#This is one guy against a couple of geniuses

[ladydisasterinthemaking]

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Danny couldn’t believe it. He graduated high school with better grades than he imagined. Everything was also falling into place. His parents had accepted him as a halfa, and nothing bad has happened for almost a year now.

Well, he graduated, yes, but his grades weren’t on his sister’s level. Still, it was something he was proud of. Between making sure that Amity Park is safe from ghosts, going to Clockwork every now and then, and making sure he doesn’t fail at any of his classes, the road to a diploma was a hard one. (Although for some reason, the number of ghost attacks had gradually decreased until his usual rogues stopped attacking. They still visit Amity Park, but only to talk, hang out, or spar with him. It was strange at first, but he eventually got used to it.)

And now, in a few weeks, he is officially moving to Metropolis for college to become an engineer. It wasn’t what his younger self wanted, what with wanting to be an astronaut (not that he could be one, after what happened to him in the lab), but it was something more than what he thought he could ever accomplish.

(The deal-breaker was his parent's promise to protect Amity Park. He would have stayed and enrolled at Amity Community College, but his parents told him to live his life to the fullest.)

To celebrate their milestones together, Danny, Sam, and Tucker, together with Jazz as their chaperone for the summer, have decided to go wander around Metropolis and its neighboring cities as 'tourists' (Tucker and Sam had decided to go to Metropolis University, too, with the former studying Computer Science while the latter would take Journalism), partly because they will spend the rest of their college years in the city, and partly because compared to the other cities, Metropolis was safer because of Superman.

That means they can go anywhere and not fight.

'Not my circus, not my monkeys', as the saying goes.

Then Lex Luthor and Superman decided to duke it out in front of the Daily Planet, while the four of them were caught in a bank robbery.

The large LED TV inside the bank showcased the man of steel fighting the billionaire genius as the robbers scare everyone into submission with their guns.

The four of them looked at the LED TV, then at the robbers, and came to a decision.

-

Superman was in the middle of fighting Luthor when he heard the cries of various civilians, and a couple of criminals demanding a bank to let them in their vaults.

Then he heard gunshots.

Fearing for the worst, he quickly defeated Lex, told the cops to ship him back to prison, and flew to the bank, just to see a floating white-haired meta and a teenage girl conjuring plants tying up and freezing the robbers. In the corner was another boy typing on a PDA, and a red-headed girl comforting the other people in the bank.

The four people in question froze upon noticing Superman.

Two large vines immediately snatched the redhead and the other boy, while the white-haired meta phased them down the bank's floor.

So much for the saying, 'Not my circus, not my monkeys'. 

 - 

(This is terribly written. I haven’t done my research. Sorry for the quality of this short fic.)

[knybits]

THE HATING GAME — 8

PAIRING —

↳ kochou shinobu x reader

SUMMARY —

↳ Geniuses within the same field yet rivals within each other’s eyes, your colleagues wonder when the sexual tension will break so that you two will become the department’s powerhouse couple so that they can enter you two into the couples contest against the other departments. Some things might have to be done by force.

WARNINGS —

↳ THIS IS ALL LEMON!!! SPICE UP THE WALLS!!! I'm not kidding guys this is just pure filth, every word of it.

[Navigation]

The face Shinobu makes when she cums is a sight to behold. 

You can vaguely remember it from last time, though you were pretty drunk the two times you sent her over the edge. It’s more like you remember the sound of her though. How could you forget the way her pretty mouth babbled incoherently, trying to string together a sentence with words other than your name, ‘please,’ or ‘fuck.’ 

You’re determined to see it and engrave it into your mind now, especially since you’re making sure she answers three questions. 

You’re still seated on the chair when you grab her by the waist, pulling her on top of you. Her nipples have perked up underneath her silk pajamas, and you rub a thumb over one. She shivers at your touch, and you can see that she’s a little irritated at how slow you’re going. 

You’re so happy that it’s a nightgown that ends right at her thighs. You’re even happier with yourself for not pulling a pair of underwear onto her last night, since that’s the way Shinobu likes to sleep at night. Ever the vixen. 

While your right hand goes up underneath to circle her right nipple, pinching and squeezing and flicking, your left thumb circles her clit. 

“Is this what you wanted?” You ask Shinobu, her pussy growing even more wet. You take two fingers and slide them across her cunt, and she takes a sharp breath in. 

“Yes,” she whispers, and you stop all movement. 

“Yes, professor,” you chide, and instantly you feel her drip onto your pants. 

She looks down at you, breathing heavily, but she keeps her mouth shut. Her face is red with embarrassment and you laugh to yourself. 

“What’s wrong? I see you worship every professor that walks into the lecture hall. Can’t do it for me?” 

She shakes her head, hiding her face in her hands, and you click your tongue in disappointment. 

“Shame. I’ll fix that.” 

You wrap an arm around her waist, lifting small frame into the air as you stand before turning and dropping her onto the couch instead. Then, once you’re on your knees, you duck your head under her nightgown and find her clit in an instant. Shinobu whines- yes, whines- aloud, grasping your shoulders for stability as her head lolls back. 

You’re lapping and sucking with desperation, tongue swirling around her clit as you find a rhythm. Her thighs squeeze your head and you can feel them shake a little before pulling back. 

Shinobu looks down at you with half lidded eyes, and you can see how frustrated she is that you’ve stopped. 

“The point is to make me cum, asshole,” she bites and you smile. 

“We have all day, relax. Such a brat,” you shake your head and Shinobu screams quietly in frustration. She runs a hand through your hair before tugging lightly and you chuckle. 

“That’s not going to work on me. But something else might.” 

Shinobu wants to smack the shit eating grin off your face right now, but her legs feel like jelly and she was so so close just a second ago and she wants you to talk to her. 

So she swallows her pride, bites her lip, then shakily says, “Please make me cum professor.” 

“Such a good girl,” you hum, then dive back in. This time you take your left hand and push one of her thighs up to get better access, hand clenching around the soft fat of her thighs. She yelps at the movement but switches to a moan once you get back to work, and she can’t deny how good you are with your tongue. 

With your other hand massaging her tit and your tongue sucking just the right way, it takes Shinobu 5 seconds flat before her thigh shakes in your hand and she screams your name. You grip her thigh a little tighter to keep her from moving as she writhes around a little, and you can tell that she likes it by the way she moans your name louder, slipping in a, “Shit!” at the end. 

Making sure to watch her face, you draw her orgasm out as long as you can, working her clit at the same pace and continuing to flick her sensitive nipple. And even when she slowly starts to relax from her high, you continue to diligently work. 

She gives a lazy hum when she’s done, tugging your hair a bit, but you give her tit a harsh squeeze to stop her. 

Shinobu’s face blossoms a deep red when you move from her clit to her cunt, lapping up the wetness that came from her first orgasm. Your tongue trails down even further, and you keep licking her clean, savoring her taste as you lick her thighs too. 

“You can stop now,” she chastises, and you shrug. 

“Just being thorough.” 

“I can’t believe you slack off on everything but sex,” Shinobu rolls her eyes before continuing. “Alright, what’s your first question?” 

You grin, “How far am I allowed to go?” 

She deadpans, “I can’t believe you wasted a question.” 

“Alright fine. I’ll make you cum four times then.” 

Shinobu can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, but she pales nonetheless. She knows for a fact that her body can’t handle cumming four times, but the look in your eyes says that you’re willing to rip it out of her no matter what. 

You thrum your finger on her thigh, patiently waiting for her to answer your question. When she realizes that this is 100% your question, she sighs and shrugs her shoulders. 

“Our safe word is bunsen,” she says, and your brain ignites with possibilities. 

Shinobu yelps in surprise, quickly turning to anger as she’s hoisted over your shoulder with minimal difficulty.  

“Put me down!” She cries and you laugh. “Good girls don’t give orders. They take them,” you sing to her and she lets out a small scream of frustration. 

“I swear to god I’ll- ah!” Shinobu moans in an instant when your finger finds a way into her pussy, already sopping wet again. You keep her there, body over your shoulder and her ass near your face. Your finger runs up and down her walls and she’s docile in a second, her mind running with pleasure. 

She’s aggressive again when you throw her onto her bed, but is smart enough to keep her mouth shut. She’s rubbing her thighs together, missing the digit that was just inside her, and you smile with glee. 

“Was one not enough?” You tease. Shinobu adverts her eyes, biting her lip as a war wages on inside her. Then, she mumbles under her breath, and you lean forward. 

“Sorry princess, I didn’t hear you.” 

“Please… Please fuck me… professor- fuck!” 

You plunge two fingers inside her small cunt this time, giving her no time to breathe as you curl your fingers vigorously. Shinobu’s grabbing onto your shoulders, her back arched as she chants your name like a mantra. Over and over again, all you hear is your name in her moans, and only your name. 

Shinobu is all yours, begging here for your fingers and your mouth. Your own little slut to praise and worship. Her body is a temple and it is your own to grovel at. 

And she can tell, too. 

Just the way your eyes search her own to make sure she’s completely at bliss. The way you use your other hand to gently wipe the bit of drool that slips from the corner of her mouth. The way you obey her commands of “Deeper, faster!” and still call her a, “Good girl,” just for taking it all. 

Purple is Shinobu’s favorite color, and you make sure to paint her neck with it. You suck and bite her collarbone, watching the bruises erupt before suckling at another spot again. And when she moans particularly loud, you make sure to spend extra time sucking before soothing the bruise with your tongue. 

You watch her face again, the way her eyes roll back and mouth hangs open, her walls spasming against your fingers the second your thumb swirled her clit. The high pitched screams of “Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” coming out of her mouth as Shinobu Kochou cums for the second time today. 

Your fingers, though cramping slightly, continue to curl as she slowly comes down from her high. You make sure to grab every ounce of pleasure from her so that she won’t ever forget what it feels like to be fucked right again. Maybe it’s your mission to ruin sex with other people for her forever, who knows. 

Shinobu tugs your hair again and you nod your head. Then she watches with wide eyes as you drag your fingers out of her pussy, the two digits gleaming with her slick, then pop your fingers into your mouth. She breathes heavily, watching your tongue swirl and giving her a good view of what you had done to her the first round, her body turned on again. 

Maybe she can hit a fourth orgasm. 

“What’s your second question,” she grumbles, turning her head to calm herself down. 

“Did you know it was me? That night in the club?” 

Shinobu tenses but she doesn’t say anything. She folds her arms across her bare chest, and you have to restrain your hands from grabbing her tits again as they push up at the movement. 

“...Yes, I knew it was you,” Shinobu mumbles. You open your mouth again but she cuts you off with a glare, “I answered the question.” 

“Fine, but I won’t be nice about this one,” you glare back. Shinobu’s own infamous glare would make any other person shrivel up and die, but you’ve held your own this far so you don’t back down. Besides, you meant your words as a promise. 

Shinobu almost puts up a fight against you when you take her hips and flip her over. Her protests are muffled when you push her face down into the silk pillows, then position her hips into the air. 

“What are you-” Shinobu pales when you reach for her nightstand and open the bottom drawer. She doesn’t know how you know about it, maybe she gave you a small tour of the drawer last time, but the drawer is proof in and of itself that Shinobu is not the perfect princess everyone claims she is. 

It’s proof that she’s a dirty little whore. 

“Remember,” you pick up the first toy, clicking it on and watching it vibrate to life. “The safe word is ‘bunsen’.” 

---

WHEW ok so this isn't the last chapter like i said it would be. i got carried away and wrote too much so i had to split this into two. i also did NOT edit this so sorry if it's kinda all over the place.

however, next chapter IS the last chapter. half filth then half closing remarks lol.

it's also MAINLY pleasuring shinobu because this is still technically a gender neutral reader fic, so i did my best and had to regroup and make sure i stayed true to that. yes i DID make you the top but only bc shinobu tops in literally every day to day situation, just not here hehe

[bunny-dr34ms]

youth is a storm - bffs!g.suguru g.satoru i.shoko x f!reader

summary. one night you see a picture of your high school friends and you think back to your youth as you reminisce how wonderfully catastrophic it was

w.c. 2985

cw/ tw; fem!reader, angst, underage drinking and smoking, irresponsible students, family issues, neglect, bully kind of,

features; g.satoru, g.suguru, i.shoko

an; i hope you guys enjoy this !! i think the trio in their youth must've been fun <3

You love bad ideas.

And no one knows that better than your 3 best friends who were always part of each reckless plan. That's why the 4 of you are getting wasted on the beach. Tonight's scheme is a last hurrah before you officially say goodbye to your high school days.

"I'm so glad I have you guys with me." You giggled after you took another swig from some fruity beer. "Let's be friends forever!" Suguru chuckled behind you, turning his hand to take a deep inhale of his cigarette. He sat on a plastic chair with you in his lap, his arm hanging lazily behind him. The boy barely fit in the chair with how large he was so he had his legs spread wide and had you lean against him.

"Yeah yeah whatever you say sweet thing." Satoru chimed in waving his hand around, a blunt sticking loosely in his fingers. He was manspreading in a similar chair next to you with dark glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose. The way his blue eyes drooped and the way his words slurred told you he was starting to feel it.

Shoko sat under Satoru and had her head resting against his leg, her hand reaching for the lighter as she lit another cigarette. "The school must be glad to get the lot of you out." All of you couldn't help but laugh as 4 years of memories flooded your minds. It really would be nice to stay friends with all of them.

4 misfits that didn't fit in, even now with each other. Satoru and Suguru were basketball jocks who cared for nothing but themselves. Shoko was one of the smartest people in school, even with her hobby of cigarettes and beers. Then there was you. A ditzy cheerleader that would wreak havoc wherever you went. The sound of ocean waves was soothing in the background and you closed your eyes and began to think back.

You first met them in the first month of freshman year, under the bleachers during late hours in front of the school. You just came back from an away game and didn't want to go home so you took the time to smoke a cigarette. Unfortunately, you realized you finished your pack before the game and sighed in defeat looking at the empty box with save for your hello kitty lighter.

All of a sudden, you hear muttering and loud whispers a couple feet away from you. You walk a little closer, trying to stay in the shadows so you didn't get caught for eavesdropping. "Are the both of you idiots? You bring blunts without a lighter?" "It was Satoru. My job was just getting the goods." "You- Stop blaming it on me like you didn't lose your lighter." "Oh? So where's yours?" "In your fucking mom's hou-" "Wait shut the fuck up- I think someone's here."

It went silent and you become hyperaware of yourself. Unknowingly, you kept moving closer and closer to hear what they were saying. Your hot pink glitter lighter that you pressed against your chest with both hands reflected the light back which got you caught.

"Hey. If you let us borrow your lighter, I'll give you one."

