#been following his career for nearly 25 years and he is very good at what he does | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sat0sugu-angst · 2 years

Text

Uninteresting (A Fortunate Misunderstanding Part 1)

pairing: prohero!bkg x journalist!reader

summary: you've been misquoted referring to Dynamite as "uninteresting," and the explosive number two hero confronts you about it.

wc: 3.6k

cw: prohero!au, afab!reader, sexual tension lmao (smut to follow in upcoming chapters hehe), bkg uses pet names for reader (doll)

characters aged up +25

MDNI

—————————————————

Hero Critic Y/n of the Daily Post says number two hero Dynamite is "not interesting enough" to write about

It's a splashy headline from your interview with your longtime friend and colleague Shawn Collins, and you roll your eyes when you read the tweet. "That's not even what the interview is focused on. You're misleading your audience." You scolded over the phone, even though you're trying to quell the rush of anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

"It's not my fault Dynamite's fan base is so easily exploited. My editor said it would get views." You don't bother hiding your eye roll, not like he could see it anyway. "Besides, the interview was on your opinions of Japan's top heroes, and the only time you mentioned him was to say that. He's the number two hero, I have to point out the irony."

You scoff, but you're glad Shawn couldn't see the blush on your cheeks. Well, you think dryly, it's not like I could've put on the record why I really don't write about him.

"Still, you didn't have to insinuate that I thought Dynamite was uninteresting. That's not what I said."

It wasn't because you didn't see his flaws, didn't think he wasn't a hot-headed jackass, but you didn’t like feeling misrepresented. Because at the end of the day, no matter his downfalls, you felt nothing but adoration for the hero.

Well, adoration and a little bit horny, but either way, despite your reputation as a merciless hero critic, you didn't want any criticism about the number two hero to be published with your name attached. And you couldn't write praise about him either, not when you built your career on criticizing the hero industry.

"Well, people will see that when they watch the interview."

If they even bother, you think irritably. You could tell no matter what you said, he didn’t and wouldn't care enough about your qualms with the headline to change it. "Whatever. You're welcome for the interview." You said, and picked at your takeout.

"You still coming tomorrow?"

You sigh. You weren't entirely sure you wanted to get dressed up to go to the office party tomorrow, but you figured it'd be better than not going and being anti social. "Yeah, at eight, right?"

"I can pick you up, it's on my way." He offered.

"Better not, if I have a ride I'll just get too messed up."

He laughed on the other end. "That's true. Though, last time was fun."

You flushed a deep red in embarrassment, recalling the night you and Shawn had gone out, had the time of your lives, only to throw up on yourself when you were still ten blocks from your house. "Shut up. It wasn't fun for me."

He laughed again. "Yeah, helping you clean vomit from your hair wasn't the best way to end the night."

You glared. "I'll see you tomorrow." You hung up, but not before you heard his laugh on the other end.

You pulled away, looking at the tweet on your feed, groaning audibly in frustration, hoping the explosive hero wouldn't see the article, or at least the headline.

—————————————————

"Oi, Bakugo, did you see what that journalist said about you?" Denki said, approaching the bar with his phone raised.

Katsuki grunted, annoyed at his friend's obnoxious behavior. "I don't care what some extra has to say about me. Should be fucking grateful I'm so good at my job."

"Well, you may be good at it, but apparently, you're not very interesting." Mina said with a smirk a few seats down, having already seen the interview.

That caught Katsuki’s attention. A lot of words had been lobbed at him throughout his nearly ten year career, but uninteresting wasn't one of them. He was quiet as he took the phone from Denki, reading the headline. There it was in black and white, some journalist did think he was uninteresting. He wasn't sure why it pissed him off, that word, more than any of the other things he'd been called. No, he knew exactly why it pissed him off.

"S'not fuckin' true. What an idiot. Can't believe he gets paid to write garbage like this."

"Well, it was the woman who got interviewed that said it." Kirishima corrected. Katsuki grunted.

"Who'd care to interview some idiot with this opinion?"

"Don't take it so personally, Bakugo," Kirishima said with an easy smile, clapping him on the shoulder. Katsuki made a face. "She burns all of us way more than she does you."

"Yeah, that stuff kinda hurts sometimes. I'd take uninteresting over incompetent." Denki said with a sigh.

Mina laughed. "Except everything she writes about you is true."

The two proceeded to bicker, but Bakugo was still pouting, swirling the amber liquor in his glass before finishing it off. "Whatever. If I ever see that damn journalist I'll chew her head off." He grumbled.

Kirishima let out a nervous laugh. "Watch what you say in public, Bakugo. Some people don't know when you're joking."

He was about to say he wasn't joking, that he would confront the extra who thought she was better than him, when Sero on his other side held up a picture of a woman.

"Well, this is her, if you're curious. I'd leave her alone if I were you, though. She may be a hero critic, but she has a pretty big following."

When he zeroed in on your face, it only took him a second to remember where he knew you from. His crimson eyes narrowed.

Interesting.

—————————————————

You took a sip of wine as you turned from the bar, surveying the ballroom, windows dressed in heavy golden curtains, adding a touch of extravagance that was too overstated for the office party. Though, you couldn’t turn your nose down at the open bar. Even though the event was to wine and dine Japan’s heroes, you were still surprised by how many pro heroes were here. You thought you’d even spotted Red Riot’s fiery hair on your way over to the bar, probably the highest-ranking hero here.

“You know, standing over here with that look on your face isn’t going to convince any of the guests that you’re not some hero-hating bitch.”

You slid a narrowed look over to Shawn, who was leaning against the bar with a smirk. “I don’t have a face.” You shrugged. “Unless I’m looking at you, that is.”

He grinned. “Ouch.”

“You’ll get over it.” You look into your wine glass, then back at him. “Cara couldn’t make it?”

He shrugged. “She’s got some deadline on a commission. She had crazy eyes when I left, I just let her do her thing.”

Nodding, you raise your glass. “She’ll do great.”

He smiled, and he clinked his glass against yours. “Of course, she will. I’m only a reporter, someone’s gotta pay the bills.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning and taking a swig. “Can’t say you’re wrong about that.”

He moved away from the bar, and you followed. It was probably not a great idea to lurk near the bar the whole night.

After painfully dry conversation with some coworkers, you and Shawn broke off, standing at a table and, as discreetly as possible, you shoved every hors d'oeuvres in sight into your mouth. “Skip dinner?” Shawn asked, brow raised as you inhaled your sixth cheese cube and ham combo.

You shrugged. “Had a salad. Should’ve known it wouldn’t be enough. I just didn’t wanna look bloated in this friggin’ dress.” You ended the sentence on a bitter note.

He pat you consolably on the back. “I’ll flag down any waiters I see.”

“How long do you think we have to stay before it’s okay to leave?” You wondered after a beat. Office parties weren’t really your thing. It was awkward, toeing the line of the you at the office and the you outside the office. You didn’t want people think that you were stiff, but one glass of wine too much and you’d end up fodder for workplace gossip.

Shawn laughed beside you. “You’ve been here less than an hour. At least put some mileage on that dress.”

You sighed, looking down at the navy evening dress. You suppose he had a point; it was expensive. “Fine, but then let’s make it interesting.”

He raised his brow. “Yeah? What do you propose?”

You glanced over the sea of coworkers and heroes mingling. “Well, it seems like Jessica is on her fourth glass of wine, and since she already barely has a filter, I’ll bet you twenty bucks she asks at least one hero for their autograph.”

Shawn laughed at that. “Make it thirty and I’ll bet she asks within the next fifteen minutes.”

You grinned, opening your mouth to agree, when your eyes zeroed in on a hulking figure walking in your direction, crimson eyes narrowed. Your stomach dropped as Dynamite, the number two hero, approached you.

—————————————————

“I’ll owe you one.” Kirishima offers on the other end of the phone.

Bakugo grunts. “You already owe me. Why can’t you take Sparky?”

He’s in his living room, just returned from patrol, and he’s ready to shower and hit the hay. He couldn’t care less about some party Kirishima wanted to take him to. Kirishima had told him about the event weeks ago, but Bakugo had avoided giving him a response.

“Denki doesn’t know how to behave at events like that.”

Bakugo smirked, a little smug about it, even if he was annoyed that it made him Kirishima’s next best option. “You think I’m any better?”

Kirishima sighed. “C’mon, Bakugo, it’s open bar. Besides, your reputation could use it.”

Bakugo made another noise in the back of his throat, irritated because Kirishima wasn’t wrong. It had been months since he made a public appearance, and last time he was recorded calling the chief of police an incompetent jackass. He wasn’t wrong, but still.

“Fine. But I’m only stayin’ ‘til nine.”

And that’s how he ended up at the party. He’d made himself comfortable at the bar after shaking a few hands and enduring half an hour of semi-polite conversation. He swirled the whiskey around his glass, trying not to pay attention to the sideway glances and whispered comments about him being there. He should’ve just stayed home.

He was on his third glass when he finally turned from the bar, scanning the room for Kirishima. Instead of finding his red haired friend, his eyes zeroed in on you. You stood across the room, face illuminated with a smile.

He had to admit, you wore the dress well. Even though the cut was modest and a darker color, his eyes traced over your curves. The way you spoke with the man next to you, with the easy expression on your face, he could tell the two of you were close, and it stirred something in Bakugo he couldn’t quite name.

Well, even if you were hot, you had no fucking taste, he thought bitterly, downing the rest of his whiskey. He left the glass at the bar, realizing a second too late that his feet were taking him across the room to you, the liquid courage encouraging him to confront you without a second thought.

—————————————————

You were frozen, staring up at him. His mouth was set in a sneer, and there was a quiet rage in his expression that, while familiar because of his fame as the hot-headed hero, had never been directed at you.

“Don’t think I’m interesting, huh?” He asked, challenge in his eyes.

You hoped your cheeks wouldn’t give away your embarrassment. God, this is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. Well, not that you’d prepared to come face-to-face with him, but now there was no doubt that the interview was taken in exactly the way you hadn’t wanted. You shot a glare at Shawn.

Luckily, Shawn had the good sense to feel a little guilty. “Sorry, man, I was the one who published the interview. My editor made the choice of the headline, but I was the one who put it to print.”

Dynamite’s gaze didn’t even flicker in Shawn’s direction, and you felt the heat of his stare, wishing you could melt into a puddle. “She’s still the one who made the comment.”

“Did you watch the interview, by chance?” When the hero didn’t answer, Shawn continued. “Well, if you had, you’d have realized Y/n said it was uninteresting to write about you. Discourse on the controversial number two hero is an oversaturated market. Surely, you’re aware of that.”

Now he does look at Shawn, a renewed anger flashing in his eyes. You moved to step between the two, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

“Bakugo,” You recognized Red Riot’s voice before you looked over, the hero smiling even though you could tell it was strained. You imagine this wasn’t the first time he’s had to pull Dynamite away from unnecessary conflict before he could make a fool of himself. “Just enjoy the party, no need to stir things up.”

“Hmph.” The number two hero looked angrier than ever, but you guessed by the blush coloring the tops of his ears that even he knew when to be embarrassed. “Whatever. Said I’d only stay until nine, anyway.” And he was turning on his heel, heading toward the exit.

You weren’t sure what possessed you, but you found yourself following him. Maybe you had drank one too many glasses of wine.

He was fast, though, and once you reached the lobby, you had to call out to him before he left the building. “Dynamite, please wait—” you cut off when he stopped, surprised he actually listened to you. Still, you’d take the opportunity to clear the air. “I’m sorry the headline offended you. I did try to convince Shawn to change it, but he’d set his mind to it.” His back was still to you, and you found you almost preferred that. His gaze was too heavy, like you might collapse under the weight of it.

“It’s just funny you’d say something like that, is all.” He was quiet, but you weren’t fool enough to believe he had calmed down. Not yet, anyway.

You feel your cheeks heating up. “Well, as you may recall from what Shawn said—”

“I don’t care what that extra said.” He interjected, turning to face you.

—————————————————

“Well, I didn’t say anything bad about you. I never do.” You’re avoiding his gaze. He can tell you’re nervous, which gives him a sick sense of satisfaction. He can’t deny though, that the way red dusts your cheeks makes him feel oddly protective of you. And he’s pretty sure he wants to keep making you blush like that.

“Is there a way I can make it up to you?”

He’s shocked by the offer, gaze snapping from the way you play with your hands to your face. It’s not in his nature to be trusting, but recalling your last meeting, he’s inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt. He raises a brow, keeping his mouth stiff as he asks. “What’d you have in mind?” The way your eyes widen tell him you were shocked he conceded so quickly. To be fair, he was a little surprised by his behavior, too.

“I—I uh, have tickets. To the game tomorrow night. Great seats, VIP access. Could probably even get you a meeting with the team.”

He wants to roll his eyes. He could get that, and more, easily. He doesn’t care about some stupid game. He was surprised he still didn't want to disappoint you by rejecting it flat out, but he’s realizing quickly that he can’t count on his usually demanding personality when it comes to you, and decides to go with it. He steps closer to you, pride flaring when you suck in a breath, looking up at him through your lashes, nerves, and something else, swimming in your eyes. “I gotta better idea. Dinner, tomorrow night.”

—————————————————

You start listing off the first thing that comes to mind, offering the tickets Shawn had given you in exchange for the interview. You’re watching his expression, hoping he’d be sated by the offer, but you see none. You’re not really sure why it’s important to you that you stay in good standing with him, it’s not like you owed him or anything. He’s a hero, he did what heroes do. He wasn’t the only sexy hero, either, and it wasn’t like you gave a free pass to him, or anyone, just because of a pretty face. And yet, whenever you look into those shadowed red eyes of his, you can’t help but want to please him.

Though, he is quite pretty, you passively think as you search his face for a sign to what he was thinking. You couldn’t recall the last time he’d been photographed in a suit, and seeing him in person was doing something to your brain, but you also had to admit he looked much handsomer the last time you two came face-to-face.

Half a second after you finish thirsting after the hero you register what he said, and then it became nearly impossible to form a coherent thought. Dinner? That was it?

You couldn’t deny the idea didn’t send a thrill through you, but you doubted he had the intentions that dark part of you hoped for. What could he gain from going to dinner with you, though? Did he really care to fix his reputation that much? You couldn’t believe he went to such lengths to sway the perception of the reporters and bloggers who had not-so-forgiving opinions about him, but you could hardly let yourself believe the alternative.

You should refuse. You couldn’t be sure how being seen at dinner with one of Japan’s top heroes would affect your career. Was it a chance you wanted to take? You really shouldn’t.

But you found yourself agreeing before your sense of better judgement could stop you. “Okay. Name the time and place.”

He smirked, and your chest clenched at the mischief in his expression. “I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow. You’re still at your old place, right?”

You take your bottom lip in your mouth, nodding lightly. Did he really remember where you lived? After all this time? But before you can question him, you hear footsteps echoing in the lobby, signaling the entrance of one, no, two people.

You turn to see Red Riot, followed by Shawn, heading toward you. You look back at the man before you, all humor from before gone from his face. “Tomorrow then, Dynamite.”

His eyes slide back to you, and the corner of his mouth quirks up, so slight you almost miss it. “I’m takin’ you to dinner, doll, might as well call me by my name.”

“Oi, Bakugo.” Red Riot claps his friend on the shoulder. “Everything okay here?”

You almost miss the wink he sends you, face turned enough you were sure neither of the other men caught the gesture, renewing the fading blush in your face. You were hopeful the makeup you wore covered at least a little bit of the red in your cheeks. “Yeah, we worked it out.” His tone and expression were back to being as grumpy as ever, and he turned, heading for the door. “I’m gonna call a cab, Shitty Hair. If you’re not out when it gets here, I’m leaving your ass.”

You shot a sympathetic look at the other hero. You didn’t want to imagine how difficult it was to be close to someone like him. He shot you an equally sympathetic smile. “Sorry for him. His bark is worse than his bite.”

You think of his especially destructive quirk, laughing a little. “I’m sure you could understand my disbelief in that sentiment.”

After exchanging more or less polite farewells, he followed after his friend, leaving you and Shawn alone in the lobby.

“Are you actually okay? I know that guy’s hard to deal with.” You look over at Shawn, his features colored with mild but genuine concern.

You shrug, though you’re not sure if you should tell him about your plans with the explosive hero. “Yeah, we worked it out.”

He raises a brow. “What’d you do? Promise to write a raving review about his hero efforts?” He laughs.

You chew on your lip again. “No. But you should be a little more apologetic. You’re the jackass who got me in that position.” You poke him accusingly in the chest with a finger. “Gonna take more than a couple tickets to get me to forgive you for that one. He’s not exactly an easy man to placate.”

He sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. Though, I will say the interview did get more than fifteen thousand views in the first twenty-four hours. Hot button topics are hot button topics for a reason.”

You shoot him a dry look. “Don’t sound too sorry.”

He laughed. “C’mon. Rejoin the party, I’ll buy you a drink.” He jokes, and you roll your eyes, but smile, following him back inside.

—————————————————

Later, Katsuki is showered and in bed, eyes lazily scrolling through your articles. He couldn’t help but feel smug about the way you wrote, tongue sharp and unforgiving in your perspective of his colleagues. He even found he agreed with your criticisms, though, only where it concerned your opinions on individual heroes. He couldn’t say he fully understood where the vendetta against the hero industry came from, but he was curious to find out.

When he fell asleep, he dreamed of explosions, cries for help, and a hand reaching out for him.

—————————————————

taglist: @asmaechan @animexholic @inumakicanrailme @justanothernpcartist @neonbubby @memariamsworld @iz-jayjay @xviternity @ebonydumbslut

tysm for reading! If you liked it, pls lmk by interacting! Likes are always appreciated, and i rllyyyy love rbs/comments <3 part 2 is coming soon!!

if you'd like me to add you to the taglist, lmk! you must be over 18 and have your age accessible from you blog <3

series masterlist ♡ pt.2

welcome page

148 notes · View notes

emmajh97-mumaji · 1 year

Text

A Former-Hero's Confession

"A night out drinking with your friend leads to questions about his old partner Barnaby... and where Kotetsu's true feelings lie." - Kotetsu T. Kaburagi x Reader - Reader takes on the role of a 30s-40s aged NEXT going to college for a nursing career. Gender neutral. - Bisexual Kotetsu and Aromantic Asexual Barnaby headcanon - SPOILER WARNING: Takes place after Episode 25 of Season 2! - Prequel to CHAPTER 2: A Former-Hero's Heart & Home

You're a NEXT who lives in a small town just outside of the city of Sternbild. You've made a decent living for yourself for many years, but never got the chance to follow your dream: becoming a nurse to aid the unwell. Finally getting to a stable point in your life, you applied to several colleges-- and were accepted to an acclaimed university in Sternbild!

At first you were embarrassed, thinking you'd be the oldest student in a room full of youths fresh out of high-school. To your relief, there were actually a few other people in your medical classes closer to your age. In fact, there was one person that was a year older than you... Kotetsu T. Kaburagi.

