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eccentricgrace · 10 months ago

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We Got Peter! (I Wish He Were My Kid) || IronDad

summary: five times the avengers meet peter parker, and the one time they realize who’s training him

tags: fluff, domestic, pov avengers, tony stark is peter parker's parental figure, peter can wield mjolnir, tired parent clint barton, hulk loves jokes <3

wc: 6,187

cross-posted on ao3 under the same name!

1. clint barton

Clint Barton is the first one to meet him.

His hands were blistered beyond belief from a foolhardy training session with the new girl, and with broken blisters brought blood. He just needed to get some bandaids, and one would think that an item as such would be easy to find in a compound designed top to bottom to cater to a superhero's every whim, but no.

He's in the only place someone can apparently find bandaids, when suddenly this curly brown-haired kid stumbled in looking the age of his eldest son. The kid wore pyjamas, a faded NASA tee and flannel pants, and he was walking while still hooked up to an IV, of which he held the stand beside him.

He froze when Clint was very obviously staring him down, and had the audacity to look caught.

Clint's getting real tired of picking up random kiddos that get themselves into trouble, so he cocked his head at the teen. "Who are you?"

"Peter," Peter answered with wide eyes. He had a healing shiner on his cheek, bruised a light yellow.

"What are you in here for, Peter?"

Peter opened his mouth, and then closed it. He awkwardly lifted the hem of his shirt up to reveal his entire torso heavily bandaged. Then he grimaced and dropped his shirt back down. "I wanted to go to the bathroom. Didn't want to call anyone for help."

Clint pulled a face. He looked around the medical wing for anyone else in sight, but the place was dim. He looked back at Peter. "Is someone supposed to be watching you?"

Peter shook his head. "I'm supposed to just rest. Everyone else is asleep."

Clint grunted. He looked back down at his hands and quickly peeled the bandaids out of their packaging, wrapping them expertly around his fingertips. "Well, get back in your bed, then."

Peter complied easily, settling back into a rumpled bed just across from the cabinets of medical supplies. He pulled the comforters back up, and Clint watched as his nose twitched and his teeth clenched from the movement.

Clint internally sighed. He closed the cabinet. "So, what's a kid doing with an injury like that? You someone's responsibility around here? Is it Steve?"

Peter shook his head tiredly and tilted his head back on the pillow. "No, not Steve. And the injury isn't... that bad, it's just— It stings, a little."

Clint walked over to the IV and narrowed his eyes at it. "This is strong stuff. Looks like it's running a little low, though."

"Yeah," Peter frowned. "It was dripping really fast, and it's almost been twenty four hours. The doctor lady, um, Dr. Cho said it should be switched out then."

"And where is she?"

"Got called away on a mission," Peter explained. "Something went wrong with some agents in Helsinki, they needed emergency medical attention."

Clint resigned. Guess he was taking care of this one, too. He walked over to the medical supplies and took a new bag of IV fluid before returning to Peter. "I'm gonna switch it out for you, hopefully that'll fix it up, okay?"

Peter nodded.

"So," Clint tore the opening. "How'd you get the stab wound?"

"How did you—"

Clint leveled him with a look. "You think I made it this far without recognizing a stab wound, kid?"

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. "Wrong place, wrong time."

Clint didn't believe that for a second. He narrowed his eyes at Peter and then went back to the IV, closing the clamp below the drip chamber. "And who's supposed to be watching you? The one who's asleep?"

"Mr. Stark," Peter answered quietly. "But he was worried sick ever since I got here, and I finally got him to leave and go to sleep, so I couldn't just call him back down here."

Clint studied Peter carefully. He stuck the IV spike into the port and then hung the bag back onto the stand. "Yeah, that checks out. Tony never can take care of himself."

Peter hummed noncommittally. "Thanks for drugging me."

Clint snorted. "Yeah, no problem."

He sat down beside the teen's bed. Peter tilted his head at him questioningly.

"I'll stick around til those meds kick in," Clint shrugged off. He hesitated. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

Clint smiled knowingly and nodded. "My son— The oldest one, he's fifteen. I thought you two looked around the same age."

"What's his name?" Peter asked politely, looking quietly grateful for the company. "Your son."

"Cooper," Clint answered gruffly. "Lila's my daughter, she's the middle kid. Youngest is Nathaniel, Nathan for short."

He nodded firmly. "They're good kids. They look out for each other, I'm grateful for them."

Peter smiled softly. "Tell me about them. If you want."

Clint scratched at his chin and leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up. "Why don't you tell me about yourself first? You're kind of the anomaly in this scenario, kid."

"Heh," Peter grinned. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Uh... What do you want to know?"

Clint had kids. He knew the best things to talk about with them, because they were his.

Nathan was the easiest, he was still a little itty bitty thing that barely reached his waist in height, and his favourite topics were the talking trains on his television shows and bargaining for more bologna on his sandwich at lunch.

Lila was second easiest, because she loved archery—she's gonna grow up to be a real class act like him, it's in the genes— so he'd bring her to the range and they'd talk about techniques.

Cooper was trickier, getting into that independent mindset and all, and it was hard to get a sentence or two out of him if he wanted to figure something out by himself. Clint always got him to spill though, props of working as a spy with background designed to persuade information.

But again: those were his kids. Clint Barton wasn't exactly the easiest guy to talk to, either. He decided to settle for a middle ground if he wanted conversation.

"What's your favourite subject in school?"

"Chemistry." Peter shrugged. "It's really easy, though."

"Well, there are AP classes for chemistry, aren't there?" Clint tilted his head. "You ever tried out for those? Heard they're great for colleges. Where you trying to go, New York University? Yale? What are the other big ones..."

"Uh, MIT." Peter nodded his head. "I'm trying to get into MIT. And I'm already taking the AP classes."

Clint blinked. "Oh. Well, alright then. You're set."

Peter smiled. "Guess so."

"So..." Clint drummed his thumb tiredly against his knee. "Tony, huh? Didn't know he had a... you."

"I'm interning," Peter rattled off quickly. A practiced excuse. He maintained direct eye contact, his chin jutted out with pride from his own lie. It did not go unnoticed to Clint.

"Oh, interning for Stark, eh?" Clint said. "I didn't know he had an internship program. Even more shocked a kid would sign up for said program. Sounds really boring."

"It can be sometimes," Peter shrugged. He glanced down at his own wound and broke into a sheepish grin. "You wouldn't want it to get too exciting though, otherwise you end up here. You know what I mean?"

"Tony's got a problem with employee health insurance?" Clint replied dryly, just trying to draw more information out of this teenager.

He still couldn't crack whether or not the kid was interning as an Avenger or if he was interning for Stark Industries and just got caught up in something he shouldn't have been around. ('Wrong place, wrong time' is a clever excuse, but not telling enough.)

"Oh, no!" Peter furrowed his eyebrows and backtracked. "No. That's not what I meant. I meant more like, exciting like when Avengers stuff is happening and like, sometimes that makes me a target for bad guys— working here, I mean. Not like, as an actually Avenger. Definitely not that, ha. I'm just a kid."

He sniffed in finality as he ended his sentence.

Clint studied him nonchalantly. "Sure."

"I feel really chatty all of the sudden."

"It's the drugs."

"That actually makes a lot of sense."

"Yeah, you get chatty, and then you totally conk out."

"Oh."

Clint tilted his head, studying the kid with narrowed eyes. He was all fidgety, restless as he looked down at his dripping IV and then the folds of his bedsheets and then everywhere else. Clint cleared his throat. "I really don't think Tony'd mind being woke up, you know. If it's his responsibility to babysit."

He knew if his kids were in hospice, you wouldn't be able to pull him out of the room, and he wouldn't give a damn how tired he was. That's just parenting.

"It's not babysitting," Peter argued, his nose scrunching up. "I'm entirely capable, like, practically an adult. Besides, Mr. Stark hardly sleeps, so like, waking him up isn't exactly on my weekend itinerary."

Clint grunted. "Alright, well, try not to keep yapping. Try and sleep, will you?"

"Yessir," Peter chirped.

Clint leaned his head back and closed his eyes, listening to the hum of lights and the aircon. Silence for a few seconds, and then—

"...Are you just gonna sit there? You can— You can go, if you want. I can get to sleep on my own, dude."

Clint exhaled stiffly through his nose. Unfortunately, his conscience won't allow him to leave til he knew this teenager was sound asleep. He couldn't just tell him that, though.

