#I would take this over a modern day car with those big ass screens any day
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remarkablyretr0 · 8 months ago
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Nissan 300zx interior, still as futuristic as the day it was revealed
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xuyaa · 4 years ago
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Age gaps
Ahh... I dread this but I'll speak anyway. I keep seeing people have a problem with big age gap couple in fandom. Now before your nostrils all fluff up let me say this, if you can't have an open mind or too fragile for my input please take your leave. This would be wasted on you.
About age gap on fandoms couple (canon or crack) I personally have no problem as long as both parties consent (without child grooming or forced relationship aspect) and considered legal at the start of their relationship and the legality here is not referring to our modern standard but on the couple's world and time. I'll try to explain but it might get long and boring but if you're still okay, continue.
I'll give an example, during the age of samurai if the situation permits like Uesugi Kenshin they can join battle at age 13 and there are still other examples of other famous child samurai. We call it child now because time change but during that time they were considered an adult once they enter battlefield. Why? They already trained years prior to kill and to protect their lord. Example of this in anime would be Himura Kenshin from Rurouni Kenshin. His first marriage was when he's around 16 and that was an acceptable age at that era since he was considered adult at age 14. So even though I find it icky if modern day teenager marry at that age, I can understand Kenshin's situation. If I'm still okay reading about him killing people around at even younger age I'm not gonna complain about him wanting to marry (although it's not that simple white and black for him).
You get what I'm trying to say?
More example of the acceptable norms in past era. During certain era in certain place like for example Victorian England and prior, 14 year old boys and 12 year old girls are passable for marriage depends on whether the family want it or not as it's more political than anything else. Same in China for example during the Manchurian Dynasty 14 year old girl is considered adult enough for marriage. And usually the age of the husband is always older by few years up to few decades (officials and emperor). But of course over time all of the above would change. Not by much maybe? Depend on the country I say.
Still we can't just hold the old days custom and norms on our modern day standard that would be akin to the present you calling your two or three year-old self a moron for defecating and not wiping your own ass. Or like when you do something stupid at your young age (pick whatever stupid situation that you have take as a lesson. Done?). You just didn't know better back then but now you do and from your failure you learn, although it would be better if you learn from other's lesson but I say pain is an effective lesson for oneself. Would you rather have that memories of your lesson be removed or ignored? I wouldn't. I don't know if I might do the stupid thing again just to find out whether I can or not. Same as this this whole age gap, young age marriage in the past and present in some customs thing. Don't erase the fact, don't gloss it over because people have and can still learn from them. My grandma married at young age and I came to be as the result of her choice.
Have you ever seen high schooler called Robert D Jr handsome? I've seen it recently on youtube. They call him very handsome and another video talked about cool and handsome senior male models. I've scrolled through the comments and no one seems offended that these high school girls simping for male old enough to be their granddad. These girls called them daddy and commenting how hot they are and the comments either agree or saying the girls reactions are cute. Huh... reverse the situation if these old models commenting female korean idol for example and calling them cute or hot what would people think? "creepy" "pedobear" even though senior female might think the same lines, heck maybe even we think the same lines. See the double standard people use? Maybe not everyone, but the loud ones are there. They're so loud I don't even know if they're majority or minority. I have celebrity crush too when I was young and as it happen, he's my father's age and to be frank, I would not mind an older partner if said partner is compatible and emotionaly mature. My sister is 17 years younger than her husband and they turn out well because her husband is matured enough to understand her ups and downs emotion back when they're dating, even before. Are all men mature emotionally as they became older then? No, just as not all oranges is sweet. My sister is 10 years my senior but she's more bratty than I am sometimes. Is it wrong of my bro in law to be with my sis?
Oh you're just trying to defend pedophilia anywayヽ(`Д´)ノ.
No stupid, I'm trying to make you think. I don't accept pedophilia, shotacon or lolicon. My sis is old enough to be called spinster when they go out. Anyway, when you follow a certain series, try to see it from their era and custom's perspective. Some era is okay with 16 year old marrying. Some tribes in Asia allow marriage between cousins while others and the majority of the world frown upon them. That's just how they see and do things. For me as long as both side consent without pressure and not in the case of 'parents sending their child for marriage without their input' thing I'm okay to leave that alone, I'm pretty much sure we're on the same page there. I hope.
So, just as when you come to another country, you adhere to their rules and norms or you have no right to complain if they deport you out for not learning beforehand and breaking their rules. Or when you have a guest come to your home and they suddenly start demanding you to do stuff their way, you should kick them out if not slapping their face. Or if you want to be kind, explain how you do things in your home and hoping they would understand and respect it.
I'm jumping around but see what I'm trying to say? I'll get to another anime example.
In Naruto for instance, they became genin at 12 and killing people left and right. People are okay with that right? Yeah well, since it was soo popular I suppose... besides it's pretty glossed over in both manga and anime. But the same people that's okay with children killing left and right, would they be okay if suddenly the mangaka put in story about one of the chara going on seduction mission? If it's carried out well as in the chara being bamf, maybe no problem. But if things went south for the chara? I'm sure there will be outrage, especially if that's a female chara or worse if it's one of the main like Sakura. See? People hold the characters, the series and the mangaka to their own convenient double standards. Back to the age gap when shipping, I pick Naruto as example because apparently Sakura was just so shippable that people actually ship her with Kakashi and even Madara and she makes easy example. Don't ask me why she's shipped with Madara and I don't ship any of the two with Sakura. Anyway, if Sakura is mature enough to choose to kill as a teenager (and don't give me crap about Sakura never killing on screen. Their line of work involves lots of death and she's been through war) she's mature enough to decide her romantic partner even if it's suddenly Orochimaru(ㆆ_ㆆ) (did they even exist?). You can say her taste is terrible because he's an asshole but don't say it's gross cause the age difference because apparently Orochimaru can just rejuvenated to new body and be as good as a babe (I wish I could too). Anyway saying it's about age on these kind of chara is just straight up lie on people's part. Another example I can think of atm is snk. I've seen people against pairing the 104th with the veterans because of age gap. Now I'm not trying to be rude, but hear me if you please. The whole 104th are trained child soldiers and they're killing titans and even humans. You're all okay with that? If you still follow the series far enough and liking it maybe you enjoy seeing the action sequence, drama and intrigue? The fact that you still come back to the series after this long proves that you're still okay with all the gores and blood spilled with all the glorious child soldier most of all. They become soldier because of circumstances you say? I'm glad you think so too! Although I must point out, the 104th did CHOOSE to be soldiers (just as Naruto and co choose to be ninja). They could be farmers or thugs for all we know. All the soldiers in snk choose their occupation, thay all trained and decide to join the Survey Corps, in fact the only one that join reluctantly in the first place is the former thug although he continues in the end. That aside, their circumstances certainly are different than us don't they? They don't even know a car and blip exist before Marley... They must have a whole lot of different mindset and norms than ours too for a civilization whose life are about survival against titans that's 100 years behind than other civilization in their world. Ever think of that?
Seeing modern day teenage in romantic lights are indeed hard as I'm sure the majority can't even survive without their gadget and parents' money. I certainly can't at that age. Immature. Even those in their twenties and thirties are immature these days. But now when one of those child soldier who have a whole lot of different mindset and maturity level is being shipped with older chara, you're against it. Okay. Maybe it's indeed easier for you to see 15 year olds regardless of their profession to commit act of violence and even kill than to love... (does that sounds okay to you?)
...I'm not saying killing mindlessly is alright because it is NOT. But that would need a whole lot different threads and time to spare and maybe someone else can do it or already done it before me.
But here's the good thing, even when the ship starts when they grow and at the modern legal age of 18 and 19, or even far above like centuries, it's still not okay for some people to ship them. I don't mind if it's your preference and you don't go disturbing other's corner when they don't even enforce their ship as words of god and even acknowledging that 'yes, maybe it's not canon and just our bits of fun' but sometimes it got to the point of belittling those who do ship age gap couple and treat them like a criminal in need of help or wishing them death. Seriously? Yes. People are that immature.
If you don't like a ship because you think your own is better, fine. Do your thing in your corner but don't go to other people's corner just to talk shit without even knowing why they ship what they ship. Most of this ship is just in our head in the end, and even if your ship is canon it does not make you any greater in real life.
I can't think of anything else to say now, but thanks for reading with open mind. ◝(⑅•ᴗ•⑅)◜..°♡
Now before anyone waste their time typing out comments, I refer to my first paragraph. Here's some imaginary flower for you all🌷
Apparently I'm not clear enough so I fix my wording. I'm here not defending minor and old people relationship but age gap couple who happen to be aged up to acceptable age despite their profession. Here's some choco🍫
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littlestarofthewest · 4 years ago
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Title: Boss Ass Bitch | Word Count: 2645 | Rating: Explicit (18+!!!) 
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader (in this chapter)
Tags: modern AU, mechanic AU, work in progress
Chapters: [1] [2]
Your first week in your new job flies by quickly. Molly's got so much to teach you that you can't focus on anything else. Only during your breaks, you have a moment to look through the huge window that lets you watch the boys in the garage. 
Most of the time, they're busy with their work, but sometimes you can hear their laughter through the wall when they're joking with each other. Once in a while, one of them comes into the office to talk something out with Molly, but you're too busy to pay attention.
By the time week two rolls around, you feel confident to be on your own. Molly leaves her number just in case and assures you that you can always ask the boys if you have more questions. You smile and nod while thinking that you'll try to avoid that option.
Come Monday, you get to the shop almost an hour early, but you're still not the first there. The door is open, and the lights are on. When you make your way to the office, Charles comes along the corridor that leads to the boys' changing room. 
Surprise graces his face when he sees you, but then he smiles. "Good morning."
"Morning."
"You're early."
"I thought it might be a good idea to get a headstart," you say, suddenly feeling stupid. You're a grown woman, after all, you shouldn't be so nervous. "You're early yourself."
Charles shrugs. "I get up with the sun most of the time. Just can't sleep any longer."
"I wish that was me," you sigh. "I don't mind sleeping in."
"I hope you'll still have a good day."
"Thank you," you say, warmth spreading in your chest. Unlike most people, Charles sounds genuine, and you can do with the encouragement. You still smile after Charles when he walks over to the car he's working on, but then you put yourself together and disappear into your new office.
The first two hours go by quickly, and you have a good feeling about your work. So far, you know exactly what to do, and you're confident you can make it through the day without messing up. Thanks to the big window, you can see that Arthur and John arrived as well. 
You watch the boys for a bit while all three of them bend into the same car, involved in a serious discussion. Compared to your first day, they are moderately dressed for once. Charles and John both wear blue overalls, and while John's is so dirty that his one appears black, he at least closed the buttons. 
Arthur's wearing blue pants as well, with a simple gray shirt, and you're once again pissed because they can look this good without effort. With a sigh, you go back to an email you've started when the office door opens.
"Hey Molly, we need-" Arthur says while coming in but stops himself when he sees you. "Sorry, I was looking for Molly."
"She's not here today," you say, getting nervous again. "In fact, she's not coming anymore. She put me in charge."
"Oh good," Arthur says, and just like Charles, he seems pleased. "I just need the schedule, and then I'm out of your hair."
The nervous feeling wanders from your chest up into your throat. "Schedule?"
"Yeah, so we know which cars to finish first. Or the 'yeet sheet' as John likes to call it."
You remember Molly mentioning that as well, and a light turns on in your head. "Yes, of course. Molly prepared it on Friday."
You see the sheet in front of your inner eye, but then nothing. Arthur walks up to your desk, rubbing his hands. "Great, can I have it?"
"I, um, don't remember where she put it," you admit. "I can call her."
"No need, you can just print out a new one," Arthur says, rounding your desk. "I've done it a few times when Molly was busy. Let me show you."
Arthur leans over your shoulder, pointing to the folders you need while you sneak side-glances at him. You already found him attractive from afar, but up close, it's way worse. He has lovely blue eyes with sort of a golden ring in the middle, and his beard looks so soft, you have to fight the urge to rub your face against his. 
Arthur's scent doesn't help either. There are strong undertones of the garage, like motor oil and metal, but also something fresh like recently washed sheets. You take a deep breath and try to focus on what Arthur is showing you, but then he leans in even closer to read the folders' names.
"That must be it," he says, pointing to one of them.
A shiver runs down your spine when his breath ghosts over the skin on your neck, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. You wish you could turn around and bury your face in his chest but instead, you print out the file he needs, your eyes hefted to the screen.
"There you go."
"Thank you, my lady," Arthur says. He walks over to the printer and waves a little goodbye with the piece of paper before leaving you alone in your office. 
You use the next few minutes to stare blankly at your screen, trying to stomach what just happened, from Arthur casually calling you 'my lady' to you feeling like a cat in heat just because a guy stood a little too close to you.
Over the last few weeks, you've been so busy with the job change that you didn't even think to take care of yourself. Being confronted with three good looking guys every day clearly doesn't help your situation. You decide to battle your horniness the second you get home today and go back to work.
You manage to get through the rest of the week without any more hiccups, and aside from some annoying or unfriendly clients, this might just be the best job you've ever had. In the mornings, you often run into Charles, getting your first smile of the day. Then you exchange some small talk with Arthur while he's getting his caffeine fix in the break room, and John's usually the one to stay late, closing up with you.
They're all so nice that you consider yourself spoiled. Still, you deserve a treat, so you use the weekend for some intense self-care. At first, you feel a bit guilty when the boys enter your mind as you pleasure yourself, but you can't help it, and it does wonders for your body and soul.
You go back to work on Monday with a big smile on your face, and time flies by. You're not even tired when it's time to go home again. As your last act of the day, you do a little inventory check. It's your job to stock up the break room and buy necessities like toilet paper and cleaning supplies.
When you come back from the kitchen, the garage is dark. Arthur's been the last of the boys, but it seems that he went home by now, so you grab your clipboard and head for the guy's changing room to see if they need anything refilled.
You should have noticed that the lights are still on, but you're busy writing down what to buy the next day. After waltzing into the room, you look up and freeze on the spot.
Arthur is standing in front of the lockers with a towel over his head to dry his hair. The problem is that that's the only thing covering him. You stare at his naked body, your eyes roaming from his feet upward over his manhood to his bare chest, and you can't bring yourself to look away.
Swallowing a lump in your throat, you forget to hold on to your clipboard, and it clutters to the ground with an overly loud sound. Arthur comes out from under the towel, staring at you with surprise.
"Sorry, I- I didn't- I mean, I thought-" you stammer, unable to finish a single sentence. "God, I didn't mean to-"
You're still staring at Arthur until he has the sense to put the towel around his hips. Finally, you can move and get on the floor to retrieve your clipboard and a few loose pages. "I'm so sorry, I thought I was alone."
"It's fine, don't worry about it," Arthur says, his voice calm.
While you can feel your face grow hot, Arthur doesn't sound embarrassed at all. You put the pages back into the clipboard and dare to look at him again. In hindsight, you shouldn't have done that. The towel is barely covering Arthur, so you still have an excellent view of his body. You can't help but take it in, and when your eyes meet Arthur's, there's something challenging in them.
"Do you want to come over here?" 
You know you should turn and run, but Arthur's voice lures you in as if he was a well-built siren. Your feet take you the few steps over to him all on their own, and you're enveloped by Arthur's fresh scent. He takes the clipboard and places it on a bench next to you before reaching for your face.
Arthur lifts up your chin, and when you look at him, there's still the fire in his eyes, but he's smiling. "Hey," he says, and you feel calmer somehow.
You manage a shaky "hey" as well, and Arthur's fingers trail along your face before cupping your cheek. 
"Mind if I kiss you?"
You can't remember anybody asking you this before, and your brain has a hard time coming up with an answer. After all, Arthur's right there, still built like a demigod and still deliciously naked.
"I- um, I wouldn't mind," you say, still wondering why he would even want to.
Before you can think of a reason, Arthur already leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He keeps teasing you, but when you're still frozen on the spot, he retreats.
"I'm not trying to pressure-" Arthur starts, but your mind finally catches up.
You throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for another kiss. Since you're way less gentle than him, Arthur matches your eagerness, his tongue rubbing hot against your own. 
Despite your little fun sessions at home, you still feel charged with sexual energy, and you can't help but grind against Arthur with your whole body. He takes to kissing along your neck, and his hands wander to your breasts.
"Have to admit that I've been thinking about this," he says as his fingers rub your nipples through the fabric of your top. "Those blouses and the damn skirts."
You just tried to look professional, so it's quite a nice piece of information that your get up railed Arthur up just as much as his clothes bothered you. 
"Take them off then," you say, growing bolder. This is already happening, so you might as well go the distance.
Arthur growls as he fumbles with the buttons of your shirt, and the second he gets them all open, he pushes down the fabric of your bra to expose your naked skin. Kissing down your body, Arthur sits down on the bench, pushing up your skirt next.
When he caresses your thighs, you eagerly spread your legs, and Arthur pulls down your underwear before his face takes its place. You let out a little squeal when his tongue touches you, but he keeps going, and you hold on to his shoulder to keep yourself upright.
Arousal pools between your legs and you just know you're going to paint Arthur's face with your juices if he keeps going like that. Digging your fingers into Arthur's hair, you can't help but rub yourself against him, eager to get as much friction as possible.
Arthur keeps licking you with slow, hot strokes of his tongue while his hands wander upwards until he can touch your breasts. Your nipples grow hard in the cold air, and he keeps teasing them until you can't take it anymore.
You hold Arthur in place, your thighs shaking as you come, and his moans are just as bad as yours. Usually, you'd be quite satisfied now, but you can only think about wanting more.
After releasing Arthur from your iron grip, you pull the towel away and climb on Arthur's lap. While kissing, you reach for his cock, making him groan against your lips. You've never done anything like this before, but now you can only think about riding Arthur until you forget your own name.
You take position over Arthur and carefully lower yourself onto him until he's fully sheeted inside you.
"Jesus Christ, you're tight," Arthur groans, his fingers digging into your hips.
As slowly as you can, you move up again, making Arthur curse. It feels just as good for you, the constant rub bringing even more heat, and you put your arms around Arthur's neck so you can ride him properly.
He's holding on to your hips, doing his fair share to lift you up, but he gets distracted and nibbles and licks wherever he can reach you. You wish it wouldn't turn you on that much, since you're usually not one for one night stands or sex in weird places.
Although it's late, you can't shake the idea that Charles or John could come back. Even worse, what if Dutch showed up? You roll your hips for more friction and deliberately clench your muscles around Arthur.
"Goddamn, girl," Arthur growls, "don't do that."
Arthur holds you in place when you don't stop, pushing into you with a few sharp thrusts. He moans with his head buried against your neck, his whole body going rigid when he comes.
You hold still to give him a moment, not ready for him suddenly lifting you up so he can put you down on the bench next to him.
Arthur dives between your legs, his beard scratching your thighs as he licks you again. All you can do is hold on to the bench, skitting towards bliss without a break. You arch your back when you hit your breaking point, and Arthur lets you rut against him until you're completely satisfied.
All you can do now is stare up at the ceiling and catch your breath. Arthur cleans himself up with his towel before running a warm hand along your thigh.
"I'll be right back," he says, and soon he offers you some tissues to get yourself cleaned up as well. When you sit up, Arthur watches you intently. "You alright?"
"I was supposed to do some inventory for the order tomorrow."
"That's what you're thinking about?" Arthur huffs.
"I'm sorry, I'm just so used to planning everything," you explain. "This is not how I imagined my evening."
"Me neither. It's bad enough that you're distracting me during work. I didn't think it would happen after."
You wish you could say something to that, but you get so flustered that you focus on putting your clothes in order instead. 
"Don't worry about the order," Arthur says, "I know what we need; I can just tell you."
"That would be great," you say, picking up your clipboard, but before you take any notes, you look Arthur over. "Maybe you should get dressed first."
"Why?"
"It's distracting."
Arthur leans back with a smile, giving you an even better view. "Really?"
You lean in to give him a kiss, right before clutching the clipboard to his chest. "That list better be on my desk tomorrow at 9am."
"Yes, ma'am," Arthur says, but he doesn't move, so you turn tail and run.
If you stay, chances are you're going to eat your dinner off of him.
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xyliane · 4 years ago
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AUgust 7: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS 12 YEAR OLD
PROMPT THE SEVENTH: CHILDHOOD FRIENDS wait how can you childhood friends au killugon, I asked myself, forgetting that I had a whole-ass idea in my drafts already. this one’s a proper fic, too (minus editing cuz l o l it’s an AU writing challenge, not editing challenge). T, aged-up killugon, modern day au. ft ambiguous descriptions of social media, alluka, kalluto, and leorio in killua’s corner, and zushi and spinner in gon’s, brief discussion of getting plastered and dealing with a hangover. 5000 words.
0o0o0o0o0
The first sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when Killua wakes up with a hangover.
This does not happen. Killua can count on one hand the number of times he’s gotten so drunk he’s had a hangover, and most of them are the fault of his little siblings. Little siblings who are now living together, whose couch he is currently painfully existing upon, half too hot and his toes way too cold. And the couch is too soft, an old secondhand thing he’d helped Alluka grapple up the stairs months ago after they found it outside an old dorm. He makes a notch in his very sore brain to blame the current situation on them. Kalluto might be kind enough to let a drunk big brother crash with them, but Alluka has a devious streak a mile wide.
Yeah. This is definitely their fault.
One eye slowly creaks open, surveying his surroundings through blurry vision. Nothing out of the ordinary here. He’s in the pajamas he’s left with Alluka forever ago, curled up under an old blanket he gave her for Nanika’s birthday. It’s covered in the Matrix code, all green letters on black wool. It barely covers him from chest to knees, which explains the cold toes.
Sunlight flickers through the curtains, cheerful and bright, and Killua pulls the blanket over his face. He’ll take cold toes over being blinded by his headache.
The second sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when a noise like a chainsaw burrowing through a marshmallow erupts from his phone buzzing on the coffee table, just barely out of reach.
Killua attempts to bury himself under the blanket. He’s not dealing with work today.
And then he remembers: He doesn’t have work. Work can’t bother him today. Not just because it’s a weekend—work never respected the sanctity of weekends, no matter that he was at least partially in charge and used to have a fancy degree hanging on his wall. He doesn’t have work anymore. Killua quit.
Which, well. That explains the hangover.
He’s still blaming his siblings.
His phone buzzes loud enough to break the sound barrier, and Killua decides, fuck it. He doesn’t have anything to lose. If it’s the-place-formerly-known-as-work, he can delete everything. If it’s Mom or Father, he can definitely delete everything. And maybe it’s a friendly person, congratulating him on giving up a job that for anyone else would have been an absolute money-making dream. He’ll delete those too.
It takes a few tries to unlock his phone, and it unfortunately involves opening his eyes, squinting against the glaring light of the screen. But once he does, he frowns. Maybe he’s seeing double. Or a hundredfold. Because he should not have this many notifications.
awwww cute, i hope u 2 find each other! the top one says. It has several hundred likes. Why is it in his notifications?
Scrolling down reveals that it’s not an anomaly.
wtf man how can you find a TWELVE YEAR OLD from FIFTEEN YEARS AGO.
Me and my mom went on a cruise around there once, it was really pretty!
this is so sweet T__T maybe this is him?
And then another hundred photos of brown-skinned men with varying degrees of shirt-wearing, all black haired and most of them buff in very appealing ways and all of them beaming at Killua.
“What the fuck,” Killua croaks as he scrolls through all of the images and messages. Maybe this is a dream. A really weird, hangover-induced dream about how little of a social life he has, that his phone is possessed by someone else’s. A warning of sorts, that he should never have installed any social media on his phone ever, not even for hookups.
The reason for all the notifications lies at the top of his own page. Just a few sentences, all-caps, with an image of an old crinkled photo of two boys on a tropical beach, grinning at the camera. Killua sees himself, white curly hair flying in all directions and pale skin sunburned and ruddy with the briny wind, happier than Killua can ever remember being. Next to him, one arm slung around his shoulders and the other holding a bucket full of seashells, is a brown-skinned boy with freckles dancing across his nose and the tops of his shoulders, brown eyes wide and laughing and black hair thick and spiked from some mix of wind and seawater and natural gravity defiance.
He didn’t know he still had this photo. It had followed him from childhood all the way through grad school, a carefully guarded keepsake hidden away from the watchful eyes of his parents and Illumi, before ending up in a box or a bag at some point in the last few years. Part of Killua thought he’d lost it in the move. He barely remembers much about being twelve, about the cruise he’d been forcibly dragged on. But he remembers…
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY? yells the caption. WE WERE BEST FRIENDS FOR A WEEK WHEN I GOT DRAGGED ON A CRUISE BY MY ASSHOLE PARENTS. HE WAS 12 ON WHALE ISLAND 15 YEARS AGO. IF FOUND, DM IMMEDIATELY.
“Gon,” Killua breathes.
He gathers himself, wrapping the blanket around his head in a feeble protection against the morning, and lurches over to Alluka’s room.
He gets to bang on her door three times, confused spite winning out over his own pounding headache, before Kalluto appears out of their room, blinking blearily at Killua. “Shut up.”
Killua kicks Alluka’s door for good measure, and brandishes his phone in front of him like a weapon. “Not until you explain what the hell this is doing on the internet.”
Kalluto pales, then flushes, then pales again. “Oh. Um.”
At that, Alluka creaks her door open, guilty blue eyes far too awake for how close to noon it is. Killua kind of wants to kill her on principle alone. If he has to be hungover, so does everyone else.
“Explain,” he grinds out through his teeth.
The third and final sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when Alluka puts on her most winning smile, the kind she uses to ward off angry customers and idiotic faux-academics on the internet. “Congratulations, Brother! I might have made you go viral.”
Killua throws his phone at her.
—————
Today’s going to be a good day, Gon decides. He’s been in the forests of East Gorteau for the better part of a month, which normally isn’t so bad. But this group has been…They’re nice enough, when Gon’s not spending half of his time explaining that, no, that species of plant does not make a good stew, and no, that species is endangered please don’t hunt them, and yes Gon is sure he doesn’t date his clients even after the hike, and no the reason the tent fell over again is because it wasn’t properly set up in the first place—
All of Aunt Mito’s complaints about tourists on Whale Island make so much more sense, now that Gon’s leading backwoods hikes.
But last night had been fun! Spinner had met the group at a pre-set campsite not far from their pickup so Gon hadn’t had to work the whole night, and he could relax with his friend over good food, more alcohol than he probably should have drunk, and not having to explain to Mrs. Yuldvin the difference between marijuana, buckeye, and poison oak again. Spinner had even taken care of the fire, although she had left him to rescue the Podomos siblings from the ruins of their tent with nothing more than a smirk and a wave. Nevertheless, Gon smiled through his headache all morning, because soon he’ll be home, and he can sleep.
Zushi is waiting in the parking lot once Gon’s done packing up the last of the gear and saying goodbye to Spinner, jeep idling while he flicks through his phone, thick eyebrows drawn together in increasing concern. He doesn’t even look up until Gon drops his pack onto the hood of the car, and he jolts so badly in surprise that he tosses his phone in the air.
“Are you okay?” Gon asks, and tries to peek at the screen.
Zushi pulls it up and away, a frantic look in his eyes. It won’t really keep Gon from seeing what’s happening, not if he wants to, but Zushi’s height is enough of a deterrent to make it hard. “You were gone way too long,” he says.
Gon leans against the hot metal of Zushi’s car. It wasn’t an unusual length for a trip, not really—this backcountry needs the length to be able to see and understand the region. Not to mention the Small Billed Swan preservation society keeping the whole place locked down except to authorized guides and trekkers. Zushi knows this. They’ve been roommates long enough that this isn’t even the longest time Gon’s been gone.
“You knew I’d be gone til today,” Gon says.
“Yeah, but…” Zushi’s eyebrows descend even further, scrunching his whole face up in worry. “You haven’t checked your phone, right?”
“No?” Even if he did have cell service, Gon never brings his own phone. He borrows Kite’s satellite phone, because it is more reliable and doesn’t need to be charged constantly.
“Okay. Well.” Zushi takes a deep breath, then another, one of Wing’s old meditation techniques. Despite his exhaustion and single-minded determination to sink into a real bed and sleep for a week, Gon feels a minor pang of worry. On breath three, he unlocks his phone and turns it towards Gon. “You’re a meme.”
On Zushi’s screen is a photo Gon can’t ever forget about. Backed by Whale Island’s sunbleached white beaches and the humid brilliant colors of summer, Gon sees himself—twelve, smiling from ear to ear, hair a mess from swimming and his shirt practically covered in sand from digging up all the seashells in his bucket. He’s got an arm around another boy, who’s caught mid-laugh so his blue eyes burn the same color as the sky, white curls even messier than Gon’s hair. They look like they’ve known each other their whole lives, like they’d still be best friends even if they haven’t seen or spoken to each other since the photo was taken.
Gon hopes Killua thinks so, too.
He cradles the phone in his hand, carefully zooming in on their faces and the errant crinkles visible through the photo. His own faded copy is in a drawer, having survived a whole trip around the world and countless apartment jumps. This one looks just as well cared for, in its own way.
“That…is you, right?” Zushi asks carefully. “Because Wing was asking, and half of Kite’s guide company is yelling about it on your social media page that you don’t even use, and now people are messaging me, and they’re saying the weirdest things, and the post is from last week, so—”
“It’s Killua,” Gon says. A smile spreads across his face, a mirror to the one he’d had when he was twelve. “That’s Killua!”