You'd heard about him in passing, of course. Mr. Kaburagi was a famous hero, who recently helped save the city from L. L. Audun, Gregory Sunshine, and the Abbas Prison Disaster! Sadly though, he lost his NEXT powers in the process... and had to retire from being a hero for good. When asked why Kotetsu was trying to get a degree in medicine, he claimed that he had taken an interest in physical therapy when his partner Barnaby injured his leg. That makes sense. When it came down to it, he and you both had the same dream-- helping people in need.

That was the dream, anyway. In reality, you felt bad for the old man. You weren't exactly a spring chicken yourself, but his terrible memory made you worry if he'd ever pass something like Anatomy & Phys. When he jokingly suggested you tutoring him, you jumped at the chance.

It's been nearly two years, now. You've come to know Kotetsu much more than just 'ex-hero Wild Tiger from the news' or 'the classmate who fails nearly every test'. What started as exchanging small details about your lives has become sharing each other's struggles. Kotetsu helps you with your NEXT powers, and you help him with his lack of them. Formal meetings in the college library have now become Kotetsu making fried rice in your kitchen, while you read off flash cards to him. Kotetsu using his phone to show you Hero TV clips has become you having dinner with his family while cheering Barnaby on, live from the Kaburagi's television. What started as-- "Your daughter seems very mature." "So you were talking with your old coworker Barnaby?" "I appreciate you inviting me out for a drink, Kaburagi-san." --has become "Ha! Kaede's going to kill you!" "How's Bunny doing?" "Congrats on passing, Kotetsu!! Drinks are on me, tonight!"

At first you were annoyed at this bumbling man and his foolish behavior. How dare he preach to you about studying too much while he wrecks his sleep schedule from trying to be friendly-neighborhood-hero-of-the-streets all night! But now... you've come to appreciate him as a warmhearted, sensitive guy who tries his very best. Someone who hides his pain, because he's so considerate of others he forgets to consider himself. A workaholic who loves his daughter, who loves his friends, but is still trying so hard to be true to his heart. To replace the dream he he had lost with a new one. ...you'd be lying if you said you hadn't fallen for him. Perhaps further than you could have imagined.

It was a Saturday night, the two of you go out to his favorite bar. You can tell Kotetsu is frustrated, but hiding it from you (as per usual). After a few drinks, he finally reveals he got into an argument with Kaede.

"She wanted me to try out this dating app, but I told her I wasn't interested." Kotetsu explained to you as he swirled his glass. "She's just trying to help you." You reply, "I mean, you do seem pretty lonely sometimes." "I'm fine being alone!" Kotetsu countered, putting on a charming façade, "I'm a too-cool-for-you single man!" "No you're not." you flatly rebuffed. Kotetsu groaned, "Yeah..."

He cut the act, taking a swig before continuing, "I told her that I wasn't sure if I was ready to love again... But she said Tomoe would be disappointed in me for being so pathetic......" "Don't worry about it too much," you console him, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure Tomoe would want you to be comfortable in a relationship. Trying to force it would just hurt both you and the other person involved." Kotetsu lips curled up into a little smile, the kind that made the scary tiger look like a soft kitten, "Yeah, you're right."

"Plus!" suddenly, his mood brightened, "I don't need a dating app, anyway! I already have someone in mind!"

"You're kidding?" "Nope!" "Who is it?!" He sing-song-edly replied, "That's a secret~"

You take a moment to think. You grin evilly, "Fire Emblem?" "What?! No!" Darn.

The egg-timer in your brain ticked as you thought. Then, with a ding the obvious answer dawned on you-- "...it's Barnaby, isn't it?" "H-HUH?!" Kotetsu looked like he would fall out of his seat, floored by your astute suggestion.

You suddenly remember something that makes you grin twice as evilly as before, "Oh, that's right! Remember? There was that one interview where you confessed your love for him!" Kotetsu, as you planned, had his entire face go red. He blundered through his words in a overly flustered manner, "That was taken completely out of context!!" "Oh really~?" you goad. You already know the context, but you enjoy sitting back and listening to Kotetsu's silly voice when he goes off on one of his patented Old Man Lectures (tm). "It was during that charity event Fire Emblem was hosting!" Kotetsu started,

"Fire Emblem gave a huge speech about how true love is about more than just sex or romance. How it's about trusting someone completely with your feelings. About how girls are allowed to say they love their best friends, but when men do it they're assumed to be gay. And they were right! Men should be able to tell their friends they love them! I really believed them! I was so moved by their speech that I couldn't help but--"

You cut him off with a smirk, "-couldn't help but make a fool of your coworker in front of thousands of viewers?" Kotetsu mumbled angrily at that. He slumped against the bar with an adorably grumpy expression, and took another swig of his glass.

You soften your tone, "I'm just teasing you, Kotetsu. I know you hate it when creepy fans make your relationship with Barnaby awkward." He looked up at you like a sulking puppy, "Yeah..."

"That being said... Part of me does wonder..." Kotetsu shoots you a betrayed look, "Eh?!" You hold your hands up defensively, "Hear me out-!"

"You told me one time that you invited Bunny over to your place for champagne, but that it was ruined because he misunderstood you and invited all your other friends along?" "....yeah?" "And also that you had dreams of an actress with blonde hair and green eyes... one that looks suspiciously similar to Bunny?" Kotetsu sweats, "...y-yeah??" "So? Doesn't that sound at least like a crush?" "W-what?! That's crazy!!" Kotetsu flailed about. But he was protesting too much, and as soon as he saw the look you were giving him he realized it was too late.

Kotetsu sighed in defeat, "You're too smart. I can't hide anything from you." You gasp excitedly at that. You were right! He DID have feelings for Bunny! ...wait. Oh no. He has feelings for Bunny... for someone else... You stare at him expectantly, not sure how to feel about this revelation.

Kotetsu leaned back, "I think it's because Bunny was the closest I'd ever gotten to someone since, well..." he rubbed at his ring finger. You nodded in understanding.

After Tomoe, Kotetsu closed himself off from sharing his true feelings with other people. Barnaby and him were obligated to work together- and ironically that made Barnaby the perfect candidate. As heroes, they were forced to trust each other. To literally put their lives on the line for one another. You remember Kotetsu introducing you to Barnaby. The two of them were so comfortable around one another that it felt like talking to an old married couple... With that kind of understanding, it's no wonder something deeper might blossom between them.

Meanwhile here you were. Just someone Kotetsu had gone to college classes with. You've checked in on Kotetsu, forcing him to stop drinking and get some fresh air while he was having depressive episodes. You've patched him up when he was still clinging onto the idea of being a hero, and doing reckless things constantly. But how could that ever compare to fighting criminals together? To going on TV together? To saving the entire city together? You feel a pit begin to form in your stomach.

All these thoughts swim in your head as Kotetsu continues to explain-- "I couldn't help it when old desires I had came up to the surface." he takes another sip, "But it really was just a passing crush at most." You're genuinely curious at this point, "Did you... ever say anything to him?" Kotetsu sighed... "I tried my best not to... but like you just did, he found out." You could infer from his tone of voice that it didn't end well, "Oh no...." Kotetsu grinned in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his head, "I got re-ject-eeed!" "Dang!" you consoled him, "That's too bad." Though (and you're not exactly proud about this) you're actually relieved to hear this news.

"Yeah..." Kotetsu doesn't seem too upset, mostly awkward, "Bunny told me that he loved me as a friend, but he doesn't swing that way." "Aaah... it makes sense. He's always such a show-off to his female fans." "No no, he said he wasn't interested in women, either. It's called..." Kotetsu scratched his beard as he struggled, "uh- arrow-something...?" You chimed in, "Aromantic Asexual?" Kotetsu points at you excitedly, "Yeah, that's what he said!!" "Wow..." you were genuinely surprised, "I never would have guessed." "Yeah, he keeps it a secret to protect his 'sexy celebrity image'." Kotetsu clarified mockingly. You frown, "...isn't he going to be mad you just told me about it, then?" Kotetsu's brow furrowed at that. Finally, he gave a comedically delayed, "...shit! Whatever you do, don't tell anyo-!" You laughed, "Don't worry, my lips are sealed!"

There was an awkward silence. Then suddenly you remembered what started this conversation topic-

"So wait... if it's not Bunny... who is the person you had in mind?" Kotetsu froze, getting one of his characteristically dopey expressions, "H-huh?" "The reason you 'don't need a dating app'! If it's not Fire Emblem, and it's not Bunny--" you think to yourself, 'I highly doubt it's Blue Rose, as much as she'd probably wish it was', "--then who is it??"

"Eugh- w-well..." Kotetsu is back to flubbering again... until he gets an idea, "It's one of my fans, from when I was Wild Tiger!" You didn't even try to hide your incredulous tone, "Oh really?" "And how come I've never heard of this person, if you're so keen on dating them?" "B-because like I said, it's a secret! I didn't want to disappoint all my other raving fans, you see." "...sure." you roll your eyes.

As you take a drink of your own beverage, you notice Kotetsu is staring at you. He has a familiar twinkle in his golden-brown eyes. The look he had when there was something he was trying to hide. Something eating away at him...

You stare back at him for a quite a while, before he realizes you're both gazing into each other's eyes. He immediately looked down at the table, avoiding your face in embarrassment.

Finally... you get the courage to ask... "Is it me?"

You swear you see Kotetsu shiver at that. "E-eh??" he nervously sweats again.

"Am I the one you want to date, Kotetsu?" you repeat, in no uncertain terms.

He stares at you again. This time you can really see the hesitation in his face. He absentmindedly puts his ring finger up to his lips... mumbling into his hands... "I told you... it's... another person. One of my old fans."

"So it's not me?"

You can hear the 'Please stop asking' pain in his voice as he states, "...no. It's not you. You're just my friend."

That last sentence sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone. But still... Kotetsu's mind worked in strange ways. Maybe you really were wrong?

"That's okay. Sorry for asking." you backpedalled, "And don't worry, I don't have feelings for you or anything! Just being friends is fine with me." But then you added under your breath, "I really wouldn't mind if you wanted to ask me out, though..."

"What?" Kotetsu leaned in, seeming as though he didn't hear that last part. But you cover it up, not wanting the situation to get awkward again, "Hey, how about I get you another round? You promised to tell me the story of how you and Rock Bison stopped a monorail together!"

Kotetsu still seemed a bit on edge, but took the hint. He gave you a goofy grin that made it feel like sunshine indoors, "Hell yeah!"

Later that night...

As the designated driver, you escorted Kotetsu back home to his apartment.

"Hey... areyou ssure... about the not-having-feelings forme ththing?" Kotetsu drunkenly asked as he wobbled up the steps to his front door.

You forced a smile, "Yes." Helping him inside, you gave him a glass of water. "But--" "Kotetsu," you cut him off before he could question you, "Listen to me."

"Over this past semester I feel as though I know you enough to at least be your close friend." "That'scuz you are!" he replied with a drunken grin. You kept going, "So I have to say... I may not be the person you're pining over, but if I was... I'd want you to know that I care about you being happy more than I do about getting into a relationship. Because you are amazing. Even if you mess up all the time, it's always for the right reasons. You may cut your leg trying to save a cat from a tree, but seeing you try makes my life so much brighter. I'd tell you that... I know I could never replace Tomoe, but I want to help you pick up those pieces she left behind. Whether that's from keeping you warm on a lonely night, or simply just being there as your shoulder to cry on during the day. Because I love you. Not just as a hero, not just as a celebrity, but as Kotetsu. My friend."

"A-at least, that's what I'd say, if I were th--" you are about to finish when hear a sniffling sound.

Kotetsu is laying his head down on his living room table, ugly-sobbing into his arms. "K-Kotetsu?!" you fret, reaching towards him.

"Th...thaat'sso b-beautiful!!!" his voice is slurring not just from the alcohol, but from the tears. You chuckle, not really sure what else to say. Kotetsu rubs his eyes, then drunkenly says, "I- I love you too, pal!!" "W-wait, what?!" your heart raced, "Kotetsu, it was just an example, I didn't mean--!" But your attempt to respect sober Kotetsu's wishes fell on deaf ears, as drunken Kotetsu continued to spill his heart out-- "I- I mean it! Really!! I'm sso bad at thiss kinda thing! Antonio and Bunny have been so busy with hero work, Muramasa's got his own family to deal with, Kaede's off at boarding school--" he sniffed loudly, "Y-you're the only one that's really been here for me!! I'm so lucky to have you!" You couldn't help but smile at that. "I'msorry for lyingtoyou, I just-- I keepthinking of Tomoe- a-and Bunny rejecting me- a-and...!" Kotetsu tried to keep talking, but it had quickly devolved into incoherent sobbing. You patted him on the back, forcing him to drink the glass of water, "C'mon, Tiger. Let's get you to bed, okay?" You escorted Kotetsu to the bathroom, then waited until he came back out in his pajamas. "You okay?" you asked as Kotetsu got into his bed. He smiled, voice still cracking, "Y-yeah... I'll be fine." You nod, heading towards the door, "I'll come by to check on you tomorrow." The last thing you hear him say is a soft, "Thank you..."

#Tiger & Bunny #Kotetsu T. Kaburagi #Kotetsu Kaburagi #tiger and bunny kotetsu #Kotetsu T. Kaburagi x Reader #Kotetsu x reader #Tiger and Bunny x You #tiger & bunny x Reader #y/n #fic #fanfic #Tiger & Bunny 2 #Tiger & Bunny spoilers #emmajh97's posts

14 notes · View notes

shepdangelo · 1 year

Text

— BASICS

Name: Sheperd "Shep" Jonathan D’Angelo Age / D.O.B: 42. September 3rd, 1982 Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cis male, he/him, heterosexual Hometown: Los Angeles, California Affiliation: Law Enforcement Job position: Homicide Detective with the NYPD Education: Graduated high school and the Police Academy Relationship status: Widower Children: Lorelai (25) and Jillian (11) Positive traits: Compassionate, honest, patient, reliable Negative traits: Dogmatic, stubborn, tense, sacrificial

— BIOGRAPHY

Trigger warnings: Infertility tw, miscarriage tw, death tw

Shepherd Jonathan D’Angelo was the first child born to Carolyn and John “Monty” D’Angelo, born in sunny Los Angeles. As the oldest of two children, Shep quickly became a third parent for his younger sister, ensuring she carried out her duties around the house and cleaning up after her if she didn’t. After all, even though he was the more responsible of the two, the last thing he wanted was for her to get into any kind of trouble. The family was tight-knit, Shep looking up to both of his parents, but especially his father, who he considered – and still does – a hero.

It was clear from a very young age that he held the most interest in following in his father’s footsteps, but it wasn’t the only motivation for his decision to join the police force. He could recall turning on the television at 8 years old to see the evidence of corruption amongst the LAPD, especially in the midst of the Rodney King trial, and vowing to be a part of the change the institution needed to be a force for good again. He would shadow his dad whenever he could, insisting on helping him brainstorm on cases where he was stuck, so he could hone his skills. His mother cautioned him not to grow up too quickly and to live in the moment as a teenager, but it wasn’t until Michelle Deacon came into his life that he felt the desire to do so.

Michelle had skipped a grade after her family moved to the area, placing her in many of the same classes as him. She was an Air Force brat, having moved to nearly as many different towns in as many years as she'd been alive, but it seemed as though they intended to stay in the area for a while this time around and she'd finally felt comfortable enough to start making friends. With their last names being so close together, they'd been seated next to each other since the 5th grade, but he had never truly taken notice of her as anything more than a friend until freshman year of high school. The two of them grew closer and they went on a few dates, but before he could ever officially ask her to be his girlfriend, his father broke the news: they were going to be moving to his hometown of New York City.

Although the teens were being separated, they vowed to keep in contact, which is exactly what they did for all of senior year. They never explicitly said they were an item, but their letters and phone calls late into the night said enough. Following graduation, Michelle began attending NYU, Shep enrolled in the police academy, and the two moved in together shortly after that. Things were starting to feel right in his world – until a little pink plus sign on a pregnancy test nearly derailed the train.

The two had talked about having a family one day, but they had expected to be settled in their careers by the time that happened. After many conversations (and more than one lecture from his parents for not using proper protection), the two decided to proceed with the pregnancy and welcomed their daughter Lorelai into the world a few months later, named after Michelle’s great grandmother. They managed to juggle the responsibilities of being new parents with their studies and once they both had graduated, he proposed to Michelle, the two getting married a little over a year later with Lorelai as their flower girl.

He worked his way up the ranks, refusing promotions if he felt he hadn’t earned it and was simply being offered it because of his name. He never wanted to be handed anything in his career if only so he could prove himself capable to himself, but also to be a man his wife and child could be proud of. He made detective after nearly ten years of hard work and about that much time of the couple attempting to have more children. Although they had a few false starts, Michelle experienced a few miscarriages and they feared infertility. Finally, when Lorelai was nearly a teenager, they managed to get pregnant again with another little girl.

Fate, however, had the last laugh. Doctors diagnosed Michelle with preeclampsia late in her pregnancy, and although the doctors had told them everything would be okay and it was a relatively common occurrence, nobody expected for it to progress to full-blown eclampsia. Shortly after giving birth, Michelle suffered a stroke as a result and passed away. Their daughter, Jillian, was born with a low birth weight and remained in the NICU for a few weeks, but ultimately came out unscathed.

The loss was devastating for him, but he barely had time to grieve the loss because he needed to be there for his girls. He stepped up, and with the help of the important figures in his life, he managed to make it through. He avoided taking on further promotions to higher roles although they’ve presented themselves over the years because he knew more responsibility would take him away from his girls, and he wanted to devote as much time to them and making their dreams come true as he possibly can.

— WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS

Best friend — I see this person as being his first friend when he transferred to a new school in NYC going into his senior year, someone who reached out to the new kid and welcomed him with open arms. They've been friends ever since and his girls consider this person to be basically family.

Partner — Shep and this person have been on the force together for at least a few years and have gone through the ups and downs of life together. They've got each other's backs both on and off the field.

Enemies — It's not really a matter of if but how many. Shep is very much a good ol' boy and plays by the rules, so there's no doubt he's rubbed some people the wrong way or gotten some people in trouble for playing things too fast and loose. There could also be those who perceive him as being in his role due to nepotism. I'm open on this one!

#bio.

3 notes · View notes

airadam · 1 month

Text

Episode 179 : Crate Expectations

"If you're wrong, you're wrong, and if you're right, you're right."

- Malcolm X

It's been a rough month in the Hip-Hop community, as we've said goodbye to Mister Cee, Rico Wade of Organized Noize, MC Duke, and Keith LeBlanc, all of whom are included in this episode's selection. Rest in peace to all, and thanks to them for all their contributions.

Despite spending a fair amount of time (and £) digging in the vintage crates this month, the selection is mostly a mix of exploring my existing colllection, plus a few new brand new digital releases. I will be very impressed if there's anyone who knows every track here already!

Mastodon : @[email protected]

Twitch : @airadam13 - see upcoming schedule @ events.airadam.com

Playlist/Notes

MysDiggi : Skull Island

It was a pleasure to hear the well-respected UK MC MysDiggi explain some of his approach to writing and maintaining a career at the Hip-Hop @ 50 event at the Contact Theatre in Manchester recently, and so I wanted to include a track from him on this episode! On this track from "Tip Of Da Mysberg 3", he's in full King Kong mode over an 8-bit-style beat from Manchester's Twizted Roots (now Strange Soul Music) that has demolished the room when he's played it at the WORKINONIT producer sessions. A perfect union for a literally monster tune!