"I'm making sure you actually sleep and don't crawl your scrawny dumbass out of bed," Clint said simply, keeping his eyes closed.

"Can't wait to tell Ned that Hawkeye kept me hostage in the med bay," Peter joked, his eyes starting to droop and his tone beginning to lull. (Bingo. One step closer to knock-out town.)

"Yeah, yeah," Clint crossed his arms and went back to being quiet.

A few minutes later, he tilted his head up to peek— Peter was totally out cold, his mouth wide open while drool ran down his chin. Clint snorted softly and stood up to leave.

He could have sworn on the way there he heard Tony down another corridor, bickering with F.R.I.D.A.Y. about getting out of bed to check on "the kid."

Clint's mouth pulled up at the corner and he disappeared into the elevator.

2. thor

Thor was wandering from the kitchen when he saw the smaller Midgardian standing on the lawn outside, his arm stretched out with a strange device on his wrist.

He lazily swerved his axe back and forth and watched the child with interest, and finally decided to go out and investigate himself.

He swallowed the mouthful he had of bread. "I've never seen you before."

The child in question practically jumped out of his skin. He whipped around, his eyes wide, his jaw dropped— the device on his wrist dropped and shot a strand of string out uselessly to the field.

Thor raised an eyebrow.

"Oh," the child gasped. "Oh my god. Oh my god. Holy— It's— You're just— You're on Earth!"

"Yes, I'm visiting," Thor smiled wryly. "Did they begin to hire new Avengers while I was gone? Little ones, specifically?"

"Sorta," he blurted, looking upwards with awe. Then he quickly shook his head. "Not because you were gone! Just— I'm in training. No, I'm not. I'm not an Avenger. I'm just— I make the— Wow, you have — Really big muscles—"

Thor nodded sagely. "What's your name again?"

"Peter," the human said quickly, face going red. "Peter Parker."

Peter's eyes drift down to the axe hanging limp from Thor's hands, and then they widened all over again. He smiled shyly. "Can— Can I try it?"

Thor chuckled with amusement, holding the axe out. He flexed it out a few times. "Ah, this beauty. You can sure try, but it requires a very powerful heart, and you are ... very small. Like a splinter of the Yggdrasill. Itty-bitty."

He shoved the axe down in the soil with ease and continued talking as Peter put his hands firmly around the handle. "You see, it was forged by the power of a star—"

Peter used all his strength to yank the axe off, but not even a portion of it was needed. The thing flew upwards, flinging grass and bits of dirt everywhere. It pulled itself over Peter's shoulder from the force of his strength and he fell backwards into the lawn.

Thor stopped, words simply evaporating from his mouth.

"Oh my god," Peter repeated again. He slowly sat up, pulling the axe back over he shoulder with a lot more ease and simply holding it out in front of him with his... puny, twig arms.

Thor closed his mouth. Opened it again. Closed it again. This child— no. This man was now worth of his respect. He smiled nervously, shifting around on his feet.

"Uh. Oh," Thor stumbled. He clicked his tongue. "Um... Huh."

"This is so cool," Peter huffed, grin breaking out on his face. He turned the axe over in his hands. Then he held it back out to Thor. "That means I'm worthy, right?"

Thor made a cringing noise— a so-so motion with his hand. He scratched the back of his neck. "What's your father's name, Peter Parker?"

Peter made a face of discomfort.

"Your guardian," Thor corrected easily.

"May Parker?"

"Son of May Parker, I must admit, I underestimated you," Thor sighed. "...At least Stark can't wield it."

Thor stood there for a moment, looking down at Stormbreaker with a thoughtful frown on his face. He rolled his eyes and looked back to Peter. "Do you know where Banner is?"

Peter shrugged, looking caught between bewilderment and shock.

Thor nodded simply. "Well. It was an experience to meet you, Peter Parker."

He left without a second thought, leaving nothing behind him except a teenager stuck in an existential crisis.

(As you do.)

3. natasha romanov

Natasha met Peter for the first time in the Gym, the second floor of the Avengers Compound, West Wing.

"You up for some combat training?" Tony had asked her, looking up lamely from his mug of steaming black coffee. He had bags under his eyes, dark circles heavily visible.

"Why?" Natasha mused. "You feeling rusty, Tony?"

"Har har. No, not for me, for some new blood. Avengers recruit. He spent the other night in the med bay, I'm not exactly anxious to have that happen again," Tony sighed. "He's got some basics down, and he's strong, but figured he could do with some spider-hero tips."

That was all she was told. (What she inferred was her own business.)

She sat on the mat of the gym, waiting patiently for the new recruit to come in. She heard the gently swishing of the glass doors, and footsteps that stalled.

Natasha turned to meet him. She's greeted with the sight of a teenager, complete with a backpack, a shy smile, and a nervous wave. He wore sweats, a t-shirt, and faded out shoes that looked a step away from a shoebox coffin.

"Black Widow?" He asked. He shuffled on his feet. "Or should— Do I say Natasha? Ms— Ms. Romanoff?"

Needless to say, she was wary. She had her own morals on whether children should be able to fight, but she tried to keep in mind the circumstances. Whoever this kid was, he'd already spent time receiving medical attention from the other end of a fight, and if Tony was looking that exhausted over him then he must be one stubborn mule.

He'd benefit more from training than a scold to stay away from danger. Hero type, just like Steve. She'll give it a shot.

"Natasha's fine," she said simply. She stood up and crossed her arms. "Are you gonna tell me your name?"

"Peter Parker," he said, setting his backpack to the side. He kicked his shoes off and stepped onto the mat, holding his hand out for Natasha to shake.

Rookie mistake.

Natasha shook his hand, smiling pleasantly. She gave the handshake a second and a half before attempting her first move.

It was supposed to go like this: Natasha yanks him forward, shoves him to the ground, and pins him with one of his arms held backward. Easy. Something she was taught when she was six.

Instead, in the millisecond before she was about to move, Peter yanked his hand back. She saw a fleeting blur of Peter jumping over her.

She swung around, raising an eyebrow and her mouth opened in surprise. She pursed her lips, impressed. "Alright, then. You're full of surprises, aren't you, Peter?"

"I didn't realize we started," Peter said, exhaling through his mouth. He squared his hips and held up his fists with a focused dip in his brow.

"Gimme your best shot," Natasha grinned.

Natasha kept a close eye on him, watching as he stepped side to side, not making a move. Interesting.

She took a step forward, he took a step back.

She took a step backward, he—

He again jumped over her, dipped down, and swung his foot under Nat's legs. She fell on her back, looking up at the white vaulted ceiling.

"Oh, crap," Peter said quickly. He lowered his fists. "Are you okay? That was a little ha—"

She rolled to the side, grabbing Peter's knee and swinging upwards so their positions were switched. She caught her breath, now standing on both feet, and watched with curiosity as the kid started doing something... odd.

He started talking, seriously chattering up a storm, scrambling himself up in an unpracticed manner and matching her move for move. He wasn't refined in the slightest, and he pulled his punches hard. Natasha had no idea how much strength he wasn't even using.

His fighting was all slapstick, clumsy— he fought purely through instinct and with what Tony had properly summarized to her as "the basics." Simple punches. Kicks. He also seemed to rely heavily on his agility and flexibility, which Nat could respect.

He grunted after being shoved into the ground and tilted his head to the floor tiredly, his chest heaving with breath. "Oh man. I gotta say, I'm real glad I wasn't fighting against you back in Germany."

Natasha froze. She made a face and narrowed her eyes. "You're Spider-Man, aren't you?"

Peter furrowed his brows up at her and wrinkled his nose. "Um, yeah? I thought Mr. Stark told you that."

She pulled back fully, clearly signaling the training was over. She caught her breath again and analyzed his expression, the details in his face— youthful, stubborn confusion. She could see closer now some things she hadn't thought about before.

This teenager had been fighting toe-to-toe with Captain America that day, a little over two years ago.

"Tony wanted me to train you because you're going up against people you match your strength," she said bluntly, understanding now from all angles. "Because you don't know how to fight."

She thought back to the dark circles under Tony's eyes. The exasperation twinged with desperation in his voice when he asked.

Peter nodded slightly, looking sheepish. He was just a kid. He didn't ask for these powers, and yet, he was chomping at the bit to learn, to help.

Natasha held her hand out to help him up. "Alright, kid."

He looked down at her hand warily. "You're not gonna try to judo throw me again, are you?"

She smirked. "Not this time. I'm gonna teach you the basics on how to use that strength of yours. When I'm done with you, you'll be able to knock a guy unconscious with your pinky finger."

