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inneedofsupervision · 5 months ago

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This Thing about Blankets and Second Chances

Summary: Peter gets sick and looks for help at the tower as Aunt May is out of town. Instead of Mr. Stark, only Sam and Bucky are there, and they nurse him back to health, but for some reason, the kid begins acting out of character.

(Read on Ao3)

(Maybe u can guess which prompt this was supposed to be lmao)

"Stark, your intern is the spawn of Satan. He was difficult being sick, but now that he's better, he's the worst."

Tony's amused laugh echoes through the speaker.

Sam's following words sound almost pleading.

"Why is he being so stubborn, Tony? He had been freakishly nice and agreeable before. What did you put into his head?" If the man thought his words were contradicting, hell, they probably contradicted, but Sam couldn't care less.

He needs Stark to listen.

"Eyes on the screen, Feathers, I don't want to talk to your ear. Yeah, that looks almost better."

The man in question looks calm. Too calm, sitting back in the seat of his jet, the first button of his dress shirt opened. Tony takes a sip out of a cheap Iron Man mug. It must have been a present, or it wouldn't find itself anywhere close to the man.

"I didn't do anything," begins Tony, pointedly ignoring the glare. "We just talked, checking that the kid didn't sneak into the lab unsupervised when he's not on top of his game."

"And why does he act like none of what we say matters after being on the phone with you? A few weeks ago, he wouldn't look Bucky in the eye, and now he doesn't move, doing the whole grumpy teenager act."

"I might be the smartest person in this merry band we call a team, but I cannot even cut open his teenage head to get on why the kid does what he does. Call it one of the mysteries of childhood."

It has to be a conspiracy. There is no other explanation for whatever this is. Sam glares at the smug grin on Stark's face. It was like the man's eyes were mocking him.

"See what I have to deal with all the time? Get a taste of your own."

"How do I get him to stop? I don't care if it's the holidays or not. He cannot sleep the whole day. Bucky was about to throw a water bucket at him after pulling him by his ankle but did nothing, and the brat just shot his webbing at him."

Tony takes another sip of coffee, but it's too late. Sam had seen the poorly hidden twitch of the corner of his mouth as he barely suppressed bark-out-loud laughter. Sam takes a deep breath.

"Stark," he begins. He makes sure to talk slowly, like he would to a four-year-old child and not a self-proclaimed billionaire-genius-whatsoever.

"That kid. He wears his webshooters. To bed."

"Oh, does he?" The man doesn't even pretend to be surprised.

"That means he likely didn't get to sleep at all."

Sam's eyelid twitches.

"What?"

Tony takes a glass of water from the tablet held out to him.

"Thanks, Marcy."

He checks his wristwatch, eyebrow rising before glancing back towards the screen.

"He patrolled until 5:43 am. It's the weekend. Let the kid live a little."

When the kid came in asking for Mr. Stark while hacking up a lung, Sam thought it would end with them calling Happy and getting the sick teen chauffeured to his aunt.

"Aunt May is in Malaysia. For the rest of the month. Could I have some water, please?"

Even Bucky's face twisted as he awkwardly rubbed the teen's back, who mumbled the words between dry heaving in the bathroom. It hadn't been pretty. They got Dr. Cho to check him only to tell them that the freaky spider-metabolism lets the kid speedrun through a mean case of the flu. They had contacted Stark, and the man had been adamant at first to fly back instantly, but Pepper had asked them to give her and Tony a minute. The man later said he could not make it and basically threatened them to take care of his mentee. Sam wonders at what point in life he ended up babysitting an enhanced teenager while his mentor was away on some rich people trip.

"Did you forget the part where I told you he had been in bed and sick for the past few days?"

He wipes a hand over his face.

He's too old for this.

Sam also couldn't understand how Stark, out of all people, refrained from going into helicopter parent mode, being hundreds of miles away from his kid and said kid fighting a cold. He had seen the man freak out over papercuts before.

"Don't be rough on him, Wilson, he's sixteen. The kid just crawled out of the crib and took his first steps. Be a little understanding. You won't get him out of bed treating my penthouse like a military camp for troubled youths."

Be a little understanding.

Sam thought he was trippin' hearing these words from no other than Tony Stark, the most eccentric and selfish person going by the man living in a Tower with his name planted on the side.

"That's because you coddle him too much!"

Tony sniffs slightly.

"Are you suggesting I am not taking your call seriously? Because you would be very much right about it."

"Stark-"

Tony glances over his shoulder, a grin breaking over his face before he turns back towards the screen.

"The missus is calling. I will check in later, having a firm chat with the human incarceration of teen rebellion. Don't worry, I'll set the itty bitty troublemaker straight."

"Tony-"

"Don't worry, we will have a stern talking."

There is a twinkle in the man's eyes.

The screen goes dark.

Sam curses.

_________________________________

"The video of Barnes patting the kid's back until he falls asleep like a toddler? I saved, archived, and showed it to my wife. She loves it. It's very domestic and very unlike Barnes. The perfect blackmail material." Clint lolls on the couch, a hand behind his head, eyes gleaming with delight.

"What do you need help with now? If it's about cough-sirup, just put it in some juice and say the weird taste comes with the congested nose. Works like a charm."

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose.

"He's fine now, Clint. Completely back to health."

The archer draws an eyebrow up.

"What's wrong then?"

"He won't get out of bed."

"He won't get out of bed," repeats the other man, lips quirking in unconcealed amusement.

"It doesn't matter what Bucky and I are saying or doing. He stays in bed and demands to sleep. Stark said he was patrolling, so he's bound to be tired. But he cannot sleep the whole day. If he does, he will be awake all night, and I will not deal with the outcome."

"Did anyone tell you you're a hypocrite?"

Sam ignores the jab and walks back to Bucky, who is behind the stove, a concerningly high staple of pancakes next to him that's still growing. Clint follows, leaning on his arms and watching them from across the counter.

"Let me get this straight. The kid comes in on Thursday being all sick and pitiful, and you two," he points at them to clarify he wasn't talking about another duo at the tower housing superheroes, "took care of him. And the kid had been his awkwardly polite self, trying to play it down to not inconvenience you like the self-deprecating little bug he is?"

A hand sneaks towards the pancakes.

"Exactly."

"And now that you two nursed him back to health, he doesn't do what you tell him to? Acting like a tired teenager, whining about being sleepy, going on about the bed being the most amazing place on earth, and not caring what you want?"

"Ouch!" Clint glares at Bucky, who unapologetically pulls the pancakes out of reach, spatula ready for another hit.

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Sometimes I forget you are a father. That's what happened. Any idea how to get him to crawl out of that blanket cocoon?"

The blond straightens up, wiping the grease off his hands with a kitchen towel. Laugh lines are decorating his face.

"No. I have no idea. Good luck, you two."

It caught Bucky's attention, looking up from where he poured another portion of batter into the sizzling pan.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I am sure you two can handle this just fine," answers Clint. He grimaces slightly as his shoulder makes a popping sound while stretching, uttering something about not having enough training before giving the two a small salute.

"See you around. Tell the Spider-Kid I said hi."

"You can tell him yourself," shouts Sam after the blond, who turns around, a big grin on his face.

"I wouldn't want to wake him. He's a growing boy. He needs his "Z's".

Bucky shakes his hand. He's elbowing Sam slightly in the side.

"Let's try talking to him again."

The man pulls the pan off the heat and glances at the clock.

Barton is right. Bucky has become incredibly domestic. Sam observes how the other put the pancakes in the oven to keep them warm. They make their way over to the hallway, determined to end this. It is bad enough that two of their friends got a kick out of it, seeing how they get messed with by a baby-faced teen, leaving them alone to deal with the little devil.

"What about your medicine? Have you taken it?"

Bucky's hands stopped before his knuckles could knock on the door to the teen's room. They hear the shuffling of bedsheets before Peter's voice comes through muted.

"I kinda run out of it?"

"Peter Benjamin Parker, why didn't you say anything?" asks the woman on the other line, sounding exhausted, implying that this must be a topic of many conversations but not without a hint of amusement.

"I honestly forgot, but I haven't been sick in months. I was about to tell Mr. Stark, but with Decathlon and the updates for the suit, it slipped my mind. But I'm completely fine now, I swear!"

"Maybe I should ask Tony if you could stay at the Tower."

A low whining sound emits from behind the door, something they have never heard from the kid before. It was like hearing the personified essence of a protesting teenager. "I can take care of myself, Aunt May. I'm sixteen! I came to the tower when I felt unwell. I even asked for help!"

"And that's the barest minimum of what I expect you to do when you get sick, Peter. Is Tony around? Could you hand him the phone?"

"Sorry, May, he's not here. He's at a conference in France."

There's a short pause from both sides.

"Who took care of you then?"

"Oh right, I haven't told you that. It's just wild! Do you remember Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes?"

"You have mentioned them, yes."

Both men cannot help but grimace at the wary tone. They wonder what the kid has told his aunt about them to cause that reaction. Peter seems unaware of the distaste in his aunt's voice as he cheerily continues chatting away.

"So, I came to the tower feeling kind of under the weather and asked for Mr. Stark, but there were only Mr. Barnes and Mr. Wilson, who told me Mr. Stark wasn't there. I wanted to call you, but suddenly, I got incredibly queasy, and I ran to the bathroom and lost my lunch. I was so embarrassed getting sick in front of them, but Aunt May. Both of them were super nice about it. Especially Mr. Wilson seemed genuinely worried. They got Dr. Cho to come to the penthouse and look at me. She gave me some medicine against the flu, and it didn't take two days until I was completely better. Oh, and Mr. Barnes even cooked me chicken-and-noddle soup! It was nothing like the soup you make me."

"You know perfectly well that my soup comes out of the can, mister."

"Oops," is all the kid says, the grin carrying over in his voice.

"I'm glad to know Tony has to deal with that side of you too. Everyone should know that my nephew is part-time Spider-Man and part-time gremlin."

The kid honest-to-good cackles, not sounding any bit remorseful.