[Dabrye] Bus : Keep Life Right Remix (Instrumental)

Bass and more bass, following up with another electronic track that was very popular in Manchester on the underground scene in the early nineties. The vocal version has lyrics by Scottish MC Soom-T, and if you go all the way back to Episode 55 you can hear it there - though of course, if you like it, I recommend buying a copy!

Sparkz : Buzzin

Last year's "Overload" EP by Manchester's Sparkz was a great release on High Focus records, with five tracks entirely produced as well as written by the man himself - and with a touch not seen nearly enough these days, all the instrumentals coming included as well! This is the opener and probably my favourite, with a nice relaxed bounce to the rhythm and the lyrics flowing over nice and easy...until he ramps it up with some devastating double-speed bars! I don't know if any of the vinyl copies of this are still available, but it's on Bandcamp so you can pick it up for yourself there.

OutKast : Elevators (ONP 86 Mix)

Of course there had to be some Rico Wade this month, and so I've gone back to what is still my favourite OutKast LP ("ATLiens") for the remix of the lead single. It retains some of the same spooky keys as the OutKast-produced original but overall swaps elements out for something more of a live feel, you could say - almost like a funk band putting their own spin on it.

Cookin Soul & The Musalini ft. Planet Asia : I Want It All

Mus has been cultivating his New York take on the "gentleman of leisure" lane, and this luxurious track is a standout on the newly-released "Mackaroni" album, with Valencia's Cookin Soul hooking up an Anita Baker sample for a short and sweet cut, with both Mus and guest Planet Asia cooking (no pun intended) up visions of fly living, with those Mediterranean lamb chops sounding good right about now...

Z-Ro ft. Mya : Clearer

This has been a track on repeat for me this month, great track from Rother Vandross' new "The Ghetto Gospel" LP. He's never really made a mainstream splash, but those who know him have no choice but to appreciate and respect him. Getting the legendary Mya to feature here was a big win, and Beanz & KornBread on production beautifully interpolate a Houston classic for a sparkling clean track perfect for when the sun does eventually appear!

DJ DMD : 25 Lighters (Instrumental)

I was utterly amazed to find out that I'd never played any version of this track on the show before, but with the preceding tune drawing heavily from this Houston anthem, I had to drop the instrumental at least. DJ DMD sampled the classic "Nite and Day" by Al B. Sure and hooked it up perfectly for an absolute classic which has been referenced by many within the culture - and even covered by ZZ Top!

Polyrhythm Addicts : Smash

Banging, bludgeoning Hip-Hop right here, with DJ Spinna's beat indeed out to smash everything in sight. This is taken from the second Polyrhythm Addicts LP, "Break Glass...", which saw Apani B. Fly step away from the group and the also-ill Tiye Phoenix take her spot. I think I missed this the first time round, only really hearing the debut LP, but after happening upon this it sounds like the lesser-known second album is worth seeking out.

Slum Village & Mick Boogie ft. Rapper Big Pooh and Vice : Fresh

This isn't the sound that many associate with Slum Village, but they've produced some pretty varied material sonically through the different lineups of the group over the years. The intentionally raw "Dirty Slums" mixtape by Mick Boogie featured this grimy track, with banging drums, wailing electric guitar and dirty synth bass, plus the Detroit crew bringing in reinforcement from North Carolina in the shape of Little Brother's Rapper Big Pooh.

Dungeon Family : Curtains (DF 2nd Generation)

Going into the Organized Noize/Rico Wade catalogue again, this was a track at the end of Dungeon Family's "Even In Darkness" album, and as the subtitle indicates, showcases the members of the crew who were up next after OutKast, Goodie Mob, and the rest. The one who probably jumps out to most is Killer Mike, who has gone on to have a long career as a soloist and as half of Run The Jewels, but everyone holds theirs down on this track. For those that might not have known, The Dungeon was the name of the basement studio in Rico's mother's house, where he and the rest of the crew honed their crafts and did their first recordings; it's nice that the name lives on.

Nas & DJ Premier : Define My Name

If you're a very online Hip-Hop fan, you'll certainly have heard this track already, but I thought I'd share it for those who aren't! This is the lead single from the long, long-awaited Nas and Preemo album - and as much as some people complain they wanted it years ago, things happen when they happen. Nas breaks down his actual name and then looks back over his history from the viewpoint of someone who, like the rest of us, might not have imagined that nineteen-year-old who wrote "Illmatic" still releasing heat at fifty! DJ Premier's beat is sparse in one of his signature styles, and of course his near-trademark scratch phrase hook is in effect. The wait is almost over...

[Mark B] & Blade : Sealed With A Diss (Instrumental)

RIP Mark B, who along with Blade made a great duo that even managed to get some mainstream success after years of holding it down on the underground. This track, the second A-side cut on the 2001 "There's No Stoppin' It" EP, was the answer to all those who took shots at them because of that success, with this urgent beat and Blade playing no games on the mic!

Ultramagnetic MCs : Kool Keith Model Android 406

Sound quality is a bit rough, combined with some...interesting ideas on panning, but hopefully that doesn't take away too much from this Ultramagnetic rarity! It's on a compilation called "The B-Sides Companion", but I can't seem to find what, if anything, it was ever on the B-side of - information would be appreciated. By the way, if you're looking to buy the compilation you might want to get the CD, as the overall pressing quality of the vinyl isn't great.

Malcolm X : No Sell Out

I was sure I'd played this recently, but couldn't find any record of it so I must have just been listening in the house 😆 Keith LeBlanc was the producer here (though the record is credited to Malcolm X), and he had the idea of combining spoken word samples (this back in 1983!) with a beat, after hearing Grandmaster Flash playing part of the famed Dirty Harry "do you feel lucky?" speech over a record. A drummer by trade, he built the track completely with drum machines, the cutting-edge tech of the time, and then laid quotes from the legendary freedom fighter over the top. It was controversial in some circles, but if nothing else, he ensured that he got permission from Malcolm's widow, Dr. Betty Shabazz, and that the family got paid. Love it or hate it, this was a groundbreaking record for sure, and one that preceded the Afrocentric Hip-Hop era where Malcolm's words very much came to the fore.

Big Daddy Kane : Mister Cee's Master Plan

We hardly have DJs in rap groups anymore, so the DJ track has long since sadly been consigned to the history books in all but a handful of cases. However, there was a time it was a must and Big Daddy Kane cedes the spotlight on this cut from his debut "Long Live The Kane" to his DJ, the recently-departed Mister Cee, bigging him up on the mic and then letting him cut it up on the turntables. Plan executed.

Gang Starr : Take A Rest (Take 5 Remix)

Of course there had to be some Guru this month, so here we have a remix of an old classic from the "Step In The Arena" LP. London's CJ Mackintosh gets on the boards for this one, keeping the foundation of DJ Premier's production but blending a little extra jazz into it! I picked this up on a compilation of Gang Starr rarities, but the official place to find it is on the B-side of the UK release of "Take A Rest" itself.

Sadat X : The Great Dot X (Instrumental)

The wax I got this on (a sampler of tracks from the Stimulated label) unfortunately doesn't credit the producer, but this takes an old R&B (in the original sense) dancefloor classic that was a big single in its day...and wisely, doesn't mess with it too much!

Duke : Return Of The Dread-I

We close the episode with a track from the late MC Duke, a UK pioneer who got his start when he served up the winner of a DMC MC battle who said he could beat anyone in the place! He was signed to the famed Music of Life label, on which he released two LPs - "Return Of The Dread-I" being the second. Of course, it heavily channels "Star Wars" in the way you'd expect from the title, with Double H Productions working the vocal samples into the hook of this frenetic track, with Duke himself coming with the rebel attitude like Luke Skywalker and the aggression of his father. RIP Duke.

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

Check out this episode!

0 notes

bestiesenpai · 3 years

Text

youtuber Sukuna

I beg you to read the shitposts I made about this, they are delicious. You don’t have to of course but...if you loved me you would :) s/n = screen name, and I hope you chuckle at Sukunas screen name

Content warning: uhmhm lowkey incel shit(mean internet comments and whatnot)

part two --- part 3

Name: Sukuna. Age: 25. Height: 6 foot 5 inches. Occupation: toxic Youtuber, fitness trainer and hot guy.

Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for being kind. He wasn’t nice to others, rarely having anything good to say about anyone, and he’d made a successful Youtube career out of it. First starting as a fitness trainer at his gym, through encouragement from his clients and the notion of a quick cash grab, he started Youtube.

He didn’t care about it and that reflected in the quality of his videos and editing. He didn’t have consistent uploads, just filming and posting videos whenever he wanted, analytics be fucked. But somehow, that worked out for him, and he quickly found himself with over two million subscribers just frothing at the mouth for his next video.

And those subscribers were some of the worst people. Sukuna didn’t care about fostering a safe space online for others, not in the slightest. His comment sections were atrocious, both on his Youtube and his Instagram. It was full of toxic men one-upping each other constantly and dragging on each other for not being able to work out as much as Sukuna did.

Sukuna was a large part of why his fanbase were so toxic. He himself often made bad comments about others, whether fellow creators or people that happened to appear in the backgrounds of his videos, and on more than one occasion he’d been ‘cancelled’. None of that mattered though, all he cared about was shitting on other people and making money.

Sometimes he played video games and posted it, but not too often. Sukuna often stated he wasn’t so much of a fucking lonely loser that he’d play video games all the time, and so the gaming videos he did post were few and far between. He played angry shooter games and GTA, mindless button clicking he could get lost in for a few hours for a video.

Laying in bed one night after uploading his most recent video, one where he rages at 12 year olds on GTA online, Sukuna was just scrolling through his phone mindlessly. After he uploads video game content, like clockwork, he gets recommendations for gaming channels. He only watches a few of them, mostly leaving mean comments saying what losers they are, but one catches his eye.

He’s never been recommended this kind of video before. The thumbnail is light and bright with some pink aesthetic lights in the back. But the most enticing thing is the person in the middle, cute pink cat ear headphones on and a bright smile.

“Let’s see…” Sukuna mumbles to himself, mindlessly clicking the video. He hasn’t even read the title, he only clicked it because they were cute, and here he is nearly blinded by the bright setup they have.

“Hi everyone, it’s (Y/N) here and I’m really excited today! We’re going to be playing this new game I found!” Sukuna is immediately enraptured by the sound of your voice, watching how your face changes as you talk. His eyes drift off to the decor behind you, cute plushies and healthy plants, and some twinkling fairy lights. There’s books as well, and your chair is one of those ergonomic gamer chairs he has as well but in pink.

Sukuna watches the video dumbly, totally in the dark about whatever you’re doing, but loving it all the same. All he knows is that he likes the sound of your voice, and when you laugh and smile at a funny part in the game, it makes a light flush come to his cheeks.

It only takes one video for Sukuna to spiral into more of your content. He watches a video on your gaming setup, and he’s surprised that so much technology can come in pink. He watches a video on how you edit, a few of you cooking in your kitchen, and even a few vlog videos.

He quickly subscribes to your channel, and when you plug your social media, he immediately goes there. Pulling up your Instagram, he stares at your profile picture and almost audibly coos at you for being cute.

Your profile is just as cute as your videos are and Sukuna barely remembers to follow you before he’s going through your whole feed, liking every picture he sees. Sometimes he leaves comments, only one word though, ‘cute’. He’s never liked something so outright cute before, it wasn’t who he was and it definitely didn’t fit with his brand.

Falling asleep after following you on every platform, Sukuna wakes up thinking about you as well. And he also wakes up to hundreds of comments from all his accounts, bombarding him with questions and screenshots from last night.

‘SUKUNA WHY WOULD YOU LIKE THIS SHIT?!’

‘OMG Sukuna liked (Y/N)s posts!!’

‘Sukuna is so gross and toxic, you better stay away from (Y/N)!’

‘SUKUNA YOU GAY NOW’

‘EW why the fuck do you like this bitch?’

There were hundreds of comments that he waded through. Most were from his fans, expressing disgust at how many photos of yours he’d liked and wondering why he, Sukuna, most heterosexual alpha male on the planet, would like a pretty in pink Youtuber who had bubbly intros and whined when their animal crossing villagers wanted to move away.

Other comments were from your fans, some in awe that he would like you considering how much he said he hated overly cute things. Other fans expressed concern, worried what this might mean for their favorite Youtuber. Did Sukuna want to cause problems, potentially hurting you? He did have a reputation of bullying others, so this wasn’t far fetched.

Checking your Instagram, you didn’t make any comment about it. There wasn’t any update or anything, but on his end he was being tagged in endless Twitter threads with screenshots of him liking your posts and commenting under them.

“For fucks sake.” He grunted, clenching his phone in his hands. The amount of notifications he was getting were starting to upset him and he nearly threw his phone to get them to stop.

Ignoring his phone for the rest of the day, Sukuna went to the gym like he always did and trained with his clients. Some of them brought it up to him, asking him if he had a mind break last night and forgot what he was doing. Sending them harsh glares, Sukuna refused to talk about it.

“Oh my fucking god.” Sukuna nearly wailed when he got home, finally checking his phone. His name and yours had begun trending, and the hashtag #protect(Y/N) was also. Muttering angrily under his breath, Sukuna turned on Instagram live.

“Okay what the fuck!” He shouted, seeing the live become instantly flooded with people all screaming about you and him. “You’re all fucking annoying, you know that?” Glaring harshly at the camera, he read some of the comments that went by.

‘WHY’D YOU LIKE (Y/N)S POSTS FROM 2017’

‘Are you two secretly dating??’

‘COLLAB!’

“Who gives a shit why I liked their stuff, you’re a fucking weirdo for keeping track of me. And we aren’t secretly dating, dipshits.” Rolling his eyes, Sukuna scoffed as more comments came in begging for a collaboration. “And think about it you morons, why would we collab? Our shit is too fucking different, what would we even film about?”

Sukuna stayed on Instagram live for nearly an hour answering questions asking about you. Every time he had to answer that you weren’t secretly dating, he got a little more annoyed. Not at the comments themselves but at the fact that it was true; you didn’t even know he existed.

Ending the live in a huff, Sukuna didn’t feel any better than before, and it was made even worse by the fact that everything he said was being relayed to Twitter, and you were tagged in every tweet.

“These idiots!” Staring at his phone, Sukuna couldn’t believe what he was seeing. On your Instagram stories, you’d posted a q&a for your followers, and nearly all of the comments were about Sukuna.

“Hi everyone! No, me and Sukuna aren’t dating!” You said, laughing a little to ease how uncomfortable you were. “To be honest, I’ve never even heard of him before! As you know, my content is very...different from his, so our circles don’t exactly intersect. But I’m always happy to have new followers and potential friends!”

“Fuck me.” Sukuna groaned, cringing at how uncomfortable you looked having to address the sudden onslaught of questions. For once he wished he’d actually given a shit about his online presence, so that maybe one day your circles could intersect. He knew he scared you, he scared a lot of people, and this was just proof.

“Uh, Sukuna if you see this, hi it’s nice to meet you!” You said in the next slide, puffing out your cheeks and waving cutely at the camera. It made Sukuna blush, and he hated it. “Thank you for following me and liking my content! I was very surprised that you found me!”

“Of course I did, idiot, you’re fucking cute.” He muttered under his breath.

“I know a lot of people are asking for us to do a video together and I know our content is really different, so don’t feel pressured to respond or anything, but the offer is open! If you’d like, we can collab on something.”

“On what?” He asked like you were there.

“I cook sometimes, and I know you cook too! Maybe we can make a cooking video? You can teach me how to make healthy food or something!” Sukuna could tell a fake laugh when he heard one, and you definitely had one right now. “Anyways, thank you! Bye Sukuna!” But hearing you say his name cutely like that made him not care.

He nearly responded right away, accepting the collab offer now that you’d spoken about it, but he didn’t want to seem desperate. He watched through the rest of your Instagram stories, going back and replaying the parts where you talked about him over and over and his heart clenched every time when you said his name.

In the dead of night, Sukuna DM’s you after watching your latest video and leaving the simple comment ‘check your DM’s’.

“Fuck, what should I say?” He’s suddenly stumped as he looks at the keyboard. Typing and retyping a message, in the end all he can say is hi. He doesn’t expect a reply, ever, but when he gets a vibration on his phone two seconds later he jumps to read it.

(S/N): hi Sukuna! :)

(cursedgod): hey

Real fucking smart, repeating what he just said.

(S/N): is there something you wanted to talk to me about?

(S/N): I hope you haven’t been annoyed at all the notifications you’ve been getting!

(cursedgod): No it’s okay

(cursedgod): we can collab if you want

Good Sukuna, good. Play it cool, don’t let them know that your fingers are actually trembling because you’re nervous.

(S/N): do you want to?? I don’t want to pressure you! I know we’re pretty different haha

(cursedgod): yeah, let's do it. Cooking?

(S/N): sure!

Looking around his home, he was suddenly assaulted with the fact that he didn’t have any furniture. He barely had a proper bedroom, just a mattress on a bare frame and a dresser. His lounge room was the same with his computer setup in one corner and then nothing else. There was only a couch, a mounted TV and a fold out table and chairs for his dining room.

(cursedgod): I know a studio kitchen we can use, I’ll send you the address

Thank god he’d done promo work for a brand in a studio one day, otherwise he’d be fucked.

(S/N): awesome! I’m free next Saturday!

And just like that, it was a date. Well, a meeting. Sukuna knew it wasn’t a date, but his heart still thumped like it was one. Confirming the time, he ended the conversation with a curt goodbye and obsessed about it throughout the night.

When the day to meet you came, Sukuna nearly ran late trying to pick out his clothes. He’d never cared about looking good or presenting himself well in front of others, whatever version of him he turned up in was what they got. But for you, he wanted to try a little harder.

Waiting outside the studio space, Sukuna rubbed his hands together nervously. You’d messaged a day or two ago offering to put the video on your channel since it probably wouldn’t fit his aesthetic, so he didn’t have to bring his shitty camera equipment.

“S-sukuna?” Snapping his head up, Sukunas mouth fell open looking at your curious face a few feet away, an Uber driving off behind you. You were even cuter in person, just his fucking luck. How was he expected to act like a normal person when his recent obsession was here looking better than he could have imagined.

“Hi.” What comes out is a grunt, not the smooth word he’d hoped. He can see you eyeing him up, taking in all the thick and corded muscles of his body. It made his chest puff out a little, he worked hard for this physique and to have you so openly looking at him made him happy.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Sticking your hand out, you smiled politely at him.

“Same.” Shaking your hand with a firm grip, Sukuna could feel the difference in your palms. Yours was soft and nicely moisturized and he had callouses everywhere and a few cuts and scrapes.

Opening the door for you, Sukuna led you to the studio space he’d rented out. It was a clean and modern kitchen, not unlike his own, but it had appliances and looked actually lived in. Helping you set up a few camera angles, Sukuna felt a pang of nerves hit him in the stomach.

“Sukuna, can we take a picture together?” You asked before starting, and Sukunas brow furrowed deeply. Why would you want to take a picture with him? His expression must have scared you, because you quickly backtracked. “F-for promo for this video, on Instagram and stuff!”