He huffed with amusement and took her hand, allowing himself to be helped up. "Awesome."

So that's how Natasha got another nephew.

4. bruce banner

It's four in the morning on a Saturday when Bruce Banner met him.

He had just woken up from a nightmare and felt... green around the gills. Deep breaths were calming, but not enough in the darkness of his bedroom, sweat dripping down his forehead as he carded his hands messily back and forth through his hair. After about five minutes where the underside of his skin still burned and pulled where it wanted to transform, he finally swung himself off the bed.

He took a cold shower, talking himself down the entire time the freezing droplets pelted his back.

"This bathroom is too small for you, Big Guy," Bruce seethed his teeth, vigorously rubbing shampoo into his scalp. "I'm not hulking out. We're not doing this tonight."

His heart lunged uncomfortably and Bruce scrubbed soap on the green-turning skin on his wrists. "Stop that, I'm not kidding around with you. Just forget the nightmare and go to bed."

His stomach turned, his skin stretching out as Hulk morphed the half of his face with an angry desperation. Hulk's voice came out of his throat, gruff and monstrous. "NO."

"This isn't a discussion," Bruce hissed back. He yanked the shower off, the handle breaking in his hands. He froze, inhaled deeply, and very calmly set the handle down. His eyes twitched.

"We're going to go get a nice, calming, cup of green tea," Bruce replied. "Then, we're going back to bed."

His stomach turned again. "JASMINE."

"Okay, fine," Bruce threw his hands up and stepped out of the shower, wiping the water off with his towel. "Jasmine. Fine. Whatever makes you happy."

Five minutes later, and he's stepping out of the elevator in a new set of pajamas, his hair wet and dripping down the back of his neck. He walked into the kitchen and clicked the electric kettle on. He picked up a mug from the cabinet, put the tea bag in, and waited with a tight frown on his face.

His eyes caught a light from the other room, coming from the ceiling. He looked up, and then subsequently froze.

A gangly teenager, sitting quietly on the living room ceiling, entirely razor-focused on a laptop that he held tightly on his lap.

Bruce blinked.

He blinked again.

The kid didn't disappear.

Bruce isn't sure what to do. The teenager didn't even seem to notice the predicament he was in, a stranger in a high-security compound who was also, you know, breaking the laws of gravity. Surely he had to belong to somebody. Someone had to have been mentoring him, maybe Steve or Nat.

(He hoped for his sake that it was not Natasha's mentee, because then he'd probably get his ass kicked for staring.)

Bruce scratched his head and turned the kettle off before it could scream, then poured the steaming water into his mug. He sat down and watched the kid curiously as he sipped his tea.

There was a lot to process. Luckily, he's a scientist, so he's had some practice at processing.

Bruce guessed that the teenager had conscious control over what he stuck to, begging by how tightly he gripped the laptop in his hands and how he fidgeted once, resettling himself where he sat, and still didn't fall.

What Bruce thought was even more interesting was how the teenager's face was of normal colour. Not a hint of purple, not even red. He wasn't breathing in a laboured way, either. Bruce had been watching him for two minutes now and he looked entirely normal, when any normal person would start showing signs of blood pooling. With this kind of biological capability, Bruce's best guess is that this ability is tied directly to his genes.

The kid narrowed his eyes. "X squared minus a hundred... divided by... But if I use the limit theorem then— Oh, my bad. I get it."

The teenager huffed with slight amusement and then went back into a silent concentration, his eyebrows furrowing as he read along the screen.

Differential calculus. Either a college student or an advanced high schooler.

Ten minutes passed, and Bruce had finished his scalding hot tea with little issue, much to Hulk's dismay. He kept his eyes on the teenager, waiting to gain more interesting details about the abilities he had.

Then his stomach turned again. Bruce immediately glared.

"Don't you do it," Bruce whispered.

His blood burned and his heart pounded angrily in his chest.

Hulk growled under his breath.

"Stop it," Bruce grumbled back. "Cut it out."

His fists clenched with a crack of his knuckles. "I'm DONE with watching," Hulk said defiantly.

"I don't give a shit! Hulk—"

"NO," Hulk roared, and his whole arm expanded and burned radioactive green. He reached out and shattered the mug, droplets of tea splattering across the kitchen. "DUMB SCIENCE STUFF."

And the illusion of being hidden disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Bruce quickly looked back at the ceiling and found the teenager to be gone, as if he had never even been there.

Bruce glared at the empty space. "I hate when you do this! You scare away perfectly nice people, and you're never compliant with what I want to do—"

His chest expanded with anger. Hulk's eyes burned with rage, and he pounded a fist down on the counter. "YOU ARE DUMB. NOT COMPLIANT. BANNER STINKS, HULK STRONG."

He could feel himself slipping away, and his skin shifted mossy green. Hulk roared again and swung his arm powerfully across the kitchen counter, the wood splintering in chunks while cabinet doors flung across the room.

Hulk turned to throw a punch at the counters behind him but his whole arm was halted by an arm unmistakably by... something. Hulk grunted and looked over his bulky fist, and made eye contact with the scrawny teenager from before.

"Oh shit," the kid breathed. "Uh... Hey, Mr. Hulk."

Hulk narrowed his eyes and curled a lip to show his barred teeth. "MOVE. HULK, SMASH KITCHEN."

"How about I tell you a joke instead?" The teenager said quickly. "You like jokes? I know a lot of jokes!"

"JOKE?"

"Oh, yeah," the teen nodded. "I bet I can make you laugh. It makes all the superheroes laugh, and you're— You're a superhero."

"HULK, SUPERHERO?"

"Yeah!" The kid smiled and slowly let Hulk's hand go. "Of course, dude. You're an Avenger."

Hulk stared.

"So do you want to hear the joke?"

Hulk jerked a tight nod.

"Okay, awesome!" The teenager sniffed. "What's a superhero's favourite drink?"

"WHAT?" Hulk asked.

"Fruit punch," he said with a grin.

Hulk paused, then he grinned and let out a boisterous laugh. "GOOD JOKE. HULK LIKE PUNCHING. HULK, SMASH."

And Hulk laughed, and laughed, and laughed— Until Bruce Banner leaned tiredly against the unbroken kitchen counter with the remains of his shirt draping around his neck. He looked up at the teenager with confusion. He furrowed his eyebrows. "You... You just stopped the Hulk."

The kid smiled back at him, eyebags under red eyes. "I think that if was like, even one percent more awake right now, I would be freaking out."

"Yeah," Bruce huffed. "Yeah, Hulk isn't pretty, I wouldn't blame you."

"No, I mean— Meeting you," he gestured up and down. "I was you for Halloween when I was a kid. I had like, a lab coat, and I carried around a printed out copy of your papers on Gamma Radiation."

Bruce blinked several times in shock and disbelief. He stumbled a bit. "You dressed up as Bruce Banner for Halloween? When— When you were a kid?"

"Yeah," the kid smiled nervously. He held out his hand. "Um, Peter. Peter Parker."

Bruce stared down at his hand and then finally shook it, his movements stunted and lazily from his surprise. "It's nice to meet you, Peter."

"Well, I really need to get to sleep," Peter said with a huffed laugh, looking up at the clock above the fridge. "But uh, it was nice meeting you too. I'll see you around, Dr. Banner."

Peter Parker was already well on a different floor before Bruce's mind finally caught up with him, and he realized he had forgotten to ask Peter about his powers.

(Not to worry, because it was only the next morning that Tony stalked into his lab with a proud grin on his face, and introduced him to Peter Parker for the second time, praising and prattling about how he had found a brainiac teenager smarter than the both of them combined.)

5. steve rogers

The first time Steve met him, it was completely and entirely by chance.

He was standing in the elevator, hands tucked loosely in the pockets of his hoodie. The floors flickered down from five, to four, three, two, and then they stopped. The doors opened and the kid bumbled inwards, backpack strung over his shoulder and earbuds in his ears— he's staring down at his phone.

"This bucket of bolts is never going to get us past that blockade," he murmured quietly, then smiled cockily. "This baby's got a few surprises left in her, sweetheart."

Steve's eyebrows furrowed in a curious amusement. Part of him wanted to speak up, tell the kid it wasn't safe to walk around without hearing or seeing your surroundings— if he had done that when he was Peter's age, he woulda found himself beat up in an alleyway behind the old theatre.

The other part of him didn't want to seem old and lame, so instead he jerked his chin up. "What are you watching?"

