#dame talks fallen london | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aquariusrunes · 5 years ago

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The Superfriends AU (part 9)

The flashes were blinding and the large lights heated the room like a sauna. His palms were moist with sweat as he reached up and pulled at his collar. Colin had not been this nervous this morning. And Damian of course, said he had nothing to be nervous about when he had started to feel anxious. But he did. He’d obviously been too tired to properly panic when Violet dropped off the outfit he was currently wearing, this morning.

It had started when he unzipped the black garment bag. The intricate details embroidered on the expensive fabric immediately caught his eye and sent up the most alarming red flags. He’d never worn anything so expensive. Not even the suits Mr. Wayne had gotten tailored to his form for the handful of galas Damian had taken him to, cost as much as his current outfit.

The next anxiety laced arrow to hit him was when Damian had pointed out that Colin and Edna had yet to hold a real conversation. Their interactions with one another had completely ceased after his boyfriend’s introductions were finished.

And then there was Edna’s ability to influence Damian. She was one of the few members of his family he let himself be pushed around by. He willingly did her bidding as well as valued her opinion. And Colin had thought making sure Marinette had a good opinion of him was important, only to find out that Edna’s had more weight.

Now he stood sandwiched between the small woman who essentially invented fashion and one of the richest men in the world. Bruce had pated Colin on the shoulder when he first walked up to the two, a silent reassurance to the obviously panicked boy. The intimidating man now stood straight, shoulders squared with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were not on his son, who was currently up on a platform surrounded by fake trees, instead his dark eyes had a strange shadow cast over them, reminding Colin of the man’s alter ego. He was carefully surveying the room, analyzing everyone who fell under his intense gaze.

On Colin’s right stood his boyfriend’s great aunt, her stance near identical to her nephew's. Her eyes were trained on Damian, unlike the boy’s father whose gaze was roaming the room. However, her glare was no less intimidating or fear inducing. Though, Colin couldn’t exactly blame the woman for her current enraged expression.

His eyes went back to his boyfriend, Damian was dressed in a top that resembled a toga, the one strap tank consisting of billowy semi-sheer fabric, tucked into slim dark grey pants, that Edna had whispered to him were a cigarette style. He also wore a well fitted silver blazer, the material of which was lighter than the pants. His face covered in metallic silver and soft brown makeup, he was too far to really see the details the makeup artist had done, but he could see an intricately drawn crescent moon done in silver eyeliner on Damian’s right cheek, as well as the matte midnight blue lipstick.

His hair had been wetted and dried a number of times before it was curled to Edna’s satisfaction. Now every time there was a pause in the camera’s flashes, a tall blonde woman would step up onto the platform and use a spray bottle to dampen Damian’s hair and then restyle it. Every time she tried to touch him though, he would aggressively react both physically and verbally. Colin had picked up on a few older female oriented insults, his boyfriend had a knack for talking like he just time traveled from Victorian London. The darker skinned boy eventually resorted to batting the bottle out of the woman’s grip as well as slapping her hands away.

Beyond the problems he was having with the stylist, Damian was also getting difficult with the photographer. Not necessarily on purpose, but Edna was still less than pleased.

Damian was a very handsome boy, not exactly what one would consider classically handsome, but his features were undeniably attractive. His naturally neutral expression was extremely attractive, and gave off an air of aloofness and mystery that most girls their age found irresistible. But very few people were aware of just how stunning the boy’s smile could be. Not the fake polite one he showed interviewers or those he couldn't be bothered with but had to interact with often enough to the point that forced him to be courteous. His real smile was absolutely breathtaking.

The photographer had been trying to get that breathtaking expression for about ten minutes. Colin could see how the man was grating on his boyfriend's nerves. Edna and the photographer were becoming increasingly frustrated as well, which was totally understandable in the redhead's mind. But he was sure that if either of them snapped at Damian the boy would storm out in a frustrated huff.

Poor Angel, he really was trying. He just had difficulty relaxing to the point where his natural smile could be displayed. He carried far too much tension around for sixteen year old, even with all his extracurriculars.

Colin watched the blonde woman fight against Damian once again, his bangs had fallen into his eyes and she needed to correct them. His boyfriend’s palm raised, slapping the purple spray bottle out of her hand, it bounced off the platform and rolled towards Colin, Edna, and Mr. Wayne.

It caused Bruce to let a low chuckle break from his lips, which took Colin far too much by surprise. He’d actually forgotten that his boyfriend’s father had been standing there. The wealthy man looked down at his Aunt’s unamused expression. “I did warn you about working with him.”

“Yes.” She grumbled. “Forgive me for having faith that a sixteen year old could stand not to act like a child for thirty minutes or so.” Her arms crossed tightly over her body. “Honestly, why are your boys always so difficult?”

“They aren’t difficult,” Bruce defended. “Just...different.”

Edna rolled her eyes at the man.

“Different, sure.” She huffed. “Luckily, I planned for Damian’s ‘differentness’ and have a solution at the ready.”

Bruce cocked his eyebrow, giving his aunt a questioning look. She smiled up at him before her gaze lowered to Colin, the boy’s face coated in just as much confusion as Bruce’s. “Colin dahling.” The woman walked forwards several steps, leaning down and picking up the purple bottle. “Come here please.” She motioned at him with a curl of her fingers and he was quick to follow her, doing as told like a little soldier.

“Yes ms-” He stopped himself. “Edna.” He finally said.

She smiled, patting his hand. “Colin could you be a dear and go help Damian with his hair?” The ginger tilted his head, looking back at the blonde woman as she stomped off the platform. Another series of flashes fired, as Damian positioned himself in whatever way the photographer told him to.

“His hair?” Colin asked. “I think it looks fine.” Truthfully he did. He wished Damian would wear it curly more often, but knew how unprofessional his boyfriend felt when he did.

“Could you just go push his bangs back and use the spray bottle to help his hair curl a little more. Please dahling, it would be a big help.” Edna held the bottle out to Colin.

“Um…” Colin looked back at Damian as another flash went off. “I guess?” He questioned. “Right now?”

His hands slowly took the purple bottle. “No no, in just a moment, when I walk over to look at the shots we have so far.”

“Yes ma’am.” Colin turned from the woman, facing Damian’s platform. His perplexed look melting away and being replaced with a smile as he saw Damian push his own bangs back, only for them to fall back into his eyes without the assistance of his ever precious hair gel.

He only had to wait a moment before Edna patted him on the shoulder before swaggering over to the photographer. Colin was quick to hop up onto the platform and over to his boyfriend, who looked less than pleased. His face was set in a scowl and his arms were tightly crossed. The closer Colin got though the more of the makeup he could make out. Damian’s eyes were traced in metallic off white eyeliner, the shade only varying slightly from the moon drawn on his cheek, and a range of soft browns were used for his eyeshadow. The color pellet suited him extremely well.

“You know,” He began, getting Damian’s attention. “You’re making this way more difficult than it has to be.”

Damian didn’t respond, he just rolled his eyes, directing his gaze elsewhere.

“It’d all go a lot quicker if you cooperated. It’d also be less painful too.” Once Colin was properly in front of his boyfriend he took note of the glitter highlighting his cheekbones, as well as a chain earrings that had been hooked onto his right ear, and a thick silver choker that resembled something out of the greek myths themselves around Damian’s neck.

Damian gave Colin a rather dry unamused look. “If that woman would stop touching me, everyone would be in less pain.”

“Dames,” Colin breathed. “She’s a stylist, it’s literally her job to touch you.” He rested his free hand on his hip. “She is getting paid to come up here and make sure that you continually look perfect throughout this shoot.”

The boy only huffed turning his head away once again.

“Your aunt is getting a little frustrated with you as well.” Colin’s gaze drifted across the room towards the woman. She was sitting in front of a computer with the tall balding photographer, neither seemed happy with the shots they had so far. Edna’s eyes slowly traveled up, locking onto Colin’s. It nearly gave him a heart attack.

He turned his attention back to his boyfriend. “I’m gonna spray you with this,” He held up the bottle. “And mess with your hair.” Damian’s eyebrow quirked up. “If you slap my hand, I will punch you in the face.”

Damian’s shoulders visibly tensed when the mist fell over him, but he relaxed once Colin moved to brush his bangs back. While a little less tense, the boy still stood incredibly still, almost like a statue. Colin’s hands moved quickly, doing his best to mimic how the first hair stylist had shaped Damian’s hair before the shoot had started. It didn’t look perfect but it looked better than it did when his bangs were hanging in his face. In fact, once Colin was done it started looking more messy, resembling the boy’s rare bedhead after a sleepless night. But it looked good, at least in Colin’s opinion.

He couldn’t stop his laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He snickered, running his fingers through Damian’s curls, repositioning them. “You should really consider wearing it curly more often.” He whispered.

“Absolutely not.” Damian was quick to refuse, but couldn’t stop the corner of his lips from quirking up. “Why are you up here anyway?” He asked.

Colin smirked as he continued his work. “Board of me already babe?”

Damian rolled his eyes, gaze dropped to the ground as he willed his blush to fade. He wasn’t great with nicknames, not when Colin used them. Shortenings of his name was fine, but it always got to him when more traditional pet names were used by his boyfriend. “No.” He muttered. “Just curious, after all Edna was rather clear about you and Jon not interfering while I work.”

“Your aunt asked me to come fix your hair.” Colin shrugged. “Probably because she knew you wouldn’t be near as cranky with me.”

“I am not being cranky.” The boy bit back, earning an unamused look from his freckled boyfriend.

“Dames.”

“I don’t like people touching me Colin, she knew this when she asked me to be her model.” Colin rolled his eyes, hands moving out of his boyfriend’s hair.

“Yeah, but you're also very mature for your age and should be able to suck it up for thirty minutes or so.” Colin crossed his arms. “Seriously Dames, this isn’t like a crowd of Wayne Ward Fangirls trying to grope you on the street. That woman is trying to do her job and by you being cranky, it’s making everything run very inefficient.”

“Are you implying I’m a bad model?”

“Course not.” The redhead sighed. “I’m implying that you’re acting like a child and it’s not cute.” He gave a small smile. “But other than your attitude, you’re doing a very good job.” Colin leaned forward and peck Damian’s cheek, the one not coated in eyeliner. “Just smile a little more.”

Colin turned, hopping off the platform, and turning back to watch once he was far enough to not be in the shot. He flashed the mixed race boy a blinding smile once he was out of the way and gave him a thumbs up. Damian returned the gesture with a soft smile, not noticing the flashes of the camera as he watched his boyfriend who, after a few minutes, started to make utterly ridiculous faces.

Edna and Bruce watched from their previous spot. Positions the same, backs straight, shoulders square, hands clasped behind them. Edna’s face cracked into a self satisfied smirk. Bruce’s eyes watching the scene before him critically.

“So that’s why Colin’s here.” He finally said.

“Fail safes are important dahling.”

“What would you have done if Damian hadn’t brought him along?”

“Please,” Edna looked up at her nephew. “Who do you think gave him the idea to invite the boy?”

…

Marinette watched her cousin and his boyfriend retreat down the hallway, Colin’s arms wound around one of Damian’s. The boy had mentioned in the elevator that he needed to go feed Titus and would be down in the cafeteria once he was finished. Colin quickly volunteered to go with him. Marinette assumed it was because of how moody Damian had gotten towards the end of the photoshoot. She could practically see the negative energy radiating off the boy. Jon and Chloé, who had also been in the elevator went straight to the Mode cafeteria. Marinette and Adrien had gotten off on the floor with all of their rooms like Colin and Damian. Marinette making the excuse that she needed to call her mom and Adrien saying he forgot something in his room.

Once she saw her cousin’s form round the corner of the hall she turned back around to look and see if Adrien had gone into his room yet or not. The door with a large number seven on it was firmly close, the blonde nowhere in sight. She turned back to her own door, took in a large breath to steal her nerves, then turned the knob and walked into the suite.

The room was large with a queen sized bed against a wall of floor to ceiling windows, the sheer black curtains were drawn currently. There was a fireplace in her room on the opposite wall, the one that her door was on. It was an electrical insert and so didn’t require a chimney. There was a flat screen tv above it and two red chairs in front of it. A silver rack was against the mainly empty wall, holding her mass of black garment bags. The west wall was mainly taken up by a large dresser vanity combo, which her accessory trunk was currently in front of.

Her room had been mostly left undisturbed since she first arrived, save for the bed, which she had messily made that morning. Mostly everything in the room was well organized, especially her garments and accessories to make things a little less stressful for her during the hectic week.

The large white comforter of her bed was wrinkled and had been pulled towards the center of the mattress, creating something that resembled a nest. In front of the mass of blankets, propped up on a couple of pillows was her tablet. Her nerves were on fire, but she still managed a smile when the head of her kawami popped up from behind the piece of technology. The small creature was quick to pause whatever video she had been watching, most likely a telenovela she had found on one of the streaming services Marinette’s family subscribed too. The girl had discovered relatively soon after becoming the wielder of the ladybug miraculous that the creature had a bit of an addiction to the television genre.

“Marinette!” Tikki beamed, flying up to her holder. “How is the photoshoot going?”

“Well…” Her smile tightened. “Well.” She reiterated. “I think it’s going well. Aunt E is unbelievably specific.” Marinette’s hands clutched the fabric of her sweatpants before releasing it, she repeated this process a few times. “She made some intern repaint a handful of leaves on a fake tree because it wasn't mossy enough. She also made a girl cry this morning, sooo we’ve been off to an interesting start.”

“Did you have to take your earrings off?” The tiny god asked, eyes large, searching her wielder’s face. She didn’t sound angry, necessarily, but Marinette knew she would be if she lied.

The bluenette bit down on her lower lip, gaze fluttering down to the floor. “Yes.” She said, voice laced with a heavy sigh. “But only for thirty minutes or so.”

“Marinette...” The kawami sighed.

“Edna was insistent I wear her earrings!” The girl quickly defended. “I tried Tikki, I really did but she was so-so...insistent.”

The small god stared at her obviously anxious choice. “That was very dangerous Marinette.” Her voice was still very gentle in nature.

“I know.” Marinette kept her eyes on her feet. “And I’m sorry, really sorry.”

Tikki was quiet for a long moment before letting out a large breath, flying a little closer to the girl. “You’ll have to have them off again for the rest of the shoot, won’t you?”

“Again, I am so sorry.”

“Marinette, having the earrings off is very dangerous.” Tikki reiterated. “Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

“Of course I do.” Marinette scrunched her hands into her sweatpants again. “But I did think up a plan!” She added quickly. “Since I have to take them off again, I’m going to hide them here in my room. That way you can watch over them and they aren’t floating around in a room full of strangers.”

Tikki floated back down onto the bed. “I suppose that would be the best option. Do you know where you’ll hi-” A very solid knock came from her door, just two taps, but Marinette already knew who would be behind it. She walked to the door, then turned about to tell Tikki she wouldn’t need to hide, but the god had already vanished.

She opened the door, revealing one Adrien Agreste, a sheepish smile on his face. “Is yours half as mad as mine?” He asked as Marinette stepped aside, letting him into the room before shutting the door behind him.

“I’d say more disappointed, but I haven’t told her everything yet.”

Adrien winced at her words. “I can come back later once you have.” He offered, to which Marinette gave him a look.

“Definitely not.”

“Damn.”

“What happened to pretending it didn’t happen?” Suddenly Tikki was floating in the middle of the room again. “Acting like you didn’t know?! Not discussing it directly!?” The Kawami huffed. “Marinette there are only so many loopholes we can go through before you blatantly just break the rules!”

“I’m sorry!” Marinette whined. “But I didn’t know what to do!” She took several steps forward. “Edna made me take off my earrings and I had to give them to someone! I couldn’t just set them down somewhere and risk them getting stolen or falling on the floor or something! And yes, Edna offered to hold them or suggested I let Uncle Bruce do it but, full disclosure I don’t know if I trust either of them with a miraculous. Like Uncle Bruce is very curious and I just couldn’t risk it!” Both Adrien and Tikki were becoming mildly concerned with how red the girl was getting, her speech increasing in speed with every shade her face deepened in color. “And Edna well I just don’t think I could ever in good conscience hand the earrings over to her! I mean yes she knows but she doesn’t understand. And in the moment, I mean you have to agree that under those circumstances Adrien was the best option since we weren’t taking photos together. But we’ll have to after lunch so I told him I had a plan and so I’m going to hide our mirac-”

“PIGTAILS!” Marinette physically jumped back, colliding with the dresser. A small black cat like creature floating before her. “Take a breath girl.” He said. “Seriously, you’re going to pass out.” The creature turned his head towards Tikki. “Does she do this a lot?”

“It’s not a common occurrence, but it isn’t necessarily uncommon.” The red god replied.

“Good grief.” The black creature mumbled. “Look Pigtails, we aren’t mad. Under the circumstances, you did the best you could. Sometimes unpredictable stuff like this happens. I’m honestly surprised the kid’s pops hasn’t made him take the ring off during a photoshoot yet.”

“Marinette,” Adrien finally spoke. “You remember Plagg, right?”

The girl’s eyes were still wide, her heart rate still slowing form the shock that had just pulsed through her body. “Y-yeah. I remember him.”

“The two of you being aware of one another’s identities and interacting with each others miraculouses as civilians, it complicates things and if the past is anything to go by, makes things exceedingly more difficult. It’s why we find it better to keep personal things a secret. But I’m sure the guardian's already talked you through all of this stuff.”

Marinette nodded her head, taking a step forward.