“Sure.” God, did he feel bad or what. He shouldn’t have made that face at you, now you wouldn’t look him in the eye. Crouching down to get the right angle for you, Sukuna watched you pick a cute animal filter.

“Just do what I do.” Throwing up a peace sign, you cutely tilted your head from side to side and smiled. Sukuna tried to do the same but he looked awkward, and most of all he was blushing pretty bad.

You snapped a multitude of pictures, some at different angles and some with different filters, and in all of them Sukuna was blushing at least a little. He managed to smile more as it went on, even laughing at one of the filters.

“Thanks! I’m going to post these really quick and then we can get started!” Giving him a brief smile, you turned back to your phone and set about editing some of the pictures. Looking over your shoulder, Sukuna could see that he looked like a blushing high schooler meeting their idol for the first time and not a grown man.

Once the photos were posted and you tagged him in everything, it was time to start. Setting up your marks on the floor, you took a generous drink of water and cleared your throat.

“Are you ready for the intro? I’ll start it and introduce you, okay?” You’d actually prepared a script for yourself, and showed Sukuna as well.

“Okay.” Stepping in front of the camera, Sukuna bristled at feeling you so close to him. Your arm brushed his casually as you were fixing your shirt, and Sukuna was glad he’d worn his most expensive cologne for this.

“Hi everyone, welcome to today's video! As you know, I’m (Y/N), and today we have a special guest today!” Throwing your arms in the air, you motioned to Sukuna.

“Hi.” He nodded, barely cracking a smile. He could feel you looking at him like you wanted to say something, but he didn’t look.

“So, many people have been asking for us to do a collaboration and it’s finally here!” Clapping your hands lightly, you rocked on your heels and nudged his shoulder with yours. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?”

“Uh-” The playful nudge you’d given him was enough to make Sukuna short circuit. “I-I-” He suddenly couldn’t remember how to speak. “Rice?”

“Let’s try that again.” You laughed. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” This time, you didn’t nudge him with your shoulder.

“We’re gonna…” the words were on the tip of his tongue, they wanted to come out and be spoken but he couldn’t do it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Nodding reassuringly, you took a deep breath in and out, and Sukuna shakily copied. “One more try?” When he looked at you, Sukuna expected to see a hint of annoyance in your face, but there was none. You were just smiling softly at him, waiting for his answer.

“Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll get it next time.” Stepping away from the camera, Sukuna took a drink of water and cleared his throat. Cracking the bones in his neck, he took a deep breath and came back. “Let’s do it.” No more fucking embarrassments.

“Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” You asked for the third time, slightly swaying your body side to side this time.

“We’re gonna make katsudon today.” Finally, the words he wanted to say came out.

“That’s right! As you can see, Sukuna is really fit!” You immediately hopped in, giving his arm a brief squeeze. “And he knows how to make a ton of healthy meals!”

“Mhmm.”

“So I asked if he could help teach me, and all of you at home, how to make it!” Smiling at the camera, you waited a few seconds before relaxing and turning it off. “Did you like that? We can refilm it if you want.”

“No, it’s okay.” Running a hand through his hair, he pointed to the bag of rice he’d brought. “Let’s get started on this shit.”

Taking fifteen minutes to film the two of you filling up the rice cooker, when it was over, you set about getting aesthetic shots of the other ingredients. Sukuna tried to seem casual off to the side on his phone, but he was really watching you.

Getting started on chopping the ingredients, Sukuna somehow managed to say the things he was supposed to without stuttering too badly. He was amazed that you could make the things he was doing sound so interesting, your narration as you held the camera and tried to do things yourself was impressive to the man that barely knew anything about cameras.

“Sukuna, I need help cutting the meat.” You whined, tapping the meat on the cutting board with a knife. “I don’t remember how you showed me.”

“Here.” Without thinking, Sukuan grabbed your hand with the knife in it and moved it for you. “You just have to move your wrist more, it’s not that hard.” Doing it a few times, when Sukuna felt your chest expand with air against his, that’s when he realized how close the two of you were. “S-sorry.” Immediately jumping back, he stared at the floor.

“Thanks!” Giving him a smile, you kept at it.

“I’ll fry the meat.” Stepping in as soon as you were done, Sukuna already had the hot oil ready. He was eager to cook and do something with his hands instead of - what he felt like - was awkwardly watching you off to the side.

“Okay!” Grabbing the camera, you focused on the pan. “You’re really good at this, Sukuna!”

“T-thanks.” Staring directly at the pan, Sukuna didn’t look away. Even with the hot oil popping up from the pan a few times and burning his fingers, he didn’t flinch at all.

“Ow!” But you did. Your hand had gotten too close, and when Sukuna flipped the meat, some of the oil had gotten on your hand.

“Shit.” Abandoning the pan, Sukuna was ready to drag you over to the sink for some cool water.

“I-it’s okay, it was only a little.” Shaking your stinging hand, you point to the food. “But I think the meat might burn.”

“Shit!”

Narrowly avoiding disaster with the meat, when it came time to cook the eggs, you made a joke about how you liked your eggs in the morning and Sukuna burnt them almost immediately. While not an overtly sexual comment, the implications of the words still affected him.

Somehow, he managed to make the dish come together and while his plated dish didn’t come out the best, yours looked at least halfway decent with overcooked meat and burnt eggs. The only things not messed up were the rice and vegetables, and even then Sukuna was surprised.

“We did it everyone, we made katsudon!” Holding up the bowls, you smiled big and nudged Sukunas shoulder again. “You saw we had a few mishaps along the way, but that’s okay, that’s what made it fun.”

“Yeah, it was fun.” Sukuna chuckled. Despite him being more nervous than he’d ever thought possible, he had fun cooking alongside you.

“Sukuna, will you try mine? I made it super pretty and everything.” Holding your dish up to him, Sukuna wasn’t expecting you to do that. Now he felt bad that his looked so ugly and like a teenaged boy made it; he almost said no.

Eating yours though, somehow it tasted better than he was expecting. It must have been how you prepared it, and the fact that you cared so much about the presentation. Eating it in silence, he let you eat in peace as well for a few minutes and compliment the food to the camera.

“Alright, that’s the end of the video!” Putting your bowl down, you turned to Sukuna. “I had so much fun today, thanks for filming this with me.” Now was his chance to make everything better. Putting his bowl down and bolstering himself with confidence, Sukuna threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you close to him.

“Thank you (Y/N), I really did enjoy today. I hope we can film again soon!” He squeezed your shoulder and smiled really big at not only you but the camera as well. He knew he was blushing, he knew that even the tip of his nose was a nice rosy shade, but he didn’t care. If people teased him for it, then so be it. But he wanted you to know how he truly felt.

“R-really? You want to?” You asked, looking up at Sukuna from your place smooshed against his body.

“Really.”

“Aww, well you heard it here first everyone! Sukuna wants to shoot another video with me!” Clapping your hands a few times, you waved at the camera. “Okay, bye everyone!”

“Bye.” Sukuna waved too, waiting a few seconds before letting you go and turning off the camera.

“Sukuna, did you really mean it? You want to film another video with me?” You were in utter disbelief. All this time, he’d just seemed very standoffish, if not a little awkward around you. You were happy to film this video with him, he had way more followers than you and it would help boost both your channels, and to hear him say that just made it even better.

“Yeah, I was serious.” Sukuna spoke around stuffing his mouth with the food he still had left. He was more hungry than he thought, the nerves doing a good job of twisting his stomach during the video. Now that it’s over, he can finally relax.

“That makes me really happy.” Eating the rest of your food as well, you leant against the counter. “This is gonna sound kind of mean, but I was really scared to film with you today. I thought you were going to be really mean.”

“Shit, you did?” He grimaced, letting out a sigh. “Sorry I had you worried.” He could already imagine the comments you would get from his fans.

“It’s okay! You’re actually way nicer in person, I was surprised!”

“That’s good.”

“And you’re really buff, you have muscles in places I didn’t even know were possible!” You laughed bashfully at that comment, and avoided looking at him when he stared at you in shock. “I couldn’t help but notice…”

Were you checking him out? Had you been checking him out this whole time and he didn’t even realize? He had seen you eyeing him up when you first met, but were you looking at him like that at other times as well? Now he’d really have to watch your video to see if it was true.

“Thanks, it’s my job.” Could he have said that any lamer? “My job outside of all this, I mean. I’m a trainer at this fancy gym downtown.”

“Oh, I’ve seen some of your videos at your gym! I know which one you’re talking about.”

“You do? You’ve seen my videos?” If he wasn’t surprised before, he was now.

“Yeah, you know I had to do a little research beforehand.” You nodded, beginning to clean up the dishes around you. “And I know you’ve already watched almost all of my videos, so it only seemed fair.”

Did you have to bring that up? Now Sukuna was embarrassed again.

“Y-yeah, I did.” Clearing his throat, Sukuna helped gather the dishes. He took up washing them, another task he could do to get his mind off you. As you took down the camera equipment, he nearly broke several dishes and utensils from scrubbing too hard.

“I’ll call you an Uber.” He said when all was said and done and you were back at the front of the building.

“You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

“No, I want to.” Quickly calling you a ride, Sukuna fiddled with his phone a little more. “Uh, could I- could I-” His voice kept leaving him, and he had to cough a few times. “Can I get your number? I really liked your camera shit and I want to improve mine.” Okay, it wasn’t a total lie. He did like your setup and wanted to make his just as good, but he really wanted your number to potentially talk to you more about things outside of Youtube.

“Sure! Go ahead and type it in.” You were quick to give him your phone, a cute pink phone case on the back of it. Typing it in, he can’t help but notice the little devil emoji you add by his name. He wants to ask, but your ride is already pulling up.

“Bye!” Setting all your camera gear inside the car, you turn and wave goodbye.

“See ya.” Just as you’re about to close the car door, Sukuna gets a burst of confidence. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay!” And off you go. Sukuna watches the car drive off until he can’t see it anymore. He takes his time getting to his own place, eagerly awaiting your message with every step. But even when you do message him, all he can do is send a thumbs up back and nothing else.

It’s about two and a half days after that that you text him again, letting him know you’re done editing and that you’re going to post the video soon. It wasn’t a very long video to begin with, so the editing was simple enough. Sukuna replied with what appeared to be a lackluster ‘can’t wait’, but on the inside he was shaking. He’d already screenshot all the pictures the two of you took together and added them to a folder.

“Here we go.” As soon as the video went live, Sukuna watched it. He was mortified as soon as it started at the blush so evident on his cheeks, and how it stayed throughout the whole thing. He groaned at the part where he helped you cut up the meat, he almost wishes you’d cut it out. Every little detail that made him embarrassed was there, every little nuance of his actions you’d managed to capture and make it cute.

(Y/N): How do you like it??

You texted him after twenty minutes, eager to hear his thoughts.

(Sukuna): it’s good, good editing and stuff

(Y/N): yay! I’m going to read comments in a few hours, you should too! I bet people will be really shocked!

(Sukuna): yeah no doubt

Oh, he was definitely going to read the comments. Whereas you were going to wait for a fair few to come in before commenting, Sukuna frequently refreshed the page and read the new ones as they came in. You were right, a lot of people were surprised, but he also saw a lot of his fans as well.

‘Ew Sukuna really cooked for that bitch? They can’t do it themselves?’

‘Yeah, why do they have to rely on him? Useless as fuck lol’

‘Sukuna only did this to get laid, (Y/N) looks like an easy fuck’

All of those comments, and many more, made his blood boil. Usually, he wouldn’t care at all about the comments, letting them fester in his comment section and spiral out of control. But for you, it was different.

‘Fuck off and die you pieces of shit. Leave (Y/N) alone or say it to my fucking face’

Sukuna sent that message, along with a variety of other threats, to all the people that insulted you. He didn’t care that this wasn’t his channel and that you would deal with it in whatever way you wanted to. He needed to defend you against the unwanted audience he’d brought you.

Luckily, after seeing Sukunas messages, all of his fans backed off. They knew how serious he was about his threats and there were many rumors that he actually did go and beat people up who said things he didn’t like. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his torment.

With Sukunas name attached to the video and his heavy presence in the comment section, the video easily went viral. It was easily the most viewed video on your channel, getting on the trending pages of several different platforms.

(Sukuna): hey

It’s nearly a week after the first video that Sukuna messages you, and the hype is still going strong, and your follower count grows greatly from it.

(Y/N): hi! What’s up?

(Sukuna): do you want to film a video for my channel now? We can play a game, I have a few

(Y/N): sure that sounds fun!

Oh how wrong you were. The game Sukuna chose was a scary game, a shooter game with scary zombies and a lot of possible jumpscares. He doesn’t tell you either, so on the night of filming - he insisted on it being nighttime to get the full scary effect - you were caught off guard.

“I don’t know about this.” You whined once you saw the title. The two of you were video calling alongside playing the game together, and Sukuna’s eyes flicked to your figure on the screen.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll carry you, don’t worry.” He had started filming as soon as he’d set up the game, and you were filming yourself as well for him.

“You promise it won’t be too scary?”

“If it’s too scary just close your eyes and I’ll protect you.” Smiling softly at you, he started up the game. The beginning was fine, just a quick introduction to the game, but as soon as things started to get moving, you were scared.

“Sukuna a zombie is eating me!” You screamed, frantically pushing buttons in an attempt to get it off.

“It’s okay!” He quickly got rid of it, and made sure to stay close to your character as the story progressed.

“(Y/N) stay by me, there’s about to be a whole lot of them.”

“Close your eyes there’s about to be a jump scare here.”

“Don’t worry about getting that item, I’ll grab it for you!”

Sukuna nearly forgot he was being filmed, saying sweet things to you to help encourage you and make sure you weren’t overwhelmed. There were many parts where you screamed in fright and Sukuna was there to coo at you and tell you it was okay. He made sure that your character never died, making sure to keep you close until the end of the game.

“Sukuna, that was so hard!” Squishing your cheeks in your hands, you looked at him through your phone.

“It was fun though, wasn’t it? I had fun with you.” Completely abandoning the game, he stared down at his phone with a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, when there weren’t so many zombies.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and it made him laugh. Leaning his head into his hand, Sukuna grinned when you yawned.

“Aw, are you tired? Better go to sleep soon.” His voice dropped to a lower volume, like you were right next to him.

“I will.” You yawned again and it made Sukuna yawn as well.

“Get off the phone and go to bed, you’re making me tired too.”

“Fine.” Whining out the word, you waved sleepily. “Goodnight Sukuna, I’ll send you the video files in the morning, okay?”

“Night.” Waving back, Sukuna waited until you hung up to turn his stuff off as well.

In the morning, Sukuna was ready to edit. What usually took him a week to edit out of laziness, he took only a day to edit this video with you together. Rewatching the footage, he nearly gagged at seeing how soft his face got when he looked at you, and most of those parts were left in because he couldn’t stand to watch them and fix them.

(Sukuna): videos up

The next day, he messaged you. Once again Sukuna patrolled the comments, swiftly deleting any that said even a hint of a bad thing about you. There was less this time, what with Sukuna adding a warning at the beginning of the video threatening anyone that talked down at you.

This video, like the first, went viral. But for a much different reason. Since Sukuna was emotionally unable to deal with how sappy he was and edit those parts out, everyone got to see how soft he was for you. If the comments weren’t mean, they were screaming about how you and Sukuna must be dating now, because why else would he look at you and talk to you like that?

And much to Sukuna’s dismay, there were also fancam edits of you two together. Any clippable moment of him being sweet on you in the videos you’d made together along with the photos you’d posted on Instagram were edited together and posted on Twitter. You both were tagged in every single one, making sure Sukuna saw all the videos of you and him together. He saved all of them too, delighting in the way you looked with him with all those pretty filters.

By the end of the day, people were trying to put a ship name together for the two of you and he’s seen you repost a few fancams with cute messages of thanks as well. Seeing you receptive to the fans screaming about the two of you made him happy, even if he was still too nervous to text you about anything outside of Youtube.

As more comments came in, people on Twitter were begging him to do a vlog with you. You had quite a few on your channel, going to cafes or filming what your day or week was like. Sukuna had watched them all and was jealous of every single person that appeared alongside you.

(Y/N): hey I’m doing a live on Instagram if you want to join me! I know people really like us together lol it’ll be great for views

(Sukuna): sure

Did you want him to join now? He’d just gotten out of the shower and thrown on a pair of sweats, he wasn’t exactly decent. But he didn’t want to waste time getting ready only for you to end the live.

“Hi Sukuna!” You smiled and waved when he appeared on the screen.

“Hey.” He waved back, not caring about the angle he was holding the camera in. He saw hearts begin to fill up the screen and comments started to fly by, almost all in caps about the fact he was shirtless talking to you.

“Guys, don’t be weird! Who cares that Sukuna is shirtless?” You tried to stop them, but it was clear you were flustered as well. You weren’t looking at him, peeking at him through the screen a few times.

“God you’re all thirsty as fuck.” Sukuna finally looked at himself on the screen. He was shirtless and in bed, hair slightly damp and tousled on his pillow. Reading a few comments, he shot up. “Of course I’m wearing pants, you nasty fuck!” Storming out of bed, he stood in front of the only mirror in his house that wasn’t in the bathroom and turned the camera around. “See, look!”

“Oh.” Gasping softly, you were glad Sukuna didn’t notice you screenshot the live. Clad in only gray sweatpants, Sukuna’s freshly cleaned skin gleamed in the light of his bedroom and every single muscle and edge of his body was on display.

“There, told you I wasn’t fucking naked.” Rolling his eyes, he flopped back down on the bed. None of the comments had gotten any better, all of them talking about how hot he was and how you were so lucky to know him in real life.

“L-let's talk about something else.” You stammered, not showing your face on camera for a few minutes. Sukuna laughed at the comments teasing you for being embarrassed, agreeing with some of them under his breath.

“So, what the fuck are you all doing here?” Sukuna posed the question at the chat, but at you as well.

“Well before you came everyone was talking about you...and you know how everyone has been begging for us to vlog?” You started off slowly, peeking an eye at his face.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to call you to ask how you felt about that?” How he felt? Why did you want to know?

“You couldn’t have texted me that?” That wasn’t necessarily what he wanted to say, but it made you chuckle, so it was okay.

“No! I wanted to ask so everyone could know!”

“I don’t mind it.” If you wanted to vlog with him, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“So…” Worrying your lip, you looked off camera for a few seconds before looking directly at Sukuna. “Would you like to be in a vlog with me, at a cafe? It’s outside the city, kind of far, but we can rent a car or-”

“Yes.” Sukuna interrupted, nodding his head quickly. “I’ll come. We don’t have to rent a car, I’ll drive.”

“Really?” The comments were just as shocked as you were. Sukuna never filmed anywhere but his home and the gym, this would be a monumental occasion.

“Did you want me to say no?”

“No!” You screamed immediately, nearly dropping your phone. “I just- I wasn’t expecting you to say yes!”

“Well I did.” Sukuna bit his lip, running a hand through his hair and flexing his arm. “So I guess it’s a date, huh?” His normal asshole confidence was back now that you were appearing through a screen and not right next to him. A surprised sound came from the back of your throat, and you nearly dropped the phone again.