The teenager looked up quickly. His mouth opened in shock as he suddenly realized the company he was with— a look Steve was regularly given. He pulled an earbud out. "Uh, Star Wars."

"Oh," Steve nodded vaguely. "I've meant to watch that, at some point..."

"It's really good," the teen smiled earnestly. "I started watching this in the car on the way here, so I'll have to finish it after I see Mr. Stark, but—"

Steve raised an eyebrow with interest at the mention of Tony. He cleared his throat politely, shifting on his feet to look at him better. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you before. What's your name, kid?"

"My name's Peter," he replied awkwardly and fidgeted with the cracks in his phone's screen protector. "Do I call you, uh— Mr— Captain? Captain, uh... Rogers? Er—"

"Steve is fine," Steve smiled teasingly. "Nice to meet you, Peter. Are you an intern? You look young. Not that I can judge, I was working at eight, passing newspapers to neighbors for a penny."

"...Yeah, I'm an intern," Peter explained, chuckling slightly. He cleared his throat. "Still in highschool though. You know— It's really funny, actually, because I had to watch one of your videos for class yesterday."

Steve grimaced. "Oh no."

Peter's smile widened. "I think I have your whole like, script, memorized. Hearing your voice saying completely different things is throwing me off."

Steve felt his ears go hot. He was crawling in his own skin, hiding his face behind his hand and smiling tiredly. "Those are a long story—"

"So," Peter continued seriously over him, doing what Steve could only assume was his best 'Captain America' impression. "You got detention—"

"No," Steve laughed hard, hand on his chest. "Why do they still use those? God—"

After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator door finally dinged. Peter smiled at him. "Well, uh, it was nice talking with you. Especially while not like, fighting."

Steve took a breath, confused and recovering from the previous bout of laughter. "Hm?"

Peter simply walked out of the elevator and saluted him with a grin. "Bye, Brooklyn."

The elevator door closed. Steve is left alone with his jaw dropped.

Who said the youth weren't surprising?

+1: tony stark

Rhodey wandered into the second floor living room of the Compound with the distinctive clicking noise of the prosthetics. He rapped his knuckles on the wall. "Anybody know where Tony is?"

Natasha, lounged on the white loveseat against the window, looked up from her book. "Is he even here?"

"Well, yeah," Rhodey huffed. "Where else would he be? Has nobody seen him even dig up here for coffee, like the star-nosed caffeine mole he is?"

"Nope," Clint said, sitting against the floor and scrolling aimlessly through his phone with an expression of eternal boredom. "Is he with his kid?"

Steve froze from his spot at the stovetop, looking up with alarm. The wooden spoon in his hand hovered above the boiling water pot.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows and put the chess piece he was holding back on the board. He looked over to Thor, who was so ferociously concentrated on winning that he didn't even seem to hear the conversation around him.

Bruce kicked him lightly in the shin. "Tony's got a kid?"

Thor widened his eyes, looked up and around like a startled animal. "I wasn't aware Stark had offspring?"

"He has an intern," Natasha corrected with amusement, giving Tony, and the confused company, the benefit of the doubt. "Not quite his."

"Oh, that's his kid," Rhodey sighed heavily. "He's a scrawny little punk. Definitely Stark blood. I'll go check the lab."

"Hold it," Clint looked up in sarcastic awe. "You mean to say someone other than Bruce was let into the precious lab?"

"It's just a safety precaution," Bruce explained in embarrassed stuttered mumbles. "There's a lot of dangerous stuff in there—"

"But he lets a kid—"

"Intern—"

The elevator chimed. The doors opened and the two fools in question meandered out into the hallway. As they walked down to the living room, all the Avengers could hear a familiar voice all of which had been acquainted to ramble off.

"I'm just saying, I would've had more time to fix the calculations myself but I got caught up on everything with this huge guy who was totally tearing up Times Square," Peter rounded the corner, smears of oil and general mechanic schmutz on his cheek. He trailed closely next to Tony, who was grinning down at a holographic tablet and moving around parts of a digital suit rendering.

Tony wandered into the kitchen. "Yeah, I heard your report. I also heard, via May, that you forgot to do your homework again though, huh? What's your excuse for that one, kiddie?"

Peter hopped up on the kitchen counter, taking the tablet from Tony's hand. He started doing his own work on the render as Tony stepped around Steve to get to the fridge.

"Apple juice?" Tony called out, swinging the fridge door open. "We're out of the, uh... the Capri suns, but I put more on the grocery list for next time."

"Apple juice is fine, thanks," Peter chirped. He tilted his head and zoomed in on the Iron Man chest plate. "Mr. Stark, what if we changed the layering of the arc reactor to fit the nano-particles, instead of reworking the whole thing?"

Tony hummed, tossed back a bottle of apple juice (which Peter caught without looking) and closed the fridge. He took a seat next to Peter, but actually on a barstool rather than on the counter, and looked over at the tablet.

"Show me," he said blankly.

Peter moved some things on the screen, wrote down some numbers and letters, and looked up at him. Tony scratched his goatee in thought, and then nodded. He ruffled Peter's hair. "Yeah. Looks good, kid. I'll get the prototypes 3D-printed for next time and we'll put it all together."

"Awesome," Peter grinned. He cracked open the apple juice and sipped at it. He looked up at the rest of the living room. "Oh, hey, guys."

The Avengers at this moment were all suddenly on the exact same page, albeit with varying reactions. Clint, who was smirking, an eyebrow raised, knowing and maybe even a little impressed. Bruce, who had now put together the pieces he had and was pleasantly surprised, beside Thor who was only surprised. Steve, the most shocked, and Nat, the least shocked.

Meanwhile, Tony, finally looking up only when Peter said hello, recognized the people in the room. He nodded in acknowledgment. "Ah. Avengers, this is Peter."

"We know," Clint said smugly. "Pretty sure we've all met him."

"Sorry?" Tony furrowed his eyebrows. He looked between Peter, and then the rest of the Avengers. "When did you meet each other? Other than Romanoff and Banner, I haven't told anyone else about the kid—"

"I met them," Peter spoke up. He put his finished bottle of apple juice on the counter and smiled. "I met Hawkeye in the medbay one night, Steve in the elevator, and Thor on the lawn— that was really cool, by the way."

Tony hesitated, and then shrugged. "Alright, then. Anyways, nobody can steal him. You guys can get your own Avenger intern prodigies, this one is mine. Looking at you, Rogers."

Peter covered his face with one hand and stifled a laugh. "Mr. Stark—"

Steve put his hands up defensively, giving a kind smile. "No worries, Tony."

(Everybody knew it would be impossible to separate the two, anyways. But anybody would be lucky to have Peter as a kid-intern-thing...

Just ask Tony Stark.)

#irondad and spiderson #irondad fanfiction #tumblr fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #tony stark #tony stark and peter parker #fluff #domestic avengers

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 5 months ago

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So I want to write another songfic soon, but I really can't decide what song to choose first, so I will let you guys decide. Below you will find the poll followed by the songs, the ideas and which turtle I had thought about.

"Love Letter" - MM!Donatello x reader (Fluff/Angst): You and Donnie starts to experience young love during Donnie's first year at high school. But after both of you return after the summer, things seemed to have changed between you. Is everything over between you and Donnie, or is it just simply teen angst and confusion, and fear of confronting strong feelings?

"Don't Say Me You Love Me" - IDW!Michelangelo x reader (18+): You and Mikey has for quite some time, been in a friends with benefits relation. But Mikey is slowly showing more and more signs that he wishes for something more, which scares you. Will you and Mikey stick to your old ways, or will you give in and start a relationship with the mutant in orange?

"STRUT" - Future!Raphael x reader (18+) (Good Future): After watching you pass by on a night out, making it very clear what you were out looking for, Raph just can't get you out of his mind, soon wishing for nothing more, than to see that ass and those legs pass by him once more.

"All My Love" - Bayverse!Leonardo x reader (Fluff): After a chance meeting in the night, you find yourself dreaming back to that magical night, were you danced with the mutant in blue, wishing for nothing more than to do it again. And maybe, just maybe, he might show up once again.

"mietfrei" - 1987!Raphael x reader (Angst): Your typical break up story. After a rather bad ending to you and Raph's relationship, the red brute expects himself to move on rather fast. But though he thinks very little of you during the day, Raph can't get a moments sleep without seeing you in front of him.