“Who?” the others ask, but Gon isn’t listening.
He spins, frantically searching his pockets for his phone. “Spinner, can you do me a favor?”
She narrows her eyes suspiciously.
Gon knew today was going to be a good day.
—————
It’s been a week, and Killua has quit all social media forever.
The steady buzz of his phone informing the apartment of his notifications is not his problem. Alluka’s the one who decided to hack into his phone and post something to his old public account, the one he mostly uses for photos of cats and complaining about terrible business precedents. He hasn’t posted much since school, and if anything, it should have simply vanished into the void of the internet.
He finds the culprit fairly quickly, and for once it’s not his sister’s moderate but dedicated video following.
“Old man, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Leorio lounges in Alluka and Kalluto’s living room, freshly out of his scrubs and looking pleased as all hell. “I just reblogged a fun post from my friend,” he says somewhat defensively. “You were a cute kid, Killua. What happened?”
Killua feels a growl creep up his throat. “You can’t just do that,” he snaps.
“It’s not my fault the people like my well-coiffed but rugged appearance and dedication to social justice in medicine.”
“You have 500,000 followers because you made a joke post two years ago, and some authorized user reblogged it five times. It has nothing to do with your ugly mug.” If Killua squints and plugs his ears, he can even see why people think Leorio’s attractive or whatever: tan skin, lean but strong as hell, actually takes care of his hair, not to mention a damn good doctor with one of the most prestigious institutions in Yorknew who spends most of his free time running health clinics in impoverished neighborhoods. That’s all swell. But then he starts talking, and Killua has no idea where the off button is.
Leorio spreads a hand out, gesturing vaguely with the glass of iced tea that he’d helped himself to out of Alluka’s stash. “It has everything to do with my ‘ugly mug,’” he says. “Which is why I used my powers for good and spread your post. Don’t you want to find him?”
“Not like this!”
“You were not going to find him at all,” Kalluto’s quiet voice pipes up from the kitchen. They have night classes tonight, but Killua has a feeling that even if they were supposed to be attending their Yorknew Uni lectures, they would still be here making Killua’s life worse. “You’ve had that picture for years, and you did not even try to look.”
Leorio gives him a judgmental look over the tops of his stupid tiny glasses. “You haven’t?”
It would be a losing game to bury his burning face in one of the throw pillows, so Killua does his best to cross his arms over his chest and glower instead. “I…tried.”
“And?”
“I don’t even know his last name!” Killua splutters. “I didn’t have his number or where he was from, other than his mom worked on the ship. And that cruiseline went bankrupt and liquidated everything before I could get out of the house, so I couldn’t even look that up.”
Kalluto crosses over from the kitchen and perches like a sweatshirt-wearing crow on the coffee table, their blue eyes carefully neutral under straight black bangs. “Alluka and Nanika would have helped. Or even Milluki, if you had explained the situation.”
“I was eighteen, okay? I just left home, and our parents were still being…shit, themselves, I guess.” He hadn’t even considered asking for help. Then again, he’d tried the moment he could, that first summer of undergrad where he didn’t have to come home and Illumi couldn’t spend half his time breathing down the back of Killua’s neck. He had a general idea of where they’d gone, maps of islands scurried away in the closet with the old photo and a bag full of seashells Gon had given him as a going-away present.
They’d been friends for a week, in the whirlwind way that only kids can be. The cruise ship was massive, and Killua’s parents were in meetings half the time and playing nice with the other rich people on board the other half. Killua had been bored witless, and Gon was everything he couldn’t have possibly imagined: encouraging Killua to go exploring, to stealing food from the kitchens, making him help clean up the decks, playing cards with the deckhands. Sneaking off the boat to visit an island without Killua’s parents while the ship was docked, scrambling over the burning hot sands and dashing through the jungle, diving into the waves fully clothed and competing to see who could find the biggest prettiest shells. Gon’d been Killua’s first friend, his first crush, his first…a lot of firsts.
Then the cruise had ended, and Killua forgot to give Gon his phone number. His address. Anything. They’d been so swept up in being friends, being best friends, it had seemed impossible that they would never see each other again.
Does Gon even remember? Why should he, when Killua hasn’t contacted him? Would they even be friends anymore?
Maybe he hadn’t searched hard enough. But part of Killua thinks he shouldn’t have tried at all.
The phone buzzes loudly, and Killua tries not to flinch.
“Hey, Killua. It’s okay.” Leorio leans forward, hands clasped over his too-long limbs and expression gentle. “If you want me to delete it, I will. Not sure I can help with the viral part of things, except maybe go through your messages and delete the gross ones, or at least find the weirdest ones for you to laugh at later.”
“Alluka and I have been doing this already,” Kalluto says, their posture a little too protective for Killua’s raw nerves at this point. “But perhaps you have some suggestions for what to do next, Dr. Paladiknight?”
Leorio smiles sympathetically. “Don’t read the comments? That said, most of your comments have been much more positive than anything I usually post. The masses seem to be genuinely rooting for you, kid.”
“I have only had to delete a dozen lewd messages for you this morning,” Kalluto adds, not mentioning the hundred or so that Alluka took care of yesterday.
Killua’s traitorous phone buzzes again, and that’s it. Time to bury himself in a pillow. Killua flops onto the couch, narrowly missing Leorio, and does his best to burrow into the cushions. “That’s just great,” he says into the fabric.
A comforting hand rubs against his hair, messing up the curls for a moment, and Killua refuses to admit that it’s nice, that he has friends like Leorio who even bother to care. “It could be worse. You could be dealing with this while still working a soul-sucking job making more money than most of us will see in our lifetimes, in exchange for giving up all of your morals.”
Killua groans loudly. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“You’re gonna need to do something, Killua! And hey, I might be able to set something up with my—”
“I already told you, no.”
“But it’s what you’re good at. And you wouldn’t be fucking people over to do it.”
“No.”
“Just listen for one—”
Killua lifts his head enough to glare as murderously as he can at Leorio. It must work at least a little, because the doctor shuts up.
Meanwhile, Kalluto is scrolling through Killua’s phone, poking at the screen occasionally. In the awkward silence, their sharp gasp is loud enough to shatter a window, and they hurriedly shove the phone in the pocket of their oversized sweatshirt.
Leorio raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”
Kalluto squeezes their eyes shut for a moment, then carefully places the phone on the coffee table, screen pointed innocently at the ceiling. “You will want to look at this one, Brother.”
“This isn’t another erotic sandcastle is it?” he says.
Kalluto shakes their head, and Killua’s stomach lurches up his throat. Alluka has been the one excited about this whole thing. But Kalluto, as reserved as they are, is a massive romantic. The whole thing might be Alluka’s fault, but Killua knows it’s Kalluto who almost lets themselves believe it’ll work. Despite all of the false positives, the people who send messages that don’t sound right or photos that have the wrong smile.
Killua doesn’t want to hope. It can’t possibly be Gon. But his hands shake nonetheless as he unlocks his phone and finds a new message in his DMs.
It’s not from Gon.
Instead, someone with the icon of a small-billed white swan in a soft small-billed hat and a handle of @flymypretties has sent a photo of a brown-skinned man with spiky black hair absolutely covered in dirt and grime. He’s waving at the camera, a backpacking bag propped against his shoulder and the widest smile Killua has ever seen beaming straight through the screen and into his chest. Next to him and half out of frame, a tall tanned man with massive black eyebrows and a tank top showing off an impressive amount of muscle has his head in his hands. Killua feels a sharp stab of sympathy, somewhere buried beneath the racing of his heart.
look im sorry about this but this idiot can’t find his phone and we r kind of in the middle of nowhere so reception’s shit. he wants to know if you admit he found the biggest seashell on the beach, whatever that means.
For a long, long moment—seconds? minutes maybe?—Killua can do nothing but stare at the screen of his phone. Leorio and Kalluto both look at him with a mix of curiosity and worry, Kalluto starting to slowly reach for the phone.
In a completely childish protective moment, Killua grabs it against his chest, like the image will vanish if he doesn’t keep it close.
“Is it…?” Leorio asks.
Killua swallows heavily, trying to think around the roaring of the ocean in his ears. “I think so,” he says faintly.
Kalluto’s eyes widen, and they spin on their heels towards their room. “I’m calling Alluka!”
—————
“Has he responded?”
“No!”
“…what about now?”
Spinner throws her hands in the air so violently that her hat falls off. “For god’s sake, Gon, it’s been an hour, you don’t even have your phone, and you still need to go home.”
Gon huffs and pouts. They’re still in the parking lot over an hour after the rest of the trekking group has left, and all the exhaustion that had settled into Gon’s body from the tour has been turned into a jittery energy that keeps trying to leak out from under his skin. He wants to go home immediately and dig out his copy of the photo, rub out the old fingerprints he and Aunt Mito have left on it over the years. He wants to find his phone and message Killua directly. He wants to wait right here until Killua responds, no matter how long it takes.
He knows it’s childish, to be this selfish. Spinner has work to do, work that she already put on hold to help with the last day of the tour. Kite probably will want to know what’s happening, or at least why his lead guide and his chief guide organizer have been stuck in a parking lot. And Gon can practically feel Zushi’s obsessive scrolling through social media, frantically trying to navigate Gon’s feeds without actually having access.
Gon needs to find his phone.
“Spinner, what if—”
It’s not that Spinner’s a large woman. Out of the three people standing in the parking lot, Zushi’s far and away the strongest, even if he is about as threatening as a large, muscular teddy bear. And Gon has only packed on weight and muscle over his years of backpacking around the wilderness, no matter that he’s not super tall. But Spinner goes for longer, harder treks on her own than anyone but Kite, and she packs in her own climbing gear on top of that, so when she tosses Gon into the back of Zushi’s jeep, he flies.
“Zushi,” she says in a low exhausted snarl, and he jumps right off the hood of his car. Gon probably would have felt bad for him, if everything wasn’t spinning. “If you do not take your roommate home, I am not responsible for the consequences.”
“What if you hear back?” Gon groans around the aches in his side.
Spinner rolls her eyes, and Gon knows she’s just tired. “I’ll let you know.”
“But what if my phone’s gone? What will I do if someone stole it, or if I can’t—”
“I’ll call you go home already,” she says, and slams the door shut on his face.
For a long moment, the only sound is Spinner storming away, boots thudding heavily in the dirt until her car door slams.
The jeep shifts slightly as Zushi quietly lowers himself into the driver’s seat and puts the key into the ignition. Gon wants to tell him to follow Spinner, so she can yell out the window as soon as Killua gets back to her. But Zushi looks about ready to bolt. So Gon slumps back in the seat, the rumble of tires crunching through gravel making his already jittery nerves shake.
A small voice that sounds a lot like Kite tells Gon that it’s better to wait, that it will be easier to have a conversation and determine if this really is Killua after a rest and a shower.
Gon doesn’t want that, though. He wants…
It’s been a long time since he was on Whale Island. Longer still since he saw Killua. That doesn’t mean he stopped thinking about either of them, during the quiet moments out under the stars. They’re part of him, like his lungs are part of him—essential and irreplaceable, buried so far inside that removing them would change him irrevocably.
What is Killua like now? Is Gon just as important to him as he is to Gon? He has to be. Right?
They make it home without saying anything else. Gon floats in and out between bone-deep weariness and electric sparks of nervous joy, and Zushi flinches every time Gon jolts himself from one to the other.
“Hey, are you…I mean, maybe not okay, but.”
Gon lifts his chin up sharply at the sound of his roommate’s voice, and notices the familiar apartment complex in front of him. Oh, they’re home. “I’m good,” he says, and grins.
“Sure,” Zushi says like he doesn’t believe Gon.
A dubious silence stretches out between them as they gather the rest of the gear, dropping it in a heap on the sidewalk. “You were kids, though,” Zushi finally says.
Gon shrugs and slams the door shut hard enough to make the vehicle rattle. “I didn’t forget. So I don’t think Killua would, either.”
Zushi’s eyebrows wrinkle on each other, like they can’t decide whether to go up or down and settle on some combination of the two. “What if he did?”
“He didn’t,” Gon says, more sure of that than anything else in his life.
Zushi’s eyebrows dance again, but he doesn’t say anything else.
Between Gon’s camping gear and Zushi’s leftover practice pads, it takes longer than Gon’s excitement can take to get everything settled enough to look for his phone. Well, Gon would have liked to look for his phone, but Zushi makes a pointed look at the shower. There are only so many places the phone could be in the whole apartment, after all.
Gon’s just drying off when Zushi knocks on the door. “I found it, but it’s dead,” he says, voice muffled.
“Then charge it!” Gon shouts. After a moment, he adds, quieter and less snappishly, “Please?”
A faint laugh echoes through the apartment.
By the time Gon can make himself a very early dinner of whatever he could grab out of the cabinets without thinking, the phone is charged enough to turn on. Sure enough, there are a wide variety of messages, mostly from Kite’s groupchat asking about the viral post. A few are from former hikers, people who Gon liked enough to share contact info, offering to see if they can get in touch. There are even a few—okay, how did they get ahold of his old social media page? It’s practically defunct, since Gon’s never had a phone capable of more than the most basic apps. And those are…
It’s flattering in a way, but Gon’s not really into that. Or them.
Zushi catches sight of the grimace, and takes one look over Gon’s shoulder before turning beet red.
By the time he’s gone through and deleted the vast majority of what had been filling up his phone, there’s still no message from Spinner, and nothing at all from Killua. Gon sighs and lies his head down on the table with a heavy thunk.
The other chair scrapes heavily along the tiles as Zushi sits, a mug of coffee in his hands. “What will you do? When he messages you, I mean.”
When, not if, an unexpected certainty coming from Zushi. Gon has the best friends in the world. “Talk to him,” Gon says. “It’s only been fifteen years, right? We promised we’d be friends forever.”
“A lot changes in fifteen years,” Zushi says.
“Not that.”
“Then why didn’t you look for him?”
Gon frowns. It had taken a long, long time, but Aunt Mito managed to track down the cruise captain the last time they were in port, tracing through old charters until the right names came up. But when she’d called them up, she’d been met with stonewall after stonewall, pleasant-sounding voices insisting in no uncertain terms that she would never speak with a member of Killua’s family, let alone let her son speak to his friend. By the time Gon was old enough to look himself, he found nothing but a mansion full of people whose eyes matched Killua’s in everything except for his warmth, who refused to even acknowledge Gon’s presence except to throw him out.
That had been years ago. It’s not that Gon stopped looking. Not exactly.
“I did, but I—” Gon starts to say, but his phone buzzes violently against the table, and they both jump out of their chairs.
“Is it—?” Zushi asks, breath in his throat.
It’s a message from Spinner. you owe me big time, kid, she says, followed by a phone number.
Gon rips his phone off the cable, a wide smile spreading across his face. “It is,” he says, and dials Killua.
—————
bzz bzz—
bzz bzz—
bzz b—
“H-hello?”
“Killua! Hi!”
“…Gon? Is that—It’s really…?”
“Killua, it’s you, I thought I’d never—”
“I did find the biggest seashell, and you know it.”
A breath, sharp and astonished. “The blue and white one, with green lines.”
“I found it, and I gave it to you.”
“I still have it.”
A snort of amusement, slightly damp. “I know. You promised you’d keep it.”
“I did. And I promised—”
“That we’d be friends forever.”
A laugh, delighted and teary at the same time. “I knew you remembered.”
“I did promise you that I would.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
(AUgust prompts)
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obi-wan-kanbonemi · 4 years ago
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Ruin My Career
Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader Spy/Modern AU
I’m not really proud of this one, but oh well, there’s always room for improvement and there’s always gonna be off days
sorry for typoes
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Keep your eyes on the rode Kenobi....,” You spoke out as you clutched the bottom of your long, black gown that glittered ever so slightly from the passing cars on the opposite side of the rode. Rolling it up on your upper thigh, you began to strap down a harness, hands expertly grabbing your gun and loading the magazine in it and placing it on safety before harnessing it, dress being pushed back down.
“Looking at your legs is the last thing on my mind...” Obi Wan spoke out with a little wink as he reached down to grab his own gun, it disappearing within the jacket of the smart suit that was tailored perfectly for his body, but upon that thought you only blushed and looked away from the body of Obi Wan Kenobi.
You would have to complain to your agency once this shit show was over and done with. The Mandalore Agency was who your worked for, filled with the most toughest women spies internationally. It would forever be your home, your family. Obi Wan on the other hand resided with the Coruscant Agency and that agency seemed like an entirely different world than your own.
“Don’t try to fall in love with me, it being against your code and all. I don’t want to be the naughty one that ruins your whole career....,” You whipped back with a playful pout, earning a roll of the eyes from the man beside you who finally began to slow down before the gigantic mansion where already party goers were slinking through the front door. “Alright, the information is on the fifth floor, down the hall and to the right, try not to set off the alarm at the door, once in break into the computer and download anything thats on there, we can look through it later. I’ll guide you through any hiccups through our earpieces, Anakin should also be on the same frequency too and has the whole layout of the building memorized as well,” You explained quickly as the valet stepped forward opening your door and helping you out, Obi Wan tossing the keys to him before offering his arm to you.
“Yes, I know, and then electronically send it to Anakin back at base” Obi Wan whispered into your ear as he led you up the grand staircase, his hushed voice sending a shiver down your spine. You wished you could have done this all on your own, but with your agency and his having to always manage to work closely together, you were always stuck working with the handsome man beside you. Once inside with the many lights and the chandeliers washing their light upon you, he couldn’t help but let his eyes give a quick scan of you before looking ahead “And might I add that you are absolutely stunning?” He said with a slight smirk on his face, gaining a scoff from you.
“Guys, can you two stop flirting and save that for later? I got a movie to catch or my ass is grass,” Came in the voice of Anakin through the earpieces, earning suppressed laughter from you and Obi Wan.
“I’m going to to the bar for a drink...,” You spoke to Obi Wan, already sashaying your way to perch yourself at the bar, Obi Wan taking that as his cue to sneak through the party goers and to the empty staircase, already making the dreadful ascension up.
“Can I buy you another drink, beautiful?” Came out a voice beside you. You letting out a few curses in your head, you slowly turned toward the older gentleman that had to choose to bother you out of all the women lounging about in the grand ballroom.
“Uh, be careful, that's the guy we really don’t want to catch on to what's fucking going on...” Anakin spoke through the earpiece nervously, Obi Wan panting slightly as he still hurried up the stairs. “He’s the guy our agencies are getting fed up with,” Anakin explained quickly.
“Oh, so it's fine when a sleazeball calls you beautiful and not me?” Obi Wan sighs in relief as he finally stood before the correct door, his hands already gloved and whipping out tools to begin dissembling the security system on the door. Though the man couldn’t help but look from side to side and behind him in a paranoid manor as he tried to silently bust into the room, a thin layer of sweat already appearing upon his brow.
“Obi Wan, that is not what we should be worrying about, now be careful not to trigger that alarm. Don’t drink any of that stuff he got you,” Anakin ordered, but all you could do was listen to their bickering and commotion as you thanked the man for the drink as he handed it to you, you slowly bringing it up to your lips and faking a sip as Anakin instructed, lipstick staining the rim of the glass.
“Alright, I’m in...” Obi Wan announced quitely as he slowly stepped into the empty room before making his way up to the computer, gloved hands wiping the sweat upon his brow. Sitting in the chair that sat before it, his fingers were already quick at working at the keyboard, bypassing the system and already beginning to download and transfer the information and send it to Anakin. “Just a few more files and we are out of here” Obi Wan spoke out, whipping a few nervous looks over his shoulder and past the doorway and to the empty hallway. “Got it” he said with a sigh of reief, already silently moving out and onto the hallway to make his way back down the stairs.
“Hey you! Stop right there!” shouted voices at Obi Wan, which in return his gun was whipped out, leaving the three individuals dead before him. “Um, guys, we got to go...” Obi Wan yelled into the earpiece as he was already racing down the stairs, heavy footsteps and gun fire following closely behind him.
“I’m sorry, but I got to go, maybe I’ll catch you around...” You spoke out as you lifted yourself slowly from your seat, offering a flirty smile to the individual, but instantly ducked for cover once the other whipped out a gun. “Shit, Obi Wan! Hurry up!” you shouted, the party goers screaming as many bullets were pelted in your direction.
Obi wan on the other hand finally reached the room that you were located in, finally spotting you and sliding to where you were positioned at, already peeking over the bar that the two of you hid behind, shooting the foes that were after you. “Well hello there!” He said with a grin upon his face as he settled back down next to you to avoid the rapid fire of bullets that were now being shot at you.
“Guys, I’m programming the car on a route behind you, just jump through those big windows in the back” Anakin instructed, frantic clicking being heard as he spoke, possibly from him frantically typing away at his computers.
“You ready?” you asked, fear and nervousness evident on your face.
“Darling, I’m always ready!” Obi Wan said as he grabbed ahold of your hand, sprinting with you to the huge glass windows that Anakin instructed you to exit through, bullet shattering the glass and the both of you jumping out and falling to the grass below, trusted car rumbling with its engine on. Hurriedly the two of your hopped in, car automatically speeding off as the two of you caught your breath, looking at each other before cheering and hollering, arms falling around each other and soon finding each other in a heated kiss, hands clutching onto each other and roaming through each other’s hair.
“Guys...can you two not? I’m young and impressionable....” Anakin spoke up, face now appearing on the screen at the car’s radio, you and Obi Wan laughing as the two of you pulled away, pulling out your earpieces and turning them off. The poor boy, stationed up in his room covered in many movie and band posters and possibly sitting there in his pajamas having to help and sit through those two spy’s make out session. You would have to remember how a teenager was even allowed to work for Obi Wan’s agency, but right now you were too intoxicated by the handsome man at your side and the way his lips were just passionatelyon yours earlier.
“Anakin, go get your teenage ass on that date you had” You spoke with a laugh, cutting off his next sentence as you switched him off.
“Now come here and ruin my career, my sweet,” Hummed Obi Wan, earning a smirk from you as he now had control of the car, you smirking as you now pressed your lips to his neck. It wasn’t long until that very car pulled over onto the side of the back road it was on, the occupants preoccupied.
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is0gild · 4 years ago
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Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 15
Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC
Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.
Word Count: 10,487
FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER
Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!
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So... last time on The Burning Wreckage That Is My Life (please excuse the working title).
I had a crush on a guy. Well, maybe… I mean, I think I did? But I couldn't let him know that I had a crush on him. And just to make things extra complicated, I now had to act like we were dating when we really weren't. So basically… I like-liked him but had to pretend that I didn't like-like him while at the same time pretending that I did like-like him.
Confused yet? I know I was.
Also, I really needed to stop using the word like-like.
Ugh, what had I been thinking? This was a terrible plan. A disaster just waiting to happen. There was no possible way it could end well. And yet, here I sat in my apartment, watching the clock as I waited for my fake boyfriend to come pick me up. What was the matter with me? What had possessed to ever say yes to this… this insanity?
I had gotten off work not too long ago and had come straight home to prepare for my meetup with Father. This was Lea's day off, so I hadn't had to start this whole farce of a relationship around the mall today, which at least was one small comfort. My fingers as per usual were fidgeting with my freshly washed and plaited hair as I watched the seconds slowly tick by, my stomach twisting into tighter and tighter knots.
Sighing, I forced my hands to stop fussing with the braid and they complied… only to start picking at the flaps of the empty cardboard box Rayne had scrounged up for me to put things from my old place into. With a tiny scowl, I shoved my hands into my lap, demanding they be still. That lasted maybe all of two seconds before they started fiddling and twisting at the buttons that ran all the way down the front my navy corduroy overalls dress. The long sleeved shirt I wore underneath it was off the shoulder and white with blue horizontal stripes. The dress itself fell all the way down to my ankles, with a slit up to the knee on one side, giving a peek of my snowflake-patterned tights.
Yes, I was a full grown adult who still liked cutesy prints on my socks and stockings. So sue me.
Erg, where was he? As much as I was dreading seeing Father again and wished I didn't have to deal with it at all, the wait was killing me. And I couldn't put it off forever so I'd rather just get this awfulness over with already. I-
"Hello, Lea?" I heard Rayne's voice and I whipped my head around to spot her stepping out of her bedroom, smartphone pressed to one ear. She shot me a grin but then it faded as she glanced away with a squint. "Whaddya mean you're down in the parking lot? Get your ass up here and knock on the door like a goddamn gentleman, you-"
In the space of a heartbeat, I'd zoomed across the room to snatch the phone from her. "I'll be right down, see you in a sec!" I said quickly into it and, not waiting for a reply, hung up the call before Rayne could steal her phone back.
"Hey!" she huffed, fumbling to catch the device as I tossed to her. Then she gave a tiny whine, "But sweetpea, that's no way for him to treat a lady! I expected better of him!"
I rolled my eyes as I returned to the table to grab the box by one of its flaps. "I told him to just call up when he got here."
Rayne followed behind me with a tiny pout. "But I wanted to practice my whole 'What are your intentions towards my daughter' speech on him!"
"And that," I smirked, tapping her on the nose with my free hand, "is exactly why I told him to call."
Puffing out her cheeks, she crossed her arms. "You're no fun!"
"Ouch. Your words, they wound me. But somehow, someway… I think I'll live," I deadpanned, making my way over to open the front door.
"Oh! Curfew's at ten! Not one minute later, missy, not one second or you're grounded!"
I paused to turn back and droop my eyelids at her. "...too far, Rayne. Too far." Then I left, slamming the door shut behind me.
That woman, I swear. Loved her to pieces, but the sooner that baby was out of her, the better. Then she could focus all of that crazy on her new bundle of joy instead of me.
As I hurried down the steps, I went over the game plan in my head again. It'd been another sleepless night last night as I'd mentally prepared myself for Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really. That's right, I'd named it. Come on, it's me, how could I not? It was the only way I could feel like I had any sort of control over this whole situation. Which I one hundred percent did not. But I needed to try and trick myself into believing that I did if I had any chance of staying sane through all of this.
This being Lea and me. Pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend. And boyfriends and girlfriends did… things. No, not that! Definitely not that, that would be going well above and beyond the call of duty! Yeesh, get your mind out of the gutter! I only meant like, ya know… holding hands, hugging… other various public displays of affection that shall remain nameless because I quite simply could not deal with even the mere thought of such things without my face bursting into flames.
But I was going to have to deal if I had any hope of getting through this. And to deal, I needed to face facts. Lea only saw me as a friend. He was only playing along to help me… as a friend. Whatever I was or wasn't feeling towards him, he did not feel the same way. Doing all those aforementioned boyfriend-girlfriend things? Wasn't going to threaten to make his heart explode like it would mine. So if I was going to survive long enough to make it out the other side of this little fiasco, my heart needed to take a chill pill.
Conceal, don't feel. That was going to be my mantra. It was one I was actually already very familiar with and had put to good practice regularly over the years. Rayne had been right. Growing up in my family, feelings had been a luxury. And as the eldest heir to the Fryse fortune, I'd had an image to maintain, the family name to uphold. I hadn't gotten to enjoy the same freedoms Anna had since she'd been born second. Not that I think I could have ever been such a… shall we say, free spirit like her. I'd always been the bundle of nerves on legs that I am. Conceal, don't feel… that'd been the only way I'd been able to maintain the calm, cool mask in front of high society and not be a walking, talking spazz of an embarrassment to my parents.
And now that little motto was what was going to get me through all this.
At least, I hoped so.
Reaching the bottom floor of my building, I stopped just short of the exit, taking a slow deep breath. Then I smoothed my dress, swept my braid forward over one shoulder and gave myself a reassuring nod.
I got this.
With my box still firmly in hand, I pushed open the door and stepped outside into the parking lot where I immediately spotted Lea. He was looking down at his phone, his thumb swiping across its screen every so often while he leaned against what was presumably his car. A (what looked to be) few decades old yet well taken care of muscle car, black and sleek and one of the types named after an animal like viper or cougar or stingray, you know, just to let you know how cool this vehicle really was. It seemed Lea had decided to color coordinate with his ride, for he was dressed in head-to-toe black himself. Beneath the leather jacket that he wore was a fitted tee that simply read Straight Fire in cracked and faded script. His skinny jeans were ripped at the knees and tucked into a pair of tall, combat boots. If possible, his crimson locks seemed even wilder than usual today and he was also sporting a pair of aviator sunglasses.
...I don't got this.
Also, I was staring.
Also, I'd dropped my box.
Jeez, Elsa, get a grip. So what if the guy was gorgeous? We already knew that. Had established it from day one. It wasn't any sort of definitive proof you'd caught feelings or anything. Anyone, anything, even a corpse, even a frigging lamppost would be susceptible to his, er… his charms.
Giving myself a quick shake, I retrieved my box from the ground and walked towards him. His head lifted at the sound of my footsteps and I could feel his gaze on me. Pocketing his phone as I came to a stop in front of him, he then hunched to my eye level, bringing his face closer to mine as he tipped down his shades, revealing his all but trademark winged eyeliner with a wink and a smirk. "What's cookin', good lookin'?"
...okay. There was a slight chance I'd caught feelings.
But psssh, that little flutter in my rib cage could have been anything. Maybe my last meal was disagreeing with me. Yeah, that had to be it.
Remember. Conceal, don't feel.
Squelching the foreign sensation in my chest, I fixed him with a blank stare. "...wow, that the best you got? You really have been out of the game for a while, haven't you?"
