#I’m literally going to fly to him on the day it��s due and we will make recordings together at his childhood house | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

babytaes · 4 years ago

Text

†hê Ðêmðñ (the beauty of sin)

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You're a guardian angel who's never been tasked with protecting anyone. Since you've been here since Creation, sitting around in heaven hasn't brought you any rewards. You were looking forward to the day when you'd be assigned a human to look after. When that day finally arrives, things take an unexpected turn when you are assigned to Heeseung, a demon from the underworld.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: heeseung x female reader

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst, suggestive/smut

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 4k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: profanity, smut scenes, bad boy heeseung (lol),

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: click me before reading!

➳ part of the drunk & dazed series

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

Sin is a spiritual virus that invades the whole being. It makes you morally and spiritually weak. It’s a deadly disease that infects every part of you: your body, your mind, your emotions, and your motives—absolutely everything. Nobody has the strength on their own to overcome its power.

Nobody should ever commit sin, never giving in to their worldly and sinful impulses. It's unjust and wrong. However, what is it about sin that makes it so fascinating and enjoyable?

It gave you joy to see it in his smile or the way his hands caressed your body. What a lovely thing sin is!

Even though some sins are innocent and enjoyable, sometimes regulations are supposed to be broken. Everyone, after all, is a sinner.

“WHAT!?,?” You began to sweat as you worriedly communicated your concerns to your overseer, “You must be mistaken, High Lord.”

“I understand the protocol; angels are supposed to serve as "guardian angels" to beautiful or broken souls on Earth. You know we're expected to look after them and keep an eye on them to make sure they stay on track. With all due respect, ma'am, I don't believe I'm qualified for this position; at the very least, someone of level 10 would be ideal.”

Her cream-colored wings swept her off her feet as she chuckled and waved for you to follow her. You sighed as you flutter up and away with her, trailing behind her, feeling a twitch in yours.

As you eventually caught up to her, dodging angels left and right, you apologized to random angels in your path, uncomfortably smiled at the people you bumped into with your wings.

You retracted your wings closer to you and walked uneasily beside your overseer as you carefully stepped down on the golden road.

Before you could say anything, she quietly took your hand in hers and gently kissed it, assuring you that everything would be alright. As you approached the center of the commotion, you bit your lower lip and remained silent.

Looking around at the community, it warmed your heart to see so many people, young and old, out here. Some you've known since the beginning of time, while others were born only last week. Everyone had gathered to witness the masterpiece that would emerge in an instant.

“You know Y/N I have complete faith in you that this first expedition will be a breeze,” you smiled, looking up at her with excitement and a tinge of fear in your eyes. “We wouldn't have suggested you for the job unless we knew who you really are, and you've earned it.” Don't worry, you were expecting this; now have a look.”

With her finger pointing to the stage forward, you were treated to yet another spectacular show. They're known as the "Grand Turning" in Heaven. This is where a new or seasoned angel has completed his or her training with a human or demon and earned their proper place in the community.

It could be a badge, a ribbon, or something more unique, such as the opportunity to talk with the all-powerful, our God.

Despite the fact that you were assigned to him, you were determined to get those jobs because they were the only way for you to ever get that honor. You weren't going to allow Mr. Unperfect take away that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Nobody could and will ever be able to make you fail this assignment; you were meticulously prepped. You were taught the correct and only way to do things, and now was your opportunity to shine. You were not going to be a Lucifer, cast from Heaven

“I'll do it,” you said to your supervisor, a smile on your face and confidence in your eyes. She turned to face you and hugged you passionately, rubbing your wings with a motherly devotion.

“I knew you could do it; now it's time to get you ready.”

---

When people have a near-death experience, they always remark that life flashes before their eyes. Unfortunately for angels, it's the contrary; when we're approached with a high-alert danger or warning, it's more of a gentle whisper in our ears. Normally more attentive while traveling to Earth.

The best place to be humans say.. What is with these fickle minded words?

You take a deep breath and turn to face your overseer, who is polishing her wings to ensure that they are kept in order. When having wings, a routine is taught from the beginning to keep them in a good up do. Nobody wants to look simple when you can look stunning.

She took your hand in hers and walked toward the end of the route, issuing some documents to the Pearl City Gate guards. You noticed the circular orb while glancing around.

"How can some humans believe in the world being flat, we literally have an air-like view. To me, it's definitely round.” She chuckled as she pinched your cheeks and turned your puzzled face to her.

“When you get down to earth, you'll see a lot of that, people with a lot of opinions. But what did you learn in your training?”

Standing up and smoothing your wings, you calmly shouted out the words as if they were written on the back of your palm.

“Although humans are the destroyers of their own precious planet, everyone's opinion matters, regardless of race, gender, or identity.”

“Well, not all,” you began scratching your head, “I've seen some harsh individuals in our study books, God should strike them down-“

“Um no ma'am, let us put it aside for the time being and focus on what needs to be done.” She started going over a list of laws and regulations for your descent to Earth. As you gave her a thumbs up, you were attentively listening and mentally bookmarking everything in their designated area.

I believe I have a good understanding of everything, and I think I am prepared.” She offered you a short hug before letting you go, showing her affection for you. You were going to miss her, despite the fact that it was a mutually-surface relationship.

“Last but not least, this ordeal will be different in that people will be able to see you. But if you have to use your wings, the lad is the only one who can see you. When you arrive, he will be waiting for you. My child, best of luck and may God bless you.”

You let go of her and moved toward the road's edge, gripping your bag as you turned to face her and waved farewell as you stepped over the brink.

“Wait a minute, what if-“

When you felt a push from behind, you tumbled off the ledge and spun around in the sky, where you saw a smiling face as you glanced up. They didn't tell you that you'd have to be pushed. As you plunged to Earth, you closed your eyes, terrified. Oh, how nice.

Screaming, you descended into the atmosphere, your narrowed eyes seeing glimpses of land here and there. Not letting up you let your wings cover your whole body as you plopped down onto soft green grass.

You peered out from your wings, gasping for air, and glanced up.

“Oh, Heavens”

His physique was slender, active, and well-groomed, with a trace of bad boy behavior in his scent. The first thing that struck your eye were the rips in his jeans. How could a man-made mistake seem to be so appealing? As you raised your eyes, you noticed tattoos splattered across his arms and up to his neck. His black velvet-like wings fluttering in the breeze, he raised his palm to his hair and stroked through the old curls, deconstructing the pattern they had once formed.

“Did you just pull a Lucifer or was this all planned?” he coughed as he put out his hand to you, taking a good look at you.

Stuttering in your words you quickly got up and patted yourself off and finally looked him in the eyes, noticing his dark eyes.

“Well, that wasn't supposed to happen, I hoped to fly down here and appear more Angel-like, but I think my overseer had other ideas.”

He said, "Ah," with a bored expression on his face.

“My name is Heeseung, and if you don't mind, I assume you don't.” I guess my name is well-known in Heaven. You're probably the fifth Angel who has appeared in the last year to “assist me.” What a load of bullshit; you can't hide what's already there, you know.”

He made a pouty look as he smirked closer to you before covering his hand with his mouth and saying, “oh forgive me, I suppose I have a potty mouth.”

Panicking at this new light, you smiled and coughed loudly and suddenly, “Before you say anything else, I'd want to inform you that I'm not like those angels we don't talk about. I have a holy standard that I adhere to.

He rushed to your face, rolling his eyes at your innocence, and murmured to you, "well see about that little Ms. Purity."

As you moved back and shook your head, spurring out prayers, you tugged the strings of your bag close to you, seeming irritated. Looking up, you noticed him hovering in mid-air with his arms crossed, waiting for you.

“Whether you're coming or not, I'm in the mood for a cup of coffee. Allow me to go fetch you one so that this whole ordeal between us may be over soon and we can both return to our respective worlds.”

You instantly snap open your wings and shot up into the sky, scoffing at his rudeness, and dash by him, racing to the left.

“It's this way, dummy,” he cackled as he immediately shot out. Embarrassed and annoyed, you flipped over to his side and flew alongside him, praying to the Lord for peace as your rage subsided.

“Lord, so help me”

---

“So, what's on the agenda, Ms. Purity? There are a lot of things I'd want to do with you. You know, if you just ditch this whole act, we might be able to have some fun. He winked at you as he sipped his drink while peering across the table.

You shook your head and chuckled, gagging at his remark, "You must get all the girls, you appear really, what's the word, competent" I'm astonished since I assumed everyone down under was inept.”

He smirked and crossed his legs as he lay startled in his chair, cocking his head to the side. It's not that you were trying to be mean; it's just what you were taught. There are no hard feelings.

“Well, as much as I'd like to keep this delightful little date going, I have a commitment to fulfill. You know, duty calls.” You quickly got up and hurried after him, confused as to where he was going, as he shot up in the air and chuckled, waving farewell to you.

“Wait, Heeseung, you can't just go away like that. We need to figure out how I'm going to find you. You're being impolite by getting up and leaving.” You made yourself look insane since you didn't realize no one could see him. You wouldn't want to be labeled as one of these Earthlings.

You beckoned him down, mentally terrified, “Please can you just come down for a damn second.” Your jaw dropped as you hurriedly covered your mouth. Heeseung's jaw dropped when he appeared in front of you, stunned.

“Gasp, I'm hearing a term I'm sure they don't say in Heaven. Hmm, I suppose the Earth changes people.” He went closer to your ear, his warm arm bouncing on your skin as he giggled, his lips inches away from yours.

“I've already entered my phone number into your phone; you do understand what a phone is, right?” Doesn't matter, I have to get somewhere, and you can locate me later. Okay, I'll see you later.” He swept up in the air and rushed over to the bridge as he vanished into the horizon, rushing out in a haste once more.

You sat back in the coffee chair, wiped your brow, and focused mentally and spiritually, pleading with the Lord for help and forgiveness. You had a feeling this mission was going to be a disaster.

Whining, you threw your hands in the air and sat face down on the table, groaning as you realized this trek. It's no surprise that these honors are well-deserved; it takes a lot of effort.

You cautiously lifted your head and faced the barista after hearing a soft tap on your table. She smiled at you as she set down a piece of paper. You scowled as you inspected the weird set of paper.

“What a jerk, he didn't just leave me to pay for both drinks.” With a shake of your head, you reached inside your bag and drew out a wallet. Your overseer informed you that many people like flaunting and spending their money, so she provided some for you just in case.

As you cleaned up, you began to mentally map out your route through town, mentally picturing the locations and navigating your way home. As you walked over to the cashier, you handed her some money and thanked her before heading out the door.

At the very least, you landed in a fantastic location. It was in the heart of South Korea, and the city was called Seoul, a wonderful metropolis to be sure. You were taught to master specific languages for specific tasks, so communicating wasn't a problem. Despite the fact that you were new in a strange place, you were determined to make the most of it. The first step was to return home and examine the situation.

How to manage Lee Heeseung.

Arriving at your small abode was an adventure in itself; it didn't take long for you to connect your GPS and get going. It was actually fairly pleasant and provided a change of scenery to enjoy. It's not quite Heaven, but it's still lovely. When you finally arrive at your destination, you look up to see a little, charming apartment in front of you.

They really went all out for you, and it's very much in your style. You'd felt right at home as soon as you stepped inside, as it was more modern and sophisticated.

To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing, but it felt good to have your own little place to do anything you wanted. You could get used to this, no wonder why humans never leave their house. Who would want to leave when you have everything here. Food, entertainment, and a BALCONY!!

As you finished exploring the apartment and basked in its magnificence, you laughed to yourself as you made your way to the couch, sinking into its coziness as sleep took over your mind and body.

*Crunch, thud, bang*

As you lurched forward, you flew up your wings in defense mode, trying to understand what you'd heard.

“Who's there? I have a weapon, and I'm not afraid to use it.”

When you hear a familiar giggle, you look up and see the attractive intruder. Walking over to you and snatching the pillow from your grasp he took your hand and pulled you over to the island where he had prepared some food.

As you took it all in, you smelt familiar scents and smiled, completely forgetting about it until you were reminded again.

“Wait, what are you doing in my apartment, and how did you get in?”

He began to remove some pots and pans from the stove while he placed some food on a platter, saying, "I have my methods."

“I'm not sure what you eat up there in Heaven, but I'm guessing it's all healthy and nutritious food.” You laughed and shook your hand in disbelief while shaking your head.

“I don’t think out of all places we would be eating so strictly. It's basically whatever you can get your hands on.. It's guaranteed to be better food than what you'll find in Hell.”

Pulling the dish away from him, you began to pick at the fries, popping one into your mouth and savoring the flavor, “not bad.”

He bowed in front of you, wiped the sweets from his brow, and returned to sit next to you, grabbing a dish and feeding himself some. As the night progressed, you told him the rundown for the next three months.

“So, despite the fact that you're definitely one of the worst jerks I've ever encountered. For this to function, we'll need to create certain ground rules.” Aiming a finger between you and him. “I'm not sure whether you've ever had to do anything for anyone else in your life, but it's all about serving people around here, and that's why I accepted this assignment. Even if you don't want to help yourself, I want to help you.”

As Heeseung shuffled around in his chair, avoiding eye contact with you, the atmosphere became tense.

“Harsh, but keep going.”

Smiling you continued as you tried to wrap your head around this complex creature.

“I understand that we are supposed to protect and guide you to do good, but it appears that we have progressed far beyond that, and we need to start at the source of your problem, which is most likely your heart or mind. What's going on in both?

As his words danced across your lips, he smirked and drew you closer to him.

“Now there's a secret.”

Smirking as your face felt warm, you cocked your head to the side and touched his shoulder before getting up and setting your dish in the sink, cleaning up as piercing eyes stabbed your back.

“I understand what you're thinking, and I've got it all under control.”

He approached you and said, "If you say so," as he put his head against your ear.

2 months later

Everything was certainly out of hand, and he was to blame. Your strategy not only failed, but it was only a matter of time until your overseer found out. And you didn’t want to end up like the last guy tossed from Heaven.

It wasn't all that bad, but who were you kidding, it was a disaster. It wasn't a major shift; rather, it was a series of modest changes. Things like accidentally cursing or hanging out with him at ungodly hours. You convinced yourself that everything was OK.

He drew you into your room and sat you down while hovering over you, gently caressing your body and kissing you.

You smiled and drew him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist and bringing him down on you, closing the distance between you.

Heeseung has been on a mission to damage your "innocent demeanor" for the past two weeks. He intended to show you that it was all a charade and that no one is actually perfect. Despite not knowing what he was going to do, you were up for the challenge. That core part of you didn't take long to succumb to his immoral impulses.

What was the problem as long as you were both happy?

“Heeseung,” you say as he draws you closer to him and unclasps your bra with his free hand. As you slowly rise to assist him, you toss the material to the ground and reach for his sweatpants.

“Someone a little needy, but we are not doing that today. Today is all about pampering my lovely angel. Is it all right?”

Nodding your head, you keep an eye on him as he goes between your legs, halting at the bottom as he eyes your breast and grasps softly as your body adjusts.

“Hurry up,” you grumble as you stare at his sinister grin. As you moan, he places gentle lips along your folds, leaning down to your core. As you twitch under his touch, his finger makes a fast dive between your folds, inciting dampness.

As you whine from the pressure, your eyes flutter shut as he switches his finger out with his tongue, softly licking up your surface.

“mm, close,” you exclaim, your lips wide open as he notices your clit, tongue flicking lustfully against it. As he presses harder on your sensitive region, he laughs as you break apart under his power.

“Oh God, right there.”

“Please don't involve Him in this.” He hits a place as your high comes crashing down on you, chuckling at your reaction. Heeseung is holding you down and watching you quiver wildly as you release juice, which causes him to swallow it before wiping his mouth. As you fall onto his body, overwhelmed and still sensitive to the sensation, he pulls you up.

He lays your exhausted body next to his and wipes any excess arousal from his mouth before kissing your lips.

You both lay in a comfortable stillness for the remainder of the night, your breathing slowly returning to normal as you sign into his arms.

“Perhaps you're right; we're all just horny, messed-up creatures; I mean, even though what we're doing is completely wrong, it was fun to break the rules. My entire life has been focused on doing the right thing and being this upstanding angel. It's fun to deviate from the norm.” As Heeseung witnessed you erupt in rage, you became agitated.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, also I told you.” You both chuckled as you pushed him to the side before coming to a halt in the middle of your conversation, looking concerned at him.

“However, I leave tomorrow and I don't think I'll be ready to see you off, and this was not in my plan.”

“Shhh, I figured it out; just stick to my plan and we'll both come out on top.”

You sat closer to him, nodding your head and clasping your hand in his as you allowed sleep to take over your body.

As you may know, angels and humans have quite distinct punishments; some humans are never punished for their wrongdoings, whereas angels' actions are usually discovered one way or another.

And you were terrified that they would find out. The person who fell from the edge was not the same person who was returning back and everyone was going to know it. Just not right now, you had to maintain your composure as you approached your overseer.

As you were greeted with the overseer and some guards, you held Heeseung by his chains and whispered something into his ear.

“I see you were having a good time?” You shook your head and looked down, worried. You looked up at her with sad eyes.

“Yes, High Lord, I am aware of my error and what needs to be done in order to be purified once more. I accept complete responsibility for this assignment, but I crack him first, and we have all the secrets we need.”

As he observed you return to the opposite side with the overseer, Heeseung's gaze shifted up in fright. Fearing for his life, he flailed his wings in an attempt to flee.

“What the hell, Y/N, I thought we were on the same team.” How could you betray me in such a way?” You walked over to his trembling body and pushed him down so you were above him, laughing loudly. You patted his shoulder as you cackled.

“And they said angels could be trustworthy. I know what I'm worth, and it has nothing to do with you. Heseeung, please accept my apologies. Get him out of here.” The guards grabbed his chains and dragged him to a chamber across the room from you.

As she began to compliment you on your efforts, the supervisor wrapped her arm around your shoulder.

“I'm proud of you, Y/N, even though you used some terrible techniques. I knew you'd be able to pull it off.”

You grinned joyously and thanked her for her faith in you as you looked up at her face. You cast another peek at Heeseung as she stepped forward, and he winked at you. Smirking before he disappeared into the room you chuckled at his behavior.

Everything was going swimmingly, and no one had a clue. I suppose taking over Heaven would be a simple task; if you can blow up the inside, everything will fall apart on its own.

"How could you hide this from all of us?" "Oh God, you underestimated me."

The Beauty of Sin.

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

➳ Navigate to the Maze

#enhypen #enhypen writers #enhypen series #enhypen angst #enhypen suggestive #enhypen smut #lee heeseung #heeseung #enhypen heeseung #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen reactions #en-#kpop au #enhypen au #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen masterlist #babytaes works

281 notes · View notes

ultimateluckystudent-writes · 4 years ago

Note

hello! if this isn’t too weird, i’d like to request nagito and his fem s/o being heard having...seggs...... (maybe? possibly? perhaps? you can include the seggs scene?? if it’s not too much..) and the next morning their classmates are literally like 🧍‍♂️🧍🏻‍♀️ and it’s so awkward 😭😭 I CAN JUST IMAGINE HIYOKO AND MAHIRU LIKE 😀🤬 and everyone else like 😅😐please don’t feel obligated to do it but if you do then thank you so much!!! have a great day/night

Nagito and S/O being overheard

Anon, you're a genius. Absolutely, this is my favorite request I've gotten so far I had to do this first (even... if I'm... really late) It kind of spiraled into a little fic with smut and fluff but eh, the more the merrier right?

-Mod Usami

Word Count: 1.9k

Content Warnings: Island Mode AU! Some smut at the beginning, the rest is pretty fluffy. If you don't wanna read it, skip to where you see *****

“Fuck! Oh, fuck, yes!” Nagito’s hips hit yours with a fervor that was unfamiliar but completely welcome. His long, bony fingers held your waist tightly to hold himself steady as he fucked you while you lay on your back. Above you, he had a look of complete focus as he worked to keep up his pace. Usually he was quite gentle with you, making you take the reins if you wanted something rougher, but tonight he touched you with a drive you couldn’t place.

It had been much the same earlier, when he brought you off the first time eating you out; however, you had grown accustomed to Nagito’s eagerness when his face was between your legs. You’d been much too distracted by that very tongue laving your clit to notice any difference. When his hips slotted between yours though, the difference was so clear.

One of Nagito’s hands moved from its place on your torso to the back of your thigh, pushing it back towards you gently. His eyes remained locked on yours, and though his pace didn’t relent, his eyes were soft and questioning. When you could moaned in response, he couldn’t help but grin to himself a bit. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper,

“My hope...” He choked out, obviously attempting to remain steady even while he was so pleased. “I- you- you sound beautiful already and- and I know this is a selfish request-”

“Wh- What do you want, Nah- ah! Nagito!” You’d meant to continue on, but it was rather difficult. Your fingers dug into the sheets. Nagito moaned aloud at his name, his brows furrowing.

“Yes! My- my name! Just like that!”

“Of course, my pretty boy.” You managed to give him a sloppy half-smile. You let your head fall back once more as he continued. “Nagito! Oh, ah, Nagito! Fuck, baby you’re- you’re so good!” Your hand began to reach down to your clit, but his voice interrupted you.

“P- please, allow me-” He adjusted himself so he was pressed further down into you, one arm supporting himself on the bed and the other beginning to rub circles around your clit, one of your legs over his shoulder. All at once you were enveloped in how good he was making you feel, and knew you weren’t going to last long.

“Oh, Nagito, Nagito, Nagito!” Your voice was almost a whisper, chanting his name like a prayer. The leg not already against him came to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. “I’m- I’m close-”

“Yes!” He moaned. “Please, please cum for me- I want to see you, I wanna see you-”

“Nagito!” A particularly electric motion from his hands caused your own to fly into his hair. “Nagito, Nagito- ah!” Your legs shook as you came, left trembling in his hands, and he didn’t last much longer. As he came, he leaned down as much as he could while still pumping into you to kiss and bite down on your neck. He peppered kisses all over you as you both lie in the aftershocks, panting in between nips and kisses. At last, he sucked hard on a spot by your pulse point, making you shiver while he marked you. “Nagito...” You whined. “You’re gonna leave marks...”

“Forgive me, my love, I selfishly crave nothing more than to see you completely marked up by my hand.” He murmured, his voice breathy and sleepy. You giggled, a bit out of it yourself.

“You talk funny.” You nudged him to move and he finally stood back up and wiped the sweat off of his brow. After cleaning up a bit and hitting the light, the two of you crawled back into bed to finally get some rest. You held his head close to your chest and played with his hair, and you were quickly asleep. Nagito needed to try a bit harder to fall asleep. He was facing the window he’d noticed he’d left open earlier, and tried not to laugh too much and make you stir.

*****

“Good morning everyone! It’s another beautiful day on the island! Please eat breakfast and do your very best today! Love, love!” Usami's voice crackled through the tv in your room. You internally groaned, upset that you could never find a way to turn that damn monitor down, until the events of last night came back to you. You smiled to yourself as you pulled Nagito closer, right while he was in the middle of a yawn.

“Morning breath.” You grumbled, moving to kiss him on the cheek.

“Nobody made you kiss me in the middle of my yawn. Least of all me.” He protested, but he sounded pleased. “Good morning.” You simply grumbled in response, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “We’re expected at breakfast eventually.”

“So what?” You grinned deviously and peeked open your eyes just enough to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to his neck. He made a little squeaking noise and tilted his head to give you more access.

