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jermer10 · 10 months ago

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TF2 relationship hcs + miss pauling

suggestive, gn reader | silly romantic hcs

drabbles under the cut :P

Scout:

- the most emotionally immature out of all the mercs, also the most inexperienced with dating so he can get pretty jealous over stupid things - a demo flirts with you? dead. a medic pockets you for too long? whoops didn’t see that enemy sorry medic. god forbid another scout even breathes in your direction - ironically he used you to make Pauling jealous and eventually realised he actually likes YOU (fake dating trope my beloved) - non-stop rambles about you to his ma, when she meets you she’s already calling you her child in law - dates with scout usually consist of going to baseball games or getting lunch together, he’s pretty simple and won’t plan anything too extravagant unless it’s an occasion (with spy’s help ofc) - not huge on pda, will hold your waist or sling an arm around your shoulders on occasion, in privacy however he is HUGE on physical affection he loves you sm <333 - stroking your hair and running his fingers along your back, kisses on your neck, throwing in a couple of cheesy pickup lines here and there - pretty much only refers to you with pet names, “doll, babe, toots, handsome, etc” he’ll only use your name when he’s emotional or during intimacy

Soldier: - the most dense man on god’s green american earth so unless you’re similar to zhanna, chances are he won’t even bat an eye at you. you need to be batshit and violent for this man to notice you first - wakes you up at 5am sharp every morning for “training” (forcing you to workout with him whilst he yells at you….lovingly?) expect to be buff as hell after a couple months because his routines are intense - “DROP AND GIVE ME 20 CUPCAKE” “GOOD JOB SOLDIER. HERE IS A KISS FOR YOUR HARD WORK” “PUSH THROUGH THE PAIN SWEETHEART” - his kisses are really rough, he lifts you up into the air and spins you around or dips you and it’s genuinely super sweet, he enjoys picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as well :3c - he has no jealous bone in his body, only random accusatory statements towards anyone who shows kindness towards you and it deters them enough for soldier to never have to worry - dates with soldier usually consist of working out or going to war museums, will never plan fancy dates so that’s all up to you - does not care about public or private affection, he will makeout with you anytime, anywhere and is unapologetic about it, much to everyone else’s dismay - “EUGH! GET A ROOM YOU TWO!” “AFFIRMATIVE, WE WILL MOVE TO THE LIVING ROOM”

Pyro: - i hc pyro as being aroace so a romantic-platonic relationship between you guys would be more mushy and cute than anything else - going out on ice-cream dates and buying matching colouring books and seeing how differently you each colour the same scene - cheek kisses no matter where you are is a must!!! holding hands around the base, tapping on each-other when bored and to show affection <3333 - the other mercs have no fucking idea what your relationship is but none of them care as long as you’re keeping pyro in check - you’re the first and only merc to see pyro without their mask on, one of the most tender moments shared between you and something that they treasure - pyro doesn’t get jealous, but they will harm anyone who makes you uncomfortable, no questions asked - cuddle buddies!!!! you guys can be seen lying around the base in a sleepy huddle, i can see demo joining and medic or engie tripping over y’all 😭 - they are super attentive of your needs and compromise despite having trouble feeling romantic or sexual attraction, as long as you enjoy it, they enjoy it

Demoman: - more of a flirt than scout is, and that’s saying something. demo will chat you up at any time of the day, whether it be in the privacy of your bedroom or straight up on the battlefield - has died MULTIPLE times because he just cant keep his eye off you, he makes mental notes of how attractive you look while bashing an enemy spy’s brain in and uses it later (WINK) - a solid 80% of your relationship is shared in silly drunk moments and the other 20 is rooted in insecurity. demo being jealous? likely. demo being scared of you leaving him for someone with two eyes and their head on straight? definitely - there are nights where he feels completely sober just holding you in his arms and acknowledging that you’re here and you love him, warts and all - SUPER BIG ON PDA!!! he wants the entire world to know that you’re his, also super big on cheesy nicknames “beauty, my love, handsome boy/beautiful girl/gorgeous partner” - messy kisses, lazy cuddles, dragging his fingers along your body feeling every dip and curve <3333 even if the affection seems half assed, his heart is devoted to you - offhandedly mentions you to his mum after dating for a year or so, to which her response is to slap him upside the head for not telling her sooner and then asking about grandbabies - you’re demo’s rock, if you asked him to go sober for you he probably would. he adores everything you do, words are unnecessary just look at his face

Heavy: - the stern and silent type, he generally doesn’t show public affection towards you unless it’s to protect you or to calm you down - in private he is the most gentle merc, holding you close to him and stroking your hair, playing with your fingers and mentally squealing at how cute and small they are compared to his, rubbing your back with his palm - he is a man of few words, but it’s pretty obvious that he is completely enamoured by you just from the way he touches you and how his gaze softens when he sees you - would plan the most personal dates, things that he KNOWS you would enjoy doing or seeing just so that he can see you smile up at him - “Любимая (darling), Дорогая (dear), Любовь моя (my love)” are the most common pet-names you’ll hear him calling you, he’s a more traditional guy - heavy is not a flirty man, he’s too blunt and would rather say what he means in the most direct way possible. thaaaat doesn’t mean he discourages you from flirting with him however - his family is extremely weary of you to begin with, heavy doesn’t talk about you much and so they’re going to be on guard (despite the fact that he could crush you with one hand if you did have malicious intent) - after a while though they warm up to you and consider you apart of the family- baking with you, teaching you how to hunt bears, making bearskin clothing, cooking the bear meat, talking about marriage and children, ANYTHING they can do to include you

