspeak or misunderstand a thing; she was telling us that Harry’s next to be markled. In every weird answer or revelation where she gave her versions for why their child(ren) were without title, saying they wed three days before the chapel, or having to cry out to HR since Harry failed to help her while she was so depressed she wanted to kill herself and her unborn child... all of it. It was all just the beginning. It may seem like she is attacking her husband’s family, but Harry’s the real target now.

In just a couple sentences, she managed to reveal who Harry really was. Harry, of all people, should (and does) know how to navigate the press. Clearly, he failed to not only help her acclimate to Royal life, but it could also even be argued he set her up for failure for the get go. Let me give you an example. When my husband introduced me to his family for the first time, he told me little tidbits of information he found important for me to know. He essentially prepped me for the meeting so things went well. He wanted his family to like me because he loved me. I wanted them to like me because I loved him, too. So, I took to heart everything he told me. Yet, Harry’s wife shared with the world how little Harry cared about that. She credits Fergie with teaching her to curtsey, google for teaching her the National Anthem, and even said Her Majesty made her feel especially welcomed. So how did Harry not do more? If they started seeing one another in the early Summer of 2016, how is it Harry failed to teach or explain anything to her prior to meeting his grandmother, the Queen, when he had months and months of time to do so? How is it he failed his wife so miserably, she didn’t even understand basic UK custom, laws, or protocols? Why might you ask?

Simply put, Harry is so much like his mother, all he knows is how to play the victim narrative while using the link to the Royal family as a nonstop ATM machine. Many people aren’t honest with themselves when it comes to Diana. She wasn’t the Mother Theresa everyone makes her out to be. Mother Theresa wasn’t a Mother Theresa either, though. Did Diana do some great things? Absolutely. Did she do them only because they were nice or great? Absolutely… not. Diana’s PR team would even have her switch up her charity causes whenever they felt it was getting to martyrdom level. They’d refer to her PR stunts as flavors. Does that sound like an innocent woman?

Not to me. This whole time we all have seen his wife as the root of all issues, but she’s the side effect. It’s becoming more clear by the day that Harry searched out her. He wanted someone with the basic Hollywood connections that he could capitalize. Someone that seemed so controlling and ambitious it would be easy to believe they were controlling him, too. Of course he knew she would invite all the celebs she did. He probably inspired that guest list. Instead of guiding her in the press and in British society, he leads her to slaughter. He hides behind her repeated gaffes and wokeness to keep on his own mission.

You see, Harry is obsessed with his brother eventually becoming king, being the “Second Son of Diana” and being the misfit. He is obsessed with his brother and father. They are all he talks about. When you obsess on something like that, it is more revealing than anything you say. Harry’s true motives aren’t protecting his wife and children. His real motive is making a name for himself like his mother did. If he can manage to get some revenge by making the Firm feel some backlash, hey that’s a bonus.

While his wife may think in her mind she will be the next Diana 2.0, the truth is we all missed who really will be. Harry is the one wanting to be Diana 2.0. If that’s the case, then that means the much older spouse for whom there are two children with, aka the wife, would be his Charles. Remember, Diana lost her HRH and titles. And we have Harry being very aggressive and pushy, to the point it seems he is trying to get ahead of a Palace announcement of them losing their titles. But it makes sense now.

They aren’t trying to lose anything, but instead Harry keeps opening his mouth to create pressure in the media. He knows his wife does not want to give those titles back. But if he himself keeps saying outrageous things, then it would put everyone in ultimatum mode. Either Harry will push hard enough that Parliament and the Queen will have enough, or the press will get so critical of the two, Harry will push his wife to agree to returning the titles.

Harry is following the Diana business model. While in the Royal Family, they both were seen as rock stars who had more star power the the Sovereign, which was an issue. Then, they couldn’t take all the abuse, coldness, and inhumanity, so they bolted for freedom. Instead of putting the past behind them, they use the past to monetize grief and trauma in such a way, they become their own brand. Right now, the trauma being monetized comes from the past, but the problem will soon come when that trauma is tapped out. He will need a source of new pain or victimhood. Enters the wife stage left.

The wife is a tool. She of course has her own plans and thinks she is the one in control or the genius. She thinks she is the one everyone wants to work with. But it’s becoming clear to her that isn’t the case and she’s been played by her elite buddies. They all want him, not her. They all duped her for him. If I can see it, and I can see her already finger pointing that Harry is the failure here, then she can see it. And that means paradise will soon be lost in those Montecito hills. His wife won’t go down without a serious fight here. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she eventually causes him to lose his special visa.

Overall, Harry hides behind his wife like a beard or shield protecting him from the press’s glaring lens. He lets her do and say whatever she thinks is great so he can keep plotting his own plans. He allows her to take the fall, look stupid, pull stunts people can see through, etc. for a reason. He isn’t completely sure he can make it in his new California life. He knows he can’t if he keeps her for too long, but he also knows he needs an exit strategy in case it blows up. So, he pins the press to attack her as the true culprit. If they split and he has to, he can return home and play the victim of her. If they split and he is doing okay in Hollywood, she can be the reason he plays victim to big named people like Oprah and Gayle.

I can see it now. An Oprah Special with Harry tonight on Apple +. Something cheesy or corny that is almost plagiarism. Like Narcissus and the Prince or something. Watch. Mark my words. Oprah talking to Harry about surviving the marriage while trying to rescue two small kids, being in the spotlight as a Royal while being gaslit by a narcissistic wife… yes I can see the green screen set up now.

I know this is difficult to digest, but I do ask you to try. While his wife is not innocent, she clearly is guilty for her own part indeed, his wife isn’t the true problem. The true problem here is a man who has a serious issue with living in the shadow of his future-King father and future-King brother, and his future-King nephew, that he has chosen to use the same exact attack model his own mother used to merch and marginally disrupt the institution that made her a star. Harry and his mother both wanted the entire spotlight, but both knew they could never have it the way they wanted it. So, they wrote their own victimhood narrative.

And here we are now. Mark my words. Harry will keep pushing until those remaining titles are removed by them forcing the hands of Parliament and the Queen. Or, they’ll push and push in the press so much the outrage and hypocrisy will leave them no other option but to renounce and re-gift those titles and rights to the line of succession. That is what he wants, even if his missus doesn’t. Also make no mistake about it. Harry is the real Diana 2.0 wannabe, not his wife. Keep an eye out. I have this gnawing feeling that soon enough, there will be plenty leaks from the wife about the husband. She won’t go quietly into the Beverly Hills… but neither will he.

#megxit #6 #harryswife #yankeewally #murky meg #diana2.0

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electricbarnes · 4 years ago

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tell me you still see me

steve rogers x reader

summary: steve has been working a lot lately. you begin to have doubts about your relationship.

↳ songs i listened to for inspiration

wc: 5.9k | warnings: some angst, overthinking, self-doubt, implied smut

note: this is a repost from my old account that was deleted. so if it’s familiar, that’s why! i wasn’t planning on reposting but i read it over and decided why not. i have another steve fic that i’m almost done with, so i wanted to post this in the meantime. i made a few minor edits. i hope you like it! and if you decide to reread it, thank you x1000 !!

You arrive at your apartment, hands filled with groceries for the week. You struggle to open the door with the many bags on your arms, but eventually make it inside. You kick off your heels and set the bags down on the kitchen counter. After freeing your hands, you reach into your purse to find your phone. You unlock it and tap on the first name at the top of your recent calls.

The phone rings for a bit before you hear the sound of your boyfriend’s voice saying “Hello”.

“Oh my god Steve, you’re never gonna believe what I saw at the store just now,” you say, thinking of the wild thing you witnessed during your shopping trip. It’s not everyday that you see someone throw themselves into a cereal box display. It was a hilarious sight and you just wanted to tell someone about it.

“So, I was just strolling through the isles looking for some snacks when a-” you’re cut off before getting too into the story.

“Honey, can this wait? I’m about to go into a mission briefing,” Steve says in a hushed tone. Immediately, you feel guilty for interrupting him while he’s busy. It was well into the evening and you had assumed he wouldn’t be working.

“Oh, uh yeah of course! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” you apologize.

“That’s okay,” he reassures you, “I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, talk to you later then.”

The phone beeps, indicating the call was over. You sigh and go back to the task of putting your groceries away.

You decide to lounge around the rest of the day, trading your work clothes for some comfy sweats and a tee shirt. You spend the night mindlessly scrolling through social media while reruns of some sitcom play on the tv. You even send Steve a few memes here and there. You’re not really sure if he’ll understand them but they reminded you of him.

After eating a late dinner, you channel surf for a bit before putting on a random movie. When the movie finishes, it’s nearly 11pm and you realize that Steve hasn’t called you back. You pick up your phone, tempted to call him but decide it’s better to wait till tomorrow. He hasn’t replied to your texts, so there’s a chance he’s still busy despite the late hour.

Unfortunately for you, being a superhero is a full time job, which means that Steve can be busy at any moment of any day. You knew this going into a relationship with thee Captain America. To be fair though, you didn’t think you’d actually get to know the super soldier like you do now.

When you met Steve, he was just some handsome guy at the park who helped you with directions when you were visibly lost. You ended up seeing him at the park again a couple days later. Recognizing you, he stopped and asked if you wanted to get a coffee. Who were you to deny this man?

You spent two hours in a café getting to know each other before exchanging numbers. In hindsight, his vague answers about his career were a little suspicious. It wasn’t until you went home that night and saw a picture of Steve in a tweet captioned “idc that captain america is like 100 yrs old, he can still get it 😍”.

Needless to say, you were shocked. While you were feeling dumb for not recognizing him sooner, you also wondered why he didn’t say anything. After an awkward confrontation about the subject, he explained how he didn’t want you to go out with him just because he was Captain America. You were quick to ease his worries and reassure him that you were interested in Steve for Steve, not for his heroic persona.

Since then, your relationship with Steve has been nothing but amazing. He was always so sweet with you, taking you on simple but romantic dates. There was something about that 40s charm that was so endearing. You loved the small things, like how he would always open the door for you or how he would bring you flowers on each date. It was so easy to talk to him about anything and everything. You felt like he was not only your boyfriend, but also your best friend.

There were times where you wondered why he ever picked you, an average person compared to the super people he’d work with everyday. He could’ve had anyone he wanted. Steve would say that you were like his sanctuary from the hectic world of being an Avenger. It meant a lot to you that you could be that person for him. You thought he deserved some peace after everything he’s been through. He wanted to protect you from the evil that inherently came with the job, which you understood, so he rarely spoke about the missions he’d go on. The less you knew the better. Though sometimes, you would wish he’d open up more about what was going on while he was away. Especially since he would be gone for days on end.

It was only a month into your relationship that you realized how hard it’d be when he would leave to be Captain America. It was his first time leaving for a mission that lasted longer than a day. He had to spend a week in some place on the other side of the world with no way of contacting him. Of course, you were worried the entire time he was gone. Despite trying to distract yourself with work and personal tasks, Steve was always at the forefront of your mind.

You had never felt such relief than the day he called you after a whole week of silence. Steve had even asked you shyly if he could come over that night. You felt butterflies in your stomach when he told you that he needed to see you. It was the first time he had spent the night at your place. Having Steve’s arms wrapped around you the entire night just felt right. You knew as early as then that you loved him.

Over the year that you had been together, those long missions became easier to manage. You’d always trust that he’d come back to you in one piece. Steve would sometimes feel guilty about being away for so long that he’d try to make it up to you by taking you on an extraordinary date. But you always assured him that you were happy to just be with him, even if it was just something like the two of you watching a movie at your place.

Lately, Steve has been more distant with you. You’ve chalked it up to the fact that there’s a literal distance between you two since he’s moved upstate to the newly built Avengers compound. Before, he was just a short drive away from the Avengers tower to your apartment. Now, he’s hours away from you. There were discussions of you moving in with him, but your job was in the city and you couldn’t leave that behind.

You both decided to make the best of the situation, calling and texting whenever possible. FaceTiming was the usual occurrence throughout the week, often before bed. You’d tell him about your day in the office and he’d tell you about the new recruits he would train. On the weekends, he’d stay over at your place. It was rare that you’d stay at the compound. Steve said he’d preferred your apartment, claiming it was homier than the compound. Plus, you’d actually have some privacy.

For a long time, it had been a good system. You love Steve and did anything to make the relationship work because he’s worth it. Yet, you couldn’t help the lonely nights where you wondered if he felt the same.

Calls were less frequent. Texts were unanswered. Weekend plans were cancelled because Steve would be assigned to missions during those days. You’d understand, of course. He’s out there saving people! You can’t fault him for that, but it doesn’t stop you from missing him.

Now, it had been almost two weeks since you’d last seen him in person. You had texted him throughout the day, but texting wasn’t his favorite thing. Texts were usually reserved for quick check-ins and reminders of I love you’s. He preferred calling and you did too, hearing his voice was much better.

After learning that he had been back from a short mission, you texted him.

You: FaceTime later? ☺️

You were eager to see him, even if it was through a screen. You were just hoping he had the time.

Steve ♡: Sure.

Later that night, you sat on your bed with your laptop, opening up FaceTime. After a few rings, Steve’s face appears on the screen. A smile immediately breaks out on your face.

“Hi babe!” you say cheerily, finally getting to see your boyfriend after what felt like forever.

“Hi honey,” he says with a soft smile.

Your smile dims a bit, eyebrows furrowing when you recognize the background. “Are you still in your office?” It was pretty late and you assumed he’d be in bed by now.

“Yeah, I was finishing up on some mission reports,” he explains, shuffling some papers on his desk.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you’d be done by now,” you apologize, recalling the last time you had interrupted him from his work.

“No, no” he waves his hand, “I thought I’d be done by now too, but it’s a lot more than I expected.”

You frown at the thought of your boyfriend overworking himself. You want to ask him about it, but you know he’ll say what he always does when you ask about his missions: It’s classified.

“You’re not stressing yourself out too much, are you Steve?” you ask, concern evident in your voice. Even through the hazy quality of the webcam, you can see the tired look in his eyes.

“Never,” he says with a smirk.

“Somehow, I don’t believe you,” you say with a teasing tone.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about honey,” he reassures you. “Besides, I wanna know what you’ve been up to.”

You scoff, “well, it’s definitely not nearly exciting as your week must’ve been.”

“I still wanna know,” he says with that boyish grin you love.