“But,” Plagg let a breath out. “This is where we are now. And what’s most important is that the miraculouses are safe while the two of you can’t wear them. So, where’s this genius hiding spot of yours?”

“I-I’ll get it.” She mumbled, quickly darting across the room to where her portable sewing kit was.

Adrien and Tikki both kept their eyes locked on Plagg.

“That was surprisingly very insightful Plagg.” Tikki said, flying up to her partner.

“I can be smart!” He retorted. “I understand the importance of our miraculouses! I don’t just think about Cheese.”

“You just mainly think about it.” Adrien responded, pulling the tin of camembert out of his pocket and setting it down on the dresser.

“Well yeah.”

“Okay.” The three’s attention was directed towards Marinette as she sat down on the end of her bed, setting her now open sewing kit in her lap. Held tightly in her hands was a handmade Chat Noir doll.

“What is that?” Plagg asked.

“This,” Marinette held it up. “Is what I’m going to hide the miraculouses in.” She smiled, grabbing the small scissors out of her portable kit she flipped the doll on it’s side, looking for the seam before moving to cut it open.

“I-” Adrien’s head tilted. “I’m so confus-is that the doll Manon stole when she got akumatized?”

Marinette looked up at him, the doll’s side already open. “Yeah.” She blinked before digger her fingers into the doll to pull out some of the stuffing. “I didn’t really know what to do with them afterwards. I couldn’t just throw them away, so I put them all in a trunk. I let her play with them whenever I babysit. Well, Ladybug and Chat Noir don’t live in the trunk. They’re usually either on my desk or the shelf above my bed.”

Plagg had flown over and was now hovering above Marinette’s shoulder, Tikki sitting on her other one. “You’re going to put them inside of it?” The small black creature asked.

“Yup.”

“I have never seen either of those dolls in your room.” Adrien said, sitting down on the arm of one of the red chairs.

“That’s because I hide them when you come over.” She glanced up at him. “Last thing I needed was a nosy kitty teasing me about my dolls.”

“I am not nosy.”

“Adrien whenever Chat Noir is in my room about seventy-five percent of what he does is rummaged through my things.” She shot him a pointed look.

“I’m curious.”

“Your nosy.” The girl set the doll down in her lap on top of her sewing kit, she then reached up and carefully pulled out her earrings. She let out a sigh, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders as she slipped the jewelry inside the doll.

She then looked up at Adrien expectantly.

He stared at her for a long moment with blank eyes, blinking rapidly before finally asking. “Why’d you bring the Chat doll with you?”

Marinette’s cheeks tinted pink as she looked back down at the doll, she put some of the stuffing back in, that way the two miraculouses would be seperated. “I have my reasons.” She whispered.

“Sometimes when she’s trying to think things out she’ll talk to it.” Tikki supplied from Marinette’s shoulder. “The whole identity thing has been on her mind a lot lately so she’s been talking to him quite a bit.”

Marinette’s face grew more red as Plagg laughed. “That’s hilarious!” The creature cackled. “This one just confesses his undying love to the poster he has on the backside of his closet door.”

“Okay!” Adrien stood quickly, slipping his ring off his finger and placing it in Marinette’s waiting palm. “Let’s just hurry up and go get lunch.” He turned away from her quickly, trying to hide his own blush behind his hand.

Marinette silently slipped it into the doll, then replaced the rest of the stuffing. She was quick to thread a needle with some black thread then set to work repairing the doll.

Both Kawami’s watched the girl closely. “This is actually a pretty sound idea pigtails.” Plagg muttered. “Unless of course someone obsessed with dolls get akumatized. But Hawkmoth should be out of range so, we should be fine.”

Marinette hummed in agreement as she finished her stitch. “Good as new.” She whispered, twisting to set the doll in the middle of the small nest Tikki had made.

“Should we be worried that there aren’t any heroes in Paris right now?” The god of creation asked, unknowingly inciting panic in her chosen.

“Oh my god.” Marinette’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t have a lot of time before I left,” Adrien turned. “But I was able to get a message to Master Fu with Plagg’s help. So he knows we’re both gone.” Adrien stuck his hands into his pockets.

“If there’s trouble, then he’ll probably just call on one of the random holders you’ve been using every now and again.” Plagg added. “But I doubt Hawkmoth will try anything, and if he did, he'd probably call the akuma back once you two didn’t show.”

“That’s true.” Tikki whispered. “Not much use terrorizing Paris when the objects your after aren’t even there. Still though, now that you two are aware of one another’s identities, I implore you to avoid being out of the city at the same time in the future. Just in case.”

“Well it’s not like I planned on leaving.” Adrien said. “I found out like barely an hour before I boarded the plane to come here.”

“Just a tip for the future.” Tikki added.

“Are we watching Yo soy Betty, la fea?” The three looked back at the nest where Plagg had obviously made himself comfortable. “I love that show!” He looked up at Tikki excitedly. “Where are we right now?” He asked.

The Kawami sighed. “He’s staying here then?” She asked, looking between the two humans.

“We figured you’d both want to stay close to your miraculouses.” Marinette explained.

“And we also thought that since you two hadn't seen one another in awhile, you’d want to hang out and catch up.” He smiled sheepishly. “Do you mind?”

Tikki let out a small huff and rolled her eyes at the excited kitten rolling around in her nest. “I suppose not.” She slowly flew down and situated herself next to him. “But no cheese in my nest.”

“Ahh! Tikki! That’s not fair!”

…

It was so strange. Chloé Bourgeois, one of the most difficult and least liked people on the planet, a self given title, had only made two friends throughout her entire life. The first was Adrien, the two had known one another practically since they were in the womb. Literally. Emilie was pregnant on her wedding day, not that anyone save for maybe four people alive knew that, and Chloé was conceived after the reception. They’d always been pushed together, the girl’s mother lobbying hard for a relationship to bloom between the two. But Adrien was her oldest and dearest friend.

Sabrina was her second friend. She’d met her when she was ten. Chloé had made a girl at the park cry. The way Sabrina stared at her, eyes wide, drinking in the scene and raw emotions of anger and sadness radiating off the other two was one of the creepiest things Chloé has ever seen. So of course, she had yelled at Sabrina, she didn’t like the way she was being ogled at. The next day Sabrina had transferred into Chloé’s class. The ginger latched onto her, becoming a constant companion. Until Chloé tried to be better, then Sabrina moved on to Lila.

Yet, in under twenty-four hours Jon Kent had proclaimed himself her new best friend. She’d opened up to him more than anyone else she’d ever known, even her therapist of three years didn’t know as much about Chloé as this random boy from Kansas now did. And everytime she said something bad about herself he would correct her. Everytime she said something bad about someone else, he forced her to list three things she liked about them. She’d never known anyone like him. The strange spell he had over her was so confusing. She honestly had no idea how they had gotten here in such a short period of time. But she didn’t hate it.

She sat across from him at one of the circular tables in the Mode cafeteria, now dressed in her sweats with her hair up in a clip. The metallic makeup still decorating her face. Her lipstick stained the rim of the white mug she sipped her coffee from as she watched the boy across from her animatedly rant.

“Seriously though!” Jon banged his fist against the table, making both of their trays of food shake. He had been ranting about flannel the whole time they’d been in line. At this point, Chloé didn’t think anything was going to get him to stop.

“Plenty of high end designers resent the material, it’s got a stench of the midwest and middle class reeking off of it.” She sat her cup down. “My mother finds it personally offensive. She’d probably disown me if she ever saw me in it.”

Jon stared at her for a long moment, eyes wide and blank before he finally spoke. “I’m going to buy you so much flanel, what’s your favourite colors?”

“Gold, yellow, baby blue, and duke blue.” She crossed her arms. “Please God, don’t buy me anything. Especially flanel.”

“I’m gonna get you a yellow and blue one.” Chloé let out a large groan as the Kansan beamed at her.

“Hey Chlo.” She looked up, making eye contact with one Adrien Agreste. His smile radiating that pure sunshine he was famous for. “Hi Jon.”

“Hey Adrien.” Jon smiled back, sticking a spoonful of chocolate pudding in his mouth.

“Mind if we join you?” Chloé’s eyes immediately flicked behind the blonde where Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood, partially hidden behind the tall model, tray in her hand.

“Course not!” Jon chimed after a thick swallow. “Got a big table because I figured all six of us would want to sit together.” Adrien walked around the table to sit between Chloé and Jon, while Marinette sat between the two on the other side.

Chloé quickly noted the lack of earrings on her person. It was strange seeing her without them, she honestly couldn’t remember the last time she saw the girl’s naked lobes. Her eyes then darted to Adrien’s hand, now resting on the table. No ring.

They must have stashed the jewelry away somewhere safe before coming down. She was more than a little relieved that an anxiety inducing scene like the one this morning would not be repeated. She swore her heart rate quickened every time she saw the two slip their miraculouses into one another’s hands. But the idea of two of the most powerful things on earth being left unguarded somewhere in the Mode building was somewhat unsettling as well. She’d just have to trust in the two’s intuition she supposed. Not much else she could do anyway.

“So, what were the two of you chatting about?” Adrien asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the table as the four began to eat their meals.

“Oh.” Jon perked up. “I was just talking about how I was gonna buy Chloé a whole bunch of flannels.” He smiled at her cheekily. “Then we can wear them around and match so everyone knows we’re best friends.”

“Definitely not.” Chloé snapped quickly as Adrien began to laugh.

“I think I would honestly give you one of my kidneys if you got this girl into flannel.” The blonde continued to laugh as he began cutting into what looked like chicken.

“It’s not the worst material in the world.” Marinette said, voice somewhat quiet. “It’s just hard to work with when your designing for people willing to pay millions.”

“Exactly what I said!” Chloé shouted.

“You said it smelled like the midwest and middle class.” Jon corrected.

“Yeah,” Chloé crosses her arms. “It’s the smell that makes it difficult to sell to millionaires.”

“I don’t even want to think of what my father would do if he saw me in flannel.” Adrien added before taking a bite of his food.

“Geez, what is with y’all’s parents?” Jon asked. “My dad wouldn’t have the slightest problem with me wearing flannel.”

“Does your dad regularly wear flannel though Jon?” Chloé asked.

“Well yeah,” the boy stirred his spoon around what remained in his small bowl of pudding. “But my mom kind of hates the fabric. But she doesn’t get mad at me when I wear it!”

“Ah, but you see young one,” Marinette interjected. “Your parents care about you.”

“My father cares!”

“That you look good.” Chloé snorted. “Seriously Adri, it’s okay that your dad doesn’t love you. In fact, I think I’ve been doing much better since I accepted the fact that my mother can’t stand me.” The table went silent, Chloé preoccupied with her coffee didn’t noticed until she had set her cup back down. “What?” She asked, looking around at the concerned faces surrounding her.

“Chlo…” Adrien reached out for her hand.

“She cares Chloé.” Marinette whispered. “On some level, all parents care about their kids.”

“She’s right.” Jon added. “She may not show it but your mother loves you Chloé.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, pulling her hand away from Adrien’s. “It’s really not that big of a deal anymore. I’ve accepted it and I’ve moved on.” She turned her face away from the group.

“Chloé-” Marinette was interrupted by a tray being slammed down on the table. They all looked up to see Damian who was pulling a chair up and sitting down between Marinette and Jon.

“I hate this.” He said, monotone voice laced with rage.

Colin quietly pulled up a seat, opting to sit between Adrien and Chloé. “Blood pressure dear.” The redhead mentioned, picking up a white mug that fizzed like a soft drink and taking a long sip from it.

“Hate what?” Marinette asked.

“This.” Damian’s eyes squinted, hands extending. “Did Enda tell you what she did?” He asked.

Marinette turned forward, fork poking at the pasta on her tray. “I think we’ve already established that Aunt E shared very little of what was happening during this trip with me.”

“Alexander Galbaki has these fraternal twins in his family.” Damian began to explain, fist clenched around his fork. “I forget their names, it’s like russian or german though. But their our age, a girl and a boy who are never seen not with one another.”

“I’m betting on a twincest situation.” Colin piped up, setting his cup down.

“Does that happen in real life?” Jon asked. “I thought it was just a fanfiction thing?”

Colin shook his head. “We looked up their instagram while Titus ate, they are like all over each other, it’s seriously nauseating.”

“What do these creeps have to do with Edna?” Chloé asked, leaning forward and resting her chin on her fist.

“Edna decided to have Marinette and I be her models for this after she found out that Galbaki is releasing a collection the same night as her runway!” Damian threw his hands out in front of him, his face clearly expressing that they should all be understanding his frustration.

“And the twins are headlining it?” Adrien finally asked.

“YES!” he screamed.

“Oh.” Marinette nodded. “She wants us to compete with them.” She nodded a little faster. “That makes sense.” She twirled some pasta on to her fork. “Why is this pissing you off?”

“She could have told us!” he stabbed his fork into his salad. “Seriously! If I had known I had a target on this trip I would have researched in advance.” He grumbled as he shoved his fork into his mouth.

“Vanya and Demitri.” Colin sounded, Damian’s phone in his hand. “See it’s gross,” He showed the phone to Chloé, the screen displaying two very pale teenagers with platinum blonde hair. The girl was in a very skimpy white bikini her long hair straightened and reaching her butt, black headband holding back her bangs and a pair of high end sunglasses covering her eyes. She was seated on the lap of another very pale teenager in a pair of black swim trunks. His almost white hair swept back, sunglasses covering his eyes as well. One of his hands was weaved around the girl’s waist, the other resting on her thigh.

“Okay ew.” Chloé mumbled as Colin shifted to show Adrien the picture.

“I mean,” The blonde scratched at his head. “Yeah, that doesn’t look great but it’s just one picture-”

“They are all over each other in pretty much every post.” Colin interjected. “It’s gross.”

“So stop looking at it.” Marinette stated matter-of-factly. “No one is making you insta stalk them.”

“We need to do research!” Damian growled. “I need to be ready to take them down at a moments notice.”

“Dames is just pissy because Demitri is taller than him.” Colin said with a roll of his eyes.

“He is a freakishly tall human being!”

Colin leaned over to Chloé. “He used to be like way short when he was little, even though he’s shot up like a weed he’s still got short man syndrome.” He whispered, the girl quickly covered her mouth to stifle her giggle.

“Speaking of insta stalking.” Chloé said through her breathy laugh. “Have we gotten any more updates on the drama back home?” She asked, question pointed towards Adrien. “Last I heard Lila was telling everyone she was Damian’s secret girlfriend?”

“Has she upgraded form unrequited love to secret girlfriend?” Marinette asked, eyebrow cocked as she leaned forward on her elbow.

“Something like that.” Adrien breathed tiredly. “According to Nino the girls have been asking none stop questions and the story just keep growing.”

“Growing how?” Colin asked, eyes narrowing.

“Well, for one she’s been referring to him exclusively as Dami-Bear.”

“Wow.” Damian stabbed at his salad again. “I hate that.” he shoved it into his mouth.

“And she also told a very long and dramatized story about the two of you in Grease last summer.” Adrien glanced to Colin and then Damian before his eyes landed on his tray of food. “Nino didn’t repeat verbatim, but it apparently wasn’t really family friendly.”

“Oh I’m gonna break her nose.” Chloé jumped when Colin’s fork snapped in half.

“Blood pressure darling.” Damian quipped, receiving only the dirtiest of looks from his boyfriend.

“It could be worse.” Jon held up his hand, like he was trying to calm Colin from across the table. “She could be posting this stuff online or something, at least it’s contained to their class, right?”

“I don't know.” Marinette hummed. “She’s got a lot of followers in school, not just our class.” She looked down at her food, brows knitted together. “Dames, you have international coverage, right?”

“That might just be the dumbest question you’ve ever asked me.”

The bluenette rolled her eyes. “Can I texted some friends from your phone?” She asked dryly. Damian only shrugged, gesturing across the table to Colin who still had the smartphone. The boy was quick to pass it over.

UNKNOWN: You arent gonna believe this

New Contact: ???

New Contact: who?

UNKNOWN: Its Marinette.

UNKNOWN: dont freak out

UNKNOWN: but Im textng from Damian Wayne’s Phone

Marinette held out the phone, leaning close to Damian and smiled wide. The boy looked up at his phone, camera app open and focusing on him and his cousin. His face remained expressionless but he held up a simple peace sign as she snapped the photo. Marinette then quickly sent it off to the number she was texting.

UNKNOWN: proof

New Contact: GIRL?!?!?!

New Contact: WTF!?!!?

_______________________________________________________________________

(part 1) (part 2) (part 2.5) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) - Here (part 10)

Photoshoot Part 2! I don’t know why I thought I could fit this all into one part. Like seriously, what was I thinking? I also miss calculated how long these three sections would be, the next Incredibles Cameo will be in the next part for sure. Writing has been kind of hard this week but my mind has been racing with ideas. So buckle up y’all cause there are now some big plot twists that have wormed their way into my mind and have been embedded in this fic. I’ll be curious to see if anyone can see them coming ;) Thank you all so much for the comments! They always make me smile and get me motivated to write more! As always if you have any questions about the story or AU feel free to ask, I love getting them and will happily answer any question you got! And if you want to be tagged let me know!

Can y’all guess who Mari is texting?