“Ah- as much as I- oh- enjoy your intimacy...” He swallowed hard, as if he was preparing himself for what he was going to say next. You didn’t relent. “We really shouldn’t do this every time we wake up together- we end up la- hah- hmm.” His voice died down into a hum as you began to suck on his neck. “Didn’t you complain about marks just last night?” His voice was strained. His hands found your sides and held on tight, despite his hesitant words.

“Yeah, but they’re probably already there, so it doesn’t matter now, does it?” You said in between your kisses. You pulled away just for a second to see that you were in fact leaving red marks something deep within you hoped would bloom into something darker. My precious boy… maybe they’ll all stop being so rude to you if they understand you’re mine.

“Well, there wouldn’t have been anything to connect it to me.” He said seriously. A laugh bubbled up out of you. “What?”

“Nothing.” You lied. Nothing would connect it to you except all the time we spend together, the way you cling to me when other people are around, those puppy-dog eyes you give me in front of everybody whenever we’re sent to collect in different areas… “But your logic is flawed.” You argued, moving to straddle his hips. He looked awestruck under you, something that made you falter for a moment. “Everyone else would know it wasn’t them, and that would likely narrow it down because...”

“Because?”

“You’re not the best liar when asked something directly, Ko-chan.” You giggled, tapping him on the nose. His eyes crossed trying to follow it.

“You’re probably right.” He beamed. You rolled your eyes. He seemed like he was in too good of a mood now to disagree with anyone. You leaned down to kiss his forehead and your feet finally found their way onto the floor. You felt much more energized now. You and Nagito began to get ready for the day. Nagito had begun to keep clothes in your cabin at your insistence and desire to have as much time with him in bed in the mornings. Still, between your conversations and extra kisses you both snuck, you found yourself late to breakfast.

“You don’t want to walk in separately?” He asked. “It might be rather… suspicious if we walked in at the same time. Especially with… these.” He gestured at your necks, which were marked up in matching fashion, though yours were a bit darker due to time. Despite his words, you’d seen the way Nagito smiled when he caught sight of himself in the mirror earlier, something you hadn’t seen him do… ever.

“I don’t mind, really, Nagito.” You took his hand and kissed his knuckles, making him blush once more. His face was already almost permanently red around you. “Besides, it’s not like anyone actually cares if we’re fucking… they probably won’t think at all about ”

“Ah...” Nagito pursed his lips as you finished climbing the stairs to the hotel’s restaurant. “About that...” His words fell on deaf ears however, as you pushed open the doors. All your classmates were already there, and though you expected to be able to slip in without much notice, all conversation paused as the two of you walked in. Everybody’s eyes turned to you at once.

“Good mo-or-orning lovebirds!” Ibuki sang, waving her utensils and accidentally splattering some of her food onto Byakuya. You froze completely, your eyes widening.

“Good morning, Mioda-san.” Nagito said from behind you. You turned to him, but he seemed most unfazed. There was still a light blush on his cheeks, but you couldn’t tell if that was from earlier or now.

“Mioda-chan!” Mahiru said crossly. “We agreed I would talk to them about it first!”

“Oh, fuck.” You covered your face with your hands. “Oh my fucking God. They all already knew.”

“Well… if it helps, we- we didn’t know until last night.” Mikan laughed nervously, before her own eyes widened. “Oh no! That probably doesn’t help! I’m so sorry, Koizumi-san!”

“Last night? What- oh no.” You could feel your face begin to burn. “Did.. did you...”

“A lot of us… heard you last night, yes.” Chiaki nodded. “Though I believe it was mostly the girls, as it came from the girls’ side of the dorms.”

“Komaeda, my man, I never thought I’d say this but like… how’d you do it?” Kazuichi asked.

“Now is not the time Soda-san!” Sonia chided. “(L/N)-san, did he at least pay you first?”

“I’m gonna do it.” You whispered to yourself. “I’m gonna walk into the ocean and never come back-”

“It’s somehow not that sort of deal. I keep trying but-” Nagito shrugged. You turned and glared at him furiously. “I sense I’ve made a mistake of some sort.”

“She doesn’t make him pay!” Hiyoko smirked, and just from the look you knew you wouldn’t like where this was going. “We all heard last night how much of a cum dump you are!” Several people gasped. Your face froze in what must have looked like a delirious grin. Your mind wouldn’t even register the words she was saying.

“I wish I could have heard.” Teruteru whined. “I’m sure the lady sounded… orgasmic in more than one sense of the word.”

“Haha!” Nagito said the words instead of actually laughing as he stepped out in front of you. He was smiling, but his eyes were cold. “I believe, besides last night, those sounds are usually reserved for me.”

“Whatever, weird choice aside, if she’s getting it from who she wants it’s cool!” Akane said around a mouthful of egg. “As long as she keeps it down! I almost didn’t make it to my early morning run today!”

“Thank you for getting us back to the point, Owari.” Byakuya sighed. “I hate this conversation with a newfound passion. Keep it down, please. Make sure your windows are closed.”

“What? But my windows are almost always closed!” You protested, thankful for the further change. “We’ve got AC, why would I-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Fuyuhiko groaned, shoving his chair away from the table. “And now I’ve completely lost my appetite. Can we go, Pekoyama?” She gave a curt nod, and they left to clear their plates.

“That’s cool! I’m gonna throw myself off one of the bridges today anyways!” You waved at them all. “Toodaloo!” With that, you began to walk away.

“She’s joking… I think.” You heard Nagito say behind you.

“I’m not!”

“...I’ll go with her. Ah, we’ll see you all at morning delegations- hey, wait up!”

#nagito komaeda #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #danganronpa #dr2 #bunnywrites #request

205 notes · View notes

toujoursmiraculous · 3 years ago

Text

Thoughts and Reaction to SIMPLEMAN

A day late but that's what happens when good subs aren't out until the next day, and you're busy that day. This episode is so sweet and wholesome that it was worth it, for sure. I'm still not sure which one is Ella and which one is Etta. They're always addressed together so I just don't know, but I'd like to. ;-; (Note: Looked it up on Wikia, the one in pink with seafoam earrings is Etta, the one in seafoam and pink earrings is Ella) See Nino knows. Nino's concerned about Marinette babysitting three kids already. He lives with one all the time, times that by 4 and WOO that's crazy. Sweet of her to want to ensure her best friend has some time to relax with her boyfriend. Oh. OH those poor Kwami! Especially Fluff and her ears being pulled like a game of tug-of-war! I can see it now, Fluff now traumatized by young kids. So if Alix ever has any in the future, they better grow up knowing about Fluff right away or she's in for a horror show. PV TRAILER AND MUSIC! I'm such a fan of the music and the PV that when my sister told me about it, it made me even more excited for this episode than I already was. And I was very excited already! Manon: So? Aren't you going to answer it? She knows what's up. So Adrien's calling asking Marinette to help sew on a wing? Because nobody else there can do it? I dunno, sounds kind of sus to me, Adrien. Are you sure you're not using that as an excuse just to see your "friend"?

Marinette's biggest problem is thinking so far ahead in her brain that when she goes to speak, she's either way far ahead of herself or gets everything mixed up as it comes out of her mouth. If she just lived in the moment and didn't plan (which being Ladybug that's probably very hard not to do outside the costume), she'd be able to do this and overcome that fear of rejection as well. She seems to have that part fairly taken care though. When Gina said she was in China to learn Kung Fu and met a girl that reminded her of Marinette, instantly thought about Fei. How could it not be her? Rolland gets asked to babysit, immediately is like "Let's do something fun and dangerous!" Tom must have had an interesting childhood with Rolland and Gina. o.o Clearly Rolland doesn't realize who the heroes are based on. Or just completely forgot he met them when Bakerix. xD Adrien's so sweet with Marinette, even if he can't understand a single thing she says. That's adorable. But a really good way to thank her could've been "Would you stay and watch the photoshoot, and then maybe we could go do something fun/get something to eat after?" BOOM. Problems solved. But I have a feeling this may come back later, and maybe that would turn out better. Marinette's grandparents tend to give Hawk Moth/Shadowmoth the most sass and trouble in comparison to other Parisians. XD Rolland is so sweet to these kids, and they are so caring towards him. It's so wholesome! Just think: if that helicopter wasn't crashing behind her, she would've screamed she loved Adrien. So close. Simpleman is the chillest akuma. Being all "Hey kids, even though I'm akumatized, let's go out into the city!" and the kids are like "Yeah, okay. Hey let's get ice cream!"

Him protecting them from all the flying pizza boxes that guy was throwing around everywhere was super sweet too. LB and CN: Things are complicated. So we should find Shadow Moth directly. Let's run around the city screaming for him to come find us so we can fight him! I seriously think if Chat Noir or Ladybug brought up the fact that their identities made things complicated, they would've revealed themselves right then and there. LOL at the old school fighting and them behaving like young children xD "NO!" "I'm NaNa, ClaCla is no longer with NaNa! Paris is really messy! BuggyBug, KittyKity, help us!" Oh this is going to be so hilarious in the English dub with the voice actress who also voices Nathalie. XDDD A bouncy ball is very complicated for Ladybug. That a literal 5 year old can figure out. Wow this villain's power sure did a number on her. xD I find it all the more stressful actually, that Chat Noir and Ladybug can remember what they were doing the whole time they were affected by the akuma. That means if Marinette said she loved him, or they revealed their identities, there would be no going back or being able to make an excuse for it. Can we just talk about how those kids could understand that the reason he wants things to be simple and is upset that the world is so different, is because it scares him and he doesn't think he's capable of learning and changing with the world? A majority of adults these days can't even take two seconds to try to understand someone else's situation(s) before judging and being outright nasty people towards them. Yet these kids were able to do so. And a lot of kids actually are like they are in real life. Some may see this as an episode just for kids to appreciate, but there's a lot in here that's aimed at adults, too. Adults need reminders and these lessons just as much, if not more so than young kids. It's adults that lose their way and needed to be reminded of it, as they have a greater immediate impact on the world. I've seen so many people judge Rolland, make assumptions about him which is almost always the very worst things they could think of. But this episode shows how caring and willing to learn and understand he really is, he was just hiding behind his fear of change and not being able to keep up with it. Some lessons in this episode for the adult viewers are: -You're never too old to learn, get over your fears, try new things, become a better person, and see things through new eyes. -Don't over-complicate or overthink, but don't be lazy and think keeping everything simple will actually in reality be the answer, sometimes it can make things worse! -Kids tend to see the world as things are, not what they think it should be, or believing they're the center of the universe like adults tend to do. -Being wise means knowing that regardless of your field, educational background, age, or lived experiences, you don't know everything, there is always more for you to learn about everything out there. The kids in this show are quite wise, as they know that there is so much they don't know and how they treat learning new things. They also know how adults tend to understand, or act like they understand everything, so we as adults aren't used to it when we don't and react negatively to that because it scares us when we don't know. In that way, this episode was very brilliant! Also that hug at the end, oh you can bet these kids are going to want to go visit Grandpa Rolland, and honestly I'd love to see bits of them here and there, their bonds are adorable and they've changed his life in such a positive way. Also the pure Ladynoir without another hero or Alya or any kind of upsetting situation was honestly such a breath of fresh air! Maybe not the kind of Ladynoir people wanted, but it made me happy. Marinette acknowledged her problem is she's scared of Adrien rejecting her. First step is admitting it! Can't blame her for not being able to do what she wanted, she only just realized the issue after all. It's going to take a little time now to work on it! Is it just me, or

does it seem Adrien's almost trying not to laugh when she was messing up and then asked if he liked fishing? XD Maybe it was the actors tone with the facial expression but it seemed that way! But the way he just watches her run away and does that adorable little chuckle... Oh Adrien, we really need you to start realizing why you keep doing that. "She (Ladybug) reminds me of your grandmother and you know what? You look exactly like her (Ladybug)." Well. Oop. He's onto you! Apparently Rolland isn't blind, as not a single character suspected her from her personality or appearance to be Ladybug so far. Even Adrien only began piecing it together due to circumstances (and his own personal wish that Marinette is LB, you can't convince me otherwise this isn't true). This is going to come back later, possibly Dearest Family? Overall such a good episode with a lot of things in it, if you decide to watch without high expectations or biases. After all the angst lately, it was certainly needed as a nice change of pace.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml spoilers #ml season 4 spoilers #ml spoilers season 4 #simpleman #simpleman spoilers #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #rolland dupain #chris lahiffe #ella cesaire #etta cesaire #manon chamack #toujoursmiraculous' thoughts and reactions #thoughts and reactions

65 notes · View notes

bostonbashers · 4 years ago

Note

mercs reacting to their s/o saying i love you to them for the first time? :^0

i’m so sorry if this is ooc but i’m still trying to grasp the characters so please give me time!

i’m gonna assume this is romanced and a newfound relationship!

thank you so much for requesting & please enjoy! ❤️

Scout:

baffled to the max. utterly speechless and when he does speak? it’s absolute gibberish. what is the english language, my guy? you have one brain cell and for what?

it takes a while for him to compose himself but when he does, he tries to keep his whole confident, snarky guy facade up while he addresses his s/o’s confession; “why wouldn’t ya love me, toots?” the blush gives it away, really, but you don’t point it out for the sake of his pride.

inwardly, hes fucking dying and a blushing mess, wanting nothing more but for his s/o to say those words again. when his s/o rolls their eyes playfully and shoots him a snarky response, he throws his arm over their shoulder with a smirk. “don’t get your undies in a bunch. i love ya too, toots.” oh you know hes about to brag about it the whole day... and probably gonna scream into his pillow while he’s at it.

Soldier:

grins for a creepy amount of time, leaving his s/o feeling awkward as they stand there, waiting for some kind of answer. no blush, no signs of reaction, no... nothing but a smile that stayed plastered on his face.

“jan- ah!” he would grab both sides of their face and pull them to him as he placed a breathtaking kiss on their lips. he’d pull away after a while, trying to catch his breath as his voice thundered loudly.

“how’s that for an i love you?!” he’d grin proudly as his s/o stared back at him with a dazed and flushed expression, unable to capture the words to respond. it’d honestly be a while until he received even a word from them and it just shows he’s done his mission well.

Pyro:

let’s face it, they’d probably react to the confession the quickest and reciprocate their words just as fast as it left their mouth.

pyro would immediately jump around in glee and envelope them into the biggest hug they could possibly give, speaking in words that they couldn’t quite understand. lots and lots of giggles as they literally squeeze the air out of their lungs.

once they released their s/o, they’d pull them away, a skip in their step as they went down the hall. his s/o would soon realize that pyro was taking them to a date and they’d laugh at their cuteness, following along with them.

Demo:

tavish would be the first to say those three words to his s/o, wanting to reassure them as much as possible that he does indeed love them. his s/o, however, is far too shy to ever say it back but he knows they mean well so it’s not a big issue.

but when his s/o does return those three special words one day, he grins like a madman and takes them into his arms, spinning them in the air. he lets out a laugh full of happiness, the most he’s ever allowed to escape in a long time.

when he puts them down, he’s still in disbelief. he’s gotten so used to him just saying it that the thought of them returning it back was nearly void. “ya love me, lass?!” and when they answered with a shy ‘yes’, he’s one second away from smothering them in a kiss.

Heavy:

his eyes go wide for a mere moment, processing the words that had just left their mouth. he turns to walk over to them and lets out a grin, placing his big hand on their head.

“heavy loves (y/n) very much.” he says with a bright expression, his voice filled with love and happiness. his s/o smiles brightly at him with a blush on their cheeks and he nearly melts at the sight.

they rush up to hug him tightly with a laugh and hes caught in surprise once more, his hands flying up. once his s/o mutters a soft, “thank you”, against his clothes, he closes his eyes in bliss and returns the hug, rubbing their back soothingly.

Medic:

he gets excited. not the whole jumpy, screaming and all up in your face excited, but enough to show it’s visible upon hearing those words. a big grin and joyful eyes is more than enough to really display that he appreciated their words.

somehow, he accidentally blurts out the same phrase but in his own language due to his excitement and doesn’t realize it until they raise a brow in confusion. “uhm, i kinda lost you there for a second.”

he would let out an awkward laugh at first with a small, ‘oh, right,’ and grabs both his s/o’s hands in his as he corrects himself. “tschuldigung! sometimes i get too excited for my own good,” he coughs but a smile automatically replaces it as he stares his s/o in the eyes, “i love you too, liebe.”

Engineer:

turns into a blushy mess, scratching the nape of his neck as his s/o says a simple i love you out of the blue. his flushed face supports the fact that he’s one second away from fainting.

“heh, ain’t that somethin’ to brighten a mans day,” he says, flustered to his core as he stares down at his s/o who smiled at him. dell takes their hand in his, lifting it up to his mouth as he presses a gentle kiss to their knuckles.

“i love ya too, honey bee,” he muttered against their skin, a smile forming on his lips as they blushed, “how’s about we celebrate with a little somethin’, huh? your choice.” they would nod timidly, taking his hand in theirs as they interlocked fingers with him.

Sniper:

sniper.exe has stopped working.

in all seriousness, hes initially an awkward guy when receiving any form of affection and love, not being used to such behavior. half of the time, he doesn’t know how to respond to these situations but somehow, this one feels different. it makes his heart beat in all different directions and he’s a mess.

he takes his hat off and places it on his s/o’s head, desperately trying to hide the cursed redness on his entire face. sniper keeps his hand there so they wouldn’t look up to see his expression. his voice would be shaky as he responded. “oi feel the same way.” even though he’s still awkward with saying the exact words, his s/o gets the message 100%.

Spy:

you best fucking believe this is about to be a romantic moment. spy is the epitome of romance and all that falls under it. he’ll drop whatever the fuck he’s doing the moment he hears his s/o say those words.

he’ll playfully milk it, honestly but won’t push it if his s/o gets bothered or uncomfortable. “i didn’t quite get that, would you mind repeating it for me once more?” those three words were like music to his ears.

whether his s/o did repeat it or not, he’d still approach them and place a hand on their waist while using the other to tilt their chin up. with a husky voice, he’d whisper to them softly before closing the distance; “je t'aime aussi, mon amour.”

722 notes · View notes

renaerys · 3 years ago

Text

PPG One-Shot: Spelling Bee (Brick/Blossom)

Happy birthday to @genovah! She is always inspiring me to come up with more PPG content, a true hero. I’m back with another entry in the ongoing Shooketh, Not Stirred high school AU Reds series for your entertainment. As always, this can be read alone, but it happens in the same universe as part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5. This is also posted on my AO3.

Summary: Brick and Blossom hunker down in the library to study for the upcoming regional spelling bee.

***Reblogs are extremely appreciated, since this probably won’t show up in the tags due to cursing. Thank you! <3

xxx

In fairness, Brick had come to the library during his free period with the pure intention to learn. And he was certainly learning something. But somewhere between sliding into his seat opposite Blossom and watching her lips move around insouciant as if it were a strawberry slathered in ganache, his purity was torn from his weak, teenage boy fingers and there was absolutely no going back.

“Brick, are you listening to me?” She touched his hand across the table.

“Yup.”

“Did you need me to repeat the word?”

“Yup.”

“In-SOO-see-uhnt.” She sounded it out slowly, and hand to god, that dominating SOO went straight to his cock.

This, of course, was fine.

“Origin?” he asked.

She twirled her hair around her finger and puckered her lips. “French.”

Fuck.

“I…”

Blossom mistook his increasingly horny stupor for plain old stupor and sighed. “Are you even trying? Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were completely fine with Darla Dimpleton going to regionals instead of one of us.”

“I am not fine with that.”

Darla Dimpleton was an unassuming, unthreatening nobody with the personality of plain oatmeal. Brick would never have even bothered to learn her name had she not committed the cardinal sin of scoring so much extra credit while everyone else was busy having lives that she stole the number one GPA right from under him. Which meant she stole it from under Blossom too. Which meant Brick was no longer a respectable silver medal to Blossom’s gold, but currently ranked third and therefor merely happy to be on the podium at all (and for the record, no one has ever been happy merely to be on the podium, just like no one has ever been happy winning Most Improved: you sucked, and now you suck a little less. Except this time, you actually suck more because Darla fucking Dimpleton decided to Quaker Oats her way to the top of this rat race that doesn’t actually matter, but it’s the principle of the thing, i.e., the only thing that matters.).

All of this to say, Darla Dimpleton was the Worst™ and she was one hundred percent going down.

“Are you sure? Because you’re being awfully cavalier about this. Some might even call you insouciant.”

It was a testament to Brick’s powerful fondness for winning and being seen doing it that he spelled insouciant in one Darla Dimpleton-shaped cock blocking breath.

Blossom smiled like she knew something. “Much better.”

Yeah, she knows a lot of things.

The problem with dating, Brick was convinced, was that suddenly the mundane became extraordinary. Everyday experiences that he had previously taken for granted—flying around Townsville, enjoying a cup of coffee, thwarting his sometimes murderous demonic overlord from distributing incriminating polaroids, that sort of thing—were suddenly exciting, thrilling even. Because now he got to do those things with Blossom, and Blossom was cool in a smarmy, elitist sort of way that both softened his heart and hardened his dick all at the same time, and that was kind of A Lot to deal with at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday.

“All right, do me,” Blossom said, and Brick coughed so badly his aforementioned weak, teenage boy fingers shook to stifle himself.

Mercy, he thought, probably. But all his blood was rushing south and it was going to take a supernatural willpower to get through these words so that one of them could beat the upstart porridge peasant to this year’s regional spelling bee.

“You’re the boss,” he said, because it was true, and also because he liked the way she looked at him when he said it. Like he was now the ganache-coated strawberry in this overextended metaphor that he was too laden with Homeric concupiscence being in her general proximity to unpack.

Concupiscence, there’s a ten dollar word for you, you horny genius.

He made a mental note to brag to Blossom about this later.

“Okay, let’s see…” Brick made a show of organizing the flashcards so that she wouldn’t see him discreetly re-situate his pants under the table. “Your word is cymotrichous.”

Blossom tapped her lips, and Brick found himself sympathizing with the Puritans in their absolute befuddlement over the libidinous effect of women having lips. Witchcraft, surely. “Could you use it in a sentence for me?”

Compelled entirely by black magic and therefor not responsible for his imminently questionable choices, Brick obliged her with: “Thinking about how I’d rather run my fingers through your cymotrichous hair for the rest of free period instead of sit here spelling words no one’s ever heard of.”

Blossom, who he was dead certain was extremely thirsty for him and had been for years long before they ever reconciled their rivalry, leaned over the desk separating them. Her hair, long and loose and indeed quite wavy today, was tempting. “Brick, are you flirting with me?”

It was a well-known fact of being a Weak-Fingered, Teenage Boy that one must never reveal such weakness, especially not in front of one’s girlfriend. On the other hand, co-opting said weakness and rebranding it as the suave truth was galaxy brain levels of flirting. And Brick, as has already been established, was a horny genius. “Yup.” He leaned in to meet her, and he twirled her hair between his fingers because they were weak for her, indeed. “How am I doing?”

Blossom, too determined to let her thirst deter her from her goal of sweet, academic retribution and bragging rights, tapped a finger to his lips. “Great. But we have so many words to spell, and only thirty minutes left to do them all. So get shuffling, stud.”

Well, he could work with that. One thing that made his relationship with Blossom work very well was their insatiable competitiveness. Whether they were whaling on each other over an empty parking lot, debating the efficacy of post-its as a note-taking device, or combining their powers to Captain Planet a cornmeal know-it-all back down the leaderboard where she belonged, they were relentless glory chasers. And the greater the challenge, the more they enjoyed the experience and each other.