"But Peter, if those two stop being good to you, promise to let me or Tony know. I feel uncomfortable with you being around someone who had been that indifferent before."

"Don't worry, May. I think both sides needed some time to warm up to each other. I will let one of you know if something happens. I feel way more comfortable around them now, knowing they care, you know? I think it's genuine."

"I'm glad you think so, darling. I wish I could be there for you. Call me if something happens, alright?"

"Will do. Love you."

"Love you too, baby. Let me know when Tony's back."

"Yeah. See you soon, May."

"Take care of yourself. See you, Peter."

There is some shuffling before silence settles behind the closed door. The men share a look before Bucky knocks softly against the wood.

"Come in."

Sam raises an eyebrow. It was like they had never left. The kid is still rolled up tightly in the blanket, only a mob of brown hair peeking out between the gray line sheets.

"Friday, what time is it."

"It's 13:37, Mr. Wilson."

"And at what time do teens usually get up at the weekend?"

"According to the latest statistics, teenagers from 12 to 17 years old get up between 9:00 and 11:00 am."

"See, even the super-computer agrees with us, kid. It's time to get up, so move your butt."

The cocoon shifts slightly. A pair of brown, very awake eyes peek out of the opening, squinting at them.

"Friday is an AI, not a super-computer."

"Okay. Alright. The AI said your usual teen should get up between 9:00 and 11:00, and you have already taken it much further than that."

"Well, I'm not your usual teen," comes the quip, as if the kid had waited for it.

"No, you're not. A little shit is what you're are," presses Sam out, muttering to himself as he runs a hand over his head, wondering why he's even arguing about this.

A sound catches his attention.

Glancing at Bucky, seeing the man raising an eyebrow, he knew the other had heard it too.

A giggle.

Soft and breathy, muffled by pressing his face into the blanket, but it had been there, undeniably.

Now it's official.

The kid's messing with them.

Bucky seems to think the same.

"Hey! What are you doing? Let me down!"

In one swift motion, the blanket roll of a teen is scoped from the bed and thrown over a broad shoulder. Curly strands of hair bounce up and down with every step that the teen gets carried further away from his bed, wriggling and protesting on the way. Sam follows with a smirk, having to hand it to the ex-assassin. With the teen tightly wrapped up, he couldn't do much but fight against being picked up and carried like an angry caterpillar. Bucky got a firm grip around the kid's middle, preventing him from getting his arms out of the makeshift cocoon, which turned into a silky spider trap.

Their destination is the living room, where Bucky drops the living cargo on a couch.

"Friday, lock the kid's room until he ate something and washed up."

"I'm pretty sure it's a criminal offense to lock someone out of their room," protests Peter, who robs forward until he is on height with a pillow. Sam squints his eyes at him when the teen snuggles into the couch, eyes closing again.

"Oh no. We didn't bring you here for you to pass out on the couch. Get up, kid."

"Can't hear you am sleeping," mumbled the teen and dared to let out a giant yawn before wriggling, turning his back towards the stunned adults.

The nerves of that kid.

"That's it. I'm calling Tony. You see what you can do."

Sam leaves the room, ready to give the billionaire a piece of his mind, leaving Bucky alone with their troublemaker.

Peter listens, waiting for what the other man would do now. He can hear Bucky's calm heartbeat, his body tensing slightly when steps approach.

"You know," begins the older man, surprising Peter by lifting the blanket alongside his legs to sit down and let his limps fall on his lap."back then, when Steve was younger, he had been a handful. We have lived close to each other. When one of our parents was away, we'd sleep over at the other's house. Then I learned that my best friend could be the grumpiest little punk being tired. And getting sick quickly, he'd been tired often. The surprise when I came back, and suddenly the skinny kid who asked to pick a fight is now getting on everyone's nerves by getting up at 5:00 am and asking people if they wanna 'round the park with him."

"What did you do then?"

"When that punk didn't want to get up?"

"Yeah."

Bucky smirks at the curiosity in the teen's voice.

"I taught him a lesson."

Peter's eyes shoot wide open as something heavy gets thrown over the blanket cocoon, successfully pinning his legs.

"He would hold on to his blanket, refusing to let it go. But there are ways to make him crawl out of that hideout."

While speaking, Bucky shoves a hand into the opening of the blanket roll. His arm vanishes halfway until he finds what he's searching for and begins to pull.

"No!"

The man smirked as he pulled at the teen's ankle until a pair of pale feet stuck out of the cocoon, legs wriggling in an attempt to shuffle back into the safety of the blanket. By pulling at the teen's legs and the latter being too stubborn to let go of the blanket, Peter got pulled into the depth of the blanket-cocoon, the only visible part of the teen his kicking limps.

"No? I thought you were curious?" teases Bucky as he fights to get the kicking feet into a headlock.

"I didn't ask for a demonstration!" comes the muffled protest, followed by a squeak when one of Bucky's fingers accidentally runs over his sole.

"Should have specified what you wanted then," replies the older, glancing down at the successfully caught feet in his grip. Thanks to the unfavorable position of Peter laying on his stomach, having wrapped the blanket tighter than ever around himself during his wriggling, and Bucky throwing one leg over the teen, he has a remarkably secure hold of his legs. Despite his head deep inside the blanket, Bucky's words are loud and clear, sparking a sense of nervousness inside him. Even though his spidey sense doesn't act out, Peter can feel something nearing his vulnerable feet.

"You know what Steve still can't stand?"

Instead of an answer, a high-pitched, muffled screech ejects from within the blanket, followed by frantic wriggling and choked laughter as Bucky begins to worm a finger between the kid's toes, feather-lightly scratching at the skin. A grin forms on the man's face at the very familiar reaction. There hadn't been a second of the day where Peter regretted burying himself in his blanket. Surrounded by the cozy warmth and the familiar scent of fabric softener, there wasn't a place he'd rather be. Not even once, did Peter imagine that his favorite blanket would become his downfall. His wonderful, beloved blanket has revealed itself to be a wicked spider-trap. It's almost scary how a blanket, physics, and one super soldier are enough to leave him flopping around helplessly on the couch like a fish out of water. Under other circumstances, he'd easily tear a way out of the textile, but with his arms pressed close against his body and the blanket tightly wrapped around him like an overgrown Boa Constrictor, getting out was surprisingly though. Oh, and, there was also Bucky, who had a leg thrown over him, effectively pinning him against the couch, but Peter wouldn't have been able to concentrate on getting out anyway, even if he wanted to.

"I've gohohot ihihihit, I-Ihihi've gohoht ihit! Youhu cahan stahahap, okahahay? Pleahase, Buhuhucky!"

He's growing crazy.

Around him is nothing but sheer darkness. He's blind, swallowed, and betrayed by his blanket and at the mercy of whatever Bucky has in stock for him. Peter's toes are curling at the attempt to fend off the fingers, but they are giving chase. When he shakes them off, they merely switch feet to provide the other toes with the same treatment. It's alarming how Bucky knows how to turn him into a pile of squirming limbs, unable to contain his laughter.

"I would say this is even more effective on you than Steve back in the day," comments Bucky with a grin as he lets a single finger glide over Peter's sole. The whole blanket cocoon jumps at the action.

Bucky's grin rivals a Cheshire cat.

"That was something. Might be more sensitive than your toes, huh?"

"NO! It's nohot! Yohuhu're mistahaking, seriously."

"Do I? Your reaction tells me otherwise." As if to underline his words, Bucky strokes his fingers again, slowly and teasingly, down the soles of his feet.

"Stohop it! That's nohohot fuhunny!"

"I'm entertained greatly. But if you're not having fun, we've gotta do something about it."

"Nohohoh, please dohohon't!"

Even Peter knew it would be hard to take him seriously with the sheer quantity of giggles pouring out of him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Bucky looks up, his arms never ceasing their hold around Peter's ankles.

"Though I'd try some reliable methods from back in the days. Till now, it looks promising."

Durning Bucky's answer, Sam glances at the squirming heap of blankets. The head of the kid had vanished. The only part indicating he was still there was the madly kicking legs in his friend's grasp.

"Is that so," he asks, slightly skeptical.

As an answer to his question, a panicked squeal followed by even more panicked struggling echoes through the room as Bucky, without warning, attacks one foot with five wriggling fingers.

Sam's mood improves all of a sudden after being witness to Bucky's little demonstration. Having Stark laughing at him again and telling him that he should just let the teen do what he wants, Sam had been more than done with this. But with the new knowledge and the ability to take some well-deserved renege, Sam's bad temper is history.

"Let me try."

His lip twitched upwards as his words caused the teen below him to try to wriggle out of the blanket with new-found vigor.

"You've got to be pretty ticklish if you're that afraid of what's to come," observes the man, sharing a grin with Bucky.

"He's worse than Steve."

"Am not!" comes the sulky answer as fast as a bullet.

"That so?" teases Sam with a smug grin while sitting down.

"Seeing your reaction, I'm not convinced."

The cocoon stops wriggling for a moment.

"Maybe it's time to get checked by an optician."

Bucky barks out a laugh, earning a glare from his friend.

"I hope you have a tight hold on the little runt," growls Sam, and before Bucky can answer, he dishes out a relentless tickle attack on the teen's helpless feet.

Maybe he shouldn't have provoked Sam.

That's the only thing Peter can think about, apart from one all-consuming thought.

It tickles.

Oh god, how bad it tickles.

"Visit an optician, my ass. What do you call this Buck? Does that look like not ticklish to you?"

Sam found out quickly that light touches got the best reactions. With feather-light touches and

a mean precision, he strokes the tips of his fingers, in quick succession, over the soft skin. Even if they couldn't see his face, the sounds from within the blanket were enough to tell them that Sam works very effectively.

"You could almost think he lied to us," states Bucky dryly, but not without a grin.

"Am nohohohoht lyhihihing!"

"Right. What you're doing doesn't count as lying. You're in denial. Not sure if I know what's worse."

"What doho youhu knohohohow anywahahay?"