@graduatedmelon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @bamagirl513 @vixen-uchiha @beaversuenightly @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @todaylillypads @laurakinneylance @vgirl-10123 @wellcrud-blog-blog @silvergold-swirl @crazylittlemunchkin @an-ahez @queencommonsense @ladybug-182 @meganemily231 @driftingmoonlitpetals @kand-roo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @theatreandcomicfreak @paradoxal-occurance @miraculousl4dybug @thanks-captain-obvious @sassydepression @multishipper1needshalp @wegan97 @surprisebishhhhhhhhh @redscarlet95 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @synnesstra @fandomkitty8 @tired-yeetling @saluteswifties @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dast218 @naclychilli @royalchaoticfangirl @panda3506 @nataladriana9 @shreky-boi @my-name-is-michell @dawnwave16

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 5 years ago

Text

Non-Sequential [Ch. 19]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 3,114

Chapter 18

It really didn’t matter that Steve wanted to meet so early. Y/N hadn’t even fallen asleep. It was partly from still recovering from her trauma and partly from her anxiety of meeting up with Steve. She knew it was ridiculous. They had been dating for over a year, known each other since their teenage years.

So, why did Y/N feel like she was going on a first date?

Y/N put on a little makeup, mostly to cover the shadows under her eye. The last thing she needed was to show proof to Steve that she was barely sleeping.

With one final look in the mirror, Y/N sighed. That was as good as it was going to get. A part of her didn’t know why she bothered. Steve had seen her at her best and her worst. Even when she didn’t have a stitch of makeup on or had the flu, he still told her she was beautiful. Even more importantly, he made her feel that way too.

Y/N opened her bedroom door and jumped when she saw that Steve was already waiting on the other side.

“Jesus, Steve!” She gasped and put a hand over her heart. “How long have you been standing out here?”

“I just got here and was about to knock on your door. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He really did look sorry.

“It’s fine,” she told him. Then she shifted her weight. The awkwardness of the whole thing quickly returned.

“Ready to go?” He asked her.

She nodded.

Steve started leading her through the palace. For someone who hadn’t spent much time in Wakanda, he walked with confidence when it came to directions there.

“Sleep OK?” Steve asked, trying to make conversation. But he knew better than to ask her anything real. She wasn’t a morning person and he knew that.

“Mhmm,” she hummed and added a nod.

Steve knew that was her attempt at lying without actually lying. But he didn’t push it.

Eventually they found their way outside. The sun was just about to come up, making the sky the prettiest shades of pink and lavender.

Y/N was so busy looking at the sky that she didn’t notice there were two palace orderlies holding the reigns of two different horses. It took her a moment to process that these horses were for her and Steve.

“Is that a look of confusion or a look of fear?” Steve asked nervously.

Had he made a mistake? Was this a terrible idea?

But Y/N caught his worried tone and immediately adjusted.

“Neither. I was just surprised. Are we going horseback riding?”

Steve looked nervously between the two horses. He had already grabbed the reigns from the two orderlies and thanked them, sending them on their way.

“Is that OK?”

Y/N finally smiled. It really was like a first date. Steve was nervous as hell, as if he didn’t already know her inside and out. “Yes, Steve, it’s OK.” She finally laughed.

Then she grabbed the reigns of one of the horses and immediately started petting it.

“I just didn’t know you knew how to ride horses,” Y/N teased without stopping her petting or looking away from animal.

Steve had the audacity to blush at that. “During the war, the Howlies and I got stuck behind enemy lines. They couldn’t pull us out, so we just started walking. Halfway through the trek, we came upon a dozen horses. You learn how to ride real quick when it’s life or death.”

Y/N finally looked up at him with a sheepish grin. “No matter how many times it happens, I’m always surprised by how the man who’s lived so many different lives also seems to be good at everything.”

Steve blushed and bowed his head. “I’m not good at everything,” he muttered under his breath.

“Only people that are good at everything say that,” she shot back with a smile.

Steve would take Y/N’s teasing of her ignoring him any day. Hell, he’d sign up for a roast on national television, hosted and starring her, if it meant getting back on her good side.

Now he saw her eyeing the saddle and looked a little unsure of herself.

“You know how to mount?” He asked carefully.

Then it was her turn to look embarrassed. “I’ve always had a little stool when I do this…”

Steve gave her a small reassuring smile, making sure she understood that it was nothing to be embarrassed by.

“Here. Let me help you,” he offered before walking over.

Any other person would cup their hands together and tell her to step in as they lifted. But not Steve. He told her to put her foot in the stirrup and then, with his hands on her waist, he lifted her high enough that she could swing her other leg over the saddle.

Every once in awhile, Y/N forgot how strong Steve really was. Then she was reminded at times like these and it usually left her all hot and bothered.

Steve kept a hand on her thigh longer than necessary. But in his mind, he was just making sure she was seated safe and sound.

Once he was convinced that she was okay, he moved to his own horse. And, of course, he mounted like he had been born to ride horses. Y/N almost rolled her eyes at the sight.

“You good?” Steve asked, which was just his way of asking if she knew how to ride without sounding patronizing.

“Yeah, I’m just glad you didn’t bring the rhinos to ride.” She replied before digging her heels slightly and urging the horse into a walk.

“Wait, what?”

“Exactly.” Then Y/N looked back at his face and couldn’t help but giggle.

Steve smirked at the sound. Her smiles and laughter were few and far between. He’d take any that he could get, even if that meant that they came from mocking him.

They eased the horses into a slow walk. Steve knew what trails they should follow and Y/N let him lead the way. They kept the conversation light. Steve didn’t dare ask how she was recovering in Wakanda. Bucky had already enlightened him on the turmoil of Y/N’s life since he had abandoned her.

Y/N had to offer up that information.

But Steve did tell her where he had been, what he had been doing. He answered all of her questions and made sure to be as specific as possible. It was sensitive information – being on the run from basically every government and all. But there was no one he trusted more than her.

Y/N asked how everyone was doing. She had grown so close to them through her relationship with Steve. They were her friends and her family.

Steve explained that Clint and Scott had made a deal with the government so they could return to their families. Y/N frowned when she realized the “deal” was staying under house arrest.

“We’re doing OK, Y/N.” Steve finally added softly after he saw how she was getting more and more distressed about the team.

“I saw Tony…before I left,” she suddenly told him. “Apparently he made quite the scene in London, trying to bring me back to the medical wing of the Compound.”

With the mentioning of Tony, Steve’s jaw clenched and he narrowed his gaze to the horizon in the distance.

“I’m not sure he’ll ever forgive me,” Steve muttered under his breath.

Y/N’s heart broke at such a statement. She was a witness to the two men’s friendship. Yes, they bickered. Yes, they argued. Yes, they had a different way of seeing justice, and even right and wrong. But they loved each other. They were practically brothers.

“Do you know why he dragged me back to the Avengers’ Compound?” She asked him gently.

But he just looked at her, waiting for the answer.

“Because he wanted me to have the best care. And he did that because he knows how much I mean to you.” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter what’s happened between the two of you, because he proved that he would still do anything for the people you love, Steve.”

His face softened at the concept. But then he gave her a little side smirk. “You’re missing a big piece though…”

Her eyebrow quirked. “What?”

“He doesn’t care about you just because I love you, Y/N. You’re family to him too. Has nothing to do with me. I’m just the one that introduced the two of you.”

Y/N smiled at that. But then a thought was nagging in the back of her head. “He’s basically there all alone. Rhodey is constantly traveling for his job. And from what you’ve said, Vision is just constantly looking for his next chance to see Wanda. I don’t know if him and Pepper ever worked things out.”

“That’s what I was worried about,” Steve sighed.

A moment of silence passed between them.

“What are we going to do, Steve?”

He bowed his head, but said nothing. He wasn’t going to lie, because he knew that he had no idea what they could do next.

“Are you going to be on the run for the rest of our lives? Are we just going to live in Wakanda? Are you really OK with being labeled a criminal from now on?”

Steve looked into her eyes with the most heartfelt and apologetic gaze. “I don’t know, Y/N. But I promise I’m figuring it out.”

Y/N nodded and glanced down, petting her horse’s neck. “Guess it doesn’t really matter though, does it?”

He narrowed his gaze. “What do you mean?”

She looked back at him again. “As long as we’re together, nothing else really matters. We’ll have each other.”

Steve swore his heart stopped at her words. He stared into her eyes, making sure she knew that he understood and, even more importantly, agreed.

Eventually, he had to tear his eyes away from her. Then he pulled his horse to a stop. Y/N followed.

“This is why I made you get up so early,” Steve pointed ahead of them.

They had stopped their horses at the edge of a hill, allowing them to clearly see a ravine below with all its hills and valleys. But what Steve pointed to was the rising sun.

“I’ve heard Shuri and T’Challa talk about the sunsets here… but they’ve never mentioned the sunrises,” Y/N said in awe as she took in the beautiful colors.

Steve nodded silently.

After a few minutes, Y/N finally managed to tear her eyes away from the scene. Steve was already waiting for her gaze.

“Thank you…for doing all this,” she told him softly.

He just gave a modest grin and then dismounted.

Steve was no fool. He knew he had to do more than just horseback riding at sunrise to win her back.

He reached for something that was on the other side of his saddle.

“Come on. I brought reinforcements.” Then he held up what looked to be a large thermos and a bag.

“What’s that?” Y/N asked.

“Coffee and some pastries – I think they’re called vitumbua?”

Steve was already at her side. He didn’t offer his help when she dismounted, but he stayed close by just in case.

Apparently Steve had thought of everything, because he spread out a blanket for them to sit on as well.

They laid down, drinking coffee and eating.

Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she let this relaxed feeling wash over her. It seemed Steve was the only one to help with it.

They didn’t force conversation, because they didn’t need to. When either of them had something to say, they said it. But they weren’t afraid of comfortable silences.

“You should’ve brought your sketchbook,” Y/N told him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Steve hummed in agreement. “Next time,” he promised with a quick, whisper of a kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll bring my camera,” Y/N added with a dreamy smirk.

“There was this small village we were hiding out in a few months back. It was in the countryside of France, right by the border of Switzerland and Italy. The entire time I was there, I just kept thinking about how much you would’ve loved it. You’d be taking so many pictures that I wouldn’t even be able to get a glimpse of your face – your camera would be blocking you from me the whole time.”

Y/N took in a deep breath, admitting to herself that it sounded like a lovely concept.

She turned to him. “Maybe that’s what we should do.”

“What?”

“Find someplace beautiful. Small population. Somewhere no one will recognize you. No internet connection. Minimum connection to the outside world.”

“Easier said than done,” Steve pointed out.

Her shoulders slumped, realizing he knew better than she did.

After a couple of hours, they figured it was time to get back to the palace.

But they took the long way home, choosing a different route so they could see even more scenery of the Wakandan countryside.

Steve didn’t realize how close to the border they had come. Not too far away, were the first people, besides farmers in the distance, that they had seen during their ride.

But they must’ve seen the couple first, for they were already riding in their direction.

Steve squinted and shielded his eyes from the sun, his super-soldier sight being able to see clearer than Y/N’s.

“You weren’t kidding about those rhinos, were you?” He thought aloud.

30 seconds later, they were surrounded by half a dozen men. Two of them quickly dismounted from the rhinos while the other four remained seated in their saddles. However, all of them eyed Steve and Y/N with weary glares.

One of them spoke in Wakanda’s native tongue, even though they were clearly dressed like outsiders. Wakanda may have officially just opened its borders to the world, but the people of Wakanda still did not trust foreigners.

Steve dismounted from his horse. However, he was put on edge when Y/N did the same.

“What brings you to the border?” The same man asked the same question, now in English. His accent was still thick.

“We’re friends of King T’Challa. I’m sorry… have we offended you in some way?” Steve asked when he saw the men’s hands hovering over the spears or knives buckled to their waists.

“King T’Challa?” The man spat as if it was a terrible lie. Then he turned around and started talking to his men, anger and irritation clear in his tone.

Steve moved closer to Y/N, stepping forward so he could easily move to shield her if need be.

“Steve, this is the Border Tribe,” she muttered quietly.

“Yeah?” He obviously didn’t fully understand what that meant.

“They were the group behind the civil war. They suffered a great deal when Kilmonger tried to take the throne from T’Challa. Now is not the time for them to welcome outsiders,” Y/N warned him.

The leader turned around again and got in Steve’s face. “Who did you steal these horses from?”

Steve held up his hands, trying his best to keep the peace. “They belong to King T’Challa. I told you, we are friends of the King. We mean no harm. We were only going for a ride – just passing through.”

Suddenly one of the men had grabbed both of the horses’ reigns and pulled them roughly away from Steve and Y/N.

Next thing they knew, one of them was grabbing Y/N.

Her entire body went hot. She could hear her own heartbeat pulsating in her ears, making it impossible to hear anything else around her. Her entire body started trembling. She couldn’t breathe. There was suddenly a tightness in her chest, like 500 pounds was pressing on it.

Y/N was having a panic attack.

Everyone had been so careful about invading her space and touching her. But the trauma of Hydra was still far too fresh.

She was getting flashbacks of being stuck back in time, getting tortured every day.

The panic attack could’ve lasted seconds or an hour. She couldn’t tell.

All Y/N knew was that when she came to, Steve was clutching her face and telling her over and over again that she was OK.

Y/N blinked and looked around. All of the men had been knocked off their feet, clutching various injuries and looking at Steve with utter fear.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Steve muttered to Y/N as he pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her protectively.

Then there were sounds of someone running to approach them. Y/N felt Steve’s entire body tense and shifted so he was blocking their view of Y/N. He was already prepared to defend once again.

But it was one of the Royal Guards. He must’ve been stationed in the village after the civil war to assure there were no more rebellions conjured up.

“Captain Rogers, I apologize. Had I known they had come to address you, I would’ve made sure they knew who you were,” he told him with the bow of his head.

Steve relaxed, but kept Y/N in his arms, rubbing soothing circles on her back and arm.

“Please, can you contact someone to bring us back? She can’t ride.”

The guard immediately nodded his head and took a few steps away to contact someone with his kimoyo beads.

But Y/N had not stopped shaking. Not even Steve’s body warmth could stop it. He quickly grabbed the blanket from his saddle and wrapped it around her.

“You’re OK. I got you,” he murmured to her. “Just keep taking deep breaths.”

It was strange to think the man who tried to comfort her so gently now was the same man who could’ve easily killed those six men in seconds.

But this wasn’t about Steve’s fierce protectiveness of Y/N.

This was the first time Steve had actually witnessed Y/N’s trauma for himself. All it took was a few men to invade her space, to touch her, and her mind and body were thrown back to place of torture and fear.

“I-I’m OK,” Y/N tried to lie through her trembling.

Steve clenched his jaw, not having any intention of addressing that it was obvious how not okay she was. At least…not yet.

--------------------------------

Chapter 20

A/N: I know this took me awhile. Honestly, things have no been great. This summer has just been...pretty terrible TBH. So writing and finishing this series has not been easy. That’s not be looking for attention or help, just wanted to be real about why these updates are less frequent than my other series.

#non-sequential series #non-sequential chapter 19 #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #marvel reader insert #steve rogers series #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #pre serum steve rogers #pre serum!steve rogers x reader #pre-serum!steve rogers #non-sequential part 19

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sunmoonandeddie · 6 years ago

Text

i am born again

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 8,455

summary: In a moment of reverence, you and Bucky look back on where you started.

prompt: ‘airbag’ by the fretless

warnings: swearing, violence

a/n: This was written for @kentuckybarnes 3K writing challenge! Congrats on the milestone! I really, really enjoyed writing this, and I found a new favorite song from it.

“Hey, babydoll.”

You hummed in response, leaning against the bar. Your finger was absentmindedly circling the rim of your glass of champagne—“It’s an 1820 Juglar Cuvee,” Tony had said with a proud smirk, “Figured if we were going to be celebrating tonight, we’d drink something good.” You’d insisted that you’d been fine with a $5 bottle of wine from Walmart since you were fifteen, but he wouldn’t hear anything about it, even going as far as calling you ‘blasphemous.’

The material of your dress clung to your skin, somehow still not wrinkled even after hours of dancing. Your heels had been kicked off a while ago and were resting on the ground in front of your stool. Your ankle had started hurting somewhere around hour three, and you knew that you’d have to ask James to fix it for you in the morning.

It was strange, having a party dedicated to you. You didn’t even get birthday parties before coming—or rather, being dragged—into the little family. But Tony had insisted on pulling out all the stops for your little ‘coming out.’

The last few weeks had been full of paperwork and government meetings, press conferences, and signing your names to the replacement for the absolute disaster that was the Sokovia Accords. It had been a whirl wind, you couldn’t lie. When you had gotten to the United Nations summit in London, you had been an anxious mess. You had been sure that at any moment, all of it would be taken away from you—someone would point at you and call you a fraud, call you the monster you were always sure you had been.

But it hadn’t happened.

You had walked into the summit with your head held high, James’s hand sneaking down to squeeze yours as he watched you with a proud smirk. And then seeing a place just for your name right beside all of your teammate’s had just made it all the more real. You had officially become a member of the Avengers in the eyes of the world after signing that paper.

It had all come to a culmination tonight, in one of the biggest parties Tony Stark had ever thrown. The champagne was flowing freely, the music playing until the last guest had left. Even now, someone—probably Tony—had gotten F.R.I.D.A.Y. to play a random playlist as your little family—the Avengers and Co., as you liked to call them—laughed and joked together. They were all clearly a little drunk, even Steve, Thor, and Bucky, thanks to Thor’s Asgardian mead.