With a snerk, he used a foot to push himself up off the car as he straightened up and opened the passenger side door for me. "Nah, s'not that. I'm just going easy on you. Couldn't have you going all weak in the knees on me right before our big date with your dad."
"I think my knees have nothing to worry about," one corner of my lips turned up as I took a seat.
"You say that now, but trust me," he bent towards me, propping an elbow atop the door window and jerking a thumb towards his face, "if I really turned it on, you wouldn't stand a chance, sweet thang, it'd be straight to Swoon City for you!"
I quirked an eyebrow at him, "Did you really just use the terms 'sweet thang' and 'Swoon City' in the same sentence?"
"...yeah, not my proudest moment. Can we forget that ever happened?"
Biting back a grin, I nodded. "I think that'd be in both our best interests. Mostly yours."
"Smart ass," he shook his head with a chuckle, shutting my door and making his way around to the other side of the car.
Okay. Good. This was going well. He didn't suspect a thing. Elsa, Queen of Evasion. Now I only needed to keep up the act for the duration of the ride. A mere one hour road trip to the city of Arendelle. A measly sixty minutes. And really, what was sixty minutes in the grand scheme of things? Hardly a blip in time. This shouldn't be too hard, right?
...then of course there would be when we actually got there and Lea and I'd have to put on a whole other kind of act for Father. Then the hour long trip back. Then the-
Easy there, girl. Just focus on the immediate task before you. One step at a time.
I heard his door open and glanced over, watching him take a seat and buckle himself in. My lips pursed to one side. "...so Halloween come early this year?"
"Huh?" his hand froze just as he'd been about to turn the key in the ignition, head turning my way, eyebrows shooting high above his aviators. Then he looked down at himself, patting at his shirt and jacket. "You don't like it? Crap, do I look like trash?"
I blinked.
Had I really… just made Lea self-conscious? Lea? The guy who'd dragged me up to do karaoke with him? The guy who'd been dancing around like a doofus atop food court tables while lip-syncing to corny glam metal? That Lea? I wouldn't have even thought the word to exist in his vocabulary.
Oh gosh, I must have taken it too far in the other direction. It's 'Conceal, don't feel,' not 'Demean, be mean.'
Hastily, I said, "No, it's not that. I… you look… good." Like, real good… ahem, down girl. I averted my gaze, hoping my face didn't look as warm as it felt. "I just… wasn't expecting it, is all."
"Oh!" he perked up, a tiny smile pulling at his lips now. "Well, I'm supposed to be your dark, bad boy lover, right? Just wanted to make sure I played up the part. Whaddya think, do I look like your parents' worst nightmare or what?"
"That getup is going to leave an impression, that's for sure."
He started up the engine and it roared to life. "Hell yeah! This is how you pick me out of a crowd. I make myself easy to remember. No way your padre's forgetting me anytime soon."
"I doubt anyone's forgetting you anytime soon. Don't think they could even if they wanted to," I snorted, resting my elbow on the window sill and propping my head against my knuckles.
"Never really could just blend and fade into the background. Side effect of being so majestic," his tongue clicked twice and pretty sure there was a wink behind those shades. Then he nodded to the box in my lap as he reversed the car out of its space, "You can just toss that in the back with the others."
"Others?" I looked over my shoulder to the backseat to discover a few just like mine packed in there. "You brought more?"
He shrugged, exiting the lot and turning us out onto the main road. "Well yeah! Just wanted to help in whatever small way I could."
Small way? The guy was already throwing his whole friggin' life out of whack just to basically be my rent-a-boyfriend, for Pete's sake! I hadn't thought it possible for him to help me even more than he already was. And yet, he'd found a way. To be fair, I hadn't planned to take much back from my old condo, so really, the extra boxes weren't totally necessary. But still…
"Thanks, Lea," I gave him a tiny smile as I put mine with the rest of the herd, "you're very thoughtful."
His fingers ruffled his hair as he gave a sheepish laugh. "Nah, it's nothing."
Alright. Two minutes down. Only fifty-eight more to go.
Lord help me.
Remember when I was more hermity? Yeah, those were the days. I wonder whatever happened to those?
Oh, that's right. My sister and my roommate happened.
Brats.
"So…" I began, racking my brain for the next thing to talk about. Ah, small talk. Bane of my existence. "...nice ride. Please tell me you didn't get it just to complete this whole look you're going for."
"Shit, should I have not?" I just stared at him and he snerked, breaking out into a grin, "Nah, I'm just messing with ya. It was my old man's car. Only thing he left me when he kicked the bucket. Well, that and massive debt. Thankfully, the state took that second one off my hands."
That's right. Lea'd been brought up in the foster system. So this now explained why one of his parents had been out of the picture. I frowned, tucking in my bottom lip. "...I'm sorry."
"Why? Got no reason to be," he chuckled, shaking his head. "It was ages ago, I've long since made my peace with it. I'm not broken up about it, trust me."
My eyes drifted from the buildings blurring past us over to him. "What was he like?"
His head shifted slightly towards me for a second before pointing straight ahead again. "Well… he wasn't ever gonna be winning father of the year, that's for sure. Not even runner up or one of those cruddy lil participation ribbons. The guy ODed out when I was six, so take from that what you will." He paused, tapping an index finger to the steering wheel a few times. "...but he did care. Did his best to do right by me. Saïx too, even though he wasn't his kid. The man wasn't a bad guy… he just didn't have his shit together and never really was meant to be a father."
The downward tug at my lips deepened as I lowered my gaze to my hands, folded neatly in my lap. "...can I ask, ah… your mother..."
"Where she fits into all this?" he ventured and I gave a slow nod. "Oh, she makes Pops look like he was a goddamn saint. She's a leech. Just hopping from one sugar daddy to the next, popping out kids she never wanted. Same day we buried our old man, she took Saïx and me out for ice cream after. Handed us some munny and told us to go order and pay while she snagged us a table to sit at. When we turned around a few minutes later, she'd split. Haven't seen her since."
My heart squeezed as I regarded him with wide eyes. "Wow, that… that's just awful. You have no idea where she is at all?"
"Didn't say that now. We actually did some digging into it a few years ago. Turns out she's just a couple states over, shacked up with some new sucker. An orthodontist or something. They're living up the suburbia life with the white picket fence, two-point-five kids, the whole shebang. Guess Saïx and I were just her practice run rejects before she went off and started her real family." He shrugged, "Though maybe she'll eventually skip out on this one too, who knows?"
I tipped my head to one side. "How do you know all that if you haven't seen her?"
"I haven't. Saïx has." He stopped at a red light, flicking on his turn signal. Then his hand was rubbing at the nape of his neck. "...she did try to reach out to me once. Last year. Left a voicemail saying something about wanting to reconnect or some bullshit. I deleted it. Couldn't of been all that serious 'bout it, seeing as how she hasn't tried again since. Probably just a halfhearted attempt to ease her pathetic excuse for a conscience before washing her hands of it and calling it a day."
My eyebrows met in a peak before I looked away again, fingers absently toying with my braid. He was talking so calmly about it all, so casually. As if he were discussing nothing more interesting than the weather. It made it harder for me to figure out an appropriate response in a situation that I was already so completely socially ill-equipped to deal with in the first place. Should I be just as laid back about it as he was? No, that felt insensitive. Should I express pity? Absolutely not, he'd probably hate that…
Seriously, what do?
How do you people?
"Alright," his voice broke through my thoughts, "you're up for sharing time." The light changed green and he pressed down on the gas pedal, turning us onto the highway entrance. "Why'd you do it? Go all Runaway Bride on your big day?"
I was relieved that he (whether knowingly or not) had saved me from having to come up with something to say to his tragic backstory. Even if this did mean I had to now talk about myself, which usually would have been just as anxiety-inducing of an experience. But somehow, right here, right now, talking to Lea... the idea didn't seem as uncomfortable as I normally would've expected it to be.
Twisting the tip of my braid around one finger, I mulled over it for a few silent seconds. Finally, I said, "It… he and I… we just weren't… right. I thought we were. He thought we were. My parents and his parents certainly thought we were. And I didn't want to disappoint them, so I just kept telling myself that everything was as it should be. That he and I made sense. But we didn't. Not really, not… in my heart. We just…"
"You didn't love him," he said simply, and I winced. As if I'd done something wrong. Then I nodded. "And it took you getting within a stone's throw of saying 'I do' to realize that?"
"Well," I frowned up at the ceiling, "...I'd always heard that love takes time. So I think a part of me was just waiting for it to happen. Waiting for… I don't know… that moment where it'd just hit me, that moment of just… 'oh wow! So that's what this is supposed to feel like' or something. I thought maybe… maybe our first kiss. Or maybe by our first anniversary. Or maybe when he proposed to me. Or maybe when I was trying on gowns or looking at venues with him. But then, suddenly, it was our wedding day and it struck me that still… nothing. And if it I wasn't feeling it after being together for five years, that I probably was never going to. That's when the panic set in and… well…"
"Let me guess. That's when the legendary Phonebook Heist occurred," one corner of his lips twitched up.
I breathed a soft laugh. "Yeah. Had to ditch the big poofy dress. And I used the phonebook to track Rayne down, since she wasn't listed under her full name in it."
A snort escaped him. "Ever thought of this crazy lil thing all the kids are doing nowadays called writing things down on a post-it? I know, wild right? It's new, maybe ya haven't heard of it."
"I was a bit stressed and not exactly thinking clearly in that moment," I bit back a grin, giving his arm a gentle shove.
"Gee, I wonder why," he said wryly as he shifted lanes. "Still curious as to why you felt like you had to run away. Couldn't you have just called the wedding off?"
"You make it sound so easy," my lips twisted sourly. "If it were, do you think I would have let Rayne rope us into going along with this crazy plan of Anna's and hers? You don't know my parents. They… have a way of getting what they want. No one says no to them. In their world, things are done a certain way. Always have been, always will be, end of discussion."
"Their world?" one of his eyebrows arched. Then something clicked. "That's right, you're loaded."
I shook my head, "My parents are, not me. Not anymore, anyway. Not unless you think I'm scooping mall ice cream at minimum wage just for kicks."
"What, you don't have a trust fund or something?"
"No, I do. Or rather… I did. I'm not sure anymore, really, not after everything I've done. Mother and Father control it and can make sure I never see a cent of it now. Not that I think I even want it anymore," I sighed, eyes downcast as I rubbed my elbow. "I really… have no idea what to expect at this point. How this whole meeting with Father will go. What he'll say or do or… I'm just… terrified."
I felt an unexpected warmth on my shoulder and I glanced over to find Lea's hand resting there. He gave it a small squeeze and smiled, "It'll be okay, El. Everything'll work out, you'll see. You'll get through this. And I'll be there to help any way I can, capisce? Now buck up," he lightly nicked my chin with his knuckle before gripping the steering wheel again. "Gonna need you to bring your A-game here if we're gonna fool your old man. Do a real good job and there's an ice cream with your name on it when we get back to Twilight Town."
One side of my mouth tugged up. "Don't you still owe me ice cream for helping you study?"
"And I still plan to make good on that once I've finally nailed down your fave. Speaking of," he paused with a low hum. "...Aloha Ohana?" My lips parted but he was already shaking his head, "Nope, too chunky. You like your desserts like you like your men," he waggled his eyebrows, "smooth."
My grin twitched wider. "Oh, really? And how would you know?"
"Isn't it obvious? Cuz I'm yo man," he jabbed a thumb into his chest.
"...and you think you're smooth?"
"As silk, baby!"
I hid my growing smile behind my fingers. "You're a dork is what you are… but a sweet dork."
He chuckled. "Maybe. But don't tell anyone. I got my bad boy reputation to maintain."
"Your secret is safe with me."
Somehow I was now getting the feeling that this little road trip of ours?
Maybe wasn't going to be as bad as I'd originally thought.
"Whatcha think? Too much?"
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I glanced over at Lea. Sunglasses now perched atop his head, he returned my gaze, looking away from using his rear view mirror to help him up his guyliner game. The makeup pencil in his hand lifted from his cheek where he'd been applying what looked to be an upside down teardrop mark just beneath his right eye.
I snerked and wrinkled my nose slightly.
Lea huffed out a tiny laugh. "Say no more," he reached over, pulling some tissue from the glove compartment and wiping off his cheek.
We'd arrived just a moment ago and had parked on Fjord Boulevard, right in front of my old condominium building. I'd been using that minute to gather myself and work up the nerve to actually get out of the car. If it hadn't already been made abundantly clear, Lea had been using that same minute just as wisely himself.
Inhaling and exhaling slowly one last time, I finally unbuckled my seatbelt, opened my door and stepped onto the sidewalk.
The building before me was tall, imposing, and screamed munny and decadence. I'd never really noticed the sheer air of grandeur about it before, but now it all but smacked me in the face. Gosh, had it really only been about a month since I'd last been here? It felt like eons ago. A whole other lifetime. That girl who'd lived here once upon a time… she hadn't been me. Not really. It almost felt wrong coming back here now. Like I was an imposter. Some sort of usurper. It made my insides shrivel up and it took everything I had not to just jump back into the car and speed away without so much as a backwards glance.
Spotting movement out of the corner of my eye, I turned my head to find Lea standing next to me now, a couple of the smaller cardboard boxes wedged between his arm and side. My hands went to take one from him but he pivoted back a step, shifting them out of my reach as he wagged a finger in my face, "Ah ah! Don't worry about it, I got 'em. Makes me feel all buff and manly." He flexed his free arm.
I gave him a dull look. "...they're empty."
"Shush, let me have this."
My eyelids drooped. "Fine. You're the manliest man to ever man."
"Thank you." Then he gave a tiny mock bow, sweeping one hand out wide towards the building before us, "Lady's first."
Shaking my head, I walked towards the doorman standing in wait beneath the long awning leading to the entrance.
That's right. Doorman. As if this place weren't fancy enough already.
"Welcome back, Miss Fryse," he greeted, pulling the door open for me. "Or, if I may be so bold, Mrs W-"
"No!" I blurted out quickly, eyes wide, palms blurring up in a stop gesture.
Oh gosh, he had no idea I'd ran out on the wedding.
...well of course he didn't! Why would he?
...awkwaaaaard.
"Th-thank you, Cliff," I shakily lowered my hands to clasp in front of me, averting my gaze. "Ah… Fryse, please… if you would."
The man seemed unperturbed. In fact, his face brightened, "Oh, how modern! My missus will be thrilled to hear it. I trust you had a lovely honeymoon?"
And the awkward just kept on coming.
"It… er… " I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm actually in a small bit of a hurry. I have plans to meet with Father here shortly."
"Ah yes, so he said as well," he nodded before looking past me with a delicate frown. "And would this be the, uh… guest he mentioned would be accompanying you?"
I followed his gaze, glancing over my shoulder to where Lea stood behind me, hooligan incarnate. He clicked his tongue, shooting a finger gun at the doorman. I said, "Yes, I suppose he would b-" the words caught in my throat and I quickly looked back at Cliff. "Wait, so he said?" I echoed. "...is my father here already?"
"Why yes, ma'am, I let him in but a few moments ago."
My heart plummeted into my stomach.
I hadn't expected him to be here before us. I'd thought we would still have a little more time.
But he was here now.
This was happening now.
Like... now now.
And I was so very…
...very…
...NOT ready!
Somehow, I kept it together enough to manage a thanks to Cliff before stepping inside, feeling my knees start to go numb. And somehow, I kept it together while crossing the gilded, marble foyer to the elevators, ignoring the clamminess of my palms. I even somehow kept it together long enough to exchange pleasantries with the lobby attendant there who called the lift down for us before Lea and I stepped onto it and I, with only a slight tremor to my limbs, pushed the button for the top floor.
But the nanosecond those mechanized, mirrored doors slid shut…
"I can't!" My hands shot up, fingers digging into my scalp as I started hyperventilating and pacing, feeling the elevator begin to rise. "I can't go through with this! I can't, I just can't do it! This is crazy, this, this is nuts! How the heck did I ever let them talk me into this?! How?! There's just… just no way! It's not possible, I can't! I can't, I can't, I-"
Lea was suddenly in front of me, gently grabbing my arms and bringing me to an abrupt stop. "Woah now, slow down, El, breathe," he bent down to look me in the eye with concern. "It'll be okay. Trust me on this, you can do this. We can. You just gotta take it one step at a time and breathe, okay? Can you do that for me?"
"But how?! How will it be okay? I have to lie to him! I can't lie, I don't know how! I have no chill! You hear me? None! Zip! Absolutely zero chill! I couldn't even lie to Anna about the Easter Bunny when she was only four years old! Four, Lea. Four!"
"Okay, alright, then just don't think about it as lying. Think about it as…" his lips pursed to the left as his eyes shifted about. Then his face lit up, "...as one of those musicals you like so much!"
"Ah! We should break out into song and dance!" I said excitedly if somewhat desperately.
This is my brain. This is my brain on panic attack.
"...let's call that plan B. But no, I meant more like we're… between numbers right now and that we're acting. You like acting, right? Told me you used to do it all the time at camp, remember?"
"Acting…" I repeated slowly, turning the word over in my mind as some of the tension started to ease from my body.
Yes, acting. Acting technically, technically wasn't lying. Acting I could do.
...maybe.
I frowned at him. "I need a script."
"A script," he blinked. Then he straightened up, tapping a knuckle to his chin. "What about instead… guidelines?"
"Guidelines?" I echoed flatly.
"Yeah, for… ya know…" he pointed back and forth between him and me, "...this. Us. When we're in front of your folks and around the mall. Stuff like, uh..." he cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head, "...PDAs? Do's and don'ts. What's okay and what isn't. Boundaries and whatnot."
...oh.
Oh fudge.
"...you're kidding me… this is only coming up now?!" Recommencing pacing forthwith, now with added braid yanking action. "What's wrong with me, what was I thinking?! We had that whole friggin' car ride here, no, the whole last twenty-four hours and somehow we didn't discuss this already?! Not even once?!"
"El, El, it's okay, we can figure all that stuff out now."
His hand tried to close around my arm again, but I jerked it free. "How? There's no time! Any second, the elevator with chime and those doors will part and we'll have to face him and I'll crack and he'll know and, and, and that's it! Done! Finito! Curtains! It'll all be over before it's even begun and-"
This time he did manage to grab hold of my arm, pulling me to him and wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. "Shh," he murmured, lightly stroking my hair and resting his chin on my head. He felt so warm as I took shallow, rapid breaths against his chest, inhaling that cinnamon scent of his combined with the oddly soothing smell of leather from his jacket that I was tightly gripping onto. My eyes slowly fluttered shut, my muscles starting to relax again, my panicked heart rate beginning to calm.
This was actually somewhat… kind of nice...
And then it happened.
The elevator chimed. Those doors parted. My eyes snapped open to discover standing there waiting for us on the other side was-
"F-Father!" I gasped, shoving Lea away. "Hi! I mean," I stood up straighter, stepped out onto the new floor, folded one hand over the other just below my waist, and ducked my head slightly, "H-Hello."
...wait.
Did I just…?
Instant mental replay.
-shoving Lea away-
Crud.
Not five seconds in and I was already acting in a most ungirlfriendlike fashion towards my alleged boyfriend.
What'd I tell you? Zero chill. Zilch.
"Elsa," I heard my father say, drawing my attention back to him. He was a tall man with hair the same auburn as Anna's. He looked stiff and rigid in the expensive dark blue suit he was wearing, lips set into a stoic line beneath his thin mustache and green eyes stern as he regarded me. The air felt heavy around us, the long stretch of silence deafening. I was convinced there was no possible way he couldn't hear the jackhammering of my heart against my ribcage while I tried to maintain a cool exterior under his scrutiny. Then finally after what felt like an eternity, he said evenly, "You look well."
I bit down on my lip as I lowered my gaze once more, eyes darting about. "...as do you."
Insert uncomfortably drawn-out pause. Then, "And I presume this would be…?"
He was looking at Lea, standing beside me now with boxes once more lazily propped on his jutted hip. My heart jolted and I started wringing my hands. "Ah… yes… this… this is…"
Just spit it out already!
"...this is boy. He is friend."
I word good.
Alright, take two.
Suppressing my wince, I tried again, "Er, that is to say, this is…" I clenched and unclenched my hands at my sides. "...this is my… my-"
"Lea," he rescued me, introducing himself and offering his hand.
My father just stared at it, expression unreadable, and there was a second - one very long second - where I thought he might not take it. But at last he did, if a touch gingerly, and gave it a curt shake. "A... pleasure, I'm sure."
"Likewise, Pops." He grinned now, "It's fine to call you Pops, right? Might as well get all friendly cuz we're gonna be seeing a lot of each other, no doubt."
Father didn't so much as yank his hand back as retrieve it as quickly as was politely and socially acceptable, his lips tight. "...Mr Fryse will suffice."
Lea just shrugged and grinned wider, taking his own hand back.
And slid it into mine, interlacing our fingers together.
Heart.
Flatlined.
Okay, sure, this really shouldn't have been all that big of a deal. After all, Lea had held my hand before. But that had just been when he'd needed to drag me somewhere. It'd been incidental. This? This was hand holding with purpose. This hand holding was a declaration. This hand holding was up on the metaphorical soapbox with a megaphone and would not be ignored. This hand holding was making a goddamn statement.
This hand holding was causing me to burn bright red.
Conceal, don't feel, conceal, don't feel, conceal, don't feel!
Luckily, Father's narrowed gaze was too focused on said hand holding to notice my face trying to give the plush, deep crimson carpet beneath our feet a run for its munny. After another excruciatingly long second (of which I was beginning to suspect this little visit would be in no short supply of), he whipped around and strode off down the hallway, back ramrod straight and voice taut as he said, "Let's step into your condo now."
"Let's," Lea chirped, following after him.
Still holding my hand.
I stumbled into awkward step beside him, glancing out of the corner of my eye down at where my tingling fingers were intertwined with his. This was no longer necessary… right? I mean, Father wasn't looking at us anymore. So I should just let go, shouldn't I? Yes… yes, I absolutely should. Okay, here we go… letting go now… in three… two… one...
...I wasn't letting go.
I shot my hand a tiny scowl. Fine, you win. Five more seconds, bucko, but that's it.
It remained stubbornly fastened to his. Fifteen seconds.
I rolled my eyes. Ten seconds, but that's as high as I'm willing to go.
...was I seriously haggling with my hand just now?
I'm in desperate need of having my head examined.
It wasn't long before we came to a stop where the hall turned at a corner, Father using a key already in hand to open the door located there. My door. Or rather… what was now formerly my door, I suppose. He walked in first with Lea not too far behind him and me in tow, my hand still in his.
To say the condo we'd stepped into was spacious would be an understatement. The living room alone probably could have fit Rayne's and Riku's apartment in it twice over. It was a corner unit with massive floor-to-ceiling windows leading out onto an expansive balcony overlooking the city and the distant white-capped mountains that surrounded it. With its crystal tables, art deco furniture, and extravagant paintings hanging on the walls, the sitting room was quite picturesque. So pretty, so pristine, so... sterile. Like one of those staged pictures that would be on a website trying to catch the eye of potential buyers. My mother had done the decorating, not I, which was probably why it looked so unlived in. This was more space than I had ever really needed anyway. I'd rarely left my own bedroom when I'd called this place home.
A low whistle blew from Lea's lips as his eyes drifted around the room. "Wow, you really were a princess up in a tower, huh?" He slipped his hand out of mine and I had to ignore how cold and lonely my fingers now felt. Stupid, clingy fingers. "Why don't you two take a minute to catch up while I," he held up the boxes, giving them a tiny shake, "go get started in your room. Which door is it? Bah, nevermind, I'll figure it out."
I blinked. Wait, my room? I didn't know if I was all that comfortable with the idea of someone being in there without me and going through my stuff.
I turned to look at him, opening my mouth to voice my objection. Before I could utter a sound however, his hand cradled the back of my neck, drawing me closer to him and planting a tender kiss to my forehead, sending waves of icy heat rippling all the way down to my toes.
I-
Wha-
Conc-
Don-
Fe-
Con- Co- C-C-Congeal, tone eel!
...wait, what?
Please stand by, Elsa is currently experiencing some minor technical difficulties.
He pulled back, smiling down at me and murmuring, "Have fun, babe." Yup. Those were words alright. Did I understand them? Nope! In fact, I wasn't comprehending much of anything in that second. "Pops," Lea shot my father a two-fingered salute before wandering off down an archway on the far side of the room leading to the rest of the condo.
Father lifted his nose with a sniff, lips pinching almost imperceptibly. "Your… friend is quite the... character."
"Ah… yes. He is," I heard myself replying, surprised that I was able to string more than two words together, bonus points for being in the correct order to boot. Wouldn't have thought it possible, what with my brains having been melted to mush inside the blazing sauna that was currently my face. There was no way Father could miss it this time. Hopefully he just thought I was embarrassed over the impropriety of Lea's forwardness. Not wanting to give him a chance to read too much into it, I hastily asked, "How is Mother?"
"As well as can be expected," he said flatly, folding his arms behind him and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "...better… since we've had news of you."
I winced, looking down at my feet.
And there it was again. That stifling silence.
There were so many things unsaid hanging in the air between us. A big whopping elephant wearing a friggin' diamond-studded wedding gown in the room that neither one of us wanted to be the first one to bring up, it seemed. At least, I know I certainly didn't. I knew I couldn't avoid the unpleasant topic forever, but at the same time there was a silly little part of me that was hoping if I put it off long enough, that... I don't know... the statute of limitations for discussing it would expire or something.
If only.
Well, someone had to be the one to start. Might as well get this over with. Screwing my eyes shut, I took a deep breath and-
"Snowbunny? Could you come in here for a sec please?" Lea's voice rang out from down the hall.
Great. And just when my face had finally managed to cool down too. At the rate this was going, I was beginning to suspect my cheeks might get stuck in this lovely shade of tomato rouge.
Plastering on a smile, I told Father, "I'll be right back."
"Of course," he gave a simple nod. However, the tiny scowl he was directing towards where Lea's words had come from was not lost on me.
I primly and with as much dignity as I could muster walked over to the archway. As soon as I was out of his line of sight however, I broke into a sprint down the hall, skidding to a stop in the doorway to my bedroom and scrunching up my face. "Snowbunny?" I spat out like it left a bad taste in my mouth.
He looked up from where he was neatly folding one of my dresses into a box atop my bed, flashing me a grin. "Was trying out a pet name to use around the folks. Thoughts?"
"I think there's a razor thin line between you trying to not look or sound like a pushover in front of them and you just straight up pissing them off."
"Huh," he tipped his head to one side. "...keep workingshopping it then?"
I rolled my eyes with a soft snort, moving further into the room to stand in front of him, "Yes, I'd say so."
"Noted." He closed the flaps to the box shut before crossing his arms and shifting over to lean back against my vanity, frowning at me. "Hey, we're okay right?" At my quirked eyebrow, he elaborated, "Ya know, with the this," he raised one of his hands with a waggle, then pointed at my own hand, "holding that, and these," now he gestured to his lips before gently poking my brow, "planting one right there."
"Oh." I resisted the urge to reach up to where my forehead still felt warm and had the ghost of a tickle from the brush of his lips earlier. Doing my best to suppress the umpteenth blush of the day, I looked away, "No, no, that was nice… er, I mean fine. Acceptable."
Elsa, Queen of Keeping Her Cool.
He grinned in relief. "Good. Was just winging it since we didn't really get a chance to discuss anything, but wouldn't have wanted to do something that made you uncomfortable."
"Nope! Totally a-okay here." I gave him a thumbs up. Then immediately felt lame for giving him a thumbs up and instead put my hands to better use running them down my braid. "So… I'm assuming there's an actual reason you called me in here."
"Right!" He flicked a hand at the two cardboard crates sitting side by side atop my mattress. "We're gonna need more boxes from the car."
I furrowed my brow, approaching them. "But I thought I'd only need one. How'd you fill them both up already?"
Lea shrugged, one side of his mouth turning up. "Just grabbed stuff out of your closet. Anything that'd look cute on you."
I pulled the flaps back on one to peek inside, my eyes widening before hastily opening the other one as well and puffing out a sigh, "You've packed everything that was hanging in there."
"Well, yeah! Cuz everything looks cute on you, El!"
It should be illegal for him to say things like that.
My broiling cheeks seconded that notion.
Slapping the boxes shut again, I huffed, "Fine, we'll run back down to grab more after my father leaves. But you! You're no longer involved in the decision making of what I do or don't bring back, got it? I don't have room for all this junk at my new place," I jabbed a warning finger in his direction, to which he just held up his hands in surrender, smirking and giving me another tiny shrug.
That was the face of zero remorse.
And I couldn't even really get mad about it since he'd only been being his big dumb sweet self again.
Ugh, I didn't even really want all these things. All these clothes that'd been bought and paid for with my parents' munny. This was my new life, my own life free from their control and I wanted to manage it with absolutely zero help from them, nothing, not even so much as a stitch of clothing. The only real reason I'd even come here today was to see Father and set Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really in motion. I'd probably just end up giving most if not all of these dresses to charity anyway.
Shaking my head, I glanced about the room. "Now where…? Ah!" I'd spotted what I was looking for - my phone resting on the vanity next to Lea's hand. Probably left there by Anna weeks ago, since she'd been the one holding onto it for me on The Wedding Day That Never Was.
Lea sidestepped out of my way as I moved to pick it up. He gave me a curious look, "The parental units still gonna be paying for your data plan?"