Steve always knew how to make those butterflies appear. You end up telling him about the incident you witnessed at the store which makes him laugh as he imagines the odd sight. He tells you about a prank Tony pulled on him and Sam and you beg him to send you the recording of it. He refuses, but you know you’ll get your hands on the footage eventually. Things felt normal again, just talking to him.

“So I was mixing the dough and halfway through I realized I completely forgot about the eggs,” you were in the middle of telling him about the new recipe you ended up ruining earlier this week.

Steve hums in response. You notice him looking to the side, not looking at the screen and you hear the sound of typing.

“and then a blue monster broke into my apartment,” you make up in an attempt to get his attention.

“Mhmm”

“and he stole all the cookies,” you continue.

“Hmm”

“Steve,”

Silence.

“Steve,” you say with a little more force.

“Huh?” he finally looks up at the screen.

“You’re not listening to me,” disappointment laces your voice.

“I was,” he quickly defends but you don’t buy it.

“Uh huh,” you cross your arms and lean back against your headboard. “What was I talking about?”

Steve glances elsewhere, not meeting your eyes when he mumbles “something about a party?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “yeah, like 10 minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry honey, I was listening, really… but these reports need to be done,” he says with an apologetic look on his face.

You couldn’t stay mad at him, but you did feel hurt that he would pretend to listen rather than just telling you something.

“Okay,” you sigh. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

He must notice the disappointment on your face because he apologizes once more.

“I’ll make it up to you honey,” he promises.

“Are you coming this weekend?” you ask hopefully. He couldn’t come last weekend and you were missing him terribly.

“Of course,” he gives you a tired smile that you return.

“Okay, finish those reports and get some sleep,” you instruct, emphasizing the last part.

“Yes ma’am,” he raises his hand, mock saluting you which makes you giggle.

“Goodnight Stevie, I love you,”

“Love you too sweetheart”

The call ends and you go to bed with a smile on your face.

The rest of the week goes by quickly. You’re excited to get to the weekend because that means you can finally see your boyfriend, in person! Not just behind some screen. It’s been almost three weeks since the last time he came over and you miss his touch.

It was Friday afternoon and you were sitting at a small table in the cafe you frequent, taking a lunch break. Halfway through your break, you got a call from Steve. You were a little surprised to see his picture pop up on your phone since you’re usually the one to call him. Nevertheless, you smiled and answered “Hi babe.”

“Hey honey,” he greets.

“I’m glad you called, I was thinking of picking up a few things from the store after work today. Do you need anything?”

“Uh… about that,” he says in a low voice. Your heart immediately sinks, already knowing what he’s going to say next.

“You’re not coming.” A statement, not a question.

“I’m sorry honey. A mission came up and we leave tonight,” he explains and you almost want to laugh. Of course he’s leaving again.

“How long?” you ask. Maybe it’s just for a day and he can still come on Saturday or even Sunday.

“Two days… maybe three,”

You take a moment to process his words. Part of you saw this coming. It seemed too good to be true that you’d finally have him all to yourself. You glance up, trying to fight the sudden feeling of tears in your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in the middle of a busy café.

“There’s… there isn’t a chance you can skip this one?” you hesitantly ask. Normally, you’d just accept it, but your patience was running thin. This is the second time in a row he’s cancelled on you.

“You know I can’t. This is important,” he says it so sternly, like he doesn’t realize he’s breaking your heart. The missions are always important. More important than you.

“Yeah, but you’ve been working nonstop. I mean, don’t you want a break? Aren’t there others who can go instead?” you argue, voice raising.

“Y/N, I’m going. I have to,” he insists, leaving no room for an argument. You knew how stubborn Steve could be, so you knew he wasn’t going to change his mind on this. Rationally, you knew he probably had no choice in the matter but you took a chance anyways.

“Okay,” you relent.

You can hear Steve sigh before saying, “I’ll make it up to you.”

He’s been saying that a lot lately, but you know they’re empty promises.

“Okay.”

“I love you,” he says much softer than his previous tone.

“Love you too,” you say back, but your heart hurts.

Before you met Steve, sleeping alone wasn’t so bad. Some nights you would be on your phone, scrolling through social media till you eventually got sleepy. Other times, you’d lie in bed staring at the ceiling thinking about your day and mentally planning the next. Too often you found yourself overthinking about something you did, something you wish you could change. Or you would be anxious about something coming up, running through different scenarios of how it’d go. For some reason, your mind wouldn’t let you succumb to the sleep that your body desperately needed. But you were used to it.

Then Steve came along and he’d be there to ease your mind. On the nights he would stay over, sleep came much easier. There would still be nights where your mind kept you awake, but Steve would be lying right next to you. You’d be on his chest, his hand soothingly rubbing your back as you told him about that meeting you were nervous about or how you got in trouble by your boss for a simple mistake. Steve would assure that everything would be okay and you found it easy to believe him.

He always knew when you needed a distraction from your worries, bringing up mundane things like last night’s baseball game or telling you about the modern music he actually started to like. Sometimes, he’d tell you a story from his life in the 40s. Stories like how his friend Bucky would drag him all over town, trying to find a date for the evening. Or about that time he had to star in an action movie when he just started out as Captain America (which you made a mental note to find later on Youtube). You loved hearing about Steve’s old life, curious about what made him into the man you love today.

Sometimes he’d just entertain your wild thoughts, especially when you’re half asleep. Conversations like how different life would be if dinosaurs never went extinct or if flat earth conspiracists were right. You’d be lying with your back to his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist while you mumbled any thoughts that came to mind. He’d listen till he heard your soft snores and he’d give you a gentle kiss on your head before he’d fall asleep too.

Then there would be nights where words would rarely be spoken. A night of soft moans as he took care of your body in ways only he knew how. He’d whisper praises, drawing out moans from you as he hit all the right spots. It was always different and exciting. You never knew what to expect, but he would always be so loving. You’d always stay close, basking in the afterglow.

After having the comfort of Steve in the night, the times he’s not there feel a lot lonelier than before.

Like now, you’ve got your eyes closed but you’re not sleeping. Your thoughts seem louder than ever and they’re all about Steve. It probably doesn’t help that you decided to wear one of his tee shirts to bed, the faint smell of him making you miss him even more. After he cancelled on you (again) this past weekend, you started to wonder if he even wanted to see you at all.

You want to be mad at him, but how can you be? He’s Captain America! He has a responsibility that he can’t ignore, not even for his girlfriend. Lately, you can’t help but be worried at how many missions he’s been going on. To make matters worse, you’re left in the dark about all of it. He says it’s safer if you don’t know. You just have to trust him and trust that he needs to go.

But what if he doesn’t actually need to? What if he wants to go so he doesn’t have to see you. Okay, that’s extreme, but it’s a possibility? It seems like he doesn’t even want to talk to you at all sometimes. You’re always the one texting and calling. It’s never really him unless it’s to let you down (again). Maybe you’re just being needy. Were you asking for too much? Are you overreacting? Probably. But it’s normal to be upset about not seeing your boyfriend for weeks, right?

You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. You pick up your phone from the nightstand. The clock reads 3:12am. You unlock your phone and open your messages to see the last few texts Steve sent.

Steve ♡: I’m sorry.

You: just be safe

—

Steve ♡: I’m back.

You: okay

Your thumb hovers over the call button for a good bit, contemplating if you want to bother him so late at night. Before you can overthink it, you hit the button. You turn to lay on your side with the phone against your ear, anxiously waiting for the ringing to stop.

“Hello,” Steve answers, voice deep and filled with sleep. You feel guilty for waking him up, but at the same time feel relief at the sound of his voice.

“Hi,” you say shyly. Honestly, you weren’t expecting him to actually pick up. You were prepared to just leave a voicemail.

“Is something wrong?” he mumbles.

“No, no. There’s nothing wrong… I just…” you can feel the heat rising in your face, suddenly embarrassed for some reason. “I just miss you,” you say quietly, not even sure if he’s heard you.

You can hear the shuffling of sheets.

“I miss you too sweetheart,” he says and it warms your heart for a moment, “and as much as I wanna talk right now, I have to be up in a couple hours for a mission.”

“Oh,” the small smile you had on your face quickly disappears. You had no idea he was leaving again even though he just got back the day before.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay hon?” he says tiredly.

You feel a lump in your throat forming but you push past it, “yeah… yeah, of course.”

“Love you,”

“Love you too,” you practically whisper.

The phone call ends and the tears start to slide down your face. You didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore.

The last call you had with Steve a few days ago left you torn between logic and your emotions. You knew he was just tired, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between you two. In the past, he never seemed to mind talking to you, even in the odd hours of the morning. You always believed that you guys were so in sync. It seemed like he knew when you needed comfort and would be there to provide it.

You would be able to tell when something was off with Steve and though you would always offer to talk about it, he would brush it off. Thinking back to it, maybe he never really opened up to you for a reason.

You began to question if you are more invested in this relationship than he is. It feels wrong to even think so, considering how sweet and caring he is, especially with you. But everyone has their limits, right? Maybe he’s just gotten tired of you. It’s clear that work is his number one priority right now, maybe he doesn’t have time for a girlfriend anymore. He always makes promises of making it up to you another time, but maybe there will never be another time.

The thought of him leaving completely sends a pang of hurt to your heart.

You: can we talk?

You had sent Steve that text what felt like forever ago, but in reality has only been 20 minutes. You had spent that time repeating in your head what you were going to tell him while you paced back and forth around your living room. You were going to ask for a break. You didn’t want to break up with him completely, no, but you thought that this would be better in the long run. You’re hoping a break will give him the space he needs and then you guys can go back to the way you were. You figured it was better to let him focus on being a hero. You didn’t want to become the clingy girlfriend that he’d eventually resent.

You had no idea how he would react. Maybe he would agree. It’ll be tough, but every couple goes through something like this, right? Sure, it’s a special circumstance with you dating an Avenger, but other people have busy partners. You wonder how they manage a relationship when they don’t see each other so often. Maybe you were giving up too easily? But you’re tired of feeling pushed aside, like you aren’t his priority when he’s at the top of your list. You’re tired of feeling guilty for being upset when he can’t come see you. You’re just tired of feeling like you’re losing him.

Just as you start to doubt your whole plan, your ringtone breaks the silence. You pick up your phone with a shaky hand and tap on the answer button.

“Hello,” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice the nervous tone of your voice.

“Hey honey, you wanted to talk?”

“Uh, yeah…” you reply, already struggling to keep your voice even.

“Is everything alright?” he’s concerned and you can imagine the look on his face.

“Yeah…yeah,” you lie, “I uh… I just wanted to talk… about us.”

“Listen honey, I’m sorry about last week but it was really-“ he begins to apologize, but you shake your head, not wanting to hear another excuse.

“It’s more than that Steve,” you interrupt.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” you hesitate, trying to gather your thoughts. “Do you realize it’s almost been a month since we’ve last seen each other?”

There’s a pause before he answers, “…I didn’t know it had been so long.”

“Do you even care?” you ask, voice giving in to the mix of anger and sadness you feel. The tears begin to well up in your eyes.

“Of course I care, you know I do” he defends.

“Do I though?” you question. The rehearsed words you mentally prepared are long gone. “…I’ve been sitting here thinking of what I’m doing wrong because I feel like something’s changed between us.”

“What are you talking about?” he sounds genuinely confused, “Nothing’s changed.”

“Steve… we don’t talk like we used to, I barely get to see you. I miss you all the time.”

“I know I’ve been working a lot lately,“ he acknowledges.

“And I don’t blame you for that,” you clarify.

“I know how important your job is, but… but I’m feeling a little left out here,” your voice cracks at the end. You wipe the few tears that started to fall down your face. “I mean, I feel like I barely know that part of your life. You’re gone most of the time and you never talk to me about it.”

“I can’t, for your safety. We’ve discussed that.”

“Yeah and I thought I could handle it, but you’re giving me nothing here,” you argue. “I wanna be there for you Steve, but it’s hard when you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I... I can’t. I want to but it’s better if you don’t know,” he says pleadingly. You want to believe him, but you just can’t seem to let this go.

The silence lingers over the phone.

“Maybe we should take a break,” you eventually say with defeat.

“A break?”

“Maybe we just need some time to sort things out. You can focus on your work and when things get better… we can try again.”

“No, no…” he starts to argue, “that’s not fair.”

“Steve, please…” you beg, “just try to see where I’m coming from. I still love you, I always will. I just think we need this.”

He doesn’t say a word, making you anxious.

“Steve-”

You’re cut off by the phone hanging up. You sit in disbelief, letting the weight of the conversation fall on you.

You spent the rest of the night just curled up on the couch. You keep questioning your decision. In your mind, this was the right thing to do, despite the heartbreak you knew you’d be feeling. But you didn’t think it would hurt as much as it does now.

Steve’s reaction made you rethink the idea of a break. You worry that he thinks you don’t love him anymore when it’s the complete opposite. You did this because you love him. You didn’t want to lose him completely, but it looks like you lost him anyways. Maybe, deep down, a part of you was trying to save yourself from the inevitable heartbreak.

The living room was dark, the only light coming from the street lights outside. The tears have stopped flowing, but the headache lingers. It’s almost 2 in the morning and despite being worn out from crying, you have trouble sleeping. You’re about to get up for a glass of water when you hear a knock on your door.

Your first reaction is to panic, because you weren’t expecting anyone at such a late hour. You mentally run through the self defense moves Steve insisted on teaching you. Slowly, you approach the door, trying to not make any noise.

Knock knock knock.

“It’s me.”

It’s softly spoken, but you hear him loud and clear. You quickly open the door to reveal Steve with a look of sorrow on his face. You can’t help but stare at him in shock, taking in his disheveled appearance.

“I don’t want a break,” he says hoarsely, breaking you out of your trace.

You all but pounce toward him and wrap your arms around his neck. He immediately wraps his arms tightly around your waist. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling the familiar scent that reminds you of home. Despite everything that happened over the phone, you feel a flood of relief from finally being in his arms.

You stood in his embrace, relishing the feeling of him being there for a good minute before you pulled away. You meet his eyes, noticing the tears surrounding them and it hurts your heart.

“We should talk,” you say, voice rough from the crying just hours ago.

You’re sitting side by side on your couch. You look at him and can’t believe that he drove all the way to your place in the middle of the night. You can see the worry on his face and you want nothing more than to comfort him, but you hold back because you want an explanation first.

“So..” you start off, “you don’t want a break?”

“Y/N, I know I’ve messed up, but please don’t give up on us,” he says with pleading eyes.

“I don’t want to. I thought that’s what you would’ve wanted. I thought…” you shy away from his stare, “maybe you didn’t want me anymore.”