None of them really cared that it was almost six in the morning. All of you were alive. All of you were together. Nothing from before seemed to matter anymore, because all of you were just so grateful. Tony and Steve were cackling over some joke, doubled over with just wheezes coming out of their mouths while Pepper stood nearby and watched her husband with a fond smile. The wedding ring on her left finger was glimmering in the light. Natasha was twirling around with a bottle of champagne in her hand, her heels lost somewhere. Bruce was watching her with a sort of reverence with soft pink cheeks. Clint and his family were sitting on the couch, giggling as they watched Thor tell some fantastic story. The others were all dotted around, talking and laughing and just being happy. And Bucky…

Your eyes flickered up to where he was leaning against the bar beside you now. His hair was disheveled, having fallen out of his neat bun about halfway through the night. There was a glazed look in his eyes, and his cheeks were flushed from the alcohol as his flesh hand reached out to grab yours. “I e’er tell you that you’re the prettiest dame I’ve e’ver seen?” He slurred.

“You have,” you giggled, feeling a little warm yourself. “You tell me every day.”

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he pointed at you. “But do ya believe me, babydoll?”

You smoothed the hand that wasn’t in his over the lapel of his suit. Note to self, get Tony to throw more parties so I can see him in this more often, you thought to yourself as your hand moved up to run along his broad chest. “I believe everything you tell me,” you said, hyper aware of the heat of his gaze.

He leaned forward, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. “Love you. You know tha’, right?” His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Even after all this time, he still elicited the same reaction. He made your knees feel weak, your mouth go dry. “Loved ya since I firs’ saw ya, babydoll.”

“Way back in 2006?” You teased, your fingers gently carding through his hair.

Bucky nodded before pressing a kiss to your pulse point. “Even when ya shot me.”

Taking a deep breath, you crept down the dark hallway, your gun held at the ready. The apartment building was almost completely silent, thanks to the late hour. You could hear a dog barking a few floors above, and there was a television still on in the apartment to your right. But it was nothing concerning, just the sounds of a civilian life.

God forbid someone come out of their apartment now and see you. You preferred scaling the walls and going through windows, but the window of the apartment you were heading for faced a busy street, and you couldn’t risk being seen. And as much as you didn’t like it, if someone saw you, you’d have to take them out.

No witnesses. Ever.

As you rounded the last set of stairs, you spotted the door you were looking for at the end of the hall. Apartment number 508. It only took a moment for you to know that the rest of the floor was completely silent. Everyone was fast asleep.

“Boring,” you scoffed, shaking your head in slight disappointment as you pulled a bobby pin out of your hair. It took less than ten seconds for you to get the door unlocked and it swung upon with a soft creak.

Despite the fact that it was completely dark and silent, something felt off. There was a sense of unease as you stepped through the threshold with your gun raised and ready to shoot. Trying to brush it off, you began to move through the apartment towards the bedroom.

Minimum furniture. No picture frames. Nothing on the fridge.

“So you’re a loner,” you said to yourself, your voice barely audible.

“I wouldn’t call myself a loner. I’ve even learned how to play with others.”

You whirled around, but all you could see was Iron Man’s arc reactor before everything went black, though the last thing you heard was a familiar voice.

“TONY, DON’T!”

There was a pounding in your head when you finally came to, groaning as you reached up to touch your temple. You could feel dried blood right around your hair line and let out a huff.

Tony fucking Stark.

“So you’re awake.”

You sat up abruptly, ignoring the way it made your head spin. The room were you were in was made of glass and seemed to be in a circle. You could see that the glass cage you were in was in some kind of facility. When your eyes finally landed on a familiar figure, you couldn’t help but scoff. “Soldier.”

“I usually prefer to go by my name now, doll,” James said, raising his eyebrows. His arms crossed over his chest as he stared you down. But you were too busy unashamedly taking him in. “You still remember that, right? I don’t think Tony hit you hard enough to cause amnesia.”

He looked… softer than the last time you had seen him. His hair had been cut, though it was still a little shaggy. His stubble was neatly trimmed and he just looked less tense. Less like a robot.

“I see you finally learned how to shave,” you said, taking in a shaky breath as you tried to take stock of yourself. Your head was still pounding. You weren’t sure what Tony Stark had hit you with, but it had certainly done a number on you. There were several tender spots, particularly around your shoulders, but that was normal. Your left ankle still clicked from where you had strained it a few years before, the tendons moving back and forth over the bone. That caused a bit of a grimace. No matter how much physical therapy you did on it, it never did go back to how it. And you had known that when it happened, since straining something meant that you had fucked up the tendons, which never go back.

But that was beside the point.

James leaned against the railing of a walkway right outside the cage. “So what were you doing in that apartment?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You muttered, getting to your feet with a wince. You could ignore your head and the tenderness in your shoulder blades. You had to. It was how you were trained. You always got up and kept going until the job was done.

“I would.”

You raised your eyebrows as you watched him start to circle around the cage, his eyes never leaving you. “You and I both know that you wouldn’t be asking me if you didn’t already know.”

The tension between you two could be cut with a knife as he smirked. “What does your boss want with a former HYDRA scientist?”

“Who said I have a boss?”

“Because if you’re doing a job, you’re getting paid,” he replied, rolling his sea blue eyes. Those eyes that had always brought you to your knees. Made you beg. Made you want something for once in your life…

No. You couldn’t think about that shit.

You stood with your arms crossed over your chest defensively. “Who says I can’t do a job for myself?”

“Not your style.”

God, you wanted to punch his stupid pretty face. “You don’t know anything about me or my style, Soldier,” you snarled. “I don’t know you.”

That made him pause. He turned to fully face you, something glimmering in his eyes. “So those four months in Florence didn’t mean anything to you?” When you didn’t reply, he took a step closer, standing just inches from the glass. “I know you remember. May of 2006, right? You were… what? Nineteen?” The corner of his lips twitched up into a smirk. “You looked so young. Hell, you still look like you’re not a day over twenty.”

“Says the hundred year old man.”

“So you do know me?” He seemed a little surprised. “And here I thought you hadn’t bothered looking for me.”

“Of course, I did.” You moved to the other side of the cage, so you were as far from him as you could get. “And it wasn’t like it was hard. The entire world knows who James Buchanan Barnes is after Black Widow’s little info dump. The best friend of Captain America, the Winter Soldier.”

He began to move to where you were standing, causing you to move in the opposite direction. “And?”

“And what?”

James just seemed to get more and more frustrated. His blue eyes narrowed and you wondered if he was flexing or if he’d been working out. The way his black t-shirt strained against his muscles made your head feel a little woozy. “And what did you think?”

“What? Back in 2006? I found it rather interesting that the man who claimed he was in love with me didn’t think it was necessary to tell me he was leaving.” You watched him with narrowed e/c eyes as you continued to move away with him. You knew that he’d eventually get tired of it and snap at you, but that’s exactly what you wanted. Half the time, the only way to get James Barnes to talk was to get him so angry and frustrated that he couldn’t hide his emotions behind a wall. “But I knew you were the Soldier when we first met, so what the hell do you mean, what did I think?”

“About who I was before,” he shouted, the vein in his neck straining. His hands were fisted tightly by his sides.

Rolling your eyes, you sat down in the middle of the cage, leaning back. “Well, I finally found out something about you, so that was nice. Even if it was years after it would’ve been relevant.”

“You knew who I was. And you’re deflecting.”

“I did not. You’re annoying.”

“Y/N, stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what.”

You raised your eyebrows, feigning innocence as you let your head fall back. The ceiling of the cage had suddenly become very interesting. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re evading,” he hissed, his patience wearing incredibly then. You were actually surprised he had lasted this long anyway. He had always had a short temper back when the two of you had been together. “And you know me. I told you about Steve and my sisters and everything I could remember.”

Your eyes caught on a crack in the ceiling, but you tried not to let it show on your face. One of the panels was slightly out of place. A way out.

“Fine,” Bucky said as he circled around, clearly trying to get you to look at him. “Could you at least tell me how you’ve barely aged in over ten years?”

“A fantastic skin care routine,” you replied nonchalantly, closing your eyes. Maybe if you just didn’t give him anything for long enough, he’d go away.

Like he did before.

“Come on, Y/N,” he whispered as he pressed a hand against the glass. His ocean eyes were swimming as he stared at you. “Give me something.”

“Or what? Your little friends will kill me?”

You kept your eyes closed, but you could feel his gaze. You could feel how much more he tensed up.

He let out a final sigh, his hand squeaking as it slid down the glass to land back at his side. “I’ll be back with food later.”

The second he was gone, you were on your feet and looking up at the ceiling. You knew you could make the jump and you knew that you could pull yourself up into the vent above.

As long as your ankle didn’t fuck it up.

Jumping and things like that had always been a little harder after straining it. But if you could just get up to the vent, you’d be golden.

Bouncing up and down slightly, you couldn’t help but smirk. There was a little bit of bounce in the floor that was clearly there for shock value. They were just making this easier and easier. Bracing yourself, you positioned yourself directing under the panel.

Pain shot through your ankle as you jumped, but your fingers managed to find purchase. Using one hand, you nudged the panel to create a bigger hole before pulling yourself up. You collapsed in the vent, breathing hard as you took stock. Someone had changed you. You weren’t in your usual uniform, but in a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt with the Stark logo on it. No shoes. All of your weapons were gone, even the knife you kept strapped to your thigh.

Whoever the fuck had touched you was going to pay.

Realizing that you had limited time before someone came to check on you, you pushed the panel black into place. Hopefully there weren’t cameras pointed at the cage, but you knew that it was unlikely you’d be that lucky.

You had already been granted a miracle in the past five minutes. Hoping for more would just jinx you.

“Come on, Y/N,” you said to yourself as you got on all fours. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Ignoring the pain in your ankle, you crawled through the vent, occasionally finding a grate that would grant you a glimpse into where you were. It was definitely some type of training facility. You had already found a gym and a few conference rooms. You quickly came to the conclusion that in order to get out of there, you were going to have to get out of the grate. There were too many different paths to take and you had no idea where they led or which would get you out.

That’s when you hit the jackpot. You peeked down a grate, finding what seemed to be a weapons room. You made quick work of the grate, dropping down into the room with the gracefulness of a cat. Wincing, you glanced down at your ankle. It really was making this more difficult than needed. A quick look around the room made you realize that they were all organized by the owner. Each Avenger had their little area, labeled with their name.

“Tacky,” you muttered with a shake of your head. You were tempted to take someone from Natasha’s stash, but you knew there was only one person who’s weapons you could take. You grabbed a handgun, loading it before sticking it in the waistband of your leggings behind your back. Three knives were tucked into various other spots. You pulled the sweatshirt over all of them, keeping them somewhat hidden. Before leaving the room, you grabbed one more handgun, filling it with ammo before flicking off the safety.

And if someone came in and wondered why there was a few things missing from James Barnes’s stash, well…

You’d be long gone by then.

The halls were mostly quiet, confusing you just a little. You’d figured that this place would be crawling with agents. There’d been a few in the gym when you’d crawled over it, but not that many.

When you heard footsteps approaching, you quickly ducked into a doorway, pressing yourself back against the wall.

“I don’t know what happened, she’s just gone!”

Ah. James Barnes.

“Bucky, the entire compound is searching the area around the Fish Bowl. We’re gonna find her.”

Oh. Captain America. This would be fun. Also, Fish Bowl?

When they came around the corner, you whirled on them. Your gun was pointed straight at them and your hands were steady. It was fair to say that you’d caught them by surprise. A plate that had been in James’s hands clattered to the floor and shattered, sending glass and bits of food everywhere.

“Hey, Buck?” Steve said slowly, his eyes not leaving you. “I think I found her.”

You couldn’t help but smirk as your gaze shifted from the huge blond to James. “I think I like him more than you, Bucky,” you said, a little condescendingly. “At least he’s funny.”

He snorted, shaking his head as he watched you. “How’d you get out?”

“This isn’t some action movie, Soldier,” you spat, rolling your eyes. “I’m not about to spill all my secrets.”

You had to shift a little, trying to get as much weight off your left ankle as possible. It was still in a lot of pain, but you couldn’t focus on that. But both of the super soldiers immediately zeroed in on it.

“You’re hurt,” James said, his eyes softening. He moved to take a step closer and you pointed your gun directly at him. The man immediately froze, hurt coloring his eyes as he looked at you. “You wouldn’t shoot me.”

You shifted your foot again, trying your best to not let it show. “You let your friend knock me out and then locked me in a cage.” Gritting your teeth, you held your head high. “Try me.” Steve was glancing back and forth between the two of you. “We both know I don’t really need it, but extra target practice is always good.”

“Babydoll—”

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” you snapped. “You lost the right a long time ago.”

“You loved me once,” he said, holding his hands in the air as he stood there, baring himself to whatever you might do. “You can’t tell me you don’t still feel the same way.”

“What?” You laughed, glaring at him. “You do?”

“Yes.”

You shook your head, biting your lip. “Shut up, you dirty liar.”

“Y/N,” James said, a frown on his face. “I’m not lying. I still love you.”

“Shut up.”

“When I got out of HYDRA, you were one of the only people I still remembered.”

“Shut. UP.”

He took a chance and took a few steps closer, knowing it could result in your shooting him. “You are the love of my life, Y/N. It was true then, and it’s true now.”

“SHUT UP!” You screamed, tears in your eyes. Your teeth hurt from how hard your jaw was clenched. “Shut the fuck up!”

“Y/N, let me help you,” he whispered, tears rimming his eyes. “Please, put down the gun and let me help you.”

Your heart wanted you to say yes. Your heart wanted you to toss down the gun and launch yourself into his arms, but your brain knew better. Your brain reminded you of how broken you’d been when he left without a trace. Not even a note.

“Stay the hell away from me,” you snarled, and you pulled the trigger. You had aimed it so that it would hit right where his metal arm met the flesh of his shoulder, but you whirled around and started running without waiting to see if it worked. By his shout of pain, you assumed it had.

Ignoring the tears in your eyes, you just kept running. You had to find an exit at some point, right? Your bare feet slapped against the cold tiles of the hallway as you glanced back, finding Steve Rogers hot on your tail with James following at a larger distance. He was clutching his shoulder, blood causing his t-shirt to stick to his skin.

“Y/N, STOP!” James shouted, and you shook your head, willing yourself to go faster.

“Come on, Y/N, come on,” you panted, taking a sharp right turn. But you had to try your best to back pedal as you saw Tony Stark and Sam Wilson running towards you. When you made it back to the hall you had first come from, you turned right, Steve Rogers just a few feet away. You knew there was no reason you’d be able to evade him much longer, no matter what those scientists had pumped you up with.

But you froze as you saw Natasha Romanov running down the hall towards you.

You were effectively trapped. Steve Rogers and James Barnes behind you, Tony Stark and Sam Wilson to your right, Natasha Romanov in front of you, and a wall to your left. You were royally screwed.

“Y/N, please.”

You whirled around to see James coming up behind Steve, who was waiting for your next move with narrowed blue eyes. “I told you to stay away.”

“Listen, kid,” Tony snapped as he stepped forward. “Either you calmly walk back to the Fish Bowl, or we do this the hard way.”

“What, you gonna knock me out like you did before?” You demanded, whirling around to look at him. “Real hospitable. I’ll make sure to leave a Yelp review.”

“She’s funny,” Sam mused, a smirk on his lips as he pointed at you. He then glanced at Bucky. “Hey, Buck, how’d you get a girl this funny?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He asked, still holding his shoulder.

“Well, I’m just saying. Your sense of humor is—”

“Is this really the time?” Natasha was eying you warily, her gun now pointed at you. “How’d you get out of the Fish Bowl?”

“I don’t do well in cages.” You still held your gun in hand, but your heart was pounding. You knew there was no way you’d be able to squirrel your way out of this one. There were too many of them. If you took one down, the others would pounce.

“Y/N,” Bucky said, his voice cracking. “Please.”

You shifted your ankle again, biting the inside of your cheek. It really wasn’t liking you today. It might’ve had to do with the fact that your brace was gone—whoever changed you must’ve taken it. “We both know I’m not getting out of here alive, Soldier.”

“Wait, wait, wait—” Sam stood up a little straighter, his brows furrowed. “We’re not killing her, right? We can’t kill her—she handed Buck’s ass to ‘im.”

“Really, Sam?” Steve sighed as he glanced over at him.

“What, man? She could be good to have around.”

“Not the time!” Natasha repeated, growing more and more irritated.

Tony huffed as he fired up his Iron Man arm, his hand glowing. “Alright, enough of this.”

And yet again, the only thing you heard was James screaming, “TONY, DON’T!”

You woke up back in the Fish Bowl, your head pounding once again. “Shit,” you muttered, glaring down at the ground as you pushed yourself up off your stomach.

“You shot me.”

Knowing who it was without even looking, you shrugged. “Told you to try me. You did.”

“I meant what I said,” James said, his voice soft and warm. It brought you back to lazy mornings, the summer breeze drifting in through the open balcony doors of your apartment, tangled limbs, kisses pressed to your neck, and…

“Would you stop?” You asked, exhaustion seeping through. Your e/c eyes were trained on the ground. “You don’t love me.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Don’t you think I’m the one of us who knows how I feel?” He snapped, causing you to finally look up at him. He was standing outside the glass cage, elastic bandages and medical tape in his hands. James looked at you for a long moment, taking in your slightly defeated expression. “Can I please wrap your ankle?”

“Why?” You looked at him suspiciously, scooting back a little.

He shook his head, already pressing numbers on a keypad outside. The glass wall slid open, but as soon as he was inside, it shut right back. “What do you mean, ‘why?’ You’re hurt.”