“Y-yeah! A date!” It felt good to have you flustered for once and not Sukuna. Laughing heartily at you, Sukuna smirked at the comments.

“Was that all you wanted to ask me or was there something more?”

“No, that was it!”

“Alright.” Licking his lip and letting his tongue hang out of his mouth a little, Sukuna watched you bite your lip as well. “Well I’m gonna go, I got stuff to do, but I’ll text you later (Y/N).” Dropping his voice as he said goodbye, Sukuna left the livestream.

“Holy fuck.” As soon as his phone was off, Sukuna let out a breath he’d been holding in. His heart was pounding hard despite how confident he was in his actions. Flirting was nothing new to him, but with you it felt different and like he’d never done it before in his life.

He watched the rest of your livestream while he finished getting ready for bed, laughing at the comments still teasing you about getting flustered with him. The notifications for Twitter were going off as well, and he knew for sure that there were new fancams for him to check out later.

(Y/N): Sukuna!! You’re so embarrassing!

Texting him after your stream, your cheeks were still burning at the memory.

(Sukuna): hey, you said it would be good for views and it was

(Y/N): I know…

(Y/N): did you really mean it, about coming with me?

(Sukuna): of course. If I didn’t want to I would have said no

(Y/N): that’s good lol!

There was a lull in conversation, and Sukuna nearly fell asleep waiting for you to either text him again or for him to figure out what to say next.

(Y/N): so, a date huh? Are you going to bring me flowers?

Now he was awake. He didn’t expect you to bring that up again, and his eyes flew open. Sukuna’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, mind going blank on what to say.

(Y/N): lol just kidding! I know you only said that for the stream! I’ll text you later about the details, I’m about to knock out

(Y/N): goodnight :)

Well shit. Now he definitely wanted it to be a date.

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

979 notes · View notes

asset35-maya · 3 years

Note

I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

#maya bday ask event #reed900 #rk900 #gavin reed #dbh gavin #dbh nines #gavin900 #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #dbh fanfic #dbh rk900 #dbh #dbh writing #my writing

115 notes · View notes

seventhrounder · 3 years

Text

I went thru my folder with old hockey magazines I had saved from around 2011 to 2015 and came across this one and thought it could be a fun to make a post about now in hindsight.

This is Jääkiekko magazine from May 2012, they always have a section of "99 questions with ..." and in this issue they interviewed Teräväinen.

I’ve translated the questions I found interesting under the cut! It ended up being about half of the interview. (*) are my additions.

On the cover "seuraava superjokeri" means the next super joker, he played for Helsingin Jokerit so it's a word play from that. Under, on the blue print it says: "The 17-year-old forward will become a first round draft pick in the summer. The natural goal scorer can dominate in SM-Liiga as soon as next season."

In the 2nd photo the headline and lead paragraph goes:

"A post with dents* - A year ago Teuvo Teräväinen was known only within a small number of hockey insiders. Few passers-by recognize him now either but after a flashy rookie season the Jokerit sensation is on the radar of every NHL team and is a strong contender to become a first round draft pick. Next season with Jokerit the talented second line center will be one of the main talking points in the SM-Liiga."

(*references the net Teräväinen had in his backyard and into which he practiced his shooting)

3. You've been described as a magician, top scorer, wunderkind and a prodigy. What do you think of these descriptions?

TT: Heh, those are some descriptions yeah. What can I really say? Don't really wanna comment on them much.

4. How nervous are you about the Draft?

TT: I try not to be nervous as best as I can. In a way I don't have anything to be nervous about since I don't care which team picks me or at what number I go.

6. Which is stressing you more, English interviews or physical tests?

TT: Maybe both. Bench press (laughs) and English interviews can be tough.

12. How far along have you planned your career with, for example, your parents or your agent?

TT: Haven't really planned things with others but I've thought about them myself. I try to go step by step and not jump too far ahead.

14. How does it feel to be so young with all the star players in Jokerit?

TT: How to say it? I haven't felt like I was young but a part of the team instead. The team's been very good with me and they haven't been looking down at me like: "oh he's young". It's been fun to play in an experienced team.

15. Is there a generational gap between players?

TT: You can see the age difference, older players look older but we're all childish, at least with our topics.

17. What does a 17-year-old do in the sauna nights of the team?

TT: I actually haven't been in any yet. I've always been at national team's camps or something.

19. Did you get the number you wanted?

TT: I did, yeah. I could've taken #18 but Semir (Ben-Amor) has it. But i'm happy with #86, it's good.

23. What are your strengths as a player?

TT: Offensive play and with that playing with the puck, passing, IQ, power play and skill, just the usual skill - skill with hands.

24. And weaknesses?

TT: They are to do with defensive play, strength and physicality. Battles and such but I think I took a step forward last season. That's a good thing.

25. Have you ever been "pressed into a mold" or has your playing style gotten to develop naturally?

TT: As a kid the play was mostly offensive/attacking, I didn't have to think about playing defence. Up until 15 years old, I got to attack pretty freely. Playing defence became more important when I started to play in A-juniors a couple seasons ago.

26. On a scale from 1 to 10 how determined are you?

TT: Maybe 8, feels like an 8.

32. What kind of role are you planning to take with Jokerit next season?

TT: I think a pretty big one. I try to be a top player and not just take others' example but give others example myself too. So that someone in the team can take something out of the way I do things on the ice and off the ice.

35. If you could pick anyone, who would be your car driver?

TT: Nico Manelius for sure. He's been my driver this season. I've had others too, like Riku Hahl but he's not nearly at the same level. Nico’s clearly the best.

36. What are the most important qualifications to be a good driver?

TT: The car is obviously important. Hahl's car is totally awful, he takes a lot of heat for it from the guys too. I wouldn't dare driving with him. Manelius is a steady performer, never lets you down.

38. What sports did you play as a 10-year-old?

TT: Hockey and floorball, probably football (soccer) during the summers at the time too.

42. When did you decide to focus only on hockey?

TT: So when I stopped playing other sports? Three years ago, before that floorball was kind of a side thing, I played a couple of games in the regular season and playoffs.

45. Do you follow floorball or other sports? Go to games?

TT: I don't go to games but I like to watch floorball on TV, it's an interesting sport. Sometimes I watch football too but I don't follow it much. Feels like they never score there.

47. Have you ever played with a wooden stick?

TT: As a kid I did play with a wooden stick.

49. You won the hockey players' golf tournament last summer even though there were more experienced players too. Are you good with all stick games?

TT: Well, I've been pretty good in all of them. I've played golf for a long time and still play it.

50. How is your swing?

TT: Pretty bold, kind of a hockey swing. I don't really care where the ball goes - as long as it goes far.

52. What do you think of off-ice training?

TT: Let's just say it's more stupid than being on the ice but you still gotta do it to be better on the ice.

56. Which word describes your professional relationship (with his coach, Tomek Valtonen), tranquil or colorful?

TT: Colorful of course. At times we're joking around, other times it's more serious but the relationship is really good.

57. Coaching you has been described in many words: good, bad, worse. What are they?

TT: Heh, well... I won't tell them here. He (Tomek) keeps the discipline during practices but sometimes when things haven't gone to a plan I've had to jump on an exercise bike in the middle of a practice.

58. What have been the reasons?

TT: I'll quote Tomek: "when I haven't been present".

59. Have you ever tried to turn the resistance of the bike to zero?

TT: (Laughs) Of course I have and sometimes I've even succeeded.

60. Describe your diet in three words?

TT: Greasy, healthy and good!

64. Your first name is not common for people your age. How did your parents come up with it?

TT: I actually don't even know. Maybe they didn't want a usual Ville*....

(*very common name for men of all ages in Finland)

66. Which of these is the most important: skill, unexpectedness or courage?

TT: Skill!

68. Your longest video game stint?

TT: Six hours, at least. I've played a lot of War of Duty lately.

72. The dumbest thing that has made you upset in hockey?

TT: Probably if I didn't get an assist on a goal even though I should have. Or even worse is if I score and they mark it down for someone else.

79. Have you had any concussions?

TT: I haven't had any, I've managed to always dodge them.*

(*ouch, tho it's good the recent one is his only as far as i remember)

84. In 2011 Team Finland finished in the 5th place at the U-18 tournament. Why only as 5th?

TT: Because we lost to Team Russia in the quarter final, just as well we could have won that game too.

89. You didn't get to be on the ice to accept the SM-Liiga bronze medal (because of the U-18's). When and where did you get it?

TT: I actually still haven't received it, I don't know where it is.

93. What is the population of Helsinki?

TT: There's like 5 million people in Finland so maybe around 500k in Helsinki? (to be exact 596k) Did i really get it right...?

94. Who's the mayor of Helsinki?

TT: I don't know, I barely know the president.

95. Do you think the municipalities in the capital city area should merge?

TT: Luckily I don't have to decide but they probably shouldn't.

96. What do you check first in the news paper?

TT: The sports section.

97. Your favorite tv show?

TT: Putous* was pretty good, I liked a lot of the characters. The grandma was pretty good.

(*Finnish live improvisation comedy/sketch show (there are still new seasons, the latest just finished). Every actor comes up with a humor character with a catchy phrase and one of them wins. "The grandma" is Marja Tyrni and I just got such flashbacks from typing this sentence.)

98. Last book you read?

TT: I don't read many books. The last book was a study book, a Finnish book. I wrote an essay on Tiki (Esa) Tikkanen's biography. An eventful book, great career and a lot of chirps.

99. Who should we ask the 99 questions next?

TT: Riku Hahl could have good stories, he's also seen a lot of the world.

#teuvo teräväinen #teuvo teravainen #carolina hurricanes #canes #hockey #nhl #mp #i knew i had this mag but i thought it was from 2014 and post draft #i really didn't rmbr i've been following turbo for this many years???#good on 16yo me for spending 8 euros on this tho that was excellent thinking

85 notes · View notes

princesspiratecat · 3 years

Photo

The Rise and Fall of the Shepard Family Finale Part 2: Fall 1085

Part 1& Part 2

Part 3 & Part 4

Part 5 & Part 6 & Part 7

Part 8 & Part 9 & Part 10

Part 11 & Part 12 & Part 13

Part 14 & Part 15 & Part 16

Part 17 & Part 18 & Part 19

Part 20 & Part 21 & Part 22

Part 23 & Part 24 & Part 25

Part 26 & Part 27 & Part 28

Part 29 Finale Part 1

“Llywelyn? His name is Llywelyn?” Frances was incredibly confused. “Where did you get these letters?”

“Under the bed. Morwena found them while she was cleaning. Please continue.”

Llywelyn & Algarda

According to the seven letters stashed away in the box, they had both been very young and had met while Llywelyn had served as a mercenary soldier under Aélgarda’s father, a Saxon Ealdorman that had died by the hand of the bastard King in 1067. Both of them had been in their prime and Aélgarda was considered something of a ginger-haired beauty. There were expectations that she would make a grand marriage.

Gwendolyn had heard her father talk about his time fighting for the Saxons before. Her mother had also said that her father had been a fine soldier. He was well respected and handsome, dangerous with a sword, and had a promising career ahead of him.

They had danced together during several feasts at her father’s estate in Chester, and eventually became clandestine lovers. They knew her father would never allow such a match to take place, as there had already been a match made for Aélgarda by the time they met. But the man in question was never mentioned again after the second letter.

They continued their affair for a little over two years, but he was gone most of the time. He eventually got her with child.

Shortly after, he had been sent up north to fight off Norse raiders, and he promised to come back for her and marry her as soon as he was able. Sometime after his departure she wrote that she had suffered a miscarriage, and after six months, he still had not returned. There were no more letters after that.

After they had read them all, and then read them again, they both took some time to digest what had been written. There seemed to be more questions than answers within each letter. Had Llywelyn followed Aélgarda, even though they were both already married? Was Frédérique the daughter of Llywelyn? Had they continued their affair after Gwendolyn’s mother had died? Together, Frances and Gwendolyn tried their best to sort out the pieces of the puzzle and make them fit into a kind of timeline that might give them answers.

“My father talked about his days in Chester on more than one occasion. Is it near Wales?”

“Yes. It’s near the border of Whales, west of here.”

“So, the man in the letters must be my father. Although my father couldn’t read, so how could he have read these? A third person would have had to have been involved, and they would have needed to be very discreet. That’s quite a risk to take!”

“I agree. Yet it happens all the time, you’d be surprised at how many Nobles can’t read. And yet, I would have taken the same risk if I knew I would not see you for months at a time.”

Frances knew that in 1066 Aélgarda ran off to marry Marcelle and gave birth to Frédérique the same year, which was when Gwendolyn had also been born. They journeyed to the Humber River in 1070 from Rotherham, a small market town. Frances had only been two and Gwendolyn four. Unlike Frances, Gwendolyn remembered the journey to Grimsby, and she remembered what had come after.

“It could not have been mere coincidence that your family arrived here around the same time, and in the same location, as my family. Especially considering how long of a journey it is,” he said.

They both wondered on what grounds Llywelyn had sought her out. Was it because they wanted to be together, or had he been looking for employment? Most of the great men Llywelyn had served were already dead or had had their lands seized by the crown. So it was a real possibility that he sought her out for protection, especially since she had married a Norman man.

“He needed work. I remember we had to sell one of his beloved swords just to have enough to eat. It was a desperate time.”

The other possibility was that he knew Frédérique was his daughter and wanted to be near her. Frédérique had invited Gwendolyn to their estate several times, and each time Llywelyn had accompanied her. He could have watched her from afar, and that might have been enough for him.

“That would explain my father’s behavior. He must have thought that Frédérique was not his child, regardless of what the truth really is. Since he knew of your father’s indiscretions with Olric’s wife, he must have also questioned my brother’s parentage as well! I can’t imagine how it must have plagued his mind! The proof is in his treatment of them and their piteous inheritance.”

“Of course! And it completely explains his treatment of me, although it does also speak to his vengeful character. Now I understand why he sent us away, we were reminders of my father. Your mother wanted to protect us, for my father’s sake! ”

He nodded, remembering everything that had happened with a tinge of shame.

He could see Gwendolyn’s mind racing now, and Frances knew he would have to tell her everything that had happened the night his father had broken off their engagement. It was something he had not gotten around to doing, mostly because he had wanted them to forget. He took a deep breath.

“I fear I have not told you everything that my father said the night he cut off our engagement. But let me tell you now. According to him, she actually wanted us to marry and had pushed it from nearly the moment you arrived here.”

“What?!”

He then relayed everything that had occurred that night in it’s entirety. How his mother long considered Llywelyn an honorable man due to his serving the Welsh king. How she had not only preferred for him a match with Gwendolyn over the Merchants, but that she had actually helped to arrange it. He told her of his anger and how he had camped out under the stars, which had been the reason why he never got a chance to say goodbye.

“For a long time I didn’t think about what he meant, because I had been too angry. But then I realized she had arranged for us to walk together, alone. Do you remember all those times she said she was too busy to come with us?” Gwendolyn nodded. “Well, she knew I already liked you, and wanted you to break off the match with Oswald and marry me instead. She must have figured that time alone together would make us fall in love.”

“That is why they sent him away! According to Frédérique, he came to visit me twice, and both times he had been sent away. Did you know that?”

“No. But it hardly surprises me. For his part, I know my father initially agreed because you had a good dowry, you were an heiress of a rather small fortune. But after he had already helped himself to it, he must have gotten ahold of the letters and used them to further justify his cause. Or, he read the letters and then spent your dowry. I’m not sure which.”

Gwendolyn’s eyes bulged at this information, and she had to sit down. It was an incredible story, and one that she would not have believed if she had not have seen it unfold with her own eyes.

“So, I have been groomed me for the position of being your wife! Why did you not tell me of this before?!”

Frances shrugged. “It is a painful memory to speak of, and I didn’t want to stir up fresh anguish for you. You’ve suffered enough already. What good would have come of it?” Gwendolyn acknowledged there was merit in his reason, but chided him for not giving her the choice of knowing.

“You’re right. I should have told you when I first found you. I’m sorry.” But her mind was racing again and she hardly heard what he had said.

“He must have discovered the letters after Aélgarda’s death, as there can be no other explanation. She must have hidden them away somewhere and he, or someone else, discovered them. He refused our marriage and sent me away to get back at them both, even after they were dead!”

“Yes, he was petty and vengeful. What I want to know is what on earth made her keep them? That I cannot understand! Did your father return them? Or did she somehow get them back after he died? Maybe Llywelyn had them and my father got them after he sold your property. Have you ever seen this box before?”

“No, never. It’s too fine a box to have escaped my notice. If he did have them, he certainly would not have put them in that box. In fact, I do not recall her ever visiting us when my father was alive either. Only Marcelle came to collect rents and sup with us. He and my father used to talk business. He used to bring us cherries.”

Neither one of them spoke for some time, as they were busy going over the facts in their own heads. They both agreed that had Marcelle known then about the letters, he would not have been so kind. Although Frances didn’t agree with his father’s ways, he could at least understand him a bit better.

“He never was unfaithful to my Mother that any of us knew about, so it must have shattered him to read these letters. He had once loved her very much... as much as a man like my father can love anyone. I do not believe that any of my siblings were sired by Llywelyn- not even Frédérique. We look too much alike, and I see nothing of you in her face. Now that I think of it, you were born the same year as Frédérique, so Llywelyn would have had to have been a very busy man for all that to have happened in only a year! And it means my mother would have had to lie about losing her baby. Yet if she loved him, why would she do that? It’s quite clear from the letters that she loved him very much.”

“Unless she thought she would never see him again. She may have lied in order to marry your Father, whom had come from a noble family. Perhaps she figured that she would be better off with a well connected Norman than a poor Welsh solider. She could have been forced to do it for the greater good, to protect your sister.”

“I doubt it. But it is possible.....” a look of worry crossed his face, and then hint of anger.

In the end they both agreed that no good could possibly come from keeping the letters, as it called into question the parentage of too many. It also painted three of their four parents in a very unfavorable light.

The facts were there. Aélgarda had been lovers with not one, but two men while engaged to someone else of her father’s choosing. Llywelyn had been a seducer of women and clearly had no respect for the marital status of others. Marcelle had been a miser and a thief who sought revenge on helpless children, even children that were most likely his own.

Frances lifted the parchment to the fireplace and stared at the contents. It angered him to know that such small things had caused so much anguish to him, and his wife especially.

“Let them burn,” he sneered, as he tossed one of the letters into the fire. “I know the truth. I know what a good wife she was to him, and what she meant to us, and that’s really all that matters. She was no whore, and I won’t have anyone speak of her that way, ever!”

“Let us burn them all,” Gwendolyn said.

When the house was quiet and still, they made their way downstairs and watched as the fire flickered while hungrily devouring the remaining letters. It went unspoken, but they each understood they would tell no one of them.

“Are you ashamed of our parents?” He asked her while he watched the bright orange light reflected in her eyes. It was one of those rare moments that he really had no idea what she was thinking. He pulled up chairs for them both so they could sit awhile without being heard.