Steve looks at you with guilt, realizing for the first time how much he’s hurt you, “I’m sorry… I know I’ve been saying that a lot lately but I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t want to be with you.”

“Then what's been going on?” you ask, looking back at him, determined to know why it took you asking for a break to get him here.

Steve looks down at his hands, visibly nervous. Why? You have no idea.

“Talk to me Steve,” you encourage him. “Please.”

He turns to look at you, taking a breath before saying “I’ve been looking for Bucky.”

You’re immediately confused. Out of all the things you thought of him saying, this was never one of them.

“Bucky? Bucky Barnes?” you question. You knew of his friend from the stories he would tell you. Bucky was practically a brother to Steve.

“Yes,” he says easily, but it just makes you more confused. The thought of Steve going crazy briefly crosses your mind.

“He’s the Winter Soldier,” he explains. You recognize that name from the news. He was a part of the incident that happened in DC.

“What? H-How would that even be possible?” you question, not really being able to wrap your head around it. From what you knew, Bucky died in war back in the 40s.

“HYDRA was using him. They found him after he fell from the train and they brainwashed him for decades until I was able to snap him out of it when we fought in DC,” Steve continues, “After he saved my life, he disappeared.”

The pain in his voice is evident as he talks about his friend. You scoot closer to him and you take his hand into yours, offering him comfort.

“Sam and I have been following any lead we could to find him,” he explains, “I’ve been doing that along with all the other missions I get sent on. That’s why I’ve been gone so much.”

It finally makes sense to you.

“Oh Steve,” you say, “I wish you would’ve told me this sooner.”

“I know honey, I should have…” he squeezes your hand, which you reciprocate.

“HYDRA is evil. I’ve seen how cruel they can be,” he continues. “The thought of them coming anywhere near you kills me,” his voice filled with emotion and his eyes gloss over with tears. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to get out of that headspace…”

He looks away from you, head down, “you shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

You reach over with your free hand to touch his face. “Steve,” you turn his head to look at you. His blue eyes shine even in the dim lighting. “Please don’t shut me out. I want to know these things. You don’t have to tell me everything, but I just want to be there for you. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Your eyes beg him to understand you. “And I get it now. Bucky is your friend and I know you’ll find him again someday. Just don’t put all that stress on yourself,” your thumb wipes away a stray tear falling down his face. “I want to help you in any way I can. You can always come back to me.”

He subtly nods and looks at you, faces only a breath apart. “I don’t deserve you,” he says quietly, like he’s in disbelief.

He closes the distance, lips finally meeting yours. Your eyes flutter shut, as you continue to cradle his face in your palms. You focus on conveying all your love for him into the kiss. You pull away briefly to move on to his lap as he leans back into the couch. His hands naturally fall on your hips as you get impossibly close.

You break the kiss again, “Promise not to leave me again,” you plead, but your tone is much lighter this time. You never wanted to leave his arms again.

He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowing a bit, “I can’t promise that,” you give him a sad smile, already knowing that. His hand leaves your hip to push a stray hair behind your ear, “but I can promise that I will talk to you more and show you how much you mean to me more often. ”

You genuinely smile at that.

“This is important to me,” he says, pulling you closer, emphasizing his words, “you’re important to me.”

“I love you”

“I love you too,”

You lean back in to kiss him again, smiling in between because you’re happy to have your Steve back. And you know things will get better from here. There’s still going to be some tough nights when you miss him and he can’t be there, but you know he’ll be missing you just as much. You won’t have to doubt his love for you again.

You pull away once more, “Remember how you said, you’d make it up to me?” you question with a mischievous look in your eye.

“Yeah,” he says looking at you expectantly.

You simply raise your eyebrows and smirk at him. He catches on and mouths an “oh”.

You’re lifted from the couch so you latch onto Steve’s shoulders, giggling loudly at the sudden movement. He carries you into your bedroom, where he definitely made up for lost time.

You slept much easier that night.

hope you enjoyed reading! 🤍 reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!! let me know if you liked it :)

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers oneshot

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wingzie · 4 years ago

Text

Brutally Honest Reactions to Jikook

It was requested on Twitter that I talk about the less positive posts about Jikook moments from my live reactions research. These will NOT include any screenshots, but I will discuss what I saw. I will continue to keep posting positive things about Jikook, but the fandom reaction towards Jikook is one of the reasons why I feel so strongly about supporting them so much. Please read ahead if you are interested. I will also keep it out of the Jikook tag.

I will quickly add my own experience here before I continue. I am an early 2019 ARMY. I didn't follow any BTS accounts on Twitter until after I caught up on content. I then started following Jikook accounts once I got braver, because I could see a clear difference in the way the fandom talked about them. (Or not at all in some cases.) It wasn't until I started following Jikook accounts, that I knew about GCF Tokyo. For a fandom that hyped up Jungkook being a director for LGO, his previous work and especially GCFT is rather ignored. Especially when it's obvious that Jungkook has always had an interest in making videos.

GCFT

An important factor here is that GCFT was posted after Jimin's lovely twitter edit. From what I saw, no one had any real issues with Jimin's edit. The general consensus was that it was sweet that Jimin and Jungkook were finally able to go on a trip together and that Jimin made an edit out of it. But if that's the case, why were there then issues when GCFT was posted, that are still here today?

Compared to Jimin's edit, there is a clear sense of jealousy when GCFT was released. A "sweet trip" turned into a "not big deal" or started to include fake narratives. Some of which really confused me at first, until I asked someone at the time and got the truth.

There is a sudden change of tone aimed towards Jikook: “How dare they go on a trip together?” and “how dare they share it with us this way?.” It's clear to me that this jealously suddenly began because of the editing style, the camera shots and the song used. All of which made you feel a certain way when watching GCFT, if you were not so blind or bitter. However, the fandom did it's best to try to belittle JK's work. Saying excuses such as the song was not intentional or that the editing choices were coincidental. That's not the case at all and to quote a certain song "this is no coincidence."

There is an interesting notion that some shippers and y/n's turned to fan fictions after GCFT was released. This suggests to me that they did indeed in fact feel the same way about GCFT. They got the message loud and clear, but had to try to tune it out with another fantasy because of what they felt. They wanted what Jimin and Jungkook had for themselves or another member.

GCF's after GCFT

After GCFT there was a need to show: "look Jimin and Jungkook aren't that close." Which Jikook didn't get the memo of and it shows that people were keeping an eye on them. However, this was only to be able justify their negative thoughts about the possibility of two men being together. They couldn't stand the idea and came up with every excuse possible to deny it. There were a fair amount of “don’t assume their sexuality” posts floating around.

There was also a definite shift after GCFT with Jikooker’s themselves. Of course they were supportive, but much more discreet about it. Afterwards though ,and up through to today, they got louder about Jimin and Jungkook's bond. It's clear this reflects in the fandom perception of them together as a unit or just on the timeline itself. There is almost an annoyance whenever they show up.

The newer GCF’s turned more into a competition between the members. Something which sadly continued even with the Life Goes On MV. Rather than seen as a cute maknae trip in Osaka, GCFO was used as leverage against Jikook to prove that they weren't that close. Which is bizarre in itself and it was like Jimin wasn't in the video at all.

The outrage that sparked when GCFH was released showed the true hypocrisy of the fandom. Jungkook set the tone beautifully to match the Winter Package location of Helsinki. The fact so many quickly jumped on this, but ignored his skills previously is very telling. For all those yelling about appreciating Jungkook, they only yell when it's about making themselves feel better about something.

Rose Bowl. I don't need to introduce this. However what I found interesting is that people outside of ARMY were more accepting of what happened than actual ARMY. It also made me question what the definition of "ot7" is, because these accounts were going around underneath posts with "stop shipping”, “they're just bros" or my most hated one "they do stuff like this in South Korea all the time."

The last one is an absolute hate of mine and is always used by NON Koreans. ARMY are often all about Korean culture until it's something they don't want to hear or know about. A general translation account has already pointed out that Jikook are extremely close due to lack of honorifics and it moe or less got ignored. Another account will mention the same , but for another unit, and it's worshiped to high heaven. Yet Jikooker’s are delusional for being the ones to understand the cultural significance of it?

Jungkook's Birthday in 2019

I am actually going to be calling out Jikooker’s here because the reverse happened this time. Others found Jimin’s Birthday video sweet, whereas Jikooker’s were being extremely rude and disrespectful ON the timeline towards Jimin about it. Plus the usual "Jikook broke up" malarkey that pops up twice a month happened. I only recently started researching this and I’m not even sure I can make a thread on it, because there was so much fighting on the Timeline about the Birthday video.

This is what spurred me on to write my twitter post about being careful about what you post and where your priorities lie. A lot of Jikooker’s were upset before Jimin posted. Not because "he hasn't posted.”, but because "he hasn't posted [for me]."

This is something that Jikooker’s have to wrap their heads around. We only see a tiny percentage of their daily lives. They also have each other's phone number and see each other daily. They also know each other extremely well and probably better than any of us actually will. It is not up to us what they post or what we see. Do we miss them? Of course. However, to instantly start hating them for that is wrong. You're acting just like the fandom first did when GCFT came out. These same people also acted like nothing had happened as soon as Jimin posted the photo of Jungkook later on.

Seoul Final

For those that don't remember Rose, she was a k-army translator that went to Seoul Final. In one of her live shows afterwards, she explained how other Karmy were surprised by Jikook's closeness on stage. It wasn't just us.

However ,on Naver, there was a storm brewing about Jimin treating Jungkook inappropriately and the way they were acting on stage. This was first started by Jungkook akages and then spread around to some of the fandom who decided to jump in.

This is one example of people using K-army as a weapon. That they know *best* when they suffer the same on their side with solos etc... It's also another example of the hatred towards Jimin.

This isn't something new. Shipping was fairly peaceful and kept its original definition of wanting two people to be together. Even if this did include two real people. It wasn't until the definition of shipping morphed into something new and possibly real, that things started to erupt in the fandom. And this eruption was sadly placed onto Jimin, as people saw him as a disruption to their fantasies.

This defamation of both Jimin and Jungkook's character from the fandom has been present since the beginning. They are seen as liars or not intelligent. That their closeness is fake, even though you can clearly see it from the start and then develop over the years. It's something that has always been beautiful to witness whilst watching, old content and new.

These examples of fandom reactions I have used are ones all related to expectations. If Jimin and Jungkook do not act as expected or they shock the fandom, one side will react negatively. The fandom also do not seem to like seeing Jikook be so loud, so to speak. And with the emergence of more Jikooker’s on social media, this horrid view of them will no doubt increase Though many hate the term Jikook. It signifies the unit of Jimin and Jungkook and no matter what, they will do what they want too and continue to do so. Thank you for reading and feel free to ask questions if you have any!

#wingzie #wingzieobservation

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saturnsummer · 4 years ago

Text

worthy.

When Sol gets a GPA of 2.02, the study group (and Joon Hwi) comes together to cheer her up.

notes: another prompt by @thenerdywriter ! i wasn't sure if you meant it like this, but i hope you are satisfied! thank you for your prompt and your trust! i do apologise for the wait!

not much fluff or cliche romantic scenes, but just simple things that i hope when you read, remember your worth and never be defeated. you are worthy, loved and deserving to be appreciated. :) inbox always open!

for anyone who have sent prompts and asks, i thank you for your ideas! i have read through all your asks and am so excited to begin writing, but please understand if i can’t reply you as fast as i hoped! so sorry for this, i’ll try to address my inbox faster!! any mistakes or incorrect information will be taken responsible by me. enjoy!

edit: everyone, please don’t cry on this omg I’ve made 5 people comment their tears now and im terribly sorry for the tears.. I meant for this to be a light hearted story but looks like everyone is crying,, I’ll try not to make people cry now..

original prompt: where joon hwi and the rest of the gang shake some sense into her (sol a) about her self-esteem.

words: 2787 words

Sol is downstairs at the lounge, holding a clear bottle of soju. She takes another swig from the plastic bottle, hoping that the alcohol can numb her heart like it does to her head. It burns, and she’s turning woozy, but she grumbles and takes another swig.

2.02. She’s passed, at least. But she can’t help but feel upset. She wasn’t upset that she couldn’t score as well as Yeseul or BokGi, but upset that she’s satisfied with these low results. No one is going to hire her, even less offer an internship while looking at her track records.

Sol worked her ass off for this exam. She nearly died, if it wasn’t for Yeseul’s reminders to eat. Even her cold stoned face roommate bothered to place bottles of water on her desk. Yet, after all this...

“Why are you still up?” She hears Joon Hwi ask as he takes a seat next to her. She stays silent with a grim expression and turns away. Joon Hwi was the last person she wanted to see, especially when she’s in such a bad mod.

“What’s wrong?” He asks as he catches her arm just as she’s about to chug her soju.

“Everything.” She slurs. “You know I’m not even upset with my GPA? I’m upset of being happy with my shitty grades.” Joon Hwi sighs, attempting to grab her bottle away.

“I should have never came to study. I should have never tried to prove myself to be Dan!” She scolds louder. Sol knows she’s drunk in front of her best friend, but she can’t control herself. She doesn’t care.

“Kang Sol...” Joon Hwi stands up, grabbing her bottle away from her. “You’re drunk. Go back.”

“I don’t belong here, anyway.” Her slurs catch Joon Hwi in his steps.

“I never once belonged with any of you. Being with all of you just drags you all further. I should just stop burdening you all with my questions and rot in a corner. Besides, no one would care.” She softly says, her voice filled with regret and guilt.

Sol has always felt this way. Ever since she was young, Dan was always the star child. She got top grades while Sol got through in the middle rankings. Dan was always more popular, prettier, smarter. Sol learnt at a young age that no matter what, she would always be overshadowed by Dan.

Thus, she learnt to be quiet. Only ask questions when she really needs to. Stick to familiar people. Only be loud when told to, and blend in in every situation. She learnt to depreciate herself, because no one appreciated her in the first place.

Joon Hwi wants to shake her. He wants to write an entire dissertation on why Sol belongs to Hankuk. He wants to show her what he sees: a smart, caring, passionate lawyer-to-be. He wants to show her what he sees when she testified for Professor Yang in court. A confident, woman knowing her morals and rights.

“Kang Sol.” Joon Hwi says, pulling her up by her wrist. Sol pushes him away, but her touches are sloppy and weak. Sighing, Joon Hwi knows that it is useless to argue about her grades and her worth when she’s not even half conscious of what she’s doing.