Blossom spelled her word perfectly, by the way. She stretched out the o-u-s at the end in a bewitching little whisper as she pulled away and her hair slipped through his fingers. That moment when the light changes and the temperature shifts and you’re weightless in a state of existential anticipation of something monumental about to happen, but not quite? That happened. Thirty minutes to explore the shape of that anticipation was enough time to taste it but not enough to savor it. Which, Brick supposed, was about to make this the best thirty minutes he was likely going to get all week.

“Are you ready?” Blossom watched him from behind the card she’d drawn. She had a glint in her eyes that told him she was smiling behind that card.

“Anytime.”

“Your word is eudaemonic.”

That fucking gorgeous ooh again.

“Define it.”

Blossom flushed as though he had just ordered her to bend over. She bit her lip (it must have been a ten Hail Mary’s kind of day when the Witch-Finder General caught a flesh and blood woman doing that with her improbably sorcerous lips) and grinned. “It means producing happiness. Based on the idea of happiness as the proper end of conduct.”

Producing happiness, which is proper, much like how Blossom came off as proper and even prim around adults, when really she was the most fun, most confident, most person he’d ever met, especially when she was spelling in that chiffon top (son of a bitch, that was a great top on her), and the only conduct he was interested in was of the happiest kind.

“Oh.” His throat clenched, and then his stomach twisted, and then his pants grew little too tight again in a full-body chain reaction that began and ended with a fierce determination not to give in first even though it would mean release because release would be meaningless without this etymological tête-à-tête.

Don’t think about tête-à-têtes.

Seventeenth century, noun, borrowed from the French meaning literally “head to head” (please, please stop hurting yourself like this).

“Brick?”

Brick cleared his throat. “Yup. Got it. E-u-d…”

Crisis averted, Brick picked the next card and promptly choked on his own tongue. Blossom made a show like she was concerned and are you all right? and please drink some water. Brick drank her water, which of course she had had her anatomically heretical lips on earlier, which was just fantastic for him. Tuesday fucking morning.

Milieu was her word.

“Milieu, hmm.” Blossom’s smile was spellbinding, which was a pun because he punned when he panicked. “Origin?”

You bitch, he thought, and be cool, and also, witchcraft.

Brick leaned back in his chair, slipped his trembling hands in his pockets, and squeezed every ounce of anything you can do I can do better into a winsome grin. “French.”

Blossom’s adult-facing façade cracked like an egg, and he got a glimpse of the raw delight she felt for this game, for the words, and for him for making it happen. For cultivating the electric milieu, if you will, currently driving them both into a state of impassioned, competitive euphoria at 9:42 a.m. in the library.

“Right, um…” She stumbled over her words, and Brick had to restrain himself from crowing for joy and risk the rheumy-eyed librarian coming to scold them.

By the time they got through another set of words, they were each visibly frustrated and doubly turned on by the other’s masochistic resolve not to throw in the towel.

“Okay, ready for another round?”

She wasn’t even trying to hide her intentions now, and that was just fine with Brick. “Of course.”

One more.

If it was another French word, he was fucking done.

“Really?” Blossom truly had ice in her veins for the way she was able to school her face then. He couldn’t read her, and that was very bad.

If it’s another fucking French word…

He could be over the desk and on her faster than you could say concupiscence.

“Okay.” Blossom set down the flashcard she’d drawn and folded her hands on the table. She looked him dead in the eye licked her lips. “Succedaneum.”

The bookshelf shook but Brick’s fingers didn’t as they pinned Blossom’s over a Dewey Decimal-stamped spine and he kissed her with all the horny passion of a teenage genius who would make a note to thank the devil for giving women lips. One of his better ideas.

xxx

“Hey, has anyone seen Blossom? I’ve sent her, like, four texts!” Bubbles shoved her phone, open to the ignored texts in question, in her sister’s face. “She was supposed to help me with Chem homework.”

Buttercup ducked. “No, and watch where you’re swinging that thing.”

“I saw her earlier,” Boomer said. “She was with Brick coming out of first period.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mike slung his arm around Boomer’s shoulders. “Don’t they both have a free period right now?”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “What a scam. Whoever decided to give the A-students free periods while the rest of us mere mortals gotta slave away is a straight-up Supervillain.”

Boomer snapped his fingers. “Hey, I just remembered! They both decided to compete for the spot at the regional spelling bee this year. I bet that’s what they’re doing.”

“God, that’s the saddest thing I have ever heard in my life. That’s a new low even for Blossom.”

“I heard there’s a cash prize for the regional winner,” Bubbles said. “It’s like twenty thousand bucks! Remember, everyone in school signed up and we had to have that assembly to narrow it down?”

“Twenty thou— How the tits did I miss that?!”

“I mean, it was all over the school,” Mike said. “We signed up too.”

“What? And no one thought to tell me I could’ve won the lottery?”

Boomer chuckled. “Dude, come on. You wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell against Darla Dimpleton.”

“Who?”

Bubbles cast Boomer a not worth it look, and he just sighed. “So, if they’re studying for the spelling bee, do you think they’re in the library?”

At that moment, Butch came bursting down the hall a little too fast to be human. Open lockers rattled on their hinges as he passed, and a Sophomore girl’s binder went flying, scattering looseleaf papers everywhere. Buttercup looked ready to punch him in the dick for breaking the no powers in school rule. “Guys, you’re gonna shit!”

“Calm down before you blow a load, Jesus Christ.” Buttercup yanked him back down to the floor so he wouldn’t spontaneously float.

Sensibly, Boomer asked, “Why?”

“‘Cause Brick and Blossom are making out in the library right now!”

Mike cringed. “Oh, come on.”

“The hell they are,” Buttercup said.

Bubbles smiled. “Good for them.”

“I’m serious! There were books everywhere, and the noise—”

“Oh look, there goes my dignity. Better catch it before it gets away. C’mon, moron.” Buttercup dragged Butch down the hall over his protests. “What were you even doing in the library? I didn’t think you knew where it was…”

“Like that could ever happen,” Mike said. “Those two wouldn’t waste a minute of study time if it means beating out the competition.”

Boomer did not look so convinced. “I don’t know. I mean, they’re officially, for real dating now,”—“Finally!” Mike interjected—“so it’s not that unbelievable.”

The bell for the next period rang. Bubbles groaned thinking of stewing for an hour of Chem. At least she shared that class with Boomer and would not have to suffer alone. They parted from Mike and walked together through the throng of students rushing to get to their next period.

“Hey, do you think…”

“I mean…” Boomer shrugged.

They rounded the corner and nearly ran into Blossom dashing to her next class with a rushed “Got your texts talk later bye!” before she disappeared into the crowd.

Bubbles whirled on Boomer. “Did you see her buttons—”

“Completely uneven—”

The late bell rang and made them jump. Among the last stragglers, they both dashed a bit too fast to get to class and made it to their seats just as Mr. Micelli finished writing a problem on the board.

Boomer winked when she caught his eye a couple desks away from hers, and it took everything she had not to laugh.

“Good for her,” Bubbles said to herself.

“You are late,” Mr. Micelli said.

Everyone turned to watch Brick sink into his seat, his short hair totally askew and looking healthily flushed for a Tuesday morning.

Boomer burst out laughing and needed a whole minute to calm down.

He’d tell her later that the detention was worth it.

xxx

Witchcraft! 👁️👄👁️✨

#powerpuff girls #blossick #ppg reds #ppg blossom #ppg brick #ppg shook #powerpuff girls fanfic #february fic prompts #this probably won't show up in the tag due to cursing #so reblogs are super appreciated!!

69 notes · View notes

holistic-alcoholic · 3 years ago

Text

Love has many faces

pairing: winteriron

rating: T

tags: mutual pining, idiots in love, humor, supporting friends, identity porn, identity reveal

beta’d by @portia77 💜💜💜

Tony was getting very good at this secret identity thing. If only Bucky Barnes stopped asking him out.

(Bucky has a type, and his type is Tony.)

Read below or on Ao3.

“Is this about the thing I think it’s about?”

“Depends. What are you thinking about? But probably yes, sure.”

“Tony. I don’t think you get what the word emergency means—”

“This totally counts—”

“—because that’s not really a good time to—”

“Do you two want to fill me in on whatever you’re talking about? Because—”

“It’s a perfectly good time, you don’t have any important meetings until 4pm and so does Rhodey. It’s the only window the three of us have together, actually, which was a lot of consideration on my part—”

“—I have no idea what’s happening and no, I definitely do not have a window right now—”

“That GR meeting is an important one, Tony, just because you are skipping it, I swear to—”

“It happened again! Ugh. I need you two, because it happened again!”

That shut both of them up. Tony looked at his best friends, shown at the highest quality imaginable on the video conference. Still not there, with him.

(Well, he could probably go fish Pepper out of her office, but that had a danger of being kicked by a very pointy shoe, so, video it is. And he could fly Rhodey to New York. Although, the US military usually wasn’t very considerate regarding their best of the best suddenly going AWOL due to some friend troubles. Not that often per month, at least.)

Pepper lost her annoyed look at Tony’s last words, looking like she wanted to seem concerned but was actually secretly laughing at him. Rhodey was still confused, but already slightly exasperated, which was his go-to look when dealing with Tony for the last twenty years or so.

Tony missed the times they could hang out more freely.

“Anyone want to shed the light on the latest Tony bullshit? What happened?”

“Again? Really?”

Tony groaned.

“Yes. Stop it. That’s not funny, it’s horrible. I’m in misery and distress.”

“Uh-huh. Tell everything to Jim from the beginning.”

“Weren’t you wanting to get to your very important work a moment ago?”

“Yes, but I love laughing at your misery, it’s very cathartic. Plus, I’m multitasking.” She showed her laptop to JARVIS’ camera.

Rhodey lifted an eyebrow in question, already managing a quality unimpressed look.

Tony sighed.

“Bucky keeps asking me out,” he said, with all the gravity of a pastor at a funeral.

“Bucky Barnes,” Rhodey said.

“Yes.”

“The one you have had a crush since you were, like, thirteen.”

“I didn’t—”

“Oh my god, really? Since then?”

“Yeah, he had comics and posters and there was one time when—”

“We are so not talking about that!”

“Just tell me the details later—”

“Yes, sure, I have these photos—”

Tony groaned. Wow. Yeah, maybe he didn’t miss hanging out with his friends that much.

“So,” Rhodey looked at him again (Tony’s holograms were made in a way that allowed everyone to turn to each other, not just look pointlessly at the camera), “your teenage crush, who’s now alive and has turned into your adult crush, has asked you out. Repeatedly. How’s that a problem?”

“He didn’t mean it.”

“He what.”

“The problem, actually, is that Tony’s a dumbass.”

“That’s obvious, but isn’t he usually better at least at that—”

“Why are you so mean to me?”

“You like us that way.”

“Ugh. The problem is he asks out anyone. Literally. I mean, you know all the stories about how he was back at the day—”

“You made sure I knew everything better than any historian, of course I know—”

“Flirting with everyone, blah-blah, which I get, because same, obviously, but. Exactly. I get it, I was there, I know what it's about. And I don’t want just a mindless hook up anymore. Not with him, at least. So.”

They looked serious now, concerned with him, and that was — that was uncomfortable, but in a weirdly good way. It made him feel mixed and conflicted, afraid to be seen but still pleased at it. He had them, these people, his friends who cared about him enough, and that was. Nice.

“Didn’t you say he asked you several times? That must mean something, right?”

“Eh.”

“Ooh, this is the funny part.”

“Pep! Ugh. No. It doesn’t. Because,” Tony sighed, staring forlornly at the ceiling, “firstly, he asked his friend Tony Stark. Then he asked his teammate Iron Man. And today he asked the masked mechanic guy he accidentally met at that kids tutoring thingy.”

Rhodey stared.

Pepper laughed at him fully now, the traitor.

“How did he find out about your robotics club? And why were you masked? Oh my, Tony, didn’t you have enough of secret identity issues already?”

“I didn’t expect to — it was getting bigger, okay, I didn’t want the extra attention and last time I couldn’t to get to the actual kids because some of the parents decided to bother and — ugh, I cleared it up with Katy, the girl in charge.e made up a story why I was in the mask and everyone just called me Mechanic, it was fun, the kids were great, I didn’t fucking think I would met anybody I know there! Least of all Bucky fucking Barnes! Who, apparently, asks people out after an incredibly short and awkward conversation!”

Rhodey was full-on snickering right now. Pepper hid her face in her hand.

Wow. So much support.

“Wait, wait, go back. How did he ask Iron Man? I thought you don’t really hang out with the team much outside of actually beating up the bad guys?”

“I don’t. But we talk during, and he’s fun to flirt with then. And at the latest thing, remember that guy with the freeze ray? I was flying Bucky out of the building on fire, and he, er, kissed my cheek — armor’s one, but still — and asked if I ever needed to get out of the suit. Or would I like to go to the movies in the suit, if I don’t want to show my face.”

“Wow. He asked you to the movies.”

“Did he plan a walk holding hands too?”

“Would he kiss your helmet again at the end of it?”

“If it would be dark enough, you could even get out some of the parts outside—”

“Pepper!”

“What? I meant like a hand!”

“I hate both of you. So much.”

But ridiculous teasing was better than concern and real talking about his emotions, so he didn’t really mean it. They knew it too.

“It didn’t sound like a hook up, though, Tones.”

“That’s what I told him, but he’s not listening. And the first time, when he asked you-you, sounded way more like a date than anything else.”

“That’s just because he’s old. You couldn’t very well say ‘hey let’s fuck’ in the forties, right? And he would look a lot more like he gives a shit if it mattered to him. So, no. I need to forget about that. And deal with it. And maybe stop getting new identities.”

“The last one’s definitely true,” Pepper muttered.

Tony closed his eyes. Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?

He wanted a drink.

“We could have a movie night, the two of us, at least,” Pepper said, face thoughtful. “Have a Star Trek marathon, the original series. You would complain through all of it about how wrong they are about everything and I’ll eat a bunch of ice cream and won’t bother you with SI stuff.”

“If you want me to bitch about getting it wrong, we should just watch the reboot films.”

“Well I actually want to hear whatever I’m watching, so no, we shouldn’t.”

“Sure. Let’s do it. Make it a free of romance zone.”

“Only us thirsting after young William Shatner.”

“You two have questionable tastes.”

“We have amazing tastes, you heathen. You’re just too straight to get them.”

“Want me to try to get leave and join you? I’m very bored here, and you could give me some War Machine updates.”

“Free labour, wow. Is this the root of our friendship?”

“No, that would be my endless patience with your shenanigans.”

“You’re just as shenanigans-inducing. You only pretend like you got everything together.”

Pepper rolled her eyes at them, then sighed.

“We should really see each other in a non-work-related context more. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah. Tony, you want to blow something important enough to warrant our immediate attention?”

“Is that the only way we could hang out in person for a long period of time?”

“Probably.”

“Definitely.”

“Right. Miss you guys.”

----

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with us?” Steve asked, voice concerned, frown between the eyebrows.

“‘M fine,” Bucky said, burrowing deeper in his blanket. He liked his blanket. He wanted to stay under his blanket.

Tony got him this blanket.

Ugh.

He so didn’t want to get there.

“You don’t look fine,” Steve said, eyeing Bucky dubiously. Parts of Bucky still seen to the eye, at least, not hidden by blanket and mountains of candy, ice cream, wrappings out of sandwiches and two frozen pizzas. “You look like you were moping here for the last two days.”

That was because he was moping here for those last two days. Get with the program, Steven.

Bucky sighed and glared at him a little.

“And what’s the problem with moping?” he grumbled.

Steve suddenly became more worried, like a puppy who just saw his food being stolen out of his bowl.

See, that’s why Bucky was hiding from him. And shouldn’t have spoken to him at all, because speaking to Steve only led to this, to concerned voice and speeches and to Bucky doing every stupid thing Steve wanted him to.

Story of his life.

“Buck,” Steve said, worried and serious and Steve, “you haven’t been out of the room for days. You don’t talk to anyone, you’re... You’re not fine.”

“Okay. Alright. I’m not fine. You happy? But the thing, Steve, I gotta be not fine for some time. Can’t just walk it off. I tried, I did. I tried to do what you said and get a rebound, or something. But at the end I got rejected by the guy I’m in love with, then got rejected by the guy who at least flirted with me sometimes and then I got rejected by the guy I barely knew but thought wasn’t that much out of my league like the first two. Turns out that wasn’t true. So, yeah, 3 out of 3? Not the best odds. Now? I’m done with moving on and getting myself out there for a while. I’m doing it my way, which means I gotta mope and eat lots of bad shit and watch stupid movies. Now either you’re doing it with me or you’re getting out of here.”

Bucky ended his speech with a glare. Steve gaped at him. To be fair, it was probably one of the longest things Bucky said in this century.

Bucky sighed and closed his eyes and wanted to say—

“What are we watching?” Steve asked.

“Really?”

Steve squirmed a little.

“Of course. I’m sorry I was pushing you. I didn’t know your thing for Stark was that serious—”

“Not talking about this.”

“Okay. So. Movie?”

“Yep. Clint told me that it’s horrible.”

“Oh goodie.”

“You really don’t want to watch it, do you?”

“I really, really don’t.”

“And you’ll still watch it with me?”

“Of course I will. Punk.”

“Jerk,” Bucky rolled his eyes, punched Steve’s shoulder and smiled for the first time in his shitty week.

Several days later, Bucky was feeling better. So maybe he wasn’t out much and didn’t talk to anyone but Steve. And maybe he spent too much time either throwing knives at the wall or looking at Tony’s old interviews. That was normal. That was a thing people did.

And, well, maybe, he was a little too enthusiastic about beating up AIM guys at the moment, but they deserved it. Kicking the bad guys was a good outlet for feelings. Shut up, Steve, you hypocrite, you’re worse.

Anyway, Bucky was fine. Bucky didn’t feel pathetic. Bucky definitely didn’t think about how he’s barely seen Tony last weeks or how his usual chatter with Iron Man was s bit strained or how today was a mentoring day at the robotics center where he’s gone in hopes of seeing Tony inconspicuously and instead got rejected again by a cute funny guy he tried to move on with. Yep, Bucky was definitely not thinking about it all.

A kick to the shin for you, stupid AIM guy. Left hook to your face, ugly dude. You should have better morals, creepy lady. Got a gun at your face now.

Bucky was totally fine now.

What wasn’t fine, though, was his battle strategy, because for all of his anger issues letting out at the moment, the AIM guys were like ants inside the anthill: annoying and never ending. He tried to move the battle closer to an empty construction site, far away from civilians, but that cut him away from the team. Still. Bucky could take AIM. They were pretty useless.

Unfortunately, they were also maniacal lucky bastards, for the moment Bucky was under the half-built building, one of the yellow assholes blew some shit up enough for everything to go down.

Bucky swore.

“Winter, status.”

“Winter?”

Kinda busy here, guys.

Something was still blowing up — what the hell was hidden in this building to come to this effect — Bucky heard more screams at the comms, then a familiar sound of repulsors around, then more explosions, then — nothing.

He came to in the dark, almost nothing visible. Eesh. Dark and too hot and confined. Pissed off supersoldier with a remnant claustrophobia in a confined space — not good for you, stupid evil guys. Shouldn’t have been so evil.

Bucky looked around, trying to figure out where he was and how to get out of here, not to think about walls too close and air not enough. It was fine. He was fine. He’ll get out of here and kick the assholes that stranded him here some more and everything’s going to be fine. Ugh. Rubble and hot metal. Nice explosion, guys. Zero out of ten stars, would not recommend. His comms were dead, of course, and he didn’t know how long he was out — not long, probably, thanks to the serum, and he was free of concussions, but the not knowing grated on him.

There was something weird about the ruins, though. An explosion of this scale should have totaled the whole structure, getting anyone caught under, not leaving much space, but Bucky was able to breathe or move, as if someone—

Fuck. Bucky moved, looking for it, and, yep, here it was, red with gold barely seen. Knocked out too.

“Iron Man!” He called, voice hoarse, and immediately had a coughing fit.

This place sucked.

Iron Man didn’t move or made a sound, though, which was bad. Very bad. He was either unconscious or the suit was down, trapping the person inside without any way to move and get out until JARVIS could get to them. And there was a chance oxygen wasn’t getting in. Or Iron Man had injuries needing medical attention right now. Or he was—

Nope, stop, Barnes, focus. Everything would be fine. Iron Man’s just knocked out. Everything’s fine.

Bucky moved as close as he could, trying to get the suit fully out of the rubble at least, to see the reactor. It was comforting white. Okay. Good. Now they just needed to get out of here. With Iron Man still unresponsive. Great. Amazing. Marvelous.

Bucky leaned close, trying to hear through the armor any sounds of man inside. It was barely impossible, but he did have superhearing. Should be useful for something.

“...eant Barnes?”

Oh thank god.

“JARVIS? ‘M here. Is Iron Man okay? Can you contact the others?”

“..ust the local copy... nection lost... sir is... you need to open the suit, sergeant,” the voice was broken and barely there, Bucky’s hearing strained as it was.

“Can’t hear you. Open the suit? Iron Man would never allow that, that can’t be right!”

“...immediate. Sir made a protocol that allows you or the other trusted teammates to...”

That was enough for Bucky. If Iron Man’ condition depended on it... Bucky reached for the chest plate and pulled, as carefully as he could, but still with all his strength. The metal grumbled and creaked under his arms. Please, fuck, please be okay. It succumbed, finally, and Bucky leaned to the man inside, ear to the chest. Heart beating. Sounds of hoarse breathing. Thank god. He was okay, he was fine, just knocked out and devoid of oxygen... Bucky looked for the other injuries, not finding them, getting the helmet out to check the head, and actually looking at the man for the first time. And froze.

He was wearing another mask on his face. Cheap cardboard Cyberman from Doctor Who mask. Exactly the same as — Bucky looked down to the guy’s shirt, and saw a paper badge glued at it, with a messy ‘Mechanic’ written on it.

What. The actual. Hell.

Bucky stared.

The man beside him moved and coughed and woke up, hand reaching for the mask, taking it off and—

“Oh. Hi,” Tony fucking Stark said, blinking at Bucky, confused and probably mildly concussed, “what happened?”

Bucky was so screwed.

----

Tony was not hiding in his workshop. That was not a thing that was happening. Yes, he did spend the last couple of days there, but he was busy. He had to work. He had several full-time jobs, actually, that was all very reasonable.

Not that he actually had a reason to hide, what with Bucky not speaking to him or running away from him as soon as he could and consequently ignoring him. At least nobody (read: Steve) came to Tony with “how could you lie to us all this time” speech, so, apparently, Bucky didn’t spill the beans. Silver lining.

Ugh.

Still, Tony was not ready to accidentally see Bucky in the common rooms, or talk to him, or talk to anybody, or even think about it. Hence the work. Working distracted him. Well. If he could find the flow and get into it really, it distracted him. He barely remembered where those seven hours went, but sometimes thoughts distracted him from working instead, which was both uncomfortable and bad for his productivity. So yeah. Tony wasn’t in the good place at the moment.

Damn him for screwing up the oxygen take in the suit. Damn AIM for attacking during Tony’s mentoring hours.

He had another good way to run away from his problems, though, which was putting on the suit and being Iron Man for a while. That wasn’t that applicable in this exact situation, because, obviously. Iron Man was a part of the shitshow. But at least he could fly.

So after an hour of not managing to do anything useful, Tony gave up and went flying.