“Yes....and no. In some ways I am shocked, but in others, I feel relieved to know the answers now. Your father’s behavior towards myself had always weighed on me, because I blamed myself. Now I know it was because of nothing I did, but because of what I represented. He used my father’s status as an excuse, but it was really not the reason.” She pinched the corners of her mouth, then turned back to the fire.

“Yet the feeling that seems to make the biggest impression on me, is one of their love. Despite everything, I’m glad they had been lovers, and I’m happy that she still held my father in high regard even after his death. She wanted to honor him by honoring his children, and for that, I will always honor her.” Her heart felt easier now, and she almost found the situation humorous. Almost.

They treaded up the stairs to their chambers. It had been a long, exhausting evening.

Gwendolyn chuckled to herself. “What I really want to know is, who was the man she was originally engaged to? He must have been quite awful for her to have chosen a mercenary soldier and a Norman over a match her father preferred! The poor fellow. I feel a bit bad for him.”

Frances was more wistful. He didn’t like talking about his family, as there was so much he didn’t know, and so much to resent. Would they have survived if they had allied with the King or a powerful Norman family such as his father’s? What would it take for the King to stop his sheer brutality to the Saxon people? By the time his reign was over, would there be anything left of their language, or laws, or culture?

“Perhaps he died before anything ever came of it. The Saxons paid a heavy price to the Danes with many lives, even before the King conquered these lands. And after, all of the men on her side were completely wiped away, as if they had never existed at all. Their fortunes, that had taken decades to build, were the first thing to go. Her family was one of the wealthiest and most powerful, and now there is nothing but dust. Sometimes I wonder that I was born at all. It truly seems a miracle.”

She sensed his sadness and caressed his cheek, then embraced him.

“It is a miracle. You’re a testament to the power of love amid war. Whatever happens in the world, love always seems to have a way of burning bright, sometimes even against all odds.” He smiled at her words because they were wise beyond her years, and they were true. He thought of his mother then, and how it was love that had driven and guided her throughout most of her life.

She had gotten her wish.

#sims 2 stories #sims 2 challenges #sims 2 pictures #finale

20 notes · View notes

moonflms · 3 years

Text

➷｡˚head-start! — nct/wayv hendery

PROLOGUE ༄ - story where you compete in the annual hackathon led by sandbox! entering the 13th batch of sandbox's 'start-up' program, you plan on following seo dalmi and her path to success... that's until you were given a head start; initiating your own journey.

—a spin off to 2020 -drama, "start-up" !

INSPIRATION ༄ - seo dalmi & start- up (k-drama)

PAIRING ༄ - smiley developer! hendery x determined developer! fem reader

GENREs ༄ - fluff, competition, spin-off, developer au, start-up, hackathon.

W. COUNT ༄ - around 1k+

NOTES ༄ - cussing is present. second oneshot here ! lowercased. expect grammar and typo errors. simple wording. those who hasn't watched start-up might get confused a bit so i apologize in advance for that,, please ignore errors as this was originally a hd x oc story.

do not repost. copyright belongs to @moonflms 2021. reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! originally posted on my twitter (@suhhvsco). enjoy reading!

—start

"in ten minutes, the annual sandbox hackathon will commence! developers, please proceed to the auditorium."

a notice was blasted off through the speakers surrounding the registration. the venue was flooded with people— as expected. the annual 'start-up' program was back for its 13th year! the lobby was filled with staff, investors, and people with varying capabilities.

signing the last few forms, you left the register. you looked around the venue as it was overwhelming. the building was tall and huge. the interior displayed vibrant colors almost everywhere! it was also rowdy as all that could be heard was buzzing from everyone's chatters and the excitement that was clearly evident.

going with the plan you created before-hand, you accomplished the very first step. you were now standing in korea's very own silicon valley, sandbox!

separating yourself from the crowd, you found a small area where you could get yourself and your thoughts straight. you took a look at your id card; skimming through your portrait and details. the customized id was clipped to the company's signature red sling. you felt proud.

"kim y/n, independent participant." you read off the card.

you also felt pressured as you came to the program alone.

clearing your pesky thoughts, you started to wander around the area.

you dreamt on starting her own company, but the lack of experience was keeping you from achieving it. hearing that sandbox was opening the "start-up" program once again, gave you a tingling feeling. it was a great opportunity for you and your friends who had the same goal. you felt like you had a chance to win as you remember seo dalmi. one of korea's known ceo's —seo dalmi, started as an aspiring ceo who was a college drop-out.

not necessarily an inspiration, but you did look up to the successful ceo. dalmi starting her career rough proved that you still had a chance. at least for you, it was better to try than staying in a stuffy office listening to people's complaints.

you set yourself to win the competition and the competition solely. sure, you were willing to make some friends or what not, but let's say you're determined to get your ass out of that hell-like job.

you and your friends applied for the opportunity. however, you were the only one who passed the screening, up for the first round of elimination; the hackathon.

the hackathon simply determines the position you'll be working as. you were okay with being a group member, but why not aim for that ceo spot? the hackathon is where a company has less than 2 days to create a start-up. winning groups advances to the next rounds.

you continued to look around the surroundings, admiring the insides of sandbox's office. vibrant colors, wide area, and a huge digital clock that says 10:25.

wait– 10:25? you only had five minutes left before the hackathon commences!

"all start-up participants, staff, and mentors; in less than five minutes the broadcasts will begin. please gather inside the sandbox auditorium asap." another announcement was made."

a stampede started as fellow developers and aspirers started to run heading to the auditorium. the pushing became more intense as loud buzzing voices blocked the building's music. you ran along with them, to avoid being trampled on.

—

the doorway was now visible as you slowly saw yourself heading into the venue. the dim room was filled with colorful spotlights. cameras and staff were standing on the platforms by the sides and mentors are slowly taking their seats up the stage, having the view of this year's qualifiers. people were in awe as they saw start-up's biggest shareholders come up stage; mrs. seo dalmi and her husband— dosan, ms. injae, and even mr. han jipyeong. people's attentions were on those particular mentors, not even acknowledging the presence of the rest.

your wrist was aching as you went running and dragging a trolley full of your gadgets and essentials. the auditorium was quickly filling up and not much space was left. you weren't claustrophobic, but you disliked how people were unintentionally pushing one another as a result of excitement. you lost count of the number of times people stepped on you flats.

after a few shifting, you spotted an open space, nearly by the center, and was just a right distance from the huge display monitor. you quickly rushed to the area, which you did. you succeeded to take the spot, but you were now on the floor, on your ass.

out of your actions and adding the fact that you could be a bit clumsy, you accidentally bumped into someone. with the weight of your bag, it made the impact between your butt and the ground a bit painful.

you hissed at the sting until you saw a guy panicking in front of you. he held out his hand for you to take. "the fU— OH I AM SO SORRY" you took his hand, slowly standing up making him refrain from spazzing more.

"don't worry! i bumped into you, i apologize- " you dusted your jeans and looked at the guy.

he was quite cute, a 'hotshot' per sé. "are you really sure? i didn't mean to block your way, but you did kinda bumped into me" he chuckled as he stood beside the girl, still double-checking if you were absolutely fine. (or he could be secretly be checking you out– anyways;)

you assured the guy once again. "well, i guess we had the same intention" both were now occupying the space you spotted earlier, and it was alright and still spacious to move around without hitting anyone with your elbow. you looked at the guy beside you who kept an eye on your movements from time to time. "came here alone?" you asked.

he shook his head "i was with a few friends, i guess i flocked out because all the people" you felt a bit guilty as you knew you could've been the reason he lost them in this pit. your worry was visible from the outside, so he immediately re-assured the lady "don't worry, all things are forgiven! at least i'm not lonely, i met someone to keep me company." he smiled at you "i'm hendery! and you are?..." he spotted your name tag, "kim y/n... y/n-ssi, you have a pretty name by the way." you grinned as you shook his hand.

"ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the annual start-up competition! a competition wherein your dreams become a reality!" the crowd cheered.

"i am yoon seon hak, ceo of sandbox and SH venture capital. it is nice to meet you all!" sandbox's ceo greeted.

"i am glad to say that sandbox's 'start-up' project is opening it's doors once again for its 13th year. this would not be possible without the undying support of our investors before you and of course, the participation of 386 aspiring starters. we at sandbox are deeply grateful."

everyone clapped as the ceo continued her speech.

"now the first step of the competition will commence; the hackathon. through the hackathon's challenge, only 40 participants will be able to receive a ceo position. to their advantage, they will be able to pick four from the remaining participants creating their own company and start-up. in the end, investors will only select five teams to move into sandbox, moving on to the finals. in a minute, the mechanics of the hackathon will be sent to your accounts. "

multiple rings and dings went off, everyone rushing to open their mobiles.

"may the best man win. good luck." the ceo showed her infamous sweet smile.

the challenge started flashing through the monitor, gasps and sighs were filling the air. hendery beside you had his mouth open a bit, quickly typing as many answers as he could. you on the other hand, was quite prepared as you did some research. you sent answers after another, typing speedily. you were focused as everything around you started to blur, only you and the monitor.

some of the participants were already burned out, the pressure of the challenge giving them a mental block. some couldn't access their phones, and simply some couldn't send their answers right away thanks to their shitty data.

from up the stage, the view was overwhelming for the mentors as they reminisce about their past selves. exactly in their shoes a few years back.

hendery shrugged his shoulders as he started to feel a bit tense. you on the other hand, started to feel your thumb soring from the aggressive tapping of her phone screen.

ten minutes has past and the challenge was now over. a small break period started as the staff crew began their calculations.

you took a few seconds for your eyes to close. with eyes still closed, you heard a few 'hey!'s from your side. you slowly opened your eyes as you sighed off some relief. another step of her plan accomplished. you glanced at your noisy side to see hendery reunited with his set of friends. "well good for him." you thought.

you nervously continued to look up to the monitors, waiting for the results. your nails tapped the backside of your phone, creating soft noises. "don't sweat it, you've done well." you looked over to the voice to see hendery smiling. "thanks, you did as well, hendery." you returned. "oh yeah! thank you for keeping me company for a bit, it was nice knowing you y/n-ssi."

"those are my idiots for friends i came with," hendery stifled a laugh "you don't seem you have any colleagues, don't you?" hendery asked as you looked at him, shaking your head.

"i'm fine on my own, why do you ask?" you questioned.

"you seem lonely, but you know you have me now. and i'm also willing to make you my teammate once i get my ceo spot" hendery smoldered as you eyed him.

"i'd accept the offer, but i believe a team can only have one ceo, hendery." you gave back.

" i didn't expect to find a rival this quick, but we'll see i guess." hendery took out his hand once again for you to shake, which you immediately did.

your competitiveness was burning inside you. "i guess i'll be side-tracking a bit from my original goal, i'll be taking this as a head-start then"

once their hands broke away, the monitor started to flash numbers. "all selected ceos, please proceed to the stage to be acknowledged."

you quickly skimmed through the displayed ranks, finding your number. "106.. 022, holy shit— 127!" you quickly checked your card for your number; 127. you were on the list. you smiled as you celebrated your success on your own. you quickly looked to your sides as you look for hendery. once you did, you saw the male already approaching you.

"guessing from your look, congratulations!" hendery offered a hug which you gladly took without realizing. "but don't get too hopeful y/n-ssi, 117 is also there." hendery pointed out to his own number as well. "have fun beating wayv tech, ceo-nim" hendery smiled as he took your hand, planting a small peck. hendery left heading to the stage. heating up, you wiped your hand against your jeans. "i don't mind at all to be honest" you thought to yourself.

you made your way up the platform, seeing the rest of the start-up participants. a ceo shirt was being distributed around the stage. you looked around to find your rival, who was standing a few people behind, eyeing your moves with a smile.

you planned on following seo dalmi's steps to her success, but you didn't expect—even the least, that you could possibly find your own nam dosan in your life as well.

—end

➷｡min's notes: the competition and the plot in general are revolved under the k-drama start up, including the mentions of the drama's casts. in no way, this depicts the actual process of an actual hackathon. p.s, i simp for hendery. have a nice/day or night! <3

42 notes · View notes

acertainsomeone · 3 years

Text

Surrendered-EdSer OS

Eda did not know what she was doing, or why she was doing it. This was the first time in 25 years of her life that she had felt defeated and helpless. Caught in a series of unfortunate circumstances, and life’s treacherous ploughs, she was once again left alone. Her parent's untimely death had left scars on her soul, she could not escape the demons of her past. When Serkan entered her life, she believed that life would be easier. She will finally have someone, who will help her to breathe in the confines of a dark, closed room.

Little did she know, life does not work according to our beliefs. Destiny had plans for her, thrilling yet gruesome. She had imagined getting graduated, with a degree in landscape architect with hope and happiness in eyes. She did graduate, but there was nothing instead of anguish, and loneliness in her eyes.

Not even in her wildest dreams she had imagined to lose Serkan, her first true love. She was so used to be pampered by his love and affection that for once not being on the receiving end broke her into pieces.

It had been eight months since that fateful day. They heard that his plane went missing, they were supposed to get married. Once she had waited for her parents to come and take her away, but they never came back. This time she waited for Serkan to come and make her his lawful wife but he never.

If this trauma wasn’t enough already, she was met by another volcano that hit her so hard that she couldn’t believe she had managed to survive that pain.

He forgot her.

He didn’t have any memories of her.

He hated her.

Serkan Bolat was no longer her Robot Bolat.

After his arrival to Art Life, Eda had imagined it would be difficult to revive those memories he had forgotten but she hadn’t imagined that it would be nearly impossible to win back his love. It was as if he had returned with a stone instead of heart.

Her numerous attempts, pleadings, actions, could not move him. She wondered what was missing that he could not see her as his soulmate anymore.

She tried and tried and one fine day, Eda gave up, for his sake. It took a great deal of courage for her to accept the fact that he was not in love with her, and he won’t fall for her again. It was useless to torment him with her forceful behavior.

He wanted the holding. Of course

It was exactly why he had borne her existence around him for six months otherwise, he would have kicked her out of his life the moment he back to Art Life that day.

Yes, she was giving up on love. Not because she was a coward but because she was selfless, and she chose his happiness over hers. His happiness lied with his work and Selin.

Selin was his logical decision. She was the one, who fitted his lifestyle.

After the failure of her attempts, Eda decided to accept the job proposal from a renowned architect company in Paris, Alcmea.

She had been disregarding it for his sake but eventually Eda decided that it was meant for her. She was longer meant for Serkan or Istanbul. She had to leave for his peace and her sanity. There was no point of living in Istanbul after selling her shares to Serkan, there was no point of breathing the same air after losing him to Selin.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

One last time

She breathed nervously, wearing her silver earrings gifted by Aydan Bolat herself as a graduation present. Ferit and Ceren had thrown her a part before her farewell party, there was no excuse to avoid for otherwise they all would have thought that she is leaving with a sad heart.

Not that they were believing her otherwise.

She had to wear the mask of a jubilated Eda, who finally got the chance to work abroad, and make her dreams come true. She had a long way to go and Eda had decided that she won’t allow her failed love story to come in the way of her career. That’s something she was assertive of.

Clad in a long black evening gown, she looked breathtaking like always.

Yet he won’t notice. Neither her dress nor the charm bracelet she was wearing tonight. Not as a hope but as a way to get rid of some memories.

If she had decided to move on, and leave everything behind, she had to let go.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Eda arrived late at the party; it was her way to avoid him. She wanted to meet everyone one last time for few minutes and leave as soon as possible.

He was looking for someone, her heart did not skip a beat because it wasn’t her. His eyes immediately caught Selin’s and she could tell his eyes only searched her.

Ferit announced everyone to get on the floor with their respective partners for a dance. Well, she didn’t have one so he offered her his hand immediately. Probably to save her from the embarrassment.

“You don’t have to, I’m fine.” She muttered shyly.

“Oh, come on! By the way, I wasn’t going to invite Selin, Ceren insisted because then it would’ve been odd.”

“That wouldn’t have changed anything! There’s no way he’s coming back even if Selin isn’t around.”

“He’s brainwashed by her Eda-”

Eda cut him off immediately, “Don’t- Ferit please Don’t. Have you brought the ring? Ceren is anticipating the proposal, if you’re late this time she will probably fly to Paris with me.” She joked, hiding the pain behind her eyes.

“All’s set. It will be soon, and you’ll be the first person to hear about it.” He winked and twirled her.

He caught her.

She was in his arms just like old times.

Breathe Eda. Not Anymore.

She held her head high in defiance, acting unaffected by his touch. She didn’t blame him for anything. It did hurt her though that he didn’t keep his promise of falling in love with her hundred times.

He had said that if he was born a hundred times, he will fall for her. He couldn’t live up to his words in the same life. Yet, she had no complaints, she accepted this as destiny’s decision and decided to remain determine in her stance.

She was acting good enough, not even for a second he could feel her nervousness or accelerated heartbeat.

She remained silent, closely following their twirling feet, and entwined hands. Acting as if perfecting this dance was the only thing she was interested.

He broke the silence by clearing his throat. “When is your flight?”

“Tonight” Her reply was simple, devoid of any emotions.

“have a safe flight Eda Yildiz.”

“Sao” She passed an awfully professional smile, avoiding to look at him in the eye. Though she could feel his gaze on her. His eyes hadn’t left her face for a second.

Why does he want now?

He placed his hands on her waist, his masculine hands perfectly fitted her petite waist like always.

Her arms were entwined around his neck securely. One last time, she wished to touch him. There were boundaries by inhaling his wood scent was more than enough.

Gladly, he pulled her closer by himself. She didn’t have to struggle. There was nothing intimate about that gesture. He was just dancing.

‘You look beautiful.’ He uttered silently. Eda knew him enough to tell that his compliment escaped his lips without taking permission from his mind.

It doesn’t matter.

“You too.”

“Beautiful? Me?” He raised his eyebrow in curiosity.

“Pardon if you don’t appreciate to be referred with a feminine adjective.” He was trying to be funny but Eda was beyond exhausted to indulge in a friendly conversation. She was not going to surrender.

‘I- I didn’t mean that.” He attempted to explain himself. “Where would you be staying in Paris?”

Eda wanted to tell him that she had chosen the apartment that he had bought for them few days before their wedding. She wanted to tell him that their apartment in Paris was waiting for them but she decided against it.

“Deniz arranged a place.” Something inside her pushed her to say that.

“His place?” He asked incredulously, tightening his grip around her waist.

“You need not to know.” She denied him simply. A part of her knew that he wasn’t affected by these childish jealousy stunts but yet her impulsive self couldn’t from being so open about it.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my place to ask you about it.”

He waited for her to say anything but she remained awfully quiet. He was not used to this. He was not used to her ignoring him.

Eda began to feel suffocated, the tips of his fingers were drumming against her bare back, synching with the music of piano. She had to let go or she would faint in his arms or breakdown into tears immediately.

“Excuse me.”

She distanced herself from his embrace, they hadn’t realized in the darkness of the room that they had been barely inches away from each other.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

This place was special, they had their contract right at this spot, fought, expressed love, he broke up wit her here, and the last beautiful memory was, when he gifted her that charm bracelet.

She was wearing it tonight.. Of course, he hadn’t noticed that too.

Eda was staring at the stars, this was her last night in Istanbul. She didn’t plan to come back ever.