He grabs her coat lying on the couch, finding her phone and plans on calling Yeseul. But it’s past 1am, but he doesn’t want to trouble Yeseul. Sighing, he contemplates calling her roomie but reality smacks when he realises she’s home. Noticing how Sol is slowly nodding off, giving in to the fatigue, it leaves Joon Hwi not much of an option to carry her back.

Fishing the room key out from her coat, he takes special care in carrying her, sweeping his arm under her knee and lifting her slowly as to not disrupt her from falling asleep. The key card is in between his fingers as he slowly and quietly makes his way up to her dorm. He thanks the deities above that no one caught him or interrupted him.

Tapping the key card, a standard ‘beep’, he pushes the door with his back, and takes care to get him and her into the dark room. He can barely see anything, especially since he has no hands to on the lights, but he makes out his way in the small room using the moonlight and what he can tell.

Joon Hwi knows which side Sol sleeps, knowing from her stories that include her rolling from the bed up to the desk. By now, Sol was sleeping soundly, a slight snore escaping her. Gently, he sets her down on her bed and reaches to take her shoes off for her. Hanging up her coat that he placed on top of her whilst he was carrying her, he finally pulled the thick blanket over her.

But he didn’t leave just yet.

“I never once belonged with any of you.”

Sol’s words echoed in his head more than he thought it would. He stopped and bent down silently by her bed side, taking a few moments to wonder to himself just how and why does she feel so unworthy.

He grabs her bottle of water from her bag, before putting it next to her phone, which is on the table. Knelt on the floor, he observes the slow rise of her chest and the way her eyes flutter and nose twitch when Sol sleeps. Just how can someone like Sol think she’s any less than what he sees?

“You belong here in Hankuk. I’ll show you just why.” His whisper barely audible, as he brushes away a stray hair on her face. With that, he takes his leave and sneaks back to his dorm. (Without getting caught)

-----

The next day, after two painkillers and a big bowl of hangover soup (left mysteriously by someone at their pantry), Sol is headed to study group. She is running a few minutes early than their scheduled timing, but she’s surprised to find the group huddled in hushed whispers.

“What are you all looking at?” Sol asks, as she sets her book at her usual corner opposite Joon Hwi. BokGi lets out a startled yelp and Yebeom clamps his mouth shut. Sol isn’t surprised to see Jiho crowded there, but is even more shocked to see Sol B crowded with them too. If it was anything, Sol B wouldn’t crowd around and discuss things, unless it concerned herself, or benefitted her grades.

“What...” Sol leans over and raises her eyebrows. Yeseul’s eyes dart nervously and she breaks into a smile. The rest of the group just shuffles back to their seats murmuring under their breath.

“Nothing, unnie! They were just discussing on what to order for lunch.” Yeseul says as she walks over to Sol and takes her bag and books from her, before setting it on the table. “Unnie, shall we get coffees?” Yeseul escorts her out of the room before Sol could react. Sol assumes that it’s due to her hangover that Yeseul is suggesting coffee, thus just following and getting a cold brew and assorted drinks for the others.

When she returns, they distribute the drinks and start discussing on what to study.

“Noona, do you have anything?” BokGi asks, a little too enthusiastically. Sol is taken aback and lost for words. She usually just follows whatever the rest want, since answering her questions will take hours. Joon Hwi gives a sympathetic smile.

“How about you share with us about a recent case? Remember the one that Professor Kim liked in particular?” Joon Hwi suggests. Sol grows quiet. Her? The worst student? Sol let’s out an uncertain laugh.

“Ah, me? I rather my roomie shares. She did better than me.” Sol says, then prepares a fresh document for note taking on her laptop.

“I didn’t do well.” Sol B says quietly, her eyes emotionless as usual, leaning back into the chair. “You did the best. Go on.” Sol is stunned and just nods uncertainly. Taking out her case notes and her reports that she submitted, she nervously discusses the topic on hand. She sneaks Joon Hwi a couple of questioning stares but he only pretends to not catch her eyes.

Everyone is enthusiastic, asking questions and when Sol is stumped, they jump in to help her. They suggest ideas and Sol has never felt so energised by their energy before. She find it fishy how Joon Hwi just sits back and she can feel him smiling whenever she makes a point right or figures out a missing link.

An hour later, when they are done expanding on Sol’s case and discussing, they break for a late lunch together. Yebeom enters the room with bags of food, as usual over ordering. As they pass out containers of jjampong and jjajamyeon, Sol’s eyes light up when she saw the only thing that mattered in the whole order: her beloved pickles, in doubled servings.

What Sol doesn’t expect is for JiHo to dump his packet of pickles on her container of noodles.

“JiHo-ah, why...” Sol is dumbfounded for a moment as JiHo opens his pack of noodles to stir. JiHo only pushes up his glasses.

“You can have them, noona.” Sol is even more dumbfounded. This was the first time JiHo has called her noona. She didn’t care for the honourifics, and JiHo could call her by her full name for all she cared. But hearing those words from Seo JiHo’s mouth, just made her think everyone was utterly suspicious today.

“Okay, everyone is being weird. What is this?” Sol announces, hoping her tone came out fun, with no hints of anger.

“Nothing! We just know you’ve been feeling stressed, so JiHo decided to give you his share of pickles, right?” BokGi quips up, as he dives into taking the sauce to pour over the tangsuyuk, before Yebeom and him argue over pouring or dipping.

Sol, still feeling suspicious, breaks her chopsticks just as Joon Hwi picks up a pickle from her plastic saucer to put on her noodles. Her eyes dart from his chopstick to his face, but he just nods at her pickles, expressions hard to read.

Sol crunches on her pickles, but it does nothing to soothe the feeling that everyone was aware of something, but her.

-----

The rest of the week was a puzzle piece that Sol could not fix together.

She woke up everyday to a new message by Joon Hwi, sometimes sending her funny videos, or a simple “let’s get through this together”. She woke up once to her roomie handing her breakfast and coffee. It just didn’t click in Sol’s head to see the cold Sol B hand her a sandwich and coffee.

Their group chat was undoubtedly noisy, but even more so now. Something in common was how the more chatty ones would ask Sol for advice or chat and strike noisy conversations. She was used to the chaos, but she definitely didn’t feel used to having the attention on her.

As the group had earned different internships from small and large firms, Sol was going to be left in school alone, still applying and hoping for one to come her way. Her study group knew about it, and instead continued to encourage her about it. They avoided talk on their internships, and actively tried to help Sol. While Sol was grateful, she couldn’t help but wish that they would just act normal and not worry about her.

She chose to meet them for breakfast on the day of their internships. The meal was noisy as usual as they ate their sandwiches and gimbaps. They were dressed smartly in their suits with their briefcases. Sol made a fuss over everyone looking smart on their first day.

“Hurry up and eat, you’re going to be late for your internship!” Sol scolded BokGi as he and Yebeom threw comments back and forth. Everyone was off for theirs and ready with their jackets and bags. Walking with them to the door, she couldn’t help but feel like a mom to her kids, sending them to school.

“Noona! Check your table later in the libra-” Yebeom gleefully mused before BokGi clamped his mouth shut and JiHo (with much irritation) smacked his head silently.

“What?” Sol asks, turning to Joon Hwi, who was turning redder by the second. Joon Hwi closes his eyes, the same way he does when he’s embarrassed and looks away from her.

“Listen to Yebeom and check the table.” He says, finally looking at her. “We’ll see you for dinner then.” Waving a quick goodbye, the group walked away from her towards the carpark where they separated to the bus stops or in the direction of the train station.

“O-Okay…” she mutters, still confused as she carries her books and bag to her usual table at the library. She would have went to sulk at Professor Kim’s office for a while, but she instead chose to head straight to study. Professor Kim had enough on her plate and she wasn’t ready just yet to face Professor Kim with her mood.

There, at her table, lies her stack of books.

Normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Huffing out, she slumps her bag on her table, gathering the post its on the bar above the table. Most of them were just plain comments, like how she had to stop slamming her pen into her hand (it distracted students) or move out of the library cause there aren't enough seats. Opening her book on civil code, she was ready to start drilling her head before meeting Professor Kim.

Then she spots an envelope, hidden between the pages of the book.

Carefully, she picks it out and looks on the cream white paper, the only ink on it her name, written in neat handwriting. She could recognise Joon Hwi’s handwriting anywhere. A slight scoff escapes her lips and several students turn in annoyance. Realising that this was probably not the best place to be in, she grabs her books and bags (and the post its) and leaves the library. She heads to the empty study room, where she knows she’s be comfortable at.

Opening the flap, she slips out numerous slips of paper, varying degrees of length and sizes. Some words were neat, some were a little messy.

-----

To: Unnie <3

Sol-unnie, you know you’re smart, right? Your grades may not show that you are the best, but I know you are! Whenever I hear you discuss a case with the study group, I know you’re trying your best to memorise and improve. Don’t give up, unnie! I will support you till the end!

- Yeseul

To: Sol-A noona

Yah, noona! You have to stop injuring yourself, okay? You gave us a really big scare the last time when you started nose bleeding in the midst of study group. Noona, don’t look at your grades anymore! If a man like me can get through law school so far pretty well, you can too! Fighting, noona!

Noona~ you’re really talented. The fact that you scored so well during the criminal law test and managed to spot the comma just shows for amazing you are! Noona, don’t be discouraged... seeing you discouraged makes us sad too. Your favourite dongsaeng is here to help you!

- BokGi and Yebeom

To: Kang Sol-A

You can do it. Review your cases before classes. Get your internship.

-JiHo

To: Sol-A

Live up to your name, will you? And sleep on a regular schedule.

- Roommate

To: Sol

Sunbae, remember me? Stop doubting yourself and trust yourself. You’re smarter than you know and fit for court. I will support you from wherever you are. I’m grateful for you, for supporting me all this time. I think Dan would be proud of you, and so will the cookie Byeol.

Sol, you are worthy in my eyes. So stop undermining yourself. You belong in Hankuk next to me. You can’t give up now.

-Joon Hwi

-----

Sol lets a smile creep on her face as she lets a small blush rise to her face. Holding her letters to her heart, she closes her eyes, reminding herself of the past week and her friend’s efforts to cheer her on. She knew no doubt it had to be Joon Hwi who convinced everyone there to write for her despite their busy schedule. For even Sol B to help out and bother about her, it warmed her heart to have her support.

Picking her book, she pinned her hair up as she started drill into her book with a new found confidence, fuelled by her friends supporting her. But most importantly, she felt worthy. She felt loved. She felt confident. She was hopeful.

(Everyone thinks she’s worthy in their eyes, but one just thinks she’s perfect.)

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wrathandgreed · 4 years ago

Text

A crafty MC making goodbye gifts for the demon bros (unromanced and romanced).

Word count: 3.5k

Notes: I’m a huge crafter (knitter, crocheter, spinner, weaver, cross stitcher, etc) and I’m currently knitting my husband a winter hat, so I started trying to figure out what a crafty MC would make the brothers as goodbye gifts when they go back to the human world.

Also, this got REALLY REALLY long.

Lucifer

(Unromanced)

This guy is hard to make stuff for.

His aesthetic is VERY tight and leaves no room for mistakes

So a simple winter scarf, in business-black, is probably the way to go.

Somewhat lux yarn, cashmere/silk or alpaca/silk, so it has a sheen

He travels to the human world sometimes, and Diavolo has winter themed events in Devildom sometimes, so a scarf isn’t totally impractical.

He would appreciate the amount of time you spent making it, even if he didn’t get a chance to wear it that often.

(Romanced)

Let’s get more personal, now. You still have the same problem with his aesthetic, and the fact that if you want to give him something ~~personal~~ he won’t be able to wear it openly. His pride says no.

He’s stern in public, but affectionate in private.

You knit a medium-sized decorative pillow cover for his bed, in his signature wine-red.

It’s simple and elegant and can sit on his bed like it’s something he picked up in a Hellhome Goods store, and only *he* knows it’s a private gift.

After swearing him to secrecy, you get Solomon to help you charm the pillow, so it never pills up or wears out, and it maintains your scent forever. (Actually, it’s fair to say you do this for all of the romanced gifts).

“I thought, you know, if I can’t be there with you every night, something of me can?”

Awkward MC is awkward.

He not only appreciates how much time went into the gift (who knows how busy you are better than Lucifer?) but that you spent that much time thinking about him.

Mr. Acts of Service over here. Every stitch is something you did *for him*

You assume he’ll just leave it on the bed, and maybe, if you’re lucky, it’ll help you be the last thing he thinks of at night and the first thing he thinks of in the morning.

Maybe he’ll smile when he sees it, and some of his weariness will lift.

Oh, if only you knew.

Mr. “Stern In Public” wraps himself around the pillow every night. Well. Every time he manages to sleep. Which, let’s face it, isn’t every night.

But when he DOES sleep, it’s with that pillow. If he can’t sleep wrapped around you, this will have to suffice.

Finds he doesn’t sleep well when he travels, because he refuses to bring the pillow with him.

If asked, he says it’s because it’s not important.

But he just doesn’t want to lose it.

It’s too important to him.

Mammon

(Unromanced)

You’ve seen this boy’s room.

You’re not spending hours and hours and tons of money making him something.

You love the guy, but you’ve seen how he takes care of his possessions.

Most of what he owns is chucked aside when the next new-shiny comes along.

You know he loves you to bits and he’ll be careful with whatever you give him.

But “careful” has a different definition for Mammon than for some of the others.

So you knit him a hat. A trendy, slightly-too-small hat in black with a small yellow stripe on the brim.

You can use some lux yarn because, for a single-skein project, investing in cashmere or mohair or something isn’t too awful.

It looks really great on him - the fluff of his white hair, the small yellow stripe, then the wash of black as contrast. It makes his eyes pop and his skin look even warmer.

He wears it to a shoot one day and the photographer loves it

Now everyone wants one

But he has the only one because it’s handmade

Suck it, losers!

The Avatar of Greed finally has something everyone else wants that no one else can get!

(Romanced)

Yeah, you’ve seen his room. You’ve practically lived in his room. But you know he’ll be careful with anything you give him because he loves you.

It would break his heart to have to ask you to fix something you made for him.

You know he’s going to suffer when you leave

You want him to know that you’re always there, even if you’re not *there*

So you knit him a sweater

A big, oversized sweater out of super soft chunky wool with tons of texture.

You finish it early so you can wear it around your room for a few weeks. On the rare nights you sleep alone, you sleep in it.