Which was amazing. People should fly all the time. He could fly people, he did this in battle. Should he make a special therapy suit? Provide the proof you’re heavily depressed, get an Iron Man suit drag you around in the air! The team always said they loved flying with him; the last time when Bucky—

The last time. When he asked Tony on a date, very cheesy, and kissed his cheek. Helmet. Whatever. Before he even knew and — UGH.

Nope, not thinking, only flying. Whoosh.

It did exhaust him after a while, and it brought at least some relief, some calm, so Tony was pleasantly tired and almost content when he got to the landing platform. The landing platform where Steve was already waiting for him. Damn it. Did Bucky finally tell everyone? He wouldn’t. Would he? Steve could be here just to talk. It didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t—

“Iron Man!” Steve grinned at him.

Phew. All good.

“I wanted to talk to you. Haven’t seen you around much lately.”

“I’m a busy guy, Cap. What’s up?”

“Eh, well,” Steve looked uncharacteristically sheepish. “It’s about Bucky.”

Oh no.

He miscalculated. He so did and he needed to get out of here.

“What’s about him?” Tony asked, hoping the voice modifier didn’t show how strained he sounded.

“Um. You might’ve noticed he’s still a bit down after everything.”

Um. He was? After what? General Winter Soldier stuff or something Tony wasn’t privy to because of ignoring each other thing?

“And, I know, it would be a conflict of interest, with Mr. Stark being your boss and all,” Steve continued, and what. Really. What was happening here, “but you and Bucky are friends, right, so you could be here as a friend and not as—”

“Steve. What are you talking about?”

“Yes, sorry! Just wanted to ask you to hang out with Bucky. Cheer him up a little. You’re always really good at that.”

Was he?

What?

“To cheer him up.” Tony repeated slowly, trying to figure out what parallel universe he suddenly was in, “because of Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, you know how upset Bucky is about the whole thing. He always was pretty involved in with all the people he liked, but, honestly, I’ve never seen him like that. He’s still sulking in his room all the time, and it’s even worse lately—”

Tony stared.

“You do know about that, right?” Steve asked, slowing down.

“Uh-huh. Sure. You know what, Cap? I need to go. Right now. Er, urgent business. There’s a thing. Very important. Good talk, see you, eh, sometime—”

“Iron Man! Wait!”

But Tony was already out of there.

Tony had a plan. Well, not exactly a plan, because he didn’t have much time to come up with fully fledged plans, but he had the beginnings of said plan, ideas for the speeches that’ll make Bucky ignore all the lying and general stupidity and date him. He had a plan, he definitely did.

Unfortunately, when he saw Bucky, slightly sulky and looking like he just got out of the bed, opening his room without a shirt, surprise and a secret smile on his face that showed at the sight of Tony that he hid almost immediately, well. All Tony’s plans were kind of forgotten.

Tony was good at improvising, though. Just look at the majority of his press-conferences. Yes, that was mostly blurting whatever he needed to say, but that worked out in the end, right?

So Tony looked at Bucky, surprised to a silence, and said:

“Go on a date with me.”

A beat of silence.

“What?”

“You’ve heard me. Go on a date with me.”

“Are you making fun of me right now?”

Damn it. Tony was an idiot.

Yep, maybe should have gone with the speech first.

“No, of course not, I promise, completely serious. Eh. Should I do it three times, for the symmetry?... no, please, wait, don’t go—”

“Why? If you’re serious? Why say no and then, this? Is it because of the Iron—”

“No, I mean, yes, I mean, partly. Not really. Never even got there, actually. Look. The reason is, mostly,” Tony sighed and closed his eyes and tried to be something that was scary and so difficult: be sincere and open. To make stupid hindbrain believe it wouldn’t end in flames, “I’m an idiot. That’s the reason. I thought — I kinda thought you had no reason to actually like me, me, Tony, as a person, so I thought you meant it as a hook up, which, by the way? Asking out three different people successively? Kinda engrains that idea—”

“They all were you, actually, and why the hell would you think—”

“You didn’t know that then! Nope, okay, never mind, not going there at the moment. Just believe that I thought that, and I didn’t want that, not like that, hence the no, but if you — Steve said you want to, and it’s Steve, he wouldn’t lie — I want to. I’m saying yes. If you’ll have me.”

Tony stared in Bucky’s eyes, looking for the answer, feeling that took so much more bravery than any brush offs with death they had.

“I’m sorry for being an idiot,” he added softly, “but I’ll try to do better. If you let me.”

Bucky stepped forward, closer, close enough for Tony to feel his breathing, warmth of his half-naked body (which, distracting!), close enough to have to move his head up to see Bucky’s eyes.

“Of course I’ll let you,” Bucky said, equally soft, almost whispering, eyes incredulous but hopeful, “I’ll let you do anything.”

He reached for Tony’s hand and took it, took it and lifted it to kiss his knuckles.

“So, this date,” Tony said, voice suddenly hoarse, “you have any ideas?”

“Tons.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He kissed Tony’s palm, then wrist, looking under the lashes.

“And how do you feel, potentially, about having the desert before dinner? We can make the date now. Start with the fun stuff.”

“We can, huh?”

“Yep. Definitely. We so can. No immediate business at hand. Absolutely free.”

“Well,” Bucky drawled, pulling back a little, pupils blown but face worryingly smug, “so we can. But you know what? I think we should wait with the ‘fun part’. Until, hmm, date three? For the amount of asking done.”

Tony glared at him. Bucky had an innocent impression any misbehaved cat would be jealous of.

“Right. Fine,” Tony told him, still feeling slightly guilty for his idiocy, “but I’m going to date the fuck out of you, you menace.”

“Can’t wait,” Bucky said, leaning to kiss his temple. “Wanna eat hotdogs and teach kids from your mentoring program to blow stuff up?”

“Yes,” Tony grinned at him, meaning it tenfold.

That was going to be great.

#winteriron #buckytony #starkbucks #ironwinter #tony stark #bucky barnes #tony stark x bucky barnes #fanfic #writing #mine #humor #pining #get together #idiots in love

33 notes · View notes

rivers-rambles21 · 4 years ago

Text

The one with the road trip

Part 15 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)

Warnings | 18+ only - no smut but mentions of it

Apologies for any mistakes, this has been written on my phone and its a bit difficult to edit. Once I’m back with a working laptop I’ll give it a once over :)

Bucky had intended on renting a bike so you could ride down to Louisiana but with Sam’s suit it would’ve been an impossible feat.

He settled for hiring an SUV and added you both to the insurance so you could take it in turns driving on the long trip down south.

“Been together one day and we’re already on our first trip” You teased as you rested your feet on the dash, taking in the scenery as Bucky drove. His metal hand gripped the steering wheel as he peaked a glance over to your bare legs, resisting the urge to pull over.

“You’re the one having a mid life crisis doll not me” You feigned offense and swatted the soldier beside you, pleased to get a hit in as he tried to dodge your attack. His eyes remained on the road as he grasped your hand in his. “Less of that thank you” He laughed, bringing your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the back before giving it back to rest on your thigh, his hand not leaving yours.

“Looking forward to seeing Sam again?” He didn’t respond but his face said it all. “You’re so dramatic” You chuckled as you leant down to root around in your bag for the road trip snacks. Retrieving a bag of cashews, you offered it to Bucky who gladly took a handful.

“I just know he’s going to ask a billion questions about stuff we’ve not even discussed yet, that we’re probably not even ready to talk about. He didn’t stop asking about you y’know? Y/n this, Y/n that…he kept threatening to ask you out.”

“Oh he did”

The car swerved slightly as Bucky's grip on the wheel tightened, his concentration lapsing for a split second.

“He did what?” He asked, tearing his eyes from the road to glance over at you.

“It was just a bit of harmless flirting-” You began before being cut off.

“We flirted.” Bucky stated, his jaw clenching.

“We also did a lot of things just friends don’t do. Relax Sarge, he only asked to get a reaction out of me.”

Bucky grunted in response, knowing his reaction was a tad over the top but he couldn’t help it. You were his.

“We could always mess with him in return.” You pondered as you took a swig of your drink. “Maybe hold off on telling him about us, it’s only meant to be a flying visit anyway isn’t it? So we wouldn’t have to pretend for long… play him at his own game?”

Bucky smirked in response, completely on board with your little plan.

The next few hours passed with the typical car games and a quick power nap as Bucky continued driving.

“How long until you start at Starks?”

“A month thank god, the GRC wanted me gone pretty quickly, I didn't have to work my notice which was a blessing really. I’ll schedule a day to go and clear out my desk and say my goodbyes. Will you still get your pension if we live out of the country?”

“I’m not sure to be honest, I can pick up work wherever we are though, it wouldn’t be the first time. I’m good with my hands”

“You’re telling me” You muttered under your breath. Bucky heard you loud and clear and let out a laugh as he recalled how you spent most of last night. “Are we crazy? Travelling with no plan, barely any money and only just starting out as a couple?”

“Oh absolutely”

Eventually Bucky took a break from driving after you stopped for food in a roadside diner. It had been a while since you’d driven but you wanted to give Bucky the chance to get some sleep, something you knew he still struggled with.

Despite telling him to try and get some sleep on the back seats, he remained upfront with you, doing his best to battle the drowsiness that had overcome him. He’d not gotten much rest the past few weeks, from battling the Flag Smashers in Europe, to hunting down Zemo and then back to New York. In truth he was worried he’d have a nightmare and wasn’t sure on how he’d react but upon your insistence, he tried to get some shut eye. After an hour or so he dropped off, the sound of you humming along to a song on the radio sending him off into a dreamless sleep.

Bucky couldn’t quite believe it, he couldn’t remember the last time he slept without being haunted by memories of the Winter Soldier. Granted, he only got four hours of sleep , but it was the best he’d felt in a long time.

When it came to your turn to get some shut eye Bucky insisted on stopping over in a hotel for the night. You’d tried to convince him a motel would suffice after you lost the battle of you sleeping in the car but he was victorious.

To be frank, after spending so many hours in the car, you were grateful to be sleeping in a bed with your super soldier by your side.

As you slept, Bucky took the time to fire off a few emails advising he’d be ending his lease. Having slept earlier, he felt energised and was content in browsing the internet as you slept tucked into his arm.

He did his best not to wake you as he opened a selfie from Shuri of her with Ayo and Nomble, a chuckle escaping his lips as Shuri and Nomble looked to be thoroughly enjoying themselves on a boat trip in New York whilst Ayo sulked in the background.

He also replied to an email from his therapist's office, letting them know he’d be absent from his next session but planned on returning the following week.

Bucky was tempted to let Sam know he was coming but thought it best to surprise him.

The next day was much of the same, both of you switching the drive and stopping off at diners for food. Due to the lack of respect Bucky had for the speed limit, you were making good time and would be in Delacroix the following morning.

“-it was like I didn’t exist. Honestly it was the most humbling experience of my life”

“Sergeant Barnes in his uniform… now that is something I’ve got to see.”

“Maybe one day”

Your eyebrow perked at the thought. “Good god man” You groaned dramatically and sank further into your seat, giggling as you caught sight of the blush covering his cheeks. “For what it’s worth, lack of nutrients from the rationing clearly messed with her eyesight.” You were genuinely baffled how Peggy didn’t swoon for the man next to you.

“Where were you in the 40’s when I needed you huh?”

“I doubt I’d have been your type”

“Intelligent, strong woman with a great sense of humor? And thats not even mentioning your ass.. Oh no, definitely not my type” He replied sarcastically.

“Ha ha fine, I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’d have taken you dancing, maybe gone to a show or even the carnival. Anything you wanted.” He took your hand in his again and kissed the back of it as he pondered just how he’d of won you over back then. He usually didn't like to dwell on life before the war, the pain of losing his family and the future he lost was too much but having you in his life somehow made the memories hurt less. Having you with him now along with the future he could picture with you helped him make peace with his past life and accept that it wasn’t something he could ever go back to.

When Steve was returning the stones, he did wonder whether he should go back with him but the realisation that there wasn’t anything waiting for him apart from a time that he didn't belong to made his decision to remain in the present resolute. And by god was he thankful he stayed.

On your way to your final hotel before arriving at Sams, you’d taken over the driving and had kept Bucky entertained with your off key singing and terrible car games.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” As it turns out, Bucky was a sore loser.

“What? It counts!!”

“You cannot see bacteria Y/N”

“Yes I can! It’s right...right… right there!” You pointed to a random bit of the car interior and held back a laugh at a clearly unamused Bucky.

“You’re so full of shit”

“How do you know I can’t see it huh? Guess it’s my turn again, I spy with my little -”

“No” He cut off as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Absolutely not. I’m going to choose a game.”

You let out a little smile and continued focusing on the road until the super soldier landed on something he liked.

“Okay okay, would you rather sounds fun. Doll, would you rather have the superpower of being invisible or ability to fly.”

“Aw come on Buck these are tame! If I have to answer, without a doubt invisibility.”

“Not dirty enough for you sweetheart?” A tingle rang down your spine at your new nickname. “I’d have to agree, invisibility easily.”

“Buck you’re an actual superhero, you’ve already got powers, leave some for us mere mortals!”

“... you think I’m a superhero?”

“....you’re literally an Avenger.” You reached across towards the man beside you, keeping your eyes on the road as you pressed your hand against his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

Bucky rolled his eyes at your sarcasm and swatted your hand away from his head. “Fine you made your point.”

You shook your head as you returned your hand to the steering wheel, tapping away to the song on the radio.

“The rest of these questions are boring” He muttered as he furiously scrolled through his cell.

“C’mon, go R rated”

“It’s no fun when I already know the answers to these!”

“Pfft doubtful, come on, hit me”

“Spit or swallow, you’re a swallower doll.See?”

“Okay okay! You’re right, I give in. How about we just ask each other some questions?”

“But you already know everything,” He remarked, throwing a few cashews into his mouth.

“When did you first see me as someone other than a friend?” You’d thrown him off guard with that question, his hand stuck in mid air as he went to throw more snacks into his mouth.

“Wouldn't you rather know my most embarrassing sexual encounters?” He offered but was met with silence. “Fine……. I’ve never seen you as just a friend. Yes we were friends before we became more and honestly Y/n if it never progressed further than just friendship I would’ve been fine with it, more than fine with it y’know? Meeting you was the best fucking thing-” “Buck, it’s okay” Your hand reached out towards him and squeezed his thigh as you kept your eyes on the road.

“There’s more… before we officially met in the lobby when that creep wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, I’d seen you around. I was coming back from lunch with Yori and he was complaining about having gone for burgers instead of our usual and there you were, headphones in completely oblivious to the world and searching for your keys in your purse as usual. You were just so carefree - everything I wanted to be. And then a couple of days later we met and I was a goner.”

You bit your lip as you fought back a smile, overwhelmed by his honesty. It was a welcome feeling, knowing you weren’t the only one that felt an attraction almost immediately.

“I’d seen you around too, before we officially met I mean. It’s kind of hard to miss you” You chuckled as you snuck a glimpse over at him and found him doing his usual glare. “It was pretty early on for me as well, do you remember when we went for coffee?”

“And you ordered us two cups of sugar? Yeah I remember”

“Mocha Latte’s aren’t bad for you… they just give you a bit of a buzz”

“Especially if you order extra cream…”

“Anyway! I’ve always been attracted to you, I’m not blind y’know but after seeing this dark looming strong man consume a drink like that, and have some residue cream left on his lower lip mind you, I just knew that it was more than just a crush. There’s something oddly charming and attractive about seeing someone so intimidating be so soft. It’s like I’m the only one who gets to see that side of you and I love it”

Bucky didn't quite know what to say, he was slightly flustered at the compliments you were throwing at him and by the knowledge that you’d been interested far earlier than he had ever dreamed of.

“We’re idiots aren’t we? For not realising sooner.”

“Oh without a doubt”

Tag list:

@iamtheonewhocares @indigo123789 @xpurpleglitter

If you want to be added drop me a message

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #tfatws #ao3 #fic #bucky fic #bucky fluff

58 notes · View notes

thatkidwholikesthunderbirds · 4 years ago

Text

TAG Mini Bang 2021

Hey fam, This is mine and the amazing @katblu42′s contribution to the @tagminibang. Katblu42 wrote the story, of which I love so much, and i made a couple of doodles to go with it.

We both worked really hard on it, hope you enjoy.

***

Deep Water

The summer is drawing to an end when an almost-twelve-year-old Virgil is lumped with looking after little bro Gordon for the day. When a simple walk in the woods becomes more than they bargained for, the pair must work together to overcome their fears.

Written by @katblu42

***

“Hey, Virgil. Whatcha doin’?” Gordon bounced down the stairs and watched his brother carefully pack his brand-new artist’s set of watercolour pencils, mini easel, and sketchbook into his backpack, using one of his hoodies for padding. “I’m gonna go out on the top track and try out my new pencils. It’s gonna be a really nice day for practicing landscapes. I want to try and capture the way the light filters through the trees and . . .” As Virgil excitedly rambled on about all the things he wanted to draw, Lucy emerged from the kitchen with a lunchbox packed with sandwiches and snacks and two water bottles for Virgil to add to his bag. She ignored the eye-rolling from the younger boy, who obviously didn’t share the enthusiasm for artistic inspiration. Placing a hand on Virgil’s shoulder as she handed him the last of the supplies, Lucy smiled. “Sounds like the two of you are going to see all kinds of wonders today,” she said. Virgil opened his mouth to question, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak. “You’re going to take your brother with you.” “But . . .” was all Virgil managed to squeak out, while Gordon sported a look of surprised incredulity. “It will do you both the world of good to spend some time together, just the two of you.”

Lucy knew these two didn’t always get along, mostly due to Gordon’s talent for finding exactly the right buttons to push to try Virgil’s patience. In fact, Gordon did that with everyone, but it somehow affected Virgil the most potently. Lucy, Jeff, and the other boys had little tolerance for Gordon’s annoying antics, but the fact that Virgil usually had an abundance of patience was exactly why Gordon got under his skin so much. With Virgil, Gordon would keep on pushing, keep needling, insistently nagging until that patience wore thin and caused Virgil to react in frustration. As a result, Lucy had noticed Virgil tending to avoid spending too much time with Gordon. But today she needed to pair them up together. Grandma would be by any minute to pick up Scott, as she was helping him log extra flying hours towards his pilot license while Jeff was away for work. John had already left for the library where they had been running a special summer program in the AV centre focussing on early space exploration because today was the last day he’d be able to see it. “Aw, Mom!” Virgil whined. “If he comes, I won’t get any drawing done.” “Yeah, Mom,” Gordon joined in, wrinkling his nose, “can’t I stay with you?” “Nope!” Lucy ruffled Gordon’s unruly blond locks. “I have errands to run today.” Gordon groaned. He hated being dragged all over town when his mom was running errands, mostly because the entire day was usually spent listening to her tell him he couldn’t run off too far or do anything fun – getting up to mischief, she called it. Lucy knew her day would be difficult enough with a toddler in tow without adding a hyperactive six-and-a-half-year-old to the mix. For a moment, she felt for Virgil. In a way, he had a point. He’d have to keep Gordon occupied, which would take his focus away from his artistic endeavours, but she had faith that the two of them would find a way to make it work. She stood between the two boys and, with a hand on a shoulder of each, pulled them into a hug. “You two go out and have fun.” She placed a kiss on first Virgil’s and then Gordon’s forehead. “Be good, look after each other, and don’t get into any trouble!” She ushered them through the door and watched them head out, turning back to wave goodbye to her from the front gate before continuing westward towards the top track. She would always worry about her boys out there on their own, but they all knew the rules and had repeatedly been warned of the various dangers contained within their little patch of wilderness. Virgil was not inclined to be reckless or break the rules, but the lure of an interesting view could distract him at times. Looking after a younger brother would help keep his attention more focused. It was one of Lucy’s secret weapons. Pairing a big brother with a little one always seemed to make the big brother more inclined to obey the rules and watch for dangers.

The two boys made quick progress across the open paddock towards the trees, Virgil striding out confidently, Gordon occasionally having to run for a few steps to catch up. Once they reached the track that wound its way through the trees, the pace began to slow. Virgil’s gaze wandered as he walked, noticing in great detail the colours of the foliage and tree bark, the stark contrasts formed by shafts of sunlight filtering between the trees and highlighting this branch or those leaves. He would hear the cry of a bird and look up, searching the treetops to see if he could catch sight of the culprit. Despite the distractions, however, Virgil didn’t stop walking. He had a destination in mind, and he was keen to get there so he could start drawing. Gordon found distractions of his own along the track. He’d hear skittering noises in the dirt and leaf litter beside the track and stop to see if he could spot the creature that had scuttled away. He found spiderwebs woven between the trees and bushes, and noted with interest whether or not the spider was home and if they’d caught anything. He, too, would search the trees and sky for birds that called out their various songs. Unlike Virgil, Gordon stopped often and would have to run to catch up to his bigger brother, usually after Virgil called out to him to hurry up. After falling behind for the fourth time, Gordon decided to run ahead along the track a bit. That way Virgil would have to catch up to him! He stopped short when he came to the fork in the track. An idea struck him, and he jogged back to his brother. “Hey, Virgil?” He had a glint in his eye that the older boy knew well enough to be worried about. “We should go down to the lake!” “No.” “Oh, come on! Why not?” His voice was verging on whiny and his expression close to a pout. “We’re not supposed to go to the lake on our own, it’s –” “We’re not on our own, we have each other!” Gordon didn’t want to give Virgil a chance to argue or talk about possible dangers. “We’re not gonna do anything dangerous or anything. It’s nice by the lake. Besides, you said your pencils were watercolours. Shouldn’t you draw something with water?” “That’s not . . . Uugghh!” Virgil sighed, rolled his eyes, and rubbed a hand through his hair. He knew steering this particular brother away from water was going to be a hard sell, and if he was honest with himself, his little brother was right about the lake being a good place to draw. It would give him an opportunity to practice drawing reflections, which was something he’d been wanting to experiment with. And the view across the lake was pretty spectacular. But swimming in the lake could be dangerous. If they went to the lake, Virgil knew his entire day would be spent watching Gordon in the water. Gordon studied the expression on his brother’s face for some sign of what he was thinking. He had that look of intense concentration he used when he was figuring out how to fix something. Virgil slowed to a stop and looked down at Gordon. “If we go to the lake –” As Virgil spoke, Gordon’s face broke out in a wide gap-toothed grin as he sensed he had won. “I said if! If we go to the lake, you have to promise me you won’t go for a swim. I came here to draw, not play lifeguard.” “Aww! Virge, it’s summer! It’s a great day for a swim.” His smile was gone, and he now had to trot alongside his brother as Virgil began walking again, setting a brisk pace. He was going to have to fight hard to get his way. “Pleeeeease!” No reaction. “What if I promise not to go in any deeper than up to here?” He indicated his waist. Virgil’s eyebrows drew down into somewhat of a scowl, but he slowed his walking pace again. “You have to stay dry above the knees,” he said. “Yes! Okay, I can do that.” Gordon’s big, infectious grin was back, and he literally bounced with happiness and excitement at his victory. “I promise I won’t go in past my knees, and I’ll be good so you can just do your drawings.” Virgil tried to keep his expression serious, but his little brother’s glee was so irresistible he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Pretty soon he was grinning too, and they headed down the left fork in the track towards the lake. As they descended the narrow trail, weaving between trees and larger rocks, the hard-packed dirt underfoot gradually giving way to sandy soil, Gordon’s excitement was barely containable. He ran ahead down the track, calling to Virgil to hurry, ran back to his brother urging him to walk quicker, tugging at his hand, gave up, and ran ahead again before he could even see Virgil roll his eyes. The whole process was then repeated. Twice. Soon enough the trees lining the track thinned out, allowing glimpses of dark blue water. The track curved, and suddenly they emerged from the trees onto an expanse of silty sand with the lake spread out before them, rippling and glistening in the sunlight. The dark greens of the trees on the far side of the lake separated dark blue water from pale blue sky on the horizon. Gordon ran straight to the water’s edge, while Virgil took a moment to take in the entire scene. The lake itself didn’t cover a particularly large area, but it was very deep in places. Virgil estimated that it was more than half a mile from side to side, north to south, and possibly as far as three hundred metres to the trees on the other side from where Gordon now stood. The hills to the north funnelled water down into the lake via a network of creeks and streams. The surface of the lake looked relatively calm, but it hid unpredictable undercurrents as the water worked its way to the small stream that trickled away from the natural dam at the lake’s southern tip. There were a few tiny islands dotted throughout the lake, most of them closer to the far side, some large enough to have trees growing on them, others no more than large rocks with their tops protruding from the water. A short walk along the water’s edge northward took Virgil past a small wooden pier with a little dinghy tied to it, gently rocking and bumping with the lazy motion of the water. Beyond that, the flat sand gave way to a series of rocky, sloped banks. Picking his way up over some of the lower rocks, Virgil climbed up onto a large, relatively flat boulder that afforded him a good view and room to set out all his materials. He could see the beach (as Gordon called it) and his brother discarding his shoes and socks so he could explore the shallows and the little boat attached to the pier, with the water stretching away before him. Once he had carefully unpacked his easel and sketchbook and placed his pencils beside him within easy reach, Virgil began to sketch out some rough outlines. It wasn’t long before Gordon popped his head up over the edge of Virgil’s rock platform.