Engineer: - it’s tough dating engie - he’s either working or passed out from the exhaustion of working, so you never really get quality time with him - he still takes every chance he can get to show you a good time, whether it’s cooking dinner with you or writing songs for you, he is much more romantic than he leads on - “darl, darlin, sweetheart, honeybee” sweet and simple names that roll off the tongue - the merc most inclined to shower with you. not even in a sexual way, he just enjoys the calm heat of the water and how intimate it is to share such a space - creates devices to make your life easier; need a new weapon? no need to buy a faulty mann co one, he can build you anything you want. need your very own kitchenette so you the other mercs can’t keep stealing your food? he was already drawing up the plans a week ago - the type of guy to bring you breakfast in bed every morning, putting on some slow romantic music and peppering your face with kisses to wake you up - always keeping tabs on you in battle, making sure that you’re safe and unharmed (despite knowing that you can respawn he still hates seeing you hurt) - the least jealous man to exsist, he is completely secure in himself and knows that if you didn’t wanna be with him, you simply wouldn’t

Medic: - another workaholic over here, it’s a mission getting him away from the operating table, or his desk right next to it - quiet, soft moments are few and far between, but when you do get them they are spent in each other’s arms lazying around the base - medic isn’t the romantic type and would likely just take you out to a traditional dinner or would want to teach you how to perform certain medical procedures on dates - don’t get him wrong! he loves you entirely, he just doesn’t see the need in being overly romantic with you, his way of showing love is letting archimedes anywhere near you or letting you lie on the operating table while he finishes up his paperwork - his pet names for you include “schatz (treasure), maus (mouse), meine taube (my dove)” - will pocket you 1000% and the other mercs HATE it - they have to strategise a way to keep you separated from eachother during battle - it wouldn’t matter if you were invincible or on the verge of death, this man would protect you to the ends of the earth. that being said he is also a massive shithead, will tickle you randomly or poke fun at you when you’re in a bad mood. its sweet. usually - in that middle ground of jealous but also chill af, he will only really become jelly if you’re flirting with someone else, but if they’re flirting with you he does not care unless you’re uncomfortable

Sniper: - simultaneously the most chill and anxiety ridden person on earth, the way he can go from 1 - 100 in five seconds should be studied - it takes him a VERY long time to actually warm up to you, let alone DATE you, so be wary that you’re in it for the long haul if you want this man - the first 6 months of dating are torturous for the both of you, he is far too nervous to touch you and instead of telling you this he will literally just ignore you, but once you start being physical he is one of the most touchy mercs - you will have to be the initiator in most situations until he becomes more comfortable with affection, this man has spent most of his adult life in a van isolated from society so its no kidding that he would be awkward with you (even though he adores you) - “love, babe, darling, honey” generic nicknames, if he’s feeling more comfortable he’ll use “sweetheart” or “roo” if you’re getting on his nerves - he doesn’t do dates. like sorry to burst your bubble but he would consider eating dinner together in his van or even just having a bath together a date - extremely jealous but will never admit it and it is VERY obvious. this could be said for most of his feelings though and reassurance is all he really needs - will spy on you using the scope on his gun during battles, killing enemies who might try to sneak up on you <3

Spy: - spy is by far the MOST romantic merc out of the bunch, will take you out on date nights every week, intimacy regularly, affectionate both in private and public, etc he is the dream - in saying that he is also a player, he needs a partner who can keep him feeling fresh, and someone who is just as cunning as he is - will intentionally try to make you jealous in order to get a gauge on the kind of person you are. he is entirely mind games babe and will play it off as if he doesn’t care about other people trying to flirt with you (he wants to kill them with his bare hands) - he is either going to be obsessed with you or mildly attached, there is no in between and it will be strikingly obvious which it is - often refers to you as “mon amour (my love), beau/belle (handsome/beautiful), mon bébé (my baby)” - most likely enemies to lovers, if you’re good at your job he sees you as competition, if you’re not he sees you as a nuisance, either way you’re initially a problem to him - but then he starts to wonder: why can’t he stop thinking about your skin? and the way you say his name? and the way you bashed that sniper’s brains out? he is smitten without even realising it - occasionally cloaks and follows you around to keep you safe from enemies, but mostly sticks to trying to win the match

Miss Pauling: - if you thought engie or medic were bad you have NO idea with pauling, she quite literally has one day off a YEAR - and you bet your ass she is spending it in bed all day cuddling with you - doesn’t use pet names, she’ll either call you by your last name, or some nickname variation of your first name. she called you “babe” once and cringed so hard she couldn’t even look at you - as much as she doesn’t want to put you in any danger, she LOVES bringing you along for missions. she gets to finish earlier and spend time with you, its a win-win situation - coming home from work and eating dinner with you is the highlight of her day, she could be completely exhausted and yet you bring life back into her with just a smile - yes you had to “fight” scout for her and there was absolutely no competition, he didn’t even know you two were together until she rolled her eyes and kissed you in front of him (he was surprisingly supportive) - she’s far too busy to be jealous, if someone was flirting with you she wouldn’t even notice until it escalated and the person was on the floor with you standing over them triumphantly - she dreams about being able to go on museum dates with you one day, but for now bubble baths, dinners, and morning kisses are all you both get <\3

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #miss pauling #tf2 miss pauling #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 imagines #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #jermer10

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corcnaiism · 1 month ago

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───※ ·❆· ※─── shipping sheet received from @lunaetis 🚢 For Eden and Sunday.

do i ship our characters together?: yes ( feels like a shakespearean play but that's just my hc ehe ) | no | not yet but maybe soon

would i like to ship with you?: yes ( 👉👈 ) | maybe, i'm willing to try | no

type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes ( a random thought just popped into my head about like what if in a past life, they were a thing or something without the current state of affairs like they were both normalish until tragedy struck and eden forget everything and sunday had to forget about her bc she just kinda disappear for a long while and he didn't want to hurt anymore sp POOF there goes his memories ahah just food for thought. you don't have to agree :3c ) | engaged | married | long-term relationship | crushes | unrequited love | fling | long distance | online relationship | just dating | new relationship | toxic lovers | friends with benefits ( those last two really just be on sunday's side ahah )

would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first ( bc i really wanna know your stance first and foremost since i have my own dumb thoughts, and i don't want it to get in the way of yours, so if you're interested no matter what type of dynamic they have, i'm more than willing to talk it out and listen :3c and also bc sunday is a pain in the booty kek ) | jump right in | something in between

what now?: let's plot something | send me shippy memes | i'll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i'll write you a random starter ( arms are wide open to receive anything and everything tbh )

anything else i want you to know about me / my character / my shipping habits: ( ummm well sunday is just a huge mess in regards to anything really. he isn't one to reciprocate feelings genuinely at first bc he doesn't have time to mingle with others that have nothing to do with his major plan. sure, he'll mess around here and there, but never take things too far. he's human in the way where he wants a meaningful companionship that isn't his sister, but he is stubborn af to admit it and seek it, so he is in a constant struggle with himself but at the end of the day, he'll just erase his memories so he won't have to deal with the pain like any normal person would do ahAh )