Again, get Solomon to enchant it.

Now it smells like you.

You wouldn’t notice, but a demon’s sense of smell is far stronger.

“I know it’s not, like, fashionable or anything. But it’s comfy and it can be…..a portable hug?”

His face turns red and he winds up stammering. Obviously. So he puts it on to avoid having to look at you.

Chucks it on over his tshirt. He immediately pulls the neckband back up over his face to take a deep inhale from the fabric.

He looks really cute in it

(He looks really cute in anything, let’s face it)

Might start crying.

Hug him pls.

Any night he feels lonely (which is most nights) he wears this sweater. Falls asleep in it half the time.

It really is like a hug, and the boy needs all the hugs he can get.

Leviathan

(Unromanced)

Out of all the brothers, Levi is the one who will appreciate STUFF. No matter what you make for him, he’ll love it.

It’s limited edition! No one else has anything like this!

So this boy is getting crocheted plushies.

(They’re called amigurumi, and he’ll appreciate knowing that)

You make a mobile for his room

Hanging from it are little plushies of all his favorite sea creatures

Henry 2.0 is the biggest

But there’s a few jellyfish

A whale

You had to completely invent a pattern for a kraken, and it came out okay!

You had some extra yarn, so you made a few extra jellyfish

They get suction cups.

Now he has jellyfish in his tanks and outside his tanks

Spends the next hour rigging up the mobile over his tub so he can see them before he goes to sleep and remember how much his true friend cares about him.

(Romanced)

This took….time to make.

You had to basically invent two patterns from scratch

There was a LOT of frogging.

And swearing.

When Levi opens the box and pulls aside the tissue paper, there’s two crocheted figures

One of each of you

(The one of you may or may not be dressed as Ruri-Chan)

“You made these…..for me?”

Tell him you made ONE of them for him. You take the one of him and hug it, “This one comes with me. So I’ve still got you.”

(Don’t let him cry!)

(Too late)

Then you show him the best part - each figure has a magnet in one hand.

When they get close to each other, the magnets snap together and the figures hold hands :)

Even though the two amigurumi will be in two separate realms, those magnets will want to find their partner.

Levi is floored - this is just like something out of an anime! Like two halves of a locket or something!

He can’t even find words. Possibly not for the next hour or two.

But he makes the cutest little squeaks and the verbal equivalent of keysmashes.

Like Lucifer, he sleeps with your gift. But he also carries it around his room. It has pride of place on his desk, and he purchases a stand so you can sit with him while he games or does his online schooling.

He talks to it like he would talk to you, especially on busy days when you can’t actually talk to him on the D.D.D.

It eases the feeling that you left Devildom and forgot about him. Eases - just a little - the jealousy of every human in your world who gets to talk to you. Because none of THEM have a handmade you. Just him.

Satan

(Unromanced)

This guy is either the easiest one to make for, or the hardest.

Like, you could make him a stuffed kitty. Or knit him a tie. But he’s not a super sentimental guy (unless romanced) and, in the end, that’s just stuff. His room is FULL of stuff.

Soooooo, you take out your sewing skills and sew him a traditional Sherlock hat - the deerstalker one, the one that never was actually in the books, but is still associated with the character.

The most straightforward of the brothers, Satan is indeed touched that you spent so long making something for him and he tells you so.

Insists he’ll wear it when solving mysteries.

You laugh, but he actually does wear the hat when reading mysteries now.

It reminds him of the trip to London - how he got to solve an actual mystery, save his brother, and see the sites with his friend.

(Romanced)

YouTube made it look so easy.

It’s just paper, right? Paper and thread and a needle. You can sew clothes and stuffed animals. How hard can it be to sew together pages to make a book?

Oh, my sweet summer child.

You considered actually pulping and making your own paper, but after the seventh ruined batch of signatures you’re grateful you talked yourself out of that one.

You also considered an actual leather binding, but go for boards and a more simple Japanese sewing technique.

This project is the perfect thing to give to Satan - not just because it’s a book, but because making it is causing you SO MUCH RAGE.

Who needs firewood when you have the ruined attempts of your gift?

You may have thrown various attempts on the floor and stomped on them before chucking them in the fire.

It takes weeks but you finally get the book together. Now the REAL work can begin.

Every book the two of you read together. Every book you discussed. Every book you recommended to him. Every single one gets a page - a title, a date, and a discussion of your discussion of the book.

The book itself becomes a tour through your growing relationship.

While not as stern as Lucifer in public, Satan is also definitely fond in private - he’s completely unsurprised to receive a book as a present, but once he begins leafing through it, the semi-smug smile vanishes.

He looks shocked, and his hold on the book gentles.

His fingers run down the page, tracing your handwriting on a page particularly precious to him.

Speechless for a few minutes, he finally returns with only “I love it.”

Said so softly and sincerely that you can’t doubt his sincerity.

There are blank pages at the end and he begins to use them to document newer books he’s reading - ones he wants to discuss with you later.

Asmodeus

(Unromanced)

Good luck keeping your gift a secret!

Asmo loves craft and crafty things, so he’s always curious about what you’re making and fascinated with the process.

Probably helps with suggestions for the others, especially for a romanced brother (although WHAT you see in them is beyond him, after all, what can THEY have that Asmo doesn’t?)

Because he seems to pop up out of nowhere, he’s already seen his gift a few times. Thankfully, he thinks you’re making it for yourself.

Bonus, he’s whiny and jealous about it, and obviously wants it for himself. So, score. You know he’ll like it.

It seems simple; a pair of fingerless gloves in his signature hot pink. But the yarn is mohair lace (you’ve cursed at it many, many times for tangling on you) held double with merino/silk black yarn.

The gloves are lacy and airy, sensual and soft. They feel wonderful to wear, and look great with a majority of his outfits.

He absolutely squeals and hugs you when he opens up the gift - the gift he was so jealous of! Of COURSE you were making it for him this whole time!

Wears them constantly. His Devilgram pics start having a lot of “what am I holding?” themes. Cups of coffee or hot chocolate. Someone else’s hand. A ticket for an absolutely fabulous play. And a LOT of peace signs and finger-hearts :)

(Romanced)

This one requires the cooperation - willing or not - of everyone in the house.

You start with your DDD. That’s easy enough.

Since you’ll need Sol’s help anyway, it’s easy enough to plunder the pictures on his phone, too.

The rest of the brothers you get, one by one. Belphie’s you steal while he’s sleeping, although you found nothing useful on it. Beel just lets you borrow his phone. You ask to borrow Mammon’s while he’s gambling and he doesn’t notice that it takes you an hour to give it back. Satan - the real photographer - must be taken into your confidence - you might need his help later anyway. But he’s particularly close to Asmo, and knows how to keep his mouth shut.

You stalk Lucifer for a few weeks. You ask Satan for advice. You consider asking Diavolo to just order Lucifer to hand over his phone.

Finally you just ask him for it.

Getting a hold of Asmo’s phone is the hardest bit. You have to wait until he’s deep in a spa day, hanging around in his tub with both a sheet mask AND cucumber slices.

Then you make off with his phone. And go through the photos.

His wonderful Devilgram-worthy pictures you ignore. You start looking for the ones that he rejected, but kept. The one where both of you cracked up laughing right before the photo snapped. The one where he dropped his hot chocolate and then stole yours.

The two of you in clay face masks and toe spacers? Yep. The one you took of him with super-wide eyes as he put on mascara? Definitely. Selfies of you two surrounded by his brothers, by Sol, by Simeon, even a few with Luke.

The one Satan took of the two of you dancing at one of Diavolo’s balls, so lost in each other that the rest of the ball might as well not exist? Of course.

You combine them with the ones taken by everyone else in the house.

Culling them for the best takes weeks. Because you don’t just want the ~~prettiest~~ pictures or the ones designed for social media.

You pick the ones with emotional meaning, ones of important events, but mostly you choose pictures of genuine laughter and affection. Ones that show how much the two of you love each other, and how much true friendship exists in the house.

How much he’s not alone, and how much he is loved. How much the people around him appreciate him.

With Satan and Solomon, you gather and enchant a simple glass cube.

It displays these photos, gently lit up, like the digital picture frames in the human world.

“I want you to remember me,” you say quietly. “I want you to remember how much fun we’ve had, and how much I love you for you.”

Not gonna lie, Asmo cries.

The cube moves around his rooms depending on where he is - it’s by his tub if he’s taking a bath. It’s on his vanity when he’s putting on his makeup. He credits it with helping his relaxation and makeup game.

It’s always on a nightstand by his bed before he goes to sleep. Sometimes he just lays on his back, puts the cube on his stomach, and watches memories float through it.

What you wanted - for him to remember that he’s loved for more than his sexual prowess - comes true. The pictures remind him of the life he has outside of a bedroom.

He starts spending more time with his brothers. He starts taking more pictures.

His followers appreciate the diversification in his content :)

He appreciates how much you love getting texts of those photos - the not-social-media-ready ones, but the REAL ones.

Beelzebub

(Unromanced)

I mean, you could just bake the guy a dozen cakes.

But then he’d eat them and they’d be gone.

And you can’t make him anything that looks like food, because he’d eat it.

You’ve finished your gifts for half of the brothers before you even figure out what to make for him.

And then it comes to you…..socks.

He’ll use them.

He won’t eat them.

They’re not the most interesting gift, but you’re running out of time.

You actually manage to find a pattern covered with colorwork triangles that mimic his usual shirt.

You get Satan to charm them for you - the problem with handmade socks is that they wear out FAST. Not anymore!

Beel LOVES them.

(To be fair, he’d probably love anything you gave him)

Once he knows they won’t wear out, they become his Game Socks.

Like most athletes, he becomes superstitiously obsessed with the socks, wearing them for absolutely every game he plays.

Is convinced they help him win.

(Romanced)

You encounter basically the same problem as above - what on earth to make him?

You want something that reminds him how much you love him, and it absolutely can’t be anything he could even be tempted to eat, because he’d never forgive himself.

You try a number of times to build a small tapestry loom, but that skill seems to be beyond you.

Finally you have to beg Lucifer to pick one up for you in the human world.

Once you get it, you’re off and running.

Now, just because things can’t look like food doesn’t mean it can’t be inspired by it.

Red yarn, the exact juicy red of an apple - but here, just an abstract circle. Mixes of pale cream, yellow, and red in a triangle - an abstract pizza slice.

Those cookies Barbatos makes? There. The broccoli-cheddar soup you learned to make for her? Now just an orange blob with tiny green squiggles. And on, and on.

And buried, scattered throughout, little woven hearts.

The hearts are made of slightly different yarn, puffier and thicker, so they stand out just a little bit.

In the end, you have a decent-sized wall hanging, full of texture and shapes that are just reminiscent enough of food to bring a smile to Beel’s face, but not enough to actually be worth eating.

He passes the hanging every day, and every day he brushes his fingers over the yarn or through the fringe; a physical reminder of you.

Belphegor

(Unromanced)

This guy is probably the easiest one to make things for.

Is it soft? Is it cuddly? Can he use it as a pillow? Can he snuggle it like a stuffed animal?

Click “yes” on any of those questions, and you have a happy - well, a slightly less annoyed - Belphie.

Which is why you take this as a challenge. The easy answer - a pillow - is BORING. And the other easy answer - a blanket - would take WAY too much time.

So, like Levi, he gets a plushie.

But not just any plushie.

He gets a plushie of Lucifer.

Lucifer…..on a pastel unicorn.

Belphie starts cackling the moment he opens it, which is fair, because you laughed a fair bit designing and making it.

He starts leaving it where Lucifer can find it, then saying that the elder can’t do anything about it, because MC made it and there’s no way he’d want to harm anything made by MC.

Satan tries to steal it.

In the end, an “anonymous” Devilgram is created, dedicated to the “adventures” of this particular plushie.

It’s all fun and games until Diavolo wants one.

(Romanced)

Well, for your boyfriend, the time and effort involved in making a blanket is just fine.

You debate endlessly - comprehensive color scheme? Granny squares or stripes? How heavy?

You go with your gut instinct - this isn’t a boy who cares about color schemes or blanket styles.

(Just look at his clothes, seriously.)

He cares about one thing - comfort.

You find the softest, smushiest yarn you can, and a pattern you can tolerate working on for like 100 hours.

You go old-school; a granny square blanket like the ones that pretty much every person had thrown over the couch in the 70s and 80s. The perfect nap blanket.

Black… mostly black, with some bright accent colors. Kind of obnoxious accent colors, actually. You figure it’ll appeal to his (dubious) sense of humor. Also it’ll piss Lucifer off seeing it around the house, clashing with literally everything in the oh-so-perfectly-decorated Gothic interior.

This one requires….special enchantment.

A little bit of ritual, and that blanket will fold up into a tiny square; easy to carry from place to place.

Belphie is torn between wanting to carry it around everywhere, like his pillow, and to leave it in the attic room, always waiting for him.

Depending on his mood, he’ll do one or the other.

But no matter what, he also sleeps juuuust a little bit better under it, snuggled up under your love.

You make him the Lucifer plushie, too. It’s too funny not to :)

1K notes · View notes

lilliagradiewrites · 4 years ago

Text

go get her, kid. (peter parker)

Summary: Peter Parker is hopelessly in love with Tony Starks’ teenage daughter, and Stark encourages him to shoot his shot.

WC: 7.4k (holy shit)

Warnings: Bad language, , really nothing else. A lot of cute peter and a painful amount fluff. A tiny bit of angst too.

A/N: I found myself watching Tom Holland interview clips today and I just couldn’t help myself. Here we are: my first peter parker/ spiderman one shot! I have some Harry and Jj pieces in the works, so keep eyes out for that!

LET’S DO IT!!!

--------

Peter found himself in this position far too often. Staring at you shamelessly while you worked away at whatever was on your desk, usually a school assignment or some tech project. His crush had been going on for quite some time, but it was getting more and more difficult to hide.

You and Peter had been best friends ever since your dad first recruited him. Something clicked between the two of you, causing an instant friendship. As time went on, you grew closer and closer to the superhero, and he quickly became your best friend. You began surrounding yourself with his friends without even realizing it, becoming close with Ned and MJ almost instantly. They were great people, and you loved being around them, but something about Peter was just different. Your energies matched perfectly for some reason. He got your humour, liked the same things as you, plus he was a great conversationalist and an even better listener. Some of your favorite memories were made with Peter.