“Is that all you’ve done so far?” he asked with curious disbelief. “You should use more colours.” “Gordon.” Virgil’s tone was a warning. “Okay, okay,” Gordon said, raising his hands, palms outwards. “I just wondered if it’s lunchtime yet. I’m hungry.” Virgil resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he looked at his younger brother, searching for any signs of mischief and finding none. He realised Gordon was probably right, it was time for lunch. Virgil had been too caught up in what he was doing to notice how long it had been since they’d eaten breakfast. “All right, let’s see what Mom packed for us to eat.” He dug the lunchbox and water bottles out of his backpack while Gordon climbed up onto the rock and sat cross-legged beside him. Neither boy was surprised to find their mom had provided each of them with their favourite sandwich toppings, and they ate hungrily. Gordon would have polished off all the snacks too, but Virgil prudently suggested they should save those for later. They washed the sandwiches down with a hearty helping of water, making sure to save some of that too. When their little picnic was done, Gordon started to scamper back down over the rocks. “You can go back to drawing now,” he delivered a parting shot with that cheeky grin, “I’m gonna go see if I can find any fish.” “Stay out of the water,” Virgil warned. “You just ate.” “Ugh! I’m not stupid, Virgil! And besides, I’m only going in up to my knees, remember!” “I remember. I’ve just gotta make sure you do!” Virgil watched as Gordon started to clamber down the rocks. “Stay where I can see you!” he called after him. “And be careful! The rocks can get slippery.” “I’ll be fine!” Gordon yelled back, and added under his breath, “Spoilsport.” “I heard that!” Virgil didn’t see Gordon poke his tongue out before he ran off along the sand to go and get his feet wet again. He stood in the shallow water, running his hands over the slimy reeds looking for little fish. He spent some time digging his toes into the sand to see what little creatures came darting out into the water as it clouded around his feet. Virgil’s focus was split between the landscape that was rapidly developing on the paper and keeping tabs on Gordon. Every little, excited exclamation had Virgil looking along the beach, wondering what his brother had found. But his attention was inevitably pulled back to his watercolour sketch. Coming out of the water for a while, Gordon picked his way along the sand, gathering a pocketful of stones before finding a spot to stand and skip them across the surface of the lake. He was pretty proud of the one he managed to get to skip eight times before it sank. The clicky slap of the first skipped stone had Virgil’s head turning to watch, making sure his brother was still keeping out of trouble. He wondered who had taught Gordon to skip stones and fondly remembered Scott showing him how it was done. Gordon was actually pretty good at it, and he kept at it for quite a while. After that, Gordon wandered closer to the trees looking for beetles and interesting insects. He even took one or two of them over to show Virgil. He did the same with some of the smooth pebbles he’d found, especially the ones that had pretty colours or unusual patterns. Virgil liked those ones, he could tell. And every time he returned to Virgil up on his rock, while he munched on a snack or took a drink of water, he took a peek at what his brother was drawing. There was one main drawing of the view across the lake that was more and more detailed every time Gordon saw it, but there were some other smaller sketches too. Gordon wasn’t sure if they were like little practice drawings for things that Virgil wanted to add to the main one or if they were something else. It looked like some of those extra sketches included him, some were of the treasures he’d brought to show his brother, and some he couldn’t quite decipher yet. The afternoon sun beat down on them, too high in the sky for any shadows long enough to provide decent shade. Virgil barely noticed, but Gordon felt the heat. He had climbed back down from Virgil’s perch and was now sitting on the end of the little boat dock dangling his feet in the water. He kicked his feet, splashing and watching new ripples form. The water was pleasantly cool against his legs, but his head and shoulders yearned for that same refreshing feeling. He looked out across the lake, longing to jump in and immerse himself in liquid heaven. He was regretting his promise. “Gordon,” Virgil called down to him, “stop splashing around so much. I don’t want you falling in.” In response, Gordon just sighed. A gull squawked nearby, and he watched it wing its way to a large rock protruding from the water, joining other gulls and ibises sunning themselves. It was the closest island to where he sat, and it didn’t look too far to swim to. It was so hot. It would just be a quick swim. “Hey, Virgil,” Gordon called out, twisting his body around to look up at his brother, “how far do you think it is to that big rock out there?” Virgil took a moment to stand up and stretch muscles that he hadn’t really moved in nearly two hours. He looked where Gordon pointed and couldn’t help doing a rough calculation in his head to estimate the distance, but he knew where this question was leading. “Too far,” he answered. “You’re not going to swim to it. No deeper than your knees, remember?” “But, Virge . . .” “No, Gordon! It’s dangerous. We don’t swim out that far when Mom and Dad bring us down here, I’m not letting you go out there alone.” “But I’m a good swimmer, and the water’s really flat and calm, and it’s so hot . . .” “I said no!” Virgil was almost shouting now. Why wasn’t Gordon listening to him? Couldn’t he see how bad an idea this was? “It’s gotta be at least eighty metres out to that rock, and you can’t see the currents at work under the surface or the reeds or the cold spots or how deep it is. It’s not like swimming in the pool in town.” “Eighty metres is easy! I already have my two-hundred-meter freestyle achievement certificate. I’ll be out there and back in no time.” As he spoke, Gordon started removing his T-shirt. “Gordon, don’t!” Virgil’s heart was hammering at his rib cage like it was trying to break free, and he started making his way down the rocks towards the boat dock, knowing he wasn’t going to be quick enough. “Bet I’ll do it in the fastest time ever. Time me, Virgil.” And with a flash of a wicked grin, he turned and dived into the water. Virgil ran across the sand and onto the wooden dock, heart still pounding fit to burst as Gordon swam away. All he could do was stand there and watch. As scared as he was, he couldn’t help being a little bit in awe of his little brother. Even though he was little, he was a good swimmer. From his very first swimming lesson two years ago, he had been very much at home in the water. He learned fast and seemed to have the knack of skimming the surface of the water when he swam – unlike Virgil, who always felt like he was fighting the water, trying to stop it from pulling him down. He didn’t mind admitting that Gordon was a better swimmer than he was, but the little fish had no experience with open water – or getting out of trouble on his own. It wasn’t long before Gordon was halfway to the rock island, and everything seemed to be going fine. Virgil even managed to start to relax a bit. It seemed like he was going to make it out there just fine. His pace had slowed a little, but that was to be expected. Then suddenly something wasn’t right. Gordon had slowed right down, almost to a complete stop, his legs no longer breaking the surface with his kicks. He rolled onto his back and made a couple of awkward backstrokes, then he went under. Just for a millisecond. But it was enough to have Virgil scrambling to get into the dinghy. Gordon tried to shout, but the effort seemed to cause his head to bob under again. Virgil rowed as fast as he could, his head twisted to look over his shoulder, not wanting to take his eyes off his little brother, praying each time he went under that he’d see blond hair break the surface again. Swear words repeated over and over like a mantra with every stroke of the oars. Strong, long strokes propelled the little wooden boat through the water. He fought back panic. He would get there in time. He had to get there in time. He had to save his brother. Gordon seemed to be losing the battle to stay afloat, arms flailing, panicking, bobbing and spluttering. He knew Virgil was trying to get to him, and he was desperate to keep his head above water until he got there, but kicking was difficult and painful. His left leg was not obeying. He’d never experienced a cramp like this before. Virgil finally reached the spot where Gordon had just gone under again. Leaning over the side of the boat, mindful of leaning too far and capsizing, he grabbed a flailing arm with one hand and reached the other into the water to grab a handful of blond hair. He ignored the shock of the cold mere inches below the surface and hauled his brother up far enough for him to gasp for air. He adjusted his grip and dragged Gordon into the boat, where he lay coughing and spluttering, shivering and absolutely terrified. Virgil sat, boat rocking beneath them, breathing hard and equally terrified, watching his brother, grateful for the coughing because at least he knew he was still breathing. “You okay?” Virgil panted out once the coughing had died down a little. “Cramp!” Gordon gasped out in reply, indicating his left leg. “Calf muscle? Here?” Virgil was kneeling with Gordon’s left foot resting on his thigh, fingers gently kneading into his calf. Gordon responded with a nod and a little groan of pain. Virgil spent a few minutes massaging the cramped muscle. He wasn’t sure if Gordon’s tears were from the pain in his leg or fear or relief, but he suddenly felt like he’d do anything to stop them. All he could offer were words of reassurance. Words that comforted both of them. “It’s okay, Gords. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” Virgil’s fingers worked methodically, gently, gradually relaxing the muscle, relieving Gordon’s agony, and calming both of them down in the process. Gordon was soon wriggling his leg free of Virgil’s grasp to sit up on the floor of the little rowboat. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs, still shivering. “Hold on, Gordon.” Virgil shifted himself back onto the seat and took up the oars. “Let’s get you back to shore and then we can warm you up.” Rowing back to the wooden dock seemed to take so much longer than it had to row out into the lake. Virgil wasn’t sure if this was because there were currents working against him or if he was just a great deal more tired now. Or maybe it was the lack of terrifying urgency driving his actions on the return trip. Either way, he was grateful to make it safely to the dock and get the boat secured. Gordon was adamant he could get out of the boat on his own, but Virgil’s assistance was accepted readily when he found himself unsteady on his feet. Virgil retrieved the T-shirt Gordon had so hastily tossed aside earlier and draped it over his little brother’s back. It didn’t take much convincing for Gordon to remain sitting on the dock in the same knees-huddled-to-chest position he’d adopted in the boat while Virgil raced up to his rock platform to retrieve all his gear. He also made a quick dash across the sand to find Gordon’s discarded shoes before returning. He didn’t like how quiet and still the normally boisterous boy was. The paleness of his skin and the fact he was still shivering – or perhaps trembling – worried him even more. The now damp T-shirt had been pulled on over his head but offered little in the way of warmth. “Hey, Gordon. Arms up,” Virgil instructed, holding his own hoodie ready to slip over the blond head. Gordon did as he was told without comment or complaint, seeming to Virgil a little like some sort of robotic puppet. The hoodie was way too big, but it was soft and thick and most importantly dry. With head and arms now inserted into their correct holes, Virgil knelt in front of Gordon and pulled the hoodie down over his entire tucked-up body. Not even his feet protruded from beneath the hem. He then wrapped his arms around the whole bundle of little brother and rubbed vigorously to generate some heat. “Virgil?” Glossy brown eyes peeked out from beneath the sweater’s hood. The voice was quiet and had a quality to it that felt somehow small and uncertain. “I’m sorry.” The look in his brother’s eyes, more than the words, stung Virgil somewhere deep inside. “What?” Virgil answered. “What for?” “I didn’t listen. You told me not to and I . . .” “That doesn’t matter now.” Virgil’s arms tightened ever so slightly around him, and Gordon rested his head against his big brother’s shoulder. “All I care about right now is making sure you’re okay.” For a moment, the two boys stayed locked in the embrace, Gordon letting the feeling of safety envelop him, Virgil feeling the rise and fall of Gordon’s chest with every breath. He was relieved to find his brother relaxing into an even, steady pattern of deep breaths. There was no sign of any wheezing, and the coughs and splutters seemed long gone. “Come on. Let’s get you home,” Virgil said softly, giving Gordon’s back one final rub before releasing the hug. He slipped his backpack straps over his shoulders, held his hands out for Gordon to take so he could help him onto his feet, then lifted him up into a reverse piggyback hold. Gordon’s arms looped around his neck, and his legs wrapped around his waist without hesitation or protest, and Virgil set off for home at a slow but steady pace. The gentle but constant incline of the path back to the top track gave Virgil quite a workout with the additional weight he carried, but he took it in his stride. Gordon remained so still and quiet, hooded head resting against his left shoulder, Virgil thought he might have fallen asleep. He tried not to jostle his bundle of brother too much as he picked his way up the hill. When he reached the relative flat ground where the lake path rejoined the top track, Virgil took a moment to catch his breath, and Gordon stirred. “Hey, Virgil?” he said quietly. “When we get home . . . we don’t have to tell anyone what happened, do we?” “Gordon, we have to tell Mom. You nearly drowned!” Gordon caught his brother’s gaze and for the first time saw there was fear in those deep brown eyes. It made something in his insides feel fluttery. “But I’m okay,” he pleaded. “You saved me.” “I pulled you out of the water, but . . .” Virgil wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence and sighed. “If you got any water in your lungs, that would be bad. I’m not sure exactly how it works, but sometimes it can make a person have trouble breathing hours after they’ve been rescued from drowning.” “Oh.” The initial response was almost whispered, then Gordon’s features and tone brightened. “But –” “Did you swallow any water?” Virgil cut him off. “Because the water in the lake could make you sick if you did.” Gordon’s brow creased. “No. I don’t think so. Maybe?” Virgil sighed once more, then began walking again. “I don’t want to scare you, Gords, but what happened out there was a big deal.” “I know,” Gordon whimpered, and held on to Virgil a little tighter. “But I’m not scared now. I’m safe. I was afraid. In the water, when I thought . . . when I couldn’t . . . It was scary, but now I’m not scared because you’re here and you saved me.” Virgil remained silent. “Would it be less scary for you if you stay with me until you know I’m not going to get sick or stop breathing?” Gordon whispered. The rhythm of Virgil’s footfalls faltered for a step or two. “I promise I won’t leave your sight until you’re sure I’m okay. Then we don’t have to tell Mom unless I get sick. Okay?” For a moment, Virgil couldn’t say anything. The lump in his throat was too much of an obstacle. He blinked a few times to clear his swimming vision, huffed out a ragged sigh, and hitched his brother a little higher on his hips. “Okay, Little Fish. You got a deal. I won’t tell Mom, and you and I stick together like glue for tonight.” Not long after their deal was struck Virgil’s steady paces brought them out of the trees and into the paddock, with home in sight. It seemed they had beaten Lucy home, as her car wasn’t parked in its usual spot, but John’s bike was neatly leaned on its stand next to the others, and Virgil suspected Scott was already home too.

He was relieved to finally climb the stairs and deposit Gordon gently on his feet on the front porch. Slipping off his backpack and rolling his shoulders to ease tired muscles, Virgil followed his younger brother through the front door and into the kitchen. He might have known Gordon would gravitate towards food. At least this was a good sign – if Gordon was hungry, then he probably wasn’t feeling any ill effects from swallowing lake water. “Oh, look. It finally happened,” Scott said with a smirk and an elbow to John’s ribs. “One of Virgil’s hoodies grew legs and walked away.” “Ha-ha,” Gordon replied as he grabbed the jug of juice from the fridge. “Seriously, Gordon,” John spoke up from his seat at the kitchen table, where he and Scott had been finishing their afternoon snacks, “what’s with the hoodie? It’s gotta be ninety-six degrees outside.” “He just wanted to prove me wrong,” Virgil chimed in, walking straight to the cupboard and grabbing a couple of glasses. “I told him he would disappear completely inside one of my hoodies.” He noted the suspicious looks but ignored them as he poured juice for himself and Gordon. “How was the space thing at the library?” As John began eagerly explaining in great detail the highlights of the interactive exhibition, Virgil met Scott’s expression of curiosity with his best nothing-to-see-here shrug. He knew the innocent look he tried to project wouldn’t be enough to prevent Scott from seeing straight through the change of subject. Scott’s sapphire-blue eyes had the ability to cut like diamonds, and right at that moment Virgil felt the full weight of their scrutiny. He tried to give a reassuring smile and turn his attention to John’s increasingly fast-paced account of the space exhibit. “Actually, that sounds pretty cool,” Gordon said with an air of surprise and a warm smile at the conclusion of John’s animated description. He drained the dregs of his glass of juice and turned to Virgil. “I’m gonna go upstairs and change clothes.” “I’ll be up in a minute,” Virgil replied. Gordon left the room at a trot and bounded up the stairs. Scott and John were both back to studying Virgil intently. “What?” “Why’s Gordon so attached to you all of a sudden?” Scott asked. “He’s practically asking you for permission to leave the room.” Virgil’s gaze flicked between the blue and the turquoise, and he resisted the urge to squirm. “I don’t know. I guess we just had kind of a good day.” It was the only thing Virgil could think of to say. “You two spent the whole day together and you’re not sick of the sight of each other?” It was John’s turn to question the lack of frustrated bickering that would normally have surfaced between them. Virgil just shrugged, finished his own glass of juice, and picked up his backpack. “I’m gonna go put this stuff away.” He left the room, deliberately not hurrying but desperate to escape from the interrogation he felt was coming. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, Gordon’s bedroom door opened. He was wearing his clownfish pyjamas, and Virgil couldn’t help but grin. “Virgil?” Gordon packed so much uncertainty into just his name Virgil was a little concerned at what might be coming. “Do you think maybe . . . I mean could we, maybe . . . Do you wanna build a blanket fort with me?” “Actually, I think that’s a pretty great idea.” When Lucy arrived home, wrangling a grizzly Alan who had missed his afternoon nap, and exhausted from a rather frustrating day full of unnecessary delays at every stop, she found Scott and John in the kitchen getting dinner started. Neither had seen the other two boys in a while, so she settled Alan in the living room with his favourite cartoon and headed upstairs to investigate. She found them in Gordon’s and Alan’s room. At least, she found evidence that this was where they had been for some time. Half of the room was obscured by a complex construction created out of pillows, blankets, and assorted bed linen supported by various pieces of furniture and some rather ingeniously rigged clothesline string. “Well, look at you two in here together, thick as thieves!” Lucy said as her head emerged from between two blankets that served as the entrance. “Hi, Mom! We’re building a blanket fort!” Gordon explained excitedly. Virgil rolled his eyes. “She can see that, doofus.” “And it is quite an impressive feat of engineering.” She winked and smiled. “What did you boys get up to on your walk today? Lots of exciting adventures, no doubt.” A look passed between the two. “Nothing,” Gordon blurted out, just as Virgil spoke. “Not much.” Virgil added a shrug and a somewhat apologetic expression. “Just . . . boy stuff.” “Yeah, Mom. Boy stuff,” Gordon repeated emphatically. “We can’t tell you because you’re a girl.” Lucy’s head tilted slightly, an eyebrow raised, and the corners of her mouth and eyes began a slow upward quirk into a smile. She wondered what they were up to, but she was happy the two of them were getting along well. “Hmm. Does this boy stuff include any drawings I’m allowed to see?” If they wouldn’t tell her where they’d been, perhaps she could discern something from Virgil’s sketches. “Can I show you later? Tomorrow maybe?” Virgil squirmed a little under the inquisitive gaze of those soft, honey-coloured eyes. Usually he loved sharing his artworks with Mom. She always praised the bits she thought he’d done well and knew exactly how to suggest little improvements without making it seem like he’d made mistakes. Sometimes it felt like she saw more in his drawings than what he’d put in them. “Okay,” she said, changing tack. “Are you two coming out of there to join the rest of us for dinner?” Another look between the brothers. The plot thickening before her eyes. “Can we come back in here after dinner?” Gordon asked. “Could we, maybe, both sleep in here for tonight?” Virgil followed up quickly. Lucy studied the faces of her two brown-eyed boys. These two were not regular partners in shenanigans. There was something going on here that she was not quite sure she understood just yet, but there didn’t seem to be any harm in what they were asking. “I don’t see why not,” she answered, and was rewarded with two beaming smiles. “Go wash up and you can set the table while I help your brothers finish up in the kitchen.” Dinner for the most part was about as chaotic as usual. Alan was still irritable and played with more of his food than he ate, making a mess of himself and the table in front of him in the process. Scott and John both gave lengthy answers to their mom’s enquiries about how they had spent the day. There were all the usual arguments over who would get the last helpings of this or that as plates and dishes were rapidly emptied, their contents hungrily devoured. Virgil and Gordon managed to talk about the more innocent parts of their day, clinging to descriptions of what plants were flowering, the types of birds they saw, the spiders and beetles and butterflies, rather than any specific mention of the lake. As the scrape of knives and forks on plates finally died down, Lucy began clearing serving dishes off the table. “How about tomorrow we all have a day at the pool?” Standing behind her water-baby as she spoke, she gave his hair a ruffle. John and Scott were both quick to answer with excited affirmatives, Alan enthusiastically exclaimed “Swim!”, but she didn’t see the panicked look that flashed across Gordon’s face as he looked across the table at Virgil. “That sounds great, Mom,” was Virgil’s reply as he kept his eyes firmly on Gordon, trying to relay a sense of calm reassurance that he didn’t really feel. If anyone noticed Gordon’s lack of enthusiasm at the suggestion, no one made mention of it. Perhaps his reaction was lost in the flurry of activity as the table was cleared and Alan was escorted upstairs for his bath. Virgil did notice an odd expression cross Scott’s face as he watched Gordon begin loading dirty cutlery into the dishwasher, but he said nothing before leaving the kitchen. John and Scott had helped cook dinner, so Virgil and Gordon were left to load the dishwasher and tidy the kitchen. “Gordon?” Virgil caught his little brother’s attention with a gentle flick of a tea towel, and a sullen expression was his reply. “Don’t you want to go to the pool tomorrow?” Gordon shrugged. Virgil kept his voice low, not wanting anyone to hear the conversation. “You always get excited about going to the pool. You’ve been begging Mom to take us every day for the entire summer. People will ask questions if you suddenly don’t want to go.” The look in Gordon’s eyes was a complicated mixture of fear, sadness, and uncertainty that had Virgil once again wanting to do anything he could to take away the pain. He was about to say something more when he heard John’s voice carry through from the living room and thought better of it. The discussion wasn’t over, but it would have to wait. The rest of their kitchen duty was completed in awkward silence. Chores done, they headed upstairs, back to their blanket fort. They had barely begun to settle into the pile of pillows and cushions when a small hand, followed by a headful of slightly damp blond hair, poked through from beneath a blanket wall. Bright blue eyes sparkled as a giggle escaped through a cheeky grin. “Peek-a-boo!” Alan exclaimed and wriggled his way into the enclosure. “Alan!?” Lucy parted the fort’s entrance with her arms so the blankets draped like a stage curtain. As her eyes came to rest on her littlest, a wave of relief was reflected in her fond smile. “Say good night to your brothers and I’ll read you a story.” Liberal good-night cuddles were dished out to both big brothers before Lucy ushered Alan out so she could bundle him into bed. “You two – shower or bath, teeth brushing – go!” she instructed. By the time Virgil and Gordon had washed and brushed and were attired for bed (again in Gordon’s case), Alan was asleep, the bedroom was illuminated only by Alan’s star projecting night light, and their mom was holding her finger up to her lips. “Shh. Try not to wake your little brother,” she whispered. She gave each of them a hug and a kiss on the forehead. “Don’t stay up all night!” Virgil and Gordon were soon alone and comfortably secure in their plush fortress. Their flashlights had been propped between pillows and furniture so they provided a soft glow amid the cosy gloom. “Talk to me, Fish,” Virgil said softly. “You’ve been so quiet since dinner. Are you feeling okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine.” Gordon’s slumped posture added to Virgil’s impression that his brother looked pretty miserable. “It’s just . . .” A huge sigh escaped his tiny frame. “You’re worried about tomorrow?” Virgil finished for him. “Do you think I could tell Mom I have to do some reading for school or something?” Virgil’s eyes widened and his heart dropped into his stomach. His little brother might not be physically sick or injured, but he was not okay. “You know that’s not gonna work, Gordon. You’ve been pestering her all summer to take you to the pool. If you suddenly don’t want to go, she’s going to be super suspicious. And nobody will believe that you would ditch the pool in favour of schoolwork. Especially in summer!” “I know.” Another sigh. A long silence. “It’s just, when Mom said we’d all go to the pool tomorrow I . . . Normally I’d be really excited, but this time I kind of got scared.” “What are you scared of?” Gordon thought Virgil’s question was a pretty stupid one considering what had happened at the lake, and his scowling glare communicated as much. “I mean, what exactly scares you about going to the pool? Are you afraid you might get into trouble like you did in the lake?” Gordon’s expression turned more quizzical as he considered what Virgil was trying to say. “Because the pool is going to be very different from the lake. The water is clear. You can always see the bottom. The temperature is controlled and kept fairly warm. There’s a lifeguard on duty all the time keeping everyone safe, and we’ll all be there with you. You won’t be on your own, far from shore.” “I guess.” “Gordon, you love the water. You always have, even when you were tiny. You’re always happiest when you’re in the water – even if it’s just the bath or splashing in puddles.” “Not anymore.” “You have to get back on the horse,” Virgil said absently, almost to himself. “What? What horse? What does that have to do with the pool?” “It’s a figure of speech. Something Grandpa says. If you fall off the horse, you’ve gotta get right back on. You can’t let one bad experience make you scared forever, and the sooner you get back up on the horse after falling, the easier it is to ride again.” Gordon looked uncertain. “So, you’re saying that I have to go to the pool tomorrow and get back in the water or else I might be scared of swimming forever?” “I’m saying you have to go to the pool tomorrow because swimming makes you happy. You’re good at it, and you can’t let today stop you from doing something that makes you light up like Fourth of July fireworks and grin like the Cheshire Cat.” There was another long silence. Gordon scooted a little closer to his big brother and rested his head against Virgil’s shoulder. “Will you stay with me tomorrow? At the pool?” Virgil wriggled his arm under his brother and tugged him closer. “For as long as you need me to,” he affirmed. “We’ll start off in the shallow end. Mess around for a while, just getting wet, splashing about. Pretty soon you’ll be swimming like a fish and I won’t be able to keep up. But I promise I’ll stay close and watch out for you, okay?” “Okay.” Despite how tired he sounded, there was a brightness to Gordon’s voice that caused a wave of relief to sweep over Virgil. The day’s exploits had exhausted the two boys. Their little nest was cosy and warm, and the close contact between them helped relax them both as they quickly drifted off to sleep. But Virgil’s usually sound sleep was disturbed by unpleasant dreams. Twice he woke suddenly, heart pounding and breathing hard, certain that something terrible had happened and with an unshakable need to check on Gordon, only to find him safely asleep beside him. He lay awake after each nightmare, watching the even rise and fall of his brother’s chest, noticing every little twitch and murmur made as he slept. He had a feeling it would be a while before he could completely shake these nightmares, but it was comforting to think that Gordon had been spared the same kind of disruption through the night.