#lunaetis #;asks #𓍢 ・{ asks } ʰᵉᵃʳ ⁿᵒ ᵉᵛⁱˡ.#:^)#feel free to disagree #tbh !!#i just think your eden is neat #:3c

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honeylikewords · 5 years ago

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How does out Agent Jack Daniels break out of his nerves and asks his lady love on a date? Or does the natural rhythm of their relationship lead up to it? Xxx thank you :)

Aw, this is so sweet! I’m so excited to be able to answer!

I originally wrote this as a couple of headcanons that followed a general narrative arc that could encapsulate the events leading up to and evolving into his asking her out, but it ended up becoming, well, a 6+k fic-a-rooney. I hope that’s okay!

Without further ado, here we go!

I like to think that Jack’s relationship with his beloved has a long, slow-burning evolution, one that needs to unfold itself naturally and grow stronger over the course of time: as they spend time together and bond over the events that transpire around them, their relationship naturally becomes more intimate and personal. A sort of friends-to-lovers situation, but with a good, hefty dose of mutual (and oblivious) pining.

For as confident a character as he can present himself as being for his job, Jack struggles with a certain grievous anxiety around the mere idea of putting his feelings out there for her to see: what if she rejects him, and he forever mars their relationship? Or, worse yet, what if his confession makes her feel uncomfortable, as if he’s just another man making unsolicited advances on a woman who does not return his interest?

Thankfully, as time goes on and their relationship becomes built on a sturdy foundation of mutual respect and friendship, knowing more about each other, Jack begins to come out of his shell a little, finding himself more relaxed and less afraid of showing affection for her, knowing that she feels safe with him and that his friendliness won’t make her feel off-put.

One way they bond is at the many office-wide mandated functions; “synergy” events are common at the New York Statesman offices, meaning that Jack and his sweetheart end up stuck at some silly corporate event meant to create “office bonding” and “coworker camaraderie”. Neither particularly enjoy the schmaltzy, forced experiences, but they band together to form a team of two and enjoy beating other teams at the teambuilding exercises (Jack and his beloved are absolutely fantastic at charades and Pictionary) and just adore laughing together over some of the more ridiculous activities.

In fact, they owe much of their relationship’s development to these silly corporate interventions; their relationship came to full bloom thanks to one such event.

Corporate decided to send a few of the higher-ups from the Statesman distillation company and their immediate subordinates and coworkers to a ranch out in Arizona for a week-and-a-half retreat meant to “inspire teamwork” and “unification” among the workforce. Jack had absolutely no interest in “bonding” with his coworkers; he became inordinately excited, instead, by the idea of having a pseudo-vacation wherein he could show a more relaxed side of himself to the apple of his eye. He grinned as he read the email announcing the trip and saw her name CC’ed to it: she’d be going along, and he was thrilled to be by her side through the whole thing.

Jack even went out of his way to coyly probe the person coordinating the event into giving the two of them seats next to each other on the plane to Arizona (he chanted “3A and 3C, 3A and 3C” as a mantra to himself giddily over the next few days), and made a point to pack some of his finer clothes in his best luggage to show her that he was a well-dressed and sophisticated man even outside the confines of the office. He had no plans to get involved in any “teamwork”: in fact, he largely planned on slipping away from the conference itself and off into the city with his sweetheart, if he could convince her to go with him. The mere idea thrilled him beyond words: he was going to be able to spend time with her in this unbuttoned, casual setting, and, hopefully, inspire her into wanting to spend even more time with him outside the office.

When the day for the flight out to Arizona finally came, Jack was up long before he realistically needed to be; the flight was chartered explicitly for the company, so the plane wouldn’t take off until everyone had arrived, anyway, so it wasn’t like he was going to miss takeoff. But he simply couldn’t wait: he wanted to be by her side as soon as he could be.

Jack waited in the terminal for nearly two hours on his own, restlessly checking his phone to watch the minutes tick by. Other Statesman corporate workers filed in over time and waved to him, trying to initiate mindless conversation, but Jack largely looked past them and nodded along as they chatted in his general direction, his only contribution being politely humming during lulls in the banter to seem engaged as he watched the crowds milling behind them. He was waiting for her, growing antsier by the second.

After what felt like eons to Jack, she finally arrived, and he’d never felt more floored by something so simple. She entered the waiting area with her rolling suitcase, poring over her ticket intently, barely noticing where she was walking, but Jack couldn’t look away from her, even as she seemed unaware of his gaze.

He had seen her walk into rooms countless times, and while it always made his chest clench, something about the new environs, about seeing her in the real world, away from the office and out here in a space where they weren’t coworkers, just two people, free to be themselves, made the pounding in his heart even more dizzying this time around. Add to that the way she looked and he was doomed.

Jack had become accustomed to seeing her in her office attire, formal and tightly wound, the tones of her clothes muted and respectable, the cuts crisp and inorganic, and while she was beautiful in that fashion, he somehow found her even more breathtaking in her casual wear.

Her hair wasn’t in its usual taut, professional style, but in a loose gathering, a few flyaways and locks slipping down to frame her face organically. She modeled a pair of worn-in jeans and a fairly oversized sweater, the sleeves of which appeared to be too long for her and were thus rolled up to her elbows. He could spy the brown circlet of a hair tie around the graceful bend of her wrist, and found himself, for the first time in his life, envious of a ponytail holder.