"I know you're not in a position to talk big."

Peter had anticipated another attack on his feet. Honestly, he had counted on a lot of things. Getting pulled out of his DIY prison had not been on the list. The surprise is written all over his face as his hand shoots up instinctively to protect his tightly shut eyes from the piercing ceiling lights. His reflex is also his downfall as a pair of hands capture his wrists with ease and promptly hold them over his head. Completely taken out of order by the bright light, the teen reacts belated as a weight settles on top of his legs, pinning him to the couch. The lights dim as Friday seems to have caught onto his trouble opening his eyes, and it takes a few moments before he dares open his eyes again.

"Well, where were we?" asks Sam, cracking his knuckles.

"The kid said you should get your eyes checked."

Sam squints at Bucky before directing his eyes down to Peter, pointing a finger at his chest.

"See what you did? Now I'm going to hear about this for the next weeks."

The kid dared to chuckle. Sam was sure he didn't imagine it. The kid was even making fun of him in this situation. How did it come to this level of disrespect? He raises an eyebrow at the teen, which causes the exact opposite of what he had in mind. The teen fought a grin.

"Are you laughing at me?"

Peter's eyes are twinkling with mischief.

"There is that optician shop right around the corner. I know the manager from one of my patrols. Her name is Patrisha, and she's super nice. I could put in a woHOHORD FOHOR YOUHUHUU! NO, STAHAP IHIHIT!"

"Stop?" asks Sam, whose fingers have found a way under the teen's sleeping shirt and whose thumbs are kneading into the sensitive side of Peter's stomach. "After everything you just said, you little gremlin?"

Peter pulled and tore on his arms, but Bucky's hold didn't budge an inch. His upper body lay helplessly exposed to Sam's attacks. Sam seems very aware of that, too, and doesn't miss splashing out every technique he can think of while searching meticulously for Peter's weak points as if it were hard to find them. Both adults quickly realize that the squirming teen turns out ticklish all over. The kneading had been evil already, but when Sam began softly tickling over his bare stomach, the tips of his fingertips barely touching him, Peter thought he was ready to crawl out of his skin. He kicks his legs, bucking in their hold, and his face is about to split in half by how much he's grinning.

"STOHOHOHOP, stopstopstopstohohop, pleahahase! Sahaham! I cahahan't tahahake thihhis!"

"Oh, come on, don't spoil the fun. Spider-Man surely can handle a little tickling. Wait a second. Didn't you say you're not ticklish? If I do this, it shouldn't bother you. If you didn't lie about it."

Sam grins smugly, pushing the shirt upwards. He reveals a pale but well-defined stomach.

"That skin is as white as a sheet. You ever go out?" comments Bucky, and Peter doesn't know why but finds himself laughing even louder. Or it could be the cause of Sam's fingers, which have found their way towards his ribs and dug into them with vigor. The teen jolts as a finger digs into a particularly delicate spot, right under his bottom rib.

"Would you look at that?" Bucky and Sam share shit-eating grins while Peter gasps for air between a giggle fit.

"What have we gotten here?" Sam asks. He puts his hands on Peter's ribs, his thumbs lying right on the spot that had made the teen jump a moment before. That alone was enough to make him flinch again.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's a bruise from a few days aGOHOHO. NO!"

"You got hit?" asks Sam incredulously, before massaging into the spot with circling movements of his thumbs.

Peter can only nod, lips pressed tightly together, and eyes squeezed shut as he tries ignoring the electrical impulse jolting his entire body with pure willpower. He might have succeeded if there wasn't a third hand sneaking down and blunt nails dragging over his right armpit.

Brown eyes shot open widely, and Sam used the moment of surprise to press both thumbs into the spot while vibrating his hands and shaking them as the rest of his fingers dug between the teen's ribs.

"NAAHAHAHAHAHA. THAHAHAHAT'S UNFAIHIHIHIR! AHAHAHAHA BUHUHUHCKY, YOUHU'RE SUHUHUCH AHAN ASS-ACK! I'M TAHAKING IT BACK!! I'm taking it back, I'm tahahaking ihihit bahahack! I never said anythihing!"

"It's fascinating how a little tickling can bother a non-ticklish person as much as this, right?"

Bucky had to put both hands back to use holding the teen down, who was trying everything to free himself. Peter squirms back and forth under the series of attacks as high-pitched squeaks, followed by loud laughter, pour out of him. "Youhuh bohoth ahahre terrible! Terriblehe ahahand meahan!"

"You told your aunt something different."

Sam almost felt evil.

Wide eyes stared at him with something akin to horror.

"How do you know what I've talked about with my aunt?"

"We might have overheard some stuff."

Both men thought now they took it too far. But instead of distrust or anger, the teen wears a cheeky expression, eyes gleaming with a familiarity resembling Stark a bit too much for Sam's liking.

"Good to know that at least you're hearing's still alright."

"You little shit. Just wait till I'm done with you," threatens Sam with a growl. Before Peter can let out another savvy quip, the man bends forward and blows a giant raspberry on top of his stomach.

Peter didn't see that one coming.

A short scream escapes his throat, his back arching off the couch as the flight reflex kicks in harder than ever, collapsing into a madly giggling heap of weak limbs.

"I think you just found Spider-Man's weak spot. Gotta remember that for the next training session."

Those words would usually be enough to leave Peter shuddering, but, at the moment, he couldn't grab one clear thought as Sam's head was already on the way down.

"Let's see how many of these you can handle, tough cookie," teases Sam with a smirk as he blows a third, fourth, and fifth raspberry on Peter's stomach and when he can reach his sides.

"Ohoho my gohohod, pleahahase, stahahap it!" presses Peter out before breaking into another giggle fit, adorable squeaky laughter bouncing off the walls and filling the room.

"You know, all that wouldn't have happened if you had just got up when we told you to. How about now? Will you get up? Are you awake?"

The grin on Peter's face reaches up to his eyes, mirth dancing in them despite the teen calling them out for torturing him. Sam observes the kid growing frantic as his fingers wander higher up.

"I can get you wide awake in a second. Wanna bet?"

With these words, Sam bends his head down again, but before his lips can meet skin, he stops and digs his fingers into Peter's armpits instead. A mad cackling follows, and Peter pulls and pulls on his wrists, the feeling of fingers fluttering over his armpits driving him up a wall.

"I'M AWAKE. IHIHI AM COMPLETELY AWAWAKE! Ohoh my gohohod, Sahaham stohop. Pleahase nohot my underarms, I'm goihihing tohoho gehehet up whenehehever you tell mehe toho!"

"Only when I'm telling you?"

"Whehehehn you're bohoth are tehehelling me!"

"You know, I don't care if you listen to Bucky."

Bucky turns away from the teen to send a glare to Sam's way. "You wanna fight?"

The teen uses the distraction and pulls strongly. He manages to get one arm out of Bucky's hold. He grabs Bucky's hand, prying the fingers off his other wrist.

"Oh no, you don't," says Sam and claws his hands into the teen's stomach. The fingers retreat from Bucky's hands as the teen cackles and tries shoving Sam off of him. Bucky takes the distraction as a chance and quickly captures the free hand as Sam weakens the kid by digging his thumbs into his hipbones.

"You listen when we tell you, alright?" he asks with a grin as he threatens to let his fingers hover over the kid's exposed tummy. Peter's eyes weren't even focusing on him, only watching his hands while unwillingly sucking his stomach in as Sam smirks at him.

"Ihihi wihill!"

"And now admit that you're ticklish."

At first, both adults didn't think it would be possible for the teen to grow redder in the face, but they were proven wrong after Bucky's words.

They couldn't stop teasing the teen for it.

"Come on," urges Bucky, using one hand to hold the teen's wrists as he pokes him in the side, earning a panicked chuckle.

"Admit it. I'm a itty bitty ticklish spider."

Peter glares at them and shakes his head, but the continuing poking from both men causes him quickly to fall into another hiccupy giggle fit.

"If you refuse, we have to handle this a different way," taunts Bucky with a sigh as if he regrets the next thing he's about to do. Peter struggles against the grip, but Bucky pulls his arms further, stretching his upper body and leaving it to Sam's mercy. The other man makes sure to dig his thumbs into the teen's stomach before blowing one raspberry after another on the quivering belly under him.

"Sam! Sahaham, pleahahase. Thihihis is torture! I'm going tohoho, to tehell Steve that you-ACK, ahahaha, thahat you two tormented meheh!"

"Nice try, but Steve doesn't like snitches."

"Steve also doesn't like bullies," argues the teen with the best glare he could muster.

Sam and Bucky exchange glances.

It doesn't take two seconds for Peter to regret his threat.

"I'm sorry! I'M SOHOHORRY! SAHAHAHAM, BUHUHUCKY! Noho mohore, pleasahe. I'm tahaking ihit bahack! I wohon't say anythihin to Steve, okay? NAHAHAHA STAHAP, SAM! NO! No,no nohohoho not thihis agahahain, pleaahase. I'm tihicklish, you heard me? I admit ihit, pleahase stahap."

"Okay, one more thing."

The kid sent them a pleading look, and Bucky felt like kicking a puppy if he didn't let him go now. Peter quickly pulls his shirt down once set free and crosses his arms over his chest. He climbs to the end of the couch, a wary look in his eyes. He doesn't trust any of them right now.

Sam rolls his eyes at the teen's overdramatics while Bucky smirks. Deciding to ignore the kid's glare, Sam sits down next to him.

"Why are you acting so different around us now?"

Peter raises an eyebrow at the question.

"I thought you eavesdropped on me and my aunt?"

"Maybe, but it still doesn't make sense."

There is a new shade of pink growing on the kid's ears and neck. He looks down and picks at his pajama pants.

"I kinda got intimidated by you two. I always thought you didn't like me very much, and there isn't more to it than being on the same team during missions. I've never dared to be just me around you guys like I would with Mr. Stark or Clint. But when you two took care of me when I was sick, I realized that you express your affection differently than I'm used to."