*** Morning dawned bright and warm, and despite the duvet cover preventing much sunlight penetrating the sanctuary of the fort, Gordon was awake with the dawn chorus. He tried to let his brother sleep, happy to listen to the soft snores and try not to giggle, but he quickly became impatient. Virgil woke to gentle but insistent poking to the ribs and the repeated whispering of his name. When he peeled his eyes open, he was greeted with brown eyes mere inches in front of his own and a beaming smile. “We’re going to the pool today, Virgil,” Gordon whispered with a hint of excitement. “You have to get up.” “Okay, okay,” Virgil managed to somewhat grunt as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. Then he registered the expression on his little brother’s face, the gleam in the eyes and the fact that the smile still hadn’t faltered, and a smile of his own spread from the depths of his heart and across his face. The mixture of nerves and eagerness thrumming through Gordon all morning was enough to give the rest of the family the impression he was full of barely contained excitement fitting for the day of a visit to the pool. He repeatedly asked when they would be leaving and was repeatedly told they would head out after lunch. He offered to pack everyone’s towels and Alan’s floaties into a bag ready for later, and he fidgeted and bounced his way through to lunchtime. After lunch, as promised, Lucy piled all the boys into the family car and drove them to the public pool. She paid their admission, and they all tumbled through the turnstile. As usual, Scott, who had never grown out of wanting to go everywhere at top speed, and Gordon raced away to find them a spot on the grass where bags and towels could be unceremoniously dumped before they hit the water. By the time Virgil and John joined them, T-shirts had already been discarded and comments about the fate of the last person into the water were being bandied about. When Lucy was finally able to set down her load of Alan and the bagful of necessities required for their day out, her four oldest boys were already racing towards the Olympic-sized pool. Scott first, John not far behind, and Gordon practically dragging Virgil by the hand.

Lucy kept an eye on her boys happily splashing about with each other in the shallow end of the pool while she got herself and Alan stripped down to their bathing suits and slid Alan’s floaties on over his head and arms. They had started a game of Chicken Fight by the time she slid herself into the water and lifted Alan down into her arms. John, sitting on Scott’s shoulders and Gordon atop Virgil’s, were locked in grappling combat. Scott and John had the advantage of both height and reach, and it was not long before Gordon toppled into the water. A rematch produced the same result in short order, and Gordon exacted revenge by distracting Scott with an underwater pantsing, causing him to break his hold on John, who overbalanced and slid from Scott’s shoulders into the pool. Lucy and Alan laughed along with the others as Scott protested foul play. Handstand competitions and a game of Freeze Tag followed. Lucy took Alan to the toddler pool where he could splash about more freely, instructing the older boys to behave and try not to bother other pool users too much while she was gone. Virgil was pleased to see that, just as he’d predicted, Gordon was happily swimming rings around them all as they played. He’d stuck close to Virgil at first, but after the Chicken Fights, he was swimming farther and faster in his efforts to escape being tagged and spending longer underwater with every passing minute. It seemed he had slipped right back into his home environment without any lasting dramas. As the afternoon shadows grew long, one by one Lucy’s boys returned to their spot on the grass. She and Alan had grown tired of the water first, and Alan had even had a short sleep amongst the pile of towels as they waited for the others to tire themselves out. Scott was first of the older boys to tire of swimming and return to towel off and dress in dry clothes, with John quick to follow. Lucy was a little surprised at how long Virgil lasted in the water until she spotted him sitting on the edge of the pool with just his feet and lower legs in the water watching Gordon as he shot back and forth across the free-play area, dodging strangers. She gave a shrill two-finger whistle. Virgil, recognising the signal, turned his head to look back at her, and she beckoned with her hand to indicate it was time to go. It seemed to take a while to convince Gordon to get out of the pool, but Lucy was not surprised. The car ride home was a fairly quiet one, the boys having spent a great deal of energy over the course of the afternoon. They brightened at the suggestion of ordering pizza for dinner when they got home, and there was a brief buzz of conversation when she mentioned their father would be home by the weekend. He had only been away for two weeks, but the older boys had never really grown out of getting excited by his return. This latest trip wasn’t as far away as Mars or even the moon, but the prospect of having Dad home again still triggered that same feeling of welcoming someone who had been long absent. He may not visit space for work any longer, and his absences could be measured in days instead of months or years, but it was always great to have him home again. “He already has big plans for this year’s Last Day of Summer,” Lucy mentioned with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “It’s only ten days away now!” While Scott and John speculated on what their dad might have in store for the annual family day at the lake on the last weekend before they went back to school, Virgil felt a small hand slip inside his and squeeze. He looked to his left at Gordon staring silently out the car window and gave a slight hand squeeze of his own in reply. While today had helped, it was obvious his little brother was still harbouring some fear of returning to the lake. There was no chance for Virgil to talk one-on-one with Gordon when they got home from the pool. As was fairly normal in the Tracy household, there always seemed to be someone else around or something that needed doing, and before he knew it, Gordon was already tucked in bed and reading a bedtime story with Mom. Virgil took a little longer than normal in the shower, needing the time alone with his thoughts. If Gordon acted anything less than excited about going to the lake for Last Day of Summer, it wouldn’t be long before their little secret would come to light. He had to find a way to get Gordon’s confidence back, but he was starting to wonder if he could manage on his own. With something like this, he would normally talk things out with Scott. It felt wrong to be hiding something from him and even more wrong to be hiding things from Mom. He was beginning to wonder whether he should just let the cat out of the bag and tell the truth, but he really didn’t want to let his little brother down either. Unable to face revealing how close he’d come to letting his brother drown, Virgil ended up avoiding any chance of conversation for the evening and shut himself away in his room until it was time for bed. John was in and out of the shared bedroom as he began preparing to turn in for the night, but it was not unusual for the two of them to quietly do their own thing without really exchanging words. When Lucy popped her head inside the door to check on her two quietest boys and say good night, Virgil tried his best to act like everything was normal. Her gaze fell heavily on him for a moment, and he had to fight the urge to tell her everything about the day at the lake and ask her advice. “Don’t stay up too late, boys,” she playfully warned them. “Lights out by 9:30 please, Virgil, and John, no more stargazing after lights out!” “Okay, Mom,” they both answered automatically and in chorus. “Good night.” It took a while for Virgil to fall asleep that night, mind whirling with the thought of his little brother being afraid of something that had always been a source of such joy. There had to be a way to fix it – every problem had a solution, you just had to find it, that’s what Dad would say. As tired as he was, his mind kept trying to focus on finding that solution before drifting away into a sleepy fog. Gordon didn’t know exactly what time it was, but he knew it was very late. The house was quiet. The room wasn’t dark – Alan’s night-light saw to that – but he couldn’t hear any voices, any indication of anyone moving around downstairs or in the bathrooms and bedrooms. Everyone must be asleep. He had startled awake, sitting bolt upright, breathless, heart pounding, eyes prickling with oncoming tears and really wishing he wasn’t so alone. He’d been dreaming about the lake, and now he didn’t want to go back to sleep. Slipping silently from his bed, he tiptoed across the floor, careful not to disturb Alan, and crept out into the hall. He hesitated for a moment. Normally he would head for his parents’ room, but Mom would ask what the dream was about, and he didn’t want to tell her about swimming in the lake. He didn’t want to get in trouble – or get Virgil into trouble. Gordon changed direction and headed for Virgil’s and John’s room. Being very careful to open the door without a sound and close it just as silently behind him, Gordon stood in the pitch-dark bedroom for a moment and let his eyes adjust. He couldn’t understand why his bigger brothers liked it so dark, he found it a bit creepy, but he couldn’t turn on the light and risk waking John. It wasn’t long before he could make out the shape of Virgil’s bed amongst the gloom, and he stealthily padded across the carpet to stand beside his sleeping brother. Now that he was here, he wasn’t really sure how to wake him or whether he should. He stood twisting the fingers of both hands around each other, close to tears again. “Virgil?” he whispered, barely above a breath. No response. “Virge?” This time a little louder, a little more desperate, a little more whiney and accompanied by a sniff. He tried tapping Virgil’s shoulder a few times, but his brother didn’t budge from where he lay curled on his side, facing the wall. In the end, not knowing what else to do, Gordon climbed across the bottom of the bed and squeezed his way past Virgil’s knees, wriggled himself under the covers and Virgil’s arm, and curled himself into the space between his brother and the wall. It was around three a.m. when Virgil woke to find he wasn’t alone in the bed. He didn’t know how or when Gordon had come to be there, but he could hear him softly whimpering and feel him shaking with the occasional sob. “Gordon,” he whispered softly, “are you okay?” He tugged his brother a little tighter to him, feeling him struggle to get the sobbing under control and even out his breathing. “Had a bad dream,” came the ever-so-quiet response. Virgil eased his grip and shuffled over on the bed, allowing Gordon to roll over and face him, but he kept his hand resting against his brother’s back. Neither of them spoke for a moment, and the quiet darkness seemed both comforting and ominous at the same time. Gordon heaved a deep breath in and let it out in a sigh before breaking the silence. He kept his voice low, but once he started, the words tumbled out in a torrent. “I can’t go back to the lake for Last Day of Summer, Virgil. I don’t want to go back in the water and everyone will know that’s not normal and want to know why and I don’t want them to know what I did and –” “Shh,” Virgil soothed, rubbing Gordon’s back as he spoke. “We’ll work something out together. I promise.” “You mean so we don’t have to go?” “No, I mean so you won’t be afraid anymore. We have to go. It’s tradition. And I think we both have to go back to the lake and confront our fears.” “You’re scared too? Wait, what are you scared of?” It was Virgil’s turn to let out a sigh. “Gordon, as annoying as you sometimes are, you are my little brother, and if anything happened to you – anything really bad, I mean – I’d be . . .” Another sigh. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. And I guess I’m scared of what might have happened. I keep having bad dreams where I couldn’t save you.” Gordon was suddenly wrapped around him like an octopus, his skinny little arms squeezing tight around Virgil like he was never going to let go and legs twining their way between bedding and body to latch on too. Despite feeling a little bit trapped within the many-limbed embrace, Virgil felt oddly comforted by it. “You don’t have to hold so tight, little octopus. I’m not going anywhere,” Virgil whispered into blond hair. “I’m not an octopus,” came the muffled reply, buried somewhere in Virgil’s neck, “I’m a squid.” “Okay then, Squid. How about we try and get some sleep and work this out tomorrow?” Gordon’s hold on his brother relaxed enough for them both to get a little more comfortable in the bed, but it was clear he wasn’t letting go. Virgil managed to get one arm disentangled enough to trace his hand back and forth across Gordon’s back, helping to lull him to sleep. Slumber quickly claimed the older brother soon after.