"Doubt it. I wouldn't accept it, even if they offered. Rayne said she can put me on her and Riku's family plan until I've gotten a few more checks from work and can start paying for my own. It'll be nice not having to borrow hers all the time anymore."
...okay, I know I'd just had that little mental spiel about not wanting to accept anything from my parents. But come on now, in this day and age, phones are all but a necessity, not to mention expensive. Besides, it's not like I was just going to take it. I planned to reimburse my parents for it… discuss and figure out some sort of payment plan with them that would work with my budget.
"Well in that case," he pulled a black Sharpie from the pen holder on my vanity, biting down on the cap and pulling it off before taking one of my hands in his and turning my palm up so he could write a phone number on it, punctuated with a tiny heart.
I stared blankly at my hand. "Um…?"
He winked at me. "My digits."
Now I stared at him blankly. "I figured, but why?"
"What, you don't think you should have yo man's number on speed dial in your phone?"
"No, that I get, but why," I shoved my palm into his face, "on my hand?"
A tiny snerk through his nose. "How else were you gonna get it? By psychically plucking it outta the air from my mind?"
"No, by having Rayne enter it into my phone after recharging it when I got home," I said flatly.
He blinked, eyes darting to the left. "...alright, point there." Then he chuckled, scratching a spot behind his ear. "I've just always wanted to write my number on a girl's hand. Seemed like a real slick move."
I drooped my eyelids at him. "Was it everything you dreamed it would be, stud?"
"And more!" he beamed.
"You're weird."
"Careful now or all that sweet talk of yours will go straight to my head."
Fighting a begrudging grin, I snatched up the charger from where it lay on the vanity as well and stepped back over to the boxes, slipping it and the mobile in with the folded clothes. Then both my eyebrows shot up my forehead and I glanced back at him. "Wait, you've never written your number on a girl's hand before?"
He blinked back at me, "...no?"
"But Rayne told me what a ladykiller you used to be, and that right there seems like Ladykillers 101."
"Gah, Raindrop," he grumbled under his breath, facepalming. "...those were… you don't really need to exchange numbers when you're just… looking to hookup for a night."
"...oh." I looked away, seriously regretting pulling at this thread.
His hand went to the nape of his neck, tugging at the hairs there. "...I've changed a lot in the last year."
"It sounds like it," I smiled gently at him. Then I exhaled heavily, "Okay… guess I better get back out there then."
"Wait," his hand closed around my wrist as I turned to go, stopping me in my tracks. I gave him a questioning look and he released me, squinting at me and tapping a knuckle to his lips in thought. Then he snapped his fingers and was shrugging out of his leather jacket, holding it out towards me. "Put this on."
My head rocked back slightly, gaze shifting back and forth between him and it a few times. "...but I'm not cold. And we're inside. Why would I go back out to Father wearing your jacket?"
"That's the point," his eyes crinkled as he moved closer to me, slipping my arms into it and tugging it on, flipping the collar up. "Make him wonder. It'll drive him batshit. Now scoot," his fingertip booped my nose before he spun me around and gave me a light shove out of my room. I staggered out into the hall, glancing back at Lea as he leaned a shoulder against my door frame. "Go get 'im, tiger."
I shot him a hard stare. "Also not an acceptable pet name in front of my parents."
"Duly noted." His arms folded beneath his chest as he tossed his head towards the living room, "Now go on already, get."
Pressing my lips together into a thin line, I looked straight ahead down the hall, squared my shoulders and started a slow march forward.
Why was I doing all of this again? Oh, right. To get my parents to leave me alone and stop trying to interfere with my life. And wearing Lea's jacket was going to help with that. Somehow. Was still kind of fuzzy on the how. The jacket itself smelled strongly of boy - really nice smelling, cinnamon-spiced boy. It was actually kind of comforting and was easing my nerves somewhat. So in a way, I guess that was helping. I glanced down at the sleeves as I walked. They were too long, stretching past my hands and hiding the number written in fresh ink on my palm. I suppose that helped a bit too. It would have been awkward explaining it to Father if he had seen it. So in that regard, the jacket was also practical.
So there you have it.
A helpful, comforting, and practical jacket.
...ugh, what was I even doing anymore? Really? Could somebody tell me please? At this point, I was just grasping at straws here.
I stepped back out into the living room to find Father with his back to me as he faced the large windows, staring out onto the balcony and beyond. I gave a polite little cough into my hand to catch his attention, saying, "Sorry to keep you waiting."
"Not at all, I-" he cut himself off as he turned, spotting me. Or, more precisely, me in the jacket. He then proceeded to give the thing the darkest look I'd ever seen him give any poor, unsuspecting garment.
Welp. Mission accomplished there I guess.
Whatever the mission had been exactly.
I gnawed on my bottom lip, absently fiddling with the zipper dangling from the left leather sleeve. Then I broke the long stretch of silence with a delicate clearing of my throat. "S-so… about the, uh… about the wedd-"
His hand shot up, stopping my words dead. His face had regained its aloof, impassive mask once more. "Regrettably, we don't have time to properly discuss that matter this visit. I have business elsewhere that I must attend to shortly. I merely came to allow you access to your old condo."
"Oh," I breathed, frowning and quickly looking down at my feet.
"...and to see for myself how you were doing," he added, his voice softening somewhat. Maybe I'd only imagined it however. "Your mother… she's expressed wishes to see you as well."
My gaze lifted once more as I sucked in a tiny breath, feeling hope prickle inside my chest. "Ah… yes, of… of course! I could come visit in a few days or-"
"We're actually having a small family get-together in roughly two weeks' time. A bit of a weekend affair, if you will. I think it would be for the best if you came by then. We could set aside time to discuss your actions between the festivities. Of course, your… your friend," he tried, really did try, to restrain the curl of distaste to his lips here, but wasn't quite fully successful, "is extended the invitation as well."
"You're too kind, Pops!" Lea's chipper voice sounded from behind me even as I'd been opening my mouth to respond. Before I could turn to look at him, I felt his grip on my arm tugging me and I stumbled backwards into his chest where he proceeded to hug my shoulders from behind and nuzzle his cheek against mine. "We wouldn't miss it for the world!"
How I had yet to suffer a heart attack during this entire little excursion was beyond me.
Once again, the words 'Conceal, don't feel,' chanted like a desperate prayer through my mind as I grasped his arm, hiding my flushed face in the crook of his elbow. Those three little words were starting to blur together into gibberish and lose all meaning, I'd recited them so much at this point.
Father fixed us with a long, unblinking stare and he'd gone so still, I could have sworn he'd turned to solid stone for a second there. But at last, he managed a, "Wonderful." I seriously doubt he meant that. "We look forward to seeing you both there." That either. "Well then... I'll just leave this here," he deposited the key onto the dining table, "should you decide you need to come back at a later date for more of your belongings. If and when we decide to sell the unit, we'll be sure to let you know. I'll be in touch shortly with further details of the upcoming gathering, otherwise I'm sure your sister will be only too happy to pass along the information as well."
"Thank you… Father," I muffled into Lea's arm.
He bowed his head slightly. "Right then, well… I must be off."
"T'was lovely to make your acquaintance," I could all but hear the smirk in Lea's voice as Father turned to go.
He froze, posture reaching new magnitudes of stiffness previously thought impossible. "...likewise," was all he said after a beat, not even looking back before striding out the front door, clicking it shut behind him.
And just like that, he was gone.
"I think that went rather well," Lea said brightly, not yet removing his arms.
I sighed, unconsciously relaxing a bit back into his chest. "I guess. Though I was kind of hoping we'd be able to air everything out today so it'd be all over and done with... I suppose I should be glad he didn't just disown me on the spot, for whatever that's worth. This thing he's invited us to though… it makes me uneasy."
His hair tickled as he turned his head to look at me. "What makes you say that?"
A small frown marred my face. "I don't know… it's probably nothing, just me being paranoid. I guess… all we can do is go, continue to put on this little performance and see what happens." My eyelids drooped, "Speaking of which, we really need to get on setting those ground rules for PDAs."
He swiftly released me now, taking a step back and holding his arms up like a criminal caught red-handed, "Sorry, did I cross a line with that one?"
I turned to face him but didn't quite meet his gaze. I knew that if I did in this precise second, I might be setting a new world record for number of blushes per minute, or BPM if you will. Feeling I'd done enough of that for one day, I looked everywhere but directly into his eyes, fingers plucking at my braid. "Not… exactly. I just… need to be forewarned on these things… know what I'm getting into, so they don't, ah… catch me off guard in the future."
"Oh, so that's why you were such an awkward walnut the whole time," he laughed, moving over to one of the couches and flopping down unceremoniously onto it, kicking his boots up on the immaculate, glossy finish of the coffee table. "Thought that was a little weird. You acted like a guy's never given you snuggles and affection before."
My lips twisted to one side and I said nothing.
His eyes widened and he sat up straighter. "You gotta be pulling my leg here. You were dating the guy, your fiancé, for what... five years was it? What were you two even doing that whole time?"
Grimacing, I made my way over to sit on the opposite end of the sofa from him. "The thing is, my ex… he was never really a fan of romantic gestures, big or small. Especially not in front of other people."
"Seriously?" he looked positively offended at the very idea. "He had to at least hug you in public, right?" I hesitantly shook my head. "Brush your hair back behind your ear?" A pause, then a second small shake. "Shit, for the love of- hold your hand?" Annnnd a third. "Please, please tell me he at least kissed you."
So much for not making it into the Guinness book for the most BPM. With a tiny scowl, I said, "Well, of course he did. Though… mostly only behind closed doors. But he'd take me on dates to fancy restaurants, art galas, the opera... oh, and he'd occasionally tuck my hand into the crook of his elbow when we were out." It almost sounded like I was trying to defend him now. "And he'd… uh…" Huh. Guess that about covered it. "...well, he just thought such things to be garish, empty gestures that were unnecessary," I finished lamely.
Lea gaped at me. "...and you were gonna marry this guy? Dude sounds like a fucking idiot."
I looked at him sharply. "Excuse me?"
"Sorry, it's just…" he frowned now, leaning forward in his seat and planting his elbows on his knees, rubbing his arm. "El, you deserve better than that. Someone who'll worship the ground you walk on. Ya know… rose petals, white doves, the whole cornball, cheesy works."
"Oh." Would you look at that? Not two seconds and I'd already shattered the new BPM record I'd just set. I was really going to need to get this whole face heating situation under control, this quite simply would not fly anymore. "...th-thank you?"
He cleared his throat and propped his cheek in his palm, looking at me sideways. "No wonder you were weird about all that stuff I did. You've never really been all that touchy-feely with a guy before, huh?" He grinned, "Good news is we got two weeks to practice."
I cocked my head slightly. "Practice?"
"Yup!" He scooched over closer to me, nudging my shoulder with his. "We threw ya into the deep end before you were ready. Now we gotta rewind and actually teach you how to swim. And you know a good place to start? Learning by example."
"Which means…?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Observing some of the local wildlife perform their ritualistic mating displays in their natural habitat. That's right, you guessed it: couple-watching in the food court!"
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Author's Note: Our couple is off to a rocky start! But it's to be expected with what an awkward penguin Elsa is. She was not built for this! But she'll get there… maybe xD They got 2 weeks to figure it out anyway… 2 whole weeks of fluff, mwahaha! Yeah, we're gonna take a lil detour off the Plot Highway here to make a stop in the good ol' town of Fluffsville for the next several chapters xD Also, Elsa's dress this chapter is loosely based on her Let It Go ice dress - the silhouette of it is at least (I think I used that fashion term correctly…). Lea's outfit is based on nothing, I just wanted to make him... smokin' hawt ;D ALSO, Elsa's dad isn't as nice a guy in this as he seems to be in the Frozen movies, but you all probably figured that was coming with the way he's been talked about the whole story thus far. To be fair, Elsa's parents in the movie could be considered a bit controlly with how they made Elsa suppress her powers, so just consider how he is in this story a twist on that from the movies xD Yet another also: Cliff (the doorman) is apparently the name of one of the rock trolls in the movie, so I figured, SURE, why not, let's name the doorman that! And one more also (last one, I swear!) - I'd run out of KH:BBS official ice cream flavors by this chapter. The one named in this chapter (based on Lilo and Stitch if it weren't obvious) was one my friend (who I'm borrowing Rayne from) came up with! I imagine it's description up on the Ice Palace menu would read something like "It's got all the punch of Hawaii's tangy fruit flavors and a little bit of Elvis for kicks! Naturally it's blue as the sea with bits of Hawaiian fruit in the center!" In any case, by the next time I needed to come up with an ice cream flavor name later on in this story, I'd figured out a new source list to pull from, as you'll all discover very soon!
Next chapter, will our leading man and lady get the hang of this whole relationship dealio? What couple(s) did Lea have in mind for them to watch? Will it actually help? Or will it only muddle matters further? Just what IS the world record for most blushes per minute and is Elsa really in the running for that highly coveted title? Stay tuned!
Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!
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judgement-free-sideblog · 5 years ago
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Dancing lessons
Barry Berkman x reader
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Summary: Barry is finally cast in a feature, the problem? He said he could dance and now he can either disappoint Sally or found a way to learn some steps.
Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence, guns, cheating maybe.
Part 1 ● Part 2 ● Part 3 ● Part 4 ● Part 5 ● Part 6 ● Part 7 ● Part 8 ● Epilogue
Part 2
One week after the first time Barry meet Y/N he was nowhere near learning tango, let alone dancing on the level his stupid resume said he could, he only have ended with horrible pain on his knees, thighs and back. And he hasn't even practice dancing with music yet, apparently his instructor thought he first had to learn one basic step and repeat it a million times before he could start doing the "flashy and presumptuous" step, as she called them, that the director may want.
"You really don't have to worry" Sally said during breakfast, they have an agreement to spend the night at least twice a week in each other apartment but he could tell she rather if he stayed at hers since Jermaine and Nick didn't get along with her. "That girl you say is dancing with you, I just heard from Lindsay that she is totally sleeping with the director so probably the scene is an excuse to show her dancing talent and they will be focusing on her instead of you" She drank the rest of her orange juice and stood up quickly "God is so late" she checked her phone and gave him a kiss on the cheek before taking her purse and keys and rush to the door "I'll see you tonight ok? Good luck!"
"Bye, I love..." And then she was gone. "You" He finished his breakfast and took his own car to the studio where he had to finish filming his scenes.
"Barry you're here, excellent!" Andre said when he arrived, thankfully he was not the star of the film and he didn't have to listen the hundred of notes he had for the leads nor taking all the shit the PAs get from him. "Look" He said pointing at his tablet "Janice is on New York for three more weeks for a Ballet presentation, but she sent this to me, is the perfect choreography for the scene. What do you think?" He showed her a clip of Janice and some professional dancer with a song he didn't knew, probably in Spanish or Italian, dancing incredibly close, with several lifts and spins.
"Great" He said feeling dizzy "Flashy and presumptuous" He add really low.
"What was that?"
"Classy and marvelous, is a modern take on the Argentine style isn't?" He said repeating what Y/N had said to him the day before.
"I have no idea, but hey you are the expert" He gave him a pat on the back. "You can start rehearsing with Janice when she gets back" He didn't like that kind of touching, it reminded him of Fuches and make him feel uneasy.
"Sure, great, hey could you send me that video, you know to study her movements" he tried to sound casual and not frightened as he was.
"Yeah sure" he said and with a hand gesture urged him to move to the set where he got to start shooting.
The minute he was over he drove back to Y/N's studio and saw her giving her class to young girls all dressed as ballerinas, she was wearing a black seetrough dancing skirt over a leotard, and his eyes lingered on her legs a few seconds more than he should mesmerized as he was by the elegance she used to dance.
"Barry you are early" She saluted him with a smile, "Girls say hi to Mr. Block" she said at the mass of pink and white.
"Hi Mr. Block" They cheered.
"I'll be done in a few minutes but this really is a private rehearsal" She pat her lips with one finger thinking "Would you mind waiting upstairs? I mean I would hate for you to drive back home to come back in less than an hour, and the coffee place on this block sucks" She said and the girls start laughing "Don't tell your mothers" She quickly add.
"I don't want to be a burden"
"Oh nonsense, you are not, go upstairs, I have food on the fridge but I wouldn't recommend it since you are dancing later and the WiFi password is written next to the phone" She insisted and he finally accept.
The apartment was just a little bigger than the one he rented with Jermaine and had a nice walls on a blue shade that reminded him of the ocean. And a big window facing directly to the door, so the first thing you see when you entered were the rooftop of other buildings and the hills in the back.
He entered feeling himself as an intruder, but being honest that was a common feeling for him, even if he haven't break in any place in over a year, a very long year, and again the pain of thinking of Fuches maybe lurking around strike him in the chest.
He found a place to sit and after being 5 minutes in complete silence trying to not be alone with his thoughts he took out his laptop to watch the dance again. Next to the landline was a nice picture of Y/N on his wedding dress next to a man that must be her husband with golden letters and numbers written over: JPTLV150813.
Once he was connected he allow himself to look around, the living room was tastefully decorated and there were some framed paintings of wild flowers on the wall in purples and pinks. He glance at their dinner table in the other room next to her kitchen, and while he was still holding he picture his mind start wandering, maybe Sally would like to live with him in a place like that. Full of light and peaceful.
He picture himself waking every morning and walking towards the kitchen to make her breakfast, she getting out of the set exhausted, to get a glass of wine in the living room. Reading lines together in the couch, and falling asleep there watching a movie.
And then since he hadn't sleep wery well and Y/N couch was madly comfortable he fall asleep still holding the picture and suddenly Sally's face start fading away, and Y/N replaced her, in a blue version of the clothes she was wearing earlier, he saw himself dancing with her on the living room, a slow and romantic rhythm, and instead of her husband it was him smiling on the picture next to the phone. She would come upstairs tired from work and he would stop her at the door to give her a passionate kiss... then the sound of a gun going off came from the window and a blood stain start forming in her chest running and she collapsing on his arms, and then it was Sally lifeless body again who he was holding and she whispered before losing her breath You did this and fearful he looked at his own hand holding the gun...
"Barry?" Y/N's voice came from the door, and immediately woke up and shake those horrifying ideas from his mind.
"Here" He call from the couch and was careful enough to not look back and don't picture her covered in blood
"I'm so done, boy I'm glad you came upstairs, Amanda's mother is a pain in the ass, if she have seen you she would have called the cops or something" She said and sit in next of him, she was already wearing the heels she used to practice with him. "What you got there?" She said looking at the screen where the video of Janice was still on.
"Is the dance I'm supposed to do for the movie" He said glad to have something to said and he showed her the clip.
"Well... you are screwed" She said after it was finish and he gave her an imploring look. "I'm kidding, I mean is a monstrosity of showing off, and her technique is not perfect, but I'm pretty sure you can put together something, like Ed Sheeran on Thinking out loud". She said confidently.
"Who?" He asked with no idea of what she meant.
"He is a British singer, we are probably too old to know him, but couples come all the time trying to learn his routine for their wedding" She said, but his face was still puzzled "You are not very familiar with pop culture, for an actor living in L.A. I mean" She stood up and walked towards her kitchen "Do you want anything? I have wine, beer, orange juice?" She called from the other room.
"Beer is fine, and is because I only became an actor recently" He said with some embarrassment in his voice taking the bottleshe offered him "I used to amm... sell auto parts in Cleveland"
"Ohio, that's ... far" she said taking a sip of her drink.
"And before that I was a Marine" He add and she almost spit her beer but did her best to pass it down.
"Oh wow, that's unusual. I would definitely say thank you for your service, but I'm antiwar so what if I gave you a 10 percent off on the lessons and we call it even?" She grin at him
"Don't worry about that, I don't like to make a big deal about it anyway" He said sincerely "Also I'm pretty sure you are wasting your time with me"
"Don't be so harsh on yourself, here look" She took the laptop off his hands and found a video of a ginger man singing a cheezy song about eternal love "See he is not properly dancing, but he act like he is, so first you have to learn how to lead, come on take off your shoes"
"Take them off? Why?" He asked while she got rid off her heels and let her bare feet touch the wooden floor.
"Because, and I mean this with respect" She said standing and looking for a record to put in her old record player until she found one "You are huge, and I'm afraid you would step on me with those shoes" a slow rhythm start playing and he did what she asked and stood barefoot in front of her.
"That doesn't sound like the other songs" Although he like it.
"Because you have to learn to walk before you can run, now, put both of your hands on my hips" She said getting closer to him.
"Like this?" It was funny how without the heels she was way shorter and couldn't completely reach her neck so she settled for put both hands on his shoulders.
"Fine now listen to the music and move" She said moving her body rhythmically "There you go, now move me, lead, right or left, is your choice" She said letting him take small steps and occasionally looking down to watch his feet.
"This is not that bad actually" Barry was actually enjoying himself, then the music start going faster and she took his right hand on hers and pull away from him and he chose to ignore the feeling of lost that caused him.
"Now, the hand on my back has to be steady, and lead, we can spin" She said and taught him how "Or we can walk" She started walking back slowly letting him follow the steps at his own pace. "Is all about who is leading" She gave him a smile and they kept dancing until the music was ending and since he had confidence now he make her spin and catch her on his arm like Janice's partner did on the clip.
"Sorry I always wanted to try that" he said once she was standing next to him.
"It was great, you are getting it, now we can try to improve your actual steps, but we should go downstairs, my husband is about to comeback and he hates having music on when he is working" She put on her shoes again and walked out followed by Barry.
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jungkookiebus · 6 years ago
Text
Birthday Present (m)
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I just loved this performance therefore I like the gif :D
Genre: smut
Pairing: Reader x nonIdol!Jimin x nonIdol!Jungkook
Warnings: 18+, sexual content, oral (f & m receiving), double penetration, just a lot of sex really
Word count: 7.6k+
Happy birthday, @1luvpjm ;)
Jungkook was slow. He was testing the waters. He brought his lips down slowly to yours and you had forgotten how soft they were. After all these years, memories of him in that dark hallway came flooding back to you. You moaned into his kiss and he took the opportunity to grab your waist and pull you into him as he deepened the kiss. The only feeling you knew was Jimin; he was long, autumn evenings, sweaters too big for your arms, and snuggles under blankets while the snow fell outside. Jungkook was different; he was blazing summer days that burned into the night, sweat on your skin as you laid out in the August sun, and the rays of a sunset over sand.
“I hate this,” you murmur in a pout.
“Come on, babe, it’s just dinner.”
“With my parents,” you seethe.
It’s your birthday and this year your family was insistent that you had dinner at the fanciest restaurant they could get a VIP room for in your town. Last year you had forgone any celebrating with them to spend a weekend getaway with Jimin and if someone wanted to know if you regretted it, then they would have to get out their microscope; that is how much you actually did not care. Your family was conservative and notorious for conducting an inquisition each time you stepped foot into the house. That is why the moment you turned 18 you turned tail and ran as fast as you could in the opposite direction; to the other side of the country in fact. Two years later you met Jimin and after a year and a half of dating you moved in together. When your mother found out you swore you saw the mushroom cloud halfway across the country as her head exploded. Once they got it through their heads that you were staying together, their moods became an ambivalent lull. No amount of threatening worked because, after all, everything you had you paid for on your own. To have any financial ties to them would have proven disastrous so you worked your ass off since you moved out to make sure that never happened.
“It’ll be okay,” Jimin said as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.
“It will not, and you know it.”
“Look, you already know they’re going to question you, and probably me, but we’re prepared for it. It’s not like we’re going in blind, right?”
“I can deal with what they’ll throw at me, what I don’t want them doing is questioning you.”
“I can handle myself. I’ve done it before.” He cast a gentle smile at you as he continued to drive.
He was right. He had handled every question that your parents had ever given him with poise and grace. He’s currently in his residency at your local hospital with the hopes of becoming an ER doctor, so at least your parents weren’t giving him shit about that. It was the fact that Jimin grew up very poor that gave your parents a sense of entitlement. You had always hated that about them. You grew up rich, got everything you ever wanted, but the affection you ever received from your parents came in the form of money and privilege. So, when you met Jimin and felt actual, true love for the first time it almost sent you running, but his firm grip on your heart and your waist kept you in place. Four years later and you wouldn’t change anything about your relationship.
“I hope you’re right,” you mumble again.
“Stop pouting you’ll get wrinkles,” he laughed. You swatted him playfully on the shoulder. He managed to deflect your hand as you tried again, and he firmly grasped your wrist before moving to entwine your hands. “Besides, I have a surprise for you later.”
“Oh?”
He hummed lightly. “I hope you like it.”
“I’ll like anything you have for me.”
“Maybe.”
You were about to ask when his phone ringing interrupted your conversation.
“Ah,” he said as he looked at his phone. He swiped the screen and answered. “Hey, Jungkook.”
You watched his face to see if you could deduce what the conversation was about, but Jimin remained impassive as he muttered a few “mhms” and “yeps” here and there without saying a full sentence.
“What was that about?” you asked as he hung up. Jungkook has been friends with Jimin since early college. You had met Jungkook first at a bar that ended with you making out with him in a seedy hallway leading to the bathrooms. He introduced you to Jimin shortly after your steamy make-out session and the rest was history. Jungkook had never felt any ill will towards you once you started dating Jimin, thankfully, and you both became good friends instead. You knew deep down inside if you had not met Jimin you would have ended up dating Jungkook.
“He just needed to tell me something about work,” he said while putting his phone back into the console. Jungkook was currently working in orthopedics at the hospital but knew about the current drama happening in the ER. “Taehyung was fucking around again and got some files mixed up.”
Seemed likely enough. Your mind settled back on to the thousands of possible questions that your parents might ask you tonight.
“Quit thinking so hard,” Jimin said. He broke you from your reverie and you hadn’t realized that you had settled into a daze. “You also quit breathing.” He said it almost as if he were reading your mind.
You let out a long exhale and smiled. “It’s fine, everything is going to be fine.”
A few minutes later and you were pulling up outside of the restaurant. An attendee was already waiting curbside to take the keys and park the car.
“Good evening,” he smiled pleasantly. “Just take this tag with you and when you exit the restaurant give it to Ian over there at the podium; we’ll have your car pulled up right away.”
Jimin gave him a smile before sliding the tag into his pocket and taking your hand in his. You both started to walk to the doors, and you looked up to look at his profile. His jaw was set, and his eyes were bright, and you felt a sense of relief when you looked at him. When you were with him, anything was possible, and you could defeat the biggest demons in your life. At that moment he looked down at you and grinned the most breathtaking grin that didn’t quite make his eyes disappear so you could see them sparkle as he looked at you.
“I love you. We’re going to be okay,” he assured you as he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before opening the door for you.
A quick mention of your family’s name and the hostess was escorting you to the back of the already extremely ornate restaurant to an even more ornate private room in the back. You groaned inwardly as you saw not only your parents, but your grandparents and siblings as well. This was an unpleasant surprise. Your parents got the stick up their ass from your grandparents and, well, your siblings weren’t any better. Both had married into rich families themselves and held extremely profitable stock market jobs.
Jimin bowed low at the waist as you both entered. Your mother immediately stood up from her chair.
“Oh, _____, you look so beautiful!” she beamed, but behind her smile you saw the truth. Your dress didn’t come from the best boutique in town, nor was your hair done at a salon before you came. She was judging every bit of you in those few seconds. “And Jimin! You look as handsome as always!”
You watched as she took in his suit, which was not cheap, and pushed back black hair. He had at least run a brush through it before he left, but it definitely was not styled. You stared at the side of her face and almost dared her to say something. Pleasantries were exchanged amongst all of you and before you knew it you were seated in between Jimin and your youngest brother. To give your youngest brother some benefit, he also thought your parents were full of shit, but he 100% inherited their entitlement. You looked over at him as he gave you a tight smile as if saying, I don’t want to be here as much as you do.
“So, _______, what have you been up to as of late? How are your studies going? Still in English?”
And so it began. Your parents were furious when they found out you were majoring in Early Modern Literature. You had graduated with your Masters, and were currently working on your Doctorate, but that meant nothing to them; nothing good could come from being a Doctor of English.
“Yes, I’m currently writing my theses on the aesthetics of sin,” you said with confidence.
Jimin gave your knee an encouraging squeeze as your mom nearly spit her wine back into her glass.
She cleared her throat as she dabbed at her nearly perfect face. You saw through that mask of makeup and the way she was inside marred any beauty she once had.
“That’s lovely, dear,” she said with as much enthusiasm as an undertaker.
“What are you planning to do with it?” your grandfather piped in.
“I’ll teach on the University level, of course. If I stay there long enough, I can get tenured on to that staff and hopefully move on to full professorship.”
He huffed as if it were all a load of bull. You seethed on the inside and sensing it, Jimin gave your leg a squeeze before speaking. “She’s been working extremely hard on it. I’m proud of her.”
Your oldest brother rolled his eyes and you had to resist the urge not to launch yourself across the table and punch him in his face.
“How is your residency?” your father asked Jimin.
“It’s going well, sir. In a few months I’ll be finished up and I will begin my fellowship.”
“ER medicine if I remember correctly?”
“Correct, sir.”
Jimin was all politeness and formality when it came to your family. He didn’t want to give you any more reason for grief other than what your family would say.
“I’m sure you’ll find a good job here in Busan. They have many prestigious hospitals in the area.”
“That’s the plan, sir.”
“What do you think of ______ being a professor?” your older brother asked. You and your youngest brother visibly tensed at the question. If Jimin were uncomfortable he showed no signs.