"Stadi (Alicia)" - ShellsTourAU!Donatello x reader (18+): During a chance meeting at a club in Helsinki, you and Donnie soon find each other wrapped in more than just your arms, as you prepare to party like Stadi (Helsinki) is New York City.

"Kamæleon" - 1990!Leonardo x reader (Fluff/Angst): Leo has a crush, and he is willing to show you just how much he cares for you, even if you ain't always willing to show him how much you care for him. But can Leo change that, and make you understand exactly how much he loves you?

"Is It Love" - TRL!Donatello x reader (Fluff?/Angst?): You ache for Donnie. You miss him like nothing else. But as you question if your feelings for him has always just been platonic or something more, can Donnie's ghosts help you figure it out? Or is it just a figment of your imagination?

"ICH KOMME" - Bayverse!Donatello x reader (18+): One meeting turns into many hours of hot and heavy love making, where you and Donnie have fun and help each other every step of the way, and maybe even start catching a few feelings along the way.

"RELATIONS" - 2003!Raphael x reader (18+): After several failed relationships in the past, you and Raph keep telling each other that you're nothing but friends. Friends that just happens to sleep naked in the same bed. While everyone else can see you and Raph's relationship and feelings for what they are, you and Raph refuse to do anything about it, saying that it's not for the two of you. But what if it is?...

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt x reader #tmnt songfic #tmnt x reader songfic #Spotify

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jokeroutsubs · 1 year ago

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🧊JokerOutSubs Iceberg Explained

Layer by layer

Explanations below the cut 👇

First layer:

Three kaksi ananas lonkero:

This is a fun anecdote told by Jan during our Tampere interview. They wanted to order three ananas (‘pineapple’) lonkero in Finland and… well, watch the video at 7:44 to find out :)

Noteworthy:

This is how Jan (again!) described his friendship with Nace when asked about the Damon Baker photoshoot during our London interview. Check it out here at 46:42 if you missed it!

‘JokerOutSubs: No one translates it better.’:

Another reference to our London interview with the boys. This is something that Bojan said about JokerOutSubs. We loved it so much, we added it as an intro to our original content, and a tagline on all our platforms! See it here at 0:08!

Second layer:

‘We have a certain type of door locks.’:

Another fun anecdote from our Tampere interview, this time from Jure! Did you know that Finland and Slovenia had such different door locks? We sure didn’t! Learn more about it here at 4:33!

JOS Stožice live:

On the 6th of October, several of our members went to Joker Out at Stožice, and live streamed the gig for over 1000 people! You can find both parts of the livestream here and here

‘Ofcourse the best interview was done by joker.out.subs’ and ‘always a pleasure chatting with joker.out.subs:

These are some lovely messages that Joker Out shared through their IG stories after two of our interviews.

Hvala, fantje. Radi vas mamo <3

Third layer:

Italyboo:

This was an award that we gave to the winner of our ‘How Italian ARE YOU?’ game during our Padova interview. Watch the game and find out who the lucky winner is here at 13:10!

Kiki the PR genius:

This funny tale from the Padova interview here at 3:15 is about Kiki, their ‘beloved technician’ (Bojan’s words, not ours). It’s thanks to him that the whole JO fandom had a meltdown over the lyrics to Šta bih ja before we even heard the song live in Helsinki! Thank you, Kiki, you mastermind.

Carpe Diem and Welcome to the Backstage translations:

Possibly the greatest pride for us at JokerOutSubs was being allowed to add subtitles to Joker Out’s Carpe Diem and Welcome to the Backstage series. Thank you boys and THANK YOU MARK for your trust.

Translating Cvetličarna:

Did you know how JokerOutSubs started? What the first big video ever translated was? It was this, the concert in Cvetličarna. If you want to know some lore, make sure not to miss our chat with Anja, who founded JokerOutSubs, and who came up with the idea of translating in the first place!

Cedevita:

You haven’t really tasted Slovenia if you hadn’t had a sip of Cedevita, a fruit-flavoured instant fizzy drink, packed with vitamins. (Cedevita pls sponsor us). This drink is actually Croatian, but it’s so popular in Slovenia it’s a staple in every household. It was part of the ‘package from home’ we gave to Joker Out during our London interview - you can see the snacks we gifted them here at 3:18. One of our members was served a very generous portion by Jure!

Fourth layer:

‘Deeeeej mi vse.’:

This is referencing the original lyrics to Umazane misli, explained to us by Bojan himself in our London interview at 30:42. One of our members also sang this version in Milano during Umazane misli karaoke!

Damon Baker mentioned you in his story:

The moment that gave JOS members a heart attack. The wonderful Damon Baker shared our short interview with Kris on his Instagram story to 1.2 million people! We love you Damon!

'Your nipples are shining so much man.’:

One of the most cursed translations we have ever done - Bojan slow dancing with a mannequin during the London era.

April fools:

On April 1st 2024, we decided to have a little fun with the fanbase and post some fake articles on our Tumblr. Kris and Jure even shared their articles on their stories! You can check them out here:

Bojan moving to Finland

Kris joining K3

Jure’s drumstick crisis

Jan and Nace’s new cat

Lightswitches:

Kris told us in our Tampere interview that one of his biggest culture shocks in Finland was that it’s always hard to find the lightswitch. You can watch it here at 4:19.

Fifth layer:

Pięćdziesięciogroszówka w klubie:

Jan told us in Finland that he liked long words, so we came to our second Joker Out interview in Poland prepared! This means '50 cents (in the club).' Watch the boys try to pronounce it here at 12:54

Translating made up words:

Joker Out enjoy making up words, which we then have to translate! That means we need to make up our own words in lots of different languages. We have hundreds of examples of this, but our favourite is probably sparklative - and here it is in different languages!

Danish - Glitretivende (based on glitrende, ‘sparkling’, the adjective henrivende, ‘good looking/charming’ and the adverb rivende, which is an amplifying expression meaning something like ‘completely’)

Dutch - Sprankelijk (based on sprankelend, ‘sparkly’ and the suffix -elijk)

Finnish - Kimalleltava (based on kimaltava, ‘sparkling’)

French - Brilliantesque (based on brilliant, ‘sparkly’, and the suffix -esque)

German - Glitzernig (based on Glitzern, ‘to sparkle’ and the suffix -ig)

Hungarian -Csillogoló (based on csillogó, ‘sparkling’)

Italian - Scintalloso (based on scintillare, ‘to sparkle/shine’, the suffix -oso and an -a instead of on -i in the second syllable. The correct word for ‘sparkling’ is scintillante or brillante)

Japanese - かやがいてる, kayagaiteru (based on かがやいてる (輝いてる)/kagayaiteru, ‘sparkling/shining’)

Macedonian - Cветникаво, svetnikavo (based on светка/svetka, which means ‘sparkle’ and the suffix -никаво/-nikavo)

Polish - Iskrzające (based on iskrzące, 'sparkling')

Serbian/Croatian- Šljokičazmično (based on šljokičasto, ‘glittery/sequined’)

Slovenian- Bleščečitno (based on bleščeče, 'sparkly', and the suffix -no/-tno which serves a similar purpose as the suffix -ive/-tive in English)

Spanish - Brillantivo (based on brillante, ‘sparkling’)

Swedish - Glittererande (based on glittrande, ‘sparkling’)

Turkish - Fışıltılı (based on ışıltılı, ‘sparkling’)

Stožice project:

The fan project at Stožice, in which everyone held coloured hearts to their phone lights and held up signs with a message, was actually organised by JokerOutSubs members! We hope you liked it boys!

NACE DEJ MI TIČA:

Another slightly odd translation from the London era. This means, ‘Nace, give me your cock’, and was said by Bojan! We made sure to check thoroughly before posting this out to the fanbase!

Uno reverse card:

One of our favourite moments from the See You Soon tour was seeing the entire band sing Umazane misli, as Bojan was tricked with UNO reverse cards by our founder, Anja! You can watch the whole thing here

Gate trga:

In a Val 202 interview in August 2023, Bojan decided to use a piece of Slovene slang, ‘gate trga’, which literally means ‘ripping underwear’, to describe what Martin is up to these days. Cue confusion in all our non-Slovene teams!!! This is a prime example of how difficult slang is to translate, and has become a go to comment for our members when the boys use slang words: “It's another ‘gate trga’ moment!” We translated it as ‘kicking ass’, and you can read the original article here

Sixth layer:

‘NO’:

One of our favourite memes to come from our original content - Bojan holding the ‘no’ paddle in Padova looking extremely indignant at the idea of sweatpants in public being a fashion crime. We call him Nojan and we love it! Check out our Padova interview games at 13:10

Only BoMartin hug video:

A fan favourite moment from Stožice was the hug Bojan and Martin shared after he appeared onstage for Kot srce ki kri poganja. It was an incredibly sweet moment, that was captured by the JOS livestream but cut out of the official Stožice documentary! Now it only exists in our saved livestream on Instagram!