*** Morning crept up on them, dawning overcast and gloomy, despite being summer warm. As a result, Gordon slept later than he normally would and was woken by John’s quiet movements as he rolled out of the bed on the other side of the room and shuffled towards the bathroom. If John noticed the interloper in Virgil’s bed, he didn’t say anything, so Gordon took the opportunity to unceremoniously climb over his brother and hightail it back to his own room. Virgil woke with a start after yet another nightmare. Sitting up and trying to reacquaint himself with reality, he realised Gordon was no longer with him, and his heart rate ratcheted up a few more notches in brief panic. Catching sight of the clock and taking a few slow, deep breaths, Virgil managed to convince himself that everything was fine, Gordon had obviously just woken up earlier and was more than likely perfectly okay. But he needed to check. He tumbled out of bed and, after a brief detour to the bathroom, stumbled his way down the corridor in search of Gordon. Finding the tiny two’s bedroom deserted, he headed downstairs and found his target in the living room. Virgil stood in the doorway watching Gordon playing with Alan for a few minutes. Seeing his goofball brother being his normal, animated self and hearing the shrieks and giggles his antics prompted from Alan were enough to reassure him that yes, Gordon was just fine. Sometime after Virgil had found himself some breakfast and begun to consider himself properly awake, John found him sitting at the piano, absently staring out the window. John didn’t recall hearing Virgil play any practice exercises, and Virgil’s brow was furrowed in deep concentration, so John concluded that he was there more for the familiarity than the urge to play music. He did this sometimes – sat there just thinking, wheels turning, gears shifting, working something out in his head – and John always found it interesting to watch the thought process play out through Virgil’s expressions. But the expression wasn’t changing. “Virgil?” John prompted with some concern. “You okay?” With a jolt, Virgil tore his eyes away from the view he wasn’t really seeing out the window and focussed them on John. “Yeah.” Virgil sighed. “I just have something I need to do, something that needs fixing, and I don’t know how to do it.” “Look it up,” John answered with a shrug. “That’s what I’d do. There’s probably a book about it somewhere or a repair manual or instructional video. If I want to know how something works or how to do something, I start with research.” With that, John walked away, leaving Virgil to ponder how to research fixing a fear of swimming in a lake. And then it hit him. Research was the answer, he just had to look up the right thing – not how to fix the fear, but all the things there were to be afraid of. The more information you know about the thing you’re afraid of, the less scary it becomes. So, all he had to do was look up everything that could cause someone to get into trouble swimming in a lake – and maybe rivers, streams, and oceans too – and learn everything about them. If he knew how to spot the dangers or how to prevent them and how to get out of trouble, then maybe Gordon wouldn’t be afraid anymore. Virgil set off at a run to go and find Gordon. At first, Gordon wasn’t sure about this idea of Virgil’s. Sitting in front of a holoscreen looking up information sounded a lot like homework. But Virgil was insistent that they at least give it a try. After all, it couldn’t hurt to know more about different waterways. “Okay, so where do we start?” Gordon asked as they settled themselves at the big desk in the corner of the living room. “Well, what scares you most when you think about going swimming in the lake?” “Getting another cramp.” Gordon’s reply was quiet, and suddenly Virgil hated himself for making his little brother revisit that moment when everything had gone wrong. He put his hand on Gordon’s shoulder and offered a reassuring squeeze. “Then let’s start there. We can find out what causes cramps when you swim and learn how to prevent them or how to manage them.” Virgil found a great deal of information on muscle cramps related to swimmers, which he quickly became quite absorbed in. He had to remind himself to stick to the sites with simple wording and steer clear of the ones that crossed too far into medical jargon territory. The boys learned the importance of warming up before swimming, being careful not to overexert the muscles, and staying hydrated. They also found that cold water could increase the chance of cramping. Virgil physically shivered at the memory of plunging his arm into deceptively cold water to grab at one of the only parts of his little brother he could still see. They researched swimming in cold water, what caused cold spots in lakes and rivers and whether you could spot them, and ways you could avoid them or deal with them. They learned about different types of currents – ones you could see, and ones you wouldn’t know about until you felt them. Submerged objects, reeds and seaweed, rocks and tree roots . . . “What are you guys doing?” Scott startled them so badly Virgil jumped and Gordon squeaked. “Researching water safety.” Virgil decided honesty was the best way to go . . . to a point. “It’s for Rescue Scouts.” “But we don’t go back to Rescue Scouts until a week after school goes back.” Scott eyed both brothers suspiciously. “We know, but there’s no harm in getting in early, and Gordon really wants his Water Safety badge.” Virgil had to resist the urge to squirm under the scrutiny of his big brother’s gaze as Scott remained silent for what seemed like a whole minute. “Well, it’s time for lunch,” Scott finally said before turning his back on them and heading for the kitchen. Gordon grinned up at Virgil, who huffed out a long exhale in relief. He didn’t think Scott completely believed the Rescue Scout story, but it seemed as though they would be able to continue their research unquestioned. In fact, no one questioned the time these two spent together in snatches of an hour or two here and there over a couple of days, continuing to search out information on the best ways to stay safe in just about any body of water. Gordon had even made a scrapbook of notes and pictures so he could keep track of all the things they’d learned. Excuses aside, when Rescue Scouts resumed after the summer break, Gordon would already be well on his way to earning his Water Safety badge in earnest. As promised, Jeff was back home by the time the boys awoke on Saturday morning, and he began dropping hints about his plans for the best Last Day of Summer yet. It was to be bigger and better than ever before because, for the first time since they began making the end-of-summer vacation a celebration, it coincided with Virgil’s birthday. The first hints encouraged the boys to check their tents and sleeping bags. It wouldn’t just be a day out with a picnic lunch this year, it would be an overnight campout. There was a promise of campfire tales and s’mores and a special surprise that required the night sky as a backdrop. There were hints about guests that prompted a whole day of guessing who might be joining them at the lake. Grandma and Grandpa were the first confirmed additions to the guest list, along with “Uncle” Lee and a mysterious extra guest from England and his daughter, who was apparently around Virgil’s and John’s age. Amidst all the building excitement about the big event at the end of the week, signs of Gordon’s nervousness about returning to the lake were easily missed by the rest of the family. Only Virgil saw the signs – the slight frown at Scott’s mention that they’d all need to remember to bring their swimmers and towels, the look of horror at John wondering if he’d see more stars if he rowed out into the lake after dark. Virgil decided he’d have to take Gordon back to the lake before the weekend. They needed to return to the scene of the crime. Gordon, having come to much the same conclusion in his own way, approached Virgil after breakfast on the Wednesday. The day was clear and bright, much like it had been on the morning of that fateful day little more than a week before. It seemed like a good day to go back and face the monster that the lake had become. “Virgil,” Gordon said quietly, despite there being no one else in the living room at the time, “can we go back to the lake today? Can you take me?” “Today seems like a good day to me,” Virgil answered with a gentle smile. “We’ll have to tell Dad we’re going out for most of the day.” Now that Jeff was back from his trip and working from the home office, Lucy was spending more time at work. The boys were expected to look after each other and only interrupt their father if it was important, but Jeff would check up on them all throughout the day. “Do we have to say where we’re going?” Gordon twined his fingertips around each other, raising his eyes to meet Virgil’s from a head trying to look down at the floor. “We’ll tell him we’re going back to the place we visited last week to finish the drawing,” Virgil suggested. “It’s not exactly a lie. We are going back to the same place.” The knock on Jeff’s office door was tentative but loud enough that he heard it over the voice of the colleague on the other end of the video call. He muted his audio to tell his visitor to wait a moment before unmuting and bringing the phone conversation to a conclusion. “Come in,” he finally called towards the closed door. He was a little surprised by the request for this particular pair to spend a day out together on their own, but he remembered Lucy mentioning something about these two having been out on the top track the week before. He gave them permission to go provided they tell Scott and John where they were going and promise to be back by five. “Take something to eat and plenty of water, Virgil,” he reminded the older boy, “and look after your brother.” “I will, Dad.” Virgil gave a solemn nod, and the two boys slipped back out of the office, closing the door behind them. Bag packed with sandwiches and water bottles, art supplies for the sake of appearances, and towels, the boys were soon striding out across the paddock towards the top track. This time there were no lingering looks at the scenery as they walked – the birds, spiders, and bugs were largely ignored. Unlike the last time they had set out together, Virgil had no desire to hurry, and he let his younger brother set the pace. He noted with a small amount of pride the purposeful strides, the determination in the set of squared shoulders, and the fire in amber eyes as Gordon focused his energy on reaching their destination so he could do what needed to be done. Gordon’s determined march stuttered to a somewhat abrupt halt when they rounded the last curve and stepped onto the silty sand of the lake’s beach. With his eyes fixed on the water, shoulders drooping, it seemed Gordon’s fire had died. Without a word, Virgil placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, the simple gesture having the desired effect – lending the younger boy enough resolve to steel himself once again, lengthen his spine, and straighten his shoulders. Virgil steered them over to a patch of sand where he could spread out a towel for them to sit on. Shoes were shed in preparation for the inevitable trip to the water’s edge, but the boys remained seated. “What do you see out there?” Virgil asked. “It’s the same. Calm. Flat. But it’s different from last time too.” Virgil waited for a moment before trying again, wanting Gordon to see past the feeling of fear. “Remember what we learned about studying the ripples?” he prompted. “Is it really flat and calm?” There was silence as Gordon’s gaze focused intently on the expanse of blue stretching before them. The embers of the fire that had previously lit his eyes seemed to ignite anew as he studied the surface, looking for telltale signs. “There are reeds just under the surface over there,” he said, pointing a little to their left, “and the ripples over here are different to that bit farther out where it looks really smooth.” Virgil could see Gordon’s confidence growing as he gestured to various parts of the lake, telling his big brother what the differences in the rippled and smooth areas were likely to mean in terms of what was going on beneath the surface. Pretty soon they were on their feet and striding into the shallows to test the waters. Gordon entered the water at a slow walk, which Virgil thought was through caution or trepidation at first, but then Gordon gently trailed fingertips through the reeds and beckoned his big brother over. “Virgil, come look,” he called, looking up at him with a grin. “There are fish that feed in the reeds.” The next half hour was spent following Gordon through the shallows exploring the aquatic life found therein. As the younger boy got more caught up in watching the fish, finding different types of reeds, discovering eels, and excitedly pondering all manner of life in the depths of the lake, they wandered deeper into the water. Virgil followed and listened, answering questions as best he could when asked, smiling fondly all the while. The Squid was in his element. “Hey Gordon,” Virgil said as he playfully splashed a well-aimed hand scoop of water into the side of his little brother’s head. “You realise you’re getting your shirt wet, right?” Gordon looked down at the water that was now up to the middle of his chest and back up at his brother with a grin. “Oops.” They briefly returned to the little beach, shed their shirts, and laid them down in the sun to dry. “You know, when we come back this weekend, we’ll mostly be swimming out here where we just were.” Virgil nodded his head back towards the little patch of lake they’d just explored. “We could go a little deeper, actually lift our feet off the bottom and swim for a while. This is the only part of the lake any of us have ever really swum in before.” Gordon’s eyes sparkled with light reflecting off the water as he pondered Virgil’s words for a moment. Mom and Dad had always suggested the boys shouldn’t swim out past where they could touch the bottom and definitely never past the end of the wooden pier. Looking at the pier and the dinghy tied securely to its mooring drew his eye to the rock island beyond, tantalisingly close, yet so terrifyingly far. Virgil watched his squid brother scanning the water, casting his gaze over the safe and familiar. He saw the moment the line was crossed and thoughts turned to the challenge just that little farther afield. Once again, he placed a hand on Gordon’s shoulder, hoping to redirect his thoughts. “Why don’t we just go back in, swim around for a while, have some fun where we know it’s safe?” “Yeah, okay,” Gordon agreed, a little half-heartedly. Virgil took his brother by the hand, and by the time they’d taken two steps, they were running towards the water. He only let go once they were in deep enough that a tug of the hand lifted Gordon’s feet off the bottom and propelled him a short distance through the water. He received a splash to the face for his efforts, but his little brother was smiling and treading water. In no time at all, Gordon was literally swimming rings around his big brother, splashing at him and darting away, taunting him, daring him to swim after him. It was hunger that drove them out of the water and back onto the dry sand sometime later. PB&J sandwiches were retrieved from the backpack and devoured. The late summer sun warmed their shoulders as they sat in content silence, listening to the lapping of the water and the cries of the birds. Virgil would have been happy to remain there soaking it all in, but Gordon soon became restless, his gaze drifting back to where water birds were drying their outstretched wings. “Virgil, I wanna swim to the rock.” The fire was back in Gordon’s eyes. Virgil studied him for a moment, seeing that same determination that had driven the march to the lake. He wasn’t asking for permission, he was making a statement. It was what he’d come here to do – the demon he needed to conquer. Virgil wasn’t feeling anywhere near as courageous as his little brother looked at that moment. “Gordon . . .” “I need to do it, Virgil.” He turned his head, those glowing embers burning straight into his big brother’s wide brown eyes. “But I need you.” “I can’t . . .” “Use the boat. I’ll swim, you row. If I get into trouble, you’ll be right there.” Virgil had to look away. The intensity in those eyes, the body language, the strength of will in his little brother were too much. But it was the faith Gordon was placing in him that was twisting his gut. He caught sight of the rock island, out there beyond the boat docked at the pier. He was suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat thumping just a little too hard and a little too fast. Gordon needed this – needed him to do this with him. He couldn’t let the Squid down. “Okay,” he agreed with a sigh. He had expected a look of triumph, a smile, a victory dance . . . something. Anything but the simple nod and determined knitting of Gordon’s brow that he received in reply. The younger boy then grabbed his water bottle and took a long draught. “Staying hydrated helps stop you getting cramps, right?” Gordon asked. Virgil nodded. “And I should do some warmup stretches before I swim out there.” “Right again.” Virgil was gladdened by the amount of thought and preparation Gordon was putting into the task ahead of him this time. “And you’ll stay close in the boat?” There it was, the uncertainty just below that confident façade. “Right beside you all the way, little brother.” Virgil tried to school his expression into one of reassurance, but he wasn’t sure he managed it. They made their way across the sand and onto the wooden planks of the pier, then stood studying the expanse of water for a moment, watching the ripples and trying to read currents. Looking for dangers. At last Virgil could put it off no longer. Gordon was warmed up and ready to go, they had assessed the risks and had plans in mind for just about any eventuality. It was time to untie the boat and take up the oars. Sitting in the gently rocking dinghy, Virgil had to take a moment to close his eyes and concentrate on a few deep breaths to quell the hammering in his ribcage before looking back up at Gordon and giving a nod. He was as ready as he’d ever be. This time when Gordon dived in, he began his swim with a measured pace rather than a burst of speed that he wouldn’t be able to maintain. Virgil didn’t have to work too hard on the oar strokes to keep up with him. Not far out there was a brief moment of panic when Gordon suddenly stopped his forward momentum and started treading water. An odd expression furrowed his brow, then he ducked his head under the water. Dropping the oars and preparing to make a grab for his brother, Virgil was sure his heart stopped beating altogether for a second before the blond head re-emerged above the surface. Seeing the panic in his big brother’s eyes, Gordon grinned and held up the weed he’d just untangled from his leg. “It’s okay, Virge, no cramps, just waterweed.” And with that, he resumed his swim with a flurry of swift kicks and smooth strokes. By the time Virgil could regather the oars – and his wits – his little brother was ten meters ahead of him. It took only a few strong pulls on the oars to catch up again, but Virgil knew his pulse rate was not going to climb down out of the stratosphere until they were both on dry land. It felt like an eternity, but in reality, it was only a few minutes before Gordon was able to lay his hands on the slippery surface of the rock. Finding a decent hold, he clambered up far enough to sit on a crag, feet still in the water, triumphant grin lighting up his features, water droplets catching the sunlight, causing his hair and skin to glisten as he caught his breath. “I knew I could do it!” he panted as Virgil drew the dinghy close beside him. “I never doubted you, Squiddo,” Virgil agreed, practically beaming with pride at his brother’s achievement. “Now, are you gonna swim back? Or do you want a lift?” Gordon’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t really thought about the return trip. Virgil chuckled. “Um, I think maybe I’ll just come back with you in the boat.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, dragging it back from where it was dripping into his eyes. “No problem, Fish. You’ve proved enough for one day.” With a bit of manoeuvring, jostling, and boat rocking, Gordon was able to climb into the dinghy and settle himself into the seat at the prow. To him, the journey back to the dock seemed to take no time at all. Virgil’s strong, steady strokes with the oars propelled them quickly and smoothly through the water as though it took no effort at all. He jumped out of the boat and onto the pier before Virgil had even finished drawing the oars into the boat, then waited for Virgil to climb out and secure the mooring. “Virgil?” It was all the warning the older boy got as he turned to face his little brother, who closed the space between them at a run and launched himself into what became a squid hug, arms and legs tightly wrapped around Virgil’s torso. It took Virgil a couple of backward steps before he could steady himself under the sudden additional weight. “Thank you. You are the best big brother.” Virgil returned the embrace, allowing a chuckle to escape as he rested his head against damp hair. “You are a pretty amazing little brother, Squid.”

*** The Last Day of Summer celebration, and Virgil’s twelfth birthday turned out to be a fantastic, fun-filled event for all involved. Nothing could hold Gordon back from spending as much time as possible in the water, and so no one knew there had ever been a problem. The nightmares had run their course too. Summer vacation came to an end, and with the start of the school term, life returned to normal. A few weeks later a chance meeting at school pickup resulted in a few puzzle pieces slotting into place for Lucy. Gordon’s class teacher spotted Lucy waiting in the Kiss & Drop zone and made a passing comment about his wonderful piece of creative writing for the obligatory “What I Did Over Summer” assignment. When they got home, with the boys all occupied with snacks or homework and various afterschool activities, Lucy dug out Gordon’s writing workbook and found the story in question titled “My Summer Vacation,” with a large A+ written in red at the top of the page. My Summer Vacation I did lots of things in summer with my big brothers and we had lots of fun but there was one scary day. I went swimming in the lake when I wasn’t supposed to and I nearly drowned but my brother was there and he saved me. After that I was scared to go swimming, but he told me it would make him sad if I didn’t swim anymore because he says swimming makes me happy. We looked up all the ways you can get into trouble swimming in lakes and rivers and oceans. We found out all the ways you can look for dangers and get out of trouble in the water and how to be safe. Now I’m not scared to go swimming anymore. Well, that explained a great deal. Lucy smiled to herself and shook her head a little. She would have words with Virgil about the kind of secrets that needed to be shared with an adult, but she was struck once again by how amazing her boys could be and just how far they would go for one another.

***

#thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fanart #katblu42 #kidthunder's art #tag mini bang 2021

51 notes · View notes

jadienjaystoriesandart · 4 years ago

Text

Sander Sides - Coraline AU

So when scrolling through one of my favorite channels on here I saw someone mention Janus as Other Father, and this got my creativity going. I’ll hash out the characters and ideas, then give you a basic idea of what is cooking in my head. However, I’m not sure on how I want things to go in terms of plot. But I do have a general idea of the characters and their roles as well as background.

Other Mother: Logan Sanders

In this idea the Other Mother would have been Patton, but given there are so many sides, I thought he’d fit another role better. Then my sister suggested Logan as Other Mother, and it fits for the basic plot I have in mind. He goes by Logic by the others in the Other World, or as they call it the Alternate World or Pocket World.

Logan says he’s the eldest one here along with Patton and Janus, and seems to be the head of the ‘family’. He’s a very stoic mother, pushing his kids, which in this case is Roman, Remus, and Virgil, to be smart. Not in a bad way, he’s a silently content mother, and you can tell when he’s proud of you. He cleans mostly and makes sure everything is in place, and enjoys gardening. Mostly he stays in the study or outside.

In terms of power, Logan is the most powerful of them due to being the oldest person there. And no, he doesn’t turn into a spider being, he actually is a type of bird. Looking alot like harpy when you really tick him off. His buttons are dark blue with silver thread and his skin is warm but overly smooth.

Other Fathers: Patton and Janus Sanders No one is really sure who is older, they’ve always been with each other. Janus enjoys making music and Patton enjoys cooking for the family. Both are very fatherly and enjoy doting on their kids. Going by the names of Morality and Deceit/Self. When mother dear isn’t around, it’s up to the one of the fathers to sort things out. Janus is strange, as in he’s the one who gives the hints something isn’t quiet right. Though it’s unknown if these are his actions or not. He seems to like challenging kids that come to the Pocket World to think about what they are seeing and why. Yet does it a very coy way. Then there are days he’ll do a 180 and ask you not to question anything and actively lie about things. His buttons are dark gold with black thread, and he does have scales on his face still. Though, to a kid that’s nothing. Patton is cheerful and bubbly, his dinners are always the best as is his sweets. He’s the one that mostly sticks to Logan the most, and enjoys gardening also. He’s the first to make sure one doesn’t question, easily deflecting odd things, and is great at distracting people. He is Nostalgia after all, his areas when your near him make you feel so happy and get you lost in happy moments. His buttons are light blue with dark blue tread. Both take on forms of a Frog and Snake when angry, which are terrifying. Their skin is also very rubbery feeling. Other Brother: Virgil Sanders Virgil here is the youngest, looking like he’s only 15 or 16. He’s been here the shortest... and looks oddly like a kid that went missing back in the early 2000′s. The Family calls his Anxiety, and he’s rather withdrawn. But does enjoy playing video games or board games with Patton, Janus, and Logan. Soft spoken, sarcastic, and a little emo spiderling, he’s adored by Patton mostly. Who calls him the ‘Dark Strange Son’ alot. Virgil seems rather happy in the Other World. Stating to little Thomas that this world is much better than anything he could dream of. He’s however hesitant to answer questions about things not inside the Other World. Telling Thomas to not think about that, and just be happy. He enjoys his room/the attic, and outside in the front yard. When angry, Virgil is the one with the spider form, taking on a more glass like look and his skin is cold to the touch. His buttons are dark purple with light purple thread.

Other Twins: Roman and Remus Sanders The two Creativity Rascals, they are slightly older then Virgil, but much younger than Janus and Patton. They can warp reality around them when in their favorite spots, be it the Basement for Remus, or the Woods for Roman. Their rooms are actually in the basement in the door near the left side of the house. While Virgil's is in the attic. They serve as the entertainment, coming up with ideas on the fly to go on adventures, play dragons and knights, or kings and castles. The forest, quiet literally, is their playground. Having their own fort and castle there, and a while bunch of land to cover. The twins play fight alot, but they get along very well and are rather close to one another. And are like the cool older brothers who have alot of fun, but are happy to let the youngers join them. Both have tentacles in this one, though Remus is more slimy than his brother. And when they open their extra mouths on their body when angry, it’s very scary. Roman’s buttons are red with green thread, while Remus is green with red thread. And their skin is like plastic almost. Coraline: Thomas Anderson He’s about 12 in this one, just moved to the country side in a little blue house on the back dirt roads. This town is dreadfully boring, with dull, muted colors, always over cast and rainy. It’s like all the happiness has been sucked out of it and left to decay. Thomas is not upset about the move, as he never had many friends, if any, from his old home. He’s mostly upset with the fact he’s just dull, he’s not allowed to be colorful. And to top it off, his parents aren’t always there emotionally for him. Leaving him completely isolated, even more so when he’s a closeted gay in a very religious family. So when he finds a world where everything is colorful, with three dads, well two and a mom, a family who cares about him, he’s excited. Maybe this move won’t be so bad.

Plot: The idea in my head is that Thomas has moved with his parents to a rather nice when hie father got a promotion. But, like most typical rich families, he’s not really paid attention to. And Thomas feels mostly left out, having no friends to call his own, and just his imagination and books to keep him busy. When exploring his new house, finding the attic and basement locked, and a small golden key, he finds a little door. It’s been walled off, which is a bummer. That is until the middle of the night, when Thomas follows a shadow to the door. Finding it leads to a world that is perfect. The world represents everything Thomas wants, brothers, Roman, Remus, and Virgil. Fathers, Patton and Janus, and a mother, Logan, who actually cares about him. He isn’t sure if this is some very real dream or not. But he’s not complaining, he feels welcomed instantly byt he family. Taken on adventures with Roman and Remus, playing games with Virgil and learning knew things from Logan, helping Patton cook, and Janus teaches him music and among other things. But when after a week of this, Thomas starts to see strange cracks in their personalities. And when they one day ask if he wants to stay forever and be part of their family, it meets getting this pink buttons in his eyes. He’s terrified, and now wonders if he’ll ever escape... or even if he wants to. Notes:

So I’m not sure how I want it to be played out. If the Others are truly evil in just that they want to kidnap Thomas just because they are selfish and/or turn him into a doll. OR if I want it to be well meaning sinister, where they think they are doing Thomas a favor by taking him away from his neglectful family.

One thing to note is they do really like Thomas, regardless of intentions, they do like him. And either way, they want him to stay forever.

Now, I’m not sure if I want with the Other Father for Patton to be controlling Janus or Janus to be controlling Patton. One of them is well aware of what they are doing, but can’t go against the wishes of their controller or Logan. While they are happy, the idea of luring kids tends to hurt them inside.

The Other World is bigger than Thomas things, he’s just in a small area that belongs to Logan. There are MANY others out there. Who lure people away into their realm, for better or worse. It’s like it’s own reality, only everything is just perfect. It’s like a nostalgic trap, much like Patton’s room only worse.

Logan is the main guy, he’s been at this for a long time, and either Patton or Janus is their partner depending on who is controlling who. He mainly lures kids as he likes the taste of their humanity. It’s what he feeds off of, draining them of their everything, and making them like dolls, only with a semi soul. Any who does this too becomes his kid or helper. Logan is fine with this, he enjoys having a family. And he only has to feed every few decades or so. He’s been around for a long time. Most of his ‘kids’ have grown up, and become true Others who have their own areas. Virgil, Roman, and Remus though are still MUCH too young for such a thing. Others are NOT human, nor are they ‘aliens’ either. Best thing I can think of are like Fae, only... less magical as we know it. They are creatures who feed off of emotions and the essences that make people human. Which is why they all feel like dolls.

Others are near immortal should they feed properly, and Others areas tend to just attract people to them. Some go after teens, others kids, some adults, taste is everything. Adults tend to be more fulling, but can be bitter and sour tasting, Teens are half and half depending on situation, and are often spicy tasting. While kids are very sweet, and typically are fulling also depending on how well you’ve gained their trust. If you can get them to agree to being an other, even better. It’s harder than it sounds though.

Each Other does have a specific power that they use. Which I am still hashing out in my head.

They rarely get angry, but boy is it scary when they do.

The key only is Thomas’s interpretation of the entrance way, it can be anything to get into the Other World. It’s all up to the person in how THEY think to get in. It could be walking through two trees making a hole in them, opening a door that is only unlocked on certain days, or even just crawling under your bed. It’s up to the seeker how they wish to get in, which is why the Other World can stay in one spot, no matter the house or thing built on it.

There is no real moral code for Others, their world is very well hidden. But they are very protective of their charges when they find the right type of feed off of. Logan gets extremely possessive of Thomas when he shows up, not as in he punishes the others, but if Thomas ever thinks about leaving or tries too, Logan would lock him up until Thomas gives into despair.

If they are being unruly or try to escape, one way to get them ot agree is by isolating them, and cutting them off from happiness. Which makes kids and teens want to stay once they leave their isolation. Logan dislikes doing this, but going without a food source is rather painful, and he’d rather not put himself or his partner through that. So if he must, he will make sure the target stays. Even if it won’t be as filling as if they agreed willingly.

Also, their areas is often where their power is the strongest.

-0-0-0-0-0-

So Yeah, there it is, if you guys have any question just let me know. And this goes to @fangirltothefullest who when I mentioned this idea to her really wanted to see this. I still need more for it, but I like the concept of it, it’s much different from the books, but that’s what makes it interesting. Could easily be Angst with Happy Ending. Could even get more sinister than this. We’ll see. Might post more about this later. And fanart is well loved, I can draw, but not well enough in my mind lol.

657 notes · View notes

kingstylesdaily · 4 years ago

Text

What the 2021 Grammy Awards Will Look Like

Artists including Billie Eilish, BTS, and Taylor Swift will perform in a circle of five stages with masked crew at the center — in a ceremony that first-time showrunner Ben Winston calls “part Grammys, part Abbey Road studio session”

Ben Winston is exhausted. The television producer, who moved from the U.K. to Los Angeles six years ago to start The Late Late Show With James Corden, is a week away from executive-producing his first Grammys telecast. “I literally had two hours of sleep last night,” he tells Rolling Stone via Zoom.

On Sunday, March 7th, the Recording Academy revealed a slate of performing artists for March 14th’s 63rd Annual Grammy Awards that includes Billie Eilish, BTS, Taylor Swift, Cardi B, and Harry Styles. But while those names are on the lineup, Winston knows nothing about live TV is ever set in stone — especially in the time of a pandemic —so he’s been spending his days double- and triple-checking plans, waking up at 4:30 a.m. dry-eyed and restless. He’s worked to make a show “with heart,” he says — one that “doesn’t feel isolated, quiet, or alone.” He also had to take extra steps to ensure the three-and-a-half hour show, which will not take place at the Grammys’ usual home of the Staples Center, is Covid-safe for performers and attendees. Despite all that, he appears remarkably enthusiastic and alert.

Here’s what viewers next Sunday can expect from music’s biggest night, according to Winston: a multi-stage, audience-free show that highlights the year’s creative triumphs, social justice movements, as well as Covid-19’s impact on the arts. Winston hints at several “unbelievably powerful” performances on the slate, adding that the Grammys “absolutely are acknowledging what’s happened” in the country in the last year.

Winston, who in 2018 co-produced Bruno Mars’ well-received live show at the Apollo for CBS, also wanted to highlight independent venues, which are the “lifeblood of this industry” and a launchpad for emerging musicians — so the Grammys will feature guest spots from owners and workers of iconic American venues, including L.A.’s Troubadour and Hotel Café, N.Y.’s Apollo, and Nashville’s Station Inn. “I drive past the Troubadour on my way home from work every night,” Winston says. “It’s a significant thing for me when I look at it all boarded up. I always think, ‘When those boards come down, this will be over.’ That will be the sign. That will be the day where it’s like, ‘We got through this.'” Winston realized from his conversations with venues that many of them put on their last shows on March 14th, 2020, meaning the Grammys will mark the one-year anniversary of the shutdown.

Employees will come on camera to “tell us a little bit about their venue” and present some of the awards. “So, you’ve got, like, a bartender at a beautiful, independent venue — and she’s giving out Album of the Year to these megastars,” he explains. His goal is to acknowledge the people who work tirelessly to keep these stomping grounds afloat and have recently lost their jobs. “Those venues are made up by the bartender and the security guard, the manager, the box office person, and the cleaner at the end of the night.” He hopes to remind people of the importance of supporting local venues again when it’s safe to do so.

Originally, the Grammys were scheduled for January 31st, but organizers announced a move to March right after the new year. Winston says he felt American morale was at a low point in January — between political insurrection, an impeachment trial, and Covid-19 running rampant in Los Angeles — and it “didn’t feel right” to put the show on in the middle of that. The Recording Academy and CBS, which exclusively airs the annual show, both supported his decision to postpone. “I can now do everything that I wanted to do in my best-case scenario for this year,” he says of Sunday’s show.

Sunday’s location is an undisclosed building in Los Angeles, but Winston teases that the new venue is “massive,” “magical,” and “the biggest building I’ve ever been in indoors.” “I don’t want it to look like I’m criticizing Staples, because it’s the most amazing venue,” he emphasizes, sharing that he’s open to bringing the Grammys back to the arena in the future if they ask him to. While he does believe that Staples is a safe place, he says he wanted to go above and beyond to make even the most-skeptical participants feel undoubtedly safe.

A team of Covid safety officers oversaw the production set-up, and artists will enter the stage from different directions to minimize contact. Each artist also has their own backstage area. The space “allowed us to build an entire world,” he says.