“I think it’s wonderful. She’s pursuing her passion and doing it well.” He paused to smile down at you and give your hand a gentle squeeze. “I would never ask her to be any different.”
That’s when your mother asked the question that sent varying feelings flying under the door and out into the restaurant.
“Isn’t it a shame though? That she didn’t use her talents and knowledge on anything better?”
Your mouth gaped open so far that you were sure some of the bread you had just bitten into fell out. Your brother next to you breathed out fast in exasperation as if saying, Here we go. Your dad’s facial expression was placid as if saying he thought the same thing but wasn’t going to bring it up until after dessert.
“Mom…,” you said lowly. You were about to placate her, defend yourself, anything to have this dinner go as smooth as possible so you could run out at the end.
You felt the anger roiling off Jimin. His hand grew heated in yours and his jaw clenched imperceptibly as your gazed slowly dragged to his face.
“With all due respect, ma’am,” he emphasized the ma’am as if say he were still being polite while throwing a silent ‘fuck you’ in her face, “_____ is doing exactly what she set out to do. Her talents and her knowledge are being used exactly where they need to be and if you can’t deal with that then you can go fuck yourself.”
It was your turn to choke on the wine you were currently chugging out of your glass. Your brother next to you broke out into a chortled laugh he was momentarily trying to keep in. Your father stood from his chair.
“What did you just say?!” he shouted down to Jimin.
Jimin remained as passive as ever as he looked at your father.
“I said, you can go fuck yourself. All of you. You think you’re so…so entitled that you can sit here and berate your own child about her passions? Did you ever once think that the way you demean her could have some long-lasting effect on her life? Probably not!” he said throwing up his hands. “Because all you fucking do is think about yourself. I was going to sit here and be civilized.” He stood up from his chair in that moment. “But you know what? Civility went out the window the moment you let her go at 18 without a care in the world how she ended up. So, all of you,” he said as he gestured to everyone around the table, “can go fuck yourselves.”
You were still in your seat in shock with your brother openly laughing next to you now. Tears streamed down his face as he began to clap. “This is the best dinner I’ve been to in years.”
“Oh, shut up, Woosung, you’re just as bad as the rest of us,” your oldest brother spat at him.
Jimin grabbed your hand and quickly pulled you up from your chair and towards the door. Jimin paused with his hand on the handle before turning back around to the scene before him. Your dad was still standing, red in the face, your mother wasn’t much different; and Woosung was still laughing as he casually sipped his wine.
“And you might be her father, but when we’re at home she calls me daddy.”
Woosung spit the red wine he was drinking all over the tablecloth and your brother. Your father made a move towards Jimin, but your mom grabbed his sleeve before he could go any further.
Jimin quickly pulled you from the room, through the restaurant, and out the front door. He pulled the tag from his pocket and handed it to the attendant. “Make it quick, Ian.”
Seeing that Jimin was in no joking mood, he quickly sprinted off into the adjacent parking lot.
“What the fuck!?” you laughed out when you finally found your voice.
Jimin turned to you in surprise. You immediately squished both of his cheeks between your hands before you landed a wet kiss on his lips.
“That was the best birthday present I could ever ask for,” you said while drawing back from his face.
“It was hardly a present,” he mumbled through his squished lips, “and it needed to be said anyhow.”
“I love you, you know that right?”
For what felt like an eternity you gazed in one another’s eyes. A cool breeze lifted your hair and tickled the apples of Jimin’s cheeks and in that precious, single moment he saw the whole world in your eyes. Every hopeless thought he ever had was banished at that moment and he felt like his heart would flare inside his chest and burn out like a dying star. In your eyes he saw every good memory, every good morning kiss, fight in a rainstorm, and Sunday morning drives to the coast.
“I love you, _____,” he whispered.
Your reverie was broken when the attendant parked your car alongside the curb and stepped out.
“Your car, sir.”
“Thank you,” Jimin said as he handed the man a tip.
“Now let’s get you home for that surprise.”
“What is it exactly?”
“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you. I need to text someone really quick.” He proceeded to send a quick text before buckling in and putting the car in drive. You were scarcely out of the driveway when you turned to see your family falling out of the front door in a heaving mass of angry faces and flailing limbs. Your father was shouting at your mother and your youngest brother was clearly sloshed with the amount of wine he had been chugging. Both grandparents looked as if they’d rather be anywhere else but there. With a silent laugh to yourself you turned back to Jimin to grab his hand for the duration of the ride home.
When you arrived home, you inhaled the familiar scent as soon as you crossed the threshold. All the soft lamps that you had left on before you had gone left the house in a warm, inviting glow. You quickly pulled off the heels you had dug out of the recesses of your closet and tossed them with the other shoes by the door.
“I’m starving,” you said as you made your way to the kitchen. “Should have saved your ‘fuck yous’ until at least after the appetizer.”
Jimin laughed as he came into the kitchen with you munching down on a granola bar you had found in the cabinet.
“The opportunity arose, and I took it, babe,” he said as he shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair.
“What’s the surprise?” you asked between chews. “Because I’m starting to think it was you going off on my parents.”  
Jimin laughed nervously as he scratched the back of his head. You started to get nervous.
“Jimin?”
“Uh, remember when we talked about our fantasies?”
You wracked your brain to remember the entirety of that conversation. A lot of what you had discussed had been some run-of-the-mill stuff.
“Yea…”
“What was one of the things you wanted to try the most?”
“…a threesome?”
Jimin continued to rub his neck.
“…Jimin? What’s going on?”
“Do you trust me?”
You gulped loudly.
“I, uh, set up a surprise for you. Something that you wanted. I’m going to talk to you about it here because if you’re uncomfortable I want you to say so…”
All you could do was stare and hold your breath.
“I asked Jungkook if he’d like to join us.”
The granola wrapper fell from your hand as you choked on the dry fragments of the bar.
“Excuse me?” you said between tears.
“Oh god, this was a terrible idea,” he said putting his head in his hands.
“I didn’t say that, but why would you want to do this?”
“It’s something you wanted to do.”
“Yea but are you comfortable with this. Jungkook is your best friend.”
Jimin beamed at you then. “That’s why I asked him and not just some random stranger. I trust Jungkook and I trust you.”
“And he’s okay with this?”
“Of course. It goes without saying that he loves both of us. When I first asked him, he was a little surprised that I’d share.” You emphatically nodded at that; thinking the same thing. “But if this is something you want, I feel comfortable sharing you with Jungkook.”
“I’m only okay with this if you’re 100% sure this is something you can do,” you said finally.
“I’m more than okay, ______,” he said as he walked around the counter to you.
He lazily put his hands on your hips and brought his lips down to your ear.
“Besides,” he whispered, “I’ve always kinda wanted to see you get fucked by someone besides me.”
A shiver ran from the top of your head and all the way down to your toes. You let out a shaky breath as Jimin placed a kiss to the soft spot below your ear.
“So, if you’re okay with this, Jungkook is already here and waiting in our room.”
So that is why Jungkook called earlier and he was probably the one Jimin texted when your dinner was cut short. He took your hand and slowly led you down the hallway to your room. From your vantage point you saw that the soft bedside light was on inside. Nervousness laced through your veins along with a tinge of excitement. You had only ever known Jungkook as a friend except for when you first met. Ever since Jimin, you had never given Jungkook a second thought. Yes, he was overly attractive and so nice that he would give the clothes off his back, but as a sexual thought in your mind? No. You froze midway to the door. Jimin turned back to look at you.
“Is everything okay?” He took in the frightened look on your face.
“What if this changes things? Maybe we should ask a stranger.”
Jimin quickly gathered you into his arms. “Jungkook and I have already discussed this at length. If anything, I’m worried you might like him more.”
“That’s bullshit,” your words muffled in his chest. You felt him vibrate at his small chuckle.
“Good to know. Come on.” He led you the rest of the way to the door before slowly pushing it open.
Jungkook lounged nonchalantly on your shared bed as he scrolled through his phone.
“Shit hit the fan at dinner?” His eyebrows raised as he looked you both up and down. You appreciated his comfortable banter.
“You could say that,” Jimin said as he loosened the tie at his neck. “I’ll spare you the details for later. You’ll find it highly entertaining.”
You stood stock still and fiddled with the pocket on your dress.
“You okay, _____?” Jungkook asked.
Your nervous sigh came out a little stuttered. With that Jungkook rose from the bed and walked up to you. You side glanced nervously in Jimin’s direction, but he chuckled as he turned from you and continued to undo the cufflinks on his sleeve. Jungkook was standing before you casually dressed in a white t-shirt and dark jeans. His shoes were off. Were his boots at the door and you missed them? Jungkook raised his hand tentatively to place his open palm on your cheek.
“Relax, ______. We’ll take care of you,” he smiled.
You shouldn’t have been as turned on by that as you were. It would certainly take you a minute or two to warm up to this, however.
“I trust you,” you whispered. You licked your lips nervously and cast your eyes downward. When you looked back up again, he was staring at your now wet bottom lip.
“Can I kiss her, hyung?” he asked the question while still looking at you. You were too petrified to look elsewhere as you heard a distant ‘go ahead’ in answer.
Jungkook was slow. He was testing the waters. He brought his lips down slowly to yours and you had forgotten how soft they were. After all these years, memories of him in that dark hallway came flooding back to you. You moaned into his kiss and he took the opportunity to grab your waist and pull you into him as he deepened the kiss. The only feeling you knew was Jimin; he was long, autumn evenings, sweaters too big for your arms, and snuggles under blankets while the snow fell outside. Jungkook was different; he was blazing summer days that burned into the night, sweat on your skin as you laid out in the August sun, and the rays of a sunset over sand.
You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer. Did this feel wrong? A nagging thought at the back of your mind made you think this was very wrong, but with Jimin in the room and approving pushed that thought farther back in your mind. Jungkook grabbed the hair close to your nape to pull your head back so he could deepen the kiss further. It was about that time that you felt a pair of familiar hands settle firmly on your hips. You felt Jimin’s plush lips kiss down the side of your neck and to your shoulder.
“Go gentle on her, Jungkook,” he said between kisses.
You broke away from the kiss long enough to say, “What if I don’t want him to be gentle?”
“I always knew you were a dirty slut,” Jungkook said as he pulled your hair back harder to place a bruising kiss right below your jawline.
“You don’t have to make the marks so obvious,” Jimin said sternly from behind you.
Jungkook almost looked sheepish when he looked at Jimin. “Sorry, hyung.”
Jimin grabbed the zipper at the back of your dress and slowly unzipped it.
“Watch as I undress her, Kook,” he said to the man in front of him.
Jungkook took a step back to admire what Jimin was doing. You quickly cast your eyes downward as his hands moved to your shoulders to push the dress off. He placed his hand under your chin to bring your face back up.
“Look at Kook, baby.”
Your eyes connected with Jungkook’s and within them you saw a thousand fires; his pupils were blown wide with lust as he gazed at you. He sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth as Jimin slowly started to slide your dress off your shoulders. You instinctively rubbed your thighs together when a moan came out of both men at what you had on underneath. You thanked the heavens above for having selected actual lingerie when you got dressed today. The soft pink lace of your bra was slowly revealed and as Jimin pulled it lower they caught glimpse of the matching panties and garters that held your stockings.
“God baby, did you know about this surprise after all?” Jimin moaned as he pulled one of the garter straps and let it snap back against your skin.
Your breath hitched as he palmed your ass through the panties. “N-no.”
“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook breathed out. His cock was now very prominent in his tight jeans.
“Let’s put on a show for him, shall we?” Jimin said as his left arm came across your chest and held you firmly against him.
He slowly let his right hand graze over your breast, sending goosebumps in its wake, and making you stand out against the thin, fabric lace. A small moan escaped you as he let his fingers graze the skin of your stomach and to the waistband of your panties. You pushed your thighs together as he began to slide his hand underneath.
“Uh-uh, baby. Spread ‘em,” Jimin breathed into your neck.
Your body obeyed instantly. Jimin moaned in approval as he moved his hand to the outside of your panties instead. He slowly rubbed his hand over you as you whimpered.
“What do you want?” Jimin asked.
A sudden thought flashed in your mind. “I want Jungkook to control your movements.”
You looked across to Jungkook who cocked an eyebrow as he palmed himself over his pants. Before you could blink, he was unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out while sitting on the edge of the bed. He began stroking himself as he said ‘gladly’ in such a dark tone you were practically soaking your panties.
“Okay, Kook, you’re in charge now,” Jimin said as he stopped all movement.
“Hold her still, but play with her nipples first,” Jungkook said. You watched him languidly stroke himself as he watched you through hooded eyes.
Jimin brought his right hand up again to tweak the nearest nipple through the fabric of your bra. You arched your back into his touch when he slid the right side of your bra down to expose your skin to the air. Your nipples hardened even more as the cool air skated across your chest.
“Take her bra off.”
Jimin knew this bra, thankfully, as he reached over and undid the front clasp. He took his hand away momentarily to slide it off your shoulders and discarded it to the side before pulling you flush to his chest again.
“Such beautiful tits. No one wonder you’ve kept her around for so long, Chim.”
“She has other beautiful assets as well, Jungkook,” he said pointedly while placing a kiss to your shoulder. He had meant it to sound harsh, but it didn’t come out that way as he was suddenly distracted by your now bare chest.
“I’m only kidding. I know she’s perfect in many ways.”
“You almost sound like you’re in love with her, Kook.”
“I was the first person to make out with her if we’re on the subject of people in this room.”                                                                                                                    
“Watch yourself,” Jimin said lowly.
You wanted to be touched. Badly. “Okay, boys, let’s get back to the matter at hand.”
“So needy,” Jungkook said from his place on the bed. “Play with her tits some more.”
This time Jimin used both of his hands on you. He kneaded both in his hands before pinching and pulling harshly on your nipples. You cried out as you breathed heavily against Jimin’s hands.
“Do you like that ______?” Jungkook asked.
All you could do was let out a soft moan as Jimin continued to assault your breasts.
“Answer him,” Jimin said as he delivered a particularly harsh twist to one of your nipples.
“Ah, fuck! Yes! I love it!”
“Fuck, hyung. Touch her pussy.”
You sighed heavily. This is exactly what you wanted. Chills followed Jimin’s touch as he let hand his trail down your stomach once more and to the thin lace covering you. He took a moment to undo the straps of the garters, slide your panties down to your ankles and toss them aside with your bra. He made his way back up to touch you once again. Shivers ran through your body in anticipation.
“Don’t tease her,” Jungkook said darkly.
“As you wish,” Jimin murmured.
He bit harshly into your shoulder as he brought his fingers to your clit and started to rub circles on you. Jimin felt like the was trying to tell an entire story in that moment. His left arm was braced firmly across your chest as he held on tightly to your right shoulder. You felt his mouth, open, and breathing hotly against the side of your face as his ministrations on your clit sped up. Your head was thrown back against his shoulder as his fingers deftly brought you to the place only Jimin could take you.
“That’s it, baby,” he breathed against your cheek.
“Fuuuck, Jimin.”
You dared to look at Jungkook in that moment. Sweat had his hair stuck to his forehead as he furiously pumped his cock at the sight of you coming undone under Jimin’s touch.
“God, Kook, I think you made her more wet. If that were even possible.”
Jimin began placing hot kisses along your neck and shoulders. He was soon biting harsh bruises into the junction between the two that left you writhing even more. His left hand was surely leaving a bruise at this point with the way he was holding you firmly against him while you continued to lose function of your legs.
“I want to taste her.”
“Do you want that, baby?” Jimin whispered hotly in your ear.
“God, yes. I want it so bad, Jimin.”
Jimin lifted his hand away from you and brought his fingers to your mouth.
“Open up.”
He slowly slid two fingers in your mouth. You took your time wrapping your lips around his fingers tightly before sucking them both clean; his fingers coming out of your mouth with an audible pop. Jungkook was removing all his clothing when Jimin let go of you.
“Go lay on the bed,” Jimin demanded in an even tone.
You lay horizontally on the bed as Jungkook loomed over you looking at you hungrily while Jimin undressed elsewhere in the room. A small yelp escaped you as Jimin grabbed you underneath your arms and pulled you to the edge of the bed, effectively hanging your head off the edge and face to face with his cock. Below, you felt Jungkook crawling onto the bed as he hooked his arms around your thighs. You felt his hot breath on your skin as he lightly kissed the inside of your thigh and made his way to where you wanted him the most.
“Jungkook, please,” you whimpered.
“What do you want him to do?” Jimin whispered from above you.
“I want him to fuck me with his mouth.”
“You heard the lady.”
“And who am I to deny her?” Jungkook asked the rhetorical question before licking hole to clit.
Your body involuntarily shook when his tongue started to make deft circles around your clit. His fingers tightened their grip on the junction between your hips and thighs as he brought his face deeper into your pussy, bringing you to new heights. You could have sworn he was composing a song with the way his mouth was moving on you. Jimin was no stranger to eating you out, and he did it well, but where Jimin was slow and thoughtful, Jungkook was trying to bring you to the edge as fast as possible. At that moment Jimin took that opportunity to tap your lips.
“Open up,” he said, cock already in hand. From your current position he was able to slip his cock easily into your mouth, swallowing as he hit the back of your throat.
“God dammit if you swallow like that I’m going to cum here and now.”
Below you, Jungkook slid two fingers inside of you and immediately curved them upwards, thrusting them in perfect timing with his tongue. You let a long, drawn out moan around Jimin’s cock. His body jerked in reaction and he caught himself by his hands on either side of your torso.
“Can I fuck your mouth?” he asked as he looked below even though you were unable to see him. You tapped his thigh twice to give him the go ahead. He continued looking so that he could see his cock disappearing into your mouth as he started to slowly thrust into your mouth. One look at Jungkook, however, had his pace in your mouth speeding up.
“Fuck, baby, do you know how hot it is to see Jungkook eating you out?” You moaned around his cock as he continued to let it hit the back of your throat with each thrust. “How does she taste?”
Jungkook looked as equally as fucked out when took a deep inhale of air that he wasn’t aware he was depriving himself of when he pulled off you enough to answer Jimin.
“The sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever tasted.” His face glistened with how wet you were. He didn’t wait a second beat before he was diving back in between your legs. You could feel in the pit of your stomach that you were going to cum soon; your thighs tensed around Jungkook’s head as he continued his ministrations on your now engorged clit, his fingers still thrusting inside of you.
Jimin pulled out of you and kneeled on the floor in front of your face. Your throat was on fire and your face was wet where drool had started to collect and slide out of the corners of your mouth. He took both thumbs to wipe the spit from your mouth but left the tears that continued to stream out of the corners of your eyes. You could cry from how good Jungkook was making you feel.
“Are you going to cum in Jungkook’s mouth baby?”
“Oh god I want to so bad, Jimin,” you moaned.
“Are you going to let her cum, Kook?”
Jungkook moaned in agreement and your back arched as the vibrations pulsed across your clit.
Jimin brought his face to yours. “Look at me.”
Through your lust filled haze you managed to open your eyes and look into his.
“Concentrate on Kook and my words, baby.”
Your mouth fell open in a silent consent.
“Does his mouth feel good on you? I want you to cum for both of us, _____, then we’re both going to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Would you like that, baby? Have both of our cocks inside of you? I bet you would, wouldn’t you? You’re such a cockslut.”
Your orgasm was fast approaching and Jungkook could tell as you continued to arch your back and hold it there in a rigid tension of muscles as you willed your release to fall over the edge. He gave a few harsh sucks to your clit before you were cumming so hard your eyes were rolling back into your head. You heard Jungkook’s drawn out moan as you finally reached your high. Jimin caught your moans with his mouth as he brought it down on yours to kiss you firmly as you came in Jungkook’s mouth. He slowly pulled his fingers from you and you could hear as he sucked each one clean.  
“God that was fucking hot,” he said as he up righted himself on the bed.
You felt yourself being jerked in the other direction as Jungkook wrapped his hands around your calves.
“Sorry, Chim, I gotta feel her real quick.”
Before you knew it, he was thrusting his cock to the hilt inside of you. You cried out in pain, pleasure, and overstimulation. He had barely given you enough time to come down from your orgasm when he started to thrust inside of you harshly.
“Yes, you’re just as fucking tight around my cock as I imagined.”
You looked up to appreciate the sheen of sweat that was covering Jungkook’s body now. In the low lights of the room, it cast an attractive highlight to every muscle he had. His mouth hung open as he held one of your legs to his chest and watched his cock disappear inside of you. Surprise overtook you when he pulled out, his cock red and throbbing.
“I just wanted to feel that for a minute,” he breathed out in a small laugh.
Jimin got onto the bed and propped himself against the pillows. “She feels great, huh?”
“Better than expected.”
“Hey,” you laughed, “what is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t worry about it, baby,” Jungkook said as he reached to help you into a sitting position.
“Come here, ______,” Jimin said tapping in the general area of his lap. “I want you to ride me.”
You got up shakily and as well as your legs would carry you across the bed as you crawled to him.
“Are you okay?” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear.
“Great,” you smiled as you briefly kissed him. You positioned yourself above his cock, holding it firmly in your hand before sinking down on him. His head fell back against the headboard as he bottomed out inside of you. A small sigh escaped your lips at the familiar feeling of him. Jimin was home; Jimin was love and it was a completely different feeling from Jungkook. Knowing exactly what you and Jimin both liked, you leaned back carefully, placing both hands on his thighs before setting a rhythm with your hips. He kept a firm grasp on your hips to help you bounce on his cock.
“You look so fucking good like this, baby.”
“Yea? You like it when I fuck you like this?” You let your head fall to the side as you looked for Jungkook. He was stroking himself again as he watched you ride Jimin. “I want you to kiss me again, Jungkook.”
Jungkook didn’t even hesitate as he brought is hand to the back of your head and melded his lips with yours. You were both tongue and teeth as he held you there while still rubbing his cock.
Jungkook pulled away from you after a moment. “I have kind of a weird question.”
You slowed your hips on Jimin and in turn Jimin looked at Jungkook inquisitively.
“Do you like anal?”
You laughed out loud and Jimin’s eyes disappeared in a full face smile.
“She fucking loves anal, dude.”
Jungkook outwardly moaned. “Fuck I’m so glad I agreed to this.”
“Look in the bedside drawer,” Jimin said as he motioned his head towards it. Jungkook pulled it open and saw what Jimin must have been talking about. He pulled the lube out and tossed it onto the bed beside you.
Jimin shimmied himself down off the pillows, taking you with him. He pulled you to his chest to kiss you as passionately as possible, but it ended up being a messy, lust filled kiss that found no cadence. You rocked your hips slowly into him as you kissed along his jaw and then sucked his earlobe between your teeth. You felt your ass being spread in Jungkook’s firm hands.
“Such a pretty ass.”
You gasped when you felt his tongue on you. Slow and tentative he pushed it inside. When you didn’t resist or object, he continued a little more aggressively, especially when you moaned in contentment. This man could eat ass as well as he could eat pussy. Before you could get too into it, he was pulling away again. You heard the distinctive pop of lube being opened then the cool touch of Jungkook’s finger along the rim. He experimentally pushed one finger in. Your head came up a fraction from Jimin as you moaned.
“Having both holes filled is going to be the best feeling,” you groaned.
“I’m having the hardest time not fucking you into next week right now,” Jimin said. “Stop talking like that and let Kook prep you.”
“Yes, sir,” you said with a slight smirk.
Jungkook took that opportunity to bring his hand down hard on your ass cheek.
“Fuck!” you yelled.
“Listen to Jimin, _____.”
More lube was placed on you as he added another finger. He slowly moved them in and out, letting you adjust to the intrusion. He scissored them slightly, creating room for himself. You tried to stifle your moans but were unsuccessful as Jimin started placing small, kitten kisses along your jaw and neck.
“You keep clenching around me. It’s so hard for me not to fucking ruin you with my cock. I want to fuck you so badly that you’d be crying loud enough for the neighbors to hear.”
Jungkook added a third finger.
“And then every time they see you in the hallway all they’ll be able to think about is how you love to be fucked by multiple cocks.”
Jungkook’s thrusts were becoming harsher, but all you could feel was pleasure.
“I’m ready, Jungkook,” you breathed out.
His fingers disappeared and you felt the bed dip low as he kneeled behind you. The tip of his cock was at your ass and you arched your back even more to ease his entrance. Slowly, he slid inside inch by inch until he was bottomed out inside of you. All three of you let out a collective moan. Jimin started to move first, setting a rhythm before Jungkook joined him. Together, they set a punishing rhythm that had you writhing between them. Before long, you were all limbs, sweat, and breaths between heartbeats. Jungkook was leaning over you, raining kisses along your shoulders, while Jimin’s fingers bruised into you hips. Both were whispering praises to you that fell on deaf ears for everyone. You were one, but separated, each feeling their own sensation in the moment. The room was hot and heavy, the smell of sex lingered in your nose. The hot drip of Jungkook’s sweat fell between your shoulder blades and ran down your back, intermingling with your own. Jimin’s plush, pillow lips were opened in ecstasy as he fucked up into you. It was all so much, and you felt your next orgasm mounting again.
“She’s going to cum soon,” Jimin choked out. He knew your body and he knew it well. You had no voice any more; you were doing well to stay conscious. “When she cums, that’s it. She won’t be able to go much longer.”
“Good thing I’m close,” you heard Jungkook grunt out behind you.
A few more thrusts from both and your vision blacked out as your orgasm hit in one heavy wave.
“That’s it, baby. Cum all over my cock.”
“Fuck,” you whimpered as your orgasm increased tenfold with both still thrusting inside of you.
“Dammit.” You felt Jungkook pull out of you and moments later warm cum landed on your ass. He groaned loudly behind you as his forehead came to rest on the middle of your back.
“Move, Kook,” you heard Jimin growl.
He was fast. As soon as Jungkook was out of the way Jimin had you thrown onto your back and was pounding into you so hard you were sure you blacked out again. Before too long you felt him cum inside of you before he released his full body weight on top of you.
Your ears roared with the silence that now filled the room. The only sounds were heavy breathing that slacked into shorter breaths as everyone collected themselves. Jimin groaned as he pulled out of you and flopped to the side. Jungkook was a hand’s width away from you on the other side.
“Well,” Jungkook broke the silence. “I can definitively say this is the most fun I’ve had in a while…and the best sex.”
You snorted as Jimin laughed.
“Don’t get used to it, buddy,” Jimin said as he laid his arm across his eyes.
“Damn.”
“That…was a great birthday present. Really. Thanks to both of you,” you said when you were finally able to catch your breath. “I’m just sad that I need to change these sheets before I can go to sleep.”
Both men laughed out loud.
“I’m staying here, right?” Jungkook asked.
“Yea, I fixed the spare up for you earlier,” Jimin answered. “You know where everything is.”
Jungkook rolled over to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. “Happy birthday, ______.”
You looked over to see him smiling brightly. “Thank you, Jungkook.” You placed your palm on his cheek affectionately before he rolled off the bed, gathered his clothes and went to the door.
“See you guys in the morning.”
“G’night, Kook,” Jimin yawned next to you.
Once he was gone from the room you rolled over to Jimin and placed your arm over his waist.
“I love you.”
His lifted his arm from his eyes to look at you. “I love you, too. Enjoyed yourself?”
“Very much.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Oh, I know,” you laughed.
The next morning both men woke up early, struggling to find a way to hide a ring in a stack of pancakes.
Please do not repost. 
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ad1thi · 6 years ago
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just(?) friends
this is a mash up of a university/modern au, with no powers
//
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
//
Tony had this, it wasn’t a thing.
(it was a thing)
but it was a -
Jim described it best, Steve decided, back when Steve and Tony had just met and the friendship had been new.
“Tony does this thing,” Jim had said over a cup of coffee, “where he, he falls in love with his friends.”
Steve wasn’t quite sure what was wrong with that, which must’ve shown in his expression because Jim went on.
“Look he’s demisexual and demiromantic, and he’s not- he’s not had the easiest life. So whenever someone’s nice to him, just honest to god nice to him, he falls in love with them. It happened with me back at MIT, which lead to this whole gay panic that’s a story for another time, it happened with Pepper after she hired herself as his PA, and it happened with Gamora two years ago which was this whole thing because she identifies as an alien and nobody understands it but its just one of those things that we go along with.”
He took in this deep breath, “Look it’s just one of those things. Tony falls for everyone, his heart is huge; and if that’s going to weird you out then it’s best you leave now, because I promise you - none of us will stand for you hurting him.”
And then Jim left a crisp 100 dollar bill and walked out of the coffee shop, leaving Steve with the distinct feeling that he was suddenly 4 foot nothing and pre pubescent again.
--
Except, it didn’t really happen the way Jim said it would; because it’s been 5 years and Steve is so in love with Tony he thinks that he might die from it.
and Tony?
Tony’s currently in love with Tiberius Stone,
--
and Rumiko Fujikawa,
--
and now it’s James fucking Barnes, and isn’t that just a complete shitshow?
Hell, Tony was infatuated by Sam for a few months before Jim hit him on the head and said stop making eyes at my boyfriend asshole and he snapped out of it.
--
but never Steve.
--
Tony had this thing where he literally loved everyone and fell hopelessly in love with everyone he met,
except Steve.
which was fine, because Steve was arguably the most important person in Tony’s life (after Jim and Virginia but they didn’t count) and that was good enough for Steve. 
(it wasn’t good enough for Steve)
--
“It’s not really his choice,” Virginia had explained as they walked through MoMA, “but he’s had a really bad past you know.”