Your upperclassmen stepped out of the shadows. There was three of them and the girl was offering a box of Marlboro Reds that only had one stick left. There was already one in her lips, her expression nonchalant with dark circles under her eyes. You know her as one of the geniuses of the school who's won a couple awards for science.

Behind her were two infamous basketball jocks known for their looks and immense skill. They looked at you with strained expressions. You heard how they weren't fond of people they didn't know. They glance at the lighter clutched in your hand and their expression changes slightly for the better. The boy you know as Satoru leaned forward with a smile and said, "You heard her. Let us use your lighter and you get a free cig!"

You think about and nod gratefully while you hand her the lighter. You would've gave it to them even if they didn't give something back anyway. "Really!? You're a life saver Ieiri!" All you knew about them was their name and somethings about what they did. Shoko was that she was a total science nerd and wanted to be a doctor. Satoru was a rich tease that became has a talent for anything he did. Suguru was a ladies man with brains, brawn, and money. You knew the three of them but you didn't think they'd all be in one group. "How'd you know I smoke though?"

“Under the bleachers was a popular smoke spot for students and teachers alike but it's not like you can tell who smoked what when.”

You watch as the boy pull out blunts from a tin to light up with your lighter. Satoru catches you staring and smirks with the roll between his lips. Embarrassed, you can't help but blush and look away. "Ha! You think you're sneaky when you smoke a couple feet away from me? Plus only cheer girls like you smoke Pianissimo." Shoko laughs as she hands you your lighter so you could light yours up. You almost cough at the bitterness but you choke it down before exhaling out grey.

"What? Red too strong for you?"

"As if."

There was a haughty tone in your voice but rasp contradicted your claim. Now even more embarrassed, you tugged your bow and tousled your hair, feeling your scalp tingle from the release of the tight pony tail. You combed your hair as you looked at the girl next to you who tapped the ashes from the her cigarette. "Sooo..Why are you here at school?"

Shoko shrugged inhaling through the cigarette and exhaling her answer. "Studying." Your tilted head and confused look was enough question for her. "Can't study at home. I can't focus there so I sneak around and stay at school."

You continue to stare at her and nod. You knew how that felt. To not want to go home, or rather the house where only chaos ensued. "I don't wanna go home either." You whispered, not taking your eyes off Shoko. "Umm..if you don't mind me asking. Why do you smoke such strong stuff? It's not like it's cheaper or anything." Red is actually way more expensive and hard to get as a student. Even as you asked your question, you couldn't stop your eyes from wandering to the two boys smoking weed. You thought you had it bad, but these guys are on a whole different level. A sudden wave of sadness sends a sharp ache in your heart. Were they like you? Hiding away in the night to find an escape from what was supposed to be a home? Did they also try to smother every emotion they felt in an attempt to be at least wanted?

The brown haired girl hummed her eyes closing for a second. "Anything not as strong as Red doesn't do anything for me anymore." She finally turns to meet your gaze. To her you look like a barely kept together mess. You hair and make up being pulled together with the tidiness of your cheer uniform. But your eyes, round eyes full of emotion and empathy. Something about your eyes makes her want to say more. "I smoke and drink because it's all my parents ever do. I tried it and I get it now."

"So? What's your deal?" She leans against the pole to her side allowing her to face you. Now you look away. "My mom has a scumbag husband. My dad has a cheating wife." It's not the most tragic story ever but both of your parents are so wrapped up in each other, they forget you exist. Or that you exist as their daughter and not their personal trauma dumpster.

Satoru looks at you from the corners of his eyes. He sees just how lonely you truly are because he can understand. in a way. He can understand how hard it is to be so devastatingly lonely even after working to get attention from everyone but the people you need it from the most. So that's when Satoru decides that you are worthy to be one of them.

He stares and stares until you turn and make eye contact with him. "You know, my parents hardly ever see me. They just tell me to make an appearance once in a while when their friends are over to show me off like I'm some prize they won." Satoru begins to ramble about his parents. He goes on and on about how they're always at work and no matter what he did they'd never spare him a glance. No matter how long he studied or what grades he got, nothing could win them over.

All you could do was sit there stunned and watch as Satoru explained wildly with his hands and expressions. When he comes to a close he looks deep into you and says, "I know what it's like, to be lonely but not alone." The sudden change of tone made your breath catch in your throat.

Suguru sighs and you realize he's been sitting there silently as Satoru went into detail of his life. He must've had to hear it a couple times already. He fixes his hair awkwardly and sighs again, "That's Satoru's way of making you feel better." You nod and you wonder if you're supposed to say thank you or ask if he's alright or tell him he's strong for growing through it all. Suguru cuts through your thoughts before you could say anything.

"I'm a little like that too.. My family is too focused on business to pay attention to me. They think I'm already a lost cause and they put everything else into my older brother. Not that I care much anyway."

A few moments of silence pass, the only sound being the four of you blowing smoke into the night. It was comfortable. Once the sticks burn away to nothing you smile at Shoko, the the two boys.

Has there been anywhere you’ve felt so safe? Or so at ease? Or so at peace with yourself? You turn to the and smile, your arms pressed a little awkwardly into your side.

“Can we..be friends?"

Shoko laughs quietly.

"Shoko. Call me Shoko."

“Hey if you call her Shoko you’d have to call me Satoru!”

“As if she’s calling you Satoru. She’ll call me Suguru before that happens.”

That night ended with a conversation that you so needed. Over cigarettes and blunts, you finally found friends you could cry to without judgement and they’d found someone that truly lightened the weight on their heart.

Ever since then, you and them were inseparable. Classmates whispered and gave the four of you odd glances but no one cared. You didn't need your fake cheer friends anyways. Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru were enough. Suguru held you while you cried. Shoko knew what you smoked and what you drank. Satoru listened as you blabbered on and on about what your mom did or what you dad said. You were enough too. You always went with Shoko on her late night studies and library runs. You always saw through Satoru and made him feel safe to spill whatever he needed to you. You kept Suguru company every time he needed to take hit late at night from stress.

They needed you as much as you needed them

And from then on, it was the four of you against the world. You stared at the picture in your hand with a soft smile. Those really were the times. So many bad decisions and mistakes were made but you were happy. Every night was hectic and you remember crying almost every day. The worst memories you had were fighting with your friends just to make up a couple days later. Underage drinking and smoking definitely caught up to you so you quit in college with just a few drinks here and there. Satoru quit with you actually. The stability of college was hard to adjust to but you worked hard because it was a chance given to you by Satoru and Suguru. There was no chance of getting into such a prestigious college with your record without their help. To be fair, those two were there by your side when you stole from small convenient stores and violated multiple property rules. Shoko was often busy with actually studying so whenever you had a terrible idea to execute, you'd find those two. They'd do anything with you and for you. You had a bit of a crush on the both of them back then and you'd like to think they liked you too. You couldn't help it with how they flirted with you and were so overprotective of you. You'll never admit it but if one of them asked you out now, you'd say yes. Your youth was a tornado of emotions and experiences that you wouldn't trade for the world. It was heartache and joy and liberating in all the ways it counted. It was your friends and your torn apart family. It was going to school late and leaving early. It was cramming to pass and skipping practice. It was lying on rooftops late at night with smoke and booze. It was running in the rain and yelling into thunder and laughing at lightning. Your youth was a storm.

It's been almost 7-8 years since then. Now you're all adults working on your own separate careers. Satoru and Suguru have been handling their own branches of their respective family businesses. Shoko has become one of the best surgeons in the prefecture. There's just you left.

Since then you've always thought about what you really wanted to do. You've wandered and dabbled in everything but nothing seemed to appeal you. Plus, you're not the same girl you were in high school anymore. You can't just run away from things you don't want to face. The world isn't as forgiving or as colorful anymore. Dark, lonely nights like tonight would still seem to glow back then. Not anymore, it seems. As of now, you work a nice modeling job for cosmetics. You were always pretty to look at and once you finally started investing in your face, modeling offers just came to you. You go around and take a few pictures for ads and magazines every once in a while. It pays well and it's comfortable. Parts of you still crave the rush of running around town late at night, drunk or high or both. The other part is grateful for the life you have now. You get to wear expensive clothes and drink expensive champagne in a expensive home. Younger you would look at the you now with stars in her eyes, you think. Leaning against the railing of your balcony in your apartment flat, you stare out into the night. The city below you was still bustling with life and bright colors. You take another sip of the fruity alcohol in your hand. Each sip makes your heart beat a little faster.

And your view of the city is pretty. The doorbell rings and you hear the door click open. "Y/n? You in there?" "Hey let me in first." "Shut up and just hold this." "No- what the fuck why would I hold it?" "Oh my god can both of you shut it? Y/n? You there?" The chorus of fighting and yelling of familiar voices makes your smile widen. You walk to greet them and their arguing takes a pause when they see your expression. They weren't used to your silence or the smile that came it with it. "What's wrong?" Shoko speaks first as she walks to you, her hands reaching for yours. Satoru and Suguru push through the door together and join you with curious and confused faces. It's been a good week or two since you've all gathered like this. Conflicting schedules and just being worn out kept you guys from meeting any sooner but tonight you suddenly texted them asking to see them. Seeing all of them now, worried for you and here for you because you asked made you want to cry. These are the people you grew with. The people who you cried and laughed with. These are the people who are always by your side no matter what happens. They are your home. You can't help but pull them into a hug. Your face was probably red and hot from alcohol. The room felt like it was swaying under your feet as you took a deep breath. Their arms wrapped around you tightly and you closed your eyes. The picture and your drink sat on a small table on your balcony. Your smiling and carefree faces with arms wrapped around each other was immortalized in that photo. You're no longer the girl in that picture and your friends have changed too. But that's okay. You'll continue to grow with these people by your side. It's fine to live in the moment as adults too right? "Y/n?" Satoru calls out your name, pulling you out of your thoughts. You pull away from them and you realize you're teary eyed. Yeah, you're all adults now and your youth is far behind you. It's okay though. Life is different but you still have them. You'll continue to walk through each moment together. You wipe your tears and Suguru rubs your back to comfort you. "Y/n..did something happen? Is that why you called us here today?" You shake you head with a smile and when you look back up at them, you swear for a minute you can see their high school selves stare back at you. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Either way, it was them here. That's all that matters. "It's nothing. I just missed you guys. That's all."

[haru-naechi]

Second Rant: The Villainess/Mob/Side Character/ Random Girl Who Wakes up in a Novel She Read

Whoopie! Reincarnated to a novel/game, an interesting concept really. Seeing how there is already a pre-determined story to follow, I do wonder how they'll go about this.

*Several reads later*

Oh boy. They can't really think of anything else can't they?

Okay so, one thing I really really like genuinely hate about these stories is how the mc always acts so dumb. Like, girl, come on, I think for the past few years you've been in this world you ought to think that things develop.. idk NaTurAlly? Why do you keep saying that "things are changing" like no shit things are changing, you've changed and that's practically gonna cause a ripple effect on everything.

Oh, oh, and I hate it when ml is like obv showing feeeeelingsss but mc is just: (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠). "No OmG tHaTs NoT PosSIblE, cu'Z he'S supPosEd to FalL foR ThE OrigINaL FL!"

Fuck it even when the ml admits his feelings the girl is just like "no".

It's frustrating to me because authors tend to develop these ladies as quick thinkers and determined, always trying to find ways to avoid death flags set to them. But then they do those aforementioned things and it kinda makes you think how shallow they are. It's like they don't see the relationships they build as real ones and are all just superficial for specific reasons.

I understand the concern when you feel like you're trying to fight against fate but most of these stories don't even actually have that. Things do change and usually nothing terrible happens, but mc acts like there will be even though the author clearly only puts "horrible" things as plot advancers and nothing too serious.

Also, for those mc that woke up in their new body with a shit reputation paired with what everyone knows has a shit personality, why is everyone just okay with her changing all of the sudden — like its just plain stupid. If I knew someone who is evil suddenly becomes good overnight, I would not only be sceptical but also assume that she's possessed (seeing how magic always exists in these worlds i don't that's too far from the realm of possibility right?). This one honestly is what bugs me the most.

Suspicion is removed cu'z mc does something heroic or wonderful (blegh), but that kinda undermines the suffering other people have gone through with the original character. Some authors have even shown fully blown flashbacks where the original character is violent, verbally abusive and typical in every possible way. And these people just, flips a damn switch and say "Oh! She's changed!" Which boggles my mind every time I read something like that.

Which puts me to my next complaint. There is no real villain or even when there is they aren't really appealing. The problems set by the "original" story already gets destroyed like a couple chapters in, so what next? There are quite a lot of stories that just turn the OG Female Lead into whatever the villainess is supposed to be like: delusional, fake, etc. Which to me is, fine, but if you're gonna turn someone else in that world into a villain for the sake of having a bad guy, then why not put the stakes higher? Or at least give them more of a reason than just them feeling entitled to have the boyz. They don't have any substance to them and are bland af. Its a story vying for a downfall you already know will come.

Overall these ladies think too much and too little at the same time. Istg their dialogue can be summarized into "That didn't happen" "This didn't happen in the original.." "Is there a bug in the game..?" or "Why are things not going as the orignal!?"

It burns my brain trying to see through their eyes and understand their logic, until you realize they don't have common sense at all. They are geniuses only when they need to be, but is dumb af everywhere else.

Also, as much as I love puffy, frilly dresses I'm tired of mc changing the og characters seemingly sexiness into this cutesy vibe doesn't sit well with me. They're obviously trying to put this as more of a visual dichotomy between the original character and the current mc, but its not much of a statement. (But honestly this just may be me because I want more sexy mc you know?)

Trust me when I say this post barely covers half of what I truly feel about these stories and this is just the general gist of it. Also couldn't be bothered to add specific titles like the last rant.

[dc418writes]

•Close Call•

Summary🪄: Brynn and Ali’s planning session nearly gets discovered; Ari nearly has a heart attack

⚠️: pretty much all fluff, mentions of puberty and all the fun stuff that comes along with it, mention of porn (just the word though)

A/N🎙: A quick, funny (at least to me) idea I had including the Operation: Rekindle girls! Hope you guys like it☺️!

“Okay if we’re gonna get mom and dad back together we need a plan,” Aliana states opening Ari’s laptop. Good thing he was at work pretty much all day so they could openly brainstorm ideas and research what they needed.

“And to do that, we need to know how to get couples back together,” Brynn adds sitting beside her with a large bag of hot fries—how they could comfortably and willingly eat them Ari would never know. There’s silence as both just look at the colorful Google page peering back at them. The cursor blinking in the search bar as they munch and occasionally scratch their respective heads.

“Anything?”

“Nope. You?,” Ali asks.