Gazing up and down her form, Jack noticed a pop of red and white low to the ground; she was wearing red sneakers. He’d never seen her in sneakers before, and though they were far from traditionally elegant, he felt utterly endeared by the sight of them.

Without his focus keeping it penned in, his imagination slipped free and wrapped itself around him, conjuring for him a fantasy of her wearing such an outfit, carrying brown cardboard moving boxes into his house, her things tucked inside. He imagined her rolling up those sweater sleeves to help him paint their bedroom a new shade, one of her choosing. He saw her sitting between his knees on the couch, eating Chinese food out of the takeout box, her shoes kicked off somewhere, forgotten.

And then she looked up from her ticket and saw him, a smile spreading over her features, and everything melted inside of Jack. She raised her hand, ticket nested between her fingers, and waved at him, swiftly dragging her suitcase and suddenly standing before him, bright-eyed.

“Hey, you,” she smiled.

She was shorter without her heels on.

It filled Jack with complete adoration.

Jack beamed back, half-caught between an urgent, painful longing to hold her cheeks and kiss her as sweetly as the sun kisses her wayward hairs, and between his better senses, the ones rooting him firmly to the floor. He gave her, instead of a kiss, a polite nod of the head, paired with his gentlest gaze.

“Hello to yourself, little lady,” he replied, voice soft. “You look...”

He searched internally for the most flattering yet least objectionable or objectifying adjective he could.

“...Comfortable today.”

Immediately, some part of him balked-- he worried he’d delivered some kind of backhanded compliment, though his intentions had been entirely sincere and adoring-- but she nodded, still smiling, and kicked at the toe of her tennis shoes with demure humor.

“I am,” she said. “You know,multi-hour flight and all; I didn’t especially feel like putting on heels for TSA, either.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jack felt annoyed that she’d had to go through TSA at all; the Statesmen agents all had permission to go through without being screened, and it bothered him to imagine her being patted down by some rough-handed agent. Apparently, his displeasure manifested itself on his face, and she gave him an apologetic, sympathetic look.

“You tired?,” she asked gently, reaching out to squeeze his bicep. He pretended it didn’t send his pulse skyrocketing to feel her hand on him, even though the layer of his button-up and suitcoat. “I know, it’s rough getting up so early--”

“‘M not tired,” he quickly interjected, straightening his posture. “Not at all, darlin’.”

The word slipped off his tongue before he had a mind to catch it, but if she noticed it, she said nothing.

“Well, I am,” she said as she stretched her back, her hand leaving Jack’s arm to support her spine. Jack missed its warmth immediately. “I was up all last night, all... um... thinking about the trip.”

Her voice faded as she chewed her lip, returning to typical posture with her eyes averted; Jack knew she was withholding, dancing around something. He was getting ready to push back and ask her if there was something on her mind when she quickly turned her eyes back to him and switched her expression into a casual smile. He reeled at the hasty shift.

“Anyway,” she clipped, ready to steer the conversation elsewhere, “Where are you sitting? I’m 3A, I think.”

She held up her ticket for him to inspect, finger pointing at her seat number, and Jack couldn’t quite restrain his smile of excitement. From his pocket, he produced his own ticket, finger similarly pointing to his seat number. His beloved peered at the piece of paper held in his tanned hand for a moment, then gave him a bright smile.

“Oh, that’s so great! We’ll be in the same row!”

The moment she spoke that, though, her face fell in apparent disappointment, a little divot of frustration manifesting between her brows.

“But we’ll have someone in between us, won’t we? Someone in 3B...”

He felt his smile spread despite himself; there was something so innocent about her disappointment, something so warming to know she’d have been upset to be separated from him. Shaking his head, he held his ticket out and tapped the seat number twice.

“No, no, hon, seats at the front are in sets of two,” Jack spoke, his voice a low, comforting purr. “A and C are right next to each other. They’re just called that because they’re double-wide and reach as far as an ABC row.”

“Oh! Oh, I had no idea! I’ve, uh, never sat in the front before,” she mused, turning to look out of the vast windows of the airport at the plane they were preparing to board. “The few times I’ve flown, it’s always been, you know, in the tight seats in the back.”

“Well... you’re first-class, today, little lady,” he smiled. “Like you deserve.”

He watched her turn her gaze back to him with bated breath; had he gone a little too far? He scanned her face, but registered no malice, no discomfort: she actually looked sweetly sheepish, a flighty smile making her turn her eyes down towards the carpet. The shyness of it all made Jack ache to take her face in his hands and kiss her, kiss her until she was dizzy. But he abstained, merely squeezing the handle of his luggage a little tighter in absentia of her touch.

“This will...,” she began, trailing off with a distant look, her attention once more turned window-ward. “You’ve flown a lot, right, Jack?”

“Mhm, I have,” he replied. “Why?”

“It’s... it’s always gone fine, right?”

When she turned her eyes back towards him, Jack caught a glimpse of concern within them, a flash of fear.

Something was weighing on her, and Jack was beginning to get worried himself.

Before he could open his mouth and continue, the boarding call sounded. The first-class passengers were invited to board, and Jack and his dearest exchanged quick, conspiratory looks. She gave him a brief smile accompanied by a slight shrug, walking towards the forming line slowly, their prior conversation now dust in the wind. Jack found himself painfully tempted to slip a hand around hers as they walked towards the boarding gate, called to comfort her. He, tragically, did not take her hand.

As they lined up and boarded, Jack allowed her to step in front of him; it was only gentlemanly, after all, to let the lady go first. She acknowledged his gesture by reaching out and touching his wrist appreciatively, her fingertips alighting on bare skin in a way that made Jack’s stomach twist longingly. They were scanned in and boarded the plane, Jack following her along the hallway and up into the plane, his eyes fixed on the bob and sway of her hair, the shift of her gait now that she wasn’t walking in her office heels. He wondered what she was thinking about.