“And he just, he’s so starved for comfort that he takes it in any form he gets, and he returns it tenfold, like he’s scared he’ll lose it.”
Steve never begrudged Tony a hug, and always made sure to hold his hand, or kiss his cheek, or just simply smile every time Tony looked his way.
“And I’ll be honest, at first I thought it was just an infatuation too, I mean nobody falls in love that quickly and that much do they?”
“But Tony’s heart really is that big.”
Steve always made sure to sincerely thank Tony, to never cancel plans and he had the ringer for Tony’s number turned up to volumes even Bucky’s wasn’t.
“but that doesn’t mean any of us will stand to have it broken.”
--
Steve never really put much stock into what Jim and Virginia said until he saw it in action.
Dimly, he knew about Tiberius and Rumiko, but they were separate from Tony and Steve’s lives- and Steve could pretend they didn’t really exist and were just passing fads.
But the day Tony fell for Bucky, that’s when it really hit Steve.
--
Nobody knew about how Steve felt, even after 5 years. 
The only person Steve would’ve told was Buck- and he was overseas shooting at people in his super-secret exclusive merc job that Steve refused to join because im done killing people Buck.
The super-secret exclusive part of the job made it hard for Steve to catch him up on everything in Steve’s life, and Tony -
Tony wasn’t someone who could be explained, he had to be experienced.
--
So Steve picks him up for the airport, clinging to him for a good 5 minutes before he starts (not so) scrupulously scanning him for injuries or bullet wounds or -
“Stevie knock it off I’m fine,” Buck pushes at his forehead until he looks up, and thrusts the duffle bag at him, “I was in France not Iraq I told you this a million times.”
“Twice,” Steve says on instinct, before moving back to avoid Buck’s swatting hands and walking towards the car, “Did France fry your braincells?”
 “Still got more than -,” Buck whistles lowly when he sees the car, “Damn Steve who you fucking for this?”
Steve furiously tamps down on the blush from the idea of fucking Tony and says, “I told you, he’s a platonic patron, and he’s one of my really good friends. Get in, we’re going to see Tony anyway.”
And he sees the way Buck’s eyes focus on Tony’s ass before he turns away from Virginia to greet them; the way Tony’s eyes glint when he takes in Bucky in his full form.
So he nods and says “yes I’m sure,” when Bucky asks in a low voice, “you sure its just platonic Stevie?”
--
Once he sees it though, he can’t unsee it.
Tony and Bucky fall together within a matter of weeks, and Steve-
Steve has to admit that he’s wrong,
because Tony really does fall in love that easily and quickly,
and it’s impossible to miss.
The way his eyes light up everytime Bucky’s around, the way he croons James that does ridiculous things to Steve (which is so irrational because its not even his name but Tony’s voice), the way he’s always in contact with Bucky- holding his hand, brushing against his leg, leaning his back against his chest and on one memorable occasion, intertwining their pinkies.
and Bucky clearly cares about him too because in all the years that Steve has known him he’s never known Bucky to look at someone the way he looks at Tony.
--
“Thank you,” Buck says one day, apropos of nothing; when they’re sitting across from the pool at Tony’s 4th of July Party.
“For the beer?” Steve asks, “Buck I’ve been bringing you stuff for the past 20 years if you start thanking now we’ll be here forever.”
Buck shakes his head and gestures his bottle towards Tony and Steve’s throat feels like its going to close up permanently.
“For him,” Bucky says, and his voice is unbearably fond, “I’d have never met him without you.”
“I’m gonna marry him, somebody Stevie, and I owe everything to you” he slaps Steve’s shoulder and walks over to Tony; putting his hand around his waist and pressing his lips to Tony’s smile.
Steve presses the bottle to his lips and drinks until his heartbeat is back to normal and says to no-one, “You have no idea.”
--
He’s drunk and he’s spiteful and he’s hurting so much, and that’s what makes him turn to Buck a couple of nights later and say, “Tony does this thing where he falls in love with his friends. I’ve seen it happen with Tiberius and Rumiko, I’ve heard about it from Jim and Virginia.”
“But it never sticks.”
--
The next morning when he wakes up, the first thing he remembers with stunning clarity is Bucky’s downcast face and he feels like such an ass.
He scrambles around the bed for his phone, to call Bucky and apologize, but before he can unlock it- there’s a message on his screen from Tony.
Tony: You and me? We’re done.
Steve just about makes it to the bathroom before he heaves last night’s content into the bowl, 
and then he collapses against the wall,
and,
cries.
--
tbc
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feitclub · 4 years ago
Text
In The Cards
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It all started with James Bond, the arbiter of worldliness and all things cool when I was just a kid stuck in suburbia. The movies were frequently shown on TV and I made it a point to watch them all over and over again. One of my early favorites was Live and Let Die: the theme song kicked ass, it was Roger Moore's first film so he would never look more handsome, and the movie was full of straight-up magic. The bad guys have a fortune teller on their side, and she can seemingly see everything James Bond will do, even from a great distance. The key to her abilities, aside from her being a virgin (which Bond *ahem* takes care of) was her use of tarot cards. Drawing randomly from this special deck of cards, she could literally see the past, the present, and the future.
I had never heard of tarot cards before but I knew I wanted them. I could not have been older than 12.
When I got my hands on a deck, likely from a book store at the mall, there was an instant level of disappointment. The tarot cards in the Live and Let Die had a very specific look to them, and I had presumed that was just how all tarot cards would look. The deck which I bought (received? I don't remember if my parents were in on this) looked different. All the cards were there, but the art I had expected was not. The biggest difference that stood out to me was the "Death" card: in Live and Let Die that card has a super badass drawing of Death-incarnate wearing a suit of armor while riding a Pale Horse as all manner of human beings knelt or simply fell before him. In my deck, Death looked like a cartoon skeleton without clothes or a horse as he literally reaped the grass with a scythe. I am not here to judge aesthetics, but if you see something in a movie and you end up buying something else, especially as a kid, that's not going to sit right.
(I have tried to use modern search engine tools to discover what kind of deck I had: it was easy to figure out that Live and Let Die used a kind of Rider-Waite-Smith deck, but I think I might have ended up with a variant on a Marseilles deck - exactly which variant, I could not say)
Artistically it was a let down but the appeal of the tarot cards only increased as I learned more about them. First, I discovered that the deck was huge with 78 different cards: the big-picture cards that were featured in the film with names like "The Lovers" and "The Fool" were part of the Major Arcana, but there was also a full set of Minor Arcana which resembled playing cards: four suits, lots of numbers, and several face cards. Secondly, every card had two different "readings," depending on which direction the card faced when drawn.
78 cards, all with two different meanings, meant memorization. As a kid, I was all about memorization. In elementary school my friend Sasha and I tried to memorize the Periodic Table and I think we made it to the lanthanides. When I discovered the joy of watching professional sports, I made a point of memorizing all the teams - by division - in all four major sports leagues. Then I started memorizing the championship winners (and the runners-up) of each major sports league for the last ten years...then the last 20. These tarot cards were going to be my new thing, I could feel it.
I started carrying the cards with me wherever I went. As a kid in school this was easy since I always had a backpack on so the size of the cards meant nothing. Sasha and I (we had watched Live and Let Die together, so this became a team obsession) each had our own deck and we both would take turns drawing cards and looking them up in the little booklet that came in the box. I can remember taking them with us on a school trip to Boston and when we weren't in awe of the historical sights (do I need to tell you we were both nerds?) we kept up our tarot studies while walking around town. On one occasion, just as we drew a card and the booklet said it meant "danger," a car honked its horn at us. We were walking in the middle of the street! Clearly, the magic was real.
The tiny booklet also included a recommended layout when "reading" the cards. The lady in the movie just turned them over one at a time and everything made sense to her, but instead these instructions had us laying out ten different cards in a pattern where each card has a different relationship to the reader. Today I can tell you this pattern is called a "celtic cross" and it is only one of many, many shapes and patterns that can be used, but preteen me did not have that information. I had clear directions: to read the cards I had to flip over ten of them and explain them all.
Before I knew it, before either of us were really ready to be doing anything like this, I remember both of us became tarot card readers at our synagogue for a Purim festival. At the time I didn't think anything was weird, but in hindsight I am impressed that no one raised an objection to kids bringing such a thing into the synagogue so we could be fortune tellers. I should say that we were members of a Reform Temple and I cannot recall ever hearing words like "blasphemy" or "occult" used by our rabbi or anyone else in authority; it stood in contrast to all those self-described Christians I would see on TV who were mad about evolution being taught in schools, talking animals existing as characters in children's books, or anything else we might read in a Chick Tract (which come to think of it, we also discovered around this time while riding Metro-North trains into New York City).
My tarot reading habit did not last; Sasha and I had a falling out of sorts and other things just became more important than these strange cards. My deck sat on a shelf in my room for years until I moved out of my childhood home. I cannot say for certain but it more than likely did not leave with me. But my curiosity surrounding the tarot would linger in my mind and resurface soon enough just as my next big obsession would come along and reveal itself to be tarot-adjacent: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure.
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When I discovered JoJo via a fan-subtitled bootleg VHS in the late 1990s, I had no idea the six episodes of anime I just saw covered only one small part of an ongoing (to this day!) manga. The story, as presented on the tape, started in the middle of the action. A lot of it did not make sense, but I latched onto one element right away: every character had superpowers which were embodied - literally - in a spiritual version of themselves on screen and all these alter-egos had tarot-related names: Star Platinum. Hierophant Green. THE WORLD. There wasn't much connection between the card names and the powers they possessed, but it was the coolest thing I had ever seen. If I had still owned a deck I might have started imagining other powers for the other cards not shown on screen (not knowing that they were all represented in some fashion in the original manga).
Leap forward another - gosh, twenty years? - and my tarot fascination never really went away. When I see a Kickstarter or an Etsy page for a new take on tarot cards, I often take a peek at what ideas are on display. A lot of them are just...porn-y. Some are cute. But I'm old(er) now, I don't have the raw enthusiasm I did when I was in 7th grade and the prospect of magic playing cards just made perfect sense. I see daily horoscopes on Japanese TV which I recognize aren't "real," how could I scoff at one kind of fortune telling and then pick up a deck of tarot cards?
Except...who cares if it's "real." What does it matter if these cards are, ultimately, a random assortment of quality art? It's been three entire decades since I first saw them and I'm still deeply intrigued. Part of being old(er) is coming to terms with your own tastes and biases; I no longer need to apologize or feel shame for liking old pop songs or macho action movies and if I've always had a feeling that tarot cards are cool, that feeling is correct.
There's also the feeling that I know so little about tarot cards that I cannot possibly pass judgement on people who use them. I recently started testing a Body Positivity mobile app that uses tarot cards as a means to spark self-reflection and, well, body positivity. The tarot cards in the app are not "real," they're not even physical. They're just drawings on a screen. But the drawings are nice, and if flipping a virtual card over can have a real impact on my own mind, who's to say what flipping real cards over could do?
Even though I felt a need to write all this down, I'm not actually seeking permission here. I already made up my mind and bought a brand-new deck of tarot cards. It's here, next to me. I’ve opened them. I try to draw a few cards whenever I have a chance, but I don't know where this reignited interest will take me. Will I start memorizing them all, again? Will I have another car-honking-its-horn-at-me moment? Maybe I'll just enjoy them aesthetically (they are very nice-looking if I may say so). I don't know what will come next any more than these cards do, but I know I like having them here and I want to know more. At the very least, tarot cards have already taught me an important lesson: I know better than to try and read them while walking in the middle of the road.
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graceandfamily · 6 years ago
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Rita Gam: “My friend Grace Kelly”
A style icon who favoured old sweaters, the Hollywood star-turned-princess was full of paradoxes, friend and fellow actress Rita Gam tells Nick Miller.
By Nick Miller (March 11, 2012)
'THEY used to have stories. Today we don't have stories as good as that,'' says Rita Gam, 84-year-old star from Hollywood's golden age, sitting upright and respectable in her New York apartment as she remembers past roles. ''Even though some of them were B pictures they were terrific - nice stories, interesting.''
There would be a girl, well-bred but independent, glamorous, beautiful, stylish, make-up and clothes just so, admired, feisty. There would be complications, arguments, wit and danger and romance, and then the frame misty as she falls into the arms of a moustached older man, or a prince, then a wedding, a happy-ever-after or a tragic twist.
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(Above: Rita Gam and Grace Kelly in 1956)
But I'm not there to hear that story. I'm there to talk to Gam about her close friend, Grace Kelly. We're inside a 100-year-old block in midtown, with an ornate facade, a concierge and that old New York attitude, in an apartment decorated with movie posters from Hollywood's prime.
It must be frustrating for such a successful film, TV and stage actress to be constantly interviewed about her best friend. But Gam only once looks at the absence of a watch on her wrist, saying: ''I've got another five minutes of talking about Grace in me and that's it.''
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(Above: Rita Gam at 84)
I show her a book, Grace Kelly: Style Icon, published to accompany an exhibition curated by London's V&A museum and soon to open in Bendigo.
''Oh, this is very Grace,'' she says of the cover, from a 1955 Cosmopolitan shoot at the height of Kelly's movie career.
But when she flicks through the pages, her eyes are drawn to a casual Kelly on the streets of Manhattan, the Empire State Building over her shoulder, her clothes smart but demure.
''That's what she wore a lot,'' Gam says. ''Skirts and shirts. She was not much of a 'lunch girl', who would go to lunch and dress up.''
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(Above: Gam [back row, third from left] at the wedding of Kelly and Prince Rainer of Monaco in 1956)
This is Grace Kelly: Style Icon (it says so on the cover). Adored by the public, sought-after by designers. Still the touchstone reference for the Oscars red carpet; the woman who bridged the golden age of movies and the modern era - the first modern celebrity, a Princess Diana-come-January Jones.
But talking to Gam, a more complex version of Kelly emerges. ''She was not a fashionista in any way,'' Gam insists. ''You've got to separate what was created by the studio system, which was a make-believe image of a goddess.''
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(Above: Rainer and Kelly with children Caroline and Albert at Princess Stephanie's christening in 1965)
The Kelly that Gam knew exploited, then transcended - but never embodied - the public role that the Hollywood machine decreed for the leading ladies it owned.
Her life was a dance between image and reality, PR confections and real-life fairytales. Yes, she did marry a prince; but their first meeting was a contrived magazine publicity stunt. Yes, she was a fashion icon, but her private dress sense was conservative and her palace closets were packed with old sweaters.
KELLY and Gam met in New York in the early '50s as hard-working young TV actors and models. Pittsburgh-born Gam was married to a young director, Sidney Lumet, and Grace was the daughter of a well-to-do Philadelphia family (her father an Olympic medal-winning rower and construction millionaire), determined to make her own life in the performing arts, and succeeding at it.
They met on the sound stage of a show called Danger. ''She was playing some villainess or other - she was very cute,'' Gam recalls. ''We were introduced by Sidney. He said, 'Oh Rita, this is Grace. Grace Kelly, this is Rita.' 'How do you do?' ''
It was not a movie-star moment. ''She was a very nice girl - she could have been a kindergarten teacher. She had scrubbed clean, sympathetic looks. It's just when the camera hit her she became absolute magic.''
Others noticed, too. John Ford cast her in her first movie role after seeing a screen test and exclaiming: ''This dame has breeding, quality and class … I want to make a colour test of her - I'll bet she'll knock us on our ass!''
Gam and Kelly signed with MGM and became close friends when Gam moved to Los Angeles a year or so later. She had been put up at the Beverly Hills Hotel.
''I was very uncomfortable [there],'' she says. ''I was a woman alone, and if I sat in the lobby I would get hit on, and I was lonely. I would be calling New York and Sidney all of the time.''
At the suggestion of her agent, she called Kelly, who was on the cusp of fame as Rear Window, her second movie with Alfred Hitchcock, was finishing filming. Kelly was lonely too, having left behind in New York her on-and-off paramour, European designer Oleg Cassini.
''I called Grace and she said, 'Oh come for tea today', which I did. She was living with Prudy Wise, her secretary, a girl from the south. It was just a one-bedroom Hollywood apartment in the Hollywood flats. I don't know, we were just having tea and she said, 'Well, why don't you move in with us? Three is as good as two is as good as one.'
''So we did, I moved into her flat and it was rather fun, it was like we were sorority girls.''
In those days, Hollywood was ''a party town'' and ''pretty wide open'', Gam says, in suggestive but decorous tones. ''We would get hit on by industry wolves.
''I remember once, [Kelly] had a little gold Chevrolet, a couple of years older than was current, and [an acquaintance] said, 'Oh we'll send a car for you'. His name was Charlie Feldman, he was a big agent, and I said, 'Grace they're going to send a car for us'. I was on the telephone, and she said: 'No, tell them we'll drive ourselves.' I said: 'Oh, OK.'
''Well of course she was smart, we were in control of our destiny. We left that 'party' of four - two gentlemen, Charlie and his South American friend - and drove safely home down the Hollywood hills. [Kelly] was really much more wise than I was.''
It's a recurring theme as Gam remembers Kelly - a smart girl becoming a smart businesswoman who saw through the Hollywood machine and was fearless about imposing her own demands on it - in fashion as much as anything else.
''Basically, she was suburban in her tastes,'' Gam remembers. ''[Even as a princess] she had closets full of old tweed skirts that she hadn't worn in years, and many many blouses that had long since seen their day, and tonnes of sweaters that were well-washed and well-worn.
''She didn't have any particular style sense, I don't think. I think she addressed that as an actress. She didn't read a lot about fashion. [She relied on] not friends but professionals.''
Kelly befriended and relied on the studios' top designers. But she kept one eye on the result. In her first leading role (Dial M for Murder), even as she was learning how to act on film, she overruled Hitchcock on a costume decision, telling him that if her character got up in the middle of the night to answer the phone, she wouldn't bother putting a big velvet robe over her nightgown. She also had a fight with the make-up man who she thought was putting too much rouge on her. ''After that, I had his confidence as far as wardrobe was concerned, and he gave me a very great deal of liberty in what I wore in his next two pictures,'' Kelly said.
If style means anything, it's not what you wear, it's how you wear it. ''The subtlety of Grace's sexuality - her elegant sexiness - appealed to me,'' Hitchcock told his biographer. ''Grace conveyed much more sex than the average movie sexpot. With Grace you had to find it out, you had to discover it. Everybody wants a new leading lady but there aren't many of them around. There are a lot of leading women, but not enough leading ladies.''
Of their first meeting, Cassini later wrote: ''I saw her only in profile. I saw the utter perfection of her nose, the long elegant neck, the silky diaphanous blonde hair. She wore a black velvet two-piece, very demure, with a full skirt and a little white Peter Pan collar.
''Later, when she stood, I saw that she had a pleasing figure, tall, about five-foot-eight, good broad shoulders, subtle curves and long legs - a very aristocratic girl, not the sort you simply called for a date.''
The Hollywood system marketed her as the antithesis of Marilyn Monroe, whom Fox had recently discovered, feeding magazines lines that drew Grace as the all-American dream, a fine but approachable noblewoman who men wanted but women would also want to be: respectable, white-gloved, fine-bred and pretty. When Marilyn Monroe was asked what she wore to bed she replied ''Chanel No 5''. When Grace was asked, she replied: ''I think it's nobody's business what I wear to bed.'' Article after article punned on her first name.
Grace found it all amusing. But she told her biographer that this ''respectable'' image of Hollywood felt unreal, when the reality too often was ''full of men and women whose lives were confused and full of pain. To outsiders it looked like a glamorous life, but really it was not.'' After her Academy Award for best actress (tellingly, for her role in The Country Girl, in which she played ''a woman who had been married 10 years and lost interest in clothes, herself, everything'') she turned down most of the roles she was offered. The pressure and grind of Hollywood left her exhausted and disillusioned.
But she was also setting the mould for the modern movie star, taking control of her own PR from the studio. For Photoplay magazine she invited a photographer to take unprecedented candid shots of her and her sister on holiday in the Caribbean, in casual clothes and away from the studio's platoon of retouchers. The photographer Howell Conant wrote: ''You trusted Grace's beauty, you knew it wasn't built from clothes and make-up … [it was] natural, unpretentious.''
And then came her prince. Paris Match magazine set up a photo shoot of her with Prince Rainier of Monaco, as a promotion for its Cannes coverage. Gam recalls that the dress Kelly wore for the occasion she considers her biggest fashion faux pas. ''She would make jokes about it.''
Months later, Rainier arrived in New York. ''She called me, and she said, 'Come up for drinks on Thursday, I want you meet my prince.' I thought she meant her newest boyfriend and indeed it was her prince,'' Gam remembers. ''When I first met him … I wasn't blown over - you know, it wasn't Clark Gable, he was just a nice guy. He wasn't handsome, he was short and dumpy - [but] he was fun, he was well-educated, he had a good, funny British sense of humour, and he was intelligent, so I mean, what's not to like? And rich.''
''She was romantic, she would go with somebody for a long time and she was looking for the perfect person. And she fell in love with Rainier and that was that. She just allowed the romance of the times to sweep her away.''
This was the ultimate fairytale - the lavish royal wedding, the palace life in Monaco, dressed by designers.
And then there was the reality. More than 1600 reporters and photographers (more than covered World War II) turned the wedding into a mob scene. ''After the honeymoon she [and] Rainier slept for two days. It was exhausting and it took [them] a long time to recover from it,'' Gam, who was a bridesmaid, remembers.
''She didn't have a clue [what she was in for],'' says Gam of what followed for Kelly. The royal family forbade her from making any more films, which devastated Kelly. But Kelly was resourceful, playing the new role of princess in the same way as she had approached her movie career.
She switched from Hollywood's designers to the cream of the European fashion houses, and took to the kind of roles that princesses perform - benefits and balls, and patron of the arts.
''I don't think Grace changed from the minute I met her to the day she died,'' Gam says. ''She had an extraordinary PR sense and she had a strong sense of who she was and what she wanted to say. She allowed herself to be used by the talented fashion people of the time. And she enjoyed it. [But] I certainly don't think of clothes [when I think of her]. I think of friendship, I think of a loyal good friend, and somebody with a lovely voice and lovely face.
''You know, I see her very clearly, even though it's 35-odd years since she's gone.'' (Kelly died in a car crash in 1982.) ''She had a very strong presence … Everyone should have a friend like that.''
Grace Kelly encapsulated the latter part of Hollywood's golden age. At least, that's the legend, that's what people say. ''And well they should,'' says Gam. After all, it's a good story.
Grace Kelly: Style Icon is curated and organised by the V&A Museum, London, and the Grimaldi Forum Monaco. The exhibition will run from today to June 17 at the Bendigo Art Gallery.
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jo-the-schmo · 6 years ago
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It Smells Like Rain. Part 1
A/N: This is the first fic I’ve written for MCU, so honestly a lot of stuff is gonna be weird. I kinda mixed universes and make mentions to things that have happened because those movies are too good to not? I promised my friend @aurasphereriolu2 I would write this so I hope you enjoy this Thor x gender neutral reader. 
Warnings: Swearing, puns, not much else honestly?
Word count: 6,855
Your nose instinctively scrunched up when you stepped out of the sleek, nondescript, black car that took you into the city. The driver stepped out as well, along with your new sorta boss, Nick Fury. “It smells disgusting here.” You almost felt like gagging, the swirling scent of smog screamed into your nostrils. Nick let out a chuckle that didn’t really suit his character. “You’ll get used to it.” He motioned for you to follow him and the driver into the Avengers tower. You adjusted the band on your fingerless gloves as you all made it past security and into a reflective elevator. You decided to break the silence, “So, got any tips for a newbie?” You said with a hint of sarcasm. But Fury seemed to actually ponder that question. “If you don’t break anything and are okay with dark humor, you’re in with Tony. Just be nice to both of our local spiders and neither should have a problem with you. Don’t be an asshole to Cap. Keep it calm with Bruce and Barnes. And just exist around Thor, then you should be fine.” “Wow, last one sure sounded easy.” You snorted. “He is.” The elevator dinged, sliding open its doors to reveal a spacious room. Extremely modern, stylish, and only semi professional. You were surprised the room was empty, that’s a rare sight for a place that’s supposed to be extra protective. “Alright kids, you know I called a meeting, get your asses in gear.” Fury’s voice shifted to being almost as dramatic as his jacket. Seriously, that thing cannot be too practical. It sure looks cool though...I kinda want one. It only takes a few moments for the room to fill with people. The first of which being the famous Spider-Man. “Sorry! I had to find my mask!” He lets out a charismatic laugh. Why do I feel the strange urge to protect him with my life? Next is the Captain himself, with a sweet grin and some semblance of facial hair going on. “Hello! I’d like to welcome you to the Av-“ he’s soon cut off by another man, Tony Stark. “That would be my line, Colonel Purple Mountains Majesty.” He takes a bite of a...peach? Is that just a straight up peach? “Don’t steal my thunder.” “And you shouldn’t steal mine!” A booming voice echos from down the hall as a tall, blond man comes behind Tony and puts a strong arm around him. You recognize him as Thor. He’s bigger? In person? Weird. “Can we stop doing this cheesy lead up as a way to cleverly introduce ourselves? You all are giving me a migraine.” Black Widow says with disdain as she strolls in through a different hallway, reading something on a hologram tablet. “I’ll second that.” Bruce Banner mumbles as he adjusts his glasses. Has he...slept? Recently? He looks like he’s dying a little bit. Bruce looks around. “Where are the others at?” “Probably getting into trouble.” Thor sighs with a smile on his face. You cannot read what emotion he’s feeling. “Hopefully the good doctor isn’t.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Alright, enough of family sitcom intro sequence, I don’t care where the hell the others are because they aren’t my responsibility. We have important matters to discuss.” Fury gesture a hand towards you, as if he were presenting you. “I’d like for you all to welcome our newest agent. On normal circumstances, you all would’ve met her already. But unfortunately, those aren’t our circumstances. This is Agent L/N. They’re here to help deal with our recent conundrum...” Fury trails off. “Oh! You mean Metalhead?” Spider-Man suggests. “That is...not the name we were going with but yes, Metalhead.” You can’t see the facial expressions on whoever is wearing that mask but you can feel him smirking. Tony walks over to you in confident but effortless stride. Everything about him seemed very natural and blasé. You were surprised by the fact that apparently he enjoyed Metallica, at least that’s what his shirt suggested. “So what’s your deal? I need to come up with a clever nickname.” And apparently he’s extremely self aware. He extended his hand to you. “Got a name?” “Y/N.” You shook his hand with a firm grip before Fury answered his earlier questions. “Agent L/N is going to aiding you in your pursuit against ‘Metalhead’. I picked them specifically for the job because- well, maybe I should let them show you.” After hearing multiple people agree, you were ushered over to the center of the room with everyone surrounding you in a circle. You took the glove off your dominant hand and let in a deep breath. At least the air in here is a little cleaner... You looked around the room for a good place. Thor took especial interest in what you were doing. Finally you found something that wouldn’t break.   You spotted a bonsai tree by the large window and gently showed your hand in its direction. The veins in your arm began to glow and in an instant, the bonsai began to grow rapidly. Spider-Man latched onto the wall near the elevator as he gasped in surprise. You took slow steps  toward the shaping tree. A branch lowered itself down to you and allowed you to step onto the trunk. It didn’t buckle under your weight because of your infused power. You waved your hand and the tree extended, moving you back to the center of the circle. Everyone was thoroughly surprised by the realization. “You’re a mutant?” Widow asked. Banner seemed confused. “Wait, why a mutant? Aren’t they kinda a different department or something?” He asked, eyes squinted. “Well I’m not a teenager anymore, and let’s just say that the whole setting doesn’t fit me anymore.” You could tell everyone wanted you to elaborate but instead you hopped off the bonsai and waved it away. The tree twisted and shrank back down to its original size, looking completely untouched. “Looks like we got a second green thumb around here.” Tony pointed out. “I hate that.” Cap said with a grimace. “Get them accustomed to the area and I’ll check back in tomorrow so we can go over plans. Tony, play nice, we need them for this.” With that, Fury left with the elevator. “I’d offer to show you around but Bucky asked to train with me after the meeting. Call me Steve, by the way.” I’m gonna call him Rogers. You thought as he quickly left the room.
“Same here, the big guy and I have some-“ Tony pauses. “Spidey, cover your ears.” You raise an eyebrow when you actually see Spider-Man cover the sides of his head with his hands. “Some science shit to work on.” He signals for the ear covering to stop.
“You don’t have to do that y’know? Swearing isn’t a big deal.”
“The fact that you call it swearing means I’m right in my decisions.” Tony pays Bruce’s shoulder and the both of them turn around and open the door to an all glass lab.
“It was nice to meet you, Y/N! I have to go work on my suit for a bit, but I’ll be back later to pick your brain!” And with that, he bounced out of the room. He sure is enthusiastic. You turned your attention to the blonde woman in the outfit that matched her personality.
“I just don’t wanna do it. Big, dumb, blonde idiot, you blabber to her for a bit.” She barely looked up from the screen. Thor let out a hearty laugh.
“Don’t mind her, you get used to her.”
“She’s charming.” Though I suppose I’d be in the same mood if this was my everyday. Thor gave you his hand. You slid your glove back on before shaking his hand. His grip was surprisingly gentle for someone so...that.
“My name is Thor Odinson. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise.” You took a deep breath through the nose and suddenly were caught off guard. What’s that...smell? “Rain?” You pondered out loud. Your hand fell back to your side as Thor clapped both his together with a bright smile on his face.