“I don’t want you touching me.”

“Well, too bad, babydoll.” He sat in front of you, grabbing your calf and pulling you closer when you tried to scramble backwards. His touch reminded you of a time gone by, but you knew there was no way you could go back. “Because right now, you’re being stubborn and hurting yourself further because you’re angry with me.”

“Fuck off,” you snarled, trying to kick out at him.

His sea blue eyes narrowed at you, fixing you in your spot. “It’s not nice to kick people, you know.”

“It’s not nice to put people in a cage, you know,” you said, making your voice super deep to try to mock him. But you didn’t try to kick him away again.

He picked up your foot, gently running his calloused fingers over your skin, feeling the muscles, tendons, and ligaments underneath. He found what he was looking for when he touched a spot on the bottom of your foot, causing you to gasp and try to jerk away. “There it is,” he hummed as he massaged your foot for a second. Bucky then gently touched the spot again. “When you strained it, you stretched out the tendons and ligaments in your foot—”

“Yeah, I know that,” you said, rolling your eyes.

He fixed you with another look. “As I was saying…” He gently touched the top of your left foot, on the exterior side. “The tendons here are supposed to help hold up a bone, but since they’re stretched…” He tapped the hard spot on the underside of your foot. “It sunk through to the bottom of your foot, which is why it hurts when you use it.”

“That’s a bone?” You asked, your mouth dropping open in shock.

Buck grinned as he patted your foot. “Whoever you went to for this foot clearly didn’t know what they were doing.” He rubbed your foot soothingly, taking a bit of the ache out. “Can you roll onto your stomach for me, doll face?”

You tensed up again, your jaw clenching as you prepared to run, even if you couldn’t get very far. “Why?”

His grin was blinding as he tugged on your calf once again, pulling you close. “Because I’m gonna fix it for you.” You watched him cautiously, but you rolled over anyway. “There ya go. Now, this is gonna feel really weird, okay?” Feeling his hands on you made your cheeks go red, and you just nodded, squeezing your eyes shut. “One… Two… Three.”

You yelped as he popped your foot, putting the bone back into place. “Shit!”

“’M sorry, baby girl,” he murmured, massaging your foot. “Can you turn back over so I can wrap it?”

Not saying anything, you turned back over for him, and he immediately set to work. Your e/c eyes stayed locked on his face as he focused on wrapping your foot. His touch was so tender and gentle, but that wasn’t really surprising. Even when you’d only known him as the Soldier, he’d been careful with you. He always treated you as though you were going to break, even though you were a highly trained assassin.

“There ya go,” he said, barely audible. He was relishing the feeling of being able to touch you, caress you. It had been over ten years, and he had never though he’d get to see you again. Especially not after the way he’d left you.

“I was going after the scientist for me,” you said slowly, despite knowing that if you gave him an inch, he’d take a mile.

“Why?” James looked surprised, so shocked that you were actually going to talk to him.

Your heart was pounding. “I was his experiment. HYDRA was trying to recreate the super soldier serum because the original had so much testosterone that it killed the women they used it on.” You took a chance to look up at him, your eyes locking. “I thought I was going to die for a week after they gave it to me. I thought my blood was boiling me from the inside out. Eventually it settled, but all it did was slow down the aging process.”

“No super strength?”

You can’t help but smirk a little. “Just a little. But not enough to be considered super.”

He chuckled, the warm sound reverberating through you. He seemed so happy to have you near him, to be able to touch you. It reminded you of lazy mornings, when all the two of you did was drink each other in while mapping each other with your hands. “I’m not sorry I got to him first. Consider it payback for Florence.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, averting your eyes so that you were staring off to the side. “’M not sorry I shot you.”

“I know.”

“You deserved it.”

“I know.”

“Because you were an asshole.”

“I know.”

“And you still are one.”

He winced a little, but you didn’t pull away, giving him a little beacon of hope. “It’s okay. I’ll be almost completely healed by morning.”

Your lips were pressed tightly together as you continued to stare off to the side. “Then I’ll just shoot you again tomorrow.”

And though you’d never admit it, the laugh that resounded throughout the glass cage made your heart skip a beat.

Steve groaned from where he was joking with Tony. “Are you two talking about the time you shot ‘im again?” The beautiful Armani suit he was wearing was wrinkled and you were pretty sure that he had spilled Asgardian mead on it several times, but no one really minded. “We’ve heard it a million times now! And you—” He pointed at James. “—always say that she shot you four times, and that’s why you couldn’t catch her, but she actually only shot you once, and you were so starstruck by the fact that she had actually shot you that you tripped four times while we were chasing her.”

Bruce whined from where he sat on the couch, his eyes drifting away from Natasha for the first time all night. “Don’t make fun of them, Steve, I love this story.”

“What story?” Lila asked from where she was sandwiched in between Clint and Laura. Nathaniel, now a few years old, was holding his hands out for Natasha, who eagerly picked him up. Cooper was resting on the other side of his father, nuzzled into his side. The older man’s hand was gently twisting a strand of his wife’s hair around his finger, gazing at his little family adoringly.

Bucky, trying to seem more sober than he was, pointed at the little girl. “The story of how Y/N here was a total badass and—”

“Hey!” Tony said, pointing at him before Laura or Clint could jump in. “No cussing! Young ears!”

“Fine! Sorry!” But he just grinned at you as he said, “She was really cool and shot me.”

“And that’s how you knew she was the one,” Natasha teased, the champagne sloshing out of the bottle that she pointed towards you.

“Noooo,” Bucky retorted, almost falling off his stool. Luckily you were able to grab his arm and pull him back before he crashed onto the hard floor. As resilient as he was to injury, you didn’t think he’d enjoy having his face on the floor with your heels.

Wanda was sitting in Vis’s lap, the bubbles in her laugh mimicking the alcohol coursing through her veins. “No? Then what was it?” Her accent was much thicker when she was drunk.

Your fiancé turned to look at you, his eyes suddenly clear. He looked more sober than he had all night. “It was the day I had to leave you in Florence.”

That surprised you. “Wait, what? I thought it when we made up after me shooting you.” Your nose scrunched up as you looked from the ground and back to him. “Really, though? That day?”

“Yeah, babydoll,” he said with a frustrating air of nonchalance. “It was about ten in the morning, and you woke me up because you were humming.”

The early summer breeze wafted through the open balcony doors as you sat on the edge of the bed. Your little one bedroom apartment was filled with natural light, and it amazed you that the man in the bed behind you hadn’t woken up yet.

Turning to glance back at him, you couldn’t help but grin as you saw the scratches that littered his back. They were already almost entirely healed but you didn’t mind. It just meant you could make more later, and the same could be said about the love bites you had left all over his neck and chest.

It terrified you, the way your heart would race when you glanced at him. After all, you didn’t… like people. At least, you didn’t like like them. It made you feel so many things at once that you felt dizzy anytime you so much as thought about him. His sea blue eyes had pierced your soul the first second that you had met, just four months earlier.

God, had it only been four months? Four months since you had met a man who had completely flipped your world upside down?

The way it had first started had been … messy, to say the least. You had gone after the same target, but both had the same order attached to it.

No witnesses.

You had made it to him first, taking him out in the kitchen as he made a midnight snack with ease. But you hadn’t noticed the front door swinging open and the famed Winter Soldier entering. The second you two had seen each other, you knew you were fucked. You had fought, but that had only resulted in a mass of broken furniture.

There had been a pause in the fighting—the Soldier having backed you up against the wall by the front door—when the door beside you had swung open again, and a man screaming Russian had entered. Before he had even gotten three steps in the door, you had spun on your heel and jammed your knife into his jugular. The hot, scarlet blood spurted all over you but you didn’t even flinch, letting your hand fall to your side as you watched the handler drop to the floor.

You had quickly realized that it had been the Winter Soldier’s handler, wondering what was taking his precious asset so long on such a simple mission.

The so-called Asset didn’t know what to do. His handler controlled everything. Where he went, what he did. Without him, he had no idea where to go or who to call. He knew he could’ve gotten back to Russia, but he had no idea where his base was. So he had kept you trapped in the apartment, refusing to let you leave while he tried to figure out what his next move was.

He had spent a week and a half pacing back and forth and making you anxious with how neurotic he was being. You certainly hadn’t helped—antagonizing him whenever you got the chance. “Sorry, am I vexing you?” You had cooed, batting your eyelashes as he just rolled his eyes with a growl before continuing to pace. All the tension and cabin fever eventually resulted in a mess of clothes on the floor and an even bigger mess of limbs on the bed of the man you two had killed.

The man who’s body you two still had yet to dispose of.

The two of you had stood in the doorway of the guest bathroom, staring at the bathtub with arms crossed over your chests. There was still a sheen of sweat covering the two of you from your earlier… activities. The two of you turned to look at each other, blue eyes meeting e/c. “We should probably take care of them,” you said, both of you slowly turning to look at the target and his handler’s dead bodies, shoved into the huge bathtub.

“We could just leave them there for someone to find,” he replied, though the lilt in his voice made it sound more like a question.

The laugh that had come out of your throat was much more natural than you had expected it to be. “We’d at least have to take care of your handler.” When he didn’t say anything, you tilted your head to look at him. “Are you going to go back?” Your voice was soft, wondering. You hated to admit it, but you had grown fond of him after almost two weeks of being trapped with him. It was nice, being able to talk to someone who kind of understood your line of work. It had taken him a while to open up to you, but he’d eventually started talking when you asked what his favorite weapon was.

A Kershaw cryo steel blade with a stainless steel handle with titanium carbo-nitride coating.

He had seemed nervous when he told you, embarrassed that he even had a favorite weapon.

But then you had told him that yours was a SOG SEAL pup elite fixed blade and his face had split in a blinding smile.

It hadn’t taken him much to warm up to you after you had disposed of a body together, but maybe that’s what happens after going as long as you two had without meeting another person like you. Neither of you had thought too much about how crazy you were being when you decided to shake up in an apartment together. He wanted away from HYDRA, and you wanted to stay in one place for longer than a week. With the pay from the job that you two had met on, it wasn’t like you were struggling for cash either. Being an assassin sometimes had it’s perks.

You thought about that first week and a half with a faint smile, humming as you looked back down at the knives you had been polishing. They were placed on either side of you, the left for James and the right for you. You wanted to do something nice for him, something to surprise him.

You jumped as two strong arms wrapped around you, one warm flesh and the other cold metal. Both of which you loved equally. You loved being able to stay curled up with him all night without feeling overheated and sweaty, his prosthetic keeping you cool. “Good morning,” you said. You dropped the knife you had been cleaning in favor of intertwining your fingers with his where they rested on your stomach.

James’s lips trailed along your bare shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His hot breath caused goosebumps to raise along your arms and he chuckled. “Good morning, babydoll,” he rumbled, his voice deep and breathy and oh, the things it did to you. “I never thought cleaning knives could be so… alluring.”

“Oh, yeah?” You mused as you turned your head, capturing his lips in a kiss. “Do you have a thing for that?”

He smirked, his grip on you becoming more possessive. “I have a thing for everything you do.”

“I’m so glad I could help you fulfill your dirty fantasies,” you said with a bit of an eyeroll. When he tried to pull you back to bed, you shook your head and stood, peeling his hands off of you. You wanted nothing more than to get back under the sheets with him but you had things to do. “No, no, no. I have to go grocery shopping remember?” You stood up and began to get dressed, causing him to fall back onto the pillows with a huff.

“Do you have to?” He asked, his voice coming out in a long whine.

“If you want to eat, yes.” You giggled as you buttoned up your jean shorts and pulled on a tank top. He didn’t even look at you as you crawled up the bed towards him, though he did let out a rather loud groan of frustration as you straddled his hips and leaned over to peek down at him. “Baby, I promise you, as soon as I get back I’ll be right back in this bed, okay?”

He opened one eye. “Naked?”

“Yes, naked.” You leaned down and pressed a featherlight kiss to his lips. “You know, I’m starting to think you only like me when you’re fucking me,” you said, pursing your lower lip as you leaned back.

The result was him shooting up, panic in his gorgeous eyes. “What? Doll, you know how I feel about you.” His arms wrapped around your waist as he held you close to his chest, kissing your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, your nose. “I love you more than life itself.”

“I know, I know,” you giggled, kissing him once more on the lips before pushing him away and pulling on your sandals. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

As soon as you were out the door, James was up and in the kitchen. He had remembered a recipe his Ma used to use around the holidays. It was only for special occasions, since everything was so rationed back then, but he wanted to surprise you. He was halfway through making the sugar cream pie when he heard the door opening.

“Babydoll,” he called out, a warm smile on his face. He always felt so giddy when he thought of you. He was covered in flour from head to toe, the ingredients scattered everywhere. “Don’t come in the kitchen.” When he didn’t get a reply, he frowned and grabbed a towel to wipe his hands off. But when he turned to go to the living room, he froze.

A familiar man stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a smirk on his lips. “Babydoll? Who in the world could that be?” The agent chuckled as he moved towards him, taking in the small kitchen. “You’ve got quite the little set up here, don’t ya, Soldat?”

James didn’t reply, eyeing the knives that were on the counter behind the agent. His worst fear was coming true. He had nightmares about this moment, about HYDRA finding him and putting you in danger. His hands trembled, his mouth going dry.

“Don’t even think about it, Soldat,” he said, already seeing what he’d been thinking. The agent sauntered forward so he was right in front of the super soldier, swiping his finger through the pie mix and popping it into his mouth. “Sweet.” He continued to move around the apartment, James slowly following. The agent smirked as he picked up a pair of your panties from the floor, twirling it teasingly in front of him before he shoved it into his pocket. “Think I’ll save these for later, know what I mean?”

And oh, if James didn’t want to tear him apart at that moment.

“I bet she’s a pretty little thing,” the agent hummed, staring him down. It was clearly to challenge him, making him get angry, and it was working. “Wonder what it would feel like to be inside that sweet—”

James was across the room in an instant, his hand around the agent’s neck as he slammed him up against the wall. “If you touch her, I will rip you apart with my bare hands,” he snapped, his lips pulled back in a snarl.

“If you kill me, the team outside of HYDRA agents will have her dead within five minutes,” he said, his face going red at the lack of oxygen. “She really likes that market on the corner, huh? Always gets peaches there.”

He immediately dropped the agent, his eyes widening. They had eyes on you. Not only did they find him, they had found him and watched him for long enough to know about you and your routines. The thought of a sniper pointing his gun at you struck fear into his heart. You were the love of his life and if you died… “How—”

“You have two choices, Soldat,” the agent said, brushing off his shirt as though he hadn’t almost been choked to death. “Either you come with me quietly and we let her live, or you kill me and your babydoll gets a bullet in that cute little head of hers.”

It didn’t take long to get the groceries from the little neighborhood market, and all you could think about was the man waiting in bed for you. He had almost… transformed in the four months you had been with him. He seemed to be rather old-fashioned, even if he didn’t remember much of his time before HYDRA. Sometimes he spoke of a best friend, someone named Steve with blond hair and bright blue eyes. Other times he spoke of how his sisters would thunder about his childhood home, driving his ma wild. But he was so chivalrous you thought he must’ve time traveled. No man you had met before had ever been so kind.

You took your time on the way back, relishing in the warmth the summer sun bestowed upon you. The smell of fresh cannolis was wafting out of a nearby bakery and you made a split-second decision to pop in and grab a sweet treat for you and James to share.

As you finally got home and opened the door of your apartment, you frowned. Something felt wrong. “James?” When you got no reply, you moved further into the room, walking into the kitchen. There was some kind of desert left half made on the counter. “James?”

Your heart broke as you pushed open the door to the bedroom, finding it completely empty. He was gone.

“I didn’t know that was the moment,” you murmured, biting your lip. James had your hand in his and was gently caressing it.

The rest of the Avengers, somehow still drunk, had all wandered off, realizing it was more of a private moment between the two of you.

“That was the moment I realized that I would do anything to keep you safe,” he said, pulling you off the stool to stand in between his legs. His free hand moved to caress your hair, tugging on a strand that had fallen out of the elegant French twist. “Even if it meant I had to leave you.”

“I didn’t really enjoy coming home to an empty apartment,” you said, sadness in your eyes as you thought back to that day.

“Hey.” James tilted your chin up gently. “I swore that day that I’d find you again, even if I had to fight wars for you. I’d get you back and I’d spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“James,” you whispered as you leaned your forehead against his. “You’ve more than made it up to me.” You turned to look at your friends—no, your family. “Look at what you’ve given me.”

It had taken over six months for you to get to the point where you didn’t want to run, and even longer for you to realize that James wasn’t lying. That he really did love you and that he did leave because he wanted to protect you. In the process, you had shed your old life. The old you had died and brought forth a new person. Someone who had love in their life, had family.

Tears rimmed your eyes as you watched them. Bruce and Natasha were giggling as they passed her bottle of champagne back and forth. Clint was softly singing to his children as his wife dozed in his arms. Pepper and Tony were swaying slowly in each other’s arms, whispering too low for anyone else to hear. Steve and Thor were re-enacting some grand story for Wanda and Vision as they laughed.