“If you don’t, you know I don’t. Somebody should’ve figured it out though, all this time.

Quickly swiping her hands on her shorts dusting off the remaining hot flakes, Brynn’s slender fingers carefully tap against the black keys before she’s hitting enter and receiving thousands of hits. Majority of them links to articles from magazines while some were book advertisements guaranteeing to help with a successful marriage and relationship.

“If couples are experiencing more arguments and disagreements than usual, therapy sessions with a certified marriage counselor/relationship expert may be needed and are highly encouraged. They don’t argue though, so I doubt they need therapy.”

“And I’m glad they don’t. I don’t have enough birthday money saved to pay $150 per session,” Ali states lightly pushing her sister’s hands out the way so she can type.

“How..to get…people..together…that should be,” she reads aloud hitting enter. “Party planning? No. Planning an event with a large group of people…no, why do all these things keep talking about planning a party?! That’s literally nowhere in what I typed in.”

“Wait here’s something. How I got my two ‘obviously in love with each other’ friends together bingo! We have a winner,” Brynn excitedly shouts high-fiving her equally excited sister.

“Okay so first she says she invited them both to a group hangout and made them sit together.”

“Alright..we could invite mom out with us sometime. Or even just to come over and hang out?,” Brynn suggests.

“Right! Like for movie night!”

“Where we could watch her favorite movie…”

“Which is My Big Fat Greek Wedding!..,” Ali bounces holding onto Brynn’s hands. Neither one caring about the crumbs remaining on the other’s hands.

“Which also happens to be the movie they watched on one of their dates we’re geniuses!,” Brynn adds in a rush of words causing both of them to squeal.

It was a fool proof plan already! Surely leaving both of them alone to watch such a mushy romantic comedy would have them reminiscing on happier times and missing each other so much they’d have to at least think about getting back together.

“Okay so we got step one, what’s next?”

“Girls?,” Ari knocks startling Ali and Brynn so, they nearly knocked over the laptop and bag of chips.

“Um h-hold on!,” Ali shouts as she quickly slaps the computer shut and Brynn hides her Captain America notebook that held the beginnings of their plan. “Okay, come in!”

Both try to appear as if they weren’t up to anything, flashing nervous smiles while one lied on her stomach kicking her feet and the other sat against the headboard. Stepping into their room, his dad senses are on alert having seen that “innocent” look on their faces before.

“Hey dad! W-We thought you weren’t getting home until seven?,” Brynn asks.

“We were short staffed, so I decided to close up early. What were you guys up to?”

“Nothing,” both answer with a shake of their heads. Quirking his brow he steps closer noticing his laptop at the foot of Brynn’s bed and the prominent fingerprints along its surface.

“Hm…needed the laptop today?”

“Yea we were just uh…searching…stuff.”

“Okay.” That wasn’t suspicious at all. “Mind if I-?”

“No!,” they both shout causing their father to tilt his head with hands on his hips.

“Um n-not yet we mean!,” Ali quickly corrects nervously laughing with Brynn nodding beside her. “We’ll be done by tomorrow morning. Promise.”

“Now why would they need to be so secretive?,” he thought. His birthday and Father’s Day had passed. Their mother’s birthday wasn’t until later in the year, and he was sure they weren’t Christmas shopping seeing that they still depended on the both of you to do so. With no other events that warranted presents coming up, his heart nearly drops at the only other explanation that he could think of.

He knew this day would come, but this early?! His babies were only 11! Ari was sure he had three more years at least before this came up.

“Alright, this is fine. It’s not, definitely not, but hey this is part of being a dad. I’m highly capable of having this conversation with my daughters…I swear if some big headed boy is trying to pressure my angels their bodies will never be found.”

His throat feels impossibly dry—contradicting his sweaty palms—pulling the chair from the desk in the corner so he can sit near his precious girls. It feels like you both were just bringing them home in their little car seats and swaddled in matching pink blankets.

“Look guys,” he sighs raking his hand through his almond strands, “I know you’re growing up and your body is going through…changes.”

“D-Dad?,” Ali asks exchanging confused glances with her sister.

“Which is completely normal! Everybody goes through this at some point. Some early and some a little later, but either way it’s a confusing time that comes with a lot of questions.”

“Dad.” Brynn tries, but Ari’s dead set on finishing his speech.

“This is probably weird and uncomfortable, but I want you guys to know you can always come to me or your mom okay? And we prefer you do when you’re probably gonna be tempted to look up things which will lead to…um…pictures a-and videos possibly-,”

“Dad we’ve already had the sex talk,” Brynn announces.

He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or even more worried hearing that.

“You have?”

“Yea, a little after school let out mom sat us down and said that since we’re going to middle school, and becoming young women, we needed to have an ‘important conversation’.”

“Oh,” he smiles feeling his shoulders relax just a tad, “t-that’s good to hear.”

“Wait…did you think we were looking up porn?”

“What?! Nooo nonono I just..um…h-how do you know about that though?”

“Mom, again. She told us how those are movies only for adults and that if anybody tried to show us anything, we should run away and tell someone,” Aliana answers.

“Preferably a trusted adult, you, or her,” Brynn adds causing Ari to lean forward in the rolling chair with hand over his heart as he releases a harbored breath. Just when he thought he couldn’t love you any more.

“And she’s completely right. Listen to your mom, she’s the smartest woman in the world.”

“And the prettiest, which clearly explains us,” Ali states. Both flipping their curls over their shoulders while Ari deeply chuckles.

“Hey I helped a bit in that too, okay? But you’re not wrong though.”

Their quiet giggles nudging each other’s shoulder is for more than their father’s feigned hurt.

“Well, now that we’ve cleared that up I was thinking tacos for dinner. Sound good?”

“Mhmm,” they nod.

“Great!,” he claps his hands before standing to return the chair to its appropriate spot. “I’ll go ahead and get things started, you both wash your hands and come down after.”

“Got it.”

“Love you guys.”

“Love you too.”

As soon as he’s on the other side of the door, all three are chuckling to themselves and breathing sighs of relief at quite possibly the most awkward moment they’ve encountered yet. They also hope to never experience something so nerve wracking again.

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[hoperenae]

Turning Heads (a Haikyuu fanfic by hoperenae)

PREVIOUS — SERIES MASTERLIST — NEXT

PART 18- Boys

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I met the first-year VBC boys at Kageyama’s house. He and Hinata were hopeless when it came to English, and Yamaguchi’s math skills could use some work, so Tsukki and I agreed to help them study (although saying Tsukki agreed was a bit of an exaggeration; he was coerced).

Kageyama’s mom directed me to his bedroom, and when I opened the door, I wish I could say I was surprised by what I saw. Hinata, Kageyama, and Yamaguchi were crowded around a computer watching a volleyball video, and Tsukki was sitting on the floor propped up against the bed, headphones on and ignoring the rest of the world.

“You guys were supposed to start the practice tests before I got here,” I sighed, closing the door behind me and shaking my head. They all jumped when I spoke, and Kageyama quickly closed the internet tab and wheeled around in his desk chair, like he had just been caught watching inappropriate videos.

“We were just about to start,” Yamaguchi stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m sure you were,” I chuckled. Even after the long day I’d had, these boys always knew how to make me feel better.

“Tsukki,” I said, tapping him on the shoulder. He looked up from his phone, finally seeming to notice my presence, and took his headphones off.

“What?” he grumbled.

“You were supposed to get them started on the practice tests so I could go over what they got wrong.”

Tsukki shrugged. “What’s the point? It’s not like they’re gonna become geniuses overnight.”

“We don’t need geniuses, just passing grades.”

“Even that will be a miracle. Those two,” he pointed at Hinayana and Kageyama, “don’t have any space left in their shared brain cell for anything but volleyball.”

I frowned. “Unfortunately for us, if they fail their tests, they can’t play volleyball. And we need these weirdos. So suck it up and help me help them.”

Tsukki frowned and mumbled something under his breath, but then he reached into his backpack and pulled out a textbook and the practice tests. He worked with Hinata and Kageyama on English grammar while I went over some math problems with Yamaguchi. After a couple of hours, the boys looked thoroughly brain-dead, so we decided to call it a night.

“I’ll walk you home, Arya-san,” Hinata beamed as we walked out the front door. He grabbed his bicycle from the front lawn.

“But you rode your bike,” I plainly stated. “Besides, you don’t live anywhere near me.”

Hinata smiled softly. “You can’t walk home alone in the dark.”

“Fine,” I conceded with a smile.

As we walked, my mind kept drifting back to my time with Toruu earlier that day. I wasn’t usually one to hate people, but I hated his fangirls. Or rather, I hated the person he turned into around them. Was I really okay with being second place forever? I mean, I had the rest of my life to date around; why should I put so much effort into something if it didn’t make me happy?

“Don’t you think so, Arya-san?” Hinata was looking right at me, and I realized I hadn’t been listening to a word he was saying.

“Oh, uh, sorry, Hinata. I wasn’t paying attention.” I fidgeted with the strap on my bookbag.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, cursing the slight shake in my voice.

“Is it about the Great King?”

I stopped dead in my tracks, and after noticing my abrupt halt, so did Hinata. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I blinked them back and swallowed the lump in my throat.

“When I first joined the volleyball club, I felt like the odd one out. Like everywhere we went, every practice match, everyone was judging me, secretly saying that there was no way a girl could play on par with the boys. But the harder I practiced, the more I proved myself, and the more I began to feel…special. Like who I am is not a burden; it’s my superpower.” I paused, my breath becoming steadier the more I voiced my thoughts. “You volleyball boys always make me feel like the most important person in the room. I guess…I guess I’ve never felt that way with Oikawa. I’ve never felt special around him.”

When I noticed Hinata’s blank stare, I blushed and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Sorry, that was kind of deep and personal. Just forget I said anything.” I glanced away from him and down at my shoes. I almost started walking again when the orange-haired boy spoke.

“When Kageyama and I do our quick, I feel unstoppable. I feel like we have something that no one else has. Something…special.” He paused, and I made eye contact with him as he smiled brightly at me. “You deserve to feel special all the time, Arya-san.”

My tears dried up and the solemn expression on my face disappeared, the corners of my mouth turning up into a grin.

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[plaindangan]

Non despair au

The warriors of hope start their first day of hopes peak academy (the high school devision) and Junko and Yasuke are dropping them off.

Yasuke sees how Nagisa and Monica act around eachother and has a brief flashback.

He then takes Nagisa by the shoulders, looks him dead in the eyes, points at Monica and says: "do not fuck your emotionally manipulative best friend ". Nagisa nods in embarrassment.

A few years later Yasuke receives a message from Nagisa saying: "I have failed you".

P.S Junko has been giving Monica tips on the perfect way to seduce Nagisa for years.

Disclaimer: Below is content that's more on the racy side! If not for you, you probably shouldn't read!

It was like looking in a goddamned mirror back then. From how Nagisa went from his usual serious and mature self....to slowly caving as Monaca playfully lead him on or flirted with him. It heavily reminded him of the stress inducing path he took back when he attended. Thus, he tried to warn him. Tried to make him take heed. For as attractive as one might think their best friend would be - "Nothing is worth the fucking headache, got it?" Yasuke said curtly, watching as the blue haired teenager sighed and gave a nod back before joining his other companions. Nagisa has a good head on his shoulders. That's what he thought. There was no way he would ignore his adv-

Aaaaand as soon as Yasuke got their wedding invite and apology note, did he look exasperated to Hell and back. With both Junko and Yasuke meeting the couple at their house to catch up on old times, Yasuke used the girls making their way outside to finally ask: "What the Hell happened!?"

The intellectual man across from him blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm....I'm sorry. She was just...so...so...earnest and persistent with her affection."

A palm met Yasuke's face. Yeah....he figured as much. "Aaaand this was after she showed you just how much of a damn crazy she was, right?"

"...Unfortunately..." Nagisa hung his head in a degree of shame, whilst Yasuke patted him on the back.

Welcome to the Crazy Girl Lover's Club! Population: 2 guys with lack of self-preservation or care for sanity.

--

Outside of Monaca's home, both Junko and Monaca were chatting happily about the success of Monaca bagging Nagisa as a hubby!~

'It's all thanks to you, Big Sis!~ Your ways of seduction really paid off!~" complimented Monaca, to which Junko smiled proudly.

"As if I could let one of my dear, sweet, 'little sister' go about life without the tools for bagging a man!~ You really took those lessons to heart!~"

If Monaca was a threat to someone just by herself, then Junko backing her up might as well have been a done deal. The girl had taken after her role model pretty heavily in both demeanor, intelligence and, well, flirtation techniques.

From slow subtle moves like shortening her skirt to increase the chance of the wind blowing it up while she walked in front of him, to happily snuggling the scholarly man, with her cleavage exposed from her dress shirt ever so openly.

That isn't even getting into when she was trying to be forward. From whispering sweet, dirty, talk in his ear one day to asking if he'd like to give Monaca some good ol' punishment for being so 'naughty'. All of this culminating on a Valentine's Day when the sight of his lover in green lingerie in his bedroom finally broke him down and eagerly embraced her!~

"Puhuhuhuhu!~" "Hehehehee!~"

They played a nice game...but against two super geniuses, there could only be room for one true victor in the game of love!~

[overtaken-stream]

Hi again.....Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite anime (can be series or movies)? And why do you love them? Also, what are your top 5 (or top 7) favorite moments from any anime (can be series or movies)?

Sorry if I ask too much, feel free if you want to answer both of my questions or just pick either one......Thanks....

It's okay! I like answering these questions although the answers are always so hard to decide :')

I'll answer both of your questions!

° My Top Ten Favorite Anime:

10. Ride your wave

This one was from when I first got into anime and just added every anime edits into my ``watch later`` list, way back in 2019 If I'm not mistaken. But I only watched it at the start of 2022.

I went into it completely blind, knowing nothing.

This movie was so enjoyable and cute, it just made me want to rip my heart out in the end. The characters are so precious omg.

I don't recommend it, bc it's so sad. So so incredibly sad. I sobbed fr.

9. Kaichou wa Maid-sama.

I feel like this one is a classic in romance anime, I can't be sure tho.

My first everromance gerne anime that set my expectations high. I fell in love with Misa and I fell in love with Usui. I just liked that ``Tsundere`` type of character.

I was introduced to this anime with the help of crappy youtube videos that are split into 204 parts😬 I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT ANIME WAS but I remember rewatching it ALL THE TIME.

I know some things aren't exactly right in the anime and I haven't watched it in so long but I was used to it- I watched uhm, indian serials that were often on the TV, and one of them, was ` ` Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon? ` ` It's about this poor clumsy girl who embarrasses herself always and a serious strict business type of rich guy falling in love.