“Ah, you smell that? You must have a good nose, I never hear people comment on that.” He seemed almost excited that someone caught on. “I’m the god of thunder, the scent comes with the deal.” You fell silent for a moment.
“Oh, I’m gonna have to be around you A LOT!” You allowed yourself a sigh of relief. “Do you know how bad the city smells? I hate it! I’m gonna need to set up a greenhouse here or something.”
“Well I can provide the rain if you have an open roof.” Thor spike with delight
“Think Stark will be okay with this?”
“I’d wager so, he’s usually fine with most of our antics.”
“Well I need one anyway, can’t really sleep in a stuffy room with chemicals spilling around me.”
“Let me show you around, it’ll give you an excuse to figure out where your choice of stay will be.” You followed him around for a majority of the day, incidentally learning a lot about him with every floor.
“You seemed the least surprised about my whole, plant thing. Guess it’s not too weird in comparison to being a god.”
“That, and someone in my realm has that exact skill set. Asgard is quite the place.”
“Why is there a hole in the wall there?”
“That would be my brother, Loki. He had a bit of a rat incident, got stuck in the wall.”
“Wow…”
“Yeah, that’s my brother for ya.”
You were able to understand a general layout of the building and knew where your room was supposed to be. But you refused. You didn’t have much sent with you so managed to convince Thor to grab a few bags while you got all your potted plants and made your way to the only space that connected with the outside other than the ground itself. You were fully aware that this area was meant for the helipad but you didn’t care. Thor seemed rather confused, examining you as you flitted about the open, outdoor space.
“You...plan to sleep outside?”
“Fury obviously didn’t get the memo…”
“What memo?”
“I can’t exactly stay inside for too long.” You had him put all the stuff down so he could focus on what you were saying, since he was obviously still perplexed. You ungloved your hand once more to demonstrate. You usually tried to let nature take its course with your plants but for the sake of explanation, made an exception to your rule. With the opposite hand, you carefully extracted a piece of a succulent you were trying to propagate.
“My body is heavily in tuned with the natural world.” You paused and made sure he watched as you placed the small shred of green onto your naked palm. In an instant, the succulent began to grow, and it wasn’t long before it came to its full size. It took 2 seconds. “So much so that I can bring life to something that has long since past. But that comes with a few setbacks on my end.”
“What do you mean?”
“My body itself acts more similar to a plant than a flesh person. I need to be outside a surprising amount. I actually did sleep in the court yard back at Xavier’s. And if I’m being completely honest, my presence out here might help clean the air a bit.” Thor nodded along, he didn’t seem confused anymore, he actually looked quite pleased with what he learned.
“Well, that certainly is a wonderous ability to-“ his hand reaches for your own, the one that held the succulent. You panicked and dropped it to the ground, pulling your hand back just in time to escape Thor’s touch. You hastily put the glove back on as his own hand reeled back in surprise. “I apologize, I certainly did not mean to-“
“No, no! You’re fine, you are all good! Just...just don’t touch my bare hands. My fingers are okay but not my palms or the backs of my hands. Just a safety precaution.”
“Do you mind me asking why exactly?” His words were soft and curious.
“Well, my power generates from certain points on my body. My palms and the soles of my feet. I can pull the power to my fingers and stuff like that, but there’s no guarantee that bare contact won’t just turn whatever I touch into something more...organic? It isn’t intentional, it just happens and I never know when it’s coming so I always cover my palms.”
“That seems rather stressful…”
“Pfft, mine’s a summer breeze compared to some other mutants. As long I’m not stupid and you’re not stupid, it should be okay. Which neither of us are, nor anyone in this building from what I’d guess.” You laughed at your own statement. After all, some of the world’s greatest geniuses are here. But Thor seemed rather surprised by your statement. He quickly shook it off and his usual smile was brought to his face.
“Well, let’s go bother Stark in his lab, you do need somewhere to sleep!”
Your stay with the Avengers has been interesting to say the least. In the time you’ve been there, only 3 days, you have seen 5 windows shatter, a coffee machine literally implode, and have gotten stuck to the wall because Clint (who had just come back after some time off) decided to scare poor Spidey while you got caught in the crossfire of his reaction. There were plenty of good things to come of it though.
You did in fact get your greenhouse, that night actually. You didn’t expect Thor to be so persuasive, but you suppose it’s not too outlandish to see that. Spider-Boy (name pending) also kept to his word. He did find you the next day and ‘picked your brain’ for a bit. He was a nice kid, a smart one too. He never ran out of questions to ask you, but was always very polite about it.
Today, you were in your greenhouse. It wasn’t, gigantic or anything. Not nearly as grandiose as your one back at Xavier. You were glad they kept their word when you requested someone still take care of it. But you were just happy that you had something to work with. You took off your gloves and slid them into your back pocket. With a wave of your hand, two tree limbs exuded from your arms and pushed open the folding roof, careful to not break the glass. This by far was your favorite feature. The glass panes were good enough to allow proper sunlight but something about letting the sun into the small structure whenever you wanted was very nice.
As you got yourself busy, you became lost in thought. You were supposed to come here to help solve the ‘Metalhead’ problem but it hasn’t been talked about since your first day. Furthermore, he’s been keeping a low profile ever since you arrived, it was making you a bit anxious. You wondered what he could be planning. I should talk to Tony and Rogers about it when I get the chance.
“You’re up early!” You heard the voice of the young Spidey as he perched himself on the edge of the greenhouse.
“Early Bird gets the worm, yeah?”
“Oh, worm?” You facepalm. He laughs at your reaction.
“Are you ready to get to work?” For the past 2 days, Spidey has been dropping by to help you with your plants. Apparently he can’t take care of a regular plant to save his life.
“You bet!” He hopped down and put a pair of gloves on over his already covered hands, which never stopped being funny to you. You tried to change up which bed he took care of so that he would learn different things. Today you instructed him on how to care for the few small trees you had inside. One being a peach tree (under Stark’s request). Man likes his peaches, I guess.
The two of you were oddly silent when you worked. This was unusual for him at least because he always had a question to ask. Can you sleep inside? Yes. Why don’t you? Well, my body gets a lot of its energy from being outside in general. Are you telling me you go through photosynthesis? Sort of, the sun does play a part in it but being outside in general keeps me working. Winter is a bit of a struggle but I make it work. Do you need to eat? Yes, I do. Most of my energy comes from being outside but I am still a person. He’d ask a lot about your powers but also about your favorite movies and shows. He was happy to hear that you plan on sticking around in the city to help with air quality. How much clean air do you generate? Hmmm, last time I checked it was about the same amount as 10,000 trees. That’s a lot of damage! Yeah, it is. How exactly does that work? Well, trees can absorb harmful gases and pollutants in the air and filter clean air back out. My skin does the same thing. You almost didn’t notice him finally start talking while you pondered.
“Why do you do this?”
“Hm?” The question was vague but genuine.
“Why do you take care of plants by hand when you can summon them whenever you want?” That was a question nobody had really asked you before. It took you a second to find the right response.
“Well… Where’s the fun in that?” You paused what you were doing and turned to look at him. “There’s no satisfaction in just making something happen. You have to work for it, understand it, create it. My powers are in tuned with nature but I am not nearly as wondrous as the natural world. I just…” You turned back to the amazon lilies.
“Just what?” He asked shyly. You looked at him but continued to plant the lilies.
“You’re a smart boy, Spidey. Why is a smart guy like you asking so many questions?” This is what was really getting to you. Even with his mask on he looked nervous.
“So many of the Avengers are fantastical in some way.”
“Are you telling me you aren’t special right now? Because if you are, I swear, I WILL turn you into a willow tree!”
“I’m sorry! I guess it just...kinda gets to me sometimes? Please don’t turn me into any sort of non sentient organism.”
“Alright...but this is your only warning boy, I’m watching you! You better like yourself or I’ll get upset and you won’t like me when I’m upset!” Spidey made a pfffffffffft noise and laughed.
“You can’t just steal Bruce’s thing!”
“Shhhhhh, don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.” You smiled. He’s a good kid, he shouldn’t feel let down. You made a note to talk to Tony and Rogers about this too. Something made a frantic beeping noise.
“Oh! Sorry! My Aunt is calling. Think we can continue this later?”
“Sure thing, kiddo.” And with your go ahead, he did a sweet flip out of the greenhouse. Can he just not use doors? The curse of being Spider-Boy… you heard a knock on the glass door adjacent from you. In the doorway was the other reason the past few days had been so pleasant. “Visiting my cabin in the woods so soon, Goldie Locks? Figured you’d at least wait till noon.”
“I could say the same for you.” Thor grinned. Thor was...an interesting guy. You weren’t expecting the guy you saw on TV all the time to be quite like this. He was big, loud, and a bit on the dramatic side. But he was also the most gentle person you had ever met. At least around you he was. His voice was always more soothing when it was just the two of you. But this time he sounded a bit more concerned. “I heard what you said to the spider boy.” I knew that name couldn’t be original!
“How much?”
“All that I needed to hear.” He came closer to you, leaning his hip against the desk that converted into your bed. “Why were you up so early?” Nothing seems to get past him. He’s very intuitive.
“I’m...anxious? That’s probably what it is. Sleeping has been a bit of an issue.”
“Why so anxious? Anyway I can help?”
“You’re too sweet.” You sighed and thought for a moment. “I feel like I’m not getting anything done. This is my third day here and the whole reason I’m here hasn’t been brought up once. I feel like I’m just sitting around.” You turned around, resting yourself partially of the edge of the wooden flower bed support, staring down at your hands. You were so lost and thought that you didn’t catch what was happening until the last second. Thor was standing in front of you. Your hands shot back and hit the board, gripping into the clean wood, while he leaned in close.
“Need to stretch your legs for a bit?” The smirk on his face made you blush but also slant your eyes.
“Can you be more specific? Context would be important here.” You gave a forced chuckle.
“Training! I’ve been dying to see you in action and I think I could convince some of the others to come along!” He’s so pretty when he’s enthusiastic.
“I guess? I mean, I’ve got nothing else to do!” Your lips tightened into a thin smile. He pulled himself away and clapped his hands together.
“Excellent! I shall inform the others, see how many participants I can gather. Will I meet you back here?”
“I suppose so…” And with that, Thor left with a little more bounce in his step. You let out a heavy breath and managed to unferel your hands from the planks of wood. You hesitated, but knew you had to see. 2 patches of moss in the shape of flustered hands. “Damnit…”
About 30 minutes pass by the time Thor meets back up with you. He changed from his casual clothes into his battle attire which you had never seen in person. You weren’t entirely sure why your anxiety had gotten worse. This was supposed to be at least a little fun. It was supposed to NOT make you anxious. Maybe I just need to wait till we get there.
“You ready to go?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be!” You literally followed that up with saying ‘ha’ three times. “Who’s coming along?”
“Barnes, the boy, one of Stark’s suits, and I believe Banner is coming as well!” He sure is excited. “Can you fly?”
“What?” You heard a light thud, and suddenly another voice had entered the conversation.
“Mr.Barnes and Mr.Bucky are taking one of the aircrafts. Are you going with them? Because Thor will be hopping around and I’ll be swinging.”
“Yes, what he said.” Thor chuckled and scratched the back of his head.
“Hm, I think I’ll make it just fine if you guys lead the way.” Thor could read the mischievous glint in your eyes. You closed the door of the greenhouse behind you and walked over to the edge of building. You took off your gloves again and attached them to one of your belt loops.
“What are you doing?” They both asked in unison, which was kinda weird.
“You’ll see.” You sang. You shot Thor a wink before you leaned forward and let your body free fall. You heard Spidey exclaim ‘oh shit!’ as you fell. This was one of the benefits that your powers gave you. You smiled as the air built around you. You watched in bullet time as ivy began to coat the ground and up the wall of the Avengers tower. And then the falling stopped. You were completely relaxed as you hung motionless in the air. That is, until you felt something whiz past you and land on the sidewalk about 10 feet below you. Worried eyes looked up at you.
“Are you al-“ he stopped as he noticed what was going on. A cottonwood tree had grown on the side of the structure. The roots sprawled, none going through the building. You hang from an ivy vine that coiled around your left ankle and up your leg, the other one bent as if you were trying to hug your knee. Spidey landed on the trunk above you, clearly stunned.
“How do you stay upside down so long? My head is already starting to hurt.”
“That was so cool!” He exclaimed.
“Thanks kid, you need to teach me how to swing around without the blood rush.” You looked back down at Thor. “You alright down there big guy?”
“Yes, you just gave me a bit of scare.” He brushed off the worry and continued. “At least I have an idea of what to expect during training.” You heard the click of camera and phones going off, people around you were taking pictures. You waved politely for them.
“Lead the way, boys. I’m ready to go!” More vines crawled over the trunk and managed to pull you up, but instead of Boston Ivies, these were littered in yellow flowers. “Black-Eyed Susan’s? Huh, that’s a good one.”
“I could just carry you. Don’t want to waste any energy for training.” Thor suggested.
“Ha! That’s just what you want, buddy. Spidey, lead the way!”
“You got it!” Without skipping a beat, he began to swing away. You took a running start down the winding branches of the tree before they began to carry you. Then you ran again. Your body and powers already sensing your next move, a white willow shot out of the ground. The tall, branching trunk wrapped around a lamp post in multiple directions and caught around your leg, keeping you still for a second. You felt the white and gold specs of energy blow past you, like leaves and petals do in anime and cartoons for some reason that no one talks about. The cottonwood tree and boston ivy on the tower was gone.
“That’s certainly impressive.”
“Just wait until we get to our destination, tall, blonde, and handsome.” You took the opportunity of Thor’s shock and got the fuck out of there. It only took less than an hour to get to an open field where Spidey was waiting since you were essentially running from your consequences.
“Took you two long enough!” The boy said just as you jumped down with Thor following close behind.
“You always need to properly stretch before you do anything physically exerting.” It wasn’t long before you heard a helicopter coming by in the distance. You decided to take a look at your surroundings while it landed. Guess I should’ve figured they all don’t train inside...that wouldn’t really make much sense with their skill sets.
“Sorry we’re late, had to pick up some equipment.” Bruce explained as he came closer to your small group with Bucky in tow.
“Equipment? What do you need equipment for? We’re training.” Thor questioned.
“You all are training, not me. I’m here out of curiosity.”
“He wants to see what they can do.” Bucky pointed at you.
“Exactly. I’ll be over here…” he pointed to the side and began to walk in the direction. But before he made it to his destination, be pulled out something that looked like a beeper, pressed it, and threw it behind him. Thor smirked and said-
“In 3...2...1…” And there it is, pieces of one of Stark’s suits flew in, building itself over where the beeper landed.
“That’s super neat!”
“Eh, that’s an older model that remade for training. Not nearly as cool as his normal suits.” Spidey punctuated.
“Well, let’s not waste anymore of Banner’s time. He’s just as curious as the rest of us.” He smiled at you before raising his voice to everyone else. “Spread out! It’s time to get to work.” Everyone nodded but you had another trick up your sleeve.
“Good luck, boys. I’ll be keeping a BUCKeye on you!” You clapped your hands and pushed them into making circles reverse of each other. The grass on the ground grasped at your feet. Dandelions crawled up your form. Then, you were nowhere to be seen. Because you were literally underground. Last time I used that was to get out of a reeeeaaaaalllly awkward conversation. Quick moves!
You never know where your powers will take you, they do their own thing sometimes. You shot out of the ground and onto your feet, surprisingly not dirty. Nice job roots, you’re getting better at that. The first thing you noticed was a pond. Cool beans! It’s like a little park here! Why the hell is their a pond in the training grounds? Ooooo! Creeping Jenny! A sneaky gal!
“Don’t let your guard down, bud!” You heard Bucky charge at your from behind, a wall of roses sprawled an inch from your back.
“The only things down are my serotonin levels, Buck!” Making a sharp turn, you lunged and dragged your hand across the spotty ground, making a semi circle around where Bucky had to slow down. Even though he tried to jump out of the way with those good, good reflexes, you anticipated him. Three roots pulled him back into a sort of hug with their buckeye tree. One caught him on his waist, his still people hand, and his left leg. “Get it? It’s a both a pun on your name and the one I made earlier.”
“You’re a clever little shit.”
“Yeah I am, you can easily break that so I’m gonna bounce and have you catch up with me in a sec but I just got one more question.” He looked confused. “Who the fuck names their kid after the most irrelevant president?” And with that, you straight bounced out of their. Meaning a shit load of bamboo shoots punctured through the ground and shot you in the air. Your curled yourself into a ball while zooming through the air and felt something soft and fuzzy wrap around you. You felt yourself land but it didn’t hurt. You relaxed your muscles and realized you were covered in Lamb’s Ear and under you was a round patch of Irish Moss. So soft! You gave them both a little squeeze before getting up and going into a sprint. You heard a familiar ‘woosh’ noise and quickly phased into a nearby tree. Red and Blue were heading your way, and fast. Better think faster! You were pushed back through the air, your back bending and until your feet hit the surface of a another tree across from the original one. The motion caused the white glimmers of energy that you focused on to form into a cluster of bengal clockvine. Of course, Spidey would be able to sense this coming, so your only option was to overwhelm him with numbers. The entirety of the 2 trees you moved between and the space in between were saturated by a mass of thin green vines, leaves, and purple trumpet shaped flowers.
“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO N-“ he was almost able to avoid them, which was extremely impressive. His foot got caught on the top, making him trip in the air, and slam back onto the opposite side of the wall. You climbed around and jumped onto a branch a few feet away that gave you a good look at your handy work. The boy was literally upside down.
“Oh look, a spider in my web! You doing okay there? I almost didn’t catch you, kiddo!”
“Yep! I’m fine, nothing wrong here!” He groaned.
“Where’s the suit at, kid?”
“I’ll never tell! No snitches in MY Avengers!”
“Good looking out. Barnes is probably on his way, tell him I said sorry about the puns when you get out!” The branch bent and lowered you to the ground, you ran as you waved bye to the kid.
Alright...now if I was a suit worth more than my life, where would I be? You saw dark clouds rolling in at a strangely quick pace. Probably trying to fight a literal god to prove a point, yeah that sounds about right. Grand entrance time!
You slowed down to halt and scooped up a handful of dirt, squeezing it against your bare palm. You felt the ground shake under your boots, cracks pooled through the dry soil. Your hand felt the prickle of dull needles as your eyes saw the world spin. With loud, gnarly cracks, you stood near the top of a Sugar Pine, you estimated roughly about 200 feet tall. You could’ve made it taller, or manifested a different species of tree entirely. But you didn’t want to waste all your energy on being showy. Only waste SOME of your energy of being showy! Good plan.
You stayed still as the roots...uproot. It was less like the pine was walking and more like it was slithering. The roots acted like snakes, but the snakes were carrying a 2 liter container of water...or something similar to that. For most people, they’d be freaking the hell out, but you were accustomed to this. In fact, you barely held on, there wasn’t a point in being nervous about this. Is it weird that I’m less bothered by this than being really close to a one-eyed god? Eh, probably not, right? You felt the air chill around you and shivered, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The feeling of soft electricity hit you first, then the voices faded in.
“Come on, Stark! You can be faster than that, even if that’s just an empty shell!”
“Hey! My suits are not empty, I’ve got AI in there! You better watch yourself, pretty boy!”
“Aw, that’s sweet, you think I’m pretty?” Thor taunted.
“Am I interrupting something? Should I come back later?” You shouted. 4 explosives locked on and fired toward you. “Whoops!” You dropped down and let a lower branch catch you, the top part of the pine was blown off and on fire. These were just the baby bullets. He was going easy on you. “Well damn, if you’ve already got the wine out, I might as well stay for a glass!”
“Dumb one-liners are my thing, Justin Timberlake.” This will truly be a battle of puns.
“Sorry to steal your game, rich boy.” The branch flung you up into the air. The suit aimed its palm at you, radiating with energy. And just before it was able to lock on to you, gravity was getting ready to pull you back down. You had essentially done a flip in the air and were nearly hovering over the Iron Man suit. Human eyes meeting robotic ones. You let the dirt in your hand go. The granules slipped from your fingers and trickled over the suit.
In that moment, you realize some things. First, Tony was controlling the suit, not letting one of his AI’s handle it as he earlier suggested. Next, there were at least a few gaps in THIS suit, not totally airtight. Finally, that pun he made was really good and you’re gonna have to think for a little bit to find a comeback. The suit reacted to what you did.
“Did you just throw dirt at my suit? You’re cleaning this!” You landed on a Lawson cypress that was only about 150 feet tall. Damn, am I getting tired already?
“Oh that shit’s never coming out.” You called with a smirk on your face. It was faint but you could see some green peeking out around where the joints in the suit would be. It’s arm twitched.
“What the hell did you do?” Tony’s voice was starting to sound crackly.
“Just a little gardening!” You sang. “Sheet moss is really good for covering almost any material, and is super soft too!” The suit started to convulse. “Sorry for hacking into your system with literal dirt. Imagine if that were someone’s intestines, gross right?” The lights went out and it began to fall. You whistled as it went. You looked back at Thor who was gripping Stormbreaker. “Think he’s gonna make me pay for that?”
“Doubtfully. Stark is a complicated man but he’s not heartless.”
“Good, didn’t think he would be. So...wanna do a quick round? You barely got to match with the suit before I spoiled your fun.” You moved your hand softly, making the branch you stood on raise and move closer to Thor until you were only a foot apart.
“I don’t want to fight you, even in training.”
“Why not? Is it because I’m a gentle little flower?” You teased. That’s what most people thought of you but you didn’t blame them. Your powers were more defensive than offensive.
“Quite the opposite, actually. You scare me a bit. I know when to pick and choose my battles.” He snickered. “I’d rather fight someone who can beat me in strength than someone who can outsmart me. Though, either impressive.”
“I mean, yeah, you ARE a god with superior strength and intelligence...isn’t that you thing?”
“Ah, you flatter me.”
“I THINK YOU MEAN FLATTEN!” You hardly had time to register the voice of Spidey before the cypress beneath you started to bend into a cocoon around your body. You couldn’t move but felt yourself get hit and thrown back.
You weren’t sure how long you were in the air for but you sure felt the landing. Your body rattled against the wooden shell, feeling dizzy and your head aching from what might have been a mild concussion. The cypress faded into specs of light absorbed into the air. Your muscles strained as you attempted to sit back up, but what you saw horrified you.
“What the hell…” Chrome blinded you with the mid afternoon sun, making the site serene in a grotesque manner. You weren’t sure how much of the crime lay before you but that didn’t manner. Coated in a metallic sheen were at least a dozen of what looked like Green Ashes and two stationary, humanoid figures.
Mouths were open in a silent scream, arms outstretched. Their metallurgic layer almost looking ghostly. You sat motionless for a few moments and drank in the scene. Adrenaline boiling. Then you came to your senses.
“Fix it! I can fix it! Fix it…” You tried your hardest to break through your fears and generate all the power you had left in your system. Push it back, I just need to push the particles back and do it fast enough for them to not react. Simple stuff! You slammed your hands into the cold earth and imagined your energy flowing back into it. It would be like a defibrillator shock on a dead corpse. Your body felt lighter and more weak, something was definitely happening.
But you saw nothing. Your tried again, and again, more energy, more violently, until your hands shank into the ground just to TRY and make something happen. The metal was spreading, it was still a few feet away from you. It was slow if anything else. You felt no life in this area, despite all the blades of grass and trees in front of you. Everything coated was dead, or so close that it almost didn’t matter. Your head ached and begged for you to stop. But you had to do something.
“Y/N? Where are you? Are you hurt?” An accented voice called out, but you didn’t have the strength to answer. Trap it, I can trap this patch until we find a way to contain it and reverse it. Grass scraped under a quiet but firm step. “Do you need medical-“ but he was cut short by what he saw.
With trembling hands, your nails scratched into the soil, your body screamed in pain. You had never exerted this much energy before, you never needed to.
“Just trap it, hold it, trap it, hold it, make it stop.” A few dozen stalks of white bark stained with grey patches erupted around the patch of land, shifting all the natural trees back. Yellow leaves sprouted quickly and dotted the sky from what you could see. They were unnaturally close together and made somewhat of a dome shape but that’s exactly what you needed. Something dense that would save time. A strong hand gripped your shoulder.
“Can you hear me? I’ve been calling out to you-“
“Pando, the trembling giant. They share a root system so I’ll be able to have it circulate a little longer than it’s supposed to. I can’t push it back.” You had panic in your heart but a numbness in your brain. The voice was quieter than before but it didn’t sound intentional.
“We need to get back to the others-“ your mind cut something out. “Just hold on, I can-“ your eyes shut, you something support your back and behind your knees. “We’ll find him.”
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tonystarkbingo · 6 years ago
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Weeks 14 - 16 roundup
More delicious Tony Stark goodness for us all to enjoy! 
Title: Iron Man and Doctor Doom versus the Teenage Vampire Girls  Collaborator: @tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: T5 - Image of Doom offering champagne Ship: Victor VonDoom/Tony Stark Rating: teen Major Tags: enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, vampirism, goth tragedy, dark, comfort sex, off screen sex Summary: Doom has a problem. A vampire problem. And he turns to the only person he can think of who can help him. Word Count: 3,315
Title: You are What You Do  by @laufeysonthor Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, James “Bucky” Barnes Additional Tags: Bucky is just mentioned Summary:
“Perfect that’s enough time to talk about what’s on your mind,” Tony tells him looking towards him so intently that Pete has to look away from Tony.
Tony Stark Bingo- K3 Picture of Tony fixing up the suit.
Title: To Pardon or Not to Pardon by @laufeysonthor Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Tony Stark Additional Tags: Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Summary:
“You realize they don’t have to be pardoned right?” Pepper asks incredulously that her best friend is even floating the idea around.
Tony Stark Bingo 2018- K5 (Tension)
Title: Learn My Lessons Well by tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: K3 - spanking Ship: Bucky/Tony Rating: E Major Tags: role-play, spanking, paddling, crossdressing, Teacher/student dynamics, established relationship, negotiated kink off scene, age gap play, power dynamics play Word Count: 2,038 Summary: Mr. Barnes was warned that Tony Stark was a bad student, disrespectful and a handful of trouble. Well, Mr. Barnes is going to give him some trouble.
A/n: Tony and Bucky are in an established kink relationship that includes age-gap play and roleplaying. Bucky is NOT Tony’s actual teacher, and Tony is his actual age (late 40s). The stepping out of the shoes thing is their pre-arranged check-in that says Tony is done being paddled and wants to move on to the sex now. They have safe words.
Karaoke Night by @novarain01
https://www.patreon.com/novarain
Marvel fanart: Tony and Rhodey drunkenly singing their hearts out in a karaoke booth. They’re so wasted they’ve lost their shoes somewhere. Created for Tony Stark Bingo Challenge 2018. Topic was “voice,” expressed via singing.
Experimenting with a different coloring technique where flat color, shading, and highlighting are done on the same layer. Perspective was a bit difficult, but the direction from nearest to farthest starts from bottom to top.
Title: Like Dust I Rise, by @dracusfyre Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Characters: Pepper Potts, Tony Stark, Friday (Marvel), James “Rhodey” Rhodes Additional Tags: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, POV Pepper Potts, Pepper Potts: Codename Rescue, grieving Pepper Potts Series: Part 17 of Tony Stark Bingo Challenge Summary:With Tony Stark missing, possibly dead, Pepper has little time to grieve before she realizes she has to try to fill the (gold-titanium) shoes he left behind.For the photo prompt in square S2: Tony holding a holographic version of the Captain America shield.
Title: Soulmates aren’t just Lovers by @celtic7irish Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Tony Stark, Red Skull (Johann Schmidt), Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, Thor, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson (Marvel) Additional Tags: Forced soulbonding, Imprisonment, Abandonment Issues, winter soldier programming, Bucky Barnes is still in there, Tony Stark is the most stubborn, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Bucky needs a hug, Soulmates, TWS on never happened Summary:Hydra wants Tony to build them Stark/Chitauri Hybrid weapons. When Tony refuses, they decide that they’ll make him more pliable. By forcing him into a soulbond with the Winter Soldier. After all, his programming should supersede Tony’s stubbornness. Right?
Chapter 12: Working on the Car Together
Title: Winter the Murderkitten by @voodoofee Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark, Winter Soldier/Tony Stark, James Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark/ Winter Soldier Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Tony Stark, Winter Soldier Additional Tags: Fluff, ace char, Ace!Winter, There’s Two Of Them, Winter is a big cat, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Bucky Barnes has a heart, They Are Idiots, Idiots in Love Summary:The Winter Soldier was in Tony’s lap, purring and headbutting the man as if the murderous thing was a giant, snuggling cat instead of a murderer and security threat. It made Bucky’s blood boil seeing the man like that, already succeeding in getting Tony to sneak a hand into the long brown hair to scratch him behind his ears. The genius had his STARKpad in the other hand and was reading the newspapers, discarding his coffee- His godforsaken coffee!- to pet the former assassin. Winter, or Snowflake as Tony called the soldier, purred happy and closed his eyes, his back open and vulnerable to Natasha who watched it all with silent curiosity. square T2 Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier 
Title: All I ever Wanted by @voodoofee Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, James “Bucky” Barnes Additional Tags: High Heels, Tony Stark Bingo 2018, Crossdressing, Tony needs Bucky Summary:
Tony knew he wouldn’t be able to get James. It wasn’t the first time he wouldn’t get what he desired and it wouldn’t be the last. He would get over the heartbreak. Somehow.