‘You are and are amazing’:

These were Bojan’s sweet words at the end of our interview in Tampere. It’s at 15:12.

‘Was some AI included?’:

The day of our first interview with Joker Out was also the release date of SSOL. For the occasion, we translated the song in 15 languages! Kris asked if we had done the translations using some AI - but we would NEVER at JokerOutSubs! You can check it out here from 0:31.

RTVSLO notice:

While in Helsinki during the See You Soon tour, one of our members recorded the first playout of Šta bih ja and Bluza and sent the videos straight to our discord server for translation, and they were posted up for everyone to enjoy overnight. We were so happy to see Joker Out themselves mentioned this in their press release about the songs, including the one to RTVSLO!!

Bojan’s fish hat:

Just some fun JokerOutSubs lore, but the now famous Women want me, fish fear me hat was gifted to Bojan by one of our members during the soundcheck in Milano! He posted a picture right after receiving it. We love to see!

Seventh layer:

‘You don’t love me??’:

In our London interview, we asked Jan and Nace why they chose to do their Damon Baker shoot together, and Jan quite beautifully explained Damon’s vision of a portrayal of non romantic intimacy. Bojan then had to make a joke. You can watch the moment here at 46:43.

Bunda:

We love a good mistranslation here at JokerOutSubs, and many British fans were left confused when the boys posted that Kiki had lost his ‘bunda’ (coat), as it has a very different meaning in the UK! We discussed it in our fan interviews in London for episode 2 of Queue and A! Check it out here at 11:12!

Stolen Joker Rangers meme:

On March 9th, we posted the trailer to our new translation, which was a collaboration with the radio RadioAKTIVNO. For the trailer we used a moment in the interview where the boys talked about which Power Ranger they would be. Of course, we had to make an edit worth of Joker Out!

The very next day, Joker Out posted a picture of themselves as Power Rangers to promote their gig in Kraków.

A funny coincidence? Maybe. Of course, we had to remark on it!

Demoni karaoke:

During their gig in Helsinki in September, one of our Finnish members sang a Demoni karaoke! You can watch the video from 7:50 here. Way to go!

JokerOutSubs’ biggest fan Nace and second biggest fan Häärijä:

We can count many important milestones during our first year of life, but nothing beats the moment Häärijä, and later Nace, started following us! Thank you for acknowledging our work!

As a result, we joke that they are our biggest fans. But is it really a joke?? 🤔

Umazane misli in Japanese:

Another amazing karaoke done by one of our amazing members, this time it was Umazane misli in Japanese during the gig in Ljubljana last December. How cool is that?? We posted a video of that on our IG with Japanese subtitles.

Eighth layer:

Wet towel removal and wonky flag tying:

Our members who interviewed the boys in Padova gave the room a spruce up before recording, including the removal of a pile of wet towels and tying up a very wonky JokerOutSubs flag. We had to credit Anja for this hugely important piece of work, so we snuck some silly credits in at the end of the interview!

Do solzice:

When we read a message to the boys at the end of our London interview to explain the impact they’ve had on Slovenian fans, we were all quite emotional! Bojan later posted the message with the caption ‘Tole je bilo pa do solzice’ - ‘This one was a tear jerker’. For us too, Bojan! You can watch the moment here at 56:37.

'Che c***o! (in serbo)':

We were super happy to see the band post about all the translations we did for the Carpe Diem series, but our Italian team had a giggle that THIS was the screenshot they chose to highlight the new Italian subtitles - this translates to ‘What the fuck? (in Serbian)’.

Furious native English speakers:

Our native English review is a hugely important part of our process, partly because there’s some things that are consistently mistranslated. Here’s a few that have become iconic within JokerOutSubs for the sheer number of corrections.

Neki - it’s not ‘some’, it’s 'some kind of'

Dejmo en aplavz - not ‘give an applause’, it’s ’give a ROUND of applause’

po eni strani - not ‘on one hand’ but ‘on THE one hand’!

JOS Twitch stream:

Only the OG’s will know! In the earliest days of JokerOutSubs, we actually streamed a few shows on twitch, where our team was working as fast as possible to live translate in the chat for all the international fans who were watching! The devil works hard but JOS works harder!!

We hope you’ve enjoyed seeing a sneak peek at some of our history, lore, favourite moments and behind the scenes here at JokerOutSubs in honour of our anniversary! Here’s to many more years of translating for you wonderful Baby Boos!

#JokerOutSubs #JOS1YearAnniversary

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kurooscoffee · 2 years ago

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Käärijä made it into Slovenian media today!

ENG Translation: The Finn who made Slovenians go crazy impressed with his Slovenian knowledge #video

Source: Siol.net

The Finn, who was considered the favourite in this year's Eurovision Song Contest, was second overall. Photo: @paidatonriehuja/ Instagram

The Finnish Eurovision representative Käärijä, who was considered the favourite at this year's contest and finished second overall, shared a video on his Instagram profile in which he thanked all his Slovenian fans for their support and impressed them with his excellent knowledge of Slovenian.

Käärijä, whose real name is Jere Pöyhönen, addressed his fans in a unique way. In different languages, including Slovenian, he thanked everyone for coming to his concerts and for all the support he has received after Eurovision.

See what he had to say to his Slovenian fans in the video below: (video)

In addition to Slovenian, he also tried out his knowledge of Spanish, German, Polish, Swedish, Estonian, French, Israeli, Icelandic, Norwegian, Italian, Ukrainian, Dutch, Greek, Turkish and even Japanese.

Friendship with the frontman of Joker Out

The Finn, who was considered the favourite in this year's Eurovision Song Contest, came in second place with 526 points, 57 points behind the winner Loreen.

He has become a favourite among Slovenians thanks to his friendship with Bojan Cvjetićanin, the lead singer of Joker Out. After Eurovision, Cvjetićanin visited Käärijä in Helsinki, where they performed together at one of his concerts. Their friendship has been described by many as "the best friendship in Eurovision history".

[Tweet embed]

#käärijä #jere pöyhönen #bojan cvjeticanin #bojan cvjetićanin #bojere #the choice of the tweet is /sending/ me #stop exposing Bojči like that in national media sjdcbhdhvc

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fozzieosbourne · 2 months ago

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“Hello Helsinki. How are you doing…?”

⭐️🌟⭐️

Sam Lake has joined the RMD Eras Tour!! Check it out at the link below! ⬇️

#remedy entertainment #remedy games #remedyverse #alan wake 2 #sam lake #alan wake #alan wake ii #alan wake game #sami järvi #max payne #alexi kesa #alex casey #aleksi kesä

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broidobe · 5 months ago

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𝔫𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰

requested by @yeotozaki! this s a continuation to interruption which is linked below

☾sami and the reader's budding romance deepens through shared moments of vulnerability, music, and quiet intimacy, proving that love can transform even the shyest heart☽

☾warnings: mentions of anxiety and self-doubt, mild sensuality, light alcohol mention☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚interruption

⁎⁺˳✧༚hanoi rocks masterlist

the soft hum of helsinki’s nightlife filled the air as you and sami strolled side by side, your breath misting in the crisp evening. snow blanketed the ground, the faint crunch beneath your boots adding rhythm to your steps. the first date had been perfect—so perfect it felt like a scene from a movie. now, weeks had passed, and the shy, hesitant sami had transformed into someone more confident, more open with you, though his quiet charm remained ever present.

“i was thinking,” sami began, his fingers brushing against yours in a fleeting touch that sent warmth radiating through you. “next weekend, maybe we could go skating? there’s this frozen lake a little outside the city. it’s beautiful this time of year.”

you smiled, your hand slipping into his as you squeezed it gently. “that sounds amazing. though, i should warn you, i’m not exactly graceful on the ice.”

a soft chuckle escaped him, his thumb tracing small circles over the back of your hand. “that’s okay. i’ll catch you if you fall.”

moments like these had become your new normal. sami’s subtle humor, the way he carefully chose his words, and the quiet sincerity in his actions made you feel like you’d stepped into something rare. even michael had taken to teasing you both, calling you “the inseparables” and laughing whenever sami’s gaze lingered on you for too long during group hangouts.

one evening, you found yourself at sami’s apartment. it was cozy and warm, the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air, mingling with the soft notes of his guitar. he was perched on the edge of the couch, completely lost in the melody he was strumming—a haunting, beautiful tune that filled the room and wrapped around you like a favorite blanket.