Now that I look at it tho, the "romantic" moments were so cringe omfg.

8. To Your Eternity.

I like the pain. I admit it. In the first episode, I bawled my eyes out.

Every couple of episodes were sad. And it made me cry again and again and again. I'm on season 2 now. Did I cry? Yes.

Will I sell my soul to revive the first (every) character that died? Absolutely? Does it hurt thinking about the first person we ever met? Yes. Yes, it does.

If you are looking to cry your heart out I recommend this.

7. Nanbaka.

THIS.

THIS ANIME IS THE ONE I LOVE.

THE LOYALTY I HAVE FOR IT IS INSANE.

MY VERY FIRST ANIME!!!!!!!!

It's been years but I am TO THIS DAY falling in love with this prison-break comedy fantasy anime. I love the colors, and I love the

✨ S H I N E ✨

Honestly can't get enough, I love this mystery plot of putting the main character in completely unbreakable cuffs and forcing him to use the power they grant.

I love the guards and the cell-mates, they are the best.

definitely, underrated anime that won't come back😢 I will love it till the day I die.

6. Mob Psycho 100.

I don't have much to say about this anime, I just love it.

It's just wholesome. I love the characters and just ONE's works in general, like One Punch man.

But I think it's just Mob that did it for me. He is so simple and he touches very relatable problems. It's different from shounen animes.

Also Reigan. Just Reigan.

5. Devilman: Crybaby

Another pain injection that I took, my god I also went into this blind and... Yeah I wasn't ready.

Putting aside all the... Explicit parts... It's pretty sad, I wish Akira had a happy end but the reality isn't like that and this anime shoved it down my throat.

Ugh, the pain was so good tho. Completely shattered my expectations.

Bonus points for the soundtracks.

4. Death Note

One of the best, it ended perfectly for me. The deaths were so... Peaceful. It almost disturbed me.

But the reason why I watched it and loved it was Law and Light ofc. The epic 2 geniuses competing against each other. I have no words.

3. JoJo part 3: Stardust Crusaders.

Because yes. It entertained me, Joseph is one big fat reason why I watched it tho. Absolutely bonkers how he had another son in part 4.

The adventure genre is one of my favorite genres and this sure checks that. It's also kind of nostalgic for me??? Cause I remember I made those kinds of imaginary power holder humanoid/creatures (Stands) in my childhood mind and this was my dream come true lol. I couldn't be happier with this type of anime's and I can watch it over and over.

I laughed so much throughout the series, even when DIO came in! (after I accepted that avdol and iggy weren't coming back.)

2. Attack on Titan

Deserved second place. I love politics and this type of complicated world-building where you can't distinguish right from wrong. Even with basic things.

Do I love Eren? Absolutely.

Is he in the right to commit genocide? I don't know...

Watching and growing up with these characters really had an impact on me, I MEAN I CAN'T EVEN REWATCH THE SHOW BC I KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO THEM IN THE FUTURE.

I hold them so very close to my heart.

1. One Piece.

World-building. One Piece can be only about world-building and I would still love it.

And ofc the characters, their backstories, and their relationships are the sprinkles.

Politics (for me) are cherries on top.

I want to analyze every single thing in this. From characters to literally just geography, etc. I won't get tired of this show. It's full of so many mysteries.

°My TOP 5 Favorite Moments in anime:

5. Mob Psycho 100:

I like Mogami Arc in general buttt, the scene where Mob is just a human...

It's so unsettling... How Mogami just watches and observes Mob.

4. Attack On Titan:

The scene where Reiner has a breakdown about whether he is a Soldier or a warrior.

3. Devilman Crybaby:

😬😞

2. One Piece:

I would love to put more gifs of Sanji crying and begging but i'm already at my limit😢

1. One Piece:

The faceless style looks so good on One Piece, I'm having literall chills as I'm watching this.

[virinderpaulsingh]



                         SILENCE OF THE LAMBS

Being a child of an immigrant family from Punjab, India, both my folks were often way too busy working to mind our after-school activities. Many years later, this lack of supervision, language barrier, coupled with unbridled access to movies, particularly horror films, led me to gravitate towards filmmaking and storytelling.

It was 1991, Silence of the Lambs had just been released and later distributed on VHS. Watching a movie with my mother in the theatres was a once every 6-month phenomenon. More so, I exaggerated earlier, our folks left us to be babysat viz-a-via movie rentals and broadcast television. Of course they wouldn’t totally lapse their judgement, we had our older cousins (by a year or two) supervising us, in case something were to happen. Then there was this once every week tradition, that we would be pleasantly surprised by when we visited our local mom and pop movie rental place.  This was not one of your small- scale commercial enterprises like Jumbo video. It was even smaller, rather a makeshift video store that had a million other wares to sell. In any case, no questions were asked regarding Rating or an understanding of what that meant. I vividly recall, hiding my giddiness when my uncle brought us Child’s play for our evening entertainment one day. Were my younger brothers and I in for a pleasant surprise when we found out that Chucky had one filthy mouth on him!

           Let me take you back to those formable years, when I had one of my first conscious moments of choosing and empathising with the “bad” guy! I probably didn’t have a major moral dilemma as to why I would choose Dr. Lecter over Clarice Starling (also a doctor in Psychology?) At that point, I frankly couldn’t tell, all I knew was that she’s a FBI field agent and she's pitted against this disgraced doctor (Serial killer) in prison. I also held intellectualism to the highest standard, and in the battle of brains vs brawn, Hannibal Lecter had clearly outwitted everyone. Controlling the show, from the moment we see him snickering behind his prison cell to the point where he fools the entire system and gets away. But it was more than just that, there was a time when reading comic books assisted in the overly simplified view on morality. Shows like Spiderman and He-Man showed archetypes of good vs evil; I was never unsure what side of the coin the hero’s and villains lay on. Whereas the moral ambiguity had me glued, that feeling of not knowing where this was going, and Lecter helping a possible murder from happening. Whose side was this person on? I noticed that we start Silence of the Lambs (STL- from here on in), as a story of a fish out of water, put in a rough situation where her superiors don’t want to get their literal minds annihilated. They put her in harm’s way, but this allows her to punch above her weight class as a recruit and match wits with one of the prison’s most diabolical geniuses.

         When I was 9, I also wasn’t savvy enough to know what genre this film was or for that matter the existence of sub-genre’s. People tend to put ‘STL’ in the thriller/horror slot. Which to me until this day makes no sense or difference. Afterall, all you have to do is ask the 9 year-old in me, how much of a mind fuck this movie was! It made me question authority. At this point, I was very much under the impression that smart, intellectual types were trustworthy and benevolent. It never crossed my mind that you could morph that ideology and use it for blood lust and evil. Hannibal, despite always being restrained by a physical plexi-glassed cell, and later a muzzle and straight-jacket, you as the viewer and clearly Clarice could never be out of true danger. Because he was akways more than just the physical harm that the slasher films brought with them, this man could penetrate your mind and make you question your own morality. Imagine an evil machine that makes you question the very foundation of your existence. I always thought that was reserved for the religious holy men! And here he was, this man, a forensic doctor, having tasted human flesh, developed an appetite to screw around your head and finally have it served to him. As we literally see in one of Thomas Harris’s later book adaptations this scene metaphorical concept take place in the flesh (poor Ray Liotta.)  

Afterall, at what point can one definitively recall an out of body experience? I can recollect it as if this happened yesterday. I was in one of those older cousin led baby sitting sessions, he had rented a movie that was way too horrific for the 9 year old in me. I speak of Silence of the Lambs of course, he puts on this film, without any precursor we start watching. It sounds like a police procedural movie at first but then there is something oddly different. There is mention of a sick serial killer on the loose, who entraps women. Also, not one to question a title, it only dawned on me after several viewings later the metaphor of William Blake’s Tyger and the Lamb being evoked in this parable. Also, there was this fractured fairy tale unspooling in front of my very eyes - The Little Red Riding hood. These analogies are something I hold on to, in most of the things I write about or make, I tend to use such references. Bringing forth a cross from literature, paintings, music into my films and production design. 

I also want to bring forth my absolute love for this movie and movies that I gravitate towards. It’s of no surprise to me that one of my favourite directors (auteurs) is Stanley Kubrick. When you see his character portrayals from Alex in Clockwork Orange or Jack Torrance in the Shinning, that very meddling smile, toying with the viewer, making it hard to resist their maniacal gaze. Watching Anthony Hopkins for the first time be a gentleman (other prisoners used filthy language), while simultaneously a true nosed villain all in the same scene, is what I could not avert my eyes from. I, for one, did not understand what the big deal was when this movie cleaned house that year, with 5 academy awards. The most surprising of the bunch was best film, (rarely considered if ever given to a horror film.) Then there was ‘STL’ becoming a staple watch in my life, as I watched it on an annual basis, I gleaned valuable gems I never could have as a child. The fact there are cameo’s from both George Romero and Roger Corman in this movie (both giants of the field.) The power of POV (Point of View) as a vehicle to enter the characters frame of mind. Tak Fujimoto, helmed the cinematography for this film and he did wonders with his style and approach. He does his best in demonstrating how it would have felt for Clarice in those intimidating scenes, with those ever so slightly shifting power dynamics utilising high and low angles. He makes you feel uncomfortable from the male gaze, the piercing eyes of Hannibal Lecter through the see through plexiglass. A barrier between us, yet no barrier at all. How can there be two villains when it's established that Buffalo Bill was the one that we were hoping to be caught. It only comes way late in the game, when Dr. Lecter skins the face off of one of the officers to escape. Also, a fun fact, his character was modelled after Ed Gein - the same infamous killer, Hitchcock’s Norman Bates and Tobe Hooper’s Texas Chainsaw- Leatherface was based on. Speaking of Psycho, I don’t recall Howard Shore’s soundtrack to be instrumental or as memorable, it served its purpose, but did not take centre stage. Also, someone who we now praise for his greatness, did not pigeonhole himself after the success of this film. The indelible Jonathan Demme, not only did he follow this up with a documentary about his cousin and then with the much lauded Philadelphia with Tom Hanks and Denzil Washington- he never repeated himself. I can’t positively trace how many movies or tv shows have paid hommage to Silence of the Lambs. Though, I do see a throughline between the work of Hitchcock’s Psycho- David Lynch’s Twin Peaks- Demme’s STL- Chris Carter’s X-files to Jordan Peele’s Get out. This is my imagined timeline of how things work, of course there are multitudes of influences on the horror canon.   

In the end all I can be left with is that exhilarating feeling, like seeing your first rock concert, going on your first roller-coaster ride or your first date. The anxiousness, coupled with sheer joy- the childlike innocence of getting a pun and enjoying the meaning of it, without any trepidation whatsoever. To this day, it makes me smile to hear Hopkins deliver that chilling line, “I do wish we could chat longer, but I am having an old friend for dinner.” With that said, evil persists and this cat and mouse game that we just saw, hasn’t come to an end! That is mastery in storytelling, if I ever saw one. It still leaves me with goosebumps, the very thought of recollecting this movie through this lens. Off I go to pour some Chianti and devour some liver. 

Written by - Virinderpaul Singh

[miyagiverse]

what stargirl and cobra kai characters give off the same vibes?

Thank you for sending in this question because I think about this all the time! I’m only going to go in depth for some of the characters because I’ve thought about their similarities before, so sorry if not everyone gets a long description.

Courtney / Miguel - I think Courtney and Miguel are pretty much the same. They both come from single parent households ( that parent being the mom ), they have absent dads who are criminals, and their stories begin with them carrying on the legacy of someone else. For Courtney, it's becoming Stargirl after Starman. For Miguel, it's Johnny with Cobra Kai. They are also what I consider to be the heart of their teams. When their friends need help or need leading, these two are usually the ones giving guidance and orders to them. They are the glue that keeps everyone and everything together. Without them everything else will probably fall apart. They also find a father figure role in men who aren't their biological fathers. I think Courtney shares a lot of similarities with Robby as well. I'd go into depth, but I don't want to keep you here all day lol.

Yolanda / Sam - I've seen people compare Sam to Courtney and I can see why, but I think storyline wise? Sam and Yolanda are way more similar. Both Yolanda and Sam have a bad experience dating a guy ( Kyler and Henry ) which causes the whole school to turn against them. Yolanda's private photos to Henry got sent around and Kyler and his friends spread messy rumors about Sam. Besides that, they both struggle with PTSD after a traumatic event. For Yolanda, it was killing Brainwave in s1 and for Sam it was getting attacked by Tory in s2. Although the two of them come from completely different life experiences, they both struggle with pleasing their parents. Constantly trying to meet their expectations. They're both kind and sweet, but they can be the complete opposite when they or their loved ones are threatened. They are also struggling with carrying on their legacies. Yolanda being Wildcat and Sam being Daniel’s daughter.

Beth / Demetri and Moon - I’m giving Beth both Demetri and Moon because when I see them on screen I automatically think of her. When it comes to Moon, her and Beth are both peacemakers. When the JSA or the different dojo’s are in a disagreement these two are usually always stepping in to bring amity together. They would rather see everyone get along then see them fight. They also think that fighting should be a last resort. As for Beth and Demetri... not only are they both geniuses, but they are capable of fighting when necessary. Demetri and Beth both struggled with learning how to defend themselves at the beginning of each series, but are slowly coming into their own as things move forward. They’re the characters that you’re always rooting for and they can never do wrong. At least.. that’s how I see it :)

Rick / Robby - There is so much to unpack with these two... again, they both come from completely different circumstances but are very similar. Rick’s parents both passed away and he’s had to deal with their loss. In a way Robby’s lost his parents too. Except they are alive, but are both extremely absent in his life. They were both forced to take care of themselves at a very young age. People look at them and see a couple of no goods, but deep down they are just two troubled teen boys. They can be soft and vulnerable. Especially with those they are closest to. They have so much potential, but can be angry and self destructive at times. I also think it’s kinda funny that Rick was in jail in s2 and Robby went to juvie in s3 lol. Juvie crossover when?

Cindy / Tory - These are two of the most complex characters I’ve ever seen. The definition of same text, different font lol. Cindy lost her mom when she was very young and Tory is going through the same thing with her mother being sick and there being no signs of her getting better. Simply put, they are both filled with so much anger. They are strong fighters, but they can go a bit overboard at times. Both Cindy and Tory put Courtney and Sam into the hospital. These two dynamics parallel each other sooo much and if you’re a watcher of both shows you’d see it. Although Cindy and Tory played antagonist roles for most of their time on screen, they are both going through what could potentially be really amazing redemption arcs. Tory is softening up and has discovered Cobra Kai’s true colors. Cindy wants to be a good guy and aspires to be apart of the new JSA.