When she crossed the threshold into the plane, she turned to glance over her shoulder, meeting eyes with Jack. His stomach churned as he fretted, wondering if she knew he had been staring. If she had, nothing was made of it; instead, she attempted to hike her suitcase up into the plane, but began struggling with its unwieldy shape and weight, tumbling back slightly. Jack quickly rushed forward to take the handle from her, balancing her with one hand behind her back, clutching his own suitcase, and the other wrapped around her hand on her suitcase’s handle.

Their hands brushed and parted as Jack lifted the suitcase with a strong arm, and he felt a swell of confidence as he carried both his luggage and hers on his own into the plane, even as she quietly tried to give polite protest.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she murmured, following behind him as he stepped forward to push their bags into the overhead compartment. “I-I could have managed.”

“Aw, but it wouldn’t be very polite to let a little lady have to do that,” he replied, making sure to keep his focus on situating the bags in the overhead instead of allowing himself to look at her. “I’d have felt guilty.”

“Well, thank you, Jack.”

His name never sounded so perfect as when she uttered it, and a small tremor surged down his back as he closed the now-full compartment with a satisfying click.

When he lowered his arms and allowed his gaze to return to her, he saw her still standing there. Jack smiled; ever the polite lady, she didn’t want to sit while he was trying to help her. To signify his resolve, he put a hand out and gestured to her seat, silently inviting her to step into the window seat before he took his own next to her.

She nodded and gave him a grateful smile, slipping into the wide first-class seat with a sigh of amazement. She shifted in the seat to admire its spaciousness and amenities, stretching her legs out to their full length and still not touching the seat in front of her. Jack sat down next to her and watched her marvel at the luxury of first-class with a smile; he’d flown first-class many times before and had grown rather accustomed to it, but, through her eyes, was now being exposed to the excitement of it once again.

The footrest of her seat extended out and she made a thrilled giggle, patting Jack’s thigh ecstatically.

“Look!”

“I am looking!,” he chuckled back, putting his elbow on the armrest between their chairs and cupping his chin in his palm, watching her. “You look cozy. Fit right in here, don’tcha?”

“I mean, hardly,” she replied, looking at the panel of buttons on her armrest. She fiddled with a few. “But it’s nice to be able to check this off the ol’ bucket list. Sit in first-class at least once!”

Jack internally logged to himself that if he were ever lucky enough to be able to take her on vacations, he’d make sure to always take her first-class. His imagination, rebellious, summoned a word to the front of his mind; honeymoon. At the thought, his golden cheeks warmed and he turned his eyes away, shifting to sit back in his seat as the last few stragglers headed down the aisle towards their seats, and the flight attendants began their practiced performances.

After a few moments of standard safety announcements and a brief introduction from the captain, the plane began to taxi on the runway, its engines spurring to life with an Olympian rumble. Jack hardly paid it any mind-- he was intimately familiar with the sound of jets, having flown more than a few himself-- but instead looked at his seat partner, who was beginning to curl into her chair, her body bunching up.

He squinted his dark eyes beneath furrowed brows, watching her with growing concern; as the plane began to move faster and rumble louder, her shoulders clenched in on themselves, one hand gripping the armrest nearest him with vicelike strength, the other clutching panickedly at her own chest.

Jack immediately recognized the situation at hand and leaned over to her, his urge to protect far overwhelming any anxiety he harbored about expressing his care for her too intimately. It made him sick to his stomach to see her joy fade so abruptly, and worse yet to see her in such a fearful state; his heart felt bruised, pressed under the weight of her pain, and sinched by his own stupidity. How could he not have pieced it together before?

Without regard for anything but her immediate comfort and safety, Jack placed his larger hand atop hers on the armrest and squeezed softly, murmuring in her ear in his most relaxing, gentle voice.

“You okay there, sweetness?”

“Mm!,” she squeaked unconvincingly.

“...You don’t like flying, right? ‘S okay, dove. ‘S alright, you can tell me.”

She, for a moment, tried to put on a happy, brave face, flashing him an unconvincing smile as she stared fretfully all around the cabin, hearing the plastic casings around the luggage compartments shake against themselves. When a particularly strong burst of jet engine rumblings shook the walls of the cabin, her smile dropped and she let out a meager yelp, turning her anxious eyes back to Jack’s unfaltering gaze.

“I... I really don’t,” she said thinly, her voice wavering as the plane began to rattle as it built up speed for the ascent. Her eyes flickered between his face and the window, spinning wildly as she tried to assess her surroundings. “I hate the noise and I don’t like the shaking and I’m scared of heights and I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing--”

“It’s alright, honey, it’s all gonna be okay. I’m here.”

Jack laced his fingers with her, allowing himself to admire the softness of her palm, the warmth of the back of her hand; he did not, however, let his desire stop him from staying in the moment, present-minded and intent on comforting her. He rubbed a large thumb in tender strokes across the hills of her tense knuckles, shushing her gingerly.

“What would help you right now, little lady?,” he whispered, lips close to her ear to keep their conversation confidential. “What can I do for you?”

Before she could answer, the plane began to rush forward, the speed pushing back against Jack’s chest. This plane was notably faster than most standard commercial jets, and he could feel an immediate difference; Jack knew that if it was a surprising sensation for him, it must have been terrifying for her. As the pressure built in the cabin, she let out a nervous gasp, and Jack leaned in closer across the armrest, pressing his forehead to hers. Pride be damned, he thought: she needed someone to be her side. He looked into her eyes, calm and steadfast, as she drew shallow, anxious breaths.

“It’s alright,” he cooed, pulsing her hand. “I’m right here, and nothing bad is going to happen to you so long as I am.”

“You’re here,” she repeated softly. “You promise everything will be okay?”

“I promise you,” he said once more. “If anything happens, I’ll be here to help you. But nothing will happen; I’ve flown thousands of times, and flights like these are so safe. You’ll be alright, sweet thing.”