The sun was beginning to rise over the horizon as it brought on a new day, shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows and casting a halo-like glow around them. They were your angels. Steve, Natasha, Tony, Wanda, Bruce, all of them. But James had been the one to pull you out of a life of no fulfillment. A life of only living for the next paycheck. Now you had a family that loved you, that cared about whether or not you were safe. You had gone through your wars and come out of it like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

“I’ve been reborn because you never gave up on me.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #hannahs3kwritingchallenge

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the-canary · 6 years ago

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Save The Day - B.B (1/10)

Summary: Chasing phantom thieves, saving pretty gals from falling, getting a cool drink with his best pal – it’s just a normal day for Detective James Barnes. However, what if all that falling he seems to be doing is connected to the thief he’s chasing and the gal he’s got his eye on?

A/N: This is for @barnesrogersvstheworld ‘s 3k writing challenge. I have been sitting on this idea for some time now, it might seem a little silly but I hope you enjoy it!

Feedback is always appreciated.

London, England - 1950.

“Did she ‘fa ‘ta do that?” a voice comes in sturdy but with a little static as two pairs of eyes watch the lone figure run through the rooftops, there isn’t much of a commotion this time around since the item that they were “claiming back” was in the hands of a private donor and the rich tended to be the kind that kept things under wraps -- less police, but more dangerous security.

“You know she likes showing off from time to time,” the second figure responds back, she catches her partner running a bit slower than usual before the masked figure slides off a railing. The blond sighs, knowing that there is going to be blood staining their floor tonight.

A second figure drops from her vantage point, as the blond starts her own decent as well, as she hears a police siren not too far from the estate the redhead --now coming her way after quickly changing clothes--

They make their way closely together down the dimming lit and rebuilt London streets to a little cafe that is open at all hours. The third figure, that had been watching over the entire operation via her own little machines, frowns for just a second as the two come up to kiss on her hello on the cheek -- just three working gals getting something sweet to eat after a long day at work.

“Took ya long enough, Noir,” she remarks in annoyance. Her heart still thumping from thinking that the redhead was a younger so a second, but all Noir does is pat the side of her hip and gives the two of them a smile before sitting down.

The blond shakes her head before taking her seat to her, as Noir keeps smiling and orders a drink from the semi-asleep man behind the counter.

They celebrate quietly, for now, waiting for the newspapers to come in rolling once again: THE SECOND JEWEL STOLEN BY THE BLACK WIDOW.

After tomorrow, they would on their way to a new city with a single task in mind.

New York City - 1950.

“So, you’re really thinking about askin’ her, huh punk?” the dark-haired man questions before taking a sip of his drink. The blond contemplated before a smile blooms on his face, as he stares at the little box in front of him --- a ring that belonged to his mother from before the first war had even started that had been safely kept for him by one Winnifred Barnes.

“I think I’ll combust if I want any longer, Buck,” Steve responses with a lovestruck smile that cause Bucky to stop for a moment because why he understood how much a Steve Rogers loved Peggy Carter -- it was crazy to see how far that once 5’2 back alley fighter was willing to go now.

Both him and Stevie had come back from the war, though not exactly as they had left it. James Buchanan Barnes was a decorated war veteran with numerous awards and medals for his valor before and after his time with the Howling Commandos, though that didn’t make up for the arm (a la Stark) and time he had lost when he had been found by Allied troops after he has fallen off the train.

--He hadn’t gotten on a train since could barely handle the sound.

Steve -- well, Captain America to most people nowadays-- had been mourned for over a year and a half before Stark finally found the plane hidden deep within the Atlantic. It took another ten months before anybody heard anything from him again as he had been rehabilitating in secret -- Steve woke up in cold sweats and nightmares after being found, like a younger version of himself all over again and while they were controllable now, he still had them. So, he threw himself into the mantle of Captain America once more, rebuilt the Howling Commandos with whoever was still around and young blood who wanted to get into finishing the fight-- Steve ran around with Pegs, Dum-Dum, Gabe, and Morita as his central group now.

So many things had changed and Bucky still struggled with it all, as he saw Steve whenever he was off a mission and near the area, but their youth had been taken and lost -- Bucky was at an impasse as Steve kept moving forward but unlike Bucky -- Steve had never felt that he had had a future until he came back from out of the ice and now he was certain of what he wanted in it.

“Well,” Bucky begins, “Ya gotta make it a New York wedding, if not my ma will kill before you get to the aisle.”

“Wouldn’t dare,” Steve laugh before taking a sip of his own drink, though neither of them can really get drunk now -- a fact that Bucky doesn’t like bringing up for himself because it’ll just lead to his own set of nightmares to come in and haunt him.

They settle into a steady talk of memories and updates of their old team, as Bucky tries to laugh off that he doesn’t miss all of it -- that he would gladly trade in his badge for another raid with Steve and the former Howling Commandos, was ready the moment Steve called for him. However, Steve thought that the domesticity and familiarity of New York were best for Bucky, especially after what had almost happened.

They makeup talk and pretend to ignore the real issues at hand --Bucky looking like he hasn’t slept and Steve always needing to be somewhere warm-- as they both look forward to Peggy Carter saying yes.

I’m sure you’ll find the right one. All of Brooklyn, hell New York is waiting for that ‘ol Bucky Barnes.

But, the old Bucky Barnes was dead. There probably wasn’t going to be a fairytale ending for him at the end, he can’t help but think bitterly over as he walks back down to his Brooklyn apartment.

If he really thought about, Bucky wasn’t really sure when it was the last time he had touched a woman, though he was sure it had to b before the war. The thoughts of finding the perfect gal and starting a little family of his own went down after every year -- and now Steve was getting married before him, he wasn’t so sure how to feel about that besides the happiness that came with Steve living past their youth.

It’s when he’s in his darker thoughts that he feels a slight bump near his shoulder and a grasp on his right wrist that he freeze, ready to bring back that old familiar training before he notices that the person who grabbed him is a dame -- a very pretty dame.

“Excuse me, sir,” she sniffs a bit as she motions to her foot barely above the ground, “Could you help me?”

Bucky blinks for a moment before nodding, as the dame tells him that she had fallen and had been walking alone in her new neighborhood. Blue eyes widen as he places a charming but empathetic smile on.

“Good thing ya found me, ma’am,” he answers back as he places her arm over his neck before picking her up with the left one, “Detective James Barnes, at ya service.”

She gives him a timid smile before giving him directions, as Bucky can’t help but think that maybe Steve had been right -- just this once.

#shotthroughtheheart3k #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #40's bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes noir au #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #series: save the day #fabiola trying to write

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sparingiscaring · 2 years ago

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... Bag A Legend Rights?

it was a moral requirement of me to draw this

#dame talks fallen london #dame's art #oc: wadiya babar #my ocs #listen #wadiya?#they're aroace. still. but. that's a bat #it's an exception #they're not kissing it btw they're biting his lips #not sexy either #in a ''i want to taste your blood'' way #which is. you know that's a sentiment that could go either way #REGARDLESS #BAL rights.

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gingerlexi2897 · 5 years ago

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Our flight landed at Charles de Gaulle (boke) at about 8 in the evening on the 30th of July and we emerged into the surprisingly chilly, smoke-filled air of Paris. Doing our best to avoid what quite possibly could have been a group of professional chain smokers, we grabbed an UBER into the city and headed for the home of our friends. Jean and her husband Philippe were kind enough to open their home to the insanity that is Erin, Itty, Mum, Dad, and I and allowed us to stay with the two nights we were in Paris. To give a little background, Mum and Jean had gone to high school together in Kansas and reconnected a few years ago while they were both back in Manhattan. We even got to see Jean and Philippe this past March at a wedding and shared with them our summer plans and they graciously invited us to come see them.

After the mission trip to London last summer, Erin was able to spend a few days in Paris and help Jean bake cookies at her shop in the 2nd district. She was probably the one most excited for this part of the trip and specifically about being able to go back for a few days to introduce Itty to Jean, and show us the city she had fallen in love with. All she had talked about since we had booked the flights from Vienna were the pastries, cookies, and wine, so you know we were all on board with that.

Since we really only had one full day in the city, we were determined to make the most of it. Paris is one of those cities that does not really wake up until around 11 which gave us the chance to take the morning slow and meander around the 2nd district, searching for baked goods and coffee. I went into this part of the trip realising that there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to make it through Paris without eating gluten and resigned myself to that the first night when we had pizza. I embraced the pain and ate the best cookies, pastries, and crepes I’ve ever had and honestly, loved every minute of it. Now, I’m not saying this just because I might be slightly biased, but next time you go to Paris, you HAVE to go to Jean Hwang Carrant for cookies. I still dream about her amazing Nutella cookies.

Once the city, and us, had come alive, we took our time taking in the architecture of the picture-perfect Parisian streets and the bustling life that filled them. We walked through the Galeries Lafayette with its stunning stained-glass dome and stopped by Jean’s pop-up shop in the Citadium near the Opera house to refuel after our walk. (I’m not kidding when I say these cookies are fantastic.) About mid-way through the day, Mum and Dad went their own way while the three of us set off in the direction of Notre Dame and hopefully, food. Once again we were reminded of the fact that Itty does not like our tendency to power walk. After a sad viewing of the cathedral and a disappointing lunch, we caught the metro in the direction of the Eiffel Tower with a stop to the grocery for wine and cheese on the way. Avoiding the mass number of tourists and dog poo, we spent the afternoon on a bench people watching and most likely being people-watched until Mum and Dad called to tell us they were underneath the tower. We had planned to walk back toward the Louvre together, but Itty, Erin, and I were in such desperate need of the bathroom at this point that we told them we’d see them there.

After we each spent €6 on Cokes for the sake of a clean bathroom, we hopped on the metro and rushed to the Louvre for our 8pm booking to tour the museum. While we were looking forward to the wide range of art the museum had to offer, we all know why we were really there. The Mona Lisa. Like any normal museum, they gave us a map as we entered and it even showed us specifically where she was supposed to be. Now, we were on a wee bit of a timeline since we had dinner plans in place but we still had time to take in a decent amount of what was on display. We scanned our tickets and started off for the Renaissance paintings, taking our time to stop and look at the sculptures along the way. There was a surprising amount of people at the museum for 8 o’clock on a Wednesday evening so it took us a little longer than anticipated to reach the correct room only to discover upon arrival that the Mona Lisa had in fact, been moved. Oh yes, instead of being in the room on the first floor of that wing, she had been transported to a room on the second floor of another wing. The map had lied.

Slightly annoyed, we turned ’round, grabbed Mum and Dad, made our way back downstairs and out of the wing. Halfway through the atrium, Dad tapped out and found a bench to sit on while the rest of us, with determination in our hearts, scanned our tickets for a second time and rode the escalator up. We get to the first floor and see a sign with a photo of the Mona Lisa and the number ‘2’ and an arrow pointing in the direction we were to go. Promising, right? Wrong. We rode the escalator to the second floor only to discover that we had to keep going up. 5 floors later, we made it. We wound our way through the ropes, excited about the chance to finally see what is probably the most famous painting on Earth. We had so many questions in our heads, “how big is it really?” “Does she smile?” “How do her eyes follow you everywhere?!” We turned the corner and there she was….well, I think. She was so far away in a giant glass case and security kept yelling at us to move even though there were only a handful of people in the room. We took a couple of blurry photos, tried to see if she smiled, and were shoved out of the room. All of that for a total of 30 seconds and a few blurry selfies. “Ballad of Mona Lisa” by Panic! At the Disco may or may not have been passive-aggressively played on Spotify as we walked down the 6 flights of stairs to the atrium.

After what seemed like forever to get out of the museum, we walked back to Jean’s where we ate dinner with her family and laughed about our recent trip to the Louvre and shared about the week we had at camp. The next morning we said our goodbyes to the family and caught our UBER back to the airport anxious for the beautiful, green countryside of Scotland that was waiting for us.

Lexi

This was also the part of the trip where we started to collect songs that represented different stages of the trip. For those of you interested, in Paris we had:

Au Revoir (Adios) – The Front Bottoms

The Ballad of Mona Lisa – Panic! At the Disco

Phantom of the Opera (duh)

Does Mona Lisa Smile? Our flight landed at Charles de Gaulle (boke) at about 8 in the evening on the 30th of July and we emerged into the surprisingly chilly, smoke-filled air of Paris.

#art #cookies #croissants #Eiffel tower #europe #friends #history #jean hwang carrant #level airlines #louvre #mona lisa #museum #paris #photography #travel #uber #vienna

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jisforjudi · 6 years ago

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Finty Williams: Me and my mum, Judi Dench

As Finty Williams stars in a role her mother, Judi Dench, played to acclaim, she tells Andrew Billen about the joy and pain of being in a famous family

Andrew Billen

September 28 2018, 12:01am, The Times

During a play’s rehearsal period, the most likely moment a journalist will interview its star is over lunch. This is often unsatisfactory. The reporter finds the actor’s mind still half in the rehearsal room; the actor, between answers, barely gets through a sandwich. So I am pleased that Finty Williams, who is in a revival of Hugh Whitemore’s subtly anguished 1983 play Pack of Lies, agrees instead to see me at the end of a day’s rehearsals at the Menier Chocolate Factory in south London.

Now we are talking in its bar, however, she seems to me exhausted: vulnerable and unsure. It is a perception, admittedly, enhanced by her pale skin and slight frame. Still, it cannot be good when an actress answers a question about what she is doing next with “probably run a cat home on a Greek island” or describes herself as a participant in a race in which her mother is hundreds of places in front of her.

Judi Dench is a subject hard to avoid when interviewing Williams, and impossible to do so today. This is the first London production of Pack of Lies since it opened at the Lyric Theatre, London, in 1983 when Dench was cast in the very part that Williams, her daughter, plays now. When I ask if this a coincidence, Williams’s riposte is: “You’d have to ask somebody else that.” I could, but what could the theatre say other than that she is the best actress for the role? No doubt she is, but in a wicked world where publicity angles sell tickets, the reply might not tell the whole story.

The play is based on a true espionage case from the early Sixties. The Jacksons, a suburban London couple, are approached by Special Branch for permission to spy from their bedroom window on their friends, the Krogers, across the road. The Canadian bookseller, Peter, and his vivacious wife, Helen, are, in fact, Soviet spies. Williams plays Barbara Jackson, whose fate is to discover that she has been lied to by Helen and must betray her best friend back. In a coda, we learn that she dies soon after the Krogers’ unmasking. This is not true of the real “Barbara”, Ruth Search, but the play ends with a death knell.

An intense day of rehearsal, I suggest to Williams, sensing her mood. “Really intense because it’s a play about spies, obviously, but it’s also a play about friendship,” she says. Friendship, I shall discover, is a delicate subject for her.

Williams, who was 46 this week, remembers finding the play intense in performance when she first saw, or rather heard it, many times, from the Lyric’s dressing room. She was 12 and her father, Michael Williams, was in it too, as Barbara’s husband. Her godmother, Barbara Leigh-Hunt, played Helen. “I remember being very upset by the end,” she says. “Really shocked.”

Dench and her husband acted on stage several times together, and enjoyed it. However, when Dench became M in the James Bond franchise in 1995 and when, four years later, she won an Oscar for Shakespeare in Love, equivalence in their two careers was destroyed. Michael Williams was hugely proud of Dench, their daughter says, but Hollywood can be “quite a ruthless place if you’re the plus-one”. She says: “I think he found that very difficult.”

The question that she will have heard before (oh, imagine the number of times) is how difficult it is for her, as an actress, to be the daughter of Britain’s greatest actress. Her sensible reply is that if she had entered the profession wanting to be either as good or famous as Dench, she would have set herself up for a fall. She did not. The problem is other people. “A lot of people want to go, ‘She’s not as good as her mother,’ which is true, but I can also name you another 80 people who probably aren’t as good.”

Does it piss her off? “It pisses me off being pre-judged. That pisses me off, pisses me off hugely. Just because I don’t think it’s fair. I don’t know whether, if your father is a brain surgeon, people go, ‘He’s not as good a brain surgeon as his father.’ I don’t know whether that happens, but because of who Ma is, a lot of people have an opinion, which they form before they get to know me or before they see what I can do.”

A terrible thought occurs to me. Theatre critics go on for so long in this country that there must be at least one who will review this new Pack of Lies having seen the original. (Sure enough, I later find The Guardian’s Michael Billington reviewed it in 1983 and singled out for praise Dench’s “totally unpatronising portrayal” of Barbara. As she tended to, she later won an Olivier for it.)

“Oh, don’t worry,” Williams says. “I’ve had that thought about a month ago. I’d put about £100 on the fact that it’s going to be mentioned at least once. There’s no escaping that. There is no escaping the fact that people are going to go, ‘Well, she’s not as good as her mum was,’ but do you know what? I’d really like people to come and see it with an open mind.

“If it was Grand National day, she [Dench] is up and leaping Becher’s Brook and I’m in the novice race at the beginning, and you think about all the hundreds of actors between me and her. She is jaw-dropping, but I also happen to think that Helen McCrory is jaw-droppingly brilliant. I happen to think Ruth Wilson is jaw-droppingly brilliant. Zoë Wanamaker. I don’t aspire to be any of those people. I’m me, and I’ve got the cards that I’ve been dealt.”

Her hand is undoubtedly a tricky one, not because she is not close to her mother, but more likely because she is, very. In her twenties she lived with her parents in London, notoriously burning down their house one night having fallen asleep next to a lighted candle. “Just a shit thing that happened,” she says, unhappily. In her thirties she lived with Dench, who was by then widowed, in Surrey, and although she has long since moved out, she talks to me of the “production” that Christmas Day always is for the family in her mother’s home.