Cameron / Moon and Hawk - Cameron is really hard to place because he really isn’t anything like the characters in CK. I’m saying Moon because I think they are both artistic and laid back characters, we also haven’t really seen much of them which is extremely unfortunate. If Cameron gets a villain arc in s3 *fingers crossed* then I could potentially see him going down the same path as Hawk did in s2-s3. I don’t think Cameron will become a full on villain like his dad, but I can definitely see him teetering back and forth from being a good guy to a not so good guy. Just like how Hawk went to the dark side and back to the good side throughout the last few seasons.

Pat / Johnny - I can’t explain why these two are similar. They just are. I think it’s because they both play a father figure role to kids who’s fathers aren’t present in their lives. They are both great teachers, but their lessons can be flawed at times. They also both drink coors banquet :) and that’s the only reason I’m saying they are the same lol.

Mike / Demetri - I’m not going into depth about this, but they are both nerdy, kind of obnoxious at times, but they always have the best comebacks.

Barbara / Amanda - They are great moms, sweet as can be. But lay a single finger on their kid and they’ll definitely curse you out and slap you silly.

Jakeem / Kenny - Also won’t be going into depth about this, but they have the same vibe! You can’t tell me I’m wrong.

[joy2paris]

Thoughts on this article:

I wanted to do a full review after reading but I just keep having all these thoughts coming to my head whilst reading and I do not want to forget them. Some of these probably do not make any sense so they will definitely be edited at some point.

Really intelligently written and I love the way it sets up an idea, then breaks it down. She initially distinguishes between logic and emotion when reacting to the creator of something great exposed for doing/being something horrible and immoral. "we tell ourselves we’re having ethical thoughts when really what we’re having is moral feelings."

felt she was Woody Allen at points, felt connected to him by his "ability to stand in for the audience. The identification was exacerbated by the seeming powerlessness of his usual on-screen persona: skinny as a kid, short as a kid, confused by an uncaring, incomprehensible world." So the exposure of the abhorrent thing he did felt like a personal betrayal. separating art from the artist calls for us to have this kind of distance, but this feels like a betrayal against art itself in a way? as in when it is so good, you do take it on in this wholehearted way, when you truly connect with something.

Poses the question of:  "It’s the voice of the middle-brow male critic, the one who truly believes he knows how everyone else should think. We is corrupt. We is make-believe. The real question is this: can I love the art but hate the artist? Can you? When I say we, I mean I. I mean you." - who gets to criticise

This is also all just fascinating to me after doing a philosophy essay on forgery in art - whether we can dismiss a piece of work that formerly was thought to be by a great painter after finding out it was actually a fraud - with the idea being we thought it was the great artist in the first place so surely the work should still be praised. I concluded that we should begin to view the work differently now, as our intentions within art our intrinsic to who we are as people and our life journey's.

I think holistically. And I would like to believe that moral issues are linked. It is also interesting because this writer also says "Allen is fascinated with moral shading, except when it comes to this particular issue—the issue of middle-aged men fucking teenage girls. In the face of this particular issue, one of our greatest observers of contemporary ethics—someone whose mid-career work can approach the Flaubertian—suddenly becomes a dummy". It is a wonder to me that people can be so aware of one thing but so disconnected from something else. Is that truly because he is not a woman so he will never fully understand?

"Heidegger has this notion of dasein and vorhandensein. Dasein means conscious presence, an entity aware of its own mortality—e.g., almost every character in every Woody Allen movie ever except Tracy. Vorhandensein, on the other hand, is a being that exists in itself; it just is—like an object, or an animal. Or Tracy. She’s glorious simply by being: inert, object-like, vorhandensein."

"Just as Manhattan never authentically or fully examines the complexities of an old dude nailing a high schooler, Allen himself—an extremely well-spoken guy—becomes weirdly inarticulate when discussing Soon-Yi. In a 1992 interview with Walter Isaacson of Time, Allen delivered the line that became famous for its fatuous dismissal of his moral shortcomings:

“The heart wants what it wants.”

It was one of those phrases that never leaves your head once you’ve heard it: we all immediately memorised it whether we wanted to our not. Its monstrous disregard for anything but the self. Its proud irrationality. Woody goes on: “There’s no logic to those things. You meet someone and you fall in love and that’s that.”

"I had a difficult time getting through Manhattan—it took me a couple of sittings. I mentioned this difficulty on social media, this problem of watching Manhattan in the Trump moment. (I fervently hoped it was a moment). “Manhattan is a work of genius! I am done with you, Claire!” responded a writer guy I didn’t know personally. This was a guy who had withstood many of my more outrageous social media pronouncements, some of which involved my desire to execute and chop up the male half of the species, Valerie-Solanas-like. But the minute I confessed to having a funny feeling when I watched Manhattan—I believe I said the film was making me “a little urpy”—this man stormed off my page, declaring himself done with me forevermore." - loved this part as I really resonate with it. A lot of men do have this extreme overreaction, so much audacity in the extremity of their appal at you. inability to comprehend it any other way...

"I had failed in what he saw as my task: the ability to overcome my own moralizing and pettifoggery—my own emotions—and do the work of appreciating genius. But who was in fact the more emotional person in this situation? He was the one storming from the virtual room."

I would have a repeat of this conversation with many men, smart and dumb, young and old, over the next months: “You must judge Manhattan on its aesthetics!” they said.

She rehashes a conversation about it between a male writer and a female writer, to which at one point the man says, “You’re just thinking about Soon-Yi—you’re letting that colour the movie. I thought you were better than that.” - I find that kind of ironic in itself, as this man is thinking holistically/conjoining her opinion with her existing self. Yet by this very comment, is asking her to do the opposite towards Woody Allen. Also, there is this complete right off - this one shot opportunity to be perfect that men apply to women. From this singular comment, this female writer is utterly written off in this man's eyes, forever. I constantly see the intersectionality of race and gender, as the same applies for the way a lot of white people view black people and even more so, the one-shot chance black women are given before they are written off (I see it every year in Love Island - a black female contestant does one bad thing and tarnishes the impossible standard the UK audience had for them, and the audience washes their hands of them and demands they are voted off at the very next dumping. Whereas, the white female contestants and even more so, white male contestants can spout whatever vile misogynistic shit they like and still make it to the final with adoring fans chanting their name, with forgiving comments like, "he didn't mean it, he's not his words etc". This is really making me realise we really cannot separate the art from the artist, as patriarchy and racism is intrinsic in all of our structures, consciously and not. Or, if we can separate the art from the artist, all women, black men and black women must be afforded the same privileges of separation. how is there any integrity to any of our words if we constantly compartmentalise our opinions about things and remove them from morality. Surely, art of all things is not objective? So why do we take an objective standpoint on them? Especially when the creator of these things has done abhorrent things? Because also, it feels to me, not only has this abhorrent person gotten away with not taking accountability, they also get to experience the highs of praise. In the same way a boy from my sixth for S assaulted people I love and know, it truly burns me inside that he is happy, smiling and enjoying the fruits of his life, with his sheep comrades around him, able to move on whilst my friends are still reaping the devastating consequences of what he did.

Linking to the love island example, this can also be identified in this years "I am a Celebrity Get Me out of here" - where raging racist Nigel Farage lands 3rd place whilst Nella Rose is incarcerated over something so insignificant that she said. Munya Chawawa is amazing in his humorous but informative take on this - he is so necessary as a figure in our current climate. I personally think it is ridiculous that these politicians can go on this show in the first place.

"Which of us is seeing more clearly? The one who had the ability—some might say the privilege—to remain untroubled by the filmmaker’s attitudes toward females and history with girls? Who had the ability to watch the art without committing the biographical fallacy? Or the one who couldn’t help but notice the antipathies and urges that seemed to animate the project?"

"A great work of art brings us a feeling. And yet when I say Manhattan makes me feel urpy, a man says, No, not that feeling. You’re having the wrong feeling. He speaks with authority: Manhattan is a work of genius. But who gets to say? Authority says the work shall remain untouched by the life. Authority says biography is fallacy. Authority believes the work exists in an ideal state (ahistorical, alpine, snowy, pure). Authority ignores the natural feeling that arises from biographical knowledge of a subject. Authority gets snippy about stuff like that. Authority claims it is able to appreciate the work free of biography, of history. Authority sides with the (male) maker, against the audience."

Me, I’m not ahistorical or immune to biography. That’s for the winners of history (men) (so far).

The thing is, I’m not saying I’m right or wrong. But I’m the audience. And I’m just acknowledging the realities of the situation: the film Manhattan is disrupted by our knowledge of Soon-Yi; but it’s also kinda gross in its own right; and it’s also got a lot of things about it that are pretty great. All these things can be true at once. Simply being told by men that Allen’s history shouldn’t matter doesn’t achieve the objective of making it not matter."

"When you’re having a moral feeling, self-congratulation is never far behind. You are setting your emotion in a bed of ethical language, and you are admiring yourself doing it. We are governed by emotion, emotion around which we arrange language. The transmission of our virtue feels extremely important, and weirdly exciting." - interesting, very interesting, especially in our current landscape of social media - the prioritisation of showing people that you are right etc. Writer is also addressing the faults of one themselves too (rephrase).

"In everyday deed and thought, I’m a decent-enough human. But I’m something else as well, something vaguely resembling a, well, monster. The Victorians understood this feeling; it’s why they gave us the stark bifurcations of Dorian Gray, of Jekyll and Hyde. I suppose this is the human condition, this sneaking suspicion of our own badness. It lies at the heart of our fascination with people who do awful things. Something in us—in me—chimes to that awfulness, recognizes it in myself, is horrified by that recognition, and then thrills to the drama of loudly denouncing the monster in question." - surely there is a barometer to all this? and I personally think the most important thing of all, is accountability in change. you are nothing if you do not see the wrong in the wrong things you do and on top of that, do not try to better yourself.

The critic Walter Benjamin said: “At the base of every major work of art is a pile of barbarism.” My own work could hardly be called major, but I do wonder: at the base of every minor work of art, is there a, you know, smaller pile of barbarism? A lump of barbarism? A skosh?

There are many qualities one must possess to be a working writer or artist. Talent, brains, tenacity. Wealthy parents are good. You should definitely try to have those. But first among equals, when it comes to necessary ingredients, is selfishness. A book is made out of small selfishnesses. The selfishness of shutting the door against your family. The selfishness of ignoring the pram in the hall. The selfishness of forgetting the real world to create a new one. The selfishness of stealing stories from real people. The selfishness of saving the best of yourself for that blank-faced anonymous paramour, the reader. The selfishness that comes from simply saying what you have to say.

I have to wonder: maybe I’m not monstrous enough. I’m aware of my own failings as a writer—indeed I know the list to a fare-thee-well, and worse are the failures that I know I’m failing to know— but a little part of me has to ask: if I were more selfish, would my work be better? Should I aspire to greater selfishness?"

The female writers I know yearn to be more monstrous. They say it in off-hand, ha-ha-ha ways: “I wish I had a wife.” What does that mean, really? It means you wish to abandon the tasks of nurturing in order to perform the selfish sacraments of being an artist. - bro this is also so interesting when thinking of the gender dynamics within my own family. My dad as an artist, my granny wanting to be one but could not in pursuit of her family whilst her brother freely could.

"

She mentioned a short story she’d just written and published.

“Oh, you mean the most recent occasion for your abandoning me and the kids?” asked the very smart, very charming husband.

The wife had been a monster, monster enough to finish the work. The husband had not.

This is what female monstrousness looks like: abandoning the kids. Always. The female monster is Doris Lessing leaving her children behind to go live the writer’s life in London. The female monster is Sylvia Plath, whose self-crime was bad enough, but worse still: the children whose nursery she taped off beforehand. Never mind the bread and milk she set out for them, a kind of terrible poem unto itself. She dreamed of eating men like air, but what was truly monstrous was simply leaving her children motherless."

"In a way, I’d been asking this question privately, for years, of a couple male writer friends I believe to be actually great. I write them both charming emails, but really I am always trying to find out: how selfish are you? Or to put it another way: how selfish do I need to be, to become as great as you?

Plenty selfish, I learned as I observed these men from afar. Lock-the-door-against-your-kid-while-you’re-working selfish. Work-every-day-including-Thanksgiving-and-Christmas selfish. Go-on-book-tour-for-weeks-at-a-time selfish. Sleep-with-other-women-at-conferences selfish. Whatever-it-takes selfish." this is all so fascinating. but also, can women afford to be this level? I don't think this world allows them to be. The would be branded as something worse than an art monster. Cast out of society even.

Maybe, as a female writer, you don’t kill yourself, or abandon your children. But you abandon something, some nurturing part of yourself. When you finish a book, what lies littered on the ground are small broken things: broken dates, broken promises, broken engagements. Also other, more important forgettings and failures: children’s homework left unchecked, parents left untelephoned, spousal sex unhad. Those things have to get broken for the book to get written.

Sure, I possess the ordinary monstrousness of a real-life person, the unknowable depths, the suppressed Hyde. But I also have a more visible, quantifiable kind of monstrousness—that of the artist who completes her work. Finishers are always monsters. Woody Allen doesn’t just try to make a film a year; he tries to put out a film a year.

My friend and I had done nothing more monstrous than expecting someone to mind our children while we finished our work. That’s not as bad as rape or even, say, forcing someone to watch while you jerk off into a potted plant. It might sound as though I’m conflating two things—male predators and female finishers—in a troubling way. And I am. Because when women do what needs to be done in order to write or make art, we sometimes feel monstrous. And others are quick to describe us that way.

*

Hemingway’s girlfriend, the writer Martha Gellhorn, didn’t think the artist needed to be a monster; she thought the monster needed to make himself into an artist. “A man must be a very great genius to make up for being such a loathsome human being.” (Well, I guess she would know.) She’s saying if you’re a really awful person, you are driven to greatness in order to compensate the world for all the awful shit you are going to do to it. In a way, this is a feminist revision of all of art history; a history she turns with a single acid, brilliant line into a morality tale of compensation.

Either way, the questions remain:

What is to be done about monsters? Can and should we love their work? Are all ambitious artists monsters? Tiny voice: [Am I a monster?]"

Claire Dederer is the author of the memoir Love and Trouble. She’s at work on a book about the relationship between bad behavior and good art.  

wow, what an article!

I need to read Sylvia Plath so bad. I just know I will love her. I love Kate Chopin and I feel the are of a similar elk. I love Fanon and Aime Cesaire and Jamaica Kincaid. It is so interesting being the product of the kind of intersectionality/cross section I discussed. A black father and a white mother. There is a line somewhere that talks about what each possesses and the other can afford within these identities they hold. I can't wait to write my dissertation.