Despite knowing practically everything about the boy, you were completely oblivious about his huge crush on you. Ned was the only person who truly knew, though many other people had their suspicions. The Avengers had an idea about it, considering you were what he talked about 90 percent of the time. MJ could tell because of the way he looked at you. When he looked your way, his pupils enlarged, his cheeks went pink, and the look on his face was entirely lovey-dovey. It was so obvious just in the way he gazed at you when you spoke.

He was looking at you in that way now, though you weren’t aware. He was meant to be studying (it was the whole reason he came over to your house, or at least that’s the reason he told you), but he couldn’t bring himself to care about chemistry homework when you looked so damn beautiful. Your hair was pulled back into a low ponytail keeping it away from your face as you worked. Your hands flew across the keyboard on your laptop, typing out something Peter probably wouldn’t understand. He was smart, sure, but you were intelligent in a different way. You were insightful and observant, you got things other people couldn’t begin to process. Your brain understood things in a different capacity than most. Peter assumes you got this trait from your father, who was the exact same way.

“What’re you typing? Something for school?”

You nodded, your attention not wavering from the laptop screen. “Yeah, an assignment for AP Lit.”

“Oh, that one project you told me about? With the essay and the powerpoint?”

You nodded again. “Mhm.”

Peter furrowed his brows, moving off your bed to come stand near you at your desk in an attempt to get a better look at what you were working so eagerly on. “I thought that project wasn’t due for another month.

“It’s not. I had an idea for the essay, and I figured if I get started early, I have more time to edit and perfect it.”

“You’re such a perfectionist.” Peter says with a light chuckle, looking at the state of your desk. It was both chaotic and organized at the same time. Pens, highlighters, pieces of paper, a book with annotations scribbled in the margins, notebooks with neat class notes printed inside of them in your pretty handwriting. They were all scattered about the surface, but Peter knew you well enough to know that there was always a method to your madness. As you observed longer, he realized that all of the items were in different sections on your desk, based on categories and subjects. He smiled lightly, realizing that this messy but technically neat surface was probably a very accurate representation of what goes on in your mind.

You finished the paragraph you were typing with a flourish, a satisfied smile resting on your lips. “There. I have a basic outline done for the essay portion. Obviously, I’ll have to go back and add a little more and elaborate on the points, but the basics are there.”

Peter glanced up at your laptop screen. His eyes were met with a never ending sea of typed out words. He smiled; this was so you. Your ‘outline’ is another student's essay doubled.

“You’re gonna write more than that?”

You looked back at him, and he saw your face for the first time during the encounter. His cheeks went slightly pink at the sight of you, and he prayed that you didn’t notice.

You didn’t, or perhaps you just didn’t say anything. You continued on with the conversation without skipping a beat, and relief washed over Peter because of this.

“Of course I am.” You stated with furrowed brows, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This is so boring and basic, and has no detail whatsoever. Anybody who reads the summary of the book online could write this. I want my teacher to know that I thoroughly read and understood the novel, you know? I don’t want to submit some surface-level shit, I want to really pick apart the undertones of and the meaning behind the story.”

Peter nods, pretending to understand what you meant. He’d barely been paying attention to the words you were saying, too encapsulated with your beautiful eyes to do so. You turned back around towards your work, causing your best friend to snap out of his trance-like state.

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something? I’m bored.”

You had now picked up a pencil and a highlighter, working on the chemistry notes he was supposed to be taking. “Don’t you have work to do, Pete?”

“...No.”

You paused your writing to gaze at him skeptically.

“So you did your book report for english?”

“Yes.”

“Your worksheets for pre-calc?”

“Mhm.”

“You read the assigned chapters for Pschycology and finished the quiz you had to take on them?”

A nod was your only answer.

“What about chem? We have notes, essay questions, assigned reading, and a formulas worksheet due next tuesday. Have you done all of that?”

Peter hesitated for a moment. “Yes, I have.” It was a clear lie. “Can we watch a movie now?”

“There’s no way you did all of that. Go finish your work, and then we can watch a movie.”

A groan escapes Peters lips as he turns, resting against your desk. “But that’ll take forever. Your dad kicks me out at 11:00. We’ll never have time to watch one.” He whines.

You smile slightly, unable to fight it. Not replying to your friend, you spin around in your chair, raising your voice slightly, “FRIDAY, connect to dad please.”, the command directed to nowhere in particular.

“Connecting to Mr. Stark.” The familiar robotic voice echoes throughout your room.

“What’s up, Y/N/N?”

“Hey, Dad? Can Peter stay a bit later tonight?”

“Why?” Your dad’s voice replies through a hidden speaker, his tone almost accusatory.

“Because he wants to watch a movie but I won’t let him until we’re done with homework. We won’t have enough time to finish the movie if he leaves at normal curfew? Pleeeaseee, Dad?”

You can hear your father sigh. “Fine, but only because it’s not a school night and I’m feeling generous. He’s gotta be gone by one though, no exceptions.”

Both of you smiled widely, and you erupted in cheers. “Thanks, Dad!”

“Kid, be ready for training at eight. A later curfew doesn’t mean an exception from your early morning saturday sessions.” The statement was directed at Peter, who nodded, despite your father not being able to see him.

“Got it, Mr. Stark.”

“FRIDAY, disconnect.” You heard Tony’s voice from the other side.

“Disconnected.” The sound of the AI confirming the command filled your room, and the space fell into a brief silence once again.

You spun in your chair, turning to face Peter with a smug smile on your face. “There, now we can get our work done, and watch a movie. Satisfied?”

Peter nodded, giving a roll of his eyes and heading back over to his workspace on your bed, plopping down and continuing his assignments.

An hour and half later, Peter gave a heavy sigh, finally closing his textbook with a smile. “All done!” he announced proudly.

“With everything?”

“Yes, everything.”

You closed your notebook you’d been working in, standing up. “Great. I’ve been done for half an hour, I’ve been working on future assignments while I waited for you to finish up. Ready to watch that movie?”

Peter nodded excitedly. He loved watching movies with you, because you always cuddled up close to him on your bed while you watched. Peter loved being in close proximity to you, even though it made him a little nervous.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asked, beginning to clear his things off your bed.

“I don’t know. We can discuss while we go make popcorn.”

Peter’s eyes lit up; he loved popcorn.

“Okay!” He tossed the rest of his things in his school bag, zipping it up quickly and dropping it in the corner of your room. “Lets go!”

You chuckled at his childlike behavior, following him out of your bedroom door towards your kitchen. The entire journey down the stairs, down the hall, and to the kitchen was filled with Peter going on and on about movies he wanted to see.

You grabbed the microwave popcorn from the pantry, unwrapping it and tossing it in, starting up the machine.

You continued to listen to Peter as soft popping sounds filled your kitchen.

“Oh, you guys have Disney plus, right? What if we watched that new star wars show thingy? The mandalorian?”

You smiled at this statement. Though you didn’t see the boy in any way but a friend (at least that’s what you told yourself), you found Peter’s Star Wars obsession very cute.

“I mean, I would watch that, but I don’t think I’d understand it.”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve never seen the movies.”

You watched in amusement as Peter’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. “You’ve NEVER seen the Star Wars movies? Are you kidding me, Y/N?”

You laughed at his reaction, moving to fetch the fully popped popcorn from the microwave and transfer it into a bowl. “No, I’m not kidding. I’ve been meaning to watch them forever, but I guess I never got around to it.”

“I can’t believe this!” Peter exclaims in disbelief. “We’ve been friends for a year and a half now, and you’ve never seen the Star Wars movies? This is insane! I talk about them so much… did you just never understand what I was talking about?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “Nope, I never have. I kinda just let you talk about it, because I planned on watching the movies. I figured I’d understand what you meant when I watched them.”

“Holy shit… we’re watching the first one tonight, Y/N. No arguments, we’re doing it.”

You grabbed the now prepared bowl of popcorn, smiling at your friend. “Alright, let’s do it.”

You headed back up the stairs, the sound of your footsteps accompanied with the sound of Peter murmuring in disbelief as you made your way to your room.

Once the two of you arrived at your destination, you closed the door, placing the bowl of popcorn on your still cluttered desk.

Peter climbed into your bed, while you rummaged through your drawers in search of comfy clothes. “I’m gonna change into pj’s before we start, i want to be comfy.”

Peter nodded. “FRIDAY, put Star Wars: The Phantom Menace on Y/N’s TV.” He spoke out in a slightly raised voice. The movie appeared on your screen, waiting to be started as you changed.

A few moments later, you emerged from your bathroom, now wearing a pair of Nike shorts and a slightly oversized t-shirt.

“Y/N, this is about to change your li-” Peter’s voice trailed off as he looked at you. The oversized shirt you were wearing… was his.

He choked on the piece of popcorn he’d been eating. “I-is that my shirt?”

You looked down on what you were wearing, realizing that it was, in fact, Peter's. “Oh shit. Yeah, sorry. You left it at the lab once, dad gave it to me to give to you, and I guess it just got mixed in with my clothes. I’ll wash it and give it back.

Peter shook his head, coughing again. “No, it’s okay. You can keep it. It looks better on you anyway.” his cheeks went pink as he realized what had just left his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say the last part.

Your cheeks went even pinker at the compliment, which you couldn’t deny made your stomach flutter a little bit. “Okay, thanks.” You smiled at your friend, climbing into the bed beside him. You cuddled in close to him, probably closer than need be, but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“FRIDAY, start the movie.”

---

A few hours later, the credits were rolling, and Peter was red in the face. You had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and had moved even closer to him in your slumber. You were now full-on cuddling the boy, and he had no idea what to do. Your leg was moved over his, your head lay on his chest. One arm thrown around his waist. He liked having you this close, but his stomach was in a constant state of butterflies, and he was worried that the sound of his heart beating loudly in his chest would wake you.

He didn’t know what time it was, but it must’ve been close to one, because a knock sounded from the other side of your bedroom door.

Without waiting for an answer, Tony entered the room. “Alright, kids, it’s almost curfew, time to wrap it up…”

His eyes landed on you and Peter, cuddled up in your bed.

“Kid, what the hell is going on here?”

“Mr. Stark! Um, Y/N fell asleep while we were watching the movie and she kinda… I don’t know.. Ended up like this? Nothing’s going on, I swear, it’s just… I didn’t want to wake her up…”

Peter’s face was the color of a tomato at this point. Stark still had his suspicions about the boy’s intentions, but had a feeling that Peter was telling the truth. “Alright, then. You’d better get your ass home and get some sleep. Like I said, you don’t get a free pass from training because you were cuddling with my daughter till one am.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “No, Mr. Stark, I- We weren’t… I Wasn’t…”

Stark chuckled at the boy’s flustered state. “I’m screwing with you, Kid. Now get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you at 8 AM sharp at the compound”

Peter nodded frantically. “Yes, sir. 8 AM. Got it.”

Tony turned and left without another word, leaving Peter slightly panicked. Did Mr. Stark think that something was going on between him and Y/N? Would he be mad if there was? Peter didn’t know what to think, but he knew that he should probably leave before Tony decided to come back.

Peter climbed carefully out from underneath Y/N, setting her head gently on her pillow. He tried his very best not to wake her as he moved out of the bed.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you lots.” Peter whispered to his ‘best friend’, planting a sweet kiss on her forehead. With that, he slid your window open, climbing out of it and swinging his way home.

Peter was completely oblivious to the fact that Tony had been standing quietly outside your door when Peter said his goodbyes, and Tony saw the entire encounter. The ‘goodnight’, the ‘i love you’, the sweet forehead kiss.

Tony had his suspicions, but that night it was confirmed: his newest recruit had it bad for his daughter.

Strangely, Tony didn’t find himself terribly angry over it.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of your alarm blaring frustratingly loud. You groaned at the noise, picking up your phone to turn it off. The time on your phone screen read 7:00 AM. Groaning again, you pulled yourself reluctantly out of bed. As much as you hated getting up out of bed, you knew you had to if you ever wanted to complete your training. Your father had promised you that you’d get a spot on his team if you trained hard enough, and you were extremely determined. It had been your dream for years to become an Avenger, so you had been training your ass off for months to earn your spot.

This is how all of your Saturdays had begun for many weeks. An alarm going off at seven in the morning, waking you up to get ready for training at eight. It was a normal routine for you at this point, but for some reason the early wake up never got easier.

You moved about your regular morning routine, heading straight for your bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Once your basic hygiene was done, you brushed through your hair, changed into some clothes (your training uniform was at the compound), grabbed your phone, and headed downstairs.

You made a beeline for the kitchen, where your father was already making his morning coffee. When he noticed your presence, he gave you a tired smile.

“Morning, Y/N/N. Sleep well?”

Still half asleep, you gave an exhausted nod. “I shouldn’t have stayed up that late last night. I’ll yell at Peter when I see him. He always manages to convince me to let him stay late.”

For some reason, your father gave a light chuckle at your words. “I bet he does, sweetheart.”

Your brows furrowed at his statement. Something about his tone of voice didn’t sit right with you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, making your way over to fix yourself a cup of coffee.

Your father smiled smugly at you, passing over the coffee pot and a mug. “Nothing, honey. Be ready in fifteen.”

Still suspicious, your eyes followed him as he placed his coffee mug in the sink and moved from the room. Why was he acting like this? Did Peter do something last night? You remembered falling asleep halfway through the movie, not being able to make it through the whole thing. Had something happened while you were sleeping?

Deciding not to let it bother you, you pushed the interaction from your mind, focusing solely on fixing your coffee. You were barely functional without it, and you knew you needed to be fully aware for training. You had to prove to your father that you could keep up with the Avengers, and that you’d be a useful asset to their team.

You downed the coffee quickly, knowing you had only a few minutes left to get ready. When your father gave you a time warning, he always meant it. And, you knew all too well, he would leave you behind if you were going to make him late.

He’d done it twice before.

Once you had finished chugging the remnants of your coffee, you placed the mug neatly in the sink, right beside where your father had left his. The drink had been an instant pick-me-up, and you automatically felt more awake. You found yourself getting more and more excited for the day ahead of you. Though waking up early on saturday mornings was a pain in the ass, you did enjoy training. You got to exercise, learn about cool technology, and screw around with your best friend. What wasn’t there to like?

Now that your best friend had crossed your mind, you pulled out your phone to text him. You sent him a message every morning, or he sent one to you. It was just a thing the two of you did. Over the past year the two of you had been close, it became some sort of routine.

Y/N/N: morning spidey. u awake?

Within moments, he was typing out a reply. He always answered your messages quickly.