She had not intended to follow her parents’ vocation. As a girl she aspired to be a dancer, but did not grow into the kind of willow that was prized. Instead she successfully auditioned for a children’s TV show and, while continuing with her A levels, went into a play with McCrory. At the Central School of Speech and Drama she tellingly studied musical theatre, a genre that her mother was not known for. Her final college show was A Little Night Music. A year later, wouldn’t you know it, Dench won an Olivier for the musical at the National.

That was in 1996. The next year Williams, then 25, became a single parent (the father’s name has never been made public). Neither Dench nor her husband discovered she was pregnant until a few weeks before Finty gave birth. Dench’s director at the National Theatre, Richard Eyre, later said that Dench was “massively wounded” by not being told — although it is likely that it was Michael Williams, a traditional Catholic, whom Finty had feared telling more. In the end, naturally, Williams Sr came round. “Who couldn’t be pleased with Sammy in your midst,” she says. He is now 21 and travelling. “He’s an excellent chap.”

Since Pack of Lies is about secrets, I wonder what her take on that period of secrecy is. “Oh, man! No, it is not helpful. It was something that happened to me when I was really young,” she says, adding that she should be allowed to move on from her mistakes. “Bringing it up brings back those old feelings. ‘Oh yes, I remember how that feels: it makes you feel pretty shit.’ ”

After her father died of lung cancer in 2001, Williams hit some terrible times, but pulled herself out from under them four years later when she entered a clinic for her alcoholism. She has not drunk since. “It was a whole mixture of things . . .” she begins and peters out. Her head sinks almost until it hits the table. “I suppose a lot of it was I didn’t feel pretty enough, or talented enough, or funny enough, or interesting enough. I always felt the most interesting things about me were things that weren’t about me.”

But possibly to do with her parents? “Yes. And not many — and I really do stress not many — but there are a few people I have met in my life who have reinforced that feeling. Maybe they were friends with me for reasons other than being friends with me.” This was all a long time ago, she says. She is now “incredibly happy”, “very well” and “very, very content”.

“It doesn’t mean I still don’t sometimes feel how I used to feel, but now, what do I do now? I watch reality television and I drink tea and I eat a Terry’s Chocolate Orange and I get on with it.”

She has done rather more than that. She has worked consistently as an actress, in films such as The Secret Rapture and Gosford Park, on television in Cranford and Born and Bred, and most frequently on stage, including with her mother in The Vote at the Donmar Warehouse in 2015. Performing at the Globe in Nell Leyshon’s Bedlam in 2010, she met the actor Joseph Timms and they have been together ever since. With Timms, she says. she “won the lottery”.

“Genuinely, I am so content. Funnily enough, about two months ago somebody sent me a thing on Facebook and it said, ‘Wanted, person 40 years plus, to go out to a Greek island to look after 55 cats for seven months. Accommodation supplied. You will be paid per month. Please apply.’ And do you know what? There was a part of me that thought, ‘Yeah, I could do that.’

“We’re all puppies at the end of the day. We’re all puppies who do a job and go, ‘Please like us! Please like us!’ I needed that at one point in my life. Actually, I’ve got to a stage where I could go and look after 55 cats on a Greek island and I would be just as happy.”

I really hope she doesn’t because while she may not be the marvellous Dame Judi, plenty regard her as the marvellous Finty Williams. This is not flattery. After we part, on good terms I think, I contact three directors who have worked with her.

The first to reply is Michael Attenborough, who as Richard’s son knows something about families that cast shadows. Directing her in JB Priestley’s Dangerous Corner four years ago, he discovered, he says, a “Rolls-Royce”. He speaks of her “effortless sensuality”, her “sense of humour” and her “energy within”. “If I was putting a company together I would have Finty in it any day.”

Roy Marsden, best known as Adam Dalgliesh in the ITV PD James adaptations, directed her in Noël Coward’s Volcano in the West End in 2012. He extols a “delicate, beautiful talent” with whom it was “a delight” to rehearse. “Her facility as an actor is enormous, but her own self-doubt, I know, frightens her. Yet as soon as she walks on to the stage from the wings it all disappears and you go, ‘Wow!’ ”

Finally, the actress Eve Best, who directed her as Lady Macduff in Macbeth at the Globe in 2013, comes back to me. “Finty,” she says, “has that rare mix of heart-shattering vulnerability and a sort of flinty toughness that says, ‘Don’t f*** with me.’ Utterly brave, utterly generous, ready to put her heart on the line.”

Attenborough says one other thing. In rehearsal Williams, he says, “gives everything”. He is not at all surprised that I should find her somewhat spent by 4.30 in the afternoon. “She gives her all.” She has given me her all too. Next time we meet, let’s settle for a lunchtime sandwich. Pack of Lies is at the Menier Chocolate Factory, London SE1, to November 17

picture credits

1) Finty Williams and her mother, Judi Dench (DAVE M. BENETT/GETTY IMAGES)

2) CHRIS MCANDREW FOR THE TIMES

3) Jasper Britton, Chris Larkin, Macy Nyman and Williams in Pack of Lies

4) Williams in 2000 with Michael, her father, and DenchMICHAEL CRABTREE/PA

#judi dench #finty williams #pack of lies #1888 #28sep2018

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doctorbethanysartblog · 7 years ago

Photo

Notifications:

A follow up

Honeydew @ Minecon @Honeydew

@CptSparklez and @Bluexephos it’s been a year and you two have fallen asleep in the hotel foyer

Honeydew @ Minecon @Honeydew

One I want to say happy anniversary

Honeydew @ Minecon @Honeydew

Two don’t think you can escape the party again like last time

Honeydew @ Minecon @Honeydew

Three I apologise for this picture

Honeydew @ Minecon @Honeydew

Ya’ll gonna get spammed

–

Nebby-chan reblogged damespacealot

[image] [image]

thattherevalgirl

These are only a few pictures that came from Honeydew posting; the amount of sparkles people have added is ridiculous

Damespacealot

It’s midnight in the uk isn’t it? Are they still asleep? Have they seen these?

nebby-chan

Yes it is midnight, there hasn’t been any response.

Source: thattherewalgirl 843 notes #Only time will tell if they are going to be annoyed #I highly doubt it after sjin posted that picture of the dance last con #at least they are all tasteful

–

Sparkles@minecon @CptSparklez

Morning

Sparkles@minecon @CptSparklez

I saw what you all did

Sparkles@minecon @CptSparklez

My twitter notifications have blown up with well wishes though and I thank you guys for that

Sparkles@minecon @CptSparklez

Now have a cute picture of my boyfriend who is still asleep

[image]

Sparkles@minecon @CptSparklez

He needs to wake up soon, he promised me a day in London for the anniversary

–

Sparklez Cadets - skype conversation

10:28 GMT

(Commander)

How was con?

(Void)

It was great! Nebby didn’t faint this time.

(Nebby-chan)

Void did faint because he got to meet radders.

(Void)

shhh we don’t talk abut that

(Nebby-chan)

You were retweeted 172 times

(Void)

SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(Damespacealot)

i am glad you two enjoyed yourself

(Damespacealot)

anyone want to watch old mianite episodes?

(Nebby-chan)

I would like that very much Dame.

–

Nebby-chan reblogged captainvoid

[image]

Expressshipping

My favourite photo from last night is by far just this renaissance ass looking thing that syndi took, how did he get that high and WHY WAS HE UP THERE

Source: Expressshipping 3421 notes #for the amount of people that are there you can really pin point who is who #is that nano stuffing her face with hotdogs #is that bekkii wearing cat ears #is that mark on the floor

–

CptSpakle

[image]

3289 likes

CptSparkle Liquid Nitrogen Ice Cream!!! <3 #Yum #Supercold #Xephosiscold

Doradog Where is that?

Sunday At the market!!

–

Nebby-chan

[image] [image]

Nebby-chan

Sparkles photos from instagram from today in which he gushes about food and takes artsy photos of Xephos and it’s all quite adorable

3422 notes #CaptainSparkles #BlueXephos #This is all quiet adorable

–

Xephos @Bluexephos

I’m not one for sappy tweets or anything like that but

Xephos @Bluexephos

<3 <3 <3

#xephlez #yogship #yogships #FOLLOW UP #yes i got instragram for t that one photo

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otakuemilee · 7 years ago

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Just my thoughts on death note NETFLIX movie

So i watched the death note movie last night and GOOD LORD it was bad I mean if i had never seen the original I might have actually liked it but since I have there was so many plot holes and scences were missing most not even all of charters were off and a bunch of other stuff

(I’M CURRENTLY REWATCHING THE ORIGINAL SERIES )

Side note sorry for the spelling errors and missing words I wrote all of these at 12-3 in the morning

Holy shit this is so American right off the bat

3 cop cars lights blazing with in the first minute

Pft light Turner ( is he related to timmy Turner from fairy odd parents

Kay so misa is a cheerleader now ?kool I guess

Light Turner:that smart guy who dose other people’s math home work

Creeper stop looking at the cheerleaders creep

So misa is the head bitch of the cheer team?

In case if you forgot where the movie took place, there is a highschool/collage football team practicing with the cheerleaders neer by

Oh misa smokes now also during practice?also also where the hell did the cigeret come from and how is fit already lit?

Boy notices girl (I bet they are going to do it later on in the movie ()

“Fuck I think she likes me even though we probley never met before ” look

Edgy title sequences with flashing different colours

+ Roll credits

None of the T’s are side ways nor upside down

Oh shit rave time

Oh shit sudden winds

Did she inhale he cigeret ?

Oh geez the note book has fallen from the sky

Oh shit right its right beside me

Let’s grab it

Roll credits

Now it’s raining suddenly everyone run away

Bullies sucks

Classic I’m gonna beat up up and steal your money

Girl tries to be tough only to be pushed by the bully and guy yells out after catching her “DON’T TOUCH HER”

OH SHIT SMART GUY HAD BEEN HANDING OUT ANSWERS TO PEOPLE

smart guy tries to make the principal see the bigger picture of things for students

Why did light lose his mom at a young age

In the anime he had his mother why the odd detail of a lost one to justify the guy HANDING out answers to people and to be edgy ????

Kool girl can’t talk to the edgy guy of the school

Random ass jumpscare Falling asleep in detention cliques

Why did you have to push all the books off the desk you could have placed them on the desk either side of you? Also why all the books anyways ?

At least they kept the rules of the book right

Why dose the writing end here ?

Holy fuck flashing lights,damn it the power when out why?

WHAT THE FUCK MARBLES

Why are there millions of marble in here in a glass jar some where back there

“Anyone there” clique

What’s with the millions of jars in the front or back of the class??

WHAT or who knocked this over?

AH BIG SPIKY THING

HOLY FUCK IT LOOKED AT ME

*nocks a shelf down by falling into it from fear*

Random winds indoors

Locked door when shits going down clique

Light Turner is a little bitch

Screams for a whole minute quite to look at shit flying around the class room screams like a little bitch again

Oh shit everything stoped and this room is a mess I’m going to be untroubled for this

My Apple has been ate *dun dun dun*

Ah A DISIMBODY VOICE

Main character thinks they are sleeping in a odd senerior clique

“Eight foot demon lookin mother fucker” -light Turner

Was just freaking out a second ago but listens to what the “Eight foot demon lookin mother ” has to say and dose the thing he says to do

Oh shit that chick is getting bullied what do I do?

“Let’s kill them by writing their name in this ‘death note ”

God damn I know you want this person to die but by decapations that’s a little fucked up mate

I was right God damn, that’s disturbing! A fucking lader to the face , it didn’t even take the head completely off just where the mouth separates

Also the girl and that guy now needs some deep mentle health help now that shits gonna stay with them forever now

OH DAMN SON THAT’S NOT RIGHT

Oh shit I was talking to the demon lookin mother fucker and now he gone but the powers back on and the class room is a mess

-12 minute mark

Oh look the book I just used to kill that dude like just pick this back up and act like nothing happened

Awkward dinner with my father (OH shit wait where’s lights little sis?) With a earth quake happening at the same time

Mubble mubble? Mumble . Mumble mumble mumble? Mumble mumble? JUST SPEAK CLEARLY PLEASE

SO the mom got ran over and died and apparently talking about this makes light angry as hell?

Time to use the death note to write that guys name down or wait what don’t trust ryuk?

AH DEMON IN MY CLOSET

Let’s toss a Apple in here

“2 days? Wow your fingers are huge ”

Causal steals evidence from the folder of your dead mom’s case

Out of pure spite I’m gonna kill the one who killed my mother

That felt good

WHAT THE FUCK Hollywood I get it more blood the better but god damn vomitting blood after falling neck first onto a knife that’s just gross and yes shocking but ewwwwww

Fuck ryuk looks fucking creepy as fuck,

Also why is ryuk so sinnicual in this in the anime he’s just like to as you want I’ll be right here eating all of the apples

Let’s read this thing out in public no one will notice except my crush

Cheer leader girl is kinda messed up

Oh wow your name is Mia,U COULD HAVE KEPT THE NAME MISA

-22 minute mark

“ I can’t tell you what this is but if you really want to know lemme tell you all about it”

Girl thinks u are batshit crazy son

Out of everything they kept the hostage scene ???

Oh damn you killed a man I believe everything you say and do now

Back to the whole sub plot of mommy died now I’m emotionally dead inside and now I have this book I can feel something now

“ Let us make a new world light”

Takes the lady up to his room and I told you they were gonna fuck

“Lets kill every one bad to fine the good”

“ be named kira” “why kira ? What dose it mean ?” “I means light in Celtic or Russian like that ” ^— it means killer in the translation to English or to (*キラキラ*) shine/glitter in japanese you twat also Russian yes but it means like the sun And no way is it even close to having a Celtic background it’s Greek meaning lady

Okay they kept the prison scene but to a minimum

Why the fuck is L at the scene of the crime??? Why didn’t they cast him like the fans wanted, who cares about a diverse cast , we want the quirks of the actual charter to be shown

If they cut out the whole tennis since I’m gonna be sad and if they do the whole tough black guy thing I’m gonna be really upset with the character

What’s with the random ass song ???

No really wtf

A SINGLE SONG PUTS THE GREATEST DETIVE TO LIVE ASLEEP DON’T LET ANYONE KNOW ABOUT IT

WHERE’S MY OLD MAN WATARI WHAMMY ?

dose the dad even have a name or naw

Wahhh that was watari singing that random add song??? Why is he japanese he was a English gentalman(kinda)in the anime ????

WHAT NO WHY?

L IS A CLEAN FREAK NO CANDY IS SPLIT NO WHERE WHY YOU NO SIT CORRECT KNEES TO YOUR CHIN FEET ON THE FLOOR GOD DAME IT

but hey you have the room of which they meet in so I guess that’s cool or are you gonna gloss over that and not show the task force guys ?

Apparently talking about killing people gives Mia a boner good to know

NO TASK FORCE ? THE FUCK

JAMES TURNER WHY?????

OMG JUST EAT THE ICE CREAM YOU DICK

L WHAT NO THIS ISN’T HOW THAT HAPPENED THE PUT A FAKE

WHAT ABOUT THE SHINIGAMI EYES MOTHER DUCKED? WHERE S REM? MISA SHINIGMA WHAT ABOUT HER HUH? YOU MISSES A CRUSAL PLOT POINT DUMBASSES

ALSO IT WAS OVER A LEADERS CONFRENACE OF HEAD POLICE FORCE PEOPLE NOT A TYPICAL ONE COME ALL REPORTER MEET AND GREET

NO VOICE MODOFACATIONS EAITHER??? REALLY?

Hahaha they kept the stalking of light

WHAT THE FUCK happened

Let’s do all live interviews with a mass killer on the lose

Let’s drop all of the f bombs man screw ratings

WHO MADE RYUK THE GOD OF ALL SHINIGMAS? DID THEY NOT LOOK AT DEATH NOTE THIRTEEN? ALSO WHO MADE THIS BOOK?