[rayvern-sheep]

Do ppl… genuinely hate Neelix??? I’ve only started S4 but he still seems to just be a weird little guy. Kind of a coward, but he has morals and cares abt the crew. He is kind of their unofficial counsellor. And you gotta love someone who loves to cook, like genuinely he loves food and makes it when he’s stressed out cos it just cheers him up so much. And now he’s got the job of the ship’s cook!

His relationship w/ Kes was annoying, not gonna argue against that. I wish it hadn’t been a romantic one, and would have just been a platonic over-protectiveness. The romantic jealousy shit was weird, they just didn’t seem right as a couple at all.

I’m not mad that ppl don’t like the guy, but it seems confusing to hate him. Hate him on the same level I fucking hated Wesley. And did ppl rlly hate Vic from DS9 too???

I’m so caught up on that dumbass fuck/marry/kill thing alsjskfjs. I found Vic’s episodes sweet, he cared abt the ppl who came in to see him. And just seemed so chill and like he wanted the best for ppl.

Wesley was annoying. He was one of my most hated tropes the “child genius” who’s destined for “great things” and his final episode was so dumb and infuriating. Maybe it’s cos I was a rlly stupid child but I hate child geniuses lmao, I’m even annoyed by everyone who complains abt being a “gifted child” like ohhhh sorry you got good grades that must be difficult… ahem… ignoring my own saltiness lol I just don’t know how you could hate Neelix or Vic :(

Anyway.. please comment w/ drama or anything I’m not tryna start fights, ppl have their own opinions! (And please no spoilers, i know i know the show is older than 10yrs, but it’s new to me and I wanna enjoy the ride)

[knybits]

THE HATING GAME — 6

PAIRING —

↳ kochou shinobu x reader

SUMMARY —

↳ Geniuses within the same field yet rivals within each other’s eyes, your colleagues wonder when the sexual tension will break so that you two will become the department’s powerhouse couple so that they can enter you two into the couples contest against the other departments. Some things might have to be done by force.

WARNINGS —

↳ cursing, violence, death 

[ Navigation ]

Each day was a stage through grief. 

Day 1 - Denial 

There’s no way you fucked your reputation up and made the biggest mistake in your life. Besides agreeing to fake date Shinobu Kocho. 

There’s no way Shinobu blames you for anything, you weren’t even the main perpetrator. 

Day 2 - Anger 

Who the fuck puts the waste jars so close to the edge of the counter??? 

And why does Shinobu think you’re useless?? What right does she have to pin everything on you? She’s out of her fucking mind. 

Araceli had to take you out for a walk this day. 

Day 3 - Bargaining

Ok, maybe if you hadn’t grabbed Shinobu and startled her like that, things would be fine. 

Maybe if you let her pick the lunch spot that day, you would’ve gotten held up at a fancy place and not been there for the ‘incident’. (This is what you’ve named it now, the ‘incident’) 

Maybe if Marcus hadn’t been a little shi- 

Too far. 

Day 4 - Depression 

Why isn’t Shinobu calling you? Or texting? Or emailing? Or burning your name on the campus grass?? 

God you didn’t realize how empty your days have been without her. She hasn’t attended lectures, and the seats next to you are barren now. Your notes are even sloppier than before, and you actually had to start writing some of your work down to get through it. 

You’re back to bunsen burner cup ramen and first years actively avoiding your harsh glare. You’re back to a lab coat that needed a wash since yesterday and a shower for yourself the day before that. 

Day 5 - Acceptance 

“Stop staring at your phone, just call her,” Araceli chides. She turns the bunsen off and slides you your 4th cup of instant ramen for the day. You have a cold coffee in one hand and your phone in the other. But at Araceli’s words, you decide to put the phone down for once. 

“I royally screwed up. Like, as royal as Shinobu herself.” 

“Alright for starters, you have to stop with the insults.” 

“How was that an insult. I called her royal, I don’t get it.” 

You get an overdone eye roll, but at least there’s a response out of you. 

“Look, both you and Shinobu are hurt. No one else was there to see what happened to you two, and I think you guys just need to hash this shit out together, ok?” 

Silence hangs in the dingy kitchen, the fluorescent light bulb’s flickering causing a slight headache. But you know your friend is right. She’s always right. At least about stuff like this. 

—

Shinobu answers her door a little too quickly. You aren’t done mentally preparing yourself (muttering ”She won’t kill me” under your breath a thousand times) when the door swings itself open and in all her 4’11” glory, Shinobu Kocho steps out. 

What you don’t expect, is for a warm smile to grace her face as she looks up at you. 

“Hello, have you been well?”

The hospitality knocks you off guard, and you almost become a stuttering mess (unfathomable, I know) if it weren’t for the fact that you at least prepared 80% of yourself. 

“Fine. Can I come in?” You tilt your head towards her door and she steps aside. The comforting scent of lavender washes over you and your nerves settle quickly. Her apartment has always been calming, though unbearably intimidating when you first came over. 

Now you just see remnants of the last month. Studying with tea and sandwiches, watching movies with a hair length of space between the two of you, doing laundry together because she actually has an in-unit washer and dryer (a luxury you clearly can’t afford). 

Shinobu has some of her notes sprawled out on her coffee table, notes as colorful and easy to read as ever. So she’s been studying by herself, how nice. 

You take a seat at the small dining table she has and she’s cordial enough to pour you your own cup of tea. You’re too anxious to refuse it, not really intending to stay long. You just need to get this massive elephant off your chest before it crushes it. 

Amethyst gem eyes stare deep into you,  waiting for your to speak. You assume that’s why she’s so quiet, and while it feels like she’s being patient out of kindness, there’s an eerie tension in the air that chokes you up. 

“How- uh… I haven’t heard from you in five days… You good?” 

You good? 

You good?? 

WHY IN YOUR RIGHT MIND DID YOU ASK HER THAT?! 

But honestly, you’d rather Shinobu beat you over the head with her organic chemistry textbook than continue to smile at you. She takes a long sip from her cup, savoring the aroma. She only speaks when her porcelain cup makes a tiny ‘clink’ as she sets it down on the saucer. 

“I’ve just been busy. Filling out the incident report and all that,” she waves off your concern. 

“We have to write an incident report?” 

“No, I do. I told the department and the university to let me handle it.” 

It takes your brain a second to catch up because why did no one tell you about an incident report? SHouldn’t you legally be doing that too? Why is she the one doing all the work? 

…

Oh. 

“You’re trying to pin everything on me, aren’t you?” 

Shinobu’s hospitality vanishes in an instant. Her once (fake) smile is replaced with the nastiest glare you’ve seen from her thus far. It’s as if her skin crawls at the sight of you, and she reaches to pull at her ears a little. You can’t tell if it’s a nervous or angry tick, or if she actually wants to rip her ears off so that she never has to listen to you again. 

“How dare you,” she seethes. “Actually, I’m trying to cover you. For the both of us. I wouldn’t put your oh so important reputation on the line with the university and department chairs. Even I’m not as wicked of a witch to do that,” Shinobu spits out and you flinch. 

You mumble out a quick apology and she takes a second to breath in through her nose then out from her mouth. She does this a few more times, but even a breathing exercise isn’t enough for her to plaster her fake smile on her face again. She stares at you with uninterest when she opens her jewel toned eyes. Your heart aches for a minute, and you’re about to apologize again, and for real this time, but she sets a hand on the table. 

“I’m honestly happy that you’re here, (F/n). I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” 

You blink at Shinobu, eyes fluttering over her perfect posture. But her shoulders are tensed just the slightest bit, and you’re not sure why. 

“Uh.. Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you too. Listen, I’m s-” 

“This ends now.” 

—

Each day was a stage through grief. 

Day 1 - Denial 

There’s no way she was a part of such a dangerous accident. 

Shinobu Kocho - the genius? 

She would never have been a part of that scandal if it weren’t for you. There’s no way something so dumb could happen to someone as cautious as herself. 

Day 2 -Anger

What the fuck was (F/n) doing grabbing her wrist anyway?? She has a personal bubble for god’s sakes!! There was no need for such aggressive touching. 

If Shinobu could go back in time, she would have done a lot worse than push you back a little. 

Honestly?? She should have done worse! SHE SHOULD RIGHT NOW.

Day 3 - Bargaining 

Ok, maybe if she didn’t insult you, things would be fine. 

Maybe if she had fought harder for her restaurant of choice (literally just the taqeria across campus) they wouldn’t have been there for the ‘incident’. (This is what she’s named it now, the ‘incident’) 

Maybe if Marcus hadn’t been a little shi- 

Too far.

Day 4 - Depression 

Why isn’t (F/n) calling her? Or texting? Or emailing? Or locking her into a room with carbon monoxide ??

Her days without you are dull and boring. There’s no competition, no passion, no laughter. She knows that if she were to see you, her heart would fall out of her chest and the thought of being near you hurt too much to bear. 

Shinobu forgot about laundry day, and she forgot to get her nails done (which caused her nail lady to call in a panic, because Shinobu has never missed or been late for an appointment). She forgot to nutritionally balance her meal, and she’s started talking to herself only in Japanese, so first years have decided to stop bothering her. 

Day 5 - Acceptance 

Shinobu knows what she did wrong. And she knows what you did wrong. She knows that she has to make amends, but she also knows that she needs to put an end to all this nonsense. 

Because even if you two were to reconcile, what then? What’s the point if you two ‘break up’ in a few weeks anyway. There’s no point in reconciling if this is a fake relationship. 

And honestly? 

Shinobu doesn’t want to do this anymore. 

Day 9 - Acceptance(?)

It’s the phone call with her parents that does her in. 

She dreams of her sister, dying in front of her during the mugging. The sound of a bottle of wine being shattered against her sister’s head, shards of green glass scattering across the asphalt. The gooey blood mixing together with the cheap wine. Shinobu being grabbed by their assailants before the blaring lights from cop cars pull up to the alleyway.

Shinobu couldn’t save her sister. 

It was all her fault. 

“It’s all your fault.” 

“Don’t say that Kanae. Please, I-” 

“It’s all your fault. All your fault. All YOUR FAULT!!!”

When Shinobu wakes up in a cold sweat, it’s 2 in the morning and she’s stumbling to her bathroom to hurl. Her hair falls into her face and she shakily dials your number, because she needs someone. 

Anyone. 

Someone to tell her it’s not her fault. 

She crawls to the door to let you in, and she can only remember being picked up bridal style, taken to the bathroom, and having her hair pulled back so that she can continue throwing up. So that she can continue crying and screaming in pain. So that she can keep begging her sister for forgiveness. 

The only thing that brings her back is the gentle grip around her hair, and the hand against her back that keeps her stable. Soft words of reassurance, “It’s alright,” “I’m here for you,” “You’ll get through this,” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

Time passes, and Shinobu can’t throw up food she hasn’t eaten in the last day. She can’t cry tears with water she hasn’t drank in the last day. She can’t scream with the throat that she hasn’t used to speak in the last day. 

So you clean her up. 

Turn the shower on, wash her hair, brush her mouth and teeth, rinse her face, put on a pot of chamomile tea, change her into new clothes, and carry her back to bed. Your presence and touch hold a kindness she doesn’t recognize but is familiar with. 

When you’re about to leave she weakly takes your hand and begs you to stay with whatever hoarse voice she had left. She wants comfort, a sense of love, even if it’s one sided. 

She wants something.

So you stay. You bring up a chair and sit, holding her hand. And she begins to whisper about her sister. Her older sister. The death of her older sister. The therapy she had to go to for her trauma. How the ‘incident’ and the phone call with her parents sent her over, and how lonely she is living abroad with no friends, no family, no one. 

Shinobu Kocho knows that she lives in a palace of lies and facades. But she keeps the barriers up and no one questions her, they just revere her. And she wants to keep it that way. 

But with you? 

Why did she call you? 

What is she doing? 

Shinobu finally drifts off to a dreamless sleep, and when she wakes up you’re still there. Still holding her hand, still sitting in the chair, still by her side with your head hung over as you snore lightly. 

And Shinobu realizes she can’t accept being without you. 

---

[Next Chapter]

[cjsinkythoughts]

FATWS One Shot #2 - The Beginning of a Family

Word Count: 1804

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Human Trafficking (once, it was a mission Reader did), Minor Character Injury

Setting/Characters: The first half-ish of The Avengers in 2012; Reader, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, Mentions of Loki, Phil Coulson, and Clint Barton, OC!Agent Anderson

A/N: Here’s One Shot Number 2! I was thinking of making it longer and adding the actual Battle of Manhattan, but I dunno if I’m gonna do that. I just wanted these to be One Shots of first meetings and other smaller events. I didn’t want to do scene-for-scene two parters. If you want me to, I can, I don’t mind doing it, I just wasn’t planning on it. I’ve kinda been slacking today, which is why I haven’t cranked out more than this one, but I’ll see if I can finish one more for tonight. Tomorrow’s another late night for me at work, BUT! Tomorrow night FATWS comes out! So I will be doing the next Episode! I also don’t have Friday off this week, so the Parts might bleed into Saturday, but they will come this weekend!

Reminder that this has nothing to do with FATWS the show, but I don’t have a title for my FATWS Series, which is what these are based off of, so this is what they’re called for now! If you have any ideas for names, feel free to send them in! I’m just too lazy to come up with something clever for the whole Series.

Thank you so much for reading! As always, not beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Stay tuned and enjoy!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

You were exhausted, coming back from an assignment that lasted a little over two months. It’d been your first one since you were assigned to help Steve adjust, and you were guessing they’d keep you on desk duty for a few months before sending you back out again. Which frustrated you to no end.

But then you got back your personal cell phone from a fellow agent and, seeing you had a few  voicemails - which you never had - you flipped it on.

“Hi, Y/N.” Your lips turned up at the man you started growing close to over the past year. “I-I know you’re on a mission right now. I mean, you just left last week. Anyways, I just…I hope you’re doin’ okay. You probably won’t get this until later, but…still. I hope you’re safe. I, uh, I got that book. The one you were joking about me getting. The U.S. History for Dummies one. It goes farther back than I need to know, but I still read all of it. It helped. I wish you were here though. But I know you’re working. And that’s important. Um… I guess I’ll see you in a few months.”

The phone beeped before the next message played. “I took your advice. I got a sketchbook and some other stuff. There’s a ton of new supplies. I’m kinda excited to try them out. Maybe they’re not new but they’re more accessible now than they used to be. And I found a gym. In Brooklyn. It’s kinda run down - a hole in the wall type place - but they don’t do memberships and they don’t care how long you stay as long as you pay for your time. So that’s nice. I guess. Anyways…hi. I don’t think I said that earlier. It’s Steve, by the way. But you probably guessed that. Um…that’s all. I just wanted to let you know. Stay safe, honey. Abbyssinia.”