"Are you telling me that now you know what we are like, you're going to continue acting like a little gremlin cause you feel comfortable around us?"

There it is again.

That dreaded shit-eating grin.

"Maybe."

Sam groans.

"Great."

Peter smiles before looking up at the man.

"Hey, Sam."

"What?"

"About the thing with the glasses-"

"Come here, you little shit!"

#ticklish peter parker #lee! peter parker #ler! bucky barnes #ler! sam wilson #peter parker #spider man #avengers fanfiction #avengers #bucky barnes #winter soldier #falcon #sam wilson #tickling #marvel tickle fic #marvel #marvel fanfic

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putschki1969 · 5 months ago

Note

Hi Puts!!

I hope you’re doing well! Thank you for always sharing information about pretty much everything, along your thoughts. After every event I always look forward to reading your reviews/comments.

You’ve pretty much inspired me to learn Japanese (along with the girls)! I’m even studying abroad in Japan this fall!! My exact days are August 22 - December 22.

I wasn’t sure I would be able to go until quite late (my program sucks at communications info) so I’ve been busy dealing with preparing to go to Japan, that I haven’t applied or bought any tickets! (Pretty much panicking at this point since I don’t know when I’ll be back).

Unfortunately YK vol.#20 tour ends before I arrive which I’m so depressed about since I loved every setlist (especially with Hikaru now performing T_T) (hoping she has more performances). Thankfully there’s still Wakana’s Classics, but I’m trying to figure that out still.

I was wondering if you knew any upcoming performances where there’s a good chance I can buy tickets still (whether online or at door) or have any advice on what I should do? I know there’s the Highway Star Party event but I’m not really interested in that. I will have a japanese phone number, address, and residency card so hopefully even the trickier tickets don’t cause any problems.

Also is there anywhere you suggest I visit? Restaurants and food? I plan to do a deep search and visit places the girls have mentioned ^ ^, more specifically around Tokyo.

Anyways, sorry for the long post/ask. Thank you for everything you’ve done!!

Hello there!

Thank you for this lovely message! And wow! That sounds amazing! I hope you'll have a great time in Japan.

What a shame though that you won't make it in time for the last YKL Vol#20 performance with Hikaru as guest vocalist. As of right now, I don't think they are planning to add any more dates for Japan. They have been known to announce at least one or two additional performances for Tokyo in the past but this year, it looks like they will end the main portion of the tour this weekend in Saitama. However, there are four concerts scheduled for November in China, Thailand and Malaysia. Chances are high that Hikaru will be invited as guest vocalist for these. Keep an eye out for any updates on that! We don't have any details yet but if you get the chance to go on a short weekend trip, I'd definitely recommend you get yourself a ticket and check out one of those places.

Overseas Performances YKL Vol.#20 Tour The performances are scheduled for November 2024. YK and her team will be returning to Shanghai (China), and will be performing for the first time in Guangzhou (China), Bangkok (Thailand), and Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia).

It may be a bit too late for this but you should 100% try to get a ticket for Keiko's upcoming fan club event! Just a few days ago, they announced a second lottery round so there's still a chance to apply for tickets until August 4! I don't know if you are a member of Keiko's FC but you could technically still register and hopefully finish the procedure in time to take part in the ticket lottery. Please note though that you'll probably need help from someone in Japan when using Lawson Ticket.

『KEIKO fan meeting chocolate meating #4』 Date: September 7, 2024 (Sat) Venue: TIAT SKY HALL 1st (Day): Open 14:00 /Start 14:30 2nd (Evening): Open 17:30 / Start 18:00　

Aside from possibly joining the YKL Vol#20 Asia tour leg, Hikaru will also be holding her very own solo tour during the winter time. Again, we don't have any details yet but once further infos get announced, I recommend you get your hands on a couple of tickets for one or two of those concerts. The Toyama live in particular is something I'd aim for if you want to have the best possible experience. Also a great opportunity to explore Hikaru's hometown

Hikaru Solo Tour 2024/25 -2024- 24/11/30 (Sat) Toyama 24/12/07 (Sat) Aichi 24/12/14 (Sat) Miyagi 24/12/21 (Sat) Kyoto 25/02/11 (Tue) Tokyo

The FC ticket lotteries for Wakana Classics are already over but there will be other options available soon. Last year, ticket playguide lotteries for non-FC members took place in October (with a subsequent regular sale) so I expect the same to happen this year. Just be patient a little while longer. They will most likely launch a dedicated webpage on the BSFuji website with some more infos on the concert and where to get tickets.

『Wakana Classics 2024 (tbd)』 Date/Time: 2024/12/18; Start 18:30~ Venue: Hamarikyu Asahi Hall

As for food and restaurants, that's very difficult for me to answer because I typically try to visit places that the girls have recently been to (I guess it's more of a spontaneous thing?). I do my best to keep track of all the good spots but it's a struggle T_T I suck at everything that's related to locations. However, you can check out my MEDIA posts on Twitter to see pictures of some of the spots I've already visited. I usually add a little description to my tweets so you should be able to figure out which places I'm talking about.

Three very popular Kalafina pilgrimage places are definitely Tsurutontan Roppongi (from an old blog post), La Maison Kioi (from a SPICE interview) and Shinagawa Aquarium (from a FC Harmony feature). Here's a blog post where I talk about visiting all three of them. One day, I want to eat at all the gyoza restaurants that Wakana has recommended in her fan club magazines but that's actually not so easy since most of those places are tiny and require a reservation.

You should also try to make short day trips to Ishikiri-Sanmyaku and Oya History Museum (best done with a group of locals or fellow fans). Both are beautiful locations which were used for various music videos (Kalafina's "Hyakka Ryouran", Hikaru's "Alterna-ate-", Kalafina's "Kagayaku Sora no Shijima ni wa", Wakana's "Butterfly Dream").

Sorry I can't provide a better list but hopefully, this will help at least a little bit.

#kalafina #reply #personal #Wakana Classics 2024 #ykl vol 20 #Hikaru Solo Tour 2024/25 #Chocolate Meating #KEIKO fan meeting chocolate meating vol4

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mysafehaneul · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 8 Part 3

The door swung open dramatically, revealing Jungkook's entry. Following behind him, Deokyeom strolled into your office.

"How's my favorite sister-in-law in the whole world doing?"

You rose from your chair, and a surprised smile graced your face as you went to greet Jungkook. A warm embrace conveyed your delight at his unexpected visit. Meanwhile, Deokyeom, ever the gentleman, waited near the door for your approval.

You gently patted Jungkook's back, signaling the end of your embrace.

"I'm good, Jungkook. What brings you here?" You turned to acknowledge Deokyeom, who remained poised near the door. "Mr. Lee, please, come in."

Mr. Lee responded with a respectful bow and extended his warm greetings.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice." you offered. "Why, Noona, aren't you happy to see me here?" Jungkook playfully pouted, and before you could respond, Deokyeom intervened, gently pulling Jungkook to his side. He looked apologetically at you and explained, "I'm sorry, Ms. L/N. I'm aware I was instructed to come alone due to the confidentiality of the matter. However, Mr. Jungkook and I have a meeting with another client afterward, so when I was coming here alone..." Deokyeom's words trailed off, and he added a hint of exaggeration to the word "alone" while shooting a quick glare at Jungkook, who wore the expression of a kicked puppy," Mr. Jungkook insisted that his presence would be beneficial."

You observed them both quizzically, especially Jungkook, who continued to look at you with puppy-dog eyes.

"I see," you said, gesturing towards the single unoccupied chair next to Rema at the desk. "Mr. Lee, why don't you settle down? And, you remember Rema, right? She's my lawyer. As you mentioned, this is a matter of confidentiality, and I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"Noona, I thought we became close after that game," Jungkook exclaimed, referencing the truth and dare game. "Why did you want to meet Hyung's lawyer?" He took a step back, a slack-jawed expression taking over his features. He then loudly whispered, "You're... you're going to divorce Hyung already."

"Jungkook, how could you possibly-" you began.

He dramatically grasped your hand and continued, "Noona, I'm sure my Hyung has faults, and he can act like he has a stick up his ass sometimes," you unknowingly nodded in agreement before realizing and chiding yourself. Jungkook carried on, "But he has a heart of gold, and I'm sure he loves you. I've seen it in his ey-"

"Jungkook! Jungkook," you shook your clasped hand to end his rant.

"No one's divorcing anyone, okay? I've just called Mr. Lee to discuss something about our joint project since your Hyung is in Malaysia," you lied. "So calm down."

You gave him a knowing nod and leaned into mumble, "I know you're not here to see me," giving him a coy smile as a slight blush started to paint his face. He let go of your hand, and you moved back to your desk as Deokyeom settled down. You rang Rachel, who appeared as she entered, and both you and Rema noticed the dumbfounded look on the boy's features.

"Rach, send in some coffee for Ms. Sinha and Mr. Lee, and tea for me," you said, your tone a blend of professional politeness and a subtle plea for assistance. You accompanied your request with an eye smile, a secret signal between you and Rachel that clearly conveyed, 'Please escort Mr. Jungkook elsewhere. I can't have him hanging around during this discussion.'

Rachel nodded and turned her attention to Jungkook, who had been eagerly waiting for his cue.

"Mr. Jungkook," she began, keeping her tone neutral despite the annoyance she felt underneath.

"Yes, Rach," Jungkook responded with an air of exaggerated sweetness that only served to irritate Rachel further.

Nonetheless, Rachel was a seasoned professional. She knew how to maintain her composure even when dealing with individuals who are prone to tripping over air.

Gesturing gracefully toward the door, she suggested, "After you."

With an agility that contradicted his previous antics, Jungkook promptly stepped up beside the door where Rachel had positioned herself.

"Although I'm disappointed that I can't contribute to this undoubtedly significant meeting," he began, his tone more earnest now, "I'll certainly abide by your wishes, Noona. After all, 'the client is god,' as they say." He offered an exaggerated salute, and added "And Noona, I'm rooting for both of you. Fighting!" with a raised fist, then exited the room.