“It must be hard for you eda hanim” Her thought process was disrupted by Erdem. Their bond had strengthened over the course of eight months.

“You know very well that I have seen experienced something even harder than this Erdem.” She replied in misery but both knew that Eda was talking about something. Something that was known by him but not anyone else in that office.

“Don’t you think he should know?” Erdem said, scared of her reaction

“There is nothing he should know, as if what he knows already had made any difference”

“I always wonder if I had told fifi about my feelings in a much serious manner, she might had stayed.” Erdem sighed. This side of Erdem was only known to Eda, even she was amazed that this one existed.

“We can't stop the ones who want to leave”

“But he deserves to know- at least- about the baby” Erdem hesitated, he did not want to bring this up but considering this as her last night in Istanbul he wished she’d listen to him.

“Erdem git.” Eda looked at him surprised. Her eyes brimmed with tears and pain. She wasn’t mad at him but surprised that he chose to remind her of that night.

“I’m stupid, an absolute fool but I do know one thing that no father deserves-” He wasn’t stopping, he mustered the courage to finish his sentence.

“I’ve already burdened him with the forgotten memories of our love. I can’t make him think about a baby who died before coming to this world.” Hiding her pain behind her mask, she took a sip from her wine. Showing as if talking about this wasn’t shattering her soul into a million pieces.

“Erdem, You and leyla are the only ones who know about my miscarriage. You have kept your word till now, I expect that both of you will keep your word and continue to hide this truth from everyone.”

“Till my last breath, Eda hanim.” Erdem’s voice broke, he hugged Eda instantly. She led out a chuckle and hugged him back.

Erdem was indeed annoying but he had been there for her at a very crucial stage of her life. His support helped her through the most difficult phase of her life.

She had kept her pregnancy as a secret. She was not in the condition to come to terms with the fact herself.

It was only leyla and erdem, who knew. They were there, that night when it happened.

“I have to go.” She sniffed.

Erdem bid her goodbye and turned his back to find a stumped figure of none other than Serkan Bolat himself.

They froze.

What do you know about pain?

It never ends

What do you about healing?

It takes time

What do you know about realizations?

They arrive when it’s too late

#eda yildiz #edser #serkan bolat #sen çal kapimi #sen cal kapimi #sen çal kapımı #sen cal kapımı #turkishdizi #hande erçel #kerem bürsin #edser fic

73 notes · View notes

emachinescat · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump day 25 / alt. 8 - allergies

Once again, I tried to write a story today, and because I’m sick with Covid, didn’t have the energy to finish the whole thing. I do plan on finishing this up and posting the full thing once I’m recovered enough to do so. Until then, I want to post what I have so that I can still claim victory for Febuwhump! :) Please be aware that I wrote this while having a low-grade fever and that it’s not been edited, so if it is clunky or has issues, that’s why. I’ll fine-tune everything when I finish writing it. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the rough product I have for you so far! TW: PTSD

Mac + Allergies + The Goodest Boy

Angus MacGyver hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in over four weeks. He’d tell you otherwise if you asked, of course, but the evidence was overwhelming. Every day, Mac's face grew paler, the darkness under his eyes deepened, and the look in his eyes became more distant. Jack had seen this happen to many soldiers – hell, it had happened to him. This tour hadn’t been as bad as some of the previous ones Jack had experienced, but in the past …

Well, suffice it to say that Jack Dalton knew a thing or two about PTSD.

And as ugly of a look as it had been on him, as it was on anyone else, nothing had prepared him for how much it would hurt to see it on his little burger buddy. Shoot, when Jack had signed up for another tour to keep an eye on the kid, it was to keep him safe in the Sandbox, but now that he was home, Jack felt like Mac was in just as much danger of losing himself here as he had been losing his life in Afghanistan. That was part of the reason Jack had found a place in L.A. instead of going straight back home to Texas. That, and a potential job for the two of them he was investigating at the DXS, but ultimately, it wouldn’t have mattered where the jobs were. Jack had already decided to locate himself wherever Mac was.

Jack had tried to help the best that he could. He’d been on call all hours of the night, had had Mac over at his place when the nightmares got too bad, had crashed at Mac’s place whenever his roommate was out of town and Mac couldn’t be alone. He’d tried to get Mac to talk many times, but one thing he’d learned about the kid was that although he could go on and on for hours about geek squad science stuff, he was a master at talking a lot without actually saying anything important. And he didn’t talk about himself at all.

Jack knew there was a lot to unpack. Hell, Mac’s C.O. had been killed in front of him. The kid had screamed awake from many a nightmare about that one. He’d nearly been killed multiple times, been under fire, disarmed over a hundred IEDs in a single day, had been through hell right alongside Jack in the Sandbox, and Jack sometimes had to remind himself that the kid was still, well, a kid. Fresh out of school, hadn’t even finished college before joining the army. He’d seen more violence and bloodshed than most people twice his age. His skill set put him right there in the middle of the death and danger, a twenty-year-old bomb nerd with a glowing neon target on his back.

And now he was back home, and everything was different. Jack knew this because he had been here too, once, not because Mac talked about it. He understood exactly what his friend was going through – he was home, but home wasn’t the same. He smiled when he spoke to his friends, his roommate, even Jack, sometimes, but the smile was hollow and so were his eyes. The nightmares followed him wherever he went and he couldn’t adjust, and he kept all the turmoil to himself, not wanting to be a bother, not thinking he deserved sympathy or whatever help his friends wanted to give him.

Finally, Jack reached the point where he had no idea what to do. What had ultimately pulled him out of his own personal hell after the worst tour of his career had been a very good friend, but no one, not Jack, not Bozer, not Mac’s childhood friend Penny, seemed able to penetrate the layers of protection that Mac had built up around himself.

Maybe, he thought, as he stared pensively at the computer screen, Mac needed a friend who didn’t try to get him to talk at all, one who would just be there for him and listen and drool all over his hand and tak dumps in his backyard. Maybe, Jack ventured, the light bulb going off in his brain at the ad for the Battle Buddy Foundation and their service dogs for vets, Mac needed a dog.

Bozer was out of town at some movie convention the next weekend, so Jack put his plan into motion. He hadn’t had a chance to run it by Mac’s oldest friend yet, but he knew that if a dog would help Mac, then Bozer wouldn’t mind a new addition to the household. Bozer would just be in for a surprise when he got home.

It had taken a lot of trips to animal shelters to find just the right fit for his partner, but Jack had been determined. He’d tried the Battle Buddy Foundation, but since he wasn’t looking for a service dog for himself, that had been a no-go. Plus, there were just so many hoops to jump through and qualifications to meet and interviews to be had, and Mac needed help now. So he had scoured shelters and rescues, looking for a dog of just the right size and temperament for his buddy. The next two weeks were going to be a trial basis, and if Mac and the pup clicked, Jack would seal the deal. If not, then there was already another interested party lined up for the adoption.

The dog’s name was Cheese, and he was a four-year-old golden retriever mix who loved cuddles, thrived on attention and exercise, and even looked a little like Mac with his long, flowing blonde locks. Also, Jack couldn’t get past how perfectly the names synced up – how could he pass up the possibility of Mac and Cheese?

As Jack had predicted, Mac fell in love with Cheese the moment he laid eyes on him.

“Jack!” Mac grinned, falling to one knee right in the middle of the sidewalk. “Who’s this?” Jack let Cheese wag his little tail happily over to Mac and watched with rising excitement as the pooch immediately began nuzzling and licking a laughing Mac all over. He watched as Mac scratched Cheese’s furry head, found the sweet spot behind the ears, and buried his hands in the fur around the dog’s neck.

“This,” Jack said, “is your new best friend.”

Mac looked up from having his face licked off and narrowed his eyes. “What did you do to Bozer?”

Jack tried to act like he wasn’t offended that Bozer had been Mac’s go-to on the “best friend” front. “Nothing.”

“Then are you leaving me?” Despite the joke, a bit of uncertainty had wormed its way into Mac’s voice, and Jack could have kicked himself.

“No, man, I don’t mean it like that! Cheese ain’t replacing anybody, he’s just the newest member of the family!”

A hesitant half-smile pulled at Mac’s lips. “You got me a dog?” He cocked his head. Cheese mimicked him, ears flopping as his head tilted adorably to one side. “I’m sorry – did you say his name is Cheese?”

Jack nodded proudly.

Mac kept scratching Cheese behind the ears, but he stared at Jack suspiciously. “Did you name him that?”

Jack’s nod turned into a vigorous shake. “No, that’s what he was called at the shelter, man. It helped me pick him out for ya. It was like fate.”

“Fate?” Mac looked like he really didn’t want to know.

“Mac and Cheese, hoss.”

“No,” Mac said shortly. “Just… no.”

Mac ended up keeping the name.

It wasn’t that he liked the lame pun or anything, but Cheese had apparently been called Cheese for a long time and refused to respond to anything else. Mac wanted to call him Fibonacci, but one look into those big brown eyes that lit up when Mac said Cheese, and one glimpse of the way his tail flopped around excitedly at the sound of his name, made Mac change his mind. Cheese obviously liked being Cheese, and who was Mac to try to change him?

“Besides,” Jack pointed out no less than five times on the day he introduced them, “Mac and Cheese belong together, man. Cheese without Mac is pretty good, I’ll admit, but Mac without Cheese is just a noodle.” He shook his head sadly, and Mac couldn’t help but grin. “Just a limp noodle.”

Cheese slept in the bed with Mac that night, curled up close beside him, warm and big and furry. Mac didn’t have nightmares, mostly because he didn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep. He could feel a cold coming on, and the persistent scratch in his throat kept him firmly tethered in that awful middle ground between waking and sleeping, where sleep is the most appealing thing you can imagine, but it is also the most unattainable. It would have been a thoroughly miserable night, except Cheese was wonderful company, and his soft snores, twitchy feet, and dog dreams were a balm to Mac’s sleepless jitters.

Despite how much Mac loved Cheese already, he spent a large portion of the night thinking of reasons why it wasn’t practical for him to have a dog. Bozer didn’t know about Cheese, for one. Jack claimed that everything was fine, that Boze would be completely on board once he got home. But Mac didn’t just want to spring a pet on his roommate. Having a dog was a huge responsibility, one that wouldn’t affect just Mac, but anyone he lived with as well. Of course, there was the fact that Mac himself wasn’t prepared to take care of a dog at all, either, even if Jack had taken it upon himself to buy half of Pet Smart on his way back from the shelter. Mac felt like he could barely take care of himself half the time; what made him think that he could keep another creature alive and healthy?

Peña had died on his watch, after all. How long until his dog got hurt because of him?

It was at that thought that Mac realized he was spiraling into very dangerous thought patterns, and he only managed to drag himself away from them by distracting himself with the snuffling noises Cheese made while he slept and by feeling the soft warmth of his fur.

Maybe Jack was right – maybe a dog would do Mac some good.

Of course, there was the one problem that Mac found himself avoiding more earnestly the more attached he found himself growing to Cheese. It was perhaps the most glaring reason for not having a dog, but it was also he one Mac avoided acknowledging at all costs, and yet he knew full well that he was not getting a cold as he had told himself when the symptoms first started. He recognized that tell-tale itch at the back of the throat and the heaviness of the head all too well, though he’d held out hope he’d grow out of it someday. The truth was in the sneezes, though, which started after midnight and only got more numerous and violent as the night progressed.

No, there had been a reason that Archimedes had been an outside dog. There was a reason Mac felt like he had a head cold coming on. And there was a reason that he should have told Jack no the second his friend had made it clear that Cheese was to be his dog.

Angus MacGyver was allergic to dogs.

16 notes · View notes

eddie-redmayne-italian-blog · 4 years

Photo

photos by Frank Ockenfels

The Long Journey and Intense Urgency of Aaron Sorkin's 'The Trial of the Chicago 7'

by Rebecca Keegan September 23, 2020, 6:00 am PDT

The director of the Netflix film, which stars Sacha Baron Cohen, Jeremy Strong, Eddie Redmayne and Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, reveals why it took nearly 20 years to get the project about the politically motivated prosecution of protestors made and why it couldn't be more timely: "I never imagined today would go so much like 1968."

In October 2019, hundreds of protesters marched down Chicago’s Michigan Avenue toward the Hilton, chanting phrases like "No justice, no peace!" and "A people united will never be defeated!" as police in riot gear descended on the crowd with billy clubs and tear gas. Earnest and energized, clad in 1960s period costumes and flanked by vintage police vehicles, this group thought they were acting out the past, staging a scene from Aaron Sorkin’s The Trial of the Chicago 7. As it turned out, they were performing the future, too.

Sorkin’s film, which opens in select theaters Sept. 25 and hits Netflix on Oct.  16, tells the story of the riots at the 1968 Chicago Democratic National Convention and the circus-like trial of political activists that followed the next year. Thanks to Hollywood development hell, the movie is arriving 14  years after Steven Spielberg first mentioned the idea to Sorkin but just as its themes and plot points — civil unrest, a self-proclaimed "law and order" president’s vilification of protesters (Nixon then, Trump now), the police’s excessive use of force, tensions within the Democratic Party over how far left to move — have become bracingly current."I never wanted the film to be about 1968," Sorkin says in an interview over Zoom from his house in the Hollywood Hills on Labor Day weekend. "I never wanted it to be an exercise in nostalgia or a history lesson. I wanted it to be about today. But I never imagined that today would get so much like 1968."For only the second time in a career spanning nine films as a screenwriter, Sorkin serves as director with Chicago 7, helming a sprawling ensemble cast that includes Eddie Redmayne as anti-war activist Tom Hayden, Sacha Baron Cohen as Youth International Party (Yippie) provocateur Abbie Hoffman, Succession’s Jeremy Strong as counterculture figure Jerry Rubin and Watchmen’s Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as Black Panther party co-founder Bobby Seale. There are undeniable parallels not only between the film and the present political moment but also between the performance-art activism of the actors and the men they’re playing, most vividly Cohen, who, like Hoffman, has made a career of political self-expression through comedic stunts, including crashing a far-right rally in Olympia, Washington, this summer while pretending to be a racist country singer. (Cohen, who shoots most of his satirical projects incognito, impishly calls reports of his appearance at the rally "fake news.")Eight months after Sorkin filmed the protest scenes in Chicago, Abdul-Mateen was marching in Black Lives Matter protests in West Hollywood, as was Strong in Brooklyn. "There’s power when a lot of people come together to protest out of anger, out of frustration," Abdul-Mateen says. "Everybody has a role in the revolution; this film shows that.

"Though the movie feels crafted for this political moment, it was born of another. At Sorkin’s first meeting with Spielberg, "I remember him saying, 'It would be great if we could have this out before the election,'" Sorkin says. The election Spielberg was talking about was 2008’s, when Barack Obama and Joe Biden faced John McCain and Sarah Palin.The film hit multiple roadblocks, beginning with the 2007-08 writers strike and continuing as financing faltered repeatedly, a fate illustrated by the more than 30 producers who can claim some sort of credit on Chicago 7. It took another unscheduled detour this summer after Sorkin finished it as the pandemic worsened, and the odds of original distributor Paramount mounting a successful theatrical release before the Nov. 3 election seemed increasingly slim. For some involved with the film, there is a question about the ethics of Hollywood inviting audiences to return to theaters before a COVID-19 vaccine is widely available. "

There’s a moral quandary that we, the motion picture business, have to be careful that we don’t become the tobacco industry, where we’re encouraging people to do something we know is potentially lethal," says Cohen.Before his visit to Spielberg’s Pacific Palisades home to discuss the project on a Saturday afternoon in 2006, Sorkin knew next to nothing about the Chicago 7. The federal government had charged seven defendants — Hoffman, Rubin, Hayden, David Dellinger, Rennie Davis, John Froines and Lee Weiner — with conspiracy for their participation in the protests against the Vietnam War outside the Democratic National Convention. (Originally the men were known as the Chicago 8 and included Seale, who asked to have his trial separated from that of the others and postponed so that he could be represented by his preferred lawyer, who was ill; that trial never took place.)

When Spielberg proposed a movie about the riots and the trial that followed, Sorkin, who was 7 in 1968, said, "'You know, that sounds great. Count me in.' As soon as I left his house, I called my father and said, 'Dad, do you know anything about a riot that happened in 1968 or a crazy conspiracy trial that followed?' I was just saying yes to Steven."Despite his ignorance, Sorkin was a logical choice to write the project: Having penned Broadway’s A Few Good Men and its 1992 film adaptation as well as the long-running NBC series West Wing, he’d shown a flair for dramatizing courtroom procedures and liberal politics, and he turned in his first draft of the Chicago 7 script in 2007. Originally, Spielberg planned to direct the project himself, but by the time the writers strike was over, he had moved on and a number of other potential directors circled, including Paul Greengrass, Ben Stiller, Peter Berg and Gary Ross, though none was able to get it off the ground. "There was just a feeling that, 'Look, this isn’t an Avengers film,'" Sorkin says of the studios' move away from midbudget dramas and toward action tentpoles in the 2010s. "This isn’t an easy sell at the box office. And there are big scenes, riots, crowd scenes. How can this movie be done for the budget that makes sense for what the expectation is at the box office?"As the project languished, Sorkin tried writing it as a play, ultimately spending 18 months on a fruitless effort to fashion a stage treatment. "What I didn’t like was having a script in my drawer," he says. "I was just thinking, 'Jeez, this is a good movie and it feels like it’s stillborn.'"It was the confluence of two events that ultimately revived the film with Sorkin in the director’s chair in 2018 — the 2016 election of Donald Trump and the 2017 release of Sorkin’s well-received directorial debut, Molly’s Game, which doubled its production budget at the box office. "This is before George Floyd and Breonna Taylor and police protests or confrontations," Sorkin says. "This is just when Donald Trump was musing nostalgically about the old days when they used to carry that guy [a protester] out of here on a stretcher and punch the crap out of him."With Trump’s throwback rhetoric lending the subject matter a new timeliness and Sorkin’s directing chops confirmed in Spielberg’s eyes, the movie moved forward with its screenwriter at the helm.

Cross Creek Pictures came in to finance, and Paramount bought the domestic rights. But all those years in development had left an expensive imprint on the project — a jaw-dropping $11  million had been spent on casting costs, producing fees and the optioning of Brett Morgen’s 2007 documentary about the event, Chicago 10, leaving just $24  million for the actual 36-day production.

One way Sorkin attempts to achieve a sense  of scope despite that budget is by intercutting real black-and-white news footage with his dramatized protests. He rounded out his large cast with a deep bench of experienced and award-winning actors including Oscar winner Mark Rylance as defense attorney William Kunstler, Oscar nominee Frank Langella as Judge Julius Hoffman, Joseph Gordon-Levitt as prosecutor Richard Schultzand, Oscar nominee Michael Keaton as former U.S. Attorney General Ramsey Clark — with the filmmaker and many of his actors working for scale. (Abdul-Mateen and Strong both became first-time Emmy winners Sept.  20.)Sorkin shot the protest scenes on location in Chicago and built a courtroom set in an old church sanctuary in Paterson, New Jersey, because none of the available courtroom locations in the Garden State conveyed the scope he wanted. "If we’re saying the whole world is watching, I want a packed courtroom for six months full of press and spectators," Sorkin says. "I wanted the big, cavernous feeling of the federal government and its power coming down on these people."