You listened to the next couple ones, all along the same lines. Steve telling you about his day; about the dog he was allowed to pet on his run or the different coffee he tried this morning at your previous suggestion. You snickered a little, shaking your head. You would never guessed that Hitler hitting, Nazi punching Captain America was so…soft. Cute.

His last voicemail was from earlier that morning, and it made her brow furrow. “Hey, honey. I, uh…God, I really wish you were here. I was told you’d be getting back last week, but then they said it might be another couple weeks because something happened? I hope nothing happened. Please be okay. I’ve really missed you. I know it’s only been a year, but…you’re the only familiar thing I have right now. I guess Fury was right to choose you since you were the first person I saw. There’s a, uh, problem. Fury’s got a mission for me. Some guy named Loki stole the Tesseract. Which was HYDRA’s secret weapon. That blue cube thing. I was just getting used to laptops and fast food and this…it’s just a lot. Overwhelming. You were always good at making things less intimidating. I’ve gotta go. Some SHIELD personnel are picking me up now. We’re going to…somewhere. I’m sure you would know, but they haven’t exactly told me. Hoping to see you soon, Y/N. Please be safe.”

You frowned at the information, looking up at one of your fellow agents, Anderson. “Hey.” He turned his head towards you from his conversation with the copilot. “Is something going on at HQ?”

“The Helicarrier.” Anderson corrected. “Fury just called it in. Something with the Tesseract. And some guy’s mind controlling people. He’s got Barton, apparently. The director is bringing a few people on board; Banner, Stark, Romanoff. Rogers, too, I heard. He wants you to be there ASAP, so we’re going there now.”

Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your eyes and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go see what’s going on.”

*************************

Fury met you as you walked off the jet, lugging your duffle bag over your shoulder. You were still in your clothes from the mission; a human trafficking ring in Guam. Dirty, torn up jeans along with a white tank top hugging your torso and a flannel, unbuttoned, over your shoulders. One of your sneakers had a hole in it, too, and you were walking with a slight limp from the dislocated kneecap you got a few days prior.

“Agent.” He nodded in greeting, passing you a file. “The others are waiting. We just brought in Loki.”

You chewed your cheek, narrowing your eyes as you scanned the information in the file. It had personal files of the others, but you didn’t need to look through those. You knew Natasha very well, considering she taught you half the things you know, along with Barton. You knew Stark - of course you did - especially after you helped set Natasha up to be his secretary a while back. Banner you were also knowledgeable about, seeing as you went undercover to find him when he first took off and had been part of the tracking team on him ever since. Thor you had learned about after his fiasco in New Mexico from Coulson. And, last but certainly not least, Steve Rogers, who you knew better than any file could explain.

“Walk me through this; Thor and Loki are the real Thor and Loki? Like, from Norse myths?”

“Apparently so. You know about the New Mexico incident with the two last year, don’t you?”

You nodded, pinching your lips together tightly. “Well, yeah, but I thought…I dunno. I guess it just didn’t click. So,” you tucked the file under your arm securely, raising an eyebrow at Fury. “We’re fighting a god? An actual god?”

“With an army of aliens.” He confirmed.

“Wonderful.” You huffed as the two of you turned a corner, making your way onto the bridge, just in time to hear Stark talking to Banner about him turning into the Hulk.

“Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube.” Fury butted in. You crossed your arms behind Fury, leaning on your good leg. “I was hoping you might join him. Before you do, this is-” 

“Y/N! You’re back!”

You shot a grin to the blonde, who perked up upon seeing you. “Hi, Steve. Just in time, too, huh.” You nudged Natasha slightly. “Hey, Nat. Sorry about Clint.”

She shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re here to help.”

“I’m sorry.” You looked over to find Banner frowning contemplatively at you. “Do I know you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Fury beat you to it. “Formalities later. Y/L/N, we’ll bring you up to speed-”

“I’ll get there, sir. How are you boys planning on tracking down the Tesseract?” You questioned, nodding in the two geniuses’ direction.

“I’d start with that stick of his.” Steve suggested, turning to look at the duo as well. “It may be magical but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”

“I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the Cube.” Fury stated. “And I’d like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”

A tall, broad as hell blonde looked at Fury, confused. “Monkeys? I do not understand-”

“I do!” Steve jumped in, pointing at Thor, before leaning back in his seat at the silence that came after his exclamation. “I-I understood that reference.”

You chuckled and shook your head, winking at Steve when he smiled bashfully at you. As the two scientists - was Stark a scientist? - started heading out, Steve hopped up, padding over to you.

“You’re back early.”

“Late, technically.” You shrugged, letting him pull you in for a hug, your hand rubbing his back. “I got your calls.”

He pulled away, his ears turning red. “Oh, yeah. I, uhm-”

You sniggered. “It’s fine, Steve. You can call me whenever you need to. I’m just sorry I couldn’t answer you sooner.”

“You were working.” He shrugged half heartedly. “Did it go okay? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Steven. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes just as a yawn threatened to escape your lips. “If not a little tired.” You tapped on the star against his chest. “Nice suit, by the way.”

“Ha ha.” He grinned, eyeing your own clothing. “You’re matching me.” He tugged on the red, white, and blue flannel hanging from your arms. “You also look like shit.”

You snorted. “Wow. What a gentleman. Let’s get this whole Loki situation over with so I can go to bed, yeah?”

He chuckled a little with a nod. “Sounds like a plan, honey.” The two of you started out of the bridge. “You should shower first, though.”

“You’re a bully, you know that?”

“I’m just sayin’!”

“I’m just sayin’!” You mocked with a huff. “Leave me be, Rogers.”

His laughter was cut short, making you look over at him curiously, only to find his slitted eyes studying your movements. “Why are you limping?”

“Relax, Captain. I just dislocated my knee. It’s fine. Shit happens on missions, you know that.”

“Is that why you came back late?”

Shaking your head, you lead him to one of the private rooms the Helicarrier had so you could shower and change. “No. I just needed a little more time. That’s all. Now let’s focus on the problem at hand. We can talk more later.”

He hesitated, leaning against the doorway and watching you set your bag on the small cot.  “Okay. As long as you’re alright.”

Your heart jumped a bit at the concern laced in his tone, the apprehension in those blue eyes - which you found out had some green in them - making your breath hitch slightly. “I am.” You spoke softly with a firm nod of your head, trying to assure him and his worries. “I promise.”

“I’m gonna go check on Banner and Stark, then. Come find me when you’re done.”

You cleared your throat to recover yourself, throwing him a cheeky grin. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, before turning and walking out, leaving you alone and confused.

What was that? You’d never had that reaction to anything. Your heart doesn’t race whenever someone walks in the room. Not like it did with him. What the hell did that even mean?

You shook your head, clearing your throats. You didn’t have time to dwell on that now. You doubted it was anything more than a fluke. You were just tired and seeing someone familiar, who was genuinely excited to see you was like a breath of fresh air after your operation. That’s all. Yeah.

With that decided, you headed to the shower, head spinning with new thoughts of this problem with the God of Mischief and that stupid blue cube.

All Works Taglist (Open):

@happygoreading​ @bibliophilewednesday​

[cloudy-minded-idiot]

mentor

pairing: platonic Natasha Romanoff x reader

warnings: none

word count: ~ 1,900

a/n: a big thank you to the lovely @witchyredfoxes who requested this! I hope you like it!

summary: you’re new to the avengers and Natasha takes you under her wing. 

You had never felt this tired before in your entire life. Out of breath and disgustingly sweaty, you forced yourself to throw another punch at the dummy, ignoring the way your aching muscles protested against every move you made. You needed to do this. The dummy rocked back with the force of your punch and snapped back surprisingly fast. Too fast. Your exhausted senses registered the threat far too late and the plastic head of the dummy hit your face with full force. Caught off guard, you stumbled and fell down on the mat.  

Groaning, you rubbed at your nose, glad that your hand came back without any blood. It still hurt like hell though. Closing your eyes against the pain, you hit your fist against the ground in frustration and used your other arm to hide your face in the crook of your elbow. Maybe you could just lay down here for a while. Just wallow in your shame where no one else would find you. The blue mats were surprisingly comfortable. But that might just be your tiredness speaking.  

“You know you have a perfectly good room upstairs, right?”  

Spooked, you scrambled to your feet as fast as you could, heart beating wildly in your chest and eyes wide as saucers as you stared dumbly at the newcomer in the gym. You knew who she was. Of course, you did. She was basically a legend among the SHIELD agents and a renowned superhero. The Black Widow smirked at your reaction; her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the wall. She was glad in her famous black mission outfit, red hair pulled back in a messy bun and face dirty. You had heard that she was gone on a special operation when you had been first introduced to the other superheroes a few days ago, so her attire came as no surprise. She must be fresh off of her mission.  

After few seconds of openly gaping at her, you realized you should probably say something too.

“I do know. I just thought I should get some more training in.”  

She raised an eyebrow, eyes darting to the clock on the wall.  

“A bit late for that, don’t you think? Not even Steve trains at these hours anymore.”  

For a moment you marvelled at the way she so casually referred to Captain fricking America as 'Steve'. Honestly, the friendly way they all treated each other and how close they were was the thing that has surprised you most since you first met the team of heroes. When your instructor told you about the Avengers Initiative, you had imagined a team that only worked together on a professional basis, always keeping a distance, following strict orders. But it was much more casual and less hierarchical than you thought. They joked together, watched movies, had drinks. It seemed nice. You really hoped you could be a part of this someday.  

You cleared your throat, shrugging at the agent's previous statement.  

“He’s actually the reason why I'm here. Mr. Rogers gave me some pointers on what I should improve during training earlier. I thought it was best to get a head start.”  

The Black Widow smiled in amusement, shaking her head at you. Forwning, you went over your words again to find out what she could possibly find amusing about them. But before you could overthink it any more, the redhead pushed herself away from the wall and approached you. Her steps were sure, her gaze never left you.  

It felt like she was appraising you, so you did your best to stand up straighter, hid your tiredness and kept a neutral look on your face. She stopped a couple of feet away.  

“You know, your superiors warned us about you, Y/L/N.”  

Her statement made you nervous, but you forced yourself to not let it show. Her light-hearted tone suggested that she didn’t mean to cause you anxiety.  

“He said you were hard-working, insufferably so even. Dedicated and driven to the point of negligence when it came to your own needs. I’m inclined to agree from what little I know of you.”  

You opened your mouth to defend yourself somehow, but she cut you off with one simple motion of her hand. She flashed you a reassuring smile, making sure to let you know that she did not mean to offend. You relaxed a little, keeping your mouth shut.  

“Your superior also said you were a damn fine agent. The best that he has,” she took another step closer, laying one hand on your shoulder in comfort, “And I promise that despite your obvious worries, you will make an even better Avenger. There’s no need to double-guess and overwork yourself.”  

Her word made it clear to you that she had seen right through you and recognized the motives for your late-night training sessions. You really had thought you were concealing your emotions pretty well. But then again, she was a master spy. Your shoulders sagged as you let out a defeated sigh, suddenly feeling even more exhausted than before.  

“It's just...I really want this to work out and I feel like there’s so much I need to improve before I could even begin to be a valuable part of the team. All of you guys are legends, gods, geniuses, and masters of your crafts. It’s intimidating.”  

Your admission was met with understanding as the redhead slung an arm around you and slowly steered you away from the training equipment.  

“You’re being too hard on yourself. I read your file, even came to watch you train a couple of times at SHIELD.”  

Your eyes widen at her revelation, having been previously unaware of that fact. You were sure you would have noticed her in the training room.

She continued.  

“So, I know what I'm talking about when I tell you to stop selling yourself short. You’re already a valuable addition to the team. We wouldn’t have chosen you if you weren’t.”  

Her words, surprisingly, did much to calm your anxious mind. The knot that had formed in the pit of your stomach since your arrival at the compound loosened little by little. You flash her a hesitant smile.  

“That’s- Thank you. That really helped, Ms. Romanoff.”  

She scrunched up her nose at your words, the two of you stopping at the entrance of the gym.

“Please just call me Natasha. Ms. Romanoff makes me feel old. And I'm glad I could be of help,” she nods to the door with a grin, “Now go catch some sleep, you’re barely standing upright.”  

You shake your head in agreement, an equally embarrassed and grateful smile on your face. You were almost out the door, when she called your name again, a mischievous glint in her eyes.  

“If you really want to improve, I'd suggest training with actual people rather than getting beat up by a plastic dummy.”  

You groan, closing your eyes in embarrassment. Could the floor please just open up and swallow you now?  

“You saw that?”  

She let out a small laugh at your apparent discomfort.  

“Don’t feel bad. You picked the most ferocious dummy of all. But I do expect you to put up more of a fight when we train together tomorrow, understood?”  

You blinked in surprise.  

“You want to train with me?”  

“Of course,” she shrugged like the answer was obvious, “You said you had some things you needed to improve. I'm happy to help you. Fair warning though, I’m very competitive and will not go easy on you. So, bring your A-game and go catch some sleep now. You’ll need it.”  

You couldn’t keep the giddy smile off of your face if you tried.  

“Thank you, Ms- Natasha,” you amended. She acknowledged your thanks with a nod and finally shooed you out of the gym.

 The redhead was of great help outside the training rooms as well. Natasha did her best to help you settle in, making sure to include you in conversations, invite you to hangouts, and to scold the boys when they tried to pick on you. She was by far your closest friend and confidant, and with her help, you really got to know your fellow teammates.  

Finally, after weeks of rigorous training, it was time for your first mission as an Avenger. You had to admit that you were a bit nervous when the call came in, but you went into working mode pretty fast after the briefing. After all, this wasn’t your first mission ever. As a SHIELD agent, you had been a part of several high-risk operations. Still, this was a very special day for you.  

Natasha really hadn't been kidding when she told you she was hard to train with. Every day she pushed you to your limits and you left the gym hurting in places that you never knew could hurt. But she also helped you hone your skills to perfection. With the Black Widow as your mentor, you really could see some great improvements.  

Tony was already in the quinjet when you arrived, working on making the plane ready for take-off. Being able to put on his armor in a matter of seconds, it didn’t take long for him to suit up.  

“That was fast,” he commented as you came closer, shooting you one of trademark Stark smirks, “But I wouldn’t have expected anything else from you. Nervous about your first mission, rookie? Tell you what, you make it out without needing a visit to the ER afterward and I'll buy you a celebratory drink. Deal?”  

You ignore his proffered hand, cocking your head to the side.  

“You really think it’s going to go that bad?”  

“It’s nothing personal,” he assured you, “Things happen, you're new, it's your first time...You know what? How about instead of a drink, I'll let you take one of my suits for a ride?”  