Rachel raised an eyebrow and slowly shook her head at you, a clear indication of her disbelief at the situation she had just been placed in. Your silent response was an apologetic look, acknowledging that you were well aware of the awkwardness of the encounter.

As Jungkook left, you redirected your attention to face an overly amused Rema and a somewhat embarrassed Deokyeom, who was taken aback by his junior's antics. You let out a breath, feeling relieved.

"Cute kid," Rema mumbled with a chuckle after Jungkook had exited and the door was securely shut.

Deokyeom leaned back in his chair, still somewhat embarrassed. "If one could call a 26-year-old a kid."

"I mean, it must be fun to have him around in the office," Rema suggested. "I'm sure our lives can get pretty monotonous."

Deokyeom looked back at the door, which was now closed. "Yeah, you can say that," he replied affectionately, a touch of nostalgia in his voice.

You leaned forward, interlacing your fingers on the desk, and cleared your throat. "Shall we begin?"

Rema and Deokyeom, both seasoned professionals, quickly donned their professional masks, their expressions shifting to a more serious demeanor as they shifted their focus back to the purpose of the meeting.

...

Racheal was diligently checking her computer screen, going over the agenda that had been covered for the day, and preparing for the next contact with one of the new suppliers. As she typed away, a voice interrupted her.

"I think I've seen you somewhere," the voice said.

She looked up from her computer to see the young man, Jungkook, sitting in the chair next to her desk, a playful grin on his face. He rested his head in his hand and leaned against the desk.

"I'm sure it was from your cousin's wedding—"

"No, you're the girl who's been haunting my dreams," he interrupted with a cheeky smile.

The line sent a shiver down Racheal's arms, and her face twisted in disgust. "Do you use that line often?"

He chuckled. "Not really, no."

"Good," she replied dryly. "It would be quite pitiful if it did work."

Jungkook's smile faded slightly. "I have other lines as well."

"No, thank you," she said dismissively, returning her attention to her computer.

Several minutes passed in silence, with Racheal engrossed in her work and Jungkook idly playing with a paperweight on her desk. Then, he spoke up again.

"Tell me, Rach."

"It's Ms. LEE for you."

"Really?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "So tell me, Rach, do you like friends?"

Racheal's fingers paused over the keyboard when she heard that question, and she slowly raised her eyes to meet his, a vacant look on her face.

"I guess your mum did," he continued casually and went back to toying with the paperweight.

"What's your type?" Jungkook asked with a smirk.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose, exasperation evident in her voice. "Guys who don't trip over air and don't try to sleep with every woman they meet."

"Oh, someone has done her research," Jungkook said, leaning back in his chair with a smug smile.

"No," she replied, unfazed. "It didn't require much research, just observations from our two brief meetings."

He nodded and, not even four beats of silence later, he opened his mouth again.

"So, Rach, do you believe in past lives?"

Rachel groaned internally. "Oh lord, have mercy," she thought. "How long will this meeting go on?" She leaned back and glanced at the office door. "Please, boss, before I end up killing this man-child."

....

30 minutes later...

Rema glanced at Deokyeom, then at you, and said, "I suppose that covers everything."

"Ms. Y/N," Deokyeom began, his tone inquisitive, "I understand you're a very meticulous businesswoman, but may I inquire why you're creating a will without Mr. Jeon's knowledge?"

You looked over at him, your lips forming a tight smile. He nodded in understanding.

"Well," he continued, "I respect your decision, but I don't believe Mr. Jeon will take kindly to this when he finds out."

You rose from your chair, noticing Rema's habit of biting her lip when she had something to say but held it back.

"That's alright. I'll talk to Wonwoo about it myself. I hope you respect my decision and keep this information confidential."

Deokyeom's expression darkened, and he replied, "I'm afraid I can't promise that. Since Mr. Jeon is my client, if he inquires about it, I'll have no choice but to inform him."

You nodded in understanding, realizing that you'd have to speak to Wonwoo about this matter yourself to prevent any misunderstandings.

...

"Have you told him about the threats yet?" Rema whispered harshly as soon as you closed the door behind you, having seen Jungkook and Deokyeom off.

"I haven't had the chance," you replied, walking over to the couch. The clock neared 1 pm, and the golden sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow in the room, as the city traffic seemed to slow down.

Rema pressed further, her concern evident in her voice, "What's holding you back from telling him? This is a serious matter."

"Rema, I understand that withholding this information puts the people around me at risk, but what can I tell a person who's away from home dealing with—"

"At least inform the police," she interrupted, raising her voice.

You both stopped talking when you noticed Racheal standing in the doorway, observing your slightly agitated faces. "Uh... This came in the morning," she said, holding a bouquet of hyacinth floral arrangement.

"If you'd like, I can come back later," she began, slowly backing away.

You closed your eyes, attempting to calm your breathing. "No, it's alright, Rach. Do you know who sent this?"

"I'm not sure. It was on my desk when I returned from the washroom."

Rema walked over to the desk where Racheal had placed the bouquet. "Well, there's a card."

You got up from the couch, walked over to them, and took the card that Rema extended toward you. "I think it must be from your admirer," Rema teased. You rolled your eyes, flipping the card to read it.

The words were written in cursive, and you smiled as you read the first line. But as you continued reading, your face gradually paled. It was as if you'd seen a ghost, and you staggered back, the card slipping from your fingers.

Concern etched all over Rema's face as she bent down to pick up the fallen card, recognizing the fear that had washed over her.

This reminded me of you.

They say that this flower symbolizes profound sorrow, it was born out of the blood of Hyakinthos who died in an accident when Apollo and Zephyr were fighting over him.

I am sure you won't want the faith of Hyakinthos, over whose love is greater than the other.

P.S. I'll make sure your casket is surrounded by these, for I have great confidence a lot of people would feel profound sorrow upon your loss.

"Y/n," Rema said, her voice tinged with worry and pain, "these threats are not hoaxes."

....

You sit in your office, your mind in a daze after the events of the day. The clock on the wall reads 5 PM. Suddenly, there's a soft knock at your door. You look up to see Racheal standing there, concern in her eyes.

"It's time to go home," she says softly. "Shall I accompany you?"

You take a moment to collect your thoughts before responding, "No, it's okay. I came with the driver. I'll be fine. Thank you, Racheal."

She respects your decision and nods. Together, you leave the office.

Dinner was a bit of a blur as well. Noel and Jeonghan carried on most of the conversation. Jeonghan was leaving tomorrow night with his mother, who he came to pick up since she was afraid of flying alone. When Noel asked if he could go too, you hesitated at first, citing his school commitments. He pouted, and you saw his disappointment. After a moment of contemplation, you thought it might be safer for him to go, especially since you hoped to have resolved the threat hanging over your head by then. You agreed, but with one condition - if Noel ate all his carrots, he could go. He eagerly munched them down, sealing the deal.

Jeonghan reassured you that Leila, Noel's former nanny will also be there. You nodded and insisted that they could use your private jet, to which he responded with a wistful smile, "Ah, the perks of having rich friends."

After dinner, you and Jeonghan began clearing the table. He had been sensing that something was off since you returned home.

"Are you worried about what I said this morning?" he asked gently. "Don't stress over it. Let things work out at their own pace. It's not like you can control it."

You managed a small smile, appreciating his understanding. He nudged your hips and added, "And if it makes you feel better, I left a wedding gift for you in your bedroom," he winked.

....

When Wonwoo arrived, it was around 11 p.m. The lights in the house were mostly off, but he noticed a soft glow coming from your room. He went to his room, took a quick shower, and changed into more comfortable attire. As he towel-dried his hair, he couldn't help but wonder if you were upset with him.

Although he thought you might already be asleep, he decided to check on you. Is she mad at me? He couldn't shake off the nagging feeling.

Your bedroom door was slightly ajar, and as he approached, he could see you standing in front of the mirror. Your hair was gathered in a bun, and you were wearing a stunning deep green dress with a v-neckline, a low plunging back, and a front slit that reached the top of your left thigh. The rose lace details on the dress added to its allure, making you look so breathtakingly beautiful that even the goddess of beauty would be envious.

He found himself temporarily mesmerized by the sight, unsure whether to interrupt your preparations or simply admire your captivating presence from the doorway.

He pushed the door open gently absently caressing the fabric of your night dress near your stomach. Your eyes were distant, lost in thoughts. Wonwoo stepped closer, concerned.

"You're still awake," he whispered softly. However, you remained oblivious, lost in your contemplation.

He furrowed his brows, pondering what could be bothering you. He reached out and lightly rested his hand on your shoulder.

Your reaction was swift and startling. You jumped and let out a startled scream. "AHH!!" Wonwoo instinctively covered your mouth with his hand, his heart racing as your panic reverberated through the room. Wide-eyed, he gazed at you in shock, realizing that his presence had caused you distress.

"It's me, it's me," he quickly reassured you, his warm eyes meeting yours. Gradually, your fear began to ebb as you recognized him. "It's just me. Calm down, or you'll wake up the whole House," he whispered, his voice soothing as he removed his hand from your mouth.

You swallowed, your heart still pounding, and closed your eyes, attempting to regain your composure. "Why did you sneak up on me?" your voice quivered slightly, the shock still apparent. You instinctively placed your hand over your racing heart. "I didn't sneak up on you. When I called your name, you were lost in your own world," Wonwoo responded gently. He reached up to lightly flick your forehead and offered you a warm, reassuring smile, which made your furrowed brows slowly relax.

"When did you arrive?" you asked, looking at him inquisitively.

"An hour ago," he replied, his eyes wandering around your room. He couldn't help but notice the gift bag and a Victoria's Secret box on your bed. "Hmm, it looks like someone went shopping," he commented.

You glanced in the direction he was looking and chuckled. "Oh no," you shook your head, "JJ brought this as a gift."

"What was he doing at Victoria's Secret?" Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.