Spidey: yes i am :) ready for training? I’m gonna kick ur ass in sprints today

You chuckled lightly at his response. You and Peter had always been insanely competitive towards each other, and it really jumped out during training. Unfortunately for you, Peter usually won the challenges. You always blamed it on the fact that he had more experience and super strength; he blamed it on the fact that ‘you suck’ and ‘he’s just that awesome’.

Y/N/N: u can try, but idk how that will work out. I’ve beaten u in all of the other sprints for weeks.

Spidey: doesn’t matter. I’m showing out today

Spidey: bring ur a-game, irongirl.

You smiled at the message.

Y/N/N: always do, spiderboy

He started typing back immediately, and you knew exactly why. He called you irongirl to screw with you, so you had begun calling him spiderboy to get on his nerves. It worked every time.

Spidey: Y/N!!! It’s spiderman!!!

Y/N/N: spiderboy!!! It’s nova!!!

Spidey: ugh. Ur impossible.

You grinned widely. Your playful banter with Peter has always been one of your favorite parts of the friendship.

Y/N/N: but u love me anyways :)))) see u soon

Spidey: u better be glad i do. see u soon

You reread the texts, unable to fight the smile on your face. Everytime you interact with Peter, you remember how much you truly love him. Being an avenger, and the daughter of one of the smartest and most famous men on the planet, wasn’t easy. Peter was the only one who had a taste of the madness that was your life. Having him around was having a sense of normalcy, and so were incredibly grateful for him.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your voice being called from the front door of your house.

“Y/N! Time to leave!” Without hesitation, you locked your phone, slipping it into the pocket of your sweatpants.

You hurried towards the front door, not wanting to be left behind again. When you arrived, your father was already standing there, holding the door open. You gave him a smile and a quick thank you for holding the door, then made your way out. The driver was already waiting patiently in front of your house. This was one of your dad’s six drivers.

“Morning, Bernard.” You say kindly to the driver, climbing into the back seat of the range rover. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing wonderful, Y/N. How are you?” The older man replied. You really liked Bernard, he was one of your favorite drivers. He was an older man, in his mid seventies, and you found him to be the sweetest person in the universe. Sometimes, he’d bring you your favorite candy when he used to pick you up from school, and he was always so considerate and kind.

“I’m good. Tired, but good.”

The man smiled at your reply. By this point, your dad had finished locking up the front door of the house, and he climbed in the backseat beside you.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark.” Bernard said professionally to his new passenger, and your dad nodded as a reply.

“Morning, bernard.”

The conversation ended there between the two men. Your father wasn’t a very social person with people he didn’t know, and Bernard was aware of this fact. He mostly talked to you when you were in the car, and Tony went on his phone and did Lord knows what.

“How is Dorothy doing? Is she feeling better?” You asked the man as he began pulling out of your driveway. Dorothy was Bernard’s wife, and she’d gotten sick the week prior. Given her age, Bernard was very worried about her.

Bernard smiled at your question. “Much, much better. They released her from the hospital yesterday, she’s back home and doing great. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course!” You grinned back. “Did you ever find out what she had?”

“Pneumonia, just a very bad case of it.”

You nodded in understanding. “Well, I’m glad she’s better! I was worried when you first told me.”

The conversation continued, talking about anything and everything as you drove to the compound. He told you about his wife, his four kids and what they’re doing. His granddaughter had a baby a few days before, and he was extremely excited about it.

After a 20 minute drive, you pulled up to the building you knew so well. Bernard went to the normal procedure of getting through the front gates, and then pulled up to the front of the compound.

“Well, here we are.” Bernard announced, parking the vehicle. You and your father began climbing out of the backseat.

“Thank you, bernard. Tell your granddaughter I said congratulations!”

He wished you a kind goodbye, and then you were gone, leaving the car and heading towards the compound.

When you walked into the main section of the building, you spotted your best friend in the kitchen. You had to admit, he looked incredible, standing near an open window in the early morning light. He was already dressed in his sleek, black training uniform. It was tight against his body, showing off his muscled body. Sometimes, you forget how beautiful Peter is.

“You’re staring…” A singsong voice came in your ear. You whipped your head towards the voice to see your father walking away from you, smirking. You stood there, feeling slightly confused. Had you really been staring at Peter?

At times, you forget that Peter is only your best friend. The two of you act like an old married sometimes. You spend all of your time together, and you know each other so well.

Strange feelings you couldn’t understand had crept up on you before, especially recently. You couldn’t deny Peter was attractive, and he was a great person, too. How could you not love him? The issue is, you found yourself loving him in a different way than before…

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. You couldn’t be thinking about this right now, it’s not the place or time. Peter was standing right in front of you, and you needed to be focused for training.

You could process your feelings and emotions at a later time.

You began walking up to Peter, who was leaning up against the counter holding a cup of coffee.

“Morning, loser.” You said teasingly, greeting your friend. His head snapped in your direction, and he smiled when his eyes found you. (You thought you could see his cheeks go pink, too, but you forced yourself to ignore it.)

“Hey! How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.” You replied, leaning against the counter beside him. “I didn’t even notice that you left last night, I was really out. Did my Dad come in and tell you to leave?”

The pink in Peter’s cheeks darkened at your statement. Of course, this was the perfect time for your father to reenter the room. “Yeah, I did. He seemed very comfortable, but I kicked him out at one.”

Peter and your father were making direct eye contact. Your dad had that stupid smirk on his face, and peter was bright red.

You looked between the two of them, not knowing what to think. Before, you were just suspicious, but now it was confirmed: something happened last night between the two of them, and you were determined to find out what.

Hours later, you’re completely exhausted from training. You worked your ass off, and had successfully beat Peter in sprints.

“That’s right! You lost! How amazing is spiderboy now?”

Peter rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “Whatever, Y/N. I let you win.”

Your jaw dropped. “You did not! I won because I’m better!”

Peter just smiled at you. You took a swig of the water bottle in your hands, turning around to look at your friend as you did.

The sight you were met with was very sweet. Peter stood there, smiling at you with a look you could only describe as adoration. You looked back at him, a small grin resting on your face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The brunette boy says cheekily.

“Why are YOU looking at ME like that, Parker?”

You took a step closer to him, his eyes widening slightly at your movement. He said nothing in response to your question (though it felt more like an accusation), and you smiled again.”Got nothing to say?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Parker!” You jumped what felt like 20 feet in the air at the sound of Natasha’s voice, breaking up the little moment between you and Peter.

You stepped back away from him, and you couldn’t help but notice the sadness flash across his face before he turned to the other woman in the room.

“Yeah, Nat?”

“Tony needs your help in the lab. I believe his exact words were ‘he needs to be here in five or I’ll kill him.’ A few minutes have already passed, I’d start running if I were you.”

Peter’s eyes widened for the second time. “Oh, shit, okay. Thanks, Nat.” He turned his head quickly in your direction. “I’ll meet you in your room when I’m done, okay?”

You nodded with a smile. Peter planted a quick kiss on your forehead before jetting off in the direction of the lounge.

Grinning to yourself, you turned towards the sink, your back facing Natasha. You begin cleaning out your now empty water bottle, thinking over the previous interaction with Peter. You loved when he kissed your forehead.

“So, how long have you liked him?” You were so deep in thought, Natasha’s voice made you jump once again. When you’d fully processed her words, your cheeks went pink.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. I know you like him.”

“Like who?” Play dumb. That’ll throw her off your trail… right?

“Peter! Come on, you’re caught. Just admit it, Y/n, you’re making things harder on yourself.”

Finally, you sighed. Drying your hands on a towel, you turned reluctantly back towards Nathasha. “Is it really that obvious?”

The woman broke out into a grin at your words. “Of course it is! You two are hopelessly in love with each other. It’s almost hard to watch.”

Your cheeks went pink at her statement. “With each other? Oh, no. You mean I’m hopelessly in love with him. It’s not mutual. I’m just his best friend.”

Nat rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, come on! ‘Just his best friend’ my ass. He loves you, Y/N. He’s even more obvious than you are.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I promise you’re wrong.”

She looked at you pointedly. “I was right about you, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, but…” Your voice trailed off. You couldn’t argue with that. Nat grinned smugly at your reaction.

“That’s what I thought. Please confess to him when he meets you in your room later. It’s painful to watch, I can’t do it any longer.” And with that, Natasha was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Was it really thought obvious? Could everyone tell how you felt about peter? You could hardly even tell how you felt about him; the line between best friend and crush had been blurred for so long. If everyone could tell that you were hopelessly in love with your best friend, you would be incredibly embarrassed.

Even worse… what if Peter could tell that your in love with him?

You shook your head, as if clearing your thoughts. No. You couldn’t think like that. Of course he didn’t know; he would’ve said something.

Right?

Sighing, you walked off towards your room to take a shower, pretending you weren’t going to think of him while you were in there.

---

While Natasha was exposing your feelings, you were completely oblivious to the fact that Tony was doing the same thing to Peter in the lab.

When the boy walked in, Peter fully expected that he was being called for one of three reasons.

One: Tony had a new mission for Peter.

Two: Tony needed help with an experiment.

Or, three (the scariest option): Tony wanted to scold him for (albeit unintentionally) cuddling with his daughter the night before.

Peter could only be described as apprehensive as he walked carefully into the lab, where Tony was hunched over a table, working on something that Peter couldn’t see.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter spoke nervously, a timid way of letting Tony know of his presence. “Nat said you needed me. Is that true, or was she just trying to get rid of me?”

“No, no, I called for you.” Tony replied. He made a few last touches on whatever he was working on, then turned around towards peter. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Okay, option two is eliminated. Now, the question at hand is: will it be option one or three?

“Oh, okay. What about?” Peter said casually (or at least, that's how he hoped it came across.)

Tony gave a pointed look to the boy before speaking again. “My daughter.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly.

Shit, shit, shit.

Option three it is.

“Is this about last night sir? I swear I can explain-” Peter was quickly speaking.

But, before he could finish, Tony was cutting him off.

“This isn’t about last night, kid. I mean, it kind of is, but not really.”

Peter’s brow furrowed.

Unknown option number four?

“What do you mean, sir?”

“I saw what happened before you left last night. The forehead kiss, the ‘I love you,’ all of it.”

Peter was bright red in seconds. “Oh…”

“Do you love my daughter, Peter?”

The boy’s cheeks somehow managed to go a darker shade of pink.

“I-I uh.. O-of course I do, she’s, uh, she’s my best friend.” Peter stammered out.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “That’s not what I mean, Peter.” The man says, his tone borderline accusatory. “Do you love her, love her?”

Silence. Peter didn’t know what to say, so he opted for nothing at all.

“I already know the answer, Peter, so you might as well just come out and say it.”

Peter pondered his next move. If he played his cards wrong, this conversation could end in him losing his life. Tony Stark was not one to be messed with, especially when it comes to Y/N.

On the other hand, Tony Stark was not one to be lied to, either.

Peter sighed, accepting his fate. “How did you know?”

Much to Peter’s surprise, Tony gave a small smile. “I see the way you look at her, kid. I’ve looked at many girls like that in my day. That enamoured look. You're in love with my daughter, and I have some questions.”

“Questions?”

“Yes, questions, kid. Keep up.”

Peter nodded. “Alright.”

“How long?” Tony asked.

“How long…?” Peter didn’t understand what Tony was aking.

“How long have you been in love with Y/N! How long have you known?”

Peter looked away, breaking eye contact momentarily out of nerves.

When did he begin loving you? Now that he’s truly thinking about it, he can’t really remember.

Maybe it was the first mission that the two of you did together, back when you still known as irongirl. It was a bank robbery, an easy task that Tony had given for your very first mission.

Maybe it was that one time when you dragged him out of bed at 6 AM so that you could show him your favorite coffee shop.

Perhaps it was when you took that faithful mission to Asgard, when you gained your powers accidentally, earning your new title as Nova.

Or, it could be the time that you and him stayed up late binge watching a show he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you that night. You looked so beautiful that night, getting excited as something cool happened in the show. Your hair was tied back, wearing an oversized shirt, your face makeup free. He couldn’t help but smile as you laughed, and didn’t think he’d ever heard a more beautiful sound in the world.

Yeah, he thinks it was that night.

“Um… about ten months ago, I think? That’s when I realized, but I think I’ve loved her for longer. I just forced myself not to acknowledge it, I guess.”

Tony nodded in understanding. “I get that. What is it about her?”

Another question the boy had to think about.

“There’s a lot of things, I think. Like how excited she gets when she talks about things she’s passionate about. Oh, and the way she laughs when something’s funny in a movie or a show or something. And the way she sends me memes or videos that she thinks are funny. They’re usually not very funny, but of course I think it’s hilarious just because she sent it to me. And she always listens to me when I talk, even if I’m talking about something stupid and boring like science stuff I think is interesting. She talks back to me like she cares what I’m saying, and I know she probably doesn’t, but she acts like she does, and that’s enough. She always drags me out to go on adventures, or, at least, that’s what she calls them. Usually it’s just going to get coffee or try out some new restaurant she heard about but it’s still fun. She’s just so amazing, and I think she makes me the best version of myself.”

The rant ended, and for a moment, Peter forgot that Tony was even in the room.

“Damn. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m impressed, kid. To be honest, I expected some shallow answer like ‘she looks hot in her suit’ or something like that.”

“No, sir. Of course, she’s beautiful, but Y/N is just so much more than that.”

Tony gave another sweet smile to the boy in front of him.

“She likes you, too, you know.”

Peter’s head snapped toward Tony again.

What the hell did he just say?

“What?”

“Y/N. She likes you.”

“No way. She just sees me as her best friend. I’m probably like a brother to her. She doesn’t like me like that.”

“But she does, kid. I know my daughter better than I know myself. She is head over heels for you, spidey. Which is why you should tell her how you feel.”

“Tell her how I feel? Why would I do that?”

“Because she likes you, too, and then you two will be stupid kids in love.”

“Are you serious?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Peter paused for a moment. “I thought you’d kill me when you found out I liked your daughter, not convince me to go talk to her about it.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you, kid. I brought you in here with the intention of killing you, or just telling you to stay away from my daughter. But after you went on that little rant about why you loved her, I just couldn’t tell you to keep away from her. You really love her, kid, I can tell. So go talk to her.”

“You’re sure you won’t be mad if I ask her out?”

Tony shook his head and smiled.

“Go get her, kid.”

-------

Freshly clean and feeling a significant amount better, you sat on your bed scrolling on your phone. Thoughts of Peter had begun to fade (mainly because you forced them out of your mind) and that helped to keep you from stressing about what’s to come.