Square filled - S2 “writing format: perspective flip”
Title: Art Fill by @voodoofee
Rhodey’s always there for Tony. That’s why he loves his platypus so much. NSFW contains nudity.
This is for the Stark Bingo R4 <3
Title: Any Old Music Will Do Collaborator: @tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: O4 – Character is a Stripper | T3 - Canon Divergent AU Ship: Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark Rating: E Major Tags: anal sex, bad safe sex etiquette, stripper, fix it fic, what if Tony was never Iron Man, Winter Soldier, masturbating, stripping Summary: The soldier was bored, and he had plenty of money. What he needs now is someone to take off their clothes and not ask any questions. Well, Tony’s good at ONE of those things.
Title: Delivery Avengers by @rebelmeg Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tony Stark and his Bots, Tony Stark & Avengers Team, Mentions of Pepperony - Relationship Characters: Tony Stark, Dummy (Iron Man movies), You (Iron Man movies), Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Bruce Banner, Jane Foster (Marvel), Darcy Lewis, Steve Rogers, James “Bucky” Barnes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Thor (Marvel) Additional Tags: Autobiography, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Sort of a bot fic, Protective Avengers, Avengers Family Summary:Tony’s been talked into starting his own autobiography, and his first story is about the time the Avengers teamed up for the best cause: slightly petty revenge.
R4 - Writing format: autobiography/biography. 
Title: A Cinderella Story by @dracusfyre Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Obadiah Stane Additional Tags: Modern Cinderella Story, Based on the tween movie, not the fairy tale, winteriron, ableist slurs, Phone Sex Summary:Tony Stark comes home from his parents’ funeral to find out that both he and Stark Industries were on the brink of bankruptcy. After months of slaving away trying to save his family’s company, he decides to let himself have one night of fun at a masked ball to benefit military veterans.Bucky Barnes doesn’t know much about the sexy stranger from the masked ball, except that his name is Tony and he has an ass that makes him want to get on his knees and give thanks. When he ends up with the man’s cell phone at the end of the night, he hopes that this will give him a chance to learn more.
Title: One Lab Accident from Supervillainy by @rebelmeg
Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Tony Stark Has A Heart, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, We got cheated out of this friendship in the MCU, Tony-centric, Post-Avengers (2012), Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Summary:
On bad days, Tony amuses himself by thinking up all the ways he could end the world. He’s not gonna do it… but he knows how he could.
square S1: One lab accident from supervillainy
Title: Just Like any Other by @shi-toyu Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tony Stark & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) & Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No Comfort, Light Angst, Depression, Depressed Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Being Tony, Tony Stark-centric, Robot Feels, Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Awesome Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Jarvis (Iron Man movies) Feels, Worried Jarvis (Iron Man movies) Summary:It was incredible, honestly, how quickly they could come upon him. Even after all this time, Tony still felt like each one was a surprise. He could be going about his day, completely normal or even the rare good one, and then everything would change. For no explicable reason, his mood would plummet, his motivation would dry up, and his energy would peter off into nothing.Square Filled:  A3 free square
Title: Breathe your Life into My Soul by @shi-toyu Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Tony Stark, AI Tony Stark - Character Additional Tags: Artificial Intelligence, Canon - Comics, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Hurt Tony Stark, BAMF Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Feels, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Touch-Starved, Captain America Bucky Barnes Summary:There were an awful lot of advantages to not having a physical form, Tony had to admit. He never had to worry about fuel anymore, for one thing. He’d always been forgetting to eat or drink enough, not to mention all the time he had to take out for bodily functions. As an AI, there was so much more time for his work, which was a huge plus, especially where Riri was concerned. That kid was really going places.There was one major drawback, though, and that was the inability to touch anyone.
Square filled - S3 square: canon compliant 
Title: Stress Relief by @cat-zy Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) & Tony Stark, Tony Stark/His Right Hand Characters: Tony Stark, Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Pepper Potts Additional Tags: Masturbation, Iron Man Suit Kink Summary:
There was a delicate pause. “Well, my research shows that humans sleep better after an orgasm.” Tony grinned. “Why, JARVIS, you sly dog, are you telling me to have sex with someone in order to sleep?” “Another person is not necessary for the release of pleasurable endorphins.” “You want me to literally go fuck myself?” JARVIS said primly, “It is just a suggestion, Sir, for your own good.” Tony chuckled. “Alright, I might as well give it a try.” Exactly what it says on the tin - a short fic about Tony giving himself some love all in pursuit of sleep. The vibe is steamy, but low key - if that’s a thing.
Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Fill: A1 - KINK: masturbation
Title: Take what was wrong (And Make it Right) by @polizwrites Square Filled: K4 - Flight Rating: General (at least for now) Warnings: angst, injury Summary: Afghanistan took more from Tony Stark than most people understand; the surgery in the cave stealing his ability to fly. But in the wake of the Battle of New York, Tony discovers an unexpected sympathizer. The revelation of the Winter Soldier’s identity and his recovery spurs Tony to reach for the skies once again. Eventual WinterIron -- possibly Stark Spangled Winter/Stuckony
So, we have one blackout card “winner” (Tisfan) and one new participant. You should get your badges Very Soon :D thanks everyone for participation, even if your mod has been crazy missing in action!
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plussizeingenue-blog · 7 years ago
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RomCom Recipe
Excited to have written a new story, this time with a preexisting fictional character. I have a lot of ideas for turning this into a series, so please let me know if there is any interest in this!
Also follow me on instagram @plussizeingenue, for writing snippets and prompts as I come up with them.
Pairings: disabled female reader x Bucky Barnes
Description: Reader has cerebral palsy and is invited by Tony Stark to come interview to work with the Avengers. But the reader ends up seeing Bucky every time she goes to the tower, and things...well....develop.
You remembered your first day in the Avengers tower, and the way everything smelled. It had that obsessively-cleaned smell mixed with that fresh, out-of-the-box anti-staleness that you couldn't quite describe, but that everyone universally understood. The place was taken care of. You had moved yourself up to the receptionist desk on the first floor, which was, unfortunately, nowhere near wheelchair height. You sighed, resigning yourself to be happy that there were several wheelchair enrances and exits in the tower, which was more than could be said for most places. "Hi, I have a meeting with Tony Stark?" The woman at the desk, a slender brunette woman with hair like a flight attendant, graciously stepped out from behind the counter to address you directly. "Ah, Miss Y/L/N, yes? Mr. Stark has been waiting for you." You had been your own kind of superhero up to this point. While your cerebral palsy affected a lot of the motor function in your legs, your upper half was pretty strong. You'd been out on the streets, in the car your brother had designed. It was the size of a Smart car, if not smaller, and tailored to work with your wheelchair. It gave you extra speed, and helped disguise the wheelchair in case you made any enemies. There was a full working computer, top of the line facial recognition software and police scanners. All the weapons were non-lethal as well, and there was a one-person seat behind yours in case you had to drop anyone off to the police. Plus, the top came down so you had the pleasure of personally punching bad guys when you could get close enough. Your brother was currently interning for Stark, and was the one who had brought your alter ego to his attention. "Mr. Stark, I think you'll like this guy. They're really efficient at research and ass-kicking, which are two very important things for a team of superheroes..." It had taken Stark time to decide to bring you in, mostly because he had lots of other potential new teammates. But, ultimately, you were the only one who presented something unique that no one else could offer. You were not jaded, like everyone else in the tower. You were happy, and thriving, and most importantly...you were kind. The flight attendant lady led you to an elevator that she rode on with you. You saw her daintily press the button for the penthouse, and you went up, up, up into the sky. "Mr.Stark has told me so much about you!" Flight attendant lady offered. "He says you're stronger than everyone else on the team." You smiled fondly to yourself. "I work hard, when I can. I'm humbled by his noticing me." When you finally reached the top, flight attendant lady stayed on the elevator and went straight back down to her post. You pushed the joystick on your chair forward, marvelling at the look of the place. Everything was red and sleek and modern. The room you ended up in first was a large common area, and in that area were two people: Bucky Barnes and Captain America. Cap was watching some old cartoons on the television, and laughing at them. You chuckled to yourself at the display. When you looked over at Bucky, he was sitting, curled up, reading. You felt a tightness in your chest as you looked at him. He was magnificent, with long, dark hair and a creased brow, indicative of his being lost in whatever story he was reading. You blushed when you realized you'd stared far too long, and cleared your throat to get their attention. Cap was the first one up. "Oh, hi there! Are you Y/N? We were waiting for you!" Steve put out a hand for you to shake, and you grasped it firmly. You smiled as he shook it. "Yes, I'm really excited to be here. I'm really excited to be given a proper chance." Steve nodded warmly. "Aboslutely. We're happy to have you. This is Bucky!" He turned towards Bucky, who had just approached. You turned your eyes to him and almost forgot to breathe as he extended a hand. Your shake was a bit weaker this time, but no less friendly. "Nice to meet you Bucky." you finally managed. He gave you a little smile. "You too, doll." "Steve clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. "Let me get you to your meeting with Tony, then. See you later, Bucky!" You were sad to leave Bucky, but followed Steve anyway. You didn't see Bucky's eyes trail after you.
The next time you arrived at the tower, it was for your first mission. You and Natasha were partnered together for a simple recon, as a sort of training mission to see how you worked. You glided into the common area, this time empty, and waited for Natasha to gedt you so you could be briefed. As you waited, you flipped on the television and channel surfed until you found a dumb romantic comedy. It happened to be one of your guilty pleasures to watch those types of movies. They made you hope for a happy ending of your own. "I love that one." came a voice from behind you. You whipped your head around to see Bucky there, in sweats and a t-shirt, looking very handsome. "Oh, uh...yeah, I watch them occasionally. Sometimes I'll even pay attention." Bucky laughed, and the sound was breathtaking. "I probably pay attention too much. I just like their...the way they're the same. You know what's going to happen." You nodded, turning your chair slightly so you could get a better glimpse of him. "Predicatability is the safest, most soothing thing in the world. It's like a drug." He took a seat next to you, on the end of one of the couches. "Have you seen this one before?" You shook your head. It was completely unfamiliar. "Well, this one's all about a woman who lost a child, and her husband leaves her, and she thinks she'll never be happy again. But that guy..." he pointed to the conventionally attractive man on the screen. "He changes her mind." "Seems like a heavy plot for a romcom." Bucky seemed confused. "Rom...com?" You giggled. "It's short for romantic comedy." His eyes widened in wonder. "Oh wow. Never heard that before. I'll have to add it to my list." You couldn't help yourself. "You have a list?" "Yeah..." he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "A list of stuff I missed. Being....away for so long." Just then Natasha came in. "Y/N! Sorry I'm late. We should get started." And so you left Bucky there once again, but this time you looked back and saw that he was doing the same thing. You had ventured in and out of the tower several times over the weeks, and every time you had bumped into Bucky somehow. Whether it was on your way to a briefing, in the common area, or grabbing a botle of water from the fridge, he would pop up somehow. Most times you were in a rush and could only say hi, but other times...Other times you would forget you had to be somewhere and you and Bucky would get lost in conversation, only for Wanda or Sam to find you, huge grin on their faces, and lead you back to what you had to do. But worse than those times were the times Bucky was in on the meetings. Then you had to struggle to focus, and not marvel at his adams' apple, or his hair or the way his eyes lit up. It was complete torture. As you were leaving the tower one Saturday, chatting with Wanda about your brothers' latest developments with your car and if you'd had any progress on picking a name for yourself, a hand tapped gently on your shoulder. Wanda was quicker to turn around, and she smiled knowingly at who she saw. You turned your head, and Bucky stepped into view. "I'll let you two talk..." she said, sauntering away. "Hi Bucky. Is anything wrong?" Not that something needed to be wrong for Bucky to talk to you. Right? He was totally your friend...You hoped... Bucky looked around, waiting for the leftover Avengers to disperse. When he appeared to feel comfortable, he looked you dead in the eye. His dark brown eyes were full of unidentified emotion. "Y/N..." he started. "I think you're a wonderful person." He took a step forward and grabbed one of your hands, stroking the back of it. You involuntarily tensed. While you lived a happy, fulfilling life, there were always those people who felt they needed to distance themselves from you because of your cerebral palsy. As if it was something that made you worth less. And you never let any of those people get to you, because the majority of the people in your life were nothing like that. But Bucky being one of those people? You didn't know if you could take that. "Buck-" "Please, Y.N...will you go out with me tonight? On a proper date?" You were so floored by the question you didn't have time to formulate a response. Bucky seemed to take your silence negatively, and began drawing away. You finally broke from your stupor and tightened your grip on Bucky's hand just as he was about to pull away. "I...wasn't expecting that. But I would love to go out with you. Truly." Bucky's smile was wide and you couldn't help but give him a big one back.
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minaminokyoko · 7 years ago
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A Love Letter to Black Panther
Disclaimer: Y'all gon' get tired of hearing me scream, "WAKANDA FOREVERRRRRRR!"
Because I mean it. Bless this movie, man. This is everything I have ever dreamt of seeing from a black superhero with an all black cast. They couldn't have done a better job. This movie is a vision, fully realized. It's going to leave a very important impact on pop culture at large and I am so here for that. I've been a black nerd since birth, and to be given a big budget film with a 90% black cast that is backed by a studio giant is so gratifying I can see why some people left the theater in tears of joy. It's not that we haven't had black films before that did well. It's not that we're not giving credit to Blade for being a (mostly) successful film franchise with a black hero at the helm. It's all the elements lining up from having Ryan Coogler direct to grabbing actually African cast members to being marketed during the Superbowl--which is the most expensive ad time you can buy on television--to seeing an amazing integration of tradition, science fiction, and modern topics that are relevant to the black community. I sound like I'm overstating things, but I truly am so happy with how this film turned out. It wasn't a cheap cash grab. It was a genuine attempt to weave a story about African and black culture based around a whole lot of ass-whuppin' and I can't wait to dive in. Follow me, Wakandans.
Naturally, spoiler alert.
Let's start with the man himself, the King of Wakanda, T'Challa. First of all, I knew I'd love him since Civil War. Most people went for Tony or Steve and came out of that movie going, "OH MY GOD BLACK PANTHER IS THE FUCKING BADDEST I CANNOT WAIT FOR HIS SOLO MOVIE DUDE." We all knew he was a total badass, but what I left this movie with was a sincere love for the mercy and compassion he showed us in this film. It's very easy in a position with that kind of power to let it corrupt you and become jaded, but the gestures he made in this film were so lovely. I love that he was outraged by his father trying to erase history with what happened to his uncle and cousin. He was genuinely angry and hurt by it all and in the end, he showed so much kindness by letting Kilmonger see the sunrise before he died that it was honestly touching. I love T'Challa because he has such a big heart. It’s an incredibly important perspective to provide, as much of the world still sees black men as angry, dangerous thugs incapable of kindness. He has flaws as well, like his anger issues and naivete, and that's what makes his journey so compelling. It's very easy to write a royalty character as above it all, but that's why Thor: Ragnarok was so well received recently: they knocked Thor off his princely pedestal and brought him down to our level. We understand what T'Challa is going through even though we aren't royalty. He has a homeland to protect and a family to look after in his father's absence, much like we have our own responsibilities trying to tug us in a thousand different ways. I love that he challenged his father and brought about a new era, extending his help to the world. T'Challa is an excellent character and Chadwick Boseman did a hell of a job with him.
As a black woman, you know what's coming next. My girls Nakia, Okoye, and Shuri. Where do I even start? First of all, let me raise my fist for some lovely dark-skinned women getting the spotlight in a major superhero film franchise. Now, don't get me wrong--I absolutely freaking LOVED Tessa Thompson in Thor: Ragnarok. She slayed. But my heart is just bursting with pride at these beautiful badass women who are given weight, agency, and attention in this film. I have absolutely nothing against light-skinned women at all, but I do acknowledge that they tend to get roles easier than dark-skinned women because society still has this idiotic aversion to them because of the establishment's idea of beauty. It was such a rush to see each woman on screen having inner conflict and deciding what side of the line they would stand on. I love Nakia's stubborn nature and her hesitance to join the fray, but the second T'Challa was gone, she switched into spy mode and she did the damn thing. She saved the people who cared about her, she saved Ross, and she stood up for her country as well as the other people out there who needed her help. You are a diamond, Nakia. Okoye is probably going to come out of this film as the runaway favorite, if you ask me. I mean, Danai Gurira is already worshiped for her role as the amazing Michonne on The Walking Dead, but seeing her here, slicing and stabbing and beating the tar out of everyone while struggling with her loyalty to the Wakandan throne just gives me all the feels. I adored her sharp tongue and her grumpy frown and her impossible awesomeness. Then there's Shuri. I can't express my delight with her. She was such an adorable, witty addition to the team. I fully admit that I fell for the low-hanging fruit: the "WHAT ARE THOOOOOOOSE!" joke was hilarious even though I know no one over the age of thirty is going to have a single clue what she was referencing. I loved her calling Ross "colonizer." Shuri was throwing shade left and right and it was glorious. Furthermore, having her be the gadget gal of the film was brilliantly done. I loved her enthusiasm and her amazing tech. I loved that she bravely fought even though she was inexperienced. She was such a great character and I look forward to seeing beautiful little girls idolizing her mind and her strength in the future.
Kilmonger is definitely one of the strongest villains in the MCU so far. Most people ding Marvel for having thin villains, and that's not an unfair assessment. In my opinion, it's Cutting Room Floor issues. When you have to tell a story in two and a half hours, sometimes there's just too much content that you're excited to fit in and you just can't get it in there, so you take out chunks related to the villain to avoid the hero having an unsatisfying character arc. It's not a great idea, because then your villain isn't three dimensional and it can diminish the overall enjoyment of the film. Kilmonger is the answer to that problem. He had a reason for what he did, and while it wasn't an excuse for his cruelty, it definitely made you think about the fact that every good villain is a hero in his own mind. Kilmonger's plan even tempted someone in T'Challa's camp because it had a serious amount of relevance not only to Africans but black people all over the world. Wanting to stomp out oppression, especially in this day and age, is a trap I think a lot of people can fall into. I love the almost Shakespearean tragedy of it all, that maybe this could have been avoided if T'Chaka stayed behind and explained to the boy where he came from and that he had no choice. It probably wouldn't have worked, but just abandoning the kid with his dead father was ice-cold, and it's more tragic that it was done out of good intentions in T'Chaka's mind. I love that T'Challa sympathized with Erik and even offered to save him in the end. That has weight. That's excellent writing. I do admit, though, that Michael B. Jordan is definitely a young actor, because he was hamming it up pretty hard in certain scenes, but overall the kid did well with the role.
The costume design and scenery were just breathtaking. Man, I love the visuals we got to see. African culture is so vibrant and interesting. I'm really delighted knowing millions of people will get some exposure to all the different aspects and traditions it has to offer.
The soundtrack is killer. From the score to the tracks, it was done truly well.
Andy Serkis as Claw (although I don't appreciate the bait and switch, I can live with it; Marvel always kills their villains that are not Loki and even he is probably going to die in Infinity War). I knew he was an oddball in Age of Ultron, but damn, was he a complete nutcase. I appreciate how completely insane he was the whole time with no real explanation as to why. The simple glee on his face when he giggles, "I made it rain!" was just flawless. He might have the market corned for wackiest Marvel villain thus far. I'm sad that we only got to enjoy two performances from Serkis, but they were still entertaining as hell.
The action sequences had me floored. This is one thing I've always adored about Marvel films. The pacing is always excellent and they know how to wow you. If you follow me at all, you'll know one of the numerous reasons I hated the Justice League movie is that there was NO imagination in ANY of the fight scenes. Black Panther offers some of the best and most creative scenes to enjoy, from hand to hand combat to flipping cars with a fucking vibranium spear. I was cringing and twitching in my seat like I was playing a VR of Tekken, for God's sake. These fight scenes were so well done (though I will ding the film for lighting issues; the jungle scene suffered badly from that problem, as did at least one other one to my chagrin) and I loved everyone's various weapons and fighting styles.
MY BOY BUCKY AT THE END CREDITS YOOOOOOOO. I am infatuated with the idea that the Wakandans analyzed him and have been slowly helping him recover from being brainwashed and abused. It made my cold, petrified heart all warm inside when he smiled and looked out over the water. I just want Bucky to be happy, okay?! Leave me alone!
Well, I've gone on long enough, haven't I? I regret nothing, honestly. This is like The Dark Knight all over again: one of those rare instances when the hype for something was so crazy that we were sure it couldn't deliver, but not only did it deliver, it kicked the hell out of all expectations. I can't wait to see where the road will lead from here. My wish and hope is that this movie does so damn well that Hollywood opens its damned eyes and listens to what we have been saying since the beginning: we want diversity and we want it well done and we want it now. Stop relying on the old ideals of a market that we outgrew decades ago. Black people are just as complex and interesting as everyone else on the planet, and it's time you woke up. We've been doing it ourselves with all kinds of various projects from comic books to novels to short films and you can either lead, follow, or get out the way, as Jidenna once said. Your move, Hollywood.
WAKANDA FOREVER.
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Lords of the Sea
@tuxedo-rabbit is to thank/blame for this
Summary:  Hawke and Isabela are bored without a ship to sail, and the news from Ferelden is as ridiculous as always.
(modern AU, featuring Isabela/f!Hawke, and some minor Alistair/f!Tabris)
Read on AO3 here
The TV in their crappy motel room was turned on to a press conference the king of Ferelden was holding. Hawke, sitting on the floor in front of it, turned it up, half out of national pride, half because most of what came out of the guy's mouth was absolutely hilarious.
“For my latest decree, I, uh, decree, I guess, that all dogs are sovereign citizens of Ferelden,” he announced, looking straight at one random reporter, because he clearly still hadn't managed the art of talking to crowds.
Isabela, hanging upside down off the bed, squinted at the screen. “What?”
“When you say all dogs,” one reporter began, “do you mean just Fereldan dogs? And is there a segregation by, say, breed, because mabari are obviously very intelligent, but some others--”
“All dogs,” King Alistair said firmly.
“Even...dogs in other countries, your majesty?”
The king looked vaguely confused, and struggled to keep professionalism as he answered, “I don't understand what's so difficult about the phrase 'all dogs.’”
Isabela groaned and turned off the TV. “I'm not going to watch what's probably going to be those same questions over and over for the next fifteen minutes,” she told Hawke.
“Fair,” Hawke replied.
This motel was one of many they'd stopped at after leaving (leaving, NOT fleeing, because fleeing implied they weren't welcome, and that they couldn't come back whenever they wanted, both of which were obviously untrue) Kirkwall, and while sneaking around the Free Marches had been fun in the beginning, the monotony of it all was driving Hawke and Isabela insane. They'd already played FMK about their friends about six hundred times and come up with justifications for every choice in every combination and what was there to do after that? Nothing, was Isabela’s thought, except put their ideas into practice.
(“We're not going to kill Anders, Bela. At least not while he's still making us hangover potions.”
“Ugh, fine.”)
So here they were, so bored that not even the king of Ferelden’s ridiculous ideas about governing a country could faze them.
“That guy ever text you back about his boat?” Hawke asked, leaning back against the bed so her head was next to Isabela's.
Isabela scowled. “No. Back to square one, then!”
“We could…” But Hawke couldn't think of anything. “Shit.”
“Hmm.”
Hawke turned the TV back on.
“--does this mean human citizens can no longer own dogs, because they too will be citizens?”
“Will dogs get more or less rights than say, elves, or dwarves? Or mages?”
“Does this mean dogs will be able to vote in local elections? How will that work?”
“Okay! Press conference over,” said the king's press secretary, a man called Nathaniel Howe who had formerly been a soldier under the Queen's command. He ushered King Alistair, who was still trying to yell out things like “if all dogs go to heaven why can't they own themselves?”, back into the castle.
“Your country is a shitshow,” Isabela said dryly.
“Guess Champion of Kirkwoof is a Fereldan citizen now. What a good boy.” The dog's original name was Hawke, because Hawke (the original) had never been good at names, but he had accepted the change with all the grace a mabari could muster.
(The combination of a lack of naming creativity and her childhood obsession with showing ownership over everything had led to her parents being Mom and Dad Hawke, Carver and Bethany being Little Brother and Sister Hawke, and various inanimate objects being things like Apple Tree Hawke, or Barn Hawke. Marian herself was, obviously, just Hawke.)
Champion, hearing his name, excitedly bounded over from the other side of the room and started licking his owner’s face enthusiastically. “Yes. Good boy. Down.” Champion sat back obediently.
“He looks like he wants a walk.”
“You're upside down, how can you tell?”
“Well, men and dogs--”
“Right, okay. I'll take him out. Back soon.” Hawke got up, leashed Champion, and headed out.
They couldn’t stray too far from the motel, in case they were recognized, but Champion made the most of it, spraying his scent on every car in the parking lot, and on most of the doors, too, for good measure. Hawke felt badly that he couldn’t spend more time outside, but mabari were pretty unusual out in the country, and all it would take was one curious idiot to have the templars on them to arrest them for killing Meredith--or worse, that Chantry thing Sister Nightingale was rumored to be running. They’d never be able to get out of it.
Hawke and Champion couldn’t have been gone more than twenty minutes. Half an hour, maybe. But of course, by the time they went back to the room, Isabela was gone.
Gone to see a man about a boat! her note said. Back in a few days ;P
Hawke sighed. “Not surprised. Well, boy, let’s see if there’s anything better on TV, then.”
She wasn’t surprised Isabela had left like that, leaving just a note. She would be surprised if she didn’t come back. Still, this was probably something they should talk about. Both of them hated talking about their feelings. “There’s only one time when you should ask someone how they feel about something,” Isabela said, “and that’s when you’re trying to make sure you’re not about to accidentally commit a felony through lack of communication. Assuming makes an ass out of you and me, after all. Besides, anything less than enthusiastic consent is no fun, anyway.”
Hawke just hoped this new boat wouldn’t fall through like the last dozen. It was like people didn’t want to sell their things to a known pirate. People were stupid.
After three days of catching up on Vael Abbey and Skyping Varric and Bethany about it for over two hours--Varric was doing something in Orlais, last Hawke had heard, and Bethany was following Anders around to random little villages to learn healing but to mostly make sure he didn’t commit any more acts of terrorism--Isabela returned.
“Get your boat?” Hawke asked.
Isabela closed the door behind her, and sighed. Hawke’s heart sank. Not another disappointment.
“I did!”
“You--were you trying to trick me just now?” Hawke jumped off the bed and hugged Isabela.
“The look on your face was hysterical. God, and I thought I hated being cooped up like this the most. I guess I was never alone for it.”
“It’s not so bad. You’ve missed quite an interesting news cycle.”
Isabela rolled her eyes. “Your king and the dogs?”
Hawke summed up the last few days of politics for Isabela.
(“This just in,” the FNN anchor said while Hawke did some stretches in front of the television, two days previous, “Prime Minister Anora Mac Tir has released a statement regarding the king’s decree yesterday granting all dogs citizenship. The statement reads: As of this time, our offices have received no documentation requesting such a decree. We would like to remind King Theirin that Ferelden is a constitutional monarchy, and as such he cannot just say things and have them magically become law.”
Then, the next day, just as Hawke’s pizza was arriving, an emergency press conference by the extremely elusive queen of Ferelden, an elf woman named Kallian, was held. “So, I bet Alistair he wouldn’t actually say the dog decree thing, and he said he totally would, and so I said, there’s no way you’ll make it through a full press conference about that with a straight face. So he said, okay but if I do, you have to take a week off work. It was a deal, so, I guess this is just me saying, no, dogs aren’t citizens, although I think they should be, and I guess starting tomorrow I’m taking a week off work. Alistair is very excited--he has a whole cheese tasting thing planned, and some other stuff. Anyway. Press conference over.” Later, the queen tweeted, “people have been asking what i was going to get if i won: it was the password to the official king of ferelden twitter account,” the idea of which quickly became a meme.)
“So how did you get the ship?”
“Well, while you were out, that guy texted me saying his last buyer fell through, so I should come look at it. It’s not the best I’ve ever seen, but it sails, and I’ve already started putting out feelers for a crew. I probably should have stayed to tell you where I was going, but I was just too excited.” She still looked more excited than sorry, but that was the closest to an apology Hawke was probably going to get, so she was forgiven.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go see it. I can check us out.”
It was a two hour drive to the coast, but it took them about an hour and ten minutes. Isabela’s new ship was docked at a small port, and she actually made Hawke close her eyes when they got there to preserve the surprise.
“Tada! Open them.” Hawke opened her eyes, and looked up at the ship.
It wasn’t as big as the one she’d taken with her mother, Carver, and Bethany when they were fleeing the Blight, and it was ugly as sin, but it was Isabela’s, so she smiled. “It’s--”
What the hell was that written on the side?
“Marian? Isabela!”
Isabela laughed so hard she doubled over. “God! I didn’t even know it was called that until I arrived, but isn’t that the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”
“You cannot have a ship named after me!”
“Who says it’s named after you? I think it’s named after the previous owner’s grandmother--ow! Okay, we’ll repaint it, it’ll be the Bethany-- OW! Hawke! Stop smacking my shoulder.”
“I am very happy for you,” Hawke said, through gritted teeth, “even if this is a stupid coincidence.”
“I would prefer to call it fate, but sure, that works too.”
“Well, come on then. Let’s go christen your captain’s quarters.”
And aboard the Marian Bethany Siren’s Call 2, the two of them lived happily ever after.
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