You gave him an enigmatic smile. "Trust me, Wonwoo, you'd rather not know," you teased, your eyes sparkling.

You turned to face the mirror, running your hand over the soft material of the nightdress. "I like it. It's very pretty," you said, admiring the garment.

Wonwoo stepped up behind you, his hands gently resting on your waist. Your eyes met in the mirror as he kissed the back of your neck, his lips brushing your skin. "I think it's you wearing it that makes it prettier," he murmured against your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Load of shit," you responded with a smoky voice, your stomach fluttering with his nearness.

"You wound me, Mrs. Jeon," Wonwoo retorted playfully.

"I never anticipated you to be so easily woundable, Mr. Jeon," you quipped, tugging at his still half-dried hair. He hissed as your nails gently scraped his scalp.

His kisses began to trace a path down your neck, eliciting soft, breathy moans from you.

"Wonwoo," you breathed out.

"Yes, baby girl," he whispered, his voice husky and filled with desire.

But when you didn't respond to his advances, he grew concerned. He gently grabbed your shoulders and made you face him, brushing the hair that had escaped your bun behind your ears. "What's wrong?" he asked, gazing into your eyes, searching for any signs of distress or discomfort.

So many thoughts were jumbling in your head, from the conversation with Jeonghan to the threatening message, the unexpected flowers, and the unsettling meeting with the lawyer. As you tried to figure out how to begin, your eyes stared blankly at the carpet beneath your feet. You felt Wonwoo slightly grab your chin, guiding your gaze to his. "Y/n," he said softly, his thumb gently tracing your lips, "don't overthink it. Just say what's on your mind."

Taking a deep breath, you looked into his warm, reassuring eyes. You decided to confess what had been weighing on your heart. "I kinda missed you," you admitted, your voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

Wonwoo released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and let out a nervous laugh. "You got me worried there for a second," he said, pulling you into a tight hug and gently patting the back of your head. "I kinda missed you too."

As you stood in his embrace, you felt his heartbeat against your palm, a steady and comforting rhythm. You thought about how you wished you could find the right words to express the complex emotions swirling within you. It was challenging to make others understand what was happening inside of you when you couldn't fully explain it to yourself. The words you were accustomed to swallowing had somehow devoured you, leaving you with a maelstrom of feelings that couldn't be easily articulated.

You moved from his warm hug, eyes locking onto his as you asked, "Did you have dinner?"

He nodded in response, and you inquired further, "And how was Malaysia?"

"Humid," he replied, his brow furrowing as he recalled the trip. You arched an eyebrow, prompting him to continue, "Now that I think about it, I feel like I skipped dessert on my flight."

Playfully, you pushed his chest, creating some space between the two of you. Moving the bags and boxes on the bed, you teased, "God, you're so corny," and rolled your eyes at his dessert remark.

But before you could step away, he swiftly sat down on the bed, pulled you gently between his legs, and gazed up at you. "What can be done?" he pondered, his voice softened. "You chose this corny," he added, a mischievous glint in his eye, before slowly pulling you in for a kiss.

The room was dimly lit by a golden night lamp, casting a warm, soft glow on the lovers. A gift box was thrown haphazardly across the room, the light bouncing off its surface. The mirror on the wall reflected the image of the two of you, lost in each other, and the kiss. Outside, the moon gleamed brightly, casting its silvery light through the fluttering white curtains. The room felt like a sanctuary, where time seemed to stand still as you shared this tender moment.

...

You lay on his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful half-sleep. But his voice, distant and contemplative, brought you back to the present.

He stared at the ceiling, holding you in his embrace while his mind drifted back to when he was just sixteen.

He began, "You know when I was sixteen, it was my first summer back from London, after getting my driver's license. Mingyu, my best friend, His father used to work for my grandpa, my childhood friend, accompanied me. I was ecstatic about my new car, that Dad brought for me, and it happened to be a full moon night. Both of us shared a profound fascination with astronomy."

Wonwoo chuckled as he continued, "To be honest, I was more excited about taking my new car for a spin. Mingyu took me to this observatory spot he'd found, along with his telescope and everything. It rained earlier that day, and it made the skies even clearer. You won't believe it, Y/N, but when I peered through that telescope, that's when I truly understood why people write poetic praises to the moon."

His voice quivered with emotions as he shared, "Mingyu told me he wanted to earn enough to build a house there, right by the observatory, and after his time was over, it would become an observatory for everyone to enjoy. I remember telling him he didn't have to wait. I promised to buy that land, build a hotel there, and gift that spot to him for the observatory. But Mingyu shook his head, saying that the feeling of earning something couldn't compare to having it handed over."

Wonwoo's voice grew heavy as he recounted the tragic night. "The roads were slippery, and I was getting drowsy. Mingyu insisted on driving, but as we navigated the dark roads, he missed the animal crossing sign. A forest deer suddenly appeared in front of our car, and in an attempt to avoid it, Mingyu made a split-second turn. But with the roads being so slick, our car flipped over."

He paused, the pain of the memory still fresh. "The shards of glass from the window pierced Mingyu's stomach. Even breathing was difficult for him. But he was still alive, and before he took his last breath, he said, 'Thank you for bringing me to see the moon tonight. I'm glad I got to see it before I died.' I kept pleading with him to hold on, talking about the observatory, but he just smiled and closed his eyes."

"Oh, Wonu," you consoled him, cradling his head on your chest as he clung to you. "If only I hadn't taken that car..."

He continued, "If only I had driven that car, he wouldn't have died, Y/N. He had so much potential in school; he was always at the top of his class."

You gently ran your fingers through his hair, and his shoulders shook as he relived the painful memory.

"It's okay, it's okay," you reassured him. "Cry it out. It must have been hurting you for a long time. It's okay."

He sobbed, his face buried in the crook of your neck. After a few minutes, his sobs began to subside, and you continued speaking softly.

"You were just sixteen. There was nothing you could do," you told him. "I'm sure Mingyu was grateful that you survived. Maybe deep down, he knew that if your roles were reversed, he wouldn't have been able to bear your loss."

"How can you say that?" Wonwoo inquired, his voice filled with uncertainty.

You gently cupped his face, wiping away his tears, and said, "I can say that because I know in my heart that when you love someone, Truly love someone, all you want is for them to be happy, even if it means you aren't a part of their life anymore."

"So forgive yourself," you urged, your eyes gleaming with tears and empathy. "You were just a kid, only sixteen, and I'm sure that wherever Mingyu is now, he's looking down at you with a smile, grateful that you're healthy and living well."

He paused and gazed at you, his eyes filled with emotion. "Do you want to know where that accident site is?"

You nodded, your expression a mix of curiosity and trepidation. He moistened his lips and exhaled. "Burbone Road."

Your face fell, and you began shaking your head. "No," you whispered, your voice laden with sorrow. "Wonwoo..."

As you looked more and more crestfallen, your words spilled out. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. That time in the office, and then in the Jeon mansion, I called you greedy, shallow, selfish, and whatnot. Please forgive me, Wonwoo. If I had known earlier, I would've..."

"It's okay, Y/N," he consoled you with a sad smile. "You didn't know. Sometimes our experiences can outweigh our perceptions about someone. But I'm glad you know now. I don't even know why I wanted to bare my soul to you. I've never even talked about this so openly with Eleanor-"

He stopped mid-sentence, a hint of guilt in his eyes. "I shouldn't have mentioned her. I'm sorry."

You shook your head. "Why would you say that? Eleanor was a significant part of your life. I know the way it ended was unfortunate, but that doesn't mean everything was ruined. Sometimes memories are good, and some are bad, but that doesn't mean they aren't worth remembering and mentioning. It's up to us how we view them."

He chuckled, shaking his head. You raised an eyebrow, asking, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he said as he gently brought your hands, which were on his cheeks, and kissed your right palm. "I'm the older one, but it's always you saying the wiser things."

You rolled your eyes and remarked matter-of-factly, "If only people knew that wisdom has nothing to do with age."

"Yes, grandma," he teased, and you playfully punched his shoulder.

"I think we should sleep now."

"What time is it?"

"Oh my goodness, it's 2:00 a.m."

You lay back down on your pillow, and Wonwoo wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest. You listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart and felt his fingers caressing your head and playing with your hair.

"Y/N," he spoke softly.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for listening to me. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest."

You turned onto your stomach and interlaced your fingers, resting your chin on his chest.

"I'm glad that whatever the reason, it led me to you and even Noel," he said as you gazed into his eyes. Wonwoo leaned in to plant a kiss on top of your head.

At that moment, with his warm presence embracing you, the circuits of your brain seemed to go haywire. Thoughts and memories flooded in.

Part 4

#Aquamarine chapter 8 #I already feel like killing myself

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bangtanhoneys · 1 year ago

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Grace & Min-Ji: The story of how they came to be

Everyone in BTS had a pet at one point. Taehyung had Yeontan, Namjoon had Monie, Yoongi had Holly, Hobi had Mickey, Jin had three sugar gliders as well as a Jjangu and Jungkook had Gureum then Bam and Jimin had his childhood pet Ddosun.

Grace, however, never had any pets growing up. She had been content to deal with friends' pets, getting cuddles from the BTS pets or animals on set. And the break came. She had more time on her hands now and since she was living completely separately now to her bandmates, she was starting to feel a bit lonely.

She needed a pet that would be independent but easy to look after, considering she would have to give the pet to her parents to look after at one point. After discussions with her parents and Jin, a cat was decided on. But Grace being Grace, she didn’t want just a pretty cat who would look good on Instagram.

Her eyes had been on getting a Maine-coon cat - a massive feline with a powerful yet muscular athletic body with large pointed ears and thick fluffy fur. Little tufts of fur on their ears and paws and their tail would be at least as long as their body. Sociable, extremely intelligent and active.

So the hunt began.

There was a breeder in Busan who bred cats from Malaysia and they happened to have a few kittens as well as adult cats for sale. Grace had been keeping an eye on their Facebook page since they announced the cats were available and it didn’t take much convincing to get Jin in the car and for a short road trip to Busan.