The plane trembled as it tucked its wheels up and began its ascent, shivering through the air to try and attain altitude. Beside Jack, his beloved transferred her grip from her chest to his forearm, digging her nails into his suit as she squeezed him tighter and tighter. He felt no pain as she sank her nails in-- he’d endured far worse-- and merely brought his other hand up to stroke at her clenching fingers affectionately, whispering little susurruses of care. She pressed her forehead flush against his as the plane quivered, a thunderous roar issuing from the engines, and Jack whispered to her as best he could over the tumult.

“I’m here,” he chanted, “I’m here, it’s all okay.”

He kneaded her hand in his grasp, massaging the straining muscles and tendons within, his eyes focused on hers; they were screwed shut, tension contorting her features. Jack’s heart grew heavy at the sight, but that selfsame weight only served to strengthen his resolve to help her. He had to get over himself if he wanted to ever be able to do anything for her, he realized.

“You know what?,” he said softly, a playful, comforting smile on his lips. She opened her eyes to look at him and he nudged her forehead with his, toying and friendly. “How about I tell you what we’ll do when we touch down? Will that take your mind off it, sunshine?”

She searched his face, then nodded softly, giving a nervous jolt as the plane tilted back harshly to properly ascend. Jack reached one hand out and rubbed at the gap between her shoulders, pressing against a knot of aching muscle in her back with a loving hand.

“Well, when we get there,” he began, “I’ll get you right out of that airport. We’ll go rent a car, drive off. No more planes. It’ll be morning there, and we’ll go to some little diner and get pancakes. Just how you like them.”

He used the arm around her back to squeeze her tightly, a half-hug as she leaned closer to him, body slanted across the armrest that divided their seats. Her breaths were coming a little more deeply, and the sight of her muscles unclenching comforted him. Taking these signs as an indication to carry on, Jack continued, still rubbing at the line of her spine along her back as he murmured to her.

“And we’ll just drive, take a look at the town. I bet the mountains will be beautiful, all full of snow; we’ll go anywhere you want, anywhere you’re curious about. And we can just stay out, all day, if you like. We’ll get dinner somewhere fancy.”

“Dressed like this?,” she breathed, half-playful and half-anxious, distracting herself with an airy chuckle. “I don’t think they’d let me in anywhere. You? You look perfect, but me? Not a chance.”

“You look beautiful.”

Jack’s words passed his lips before he could consider anything about them, and he pressed on, ignoring his urge to second-guess himself and overthink. He had to get over himself if he wanted to ever be able to do anything for her, he repeated internally.

“And if they won’t let you in, I’ll... I’ll make ‘em,” he grumbled. “I’ll make ‘em let us in. Or I’ll buy you the prettiest new things in all of Arizona, and they’ll have to let us in.”

She giggled plaintively against his cheek, eyes closed, and shook her head minutely, squeezing his palm.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I will,” he rebutted, indignant at the imaginary slight of the hypothetical waitstaff at this dreamed-up restaurant. “And they’ll have to shut their mouths then, won’t they, darlin’?”

“Hush,” she mumbled. “It’s no big deal. We don’t have to go anywhere fancy.”

The plane’s pressure began to level out, but Jack did not let up. He felt so comfortable, so whole, so right, holding her there; he knew this gesture was not just for her consolement. It was for his own, as well: a comfort to the ache of her absence, a salve to the wound of his failed courage.

A silence grew between them as Jack entangled himself in his thoughts; he mired himself in thinking about all the lost chances, all the times he’d deferred to non-action out of embarrassment and shyness and shame, and how he still labored under the conviction that there was no way for her to feel for him the way he felt for her.

Surely, he thought, this was what hell was like: being close enough to hold her, touch her, feel her warmth, yet held apart by the inability to tell her the nature of his heart, separated by the barrier of an unintimate relationship.

And, more literally, by the barrier of the armrest.

“Jack?”

Her voice broke his trance and he blinked, refocusing his eyes on her face. She had opened her own eyes and was gazing back at him, tentative but intent.

“Jack... when we get there... let’s do all that,” she spoke. “But, at the end, how about we just do dinner and a movie?”

His stomach leapt, heart racquetballing around his chest wildly. Before he could even begin to process this new development, she carried on, raising one hand to brush lightly at the shoulder of his suitcoat, her eyes fixed on her hand to avoid the intensity of his face. Jack felt pained; how could she touch him like this, as if she didn’t know what it did to his poor heart?

“It doesn’t have to be anywhere ritzy,” she murmured, picking at a little wayward lint particle on his suit. “I just... would like to, um, be with you. On our own. I think it’d be nice, you know, to have some time to... calm down, right? And be with someone I like?”

Her voice took on an edge of anxious over-explanation as she fiddled with the seam along the edge of his shoulder, and Jack’s hand rose to capture hers, stilling the motion. Both scarcely breathed, barely moved, as he brought her hand back down and held it between them, his thumb following the lines of her fingers delicately.

“I-It doesn’t have to be a date,” she said distantly. “If you don’t want it to be.”

“And if I do?”

Somewhere in the back of his head, Jack barely registered the voice speaking as his own. Whose courage had manifested that? Surely not his own?

But she shuffled closer, somehow, inching her nose against his cheek nervously, and put their held hands together against her chest, where he could feel the softness of her sweater, her breaths rising and falling against his knuckles.

“Then... it can be a date.”

“Well, then.”

Jack leaned back, sitting up straight. She seemed confused, her brow twisting to express her uncertainty. Why was he pulling away? Jack soothed her with a quick flash of a smile, and knew how odd he must have seemed to her, his demeanor so abruptly recalibrated.

But something inside him had changed at those words-- “it can be a date” rang in his head like tinnitus, shaking him down to his very core, trembling every tendon and vibrating every vertebra-- and brought out the best in him; the confident, comfortable Jack surfaced from beneath his sea of fear with a gasp, a breath, a grin.

He took his hand back from her momentarily, straightened his tie, and smiled at her, his face practically glowing golden with all the joy and excitement and disbelief bubbling out of him.