The show will involve five stages of the same size and shape, four of which are for performances and one of which is for presenters. Stages are organized in a circle, facing one another, and crew members will work from the middle of the set. “People will perform while the other three or four artists on their stages watch, applaud, and enjoy. As soon as that one finishes, the next one goes, the next one goes, and the next one goes. Every 45 minutes, you change out those stages, and you bring another four megastars into the room,” says Winston, who was partly inspired for the “part-Grammys, part-Abbey Road studio session” setup by British shows he watched as a child, including Jools Holland and TFI Friday.

It’s going to be a “bespoke night of music that I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to repeat,” Winston says. “It’s about taking a camera into a room, and making an amazing musical moment by filming it quite simply and elegantly.” Performances, which started being planned in April 2020, will be a mix of live and pre-recorded — a fully live show would involve too many crew members moving sets and risking close contact — but the whole thing is intended to feel completely live. (Winston challenges viewers to try and guess which sets are pre-recorded; he designed them to be difficult to tell.)

To help plan the sprawling, immersive show, Winston brought in a suite of collaborators including co-executive producer Jesse Collins, who produced The Weeknd’s Super Bowl halftime show; co-executive producer Raj Kapoor, who handled creative direction for various artists on the last seven Grammys and produced Vegas residencies for the likes of the Backstreet Boys and Mariah Carey; producer Fatima Robinson, whose expansive background in creative direction and choreography landed her the Black Eyed Peas’ 2011 halftime show and Kendrick Lamar’s 2016 Grammy performance; producer Misty Buckley, who handled production design for Kacey Musgraves’ 2020 Christmas show; talent executive Patrick Menton from Dick Clark Productions; Corden collaborator Josie Cliff; and Super Bowl halftime, Olympic ceremony, Oscars, and Emmys director Hamish Hamilton, who Winston describes as a “legend” he’s admired since he was 14 years old. (David Wild, who has written for the Grammys since 2001 and became a producer in 2016, is the only person returning to his role.) Winston also points out that artists were heavily involved in designing their own performances.

Rather than have cameras pan over empty seats and an awkwardly small stage, the production team decided to reinvent the visual format with the five-stage setup. The pandemic’s limitations, coupled with the advantages of new faces coming in with fresh perspectives, helped them refrain from thinking in terms of what the Grammys had done before, he said.

For the most part, Covid-19 didn’t force too many changes. It did give Winston a lot of anxiety.

“There’s been so much uncertainty with what you’re allowed to do,” he says. Changing international quarantine rules made him question whether certain performers could fly in, while health guidance keeps fluctuating: “Every time my computer or phone dings, my first instinct is, ‘Oh, God, what’s gone wrong?’ I don’t know if that’s ever been my mentality before.”

While all the performers are confirmed and currently Covid-free, “you never know, one of their girlfriends could have Covid and have to quarantine, it’s all just bonkers,” Winston says. “There’s one artist that may, in the end, not be able to make it here due to rules of the country they’re currently in. There’s one immigration issue that we’ve got left.”

The show does not have replacements on hand if anyone pulls out — it’ll just cut that performance out.

Above all, Winston wants the 2021 Grammys to focus attention off of dire times. “I want people to be able to watch the 2021 Grammys in 2040 and go, ‘Wow, what an amazing show that was,’ and not go, ‘Oh, that was the Covid year, that’s why they had to do that,'” he says. “I think that’s what we could achieve if we get it right on Sunday.”

via RollingStone.com

#kingstylesdaily #Harry Styles #hs: grammys 2021 #March 2021

127 notes · View notes

patt-writes-stuff · 4 years ago

Text

Pink (Hawks x gn!Reader)

Pairing: Hawks/Takami Keigo x gn! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: cursing but that’s about it!

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, Romantic/Relationship

Tags/Aus: boss x secretary, pining, slow burn, slight cannon divergence probably

Summary: 5 times your boss, Hawks, made you flustered + the one time you made him flustered

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! This is my fic for the Attack on Academia server’s Secret Santa Event!! This is for @sugacookiies !! and I really hope you like it!!!

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

“Thank you so much for coming today, we’ll be sure to get back to you soon,” the lady who had been interviewing you said, smiling at you. You bowed your head slightly, thanking her for her time with a small smile on your face.

After exiting the room and closing the door, you took a deep breath, as if to calm your still very present nerves. You had been up for a job as a secretary at pro hero Hawk’s agency, something you were more than thrilled about.

Growing up, you’d always been immensely intrigued with the world of pro heroes. Your room had been decked out in hero figurines and posters, the whole nine yards. Hell, even your comforter was hero themed at a certain point in time. It had just always fascinated you how these people would use their quirks for the good of humanity and to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Sadly, your quirk, MoodLocks, wasn’t very useful in crime-fighting. All it did was allow your hair to change colors depending on your mood. It was pretty, of course, but you had a hard time controlling it and it could never help you beat an opponent. If anything, it would give the villain an insight into your thoughts and put you at a clear disadvantage.

So, as time passed, your childish fantasies of becoming a hero did as well. It didn’t bother you anymore, as you were more than happy with the career you’d chosen. Your love of heroes was still very much present, hence why you were so nervous about today’s interview. If you got the job, not only would the pay be incredible, but you’d also get the chance to help an actual hero. Maybe you’d even get the chance to meet more of them!

You were pretty sure you had made a fairly good impression so hopefully, you would indeed get a call from the agency soon.

Walking out of the agency, you couldn’t help but let out a yawn. You’d stayed up far too late last night googling commonly asked job interview questions so you wanted nothing more than to get back to your apartment and catch up on some much-needed rest. Maybe you and your roommate could order in.

“Oh God, I am so sorry that was my fault. I just finished this super stressful interview and I’m super tired so I was not watching where I was going-” your babbling came to a sudden halt as you looked up, brain losing all ability to form coherent thoughts.

Right before your very eyes was the man who’s “a bit too fast” in all his red-winged glory. You’d seen him in interviews online, of course, you kept up with most pro hero interviews, so you knew he was handsome. However, the cameras most certainly did not do the man justice. His yellow glasses were resting on his forehead, pushing his messy (and very soft looking) blond hair back. His gold eyes seemed to be looking right into your soul, calculating yet calm.

God, you wished you could make your eyeliner look remotely similar to his.

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you realized that you’d been staring for what you could only describe as an uncomfortably long amount of time.

Before you could embarrass yourself further, the winged hero placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. He looked at the top of your head, an intrigued expression adorning his face before morphing into an easy smile, he spoke, “‘S no problem, chickadee. Good luck with your interview.”

And just like that, the hero went along his merry way.

Curious what he’d been staring at, not to mention the nickname, you looked up at your hair, which had previously been a bright shade of orange due to being anxious, was now very pink. You blanched at the thought of having lost control of your quirk so easily, in front of a cute guy pro hero who might be your future boss no less.

‘Well,’ you thought, ‘at least I can say I met Japan’s #2 hero even if I don’t get this job.’

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 2

Much to your surprise, and pleasure, you had indeed received a call from Hawks’ agency about a week later. After several follow up interviews (much more than you were expecting, honestly, but you suppose it made since he’s such a high ranking hero) a very thorough background check, you had gotten the job.

When you had gotten the job, you had been hoping that the blond would have forgotten your first encounter, since you had literally malfunctioned right before his very eyes. The chances of him forgetting weren’t exactly small, after all. You were sure he met plenty of people every day and your interaction had been incredibly brief.

A month into your job as his secretary, you seemed to be in the clear. Sure, he knew about your quirk, since he was your employer and the ever-changing array of colors in your hair aren’t exactly subtle, but seeing as he hadn’t mentioned it so he’d probably forgotten.

You’d stayed at the agency long after your shift was overdue to a couple of low-ranking villains attempting to rob a bank. It had been an easy win for Hawks, he was in and out of there long before his sidekicks had even gotten there, but the villains had caused a lot of unnecessary damage to the building, so there was a ridiculous amount of paperwork.

You couldn’t wait to get home and change out of your stuffy work clothes and into the comfiest pair of PJs you owned. Your roommate, always a sweetheart, had been kind enough to save you some leftovers from her dinner so all you had to do was warm it up, eat, shower, and crash on your bed.

Whilst you were getting ready to head home, your boss had decided that it was only fair to walk you home, seeing as it was late. You had insisted that he didn’t need to do that, even showing him the can of pepper spray you carried around your person at all times. Still, he’d insisted, and who were you to say no?

The winged hero had originally offered to fly you home, but you’d profusely told him it wasn’t necessary. So, the two of you ended up taking the train. The two of you got a couple of weird stares from your fellow passengers, seeing as the flying hero was taking a train instead of y’know… flying and his wings took a significantly large part of the seat the two of you were occupying (it seemed uncomfortable but he didn’t mention it). Hawks seemed to either not notice or not care, opting instead to have an animated conversation with you about the best fried chicken places in Fukuoka. It was mostly him talking, but you’d add to the conversation every once in a while, and sometimes people would interrupt and ask for an autograph, which he’d sign with a carefree smile on his face.

“You don’t have to walk me home, sir,” you told him after the two of you had exited the station closest to your apartment.

“What kind of hero would I be if I let a civilian walk alone across the dark streets of Japan?” He asked you, tone light and teasing. “Also, didn’t I tell you to call me Hawks? Sir makes me feel old.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his words, turning to the left towards your apartment. You’d get there soon and a small part of you wanted to keep the banter going for as long as possible.

“I don’t think that would be very professional of me, sir,” you said playfully. He laughed and the two of you settled into a comfortable silence while you walked.

After a moment, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and he spoke up, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how exactly does your quirk work?”

“Oh well, y’know, it changes color depending on my mood, so red means I’m angry, blue can mean I’m sad or calm, pink means I’m flustered or embarrassed, purple means I’m scared, etc.”

“So your hair went pink the first time we met because you were starstruck by my devilishly good looks?” He asked in a faux haughty tone. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

The asshole remembered your first encounter.

Your hair turned pink and you celebrated inwardly as you approached your apartment. As you opened the glass door to the complex, Hawks laughed at your hurry.

“Good night,” you stated, tone indignant at his laughter, as you made your way inside.”

“‘Night, Pinky.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 3

Working for the red-winged hero himself was both everything you were expecting it to be and completely the opposite of it at the same time.

The hours were crazy, something you were anticipating considering villain activity had been increasing and your boss was a busy public figure. What you were certainly not anticipating, however, was that Hawks would be such a teasing little shit.

Not only had the man remembered your first encounter, but after you had explained your quirk to him (he’d asked you about it despite it being in the agency’s records since you had applied for the position, you guessed he’d done it as a way to break the ice) he’d taken it upon himself to fluster you to get your hair to go that embarrassingly bright shade of pink.

He’d call you all sorts of nicknames ranging from pinky to songbird (your favorite was by far Pinky since it feels so personal. Not that you’d ever tell him that). He’d also gotten into the habit of trying out all sorts of ridiculous pick up lines on you. The greater majority of them were bird-related, of course. Those never really got you but they did make you laugh.

The one that probably got you the most was when he’d bring you your favorite drink or lunch from a place you’d mentioned you’d like offhandedly, saying he had just been “flying by” and remembered your conversation.

You didn’t mind his flirtatious banter in the slightest. He never crossed any boundaries and kept things professional when it came to business. It was pretty fun to see what nicknames or pickup lines he had up his sleeves.

The only downside was that you’d begun to develop a slight crush on the red-winged hero. It would never lead to anything, you were well aware of that. He was not only a famous hero who was constantly under public scrutiny, but he was also your boss.

It can’t hurt to dream though.

“What’s got you so distracted?” An all too familiar broke your very him-centric train of thought. You looked up from the paperwork you’d been blankly staring at. You’d been trying to multitask between eating and doing paperwork so you wouldn’t have to take any work home. After much insistence from your roommate, who was well aware of your crush on Your boss (she’d teasingly gifted you a pair of Hawks themed PJs on your birthday), you had finally given in and agreed to let her set you up on a date with a former schoolmate of hers.

“Nothing, just thinking about a date I have tonight,” you lied, looking up from your desk to meet those lovely honey-colored eyes you spent more hours than you’d care to admit thinking about. You scanned his body language, trying to gauge his reaction. Not that you could ever get a read on him. More often than not, it was impossible to get a read on him under the visage of carefree indifference he was so well known for. In the almost half a year you’d known him you’d never once seen the hero lose his cool or show any emotion other than the ones he wanted to portray. It was kind of unfair seeing as he could get a picture-perfect look into your thoughts and emotions just by looking at the color of your hair and here you were, left grasping at straws.

He seemed to have no outward reaction other than his shoulders tensing and his eyebrows scrunching up a bit in mild distaste. It was gone so fast you were sure you must have just imagined it.

“Pinky’s got themselves a date?” he said after a moment, a slightly forced teasing tilt to his voice. He crossed his hands and placed them on the taller part of your desk and leaned his weight on them, staring down at you with a cheeky grin.

“I guess so,” you said, fiddling with your chopsticks as you continued, “I’m kind of nervous though. I haven’t got on any dates since I started working here, I’m a little rusty.”

“How come you haven’t gone on any dates?” he asked, staring at you with an intensity you weren’t quite expecting from him. “Had a special someone in mind?”

The roots of your hair went white in surprise before you managed to school them into going back to your natural hair color. It was brief but he had surely noticed.

“I’d go on lots of dates if my boss gave me more days off,” you said, pushing past the momentary lull in the conversation and giving him a pointed look.

He let out a laugh, a real and genuine one, unlike the ones he’d let out during interviews or out in public. The thought made your face heat up. It made you feel special. Even if he didn’t see you in the same way you saw him, he at least trusted you enough to be real around you. That was enough for you.

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about, kid, any person would be lucky to land a date with someone as beautiful as you,” He stated, looking at you with a certain emotion behind his gaze that you couldn’t quite decipher. “If your date happens to go south, just give me a call and I’ll pick you up. After all, what kind of hero would I be if I didn’t look out for my secretary?”

You looked at his retreating form, your hair as pink as bubble gum and heart threatening to beat out of your rib cage. He’d just called you beautiful. He’d also said that anyone would be lucky to date you. Did that include him? Did he like you?

“Hey Hawks,” you called out, surprising both him and yourself. Despite him telling you to just call him Hawks instead of ‘sir’, you’d stuck to calling him sir for the sake of professionality. “Thanks for the offer.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 4

You let out a tired sigh as you watched the number of floors go up on the tiny screen atop the doors of the elevator you were currently in.

When you had signed your contract to work at Hawks’ agency, you were aware that you would need to be accessible 24/7, however, you thought that if he did contact you at an ungodly hour, it’d be for something important, perhaps something along the lines of a press scandal or a massive villain attack that you’d need to start filing paperwork promptly so that the agency could report the casualties or cost of the destruction. You had highly doubted Hawks, Japan’s literal #2 hero would call his secretary at 3:00 a.m. in the goddamn morning and order them to bring him a bucket of fried chicken from fucking KFC.

You clearly hadn’t known the man at the time, you thought as you stared at the red and white bucket in your arms.

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you had arrived at your destination. Making your way through the hallway, you tried to figure out why your boss would be so cruel as to make you get him fast food when he had two perfectly capable wings that could take him to and from the nearest KFC faster than you ever could. You bet it’d even be warmer.

You’d need to download UberEats on his phone.

Before your fist could make contact with the door, it was swung open, surprising your half-asleep brain. Before your eyes there was a very awake looking Hawks, his eyes zeroed in on the bucket you were holding

“Hey there, chickadee,” he said in a teasing tone, resting his arm on the door frame in a very attractive manner. God, if you were just a bit more coherent and a little less sleep-deprived, your hair would be the most embarrassingly bright pink color imaginable.

Thankfully, you weren’t and you could hear your bed calling your name from across the city, so without bothering to answer, you shoved the bucket of chicken into his arms before turning around to speed your way back to your at this point cold bed.

Before you could get very far, however, Hawks had grabbed your wrist with your free hand.

“You’re not leaving already, are you?” He asked you, letting go of your wrist.

“It’s 3 in the goddamn morning, Hawks,” was your deadpan answer.

“C’mon, you wouldn’t let your poor boss eat all alone would you,” you could tell his tone was meant to be light and playful but it was lacking his usual flare.

Your concern for the overgrown pigeon won out, and with a defeated sigh, you walked into his apartment, Hawks trailing behind you, visibly pleased that you stayed.

Despite all your time working for Hawks, you’d never actually been inside of his apartment. You had come here several times before to drop off documents he needed to sign or a new schedule (because the Hero Commission apparently couldn’t send emails directly to him) but you had always left the things at his building's front desk.

Hawks’ apartment was… emptier than you had expected it to be. It was nice, the furniture was obviously high quality, not that it was surprising considering he was a high ranking hero, but it lacked a personal touch. It had no pictures or knick-knacks in sight. It felt more like a house instead of an actual home.

“So, how’d your date go?” Hawks inquired once the two of you settled in his living room, him on the couch and you in the armchair next to it. He picked up a piece of chicken, offering it to you. However, it was far too early to even think about consuming food, so you politely declined.

“It was fine. He was nice,” you answered.

To be honest the date had gone well. He’d been nice, a complete gentleman. He’d taken you to a nice restaurant, he was great in conversation, he’d even walked you home but at the end of the night, the two of you had agreed that there was just no chemistry between the two of you whatsoever. You had decided to just stay friends.

“There won’t be a second one, though,” you added after a beat of silence.

“Good,” your eyes widened at his words and suddenly you had an epiphany.

Hawks had been jealous. He was jealous because he liked you. That’s why he had asked you to come here.

Before you could voice your thoughts, he spoke again, a sly smirk on his face, “By the way, I love your pajamas. I wasn’t aware you were such a fan.”

Your hair turned pink, as it often did whenever Hawks was around when you looked down at your clothes. In your haste to get Hawks his food so you could go back to bed, you had forgone changing clothes. You hadn’t realized you were wearing the Hawks themed PJs your roommate had gotten you as a gag gift. They were mustard-colored with lots of cute red feathers and tiny Hawks chibi heads scattered around the fabric.

He would never let you live this down.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 5

Following the KFC event, the two of you hadn’t spoken about the situation further. At this point, you were well aware of his feelings for you, and you hadn’t exactly been subtle about liking him. The two of you just hadn’t spoken about it. You weren’t official but there was an unspoken rule that neither of you would go on dates with other people.

You were fine with it. Really, you were.

Except that you were definitely not okay with it and you were very much upset that he had just answered that he was single when the lady that had interviewed him had asked him if he was seeing anyone.

Rationally, you understood why he said no. You weren’t official and saying yes would just throw the media into a frenzy while they speculated who he was seeing. You remember how crazy everyone went a couple of months ago when pictures of Mirko and Hawks in their street clothes hanging out started circulating on Twitter. They were trending for weeks, and you had had to answer call after call, explaining that no, they are not dating and no, they don’t have time to go on the 8:00 a.m. news to answer questions about what it was like to date as pro heroes.

On the other hand, you were tired of dancing around each other. You were aware that dating a pro hero would come with hectic schedules and even some danger, but you didn’t care.

“So I was thinking you could come over and we can watch that hero documentary you told me to watch- hey are you mad at me?” Hawks asked, brows furrowed as in confusion.

“No, I’m not angry at you,” you answered, putting your stuff away and heading to the agency’s doors. You were more than ready to go back to your apartment and there was a pint of your favorite ice cream waiting for you in the freezer with your name on it.

“You totally are,” he scoffed, following after you.

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.”

“Yes, you are.” Your overgrown pigeon of a boss insisted, mimicking your tone, “If you’re not angry then why is your hair red?”

With a sigh, you spoke, failing to hide the snarky tone to your voice “So what if I am angry? Why do you care? It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” You walked out onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, that’s what you're upset about?” He asked, realization dawning upon his features. When you didn’t answer he kept talking, “You of all people know why I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. It’s just- nothing, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You told him, looking away with a defeated sigh.

You were about to walk away before he stopped you by placing his glove cladded hand

“At least let me take you home,” it wasn’t much of a question, but you nodded anyways.

All of a sudden, you let out a shrill scream when he picked you up bridal style, hands instinctively clasping on to his coat to assure you wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he explained as if it were obvious. Before you had a chance to argue he set off into the sky.

You couldn’t hear anything but the wind in your ears and his heartbeat, but you finally understood why he loved flying so much. Exhilarating was the only word you could use to describe it. And cold. It was also really cold. You understood why he walked around with such a heavy coat now. You snuggled more into him, trying to get some more warmth, which caused Hawks to tighten his hold on you. The affectionate gesture alone had your hair going a shade of pink.

You got to your apartment building much faster than you ever would by taking the train, something that you regretted a bit since it meant he’d let go of you.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, “maybe we should-“

“Keigo,” he said, effectively cutting you off,

“W-what?” You spluttered, caught off guard.

“I want you to call me Keigo,” he said with a sense of finality, looking into your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t quite read, or at least one that you were just choosing to ignore. It’d just make what you were about to suggest harder.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, opening the door that led to the stairs, “I really like you, hell, maybe even more than that, and I want to be with you but I don’t want to be whatever we are right now forever.”

Ignoring the way his wings physically dropped at your words, you closed the door behind you and headed to your apartment.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

Once you got home, you immediately stripped out of your work clothes and into your Hawks-themed pajamas (because they're the comfiest, not because they remind you of him, obviously) and you’d taken out your ice cream and went to town on it. Your roommate had noticed the dark blue that had taken over your hair but you’d brushed her off, saying it was nothing to worry about. She’d been doubtful, but she had a night shift so she left, but not before making you promise to call her if you needed to.

You’d spent the rest of the evening eating your ice cream and watching tv before deciding to get some sleep so you would feel at least a little less sorry for yourself tomorrow.

You were currently in your room, scrolling through your phone on your bed before calling it a day when you started to hear a tapping sound. You’d ruled it out to be some tree branch knocking against your window due to the wind. However, the longer you ignored it the more incessant it became.

You nearly fell out of your bed when you realized it was Hawks, your boss, the #2 pro hero of Japan, tapping on your window while squatting on your fire escape.

You got up, heading towards your window and unlocking it before pushing it up. You helped him in before sitting down on the bed and motioning for him to do the same. An awkward silence filled the air, neither of you was quite sure of what you should say.

“Hawks, what are-“ you started before being cut off by him.

“Look, Pinky, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me,” he declared. Your hair went the brightest shade of pink it had ever been at his words.

He played with the embroidered design of the throw blanket you kept in your bed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the red-winged hero so vulnerable in all your time knowing him.

“But there’s a lot of crap that comes with my job and I could never forgive myself if I brought you into it and you got hurt. So-“ before he could finish speaking, you grabbed onto his coat’s collar with both of your hands and crashed your lips against his.

You’d waited almost an entire year for this. One thing was for certain, it was well worth the wait. You loved every single thing about him. And he loved you. That was all you needed.

After a beat, you pulled away, choosing instead to cup his cheek in an adoring manner. The two of you looked at each other with nothing short of pure unadulterated adoration.

“I love you Keigo,” you spoke his name for the first time, “as long as you’re by my side I don’t care about what happens.”

His reaction was, for lack of a better word, cute. His honey eyes were wide in shock, his face as red as his wings, and his aforementioned wings were puffed up in shock. Now you understood why he loved teasing you so much.

“So, do you wanna watch the documentary?” You asked him, walking out of your room and into the living room with a victorious smirk.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #takami x reader #hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #secret santa fic #patt’s creations

230 notes · View notes