“is that something new?” you asked softly, not wanting to interrupt the flow of his playing.

he glanced up, his hair falling into his eyes as he gave you a sheepish smile. “yeah, just messing around. it’s not finished yet.”

“it sounds incredible,” you said earnestly, leaning forward in your seat.

a faint blush colored his cheeks, and he set the guitar down beside him. “you really think so?”

“i do,” you replied, your voice steady. “you’ve got this way of making everything you play feel… personal. like you’re telling a story, even without words.”

sami stared at you for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the perfect response. instead, he reached out, his hand warm against yours as he pulled you closer. “it’s easier to write now,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “since you came along.”

your heart skipped a beat, his words wrapping around you with a warmth that reached deep into your chest.

“come here,” he said softly, his hand tugging you gently.

you stood, allowing him to guide you toward him. with a tender pull, he settled you onto his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. the room felt smaller, more intimate, as you rested your hands against his shoulders.

“you make everything better, you know that?” he murmured, his forehead brushing against yours.

his words carried a weight you hadn’t expected, spoken with a vulnerability that took your breath away.

“i could say the same about you,” you whispered, brushing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

his lips curled into a smile, and he kissed you softly, lingering as though he never wanted to let you go. the kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, a reflection of everything sami was—gentle, thoughtful, and deeply passionate.

later that night, as you curled up together on the couch, sami’s fingers absently played with yours. “you know,” he began, his voice low, “i never thought i’d get this lucky. for a while, it felt like everyone just… overlooked me.”

your heart ached at the thought. “why would anyone overlook you?” you asked, leaning closer. “you’re incredible, sami.”

he laughed softly, though it held a note of self-deprecation. “maybe you’re just seeing something no one else has before.”

you shook your head firmly. “then they weren’t looking closely enough. you’re kind, talented, and…” you hesitated, your voice softening as you admitted, “you make me feel like i’m the luckiest person in the world.”

sami’s expression shifted, his gaze softening with something you couldn’t quite name. “you mean that?”

“every word.”

he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” he murmured, “but i’m going to make sure i never take you for granted.”

from that moment on, things only grew stronger between you. sami’s natural shyness slowly gave way to a quiet confidence, especially around you. whether it was the way he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face with a gentle touch, or the small notes he left in your bag after a café visit, he made every moment feel like a declaration of how much he cared.

by the time the weekend arrived, and you stood together on the frozen lake under a sky painted with soft hues of twilight, you knew this was more than just a passing romance. as you stumbled on the ice and he caught you, both of you laughing breathlessly, it became clear: sami wasn’t just a fleeting part of your life. he was someone you wanted to hold onto, someone who made even the simplest moments unforgettable.

and from the way he looked at you, his green eyes full of warmth and quiet devotion, you knew he felt the same.

#broidobe #sami yaffa yay #sami yaffa x reader #sami yaffa #hanoi rocks x reader #hanoi rocks #sami hanoi rocks #glam rock

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justforbooks · 4 months ago

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Top 10 novels about novelists

From Louisa May Alcott to Philip Roth and Michael Chabon, writers of fiction have long been fascinated by the dramas of their own trade

Writers writing about writers: the fact that there’s a lot of it about should perhaps come as no surprise. From the likes of Jack Torrance in The Shining to Paul Morris in Sabine Durrant’s Lie With Me, writers in fiction are often skewered: preening, blocked, dejected creatures who’ll receive their comeuppance – or salvation – one way or another.

In the books below you’ll find accounts of literary theft and false authorship, washed-up novelists fading to nothing on college campuses, and a fine array of supersize egos. But, you’ll also find hope: people discovering their place in the world through writing and that happiest of endings – a sparkling book deal.

1. Wonder Boys by Michael Chabon

Grady Tripp is a professor at a Pittsburgh university, with a predilection for drink, drugs and extra-marital affairs. He’s also a struggling novelist, failing to finish the long-awaited – and currently just enormously long – follow-up to his last award-winning book. As Grady says, “I had the depressing thought, certainly not for the first time, that my novel might well survive me unfinished.” When Grady’s flamboyant editor Terry Crabtree comes to town for WordFest weekend, cue a caper that is as funny as it is poignant.

2. The Plot by Jean Hanff Korelitz

When down-on-his-luck author Jacob Finch Bonnet takes up a new teaching role at a Vermont college he is under-prepared, uninterested, and feeling impostor syndrome to his very bones. He soon encounters his worst nightmare: an extravagantly confident student possessed of an idea for a novel that is so remarkable that even Jake despairingly admits, “the worst writer on the planet could not mess up a plot like this”. Before too long, the stars align for Jake to make his ill-advised move. The killer plot is now his, and glittering success soon follows. But will it last? Spoiler: no.

3. Bunny by Mona Awad

Warren University’s MFA programme is known for its “experimental approach to narrative”. Its first all-female fiction cohort consists of Samantha, a self-professed outsider, and four “Bunnies”, a tight-knit group of sickly-sweet rich girls. When the Bunnies extend the paw of friendship to Samantha, she can’t figure out whether it’s genuine or comes with cruel intentions; after all, they’re not backwards in coming forwards with their peer review, dubbing her work “wilfully twisted” and “aggressively dark”. Soon Samantha is invited to the Bunnies’ extra-curricular “workshops”, where the boundaries between fact and fiction, nightmare and reality blur.

4. The Wife by Meg Wolitzer

When creative writing tutor and decidedly average writer Joe Castleman says to his student Joan, “You have no conception of how good you are” it’s a perfect moment of foreshadowing in a novel that’s as much about sexual politics as it is about the writing life. When we meet Joan, aged 64, she’s accompanying her husband, now a celebrated writer, to pick up “the Helsinki prize” – and she’s finally had enough of him. As the novel tracks back through their past together, readers will wish that Joan had come to this realisation sooner.

5. The Truth about the Harry Quebert Affair by Joël Dicker

Marcus Goldman’s first novel was a stratospheric hit and since then he’s been enjoying every minute of it, with adoring readers wherever he goes. The only problem is that there hasn’t been much time to write the follow-up, and deadline after deadline has gone whooshing by. But now his publishers are getting mad, there are threats of a lawsuit, and the only person who might be able to help him out of this sticky spot is his former college writing professor, Harry Quebert. Quebert invites Goldman to stay at his oceanside house in New Hampshire to get that novel finished. But Goldman’s wordcount plans go awry when the corpse of a teenage girl is discovered on Harry’s property, buried alongside the manuscript for Quebert’s famed novel, The Origin of Evil. It falls to Goldman to clear his prof’s name – motivated, perhaps in part, by the promise of a million-dollar advance for the resulting book. Murder and megabucks: now there’s a cure for writer’s block.

6. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Jo, the second eldest of the March sisters – and Alcott’s alter ego – is smart, independent, and happiest when she’s at her writing desk, dressed in her ink-stained “scribbling suit”. Enduring an early setback on her road to published authordom (take one slighted sister, add a cherished manuscript and a roaring fire), Jo eventually turns pro, earning hard cash for her “sensation” stories. But when she’s shamed by a high-handed intellectual – reader, she married him; Alcott, what were you thinking? – Jo struggles to find her voice, first abandoning her gothic thrills for moralistic yarns, before toying with children’s fiction, then declaring herself temporarily out of the game until she’s accrued more life experience. “I like good strong words that mean something,” says Jo, and generations of readers have loved hers.

7. Dear Committee Members by Julie Schumacher

As creative writing professor at an undistinguished liberal arts college, Jason Fitger is frequently asked to pen letters of recommendation for his students and assorted colleagues. A year’s worth of such letters makes for an epistolary novel that gives a brilliantly comic insight into the politics, frustrations and occasional joys of academia, as well as a teasing study of a man on the ropes. His sign-off to the very first letter captures the tone of a novel that manages to be uplifting, despite the disappointments that its hero faces: “In sadness but looking to the future.”