Julian Wasser/The LIFE Images Collection via Getty Images/Getty Images "The movie is tribute to the bravery of the protesters of 1968 [pictured] and today in Belarus, on the streets of America, in Portland," says Cohen.

Among the vestiges of Spielberg’s original plan was the casting of Cohen as Hoffman, which required the London native to affect a Boston accent and return to a subject he had studied as an undergraduate at Christ’s College in Cambridge, where he wrote a thesis paper about Jewish activists during the civil rights movement. At 19, Cohen had interviewed Bob Moses, the leader of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, which Hoffman was involved in before he founded the anti-war Yippie movement. "Honestly, I was very proud of the fact that Jews were involved in the Black civil rights movement in the '60s, and there wasn’t much written about it," Cohen says, explaining his youthful scholarship.

There’s a clear line to draw between Hoffman’s 1960s theatrics — which included throwing fistfuls of money into the gallery of the New York Stock Exchange and vowing to levitate the Pentagon — and Cohen’s contemporary TV and film pranks. Perhaps among Cohen’s most memorable and pointed gags was getting Vice President Dick Cheney to gleefully autograph a waterboard kit, which the comic did while posing as an admiring Israeli anti-terror expert for a 2018 episode of Who Is America?, his Showtime series. “What I wanted to do was to show that he was proud of torturing," Cohen says. "I could not believe how happy Cheney was to be sitting next to an uber-fan. So, yes. Ultimately in the shows and the movies that I do, I’m trying to be funny, but yeah, I’m trying to get out the anger that I have within me."

Cohen sees Hoffman’s unorthodox protest methods as pragmatic. "The Yippies were underfunded, and he was using theatricality to gain attention for his aims," Cohen says. "He wanted to stop the war. And how do you do that? You use stunts and absurdist humor to try to effect change." The actor estimates that, after researching Hoffman, he pitched Sorkin hundreds of lines the activist had really delivered. "As an annoying person with a lot of chutzpah, I was emailing Aaron every other night until morning, 'What about this line? What about this line?'" Cohen says. The writer-director, known for his exacting prose, politely tolerated the suggestions while largely sticking to his own script.

As Rubin, Strong is playing Hoffman’s conscientious jester sidekick, a role wildly different from the tragic, wealthy approval seeker he portrays on Succession. Strong added some of his own dramatic flourishes, including painting words on his chest for one courtroom scene and bringing a remote-controlled fart machine to disrupt Langella’s imperious judge. "I wanted to channel as much as possible that spirit of the merry prankster and of joyous dissent," Strong says. Hoffman and Rubin’s real-life personae were so large that Sorkin at times asked his actors to dial down their faithful portrayals, requesting, after one particularly jubilant take, "less cowbell."

Sorkin’s script draws a sharp contrast between Hoffman and Rubin’s campy methods and Hayden’s more reserved approach to the anti-war movement, with the tensions between Hoffman and Hayden supplying the film’s key relationship in a kind of begrudging brotherhood of the peace movement. To learn more about Hayden, Redmayne studied remarks that Jane Fonda, who was married to the activist and politician from 1973 to 1990, made upon his death in 2016. In his own life, Redmayne is cautious when it comes to discussing the role that he, as an actor at the center of a huge studio franchise (Warner Bros.’ Fantastic Beasts) might have in political life. "I find it endlessly challenging," Redmayne says of navigating his public activism. "There’s the elitist thing. It’s speaking up on climate change but being conscious that you’re traveling a lot. One has to be aware of one’s own hypocrisies, because they can be detrimental to something you believe in. So sometimes I find that I have to live my life and speak to my advocacy in a way in that it’s around friends, family and people I know rather than making something public."

Abdul-Mateen has begun his acting career largely associated with fantastical roles, like Dr. Manhattan on HBO’s Watchmen, Black Manta in Aquaman and Candyman in the upcoming Jordan Peele-produced remake of the slasher film. Playing Seale represented a chance to do more grounded work and to depict a man who had loomed large during Abdul-Mateen’s childhood in Oakland, where Seale co-founded the Black Panthers in 1966 and later ran for mayor. Seale��s inclusion in the original Chicago riots indictment was controversial and strange — prosecutors accused him of conspiring with men he’d never met after visiting Chicago that week for only a few hours to deliver a speech. For the prosecution, Seale functioned largely as a prop to tap into the fears of white jurors and white Americans watching the news coverage, and during the trial he had no attorney. "I wanted to key in on, how did Bobby Seale survive this trial?" Abdul-Mateen says. "How did he survive the gross mistreatment by the United States government, and how did he go through that with his head high and not be broken? It was an exercise in finding my pride, finding my dignity."

In one scene, Seale is brought into the courtroom bound and gagged, and throughout the trial he is kept separate from the white defendants. "Although it was meant to be a humiliating act, I walked out with my chest high, with my head high. Bound and gagged and everything else. It would be very dangerous for a Black man in that time, even sometimes today, to show the proof of the wear and tear that oppression can take on a person, because that can be seen as a sign of weakness, and a sign of weakness is an open door that it’s working." For the moments of lightness that Cohen and Strong bring to the movie, Abdul-Mateen supplies ballast. "It’s important for the right reasons and at the right time to make art that makes people uncomfortable," he says.

Niko Tavernise/NETFLIX. On the set, from left, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, Mark Rylance, Ben Shenkman, Aaron Sorkin and Eddie Redmayne

Spielberg has remained involved in the film "in an emeritus role," Sorkin says, "from giving me good script notes to casting to notes on early cuts of the film." He also showed up to the New Jersey courtroom set. "When you have to direct a scene in front of Steven Spielberg, you’re not at your most relaxed necessarily," Sorkin says. Spielberg did not, however, take an executive producing credit on the film and declined to be interviewed about it.

The decision to switch to a streaming release came after an early summer marketing strategy call between Sorkin, Paramount chief Jim Gianopulos, other Paramount execs and some of the film’s producers. "At the end of the call, Jim said, 'Listen, we don’t know what the theater business is going to look like in the fall. We have troubling data telling us that the first people back in movie theaters are going to be the people who think that the coronavirus is a hoax,'" Sorkin says. This was clearly not the intended audience for a movie whose heroes are liberal activists. "I said, 'I don’t think the Idaho militia are going to be the first people coming to this movie,'" Sorkin says.

The group agreed to explore alternatives and gave Netflix, Amazon, Apple and Hulu 24 hours to watch the film. After a bidding war, Chicago 7 landed at Netflix in a $56  million deal against its $35  million production budget, with a robust marketing campaign and promise of a theatrical release. "We knew we didn’t have the option of 'Let’s wait a year,'" Sorkin says. "This is what we’re thinking about and what we’re talking about right now, and it just would have been a real shame to not release it now."

After Chicago 7 opens in limited release, Netflix will add more theaters in the U.S. and abroad throughout October, expanding upon the film’s premiere on the service, a strategy akin to what it provided Oscar best picture nominees The Irishman and Roma, albeit in a wildly different theatrical environment.

As Hollywood opens up to more production, Sorkin, and many of the Chicago 7 actors, have begun returning to work. Abdul-Mateen has been in Berlin for The Matrix 4 and Redmayne in London for Fantastic Beasts 3, while Sorkin is shooting a West Wing reunion special at the Orpheum Theatre in downtown L.A. that will premiere on HBO Max in October as a fundraiser for When We All Vote and include video appearances by Michelle Obama, Bill Clinton and Lin-Manuel Miranda

For the real-life Chicago 7, the denouement consisted of ultimately being acquitted of conspiracy. Judge Hoffman sentenced Seale to four years in prison for contempt of court, one of the longest sentences ever handed down for that offense in the U.S., but those charges were overturned on appeal. Just three of the original eight defendants — Seale, Froines and Weiner — are still alive, but the legacy of the case lives on in contemporary protest movements. "The movie is tribute to the bravery of the protesters of 1968 and the protesters of today in Belarus, on the streets of America, in Portland," Cohen says. "These people now are risking their lives, and they’ll continue risking them."

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/features/the-trial-of-the-chicago-7-aaron-sorkin-and-stars-on-films-timeliness-to-election-and-why-everybody-has-a-role-in-the-revolution

41 notes · View notes

imjustthemechanic · 3 years

Photo

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter

Of course Agent Russel isn’t who she said she was... but who is she really? And what is the significance of the letter she left in Peggy’s purse?

It wasn’t until she was packing up her things to head home at the end of the day that Peggy noticed the envelope.

Peggy was used to finding envelopes on her desk – it had taken her a while to find a proper apartment in Los Angeles, so she’d used the SSR office as her address and still got mail there. Her colleagues also left things for her. But this wasn’t on her desk or even in her desk, it was in her purse, which had been sitting next to her desk all day, except for when it had been sitting next to Daniel’s desk in his office while she spoke with Agent Russel. Peggy didn’t recall anyone coming near it, but then, she hadn’t been paying that much attention. What she was sure of was that there had been no envelope in it when she’d left home that morning.

She pulled it out. There was nothing written on it and the flap was not sealed. Inside was a single sheet of typing paper. Peggy unfolded it, and found two typewritten lines of numbers:

74 47 35 95 25 03

Below them was a quickly scrawled drawing of a five-pointed star with two circles around it.

Peggy’s breath caught. Her first instinct upon just seeing the numbers was, of course, that it represented some kind of code or cipher, but noticing the star… perhaps she was biased, but she was fairly sure that represented Captain America’s shield. And if it did, maybe the numbers were far simpler than a code. Maybe somebody knew where the Valkyrie had crashed. Ninety-five degrees was a long way to the west, and seventy-four was further north than Howard had ever looked.

Who had left her this? Her initial idea was that it must have been Russel, but why would Russel do that and where would she have gotten such information? If she had it, wouldn’t she give it to Daniel or to Chief Thompson in New York, or even to the joint chiefs or the president, rather than to Peggy Carter? Everybody thought of her in association with Captain America, yes, but she’d been a comparatively minor figure in his career. Maybe it was some kind of trap or a distraction? But why do that? It seemed entirely incompatible with Russel’s goal. But if not her, who?

She folded the page up again. She was getting ahead of herself, wasn’t she? She didn’t yet know what those numbers meant. Possibly she was jumping to conclusions. She needed a map or a globe. Peggy did not own one personally. There was a large map of North America on one wall of the SSR office, but she didn’t want anyone seeing her poring over that and asking why. Perhaps a public library? But what if she were followed?

Remaining calm, Peggy put the page back into the envelope and the envelope into her purse. She gave Daniel a kiss and wished him good night, and said goodbye to Rose on the way out, as if she were simply going home at the end of a tiring day and nothing was wrong in the world.

She did not go home, however. She went to Howard Stark’s house.

Howard himself wasn’t home, but Edwin Jarvis answered the door and looked delighted to see Peggy, as he always was. The man never seemed to learn.

“Agent Carter,” he said with a smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m afraid it’s a business call,” said Peggy. “I need to borrow a book.”

“Of course, come right in,” Jarvis said, standing aside. “I’ll make tea. Can I interest you in a slice of apple torte? Anna has the dog outside, so there’s no need to fear an immediate assault upon entering the kitchen.”

Peggy smiled – the Jarvises had recently acquired a Bernese Mountain Dog puppy, which Anna had named Zoltan. It was already twice the size it had been when they brought it home and showed no signs of slowing down, while having no idea that it was already much too big to fit in a human lap. Anna adored the monster, and Edwin pretended to be annoyed with the amount of hair it shed, but could not bring himself to truly dislike an animal that made his wife so happy.

“Thank you, Mr. Jarvis, apple torte sounds lovely.”

In the library she quickly found what she was looking for – an enormous leather-bound Atlas of the World, the sort of book Howard bought because he was supposed to have one and then never looked at because he had the entire geography of the earth memorized already. Mr. Jarvis brought her pie and tea while she flipped pages, until she found one showing the islands of Northern Canada.

She took the paper out again and spread it out. Seventy-four and a half degrees north was… just about there, and ninety-five degrees west was… just off the coast of Cornwallis Island, a place choked by sea ice for nearly the entire year. As she’d suspected, it was very far north of where they’d thought the Valkyrie might have gone down based on its last known trajectory. Perhaps they’d underestimated the speed of the craft?

Could it really be? Could somebody have simply handed her the location of Steve Rogers’ body?

The only way to find out would be to look… but looking would be a big undertaking, with people and ships and winter gear. Peggy did not yet have nearly enough information to start something like that. Before she could even begin she had to find out who had given her these coordinates, where that person had gotten them from, and how many other people might know about them. For all she knew, this was some kind of trap.

“Agent Carter?” asked Mr. Jarvis, coming to collect her empty teacup. “Have you found what you needed?”

“I believe I’ve made a start,” Peggy replied. “May I use the telephone?”

“Of course,” he said.

She pulled out the card Agent Russel had given her, and asked the operator for the number. The phone rang… and then rang again… and rang again. Peggy waited with increasing impatience until it had rung twelve times, and then hung up. Maybe Russel was still busy, or perhaps she’d gone out for dinner or something. There were plenty of explanations that didn’t involve her deliberately avoiding Peggy, and Peggy would not improve the situation by becoming paranoid.

She put the envelope back in her purse, thanked Mr. Jarvis, and headed home again.

When she arrived, she rang Russel’s number again but still got no answer. This was annoying for several reasons, not the least of which was that Russel would be the easiest suspect to eliminate. Peggy could just ask Russel about it, while her colleagues were a different matter. If she asked the wrong person and they weren’t the culprit, they might spread the news around and then there would be a big fuss over what might turn out to be nothing. Peggy didn’t want that.

It did occur to her that this might just be a ploy to distract her from looking for Dottie so that somebody else could take the credit. That would have been infuriating if Peggy hadn’t long ago let go of caring who got credit for saving the world just so long as it ended up saved.

Before she turned in that evening, Peggy did try one last time to telephone Russel and still got no response. She told herself not to get cranky about it. She’d only met this woman yesterday, and an FBI agent was doubtless busy… especially a woman, who would have to be twice as good as the men to get half the respect. Peggy herself could be almost impossible to contact sometimes. Howard, Mr. Jarvis, Angie, and even Daniel had all complained of it. When it was time to panic, she told herself as she shut off the lights, she would know.

As it turned out, the time for panic was around four o’clock the following morning, when Peggy was awakened from a sound sleep by her phone ringing. She turned the light back on and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” she asked.

“Peggy?” it was Daniel. “Did I wake you up?”

“I should say you did – do you know what time it is?” she asked, having to turn her alarm clock in order to find out for herself. Ten past four. If Daniel were calling her now, it was something serious. “What’s going on?”

“They found Agent Russel,” he said.

Peggy’s heart went into her throat. “She’s dead?” That had not been an expected outcome.

“No…” Daniel said. “The woman who came to see you yesterday wasn’t Agent Russel. Agent Nedrick Russel has been found tied up in the trunk of a car at the airport.”

Having only just leaped, Peggy’s heart now sank, all the way down to the floor and possibly through it into the apartment below. “Bloody hell,” she said.

“Can you meet us at the police station?” asked Daniel.

“Absolutely.” Peggy threw aside the covers and stood up. “Give me a moment to get ready.”

She hung up without saying goodbye, because now was not a time for pleasantries. In the washroom to give her hair a quick comb and put on makeup as best she could, Peggy caught her own eye in the mirror and scowled.

“Bloody bugger,” she declared. “Bloody, bloody bugger.”

She might not know what was going on with the mysterious envelope, but she now knew in her gut exactly what had happened yesterday and it was not at all nice. Peggy had always been as lenient as she could with Dottie Underwood, though that wasn’t very, because she knew Dottie had been brought up by cruel people who’d twisted her into a monster. The same was doubtless true of this woman calling herself Nadine Russel… but Peggy was going to have a much more difficult time trying to be kind.

When Peggy arrived at the station near the airport, dressed and groomed but definitely not looking her best, a police officer escorted her into a room where three men from the SSR, including Daniel, and several more police were standing around watching a man devour a ham sandwich. He was in his early fifties, with graying dark hair and a chisel-straight nose, wearing a white shirt with sweat stains under the arms, his tie and his blue plaid blazer draped over the back of his chair. His audience didn’t seem to interest him at all. He was entirely focused on his food.

“Agent Russel?” asked Peggy.

The man glanced up at her, then quickly swallowed his mouthful and washed it down with half a glass of water. He’d clearly been imprisoned in the car trunk for some time, and it had left him both hungry and dehydrated. “You must be Agent Carter,” he said. “This isn’t how I pictured us meeting.”

“Nor I,” said Peggy. She looked at the police. “You questioned him?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said the nearest man. “He says he was having a drink at the Coconut Club when a pretty blonde came up and started flirting with him, and the next thing he remembers was coming to locked in the trunk of his car. His wallet and his briefcase are both missing.”

Peggy had heard of the Coconut Club, though she’d never been there. It was a fairly swanky pub not too far away from the airport. “Do we have a description of the suspect?”

“We’ve got a sketch artist on his way,” the policeman promised.

“She was about so tall,” said Russel with his mouth full, holding his hand at the height of his shoulders to suggest a woman significantly shorter than he. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, great skin, nails like a tiger. Black dress with a little bolero, and a choker necklace with a great big rock on it.” He pointed to his adam’s apple to suggest where that had sat.

“Did she give her name?” Peggy asked.

“She said it was Katherine. Told me to call her Kay,” Russel said. “You’re not going to tell Alice, are you?”

Peggy rolled her eyes, and Daniel looked like he badly wanted to. “Agent Russel,” he said, “the SSR wants to know who this woman is and why she’s interested in finding Olga Barynova. We don’t care where your wife thinks you were last night.”

Russel had been about to bite into his sandwich again. Now he hesitated. “You mean Underwood? She’s got a real name now?”

“Was that not in the information your assailant took from you?” asked Peggy.

“No…” said Russel. “No, we’ve got a list of her aliases but none of them were Russian.”

Peggy had already been fairly sure this mysterious Miss Kay must be from the same organization as Dottie herself… now she suspected she knew it for certain. Had she assumed that the SSR already knew Dottie’s real name? Or had she only called her that by mistake? Either way, she’d covered for herself very quickly.

Had Kay gotten the coordinates from Russel? Peggy would have to find a more private moment to ask him. In the meantime, she took out the business card her visitor had given her yesterday, and showed him the number.

“Does this telephone number mean anything to you, Agent Russel?” she asked.

His mouth was once again full. He shook his head.

“Then that’s where I’d like to start,” said Peggy. Maybe Kay hadn’t thought they would find the real Russel so soon, and was expecting Peggy to try to contact her. Or maybe it had only been a ruse, to keep Peggy from being suspicious. She offered the card to one of the policemen. “Would somebody mind tracing this for me, please?”

The man looked at Daniel, who nodded. “Do it,” he said.

“And I’ll want to speak to the sketch artist, myself,” Peggy added. At the moment it was technically only a suspicion that ‘Nadine’ and ‘Kay’ were the same person, but it would be nice to have it confirmed. Then she could decide what she would try to do next.

#fanfic #captain america #agent carter #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggy #fix it fic

8 notes · View notes