“All this way for a cat,” Jin had grumbled but had packed a bag anyway and filled up the car without much sighing. While he didn’t feel the need to have a pet, he knew in a year that he would be in the military and Grace would be on her own.

She had seen a white cat in the background of a video, completely ignoring the fact that someone was trying to film it. It moved easily around the other cats, unbothered, content to climb up the cat tower and lick its large paws. That was the one she had her eyes on.

Being two members of BTS allowed private access to the cattery and Jin found himself surrounded by cats of different sizes and types.

��I guess you're a pussy magnet,” Grace quipped with a sly grin. The shocked gasp from the man in question made her laugh as she headed in the direction of the cat that had caught her eye from the beginning.

There he was, completely chill and not bothered by the two strangers in the room. He lounged on the windowsill, tail waving lazily against the breeze as he stared out the window. Quietly and trying not to spook him, Grace sat down against the wall the window was on and simply waited.

It was as if he knew his presence was needed because the white cat stood and stretched and turned around to use Grace’s shoulders to get down and straight into her lap where he curled up into a ball.

“I take it he’s the one,” Jin asked as he came over, completely covered in cat hair yet he couldn’t help but grin at the amazed smile on Grace’s face. He knew she had fallen head over heels for the feline.

“I think I’ve been chosen instead.”

The paperwork took an hour and a little visit to the vet on the way, but Grace came home with the white cat she wanted and named on the spot.

Min-ji.

#gracechuasks #bts 8th member #bts additional member #bts eighth member #bts female member #bts fic

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darkmaga-returns · 2 months ago

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Doug’s fresh from a trip across Southeast Asia, and in today’s episode, we dive into the contrasts between East and West. From the comparative pristine streets of Thailand to the hotel standards in Malaysia, Doug lays out why he believes that part of the world is the place to be – and what that means for those of us still dealing with the decay of Western cities.

We also get into some historical events of the day, from Encyclopedia Britannica’s pages to an old encounter with Sean Connery. And for anyone keeping an eye on the bond markets and the dollar, we’ve got a few cautionary tales. From Yellen’s bizarre “omen” during a press conference to bank losses that dwarf those of 2008, the signs for the dollar aren’t good.

Get comfortable; this episode is packed with Doug’s classic take on culture, opportunities in oddball markets, and a sobering look at the U.S. financial system’s fragile state.

Timestamps

00:00 - Introduction and Doug’s return from Asia

01:00 - Encyclopedia Britannica and today's historical events

03:00 - Halloween, secularization, and cultural shifts

05:00 - Doug’s experience almost meeting Sean Connery

08:00 - Doug’s reflections on Southeast Asia: Malaysia and Thailand

10:00 - Qatar and Emirates: Observations on airline quality

12:00 - Comparing infrastructure and service quality in Asia vs. the U.S.

15:00 - Discussing Sri Lanka's economy and opportunities

17:30 - Reflections on speculative opportunities in Sri Lanka

19:30 - Arthur C. Clarke’s connection to Sri Lanka

22:00 - Discussion on bond markets and the current U.S. financial climate

24:00 - Banking sector risks and bond yield trends

26:30 - The cost of elder care in Southeast Asia vs. the U.S.

30:00 - Social Security, Medicare, and U.S. budget challenges

32:00 - Reflections on upcoming U.S. elections and economic trajectory

34:30 - "Civil War" movie review and implications for U.S. stability

37:00 - Living through crisis: Ukraine and Sri Lanka analogies

38:30 - Tribute to Gonzalo Lira

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choti12 · 10 months ago

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Finding the Ideal Time to Explore Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Kuala Lumpur, the vibrant capital city of Malaysia, is a melting pot of cultures, cuisines, and architectural wonders. From towering skyscrapers to bustling street markets, there's something for every traveler in this dynamic metropolis. However, to make the most of your visit, it's essential to consider the best time to explore Kuala Lumpur. Let's delve into the factors that influence the ideal timing for your trip.

Weather Considerations: Kuala Lumpur experiences a tropical rainforest climate, characterized by hot and humid conditions throughout the year. The city receives rainfall almost daily, but the intensity varies across different months. The dry season, from May to September, offers relatively clearer skies and lower precipitation levels, making it an ideal time for outdoor activities and sightseeing.

Avoiding the Monsoon Season: The wet season in Kuala Lumpur typically occurs from October to March, with November and December being the wettest months. Heavy rainfall during this period may disrupt outdoor plans and sightseeing, leading to inconvenience for travelers. Thus, it's advisable to avoid visiting Kuala Lumpur during the peak of the monsoon season to ensure a more enjoyable experience.

Festivals and Events: Kuala Lumpur hosts a myriad of cultural festivals, events, and celebrations throughout the year, offering visitors a chance to immerse themselves in the local culture and traditions. From the colorful Thaipusam festival at Batu Caves to the dazzling Chinese New Year festivities in Chinatown, each event adds a unique flavor to the city's vibrant atmosphere. Planning your visit to coincide with these festivals can provide an enriching cultural experience.

Peak Tourist Seasons: The influx of tourists in Kuala Lumpur tends to peak during certain periods, such as school holidays and major events. The months of December and January, as well as July and August, witness a surge in tourist arrivals, leading to crowded attractions and higher accommodation rates. Travelers seeking a more relaxed atmosphere may opt to visit during the shoulder seasons, such as April to June and September to November.

Outdoor Activities and Excursions: If you're interested in outdoor adventures or exploring Kuala Lumpur's natural attractions, consider visiting during the dry season when weather conditions are more favorable. From hiking in the nearby rainforests to exploring the city's parks and gardens, the dry months offer ample opportunities for outdoor pursuits without the threat of sudden downpours.

Budget and Travel Deals: Timing your visit to Kuala Lumpur can also impact your travel expenses, as accommodation rates and airfare prices may vary depending on the season. By researching and booking in advance, you can take advantage of early bird discounts and special promotions, allowing you to enjoy a budget-friendly trip to the Malaysian capital.

Conclusion: Choosing the best time to visit Kuala Lumpur involves considering various factors, including weather patterns, cultural events, and tourist trends. Whether you prefer to explore the city's iconic landmarks, indulge in culinary delights, or immerse yourself in its vibrant culture, planning your trip accordingly can enhance your overall experience. By understanding the nuances of Kuala Lumpur's seasons and festivities, you can embark on a memorable journey filled with exploration, discovery, and cultural immersion in this captivating metropolis.

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goltravel · 11 months ago

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What are all Inclusive Maldives Packages?

The Maldives, a picturesque tropical haven nestled in the heart of the Indian Ocean, has long been synonymous with luxury and tranquility. With its crystal-clear turquoise waters, overwater bungalows, and vibrant coral reefs, it's no wonder that the Maldives is a dream destination for many. If you're contemplating a visit to this paradise on Earth, exploring the allure of an all-inclusive Maldives package might be the key to unlocking an unforgettable experience.

The Allure of All-Inclusive

A trip to the Maldives is not just a vacation; it's an escape into serenity. Opting for an all-inclusive package ensures that your focus remains on relaxation and exploration rather than the nitty-gritty details of expenses. From accommodation to meals, activities to amenities, an all-inclusive package provides a seamless and stress-free experience.

Overwater Bliss

One of the standout features of Maldivian resorts is the array of overwater bungalows. Imagine waking up to the gentle lapping of waves beneath your private villa, surrounded by endless shades of blue. All-inclusive packages often grant access to these exclusive accommodations, letting you indulge in the luxury of unparalleled ocean views and direct water access.

Culinary Delights

Maldivian cuisine is a tantalizing blend of flavors influenced by Indian, Sri Lankan, and Arabic traditions. All-inclusive packages frequently include a diverse range of dining options, allowing you to savor local delicacies and international cuisine. Picture yourself dining under the stars, enjoying fresh seafood, and relishing the essence of Maldivian culture through its gastronomy.

Underwater Wonders

Beyond the sandy shores, the Maldives boasts an underwater kingdom teeming with marine life. Snorkeling and diving experiences are often part of all-inclusive packages, providing you with the opportunity to explore vibrant coral reefs, encounter majestic manta rays, and witness the kaleidoscope of colors in the underwater world.

Sunset Cruises and Spa Retreats

As the day transitions to evening, a quintessential Maldivian experience is a sunset cruise. Many all-inclusive packages include these mesmerizing excursions, allowing you to bask in the beauty of the Maldivian sunset from the deck of a traditional dhoni boat. Additionally, indulge in rejuvenating spa treatments, often part of the comprehensive packages, ensuring your escape is as therapeutic as it is idyllic.

In Conclusion

Choosing an all-inclusive Maldives package is not just a practical decision; it's a commitment to a seamless and indulgent journey. From overwater luxury to culinary delights, underwater adventures to sunset serenades, the Maldives, with its all-inclusive charm, promises a vacation that transcends the ordinary. We are Gol Travels dealing with Maldives, Lakshadweep, Thailand, Indonesia and Malaysia

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littlewalken · 2 years ago

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TIL that Daniel Vangarde (Bangalter) went from being banned on French radio to seeing his son win album of the year and more at the Grammys. He was there when Daft Punk won everything.

Now I got to go look at the Grammy footage and see if I can see him.

transcript of the Bilboard.com article:

Daniel Vangarde, Father Of Daft Punk’s Thomas Bangalter & Disco Innovator, Breaks His Silence

From his home in Brazil, the 75-year-old legend reflects on being banned from French radio, the best advice he gave to Daft Punk and the re-release of his catalog: "I think I will not die."

Daniel Vangarde has lived a fascinating life. He’s lived at least three of them, in fact.

His first act was as a producer, A&R and all-around catalyst for some of the most popular European disco and funk acts of the 1970s and ’80s, shifting millions of copies. Since the late 2000s he’s been residing and working in a Brazilian village of 750 people, teaching English, computer literacy, vocational skills and a range of artistic expression.

Somewhere in the middle he fathered a son, Thomas Bangalter, who also made some decent records himself.