How could this be?, he wondered to himself. How could everything feel so different, and yet, be no different at all? How could he feel so at home, so equanimous and yet so exhilarated? Jack inhaled a steadying breath, calming his thoughts, then carried on.

He slipped his large hand around one of hers, lifting it to his lips and kissing her knuckles-- an indulgence he’d never allowed himself before, but savored, relished, adored-- before humming gently, and holding her hand in the air between them, like a gentleman asking a lady for a dance at the cotillion.

“I’d be ever so honored,” he murmured, rubbing the little hillock of her wrist affectionately, “If you would accompany this poor ol’ loverboy to dinner tonight.”

Unwilling to deny himself even one more moment of tenderness, lest his opportunity be fleeting and quickly vanish, Jack again kissed her hand; he wondered if she could feel the depth of his devotion through that kiss, the unspoken promise that this was no minor tryst to him, no passing rendezvous, but the beginning of something much more, something he intended to make last, forever and always, if he were so permitted.

“Oh, and a movie,” he added, remembering himself. “Dinner and a movie for my girl.”

My girl. The title floated in the air between them, hesitant, but when she smiled at the sound of it, nodding enthusiastically and squeezing his hands with her own, giddy and giggling and beaming so brightly that Jack thought he’d go blind, he felt, at last, relieved. For the first time in what felt like years, Jack breathed a breath of complete and utter relief; she wanted him. The millstone of anxiety had lifted from around his neck: she wanted to be with him.

“Yes, Jack,” she replied, “I’d be very honored, myself, to accompany you.”

Jack found himself utterly speechless; he managed only a disbelieving, thrilled gasp of a sigh, shaking his head as if he thought that the fog would lift and this dream would fade, since it surely could not have been real... and yet, it was. She did not fade.

The two settled into a blissful quiet, watching each other with intoxicated, lovesick, finally-validated expressions; a silent gratitude filled the space around them, shimmering with loving incandescence, and a promise that soon, when finally alone and in the privacy necessary for it, they’d confess how long they’d each been mutually mooning over the other.

Suddenly, the plane bucked, hitting a patch of turbulence, and Jack tensed: was she going to panic? Was she alright? He reached out, hoping to take hold of her and keep her grounded and comforted, but instead of whimpering, instead of clutching, instead of shrinking, his beloved did something entirely unexpected; the woman at his side laughed briefly, high and clear as the single knell of a bell: the kind of laugh one lets out after bumping into someone, almost self-deprecating and relieved. She held his hand and squeezed tight, as she laughed, then met his eyes as she settled, smiling apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” she explained sheepishly. “I just... with everything, um, between us--” --she gestured a finger back and forth between their chests, giggling slightly-- “--I’d actually completely forgotten we were on a plane.”

Jack couldn’t help himself; he, too, laughed that same self-deprecating, relieved laugh, sighing contentedly.

“Then I guess I did my job, didn’t I, sugar?,” he chuckled, taking her chin in his hand.

He hesitated for a moment, hovering a few inches away from her face as he carefully chose his next words. He made direct, sustained eye contact with her asked his question in a low, soft, serious tone.

“Is it alright if I kiss your cheek?”

After a heartbeat, her expression broke into a wide beam, her eyes lighting with warmth.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Thank you for asking.”

Jack returned her smile, the two of them glowing with an almost phosphorescent affection, and leaned in to gingerly press his lips against the yielding warmth of her cheek. He allowed himself to pause, to drift against her skin for just a breath longer than might have been traditional for a first gesture of intimacy, to luxuriate in the bliss of kissing her, however chastely.

As he pulled back, his hand remained against her chin, keeping her gaze focused on his own, and he could see, clear as day, how flustered and giddy she was at the touch of his lips. Between them, the invisible flower of a promise bloomed: there’d be more kisses to come. That much was certain.

Jack opened his mouth, but a voice from behind overtook him.

“Sir?”

A flight attendant wheeling a large metal cart lined with cups and coffee canteens and cola cans smiled down at the spellbound couple politely, and Jack felt his ears and cheeks flush with red-hot embarrassment. He’d entirely forgotten he was in a somewhat public space; the kiss had wiped his head of any thoughts other than, well, of her.

“Can I get you and your wife anything?,” the attendant asked, tone chipper and genial. She seemed to have no idea what she’d done.

Poor Jack’s heart raced with thrill and fantasy and desire and adoration, a giant smile bursting across his face. Your wife, his mind cheered. Your wife! He refused, entirely, to correct the attendant, and instead looked over at his beloved, beaming like a puppy.

“Can I get you anything, lovebug?,” he asked, lilting and loving and lyrical.

He appreciated the way his darling’s cheeks rose in her own coy smile, but appreciated more that she, also, did not correct the attendant. As she silently shook her head to indicate that she needed nothing, his chest swelled with pride and pleasure; no correction came at all. He turned back to the attendant and cordially shook his own head, still grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ll come get you if the missus or I need anything.” He sat up a little straighter at the use of the word ‘missus’. “Thank you.”

As the attendant rolled on, the lovers looked back at each other, but said nothing of what had transpired. Instead, she laid her head on his shoulder and let out a contented giggle of a sigh, easing into him.

“We still have--” --she reached over and, playfully, tugged down the sleeve of Jack’s shirt and suit coat, revealing his watch-- “--about four hours of flight left, you know.”

“Mm,” he hummed in agreement. “And what would you wanna do to fill those four hours, little missus?”

She glanced up at him as he toyed the nickname, smiling with abject affection. Patting his wrist before gently rubbing her fingers up and down the inner, sensitive skin, she chewed her lip in contemplation. Jack watched her, envious that it was not his teeth plumbing the fullness of her lips, tugging so deliciously.

“I think we should get comfy,” she spoke after a moment, “Snuggle up and watch something.”

One of her graceful hands moved forward to tap at the interactive screens built in front of their seats, pulling up a selection of films and television for their perusal. She flicked through the collections page by page, then gestured widely at the screen.

“You pick, Mister!,” she offered, squeezing his wrist. “I wanna see what kind of movies you like.”