You had decided to confess how you feel to Peter.

True, this plan could ruin everything. Today could be the day you lost your best friend, and that thought made you want to cry.

But today could also be the day you finally get to kiss the boy you’ve loved forever, and that thought also made you want to cry.

You didn't have much time to think about it further, however, because Peter was knocking on your bedroom door.

“Y/N? It’s me. Can I come in?”

You paused immediately, your heart rating speeding up.

Oh, shit. This is it. This could be the beginning or the end of you and Peter Parker.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. It was now or never.

“Yeah, Petey, come on in.”

The door opened, and the boy you loved so much walked in. His cheeks were pink, you noticed. His cheeks only went pink when he’s nervous. Why was he nervous?

You could tell by his damp hair that he had also showered before coming to your room.

“I need to talk to you about something.” He rushes out.

Oh.

“Same.” is your reply. What else are you meant to say?

“Oh, really? Well, uh, you can go first. I’ll wait.”

You shook your head frantically. “No, you first. You said it first, so it’s only right that you go.”

Peter’s hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it. Another nervous habit of his.

“Can I sit down?”

You nodded. Why was he even asking? Usually he’d just plop down whenever he pleased, no questions asked. This behavior was very out of character for the boy you knew so well.

The boy sat down on the edge of your bed, and then took a deep breath. “Okay. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I just have to. I don’t want you to hate me, and I really hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, but…”

Peter paused for a moment, and looked into your eyes. They were brimming with concern, and he just couldn’t hold it back anymore. He broke the eye contact you’d been maintaining, mustered up all the courage he could, and then blurted it out.

“I’m in love with you. I have been for I don’t know how long. I wasn’t planning on telling you, because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but it was starting to get physically painful and I just- I can’t hide it anymore. I love you and I’m sorry.”

Peter clenched his eyes shut, unable to look at your face. He waited (very anxiously) for a reaction, but it never came. Eventually, he opened his eyes, gaining the burst of bravery it took to look at you.

Your jaw was dropped, the expression on your face unreadable.

Oh, no. No no no no no. He’d fucked up. He fucked everything up and now you were never going to speak to him again. He’d lost you. Damn you, Tony Stark.

“Y/N…” He began his apology solemnly. “I’m-”

But he never got to finish his sentence.

Because you were pouncing on him before he had the chance to.

You were on him within seconds, kissing him with so much intensity that he fell back on the bed. He was taken aback for a moment, but quickly kissed you back.

For a moment, the two of you just lay there, wrapped in one another, kissing like there was no tomorrow.

A kiss that made up for all the ones both of you had longed to have in the months before.

You pulled away gently, looking into Peter’s eyes.

“I have loved you for so fucking long, Peter. I was going to tell you that I loved you today.”

“Are you serious?”

You laughed lightly. “Of course I’m serious, you dumbass.”

“Hey!” Peter feigned offense.

You pecked his lips. “You’re a cute dumbass, though.” And then you were kissing him again, and it’s all you could’ve asked for.

----

After a while, the two of you had finally tired each other out, and now you sat cuddled against each other on your bed. No movie or show was playing; it was just you and Peter, listening to each other’s breathing and the sound of your heartbeats.

You looked up at the beautiful boy you were cuddling with, only to find he was already looking down at you.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out, Parker?”

Peter’s eyes widened, and his cheeks went red (for the millionth time that day.)

“Oh, yeah, I- I just thought- nevermind, uh- Y/N, will-”

“Yes, of course I’ll be your girlfriend, Petey.” You cut him off, saving him a few extra minutes of nervous stammering.

He smiled sheepishly at you, then leaned down to bring you into a kiss.

You cuddled back down into his chest, smiling warmly.

You can confidently say that right now, in this moment, you are the happiest you’ve ever been.

#peter parker #peter parker one shot #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker angst peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu

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duckprintspress · 4 years ago

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What is an Alpha Reader?

Stories don’t exist without writers - that much is a given. But the best stories are never a solo effort, even if they have only a single author. Other people will contribute, in big ways and small, and potentially fill many roles to help the author see the work through to completion. Three of the most prominent of these roles are:

Alpha readers

Editors

Beta readers

Each does something different, but often in fandom-based writing spaces they’re used interchangeably in ways that can lead to confusion and a mismatch of expectation and performance between the author and the person helping them. As such, Duck Prints Press will be doing a series of three posts over the next few weeks that discusses each of these roles in detail. The purpose of these posts is

to provide a definition of each role (alpha, editor, and beta)

list examples of services a person in each role might provide for an author,

provide insight into some appropriate ways for an author to interact with their helper, and

to suggest some points that an author and their selected feedback provider should discuss before the alpha/editor/beta begins work, to ensure that both individuals have a positive experience and that the helper is providing the kind of information that the author is seeking.

Two things of note before we proceed:

There is no single definition of these terms. We’re not claiming to be an authority or to say, “these are the correct definitions and all others are invalid.” Instead, our goal with these posts is to provide a common framework to help authors and individuals interested in helping them communicate about the nature of the roles to be undertaken, and to give information to help both writers and people who want to help writers understand what help is desired and how they can support each other.

If an author hasn’t said “I’m looking for an alpha/editor/beta,” then it doesn’t matter what form of feedback you provide - unsolicited alphaing, editing or betaing is generally unwelcome and often unhelpful. Yes, some authors DO like and appreciate it. However, most don’t. Never use these posts as, “now that I know what alphaing is, I’ve read your story and now I’m alphaing for you!” That’s not how this works. Alphaing, betaing, and editing are always collaborative, undertaken between an author and feedback provider that they’ve entrusted to help them. If you’d like to give feedback to an author about something of theirs you’ve read...ask them if they want it! And respect their response! It’s really, truly that simple.

What is an Alpha Reader?

Alpha readers are generally one of the first “outsiders” brought in to support an author, and, depending on how the author approaches their process, may be sought before the story has been written. The primary roles of an alpha reader are to brainstorm with an author, flesh out the plot, fill plot holes, solve conundrums and issues that arise, and help the author get their vision of the story put down in concrete words. Alpha readers may be recruited short term, to help an author work through a specific issue, or they may accompany the author from conceptual inception through the entire first draft or beyond - some may even end up credited as co-authors, depending on how many ideas they end up contributing! In fandom spaces especially, alphas are often described as cheerleaders, and in many cases, they are explicitly asked not to provide extensive criticism and editing - alphas work with the understanding that they have been brought in to help an author complete a first draft, and so the issues they help with are those more relevant to a work at an early stage of development.

Many people short-hand alphas by jokingly refer to them as “rubber duck debuggers,” inspired by the habit many computer programmers have of talking out a problem to an inanimate object until they figure out the solution. The idea is that alpha readers often don’t have to do anything - they just have to listen to the author until the author figures out the solution themselves! Sometimes, that’s truly all that an alpha will need to do, but don’t assume that’s all an alpha will do, and don’t play down the critical role that many alphas have played in the development of stories by giving timely, insightful feedback. An alpha can be invaluable in solving issues, seeing through thorny challenges, resolving points of uncertainty and confusion, and providing the author with the motivation, support and encouragement they need to see a first draft through to the end. Alphas are great, and are definitely not interchangeable with a rubber duck (however much we at Duck Prints Press love our rubber ducks).

Services/Responsibilities/Activities Associated with Alpha Reading:

Meet with the author to establish the scope of help the author would like. This post includes a thorough list of tasks often undertaken by an alpha reader, but it’s unlikely that an alpha reader will do all of these tasks.

Listen to and incorporate world building and character information provided by the author, and work to provide feedback that fits with what they’ve established.

Read an author’s notes or outlines to get a general idea of what the author is trying to accomplish

Discuss story elements with the author to whatever degree of detail and specificity the author requests.

Offer insight and ideas to help solve problems that the author approaches you about, within the scope of what the author has said they’re willing to change or modify about their story.

Cheerlead, praise, and support the author as they write their first draft.

Indicate sentences, passages, and/or chapters that work especially well, and those that lacked adequate explication for the alpha to understand what took place.

Point out issues with representation, areas where the author might need to do more research, use of racist or sexist tropes, and other aspects of the story that may be problematic. (Please remember to be careful of the difference between “this story contains problematic elements” and “this author is problematic.” Many authors intentionally playing with these elements. Also remember that alphas are not the same as sensitivity readers!)

Make sure to offer feedback on what is good and what you like!!

If given a full first draft manuscript to review, post-reading you may be given a list of questions the author would like you to answer, indicating specific areas that the author would like more information about and/or help with.

Very rarely, an author may ask for an alpha to edit for grammar, structure, word choice, and other technical elements. However, in “standard” definitions of alpha reading, these roles would be excluded.

Be honest and objective! Don’t say something is good if you don’t think it is, and don’t say something is bad just because you didn’t like it.

Understand that an author is never obligated to take an alpha’s advice!

Services/Responsibilities/Activities Associated with being an Author Working with an Alpha Reader:

Have a clear idea of what an alpha reader will be asked to do before recruiting one - ideally, any request for an alpha should include this information! Don’t just say, “I’m looking for an alpha reader” and assume that anyone who responds will understand that to mean the same thing as you do. Instead, say, “I’m looking for an alpha reader to help me with…” and indicate the specific area(s) that you’re requesting support for.

Don’t ask for feedback if you’re not prepared to be given feedback. Understand that requesting an alpha may mean opening yourself up to criticism; never forget that you invited them, so respect them and appreciate them. Don’t ask someone to alpha for you if you don’t respect their opinions and assessments.

Communicate your expectations and needs clearly.

Listen to the alpha reader and take their advice under consideration.

Indicate when you’ve reached a decision, so the alpha reader doesn’t continue to focus on a point that has been resolved.

Be kind and polite, even if ultimately you reject the alpha’s recommendations.

Ask clear questions directly related to what you’re trying to find out about what works and doesn’t work in your manuscript. Don’t try to be vague or passive to try to “get at” if something worked; it’s better to be honest and straightforward.

Employ multiple alphas to get different viewpoints.

Do not take criticism of the work as criticism of you as an author and person.

Respect the alpha reader’s boundaries.

Understand that the alpha is never required to agree with you, and may ultimately dislike your work.

Communication is critical! If both parties aren’t clear about their expectations and responsibilities, how can they effectively work together? It’s also critical to set and maintain boundaries. An alpha doesn’t agree to be “on call” 24/7. An author doesn’t agree to hear endless criticism of their ideas. An alpha should never be subjected to material that they’ve indicated may trigger them. An author should never be subjected to an alpha harping on a pet idea that the author has already indicated they don’t wish to use. If the relationship isn’t working for both individuals, it should be terminated. Furthermore, just because the relationship doesn’t work, that doesn’t mean either individual is “bad” at fulfilling their role; often, it’s simply a mismatch in communication and work styles. And that’s okay! Don’t bad mouth someone you failed to work effectively with...but also, don’t feel you need to keep working with them!

Suggested Questions an Alpha Reader and Author Should Discuss Before Working Together:

Not all of these will be relevant to every author/alpha relationship, but they’re worth being aware of!

Will the alpha reader be paid for their help? This is generally not relevant in fan spaces, but may be if the alpha is working on an original work destined for publication.

Will the alpha reader be credited when the final product is made public?

Will the alpha reader be expected to keep silent about what they’ve read, or perhaps even sign a Non-Disclosure agreement or other form of contract?

When is the alpha usually available? When is the author usually available? Will meetings be held regularly on a schedule, as-needed, or elsewise?

What software and/or accounts will the alpha be expected to use? For example: a specific word program, a gmail account, Discord, etc.

How will the author and alpha communicate primarily? For example, by chat program, by e-mail, by telephone, etc.

Is the alpha required to be familiar with other works in the author’s oeuvre?

Is there any potentially triggering material in the work that the alpha should be made aware of?

Does the alpha have any unusual triggers or squicks that the author should be aware of?

At what stage of the project is the alpha reader being invited in - conceptualization? Writing? Completed first draft?

What specific aspect(s) of the book is the author looking for feedback on? The plot? The characters? The pacing? If a specific line landed as intended? Is the dialog catchy? Is the world-building thorough?

Will the alpha reader be providing long-term help (eg, for the entire time an author is writing the first draft of a novel) or short-term help (eg, an author has gotten stuck at a specific point and wants to discuss only that with someone else)?

Is the author looking for someone to primarily listen to them and let them work it out on their own?

What are the main themes/tropes/elements/etc. the author hopes to communicate? It’s often best to discuss this after the alpha has read the work, so the author can see if they’ve succeeded, but it depends on when in the process the alpha has been brought on. If the alpha is helping develop plot and concept, it will be important for the alpha to understand upfront what the author is trying to accomplish.

Is the alpha familiar with areas relevant to what the author is writing? For example, if the story is fanfiction, is the alpha familiar with the franchise? If the story is in a specific genre, is the alpha acquainted with the tropes of that genre? If the story is in a specific setting - especially if it’s a setting with a high degree of technical specificity - is the alpha able to offer insight and knowledge to support accurately portraying that setting?

Does the author want criticism at this stage? (Usually, inviting an alpha implies the answer to this is yes, but don’t assume!)

Does the author want editing done? (Usually, inviting an alpha implies the answer to this is no, but don’t assume!)

Are there aspects of the story the author feels are “set in stone?” Are there aspects the author doesn’t mind changing, or would even prefer to change?

Is the alpha welcome to provide suggestions for developments outside the framework of storyline and world building provided by the author? For example, would the author be open to having the alpha say, “maybe you should create a new character to fill this role,” or, “maybe you should change the entire ending,” or would they prefer that the alpha work with the plot, characters, pacing, etc., elements that the author has already created?

Check in throughout the process - Is the way I’m doing this working for you? Is this feedback helpful? Are my responses as the author enabling you to do your work as an alpha? Do we need to change anything to ensure that this is providing the kinds of support that the author has requested? Talk to each other! You’re in this together. It’s okay if things need to be changed (in the story, in the relationship, in the communication style, you name it) - change them until you find a way to collaborate that works best for both parties.

You’ll see the common theme in all this advice is that the key to a successful alpha/author relationship is communication. Authors: be clear and honest about your project and your needs. Alphas: be clear and honest about your assessments and suggestions. Work together, not in opposition. Now, go forth and write things, and read things, and make amazing stories!

We’ll be doing two more entries in this series - What is an Editor? and What is a Beta? in the coming weeks, so stay tuned!

#duck prints press #writing advice #alpha reading #original content

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