Vangarde (born Bangalter) helped guide the early movements of Daft Punk, at a time when the pre-Homework duo had magic in their fingertips but hadn’t yet mastered the close control of image and narrative which forged their mystique. Vangarde doled out critical advice to Thomas, Guy-Manuel and a coterie of close friends in the ’90s Parisian scene, instilling in them the requisite knowledge to play the industry game on their own terms and better enabling them to sculpt their consequential destiny.

Then followed a high-profile battle with France’s publishing and rights society, SACEM, over both restrictive practices for modern artists and historical aberrations for post-World War II remuneration to Jewish musicians. Sufficiently content with both his own success and the imprint he left on the next generation, Vangarde retreated into silence, only fleetingly emerging when required (including a trip to the 2014 Grammy Awards, where he watched his son clean up). There were no plans to issue communiqués with the music ecosystem �� until now.

Following a deal with powerhouse French label Because Music, the vaults of Vangarde’s Zagora Records have been busted open. The resultant compilation, Daniel Vanguarde: The Vaults of Zagora Records Mastermind (1971 - 1984), out Nov. 25 on Because Music, should re-situate him in a lineage of discotheque-pleasers with a taste for suave, symphonic and Star Wars-influenced material that bristles with joie de vivre. The comp is surprisingly tight for an era which left no excess untested; it’s not a stretch to say, from the colorway of his suit down to his perm, the Daniel Vangarde peering out from the cover might just have been the model for Disco Stu.

Having undertaken the grand sum of zero English-language interviews for 75 years, Vangarde made himself available to Billboard from the deep Bahian forests for an extremely rare and rather charming conversation about it all.

One thing that’s clear across your life is a fascination with culture and society outside of your own. You produced artists from the French Antilles and the West Indies, kickstarted a cossack dance craze in the late ’60s, and latterly founded an NGO. Where does this curiosity stem from?

I always liked traveling: I spent 10 summers of my adolescence in Costa Brava [Spain], visited Swinging London, and in 1966 hitchhiked from New York down to Mexico in order to visit the Tarahumara. Life felt like an adventure.

In 1971, I happened upon Guadeloupe and loved it — the people, the place, and the local rhythmic music, biguine, which I took back to work on in Paris. Throughout trips to Kathmandu, Bali and Malaysia in the ’70s, my love for African, Arabian, South American and other music outside the French or Anglo-Saxon tradition kept growing.

What were your dreams for the world back then?

Ah, that is easy. I was curious about the globe and completely against war. I was politically active from a young age. I was arrested during the student revolution in ’68 and spent three nights in a jail cell without light. That was very frightening. They say there were no deaths but I am certain this is untrue, there was great violence. For years afterward I had to cross the street whenever I saw a policeman, you know?

You had post-traumatic stress?

Yes, yes, it was this: it was post-traumatic stress. But I stayed against nuclear factories, against the Algerian War and successfully avoided my own military service. I did not change my point of view that mass consumption is a dead-end of civilization. In 1968, we had spiritual belief in a more open future. Today we have realism about our present moment, and that is what it is.

When you were 25, you and longtime collaborator Jean Kluger came up with Yamasuki, a faux-Japanese project whose only release is still pored over by record collectors and DJs like Four Tet. Why did you decide to jump into the deep end with such a specific concept?

Listen to this article

After the success of “Casatschok,” I was mostly considered a choreographer. Shows about kung fu were beginning to sweep through television, so Kluger and I thought about creating a Japanese dance, which we called Yamasuki, but the great sound of the music caught on more. We really got into a Japanese mindset: I bought an English-to-Japanese phrasebook, we learned phonetic pronunciation and taught a children’s choir lyrics in Japanese. We even hired a karate master to deliver a shout of death [kiai] — except he had no sense of rhythm, so I would stand in the studio, cueing him when to shout… and trembling on the other side of the mic.

As disco became popular globally, and you had French artists like Cerrone winning Grammy Awards for Best New Artist, was there any competition or jealousy? Or did you regard them as your peers?

Peers, totally. There was no competition at all. If there was any competition, in fact, it was with American and English production. I never used a mastering studio; I would be there at the Phillips factory, watching the acetate get pressed, making sure the sound was impeccable. Cerrone, he was not a friend, but we would see each other at the discotheques when taking our new records to the DJ for promotion. The same applies for Jacques Morali {the disco producer responsible for the Village People] — at this time, for the French to have success away from home was a great feeling.

Some of the records you worked on were massive. “D.I.S.C.O.” was the third biggest-seller of 1980 in Germany and the fifth in the UK; the Gibson Brothers sold millions of copies; you’ve been sampled and covered by Erykah Badu, Bananarama, Roger Sanchez — it’s a legacy of success by any other name. Did that come as a surprise to you?

I will say that when I started to make songs, I wanted to write to The Beatles and tell them that there should be five members. [Laughs] I was this certain that I could bring something to them. I imagine that maybe everybody that records hopes that his music will be understood and appreciated by the public. But even if I was expecting success, I recognize it’s a great privilege to live your life off of music.

What was your relationship to fame throughout all this?

I only did one LP as a frontman, which had the privilege of being banned on radio and television. The lyrics concerned how France is the third biggest producer of bombs and mines. Of course, that’s a state secret, so the record was buried, and I was never a frontman again. But that’s alright: I was an author, composer and producer; an artisan. I sought no fame, no show business. A reporter asked me recently: “So you live your life in the shadows?” And I said, “No! I live in the light, normally, like you do.”

Interest in the Zagora reissue is however fun to me, because I was not fashionable at all. I produced La Compagnie Créole, a very big band in the ’80s, and we could sell out three nights at L’Olympia but I could never once get a journalist to come see the show. That’s just how it was then. If it’s not chanson, it’s not serious. In France, popular music is suspicious.

By the time your career wound down around 1990, was the love for music still present? Was it a creative rupture or a decision to be with your family?

Truthfully, I was not producing music that excited me, and I thought it unwise to carry on. When making a hit my hands would become wet while mixing, and a physical sensation would overtake my belly. So if I was not feeling anything, why would anyone else? Also, there was a new generation doing dance music, and of course this was very close for me.

Yes, on that note… perhaps no one in the last 10 years has done more to kickstart the revival of disco and analog production than your son, Thomas. Why do you think that era has swept back into the public consciousness?

I can see why. Nothing replaces rhythm. Songs that you can dance to, with a melody you can sing — not rap, not techno, not even Daft Punk can compete with this human response to a good feeling. There are different chapels today: you have country radio, rap radio, rock radio, but the old repertoire has maintained.

What aggregates the masses are famous hits, and disco was the last of this kind of music. When they decided that disco was over and they started to burn the records [1979’s infamous bonfire of hate, Disco Demolition], I thought it was a joke, because I never thought happy, dancing music could possibly fade. And when disco came back, I realized it hadn’t faded after all.

Your know-how helped ground not only a young Daft Punk, but also their peers Phoenix and Air, all of whom credit your advice with allowing them to navigate the music biz and retain creative freedom.

I think all artists should have this freedom. I helped Thomas, Guy-Man and their friends as much as I could to allow them to release without barriers. They were only 20 years old and the industry could have squeezed them — a normal contract generates interference between your work and the time it’s released. I made an introduction to my English lawyer, who is still [Daft Punk’s] lawyer today, and advised them not to let the author’s rights society in France authorize their music for film or publicity. My input was to help create a good environment that allowed them to produce freely.

Do you think the industry is a better place for young artists now than it was in the ’90s, or the ’70s? Or is it contingent on who you are?

That’s difficult to say. I think the music industry is in a terrible situation, not because of the internet, but because record companies and publishers didn’t know how to use the internet. When I helped Thomas set up Daft Club [a groundbreaking hub for digital downloads and fan service, released in tandem with 2001’s Discovery] even then, many considered the internet science fiction for geeks. And what was the result?

They should have contracted the hackers! The best guy from Napster should have been contracted by record companies to organize a new paid system. At a time when people paid $10-20 for an LP, of course they would have accepted paying $1 instead. But the industry did nothing, music became like free air, and once the value collapsed to zero for many years, it was hard to come back from this.

In the ’70s, the artistic directors of a record company or programmers of a radio station held all the control. So I didn’t think it was good then. But I can’t say it’s better today either. It’s difficult for true talent to break through or generate wealth in the same fashion as before.

As you’ve never given interviews, your working practice from that era is lost. I mean — Bangalter now rings with a uniqueness and star quality, so why did you use Vangarde as your professional surname?

I wanted to allow future Thomas to use Bangalter! No, I chose a pen name in case I had success; I did not wish to book a hotel or restaurant and be recognized. Why Vangarde? Originally I had prepared Morane, the name of a small French plane in the early 1900s. But on the day of registration with SACEM, this was already taken, so I was given one minute to change. I quickly thought of another plane called the Vanguard, and this stuck by complete accident.

You’ve been distant from your own catalog for so long. Why now?

I’m afraid it’s not very romantic. I have known Emmanuel [de Buretel, kingpin of French electronic music] since he was 25. When Because Music showed interest in buying Zagora Records and releasing some old tracks, I trusted them, and said, “You’ll be the owner of the catalog, so if you want to, yes.” As I have never done photos or interviews, I did not expect interest at all. I could even not remember some of their choices, so I had to go on YouTube and listen back as I was certain these were not my songs! To see any reaction has been a huge shock. Because made a very good decision.

So you never considered what you’d like your legacy to be?

I think I will not die. I have songs that I did 50 years ago that are still popular. If people are happy when they hear the songs and go to dance, or go to see the bands still touring, they do not die. This is the answer of my legacy.

And are you satisfied?

Yes, I’m very happy. I have the privilege to do what I want, and a good personal life… in the shadows. [Laughs] I have a good relationship with Thomas and now I have two grandchildren. One is 20 years old and the other is 14 — I love them. I go on being free and having my health. What more can I ask for?

#daft punk #thomas bangalter #daniel vangarde

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