You opened your mouth to reply but were stopped by a familiar voice behind you.  

She returned your smile, before turning a glare on the billionaire.  

“Don’t listen to him, you’re gonna do fine."

You turned around to smile at Nat as she entered the jet, followed closely by Steve and Wanda.  

“And you, stop trying to scare her and get your ass to the pilot seat.”  

Tony raised his hands in mock-surrender and walked to the cockpit, muttering something about a mother hen under his breath. Nat squeezed your shoulder, pulling you towards the seats.  

“You got everything, right? Your weapons? Comms?”  

You rolled your eyes at her worried tone.  

“This isn’t my first mission, you know? I'm fine.”

She nodded with a good-natured smile.  

“Alright. We’ll still go over the mission details again together. Just to be sure.”  

With a sigh, you surrendered to your fate. The flight went by faster than you thought as you rehashed the plan together. Natasha was not satisfied until you were able to recite every step by heart. Which you did, easily. A good thing about her worry was that it took your mind off of your own nervousness. So, once you and the team left the quinjet, you were completely in the zone.  

You were joined in the field by Sam and Rhodes, who had flown in on their own and as you got into formation Steve uttered the two words you had been dreaming of hearing addressed to you for a while now.  

“Avengers assemble!”  

(Tony did end up having to buy you a post-mission drink.)  

___________________________________________

taglist: @fireflyglass @madamevirgo @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

[hobbitingryffindor]

Don’t respond after 9 pm

So I've never written fanfic before, but apparently, I'm pissed at Jane. Please be kind, but also let me know if I should continue. I have a few other rules and scenes in mind. I have no idea if this will grow into anything more. Constructive feedback would be great.

___

Maura was ruminating. It was never good when she couldn’t get through her Saturday morning yoga session, but these days, it was becoming the norm. So after she finished her cup of tea, she locked herself in her yoga room, rolled out her yoga mat, and settled in with herself.

She had rules. They were new, and it was hard to keep to them some days, but they were there because she knew better. She knows she deserves more. She may not have had an attentive family growing up, but she knows her worth, or at least she’s gotten better at reminding herself. She knows what they have goes beyond friendship. She also knows it will never be more. Jane just keeps holding back the final piece of the puzzle. She could resign herself to a lifetime of this sexually charged and emotionally mediocre but never fulfilling relationship OR she could take a step back from Jane and a step forward for herself. But last night she forgot. She forgot the first rule she put in place almost a month ago.

1 - Don’t respond to Jane after 9 pm

Recognizing the anxious feeling that started in her chest, she told herself that it was a slip-up and it wouldn’t happen again. But she couldn’t help but grab her phone and reread last night’s messages.

10:36: J - Hey, you still up?

10:42: M - Just finished Bass’ enrichment and heading up to bed.

It had been such a simple response, it just floated out of her fingertips. She was so used to just always responding to Jane.

10:43: J- Enrichment? You can just say that you were in the sandbox hiding food for Bass to find.

10:44: M- Fine yes, I was reading his namesake’s new foreword in “Skeletal biology and bioarchaeology of the Northwestern Plains” while bass dug up the cactus leaves and strawberries I hid in his sandbox.

10:44: J- You make my night of watching the Sox lose seem like an exciting night

10:45: M- What can I say? We love to party over here.

10:45: J- I don’t know when it started, but you’ve gotten really good at sarcasm

10:46: M- You must be rubbing off on me ;-)

As Maura reread that line, she couldn’t help but cringe a little. She really couldn’t stop herself from going there last night, it was yet another small slip up, that showed how their friendship was always a little more than friendship.

10:59: J- I feel like I haven’t seen you at all this week, is the morgue backlogged?

11:04: M- It’s no busier than usual. Actually a little less so without a murder yet this month.

11:04: J- Give it time, Boston can’t go more than 2 weeks without a new murder. Have you been in court on other cases this week? I went to see if you could grab lunch a few times and I never caught you.

11:05: M- We must have just missed each other, I did lunch out of the office a few times.

11:07: J- You going to fancy places without me now?

11:09: M - Really Jane, any place that doesn’t allow jeans, you label as fancy. But no, a friend from my residency, Erica, did a few guest lectures at BCU. I caught one of her lectures and we had lunch a few times.

11:09: J- I see how it is, replacing me with other genii.

Reading this for a second time feels like a needle in her chest, last night it paralyzed her, she didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t replacing Jane, per se. This was also the point last night where she realized her mistake in responding to Jane’s late text. Even now, she still isn’t sure she handled it correctly.

11:18: J- Any plans for tomorrow?

11:20 M- While genii is correct, you can just say geniuses, you don’t have to try so hard. And, no I’m not replacing you. I was planning on browsing Newbury St in the afternoon.

11:21 J- Great, so I’ll pick you up at 2, I’ll carry the bags and then we can hit up Eataly for dinner? We haven’t been there in a while.

11:25 M- That’s okay Jane, I know you don’t enjoy my long shopping ventures, you don’t have to come. And I’ve got dinner plans, I’m sorry. But I’ll see you Sunday night for dinner.

After that, it was radio silence from Jane. Even after all these years, all the social cues Jane’s helped her learn, she still doesn’t know how to read the silence. Last night she was torn. She wanted to hang out with Jane but didn’t. Now she had to live with rejecting Jane’s plans, and what felt like a rejection of Jane herself.

That’s what brought her here, meditating as the sun was rising, or trying to anyway. Maura shook herself out and realized she was going to need a little help this morning clearing her mind. So she opened up the Calm app and resigned herself to a guided meditation. Maura went through the motions of her day, finishing off with an overzealous stop at Diane Von Furstenberg’s on Newbury just because. She still hadn’t heard from Jane and was trying to tell herself it was okay, they were okay, they were just both adjusting to this new normal. Maura hadn’t figured out what this new normal was supposed to be, but she knew she was unhappy with how Jane and she were a couple in every way, except in the way that mattered. Their friendship was unhealthy as it was. If they were only going to be friends, Maura was going to start making space in her life for other friends and possibly a lover or two. She can’t pinpoint when it happened, but her very active and healthy sex life seemed to slowly dry up the closer she and Jane got.

______________

Dressed in her new Midi dress, and a brand new pair of St. Laurent sandals, she waived to Angela across the courtyard as she headed off to meet Erica. Driving to the Chart House, she couldn’t help but reflect and acknowledge that Eric’s timing was creating a good distraction for her. She and Erica had done their residencies together, they hadn’t been best of friends, but she was always warm to Maura and tried to include Maura in her social circle. A few years after Maura moved to Boston, she reached out when she landed in Providence doing a Post Doc Fellowship at Brown. They’d do dinner a few times a year, trade interesting journal articles, nothing special, but it was nice to have a friend outside of BPD. When BCU invited Erica to guest lecture for the week, Maura decided she’d just drop in on the first lecture, which led to a couple of lunches earlier in the week, and a celebration dinner as Erica was just offered a tenure track faculty position starting in the fall. Pulling up to the valet station, she decided that this was just what she needed to expand her social circle a bit. She’d enjoy her evening, celebrate Erica’s new position and enjoy the late spring evening.

______________

Like clockwork on Sunday around noontime, the Rizzoli’s started to filter into her home. Angela always led the parade, bringing groceries and starting the prep process. Over the next couple of hours Jane, her brothers, little TJ, Frost, Korsak, Kiki, and even Susie sometimes would wander in and fill her house. When she invited Angela to live in the guest house almost 4 years ago, she never thought it was going to be permanent, nor did she think she’d enjoy having her there as much as she does. For all of Angela’s meddling and snooping in Jane’s life, she’d been nothing but respectful of Maura’s boundaries and privacy. Maura treasured how their patchwork family considered her house their gathering place, when it was full, it felt like the warm home she yearned for as a child. The amazing dinners, even if sometimes unhealthy, were a vehicle for that love and inclusion Maura had spent over 30 years searching for. She’d found it with Jane and her family, but she still craves more. She wants more than a patchwork family, she wants her own family.

As Maura was finishing up working in the garden beds Tommy and TJ arrived. By the time she’d entered the kitchen freshly showered and ready for Angela to put her to work, she saw Jane and Frankie had joined Tommy in watching a basketball game. Maura greeted everyone while looking at the TV, she noticed no one was wearing a green jersey so she knew Boston wasn’t playing, which usually boded well for her couch and rugs. TJ was in his high chair feeding himself some plain pasta while Angela sang to him. Maura and Angela quickly fell into their rhythm with this week’s batch of Ragu simmering on the stove. By the time the lasagna was in the oven, Frost, Korsak, and Kiki had arrived and, Angela and Maura joined the gang in the living room to snack on some arancini before dinner.

While Maura and Angela always cooked, the most relaxing part of Sunday dinners was when Jane and Maura cleaned up. Never fail the boys would head out not long after dessert and the games were over. And Jane in her way of appreciating her mother would kick her back to the guest house for an early night, while she took charge of cleaning up the kitchen.

“Another glass of wine while you work?” Jane asked Maura while grabbing the bottle

Maura just put her glass in front of Jane while nodding for more. The pots and pans were washed, the dishwasher had already started its cycle and Jane and Maura were moving to the living room to straighten up before settling in to catch up on their week. Normally all this happened with a comfortable level of conversation between them, but tonight, there was a little more silence than usual. With blankets folded and the remote located, they settled into the couch, each sitting against an arm, facing each other.

“You know mom asked me how your date went last night, I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone” Jane started.

“It wasn’t a date, I told you I was going to dinner with Erica, she’s just accepted an offer at BCU.”

“No, you said you had lunch with Erica” with a slight hint of annoyance that only Maura could pick up on. “I didn’t know you guys were doing dinner, I thought you might have been hiding a new boyfriend from me”

“No, no new boyfriend Jane. Although that would be nice or maybe a girlfriend, I haven’t dated a woman since I first moved to Boston”

Jane nodded, her eyes a little bigger than normal, sometimes Maura could swear Jane forgot she was pansexual.

“What about you? You seeing anyone new?” Maura asked, mostly to take the heat off of her. She didn’t know what was worse, talking about her lackluster dating life or trying to appear supportive of Jane's dating life when all she wanted was to be the person dating Jane.

“No, although Frost mentioned his old college roommate is single. I can’t believe I’m even entertaining the idea of letting him set me up.”

“You should at least meet him, if Frost is setting you up, I’m sure he’s a good man.” Maura grinned through a fake smile.

“I don’t know” Jane responded, Maura saw the walls going up “ I don’t want to talk about dating. Is Erica going to move to Boston? You know you’ve never introduced us, are you scared I’ll embarrass you?” Jane half-joked, changing the topic.

“No Jane, you have to stop with the self-deprecating humor, you know I’m not embarrassed by you. And yes, she needs to finish teaching a summer seminar at Brown, and then she’ll move up here.” The next words fell out of her mouth as soon as they occurred to her “I should see if she wants to come to next Sunday’s dinner.” Seeing Jane’s small annoyance grow into jealously, she redirected. “She can meet everyone, but please don’t interrogate her for college stories. You already know I was weird and awkward, you don’t need more things to tease me about!”

Jane took the bait “Ohhhh, I didn’t even think of that! I wonder if she’s got pictures!!

Maura just rolled her eyes, relieved that the tension was broken. She really did want Jane and everyone else to accept Erica, she remembered what it was like moving back to Boston and not having anyone. The rest of the night passed quickly, Maura kept the topics to mostly work or Boston politics. Jane could rant about local politics for hours and it didn’t put Maura at risk of gazing at Jane like she wanted to take her upstairs. A little before 11, Jane sighed and made her excuses about getting back to Jo before she relieved herself on the rug again. Pre-rules Maura might have made some comment about how much wine Jane had and how she should stay the night. Post-rules Maura kept her mouth shut. As Maura locked the door behind Jane, she couldn’t help but hope that just maybe, with some delicate balancing, she’d be able to move on from Jane and keep her as a friend.

________

Later that week Maura found herself at the Robber with the whole group, even Susie joined them. Maura was finding her new footing and it felt nice, it gave her a boost of confidence. Jane no longer acted as her interpreter when Frost made a joke, Korsak no longer felt the need to censor his dirty jokes and Susie actually had a pretty foul mouth once she had a few drinks. More than ever she noticed how breaking down her walls, allowed others to break their own down around her. She didn’t feel like Queen of the Dead anymore, she was Maura. As the night stretched on the table shuffled around a bit, Korsak left to meet Kiki, Frankie and Nina joined, Susie went home and Frost tried his luck with a pretty blonde at the bar.

Maura didn’t even notice how slowly Jane crept to her, close enough that her side was against Maura and her arm draped behind Maura across the back of the booth. But she did notice when the vibe between Jane and her started to mirror that of Frankie and Nina, right down to Jane ordering Maura another drink before checking with her. Maura and Jane were a couple, they couldn’t help it. The small touches, the laughing into each other’s sides, even the stolen glances. It no longer felt like hanging out, it felt like they were on a double date. It was too much for Maura, she excused herself to the bathroom to regroup. Looking at herself in the mirror, she scolded herself. She had to get out of there, she needed more distance. How could she possibly have her own relationship if she always ended up with Jane?

“I didn’t realize how late it had was,” Maura said marching up to the booth. “I’m going to head home. I’ll see you all in the morning? Those cultures should be ready by 10, I’ll page you when I have the report ready.” All of a sudden Maura infused a formalness into the air that wasn’t there before. Frankie raised his eyebrows but said nothing. It was weird for Maura to leave without Jane, or at least inviting Jane back to her house.

“I’ll leave with you” Jane started to get up.

“Oh no, that’s fine, I’m parked just across the street. I’ll be fine, stay, enjoy the rest of your beer” Maura responded with a slightly stern note. Jane nodded, “Party pooper, leaving me with these love doves” gesturing to Frankie and Nina, while they responded with mock offense. As Maura walked away, she didn’t see Frankie lean in and whisper to Jane.

Once Maura settled into bed for the evening she decided it was time for her to get out there. Even if it meant her joining one of those annoying dating sites. It was better to be trying than pining. Last week Erica had suggested How About We, it was worth at least signing up. She decided that it couldn’t hurt more than she was already hurting. While she hadn’t opened up to Erica about how frustrated she was with her’s and Jane’s relationship, she had expressed a desire to get out there more and Erica had offered a few bits of advice. If she couldn’t go to Jane about this, it was nice to at least have another friend to commiserate with about dating. As soon as she completed her profile, her phone beeped and a notification popped up on the screen.

11:17 PM

Jane Rizzoli

You awake?

Clicking her screen off, Maura put her phone on her nightstand and turned over for what would be a very uncomfortable night’s sleep.