8. The Retreat by Mark Edwards

Cash-strapped and lonely, grieving the loss of her husband and daughter, Julia Marsh opens her rural home as a venue for writing retreats. Enter Lucas Radcliffe, a successful horror writer with a tragic past and a severe case of writer’s block. As Lucas and Julia forge a bond, he becomes determined to solve the mystery of her missing daughter. But this corner of deepest, darkest Wales is holding its own secrets, leading Lucas to delve into local folklore, and a sequence of eerie events ratchets up the fear-factor. It will leave you thinking twice about booking your own writing retreat.

9. Jumping Monkey Hill by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

One of 12 stories in Adichie’s 2009 collection, The Thing Around Your Neck, here we meet Ujunwa, a Nigerian woman who’s won a place on a retreat for the fictional Lipton African writers’ prize. The organiser is Edward Campbell, who announces himself “an Oxford-trained Africanist”. Ujunwa’s alarm bells are already ringing as she arrives at a resort for affluent foreign tourists – all of whom are white. Over the course of the retreat she confronts not just the self-important Campbell’s lasciviousness, but also his absurd proclamations of what “authentic African” writing should – and shouldn’t – be. Ujunwa, whose writing we’re treated to throughout the story, makes for a luminous heroine.

10. The Ghost Writer by Philip Roth

Twenty-three-year-old Nathan Zuckerman arrives at the home of his literary hero, the famous recluse EI Lonoff. Initially starstruck, the ambitious Nathan – an alter ego for Roth who would feature in eight further novels – wants not just to learn from the man who embodies creative integrity, “a giant of patience and fortitude and selflessness”, but become his “spiritual son”. Luck’s on Nathan’s side as a snowstorm means his visit is extended. He is enthralled and enchanted – not least by the figure of Lonoff’s assistant Amy Bellette, a Jewish immigrant whose enigmatic identity gives The Ghost Writer the propulsive energy of a mystery novel, as well as being a tender, comic story of mentor and mentee.

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#just for books #Top 10s #book review #book list

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kudiikis · 4 months ago

Text

Berlin x Bucharest

Warning: Massive fucking spoilers for the end of Money Heist Korea - don’t read if you haven’t finished the show.

Context: The operation is near the end and the police and military have breached the bank. The team are trying to escape with the cash via their planned route.

“We’ll be caught at this rate!” Berlin snapped, staring down into the tunnel as Narobi and Helsinki tried to get the bomb to work.

Bucharest shoulder checked Helsinki, shoving him out of the way to try and desperately fix something he really had no business messing with. But it was a bomb fuck’s sakes, the point was to get it to blow.

“I’ll try to stop them somehow.” He called down, disguising his fear as anger.

The trio stopped for a second, not believing what they just heard. Bucharest abandoned the fight with the bomb and climbed half way up the later, seeing Berlin begin to set up a makeshift stand for his gun.

“What are you doing?” They said in sync before Bucharest furrowed his brows.

“Me? What the hell are you doing? You’ll be killed!”

“I was gonna die anyway.” He dismissed, continuing to set up.

“Yeah, of old age in my arms!” He yelled, starting to climb further up the tunnel before Berlin grabbed him.

“Go.” Berlin said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Tears started in Bucharest’s eyes, his jaw clenching as he felt Berlin’s hands come to cup his cheeks. The sound of the saw whirling against the metal door faded, the feeling of Narobi and Helsinki pulling on his legs to try and get him down was gone. All he could hear was the beating of Berlin’s heart, all he could feel was his hands on his skin.

“Don’t do this..” He whispered, tears falling down onto Berlin’s hands.

“I love you.” Berlin whipped his tears with his thumbs before placing his hands on his shoulders, trying to push Bucharest down into the tunnel.

His hands grabbed onto his arms, his grip like iron as his finger nails dug into his skin even through the jumpsuit.

“I will never forgive you for this, do you hear me?” His voice was shaking, his gaze firmly looked on Berlin, “I will hate you for the rest of my life if you do this!” He screamed.

Berlin knew that wasn’t true, it was empty threats to try and manipulate him into coming with. Bucharest never was any good at guilt tripping.

The fabric of his sleeves began to rip as the duo into the tunnel managed to pull Bucharest down, all the while he screamed and wailed.

“Let me go, let me go you whores!” He kicked at both of them, trying to maintain his grip on Berlin.

Helskini had to throw the man over his shoulder, all the while he kicked and screamed, “Jung-ho! Jung-ho please!”

His voice echoed in the tunnel as they ran off with him, the last faint cry Berlin could hear being ‘I love you’. He stared down into the tunnel for a moment more, a tear falling into the dirt below.

Bucharest’s wails and screams for Berlin rang out into the cave as Helsinki cared him into the water, having to continue to restrain him less he run off to try and save his husband.

“Where’s Berlin?” The Professor asked, the fear on his face prevalent at the sight of his brother in law in such distress.

“He’s gonna die! Please, please get them to let me go!” Bucharest wailed, his nose fed and his eyes bloodshot.

Just as the Professor was about to speak, his phone rang with Berlin on the other line. The faint sound of Berlin’s voice on the other end sent Bucharest over the edge. He reached around and jammed his fingers into Helsinki’s eyes, getting the man to drop him from the pain. Bucharest popped right back out of the water and sprinted back down the tunnel.

He didn’t have a plan to save him, he didn’t really have a plan at all. All he knew was that he needed to get to him, he needed to hold him and be with him if this really was the end of the line. Bucharest didn’t want to go on without him - he didn’t even know how to.

Just as Bucharest was about to reach the entrance, there was a loud explosion that rattled the tunnel. Bucharest stumbled as dust and debris came through the entrance.

“No, no, no,” He sobbed, gaining his footing again as he climbed back up the ladder as fast he could.

He saw Berlin lay on the floor curled up in pain. He crawled toward him, his hands shaking and his training kicking in.

“Baby, baby I’m here,” He sobbed, gently placing his hands on Berlin’s wrist to try and get a pulse.

“I told you to go.” Berlin groaned, trying to sit up.

“We- we have to go, come on can you walk,” He asked, his mind racing but he was trying so desperately to think clearly.

Berlin nodded, moving with Bucharest down the tunnel. Bucharest supported him as they moved as fast as they could but Berlin faltered and soon went down, dragging Bucharest with him. Bucharest got up rather quickly, grabbing Berlin’s arm and trying to hoist him up over his shoulder.

Bucharest wasn’t weak by any means, but all that muscle and dead weight Berlin had made him like a mountain.

“Please, Berlin, give me something baby.. if you can just get up onto my shoulder-“

“Jun..” He panted, looking up at him, “you have to go. They’ll all day at this rate, just go, okay? Leave me here.”

Bucharest fell to his knees, cupping Berlin’s face in his hands as he cried.

“Til death do us part..”

“That wasn’t real.. we were kids.. it’s not even legally binding.“ Berlin didn’t believe a word of it, their marriage though illegal and done when they were teenagers, was more real than most marriages.

The love, devotion and respect they had for each other oozed from inch of them. Even as they tried to hide it during the heist, it was clear that Berlin and Bucharest were inseparable.

“You know I’m immune to your manipulation.” Bucharest said with a sad smile, tears falling into the dirt from both of their eyes.

Berlin placed a hand on Bucharest’s cheek, “I’m so sorry I got you into this.”

“I’d do it all over again.” He rested his forehead on his, taking in their last moment together.

Boots hitting the ground echoed in their tunnel as the military breached the tunnel and the moment was broken. Berlin grabbed his gun and fired two shots, causing them to take cover behind a wall. He fired again, this time striking the bomb that they had failed to trigger.

The tunnel rattled and began to collapse as dust and debris came rushing toward them. Berlin immediately grabbed Bucharest and threw him down onto the ground, using himself as shield to try and protect him. There was silence and stillness for what felt like hours.

“Jung-ho..” Bucharest whispered, trying to move his hands to either his neck or wrist.

“I’m here..” He whispered back, moving his hand to rest on the top of his head.

“Are you.. are you okay? H-how’s your.. breathing?” He chocked out, his brain still trying to rationalize the situation and going into paramedic mode.

“I’m okay, are you okay?” He asked.

“I think.. I have a broken rib but.. yes..” He breathed.

Berlin slowly got up, helping Bucharest to his feet and they both leaned on each other for support. Slowly, they made their way through the tunnel. When they reached the exit, Berlin climbed out of the manhole first then helped Bucharest up the surface. He winced and cried a bit, the pain his rib increased by the movement. Slowly, the pair hobbled their way to the crowd of protesters and disappeared.

#berlin money heist korea #song jung-ho #park haesoo #money heist korea #money heist oc #bucharest money heist korea #fanfic

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