LET’S JUST BE DICKS IN PUBLIC TO EACH OTHER

UM WHAT IS HAPPING

NO NO NO NO NO NO

THE DEATH NOTE DOSENT WORK LIKE THAT YO,U CAN’T KILL OFF THE ONE CHARATER THAT LEADS TO SOMETHING IMPORTANT ASLO MIA YOU MORE USELESS THAN THE CHARTER MISA AT LEAST SHE HAD THE SHINIGAMI EYES AND HAD A NPTE BOOK OF HER OWN AND ACTUALLY DID THINGS

WHAT THERE IS NO RULE 89 Its FAKE you idiot There’s only 6ish rules and they have the simplest of loop holds but misa can see them too she knows more than you do about the death note light Turner

Uh no what the hell is st.martains orphanage in Montauk IT WAS WHAMMYS ORPHANAGE IN LONDON ENGLAND WHERE MELLO,MATT AND N AND I GUESS BB LIVED AND WORKED ON BECOMING THE NEXT L BUT WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT

??? Rochester wards what the hell is that??? I mean yeah sure yeah you got that part right about becoming great detectives but it was only yo become a sucesor to L Because he had a few months to live or whatever the time ACTUALly was

????? Now this is bull shit locking children away to make them stay sane? To be come a great deftective and the rest of which you are saying is shit , La in his thirty or so cause MATT and mello and near are all in their 20s or a wee bit older

Fuck this movie man

L looks so week in this like yeah watari is basically L’S father and what not but the guy I know and looked up to is being please as a guy who can’t do anything for him self watari this watari that I get it but there are things of which I don’t get about this portrale why dose he sleep for — amount of hours when we takes cat naps through out the day OKAY THIS TAKES THE FUCKING CAKE L IS RESTRICTED BY A POLICE OFFICER THIS MAN KNOWS HOW TO EVERY FIGHTING TECHNIQUE LNOWN TO MAN BUT GOD FORBID A OFFICER TAKES HIM DOWN AND HEY LET’S TAKE THE MOST MENTAL STABLE MAN EVER AND TURN HIM INTO A NEVIOUSE MESS

SO WAIT NO TRAPS IN THE ROOM NO PENCILE IN THE DOOR NO GOOD FUCKING PARTS TO THE ORIGINAL YOU PEICE OF GARBAGE CREATER

THE ORIGINAL HAD A BETTER SOUND TRACK AND NOT SOME CHEEP OVER USED SCARY MOVIE BMG

THAT’S HOW WATARI DIES IN THIS SHITTY VERSION A SAD PATHTIC DEATH

WHAT THE FUCK there are no rules you twat

This movie honestly broke my heart turned L into a shallow mess of a characterwhich made him look so week skipped a bunch a details that made the anime what it was it slipped over MAT,mello and near and the final battle at the end misa sucked a lot the final scene really is the point where ryuk writes lights name in the book but booboo Mia had to write it and blah blah blah I AM THE FINAL BATTLE AND THERE IS 21:48 LEFT TO THIS SERISE WHAT THE FUCK IF GONNA HAPPEN??? WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENES

NO BOTH OF THEM DIES ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME THAT’S HOW THIS SHIT ENDS OH WAIT NO SINCE LIGTS PAPER GOT BURNT IN A FIRE MEANS THE BITCH OH LIGHT ISN’T KIRA BECAUSE HE SAW HIS NAME A PAPER AND THESE DOSNENT HAPEN BECAUSE OF THIS AND THAT YOU MESSED UP BIG TIME MOVIE ALSO FUCK THE THE RULE OF WHO EVER TOUCHES THE NOTE BOOK SEES SHINIGAMI

FUCK THIS MOVIE TO THE FULLEST EXTENT THIS DID NO JUSTICE YOU THE ORIGINAL THIS WAS TERRIBLE AND I VERY MUCHED HATES HOW THE ENDING TURNES OUT FUCK YOU ADAM WINGARD AND ALL THOSE WHO HELPEd make this

Side note

WHO the hell comes into someone’s house and is all like HI yeah I know I don’t live here but gtfo the adults need to speak

#death note #netflix #i wasted so much time #please don't let this go mainstream please #for the love of god

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helloworlddemo1122-yahoopar-blog · 7 years ago

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Disney Announces 'Aladdin' Casting, Previews Live-Action 'Lion King,' 'Dumbo,' 'A Wrinkle in Time' and More at D23

Walt Disney Studios used a portion of their live action panel during their fan expo, D23, to set the record straight on some recent rumors. "Some of which are true and some of which are not," president Sean Bailey explained.

What's not true? Rumors that the studio is having troubles casting the live-action Aladdin. Mena Massoud (Jack Ryan) will play the prince of thieves, Naomi Scott (Power Rangers) is playing Jasmine and Will Smith indeed has been cast as the Genie. This new iteration will pull from the animated classic, as well as folk tales of the 1,001 knights.

Disney is also in pre-production on Mulan, while Dwayne Johnson is fronting a Jungle Cruise movie. Meanwhile, Tim Burton's live-action Dumbo recently began production in London, with a cast including Colin Farrell, Danny DeVito and Eva Green, as well as an adorable model of Dumbo himself, who is three and a half feet of adorableness, with sparkly blue eyes and giant, floppy ears. Dumbo will hit theaters on March 29, 2019.

One final announcement previewed director Jon Favreau's The Lion King, with a teaser of the opening scene of baby Simba -- who is so cute -- being painted by Rafiki and presented to Pride Rock. The footage is STUNNING. That all came in addition to Walt Disney Studios' scoop on their other films...

Disney & Pixar Animation at D23: New Details on 'Frozen 2,' 'The Incredibles 2,' 'Toy Story 4' and More!

A Wrinkle in Time

No one was happier to be at D23 than A Wrinkle in Time director Ava DuVernay, who took the stage alongside her cast: Storm Reid, Reese Witherspoon, Mindy Kaling, Chris Pine and newly minted Disney legend, Oprah Winfrey. "I just gotta say, I'm so excited to be here," DuVernay squealed. "I was walking the floor yesterday and I was like, 'I found my tribe.'"

The movie is an "updated" and "inclusive" adaptation of Madeleine L'Engle's 1963 novel, about a girl named Meg (Reid) whose scientist parents discover proof of the wrinkling of time and space. When her father (Pine) goes missing, she sets out on an adventure to find him and ends up encountering three "very unusual" women: Mrs. Whatsit (Witherspoon), Mrs. Who (Kaling, who reveals her riddle-speaking character now quotes Jay-Z) and Mrs. Which (Winfrey).

As for what attracted Winfrey to the project, she said, "It is a character who is one of the wisest women in the universe and is an angelic celestial being who is going to get to wear amazing costumes...who wouldn't say yes to that?"

D23 was treated to a special teaser trailer, and it's hard to describe the beautiful, bizarre visuals within, but oh my goodness, the costumes. After debuting the film's teaser poster, Oprah hilariously shouted to the crowd, "You get a poster! You get a poster! Everyboooody gets a poster!" A Wrinkle in Time hits theaters on March 9, 2018.

MORE: Kristen Bell Confirms 'Frozen 2' Release Date With Adorable 'Weather Forecast' -- See When It's Hitting Theaters!

Mary Poppins Returns

Perhaps no movie received a bigger round of applause than the sequel to Mary Poppins, set 25 years after the original film amid London's Great Depression. The Banks children are all grown up and Michael (Ben Whishaw) has inherited the iconic home on Cherry Tree Lane. But after losing his wife, he and his family have fallen onto hard times. Enter Mary Poppins, with Emily Blunt taking the reigns from Dame Julie Andrews.

"I always found the film incredibly magical. I just wanted to be the Banks children," Blunt said, admitting that when she was tasked with playing Mary Poppins, she only re-watched 15 minutes of the original. "Nobody is ever going to out Julie Andrews Julie Andrews."

Director Rob Marshall, with live accompaniment by the Disney orchestra, previews "a taste of what's to come" in the movie: The Cherry Tree Lane home in disrepair. A kite blowing in the wind and Lin-Manuel Miranda's lamplighter Jack helping pull it down, revealing Mary Poppins floating amid the clouds. Then there are rapid-fire shots that reveal Meryl Streep singing, partially animated sequences, loads of dancing through the London streets and Dick Van Dyke dancing on a desk. Mary Poppins Returns hits theaters on Christmas 2018.

EXCLUSIVE: Mandy Moore and 4 Other Disney Princesses Dish on Sharing the Stage at D23

The Nutcracker and the Four Realms

Disney's take on the iconic ballet will officially be in theaters on Nov. 2, 2018. It's the tale of a young girl, Clara (Mackenzie Foy) who receives a music box with a cryptic note that reads, "Everything that you need is inside." With a key nowhere to be found, she must explore the titular four realms "that will lead her to her destiny."

In an exclusive first glimpse, Clara makes her way through each realm, including the Land of Flowers, the Land of Snowflakes and The Land of Sweets, which is presided over by the Sugar Plum Fairy (Keira Knightley with cotton candy pink hair). Still, I have a feeling Helen Mirren's wicked Mother Ginger -- and her insane wig -- will be all that we talk about when Nutcracker premieres. Or perhaps this take on the Mouse King, who will be a CGI creation made up of thousands of mice -- does that sound like a nightmare to anyone else?

brightcove

#_revsp:new_provider_with_logo_342 #_uuid:0a6d8f90-6569-3211-a5af-cb304359c45d #_lmsid:a0VK0000001yfWcMAI

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smallgeneration · 6 years ago

Text

caveu des oubliettes

There was something about that jazz club, a magical quality bordering on the sinister that promised a good time remembered through the haze and headache of next morning’s hangover. Le Caveau Des Oubliettes. Tucked away down a crooked and cobbled pedestrian alley in the upper West corner Paris’s fifth arrondissement, it was the perfect club to lure tourists into thinking they’d discovered a hidden hotspot, an underground local scene on a wandering night out in the City of Lights. The place was dark. The big window in the front of the bar was tinted a deep red, and the black awning that loomed over the door was emblazoned with a medieval font that during the daytime appeared cheap and corny, a nowhere place between Notre Dame and the Panthéon one might pass while getting lost. But come midnight, and the sepia glow of the streetlamps cast jagged shadows over the rough stone walls of that ancient building, silhouettes danced to muffled jazz in the dim glow of the red window, and the place transformed. It became Somewhere.

My first night at Le Caveau was a Friday in mid-September, two or three days after my arrival in Paris. By accident or some cliché fate, I had fallen into friendships with two girls who, like me, were artist-writers taking gap years or time off school to live and work in the historic Shakespeare and Company bookshop, which was located around the corner from Le Caveau. Anneli was a writer and photographer from the farmlands outside of London, and our friendship began my first day in Paris when, within five minutes of us meeting, she declared us kindred spirits on the front stoop the bookstore. She later introduced me to Jess, a poet from New Zealand, who was on fall break from an undergraduate study abroad program in Lyon. At twenty years old, Jess became mine and Anneli’s adopted big sister, for we were only eighteen and had recently finished high school.

That mid-September Friday night began with a shared bottle of cheap wine on a bridge over the Canal Saint-Martin, where I met up with Jess and Anneli at around 8pm. After a small epidemic of bedbugs had forced them out of their free lodgings at Shakespeare and Company indefinitely, they were now crashing at a friend’s apartment in the 11th, a short walk from the Canal in the Folie-Méricourt district of Paris. Lou, the tenant of the apartment, met us briefly on the bridge where Jess and Anneli introduced us, and she expressed her disappointment in being unable to join us on our night out. She had already made plans with her coworkers at the café that ajoined the bookshop, where she had befriended Jess and Anneli weeks earlier. I was immediately blown away by her inherently French beauty and her generosity in offering me a place to stay the night, in case I wound up too drunk to return to my youth hostel. She said explained that though her apartment was small, there would be plenty of room if I didn’t mind sharing a the couch with Anneli or a cot on the floor with Jess, and I happily thanked her for her kindness.

As Jess, Anneli, and I finished our bottle of wine, we discussed our plans for the evening. We were to rendezvous with Harry, a young Australian street musician who often busked in front of Shakespeare and Company and was recent acquaintance of Jess’s, before buying more wine. Then, we would wander into the nearest bar or club providing live music for a night of adventure and dancing. For my first night out in Paris, Jess and Anneli wanted to give me “an authentic experience of the city,” which would only amount to a realized dream we’d read about in books and watched countless times in our favorite movies.

An hour later, Anneli and I were following Jess to our meeting point with Harry. The Oberkampf station let out onto a corner of Boulevard Voltaire, where the Metro Café was nestled beneath a large wall mural of an ostrich that glared down at us as we danced and sang Edith Piaf’s “Non, je ne regrette rien” and waited for Harry to arrive. Anneli and I thought it would be funny to take off our shoes and dance barefoot on the streets of Paris, and though it was chilly, we were warm with adrenaline and cheap wine. Jess was on the phone with Harry, who had gotten lost, and she was too drunk to be giving directions. She kept saying, “Look for the ostrich! We’re dancing under the ostrich!” This sent me and Anneli into a fit of giddy laughter as we spun ourselves dizzy and wound up giggling, sprawled out on the dirty sidewalk.

“What the hell are you lot doing!” came the drunken shout from down the street. Anneli and I sat up, grinning and out of breath, as Harry ran up and greeted Jess with a hug. He turned to us and extended a hand. “Don’t you know the streets of Paris have got to be the the filthiest in all of Europe? What! Not even wearing shoes?”

He helped me and Anneli to our feet. He was already drunk as well, a tall sand-blond boy with red cheeks and an infectious smile, and as Jess introduced us another girl walked up, stunningly gorgeous and smiling expectantly.

“Guys,” Harry said, putting an arm around the girl, “This is Belle, my friend from high school. She’s visiting from Australia for the weekend, so I thought she should come along for the night’s festivities.”

We were more than glad to have another member in our party, and it wasn’t long before introductions gave way to the quick and close kind of friendships that fall into place on drunken Friday nights. It was just after 10pm, and our next step was finding a liquor store.

After discovering I was from Nashville, Harry seemed to forget my name. He bought two six packs of beer to share, and as we drank more and wandered into 11pm, he began referring to me only as Nashville, and the nickname stuck. Soon Jess, Anneli, and Belle were all calling me by my hometown, and I was either too drunk or too happy to have made friends to be bothered by it. I taught Belle racy French phrases, Harry gave Anneli a piggyback ride, and Jess passed around her cigarettes for sharing. In barely an hour, we had become inseparable companions, talking and laughing as if we’d known each other for years.

The plan to locate the nearest live-music club proved to be futile. We were lost, drunk, and had to retrace our steps once or twice to retrieve a shoe that Anneli kept dropping. Harry resolved to call the five of us a taxi, remembering a flyer for a live jazz bar somewhere near the bookshop. We piled into the cab, the extra beers in my tote bag clinking against my shoes and scores of loose change. I stretched across Harry, Belle, and Anneli in the back, and the driver amiably indulged Jess’s front-seat request to play “La vie en rose” on repeat throughout the drive. He laughed at our attempts to make drunken conversation, and I remember saying something like, “Je parle mieux le français quand je suis bourrée.” The blur of the cab ride dissolved into a series of dizzying sounds and images, saxophones and red lights, kisses and tequila and barefoot dances in the stoney cavern of that magic magnetic jazz club.

Le Caveau des Oubliettes is made up of two floors. The first is where the bodies form a roiling congestion of arms, heads, and torsos, where elbows needle evanescent pathways to the bar. The arms toast overfilled whisky tumblers and splash their contents to the floor. Heads balance cigarettes behind their ears and crane their necks to locate the bathroom door. Torsos rub against strangers and smell of sweat, cologne, and smoke. French, English, German, and Spanish all blend into a cacophony of conversation, punctuated by the wail of a horn section and the crash of drums emanating from the ground below. The room is small and cramped, and in the far left corner is the bar where the tenders take hasty orders and don’t bother saying more than the price of the drinks and merci.

In the far right corner is an arched stone doorway that leads into a steep and narrow set of stone stairs worn slick with age that descend into what was once a medieval dungeon. A set of iron bars line a diamond-shaped window cut from the ancient walls of the stairway, and through it you can see the small stage where large French men in velvet shirts and cowboy boots improvise funk and jazz under psychedelic blue and purple lights. The stairs let out into the middle of the room, and whether the floors were dirt or simply dirty I can’t remember.

We sat in the back, squeezed around the only table in the room. Of the thirty or so people in the dungeon, only a handful were dancing while most sat on small wooden stools, mesmerized by the music. When the waitress came to take our order, she wouldn’t serve us until Anneli and I had put on our shoes. We did, ordered a glass of wine each, and Harry ordered a beer for him and Belle. Jess ordered absinthe, le fée verte, as a testament to the writers and legends of the bygone Paris we secretly hoped we could recreate.

On the wall above her head, I noticed that carved into the stone was the year 1467. America suddenly felt like a dream, a world as lost and unimaginable as it would have been to the men who once were held captive within these walls. The concept of time was now blurred, becoming medieval, Renaissance, Belle Epoch and Roaring Twenties all at once.

While Jess and Anneli chatted with Belle and her history with Harry (they had dated once, in high school, but were just friends now), Harry and I were absorbed in the music. We talked about the colors and the tones of every chord, becoming more deeply entranced by the major-minor shifts and transitions from rock to funk, from funk to classical jazz, and at one moment, the groove was so powerful it sent us leaping to our feet with a shout.

“You get it, Nashville,” he exclaimed, squeezing my hand. “You really get it, don’t you?”

We stayed for an hour or so, laughing and making toasts to Paris, toasts to the cave, toasts to each other, until the music ended and the band packed up to go.

After that night, we became regulars at Le Caveau. I ended up moving in with Jess and Anneli at Lou’s apartment, where I lived for the next three months, and after Belle went home to Australia, Harry remained a member of our small gang. We spent our days writing songs and poems, reading books and frequenting Paris’s many museums, but our nights inevitably culminated at the jazz club. We remember stories from those nights in jumbled drunken vignettes, filling in each other’s blacked-out details where we can, but many of our memories have inevitably been lost to that time vortex cavern. For a while, we believed that “le caveau des oubliettes” meant “cave of the forgotten,” and we thought it perfectly appropriate, like some poetic justice that made our drunken antics somehow more meaningful.

“Le Caveau des oubliettes” actually translates to something more like “vault of the dungeons,” as Lou later informed us, and though we were disappointed in its lack of poetry, the place never lost its magnetism.

Many months later, after our gang of expatriates had since returned to their native countries and Lou moved back to her hometown in the French Alps, I travelled again to Paris, and found myself drifting through those cobbled streets behind Shakespeare and Company in search of our old jazz club. But Le Caveau des Oubliettes was gone, its red window covered with faded flyers and a handwritten note that simply read fermé. Whether it was to be closed forever or indefinitely was unclear, but it left me with an eerie, ominous feeling of loss. I thought that if I could just go inside, dance again within those ancient stone walls, I might remember. Remember what, I didn’t know, but I could hear it echoing somewhere behind those locked doors, somewhere deep in that crypt of all the lost and forgotten details of those nights.

#stories

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