Jack smiled down at her as she nudged into his shoulder, cheek squished against his jacket; she looked just as he’d dreamed she would, there, at his side. He leaned a little forward to squint at the screen and flip through the available films, largely disinterested in many of the new releases.

He scrolled until he found a selection of older films, then tapped.

“Sabrina?,” she mused. “I never expected you to be the Hepburn type!”

“Oh, well,” Jack stumbled, a little shy, “If you don’t like it--”

“No, honey, I do!”

Honey.

His knees felt like the word, gooey and molten and warmed. A saccharine grin lingered on his features as the film began, the two of them settling into their seats and into each other, making micro-adjustments to be as near one another as could be.

As the black and white Paramount logo was overtaken by the names of Bogart and Hepburn and Holden, Jack looked down at the woman on his arm, lost, for a moment, in the depth of his admiration for her. His heart felt as if it had entirely left his body, as if his spirit were high above even the cruising altitude of the plane, and yet he was aware of every tiny physical sensation, every brush of her fingers, every whisper of her breath.

He knew, then and there, early as it was, that he was entirely, achingly, irremediably in love with her.

He’d known for a long time, somewhere in the back of his mind, but had never allowed himself to name it, give it credence, give it power through internal confession. He’d imagined it would have to wither and die inside himself, unspoken and unrequited. But now, with her against him, he could allow himself to know it: he loved her. He would continue to love her.

She blinked and looked up at him inquisitively, having noticed he wasn’t watching the film. She caught his eye, breaking his stare, and smiled, eyes crinkling with mirth.

He nearly burst with love.

And now, many days and weeks and months and kisses and dinners and evenings together and external confessions of love and milestones and anniversaries and moving in together and a ring later, he considers that very morning, on that very plane, leaned against each other across the armrests of their seats and watching their movie on that very small screen, their very first date.

#messages #original #anonymous #jack daniels #agent whiskey #gif warning #kingsman #i CANNOT BELIEVE I TOOK SO LONG WRITING THIS JESUS CHRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIST #anyway!!!!!!!!! enjoy i finally wrote something and it's like... 6.3 k or something? for no good reason??

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heretyc · 5 years ago

Text

Short & Sweet Small Outlast Character hc’s [excluding Walrider]

By small, I mean the size of Tinkerbell. I used to do these with my friend but for some reason I can’t find the screenshot of us doing it, so I gotta shoot in the dark. Yeet. Val is in here and she’s her own warning rofl. These are two AU’s put together: the antags aren’t murderous fuckheads [at least towards YOU] and they’re small. Apologies for excluding the Ghost Asshole; I really had no idea as to how I’d write for him. Enjoy!

@nicktremblaywayfu

Nicky boye is in here for you 🥴

Protags

Miles

- If you anger him, he’d misplace your stuff. Your toothbrush is suspiciously gone. Where did your pencils go?

- Don’t bring him out into public cause he’d make you laugh your ass off.

- If someone is a dick to you he’ll throw mini middle fingers to them. It doesn’t do much. But it’s the effort that counts.

- Pretty motivating! You got work to do? He’ll bring you one of your missing pencils [that he totally didn’t take!] and encourage you.

- Hates scissors and anything to do with them. Ensures you use them carefully.

- “Why are you so frightened, Miles?”

- “If Trager sees me, he’ll chop me in half. Recipe for disaster, my friend.”

- “...Fair.”

Waylon

- He doesn’t like how vulnerable he is, so you can bet your ass he’s frightened of everything that could squish him.

- Protect him.

- He’s a total sweetheart.

- If you’re making cookies he helps by licking the bowl, although he can only get through a quarter of the dough before groaning in pain due to how much he ate.

- He can also make cool little designs on them if you ask.

- He can’t hug you properly so he hugs your fingers.

- He attempts to make you feel better if you had a bad day.

Blake

- His glasses didn’t minuscule themselves, so he has to deal with Barbie ones. They don’t have real lenses so he suffers.

- He’s fine and feels okay with his situation as long as Val doesn’t find him rofl

- Don’t let Val find him. He trusts you. [But what if you’re Val in disguise? Don’t tell him that.]

- He tries to be independent, but the last straw was when he couldn’t reach the ON button on the coffee maker. God forbid.

- He enjoys walks! Just make sure he doesn’t fall off of your hand or your shoulder.

- He’s too wholesome for his own good, bro.

- He’s like Miles when regarding work, but he’s more intense. Get your work done! The both of you can enjoy sweets afterwards!

Antags

Eddie

- He’s okay with his situation for now.

- He can put thread through the needle a lot easier now, so that’s a plus. [Although he prefers sewing machines!]

- If you have any dolls he’ll make clothes for them.

- He’s a gentleman so he tries to kiss your hand. Tries. He settles with your pinkie instead.

- If he needs help he’ll yell out for you.

- Imagine trying to take a nap, but you hear “DARLING!”, and you assume something happened.

- You run in only to see he’s smiling like an asshole. He mentions that he made you something and he wants your opinion on it.

- Bastard.

- If he gets mad, he’s quite harmless. That fact alone makes him even MORE angry. Just put him in the corner and wait.

Trager

- HAHAHAAA MOTHERFUCKER

- Ahem. Sorry.

- He gets bored very quickly.

- He can’t do anything that he likes. Including biology work. It’s bullshit. So he complains and drinks one of those mini bottles of alcohol.

- The only thing he can do is help you if you get a cut or break something minor. Like a finger.

- He gets pissed off if he can’t do what he wants due to his size.

- He wants to write “fingers first, then balls, then tongue” on your walls but he can’t ;(

- Take some Sharpie and assist him, won’t you?

- He will, without a doubt, insult people in public if they anger him. His size doesn’t matter.

- “FOR FUCKS SAKE LINDA. MOOOOOOVE. GET OUT OF OUR WAYYYY.”

- “Calm down, Ri-”

- “NO.”

- Then Linda looks back at you in shock and doesn’t believe the fact that a little asshole was screaming at her.

- TO THE CORNER WITH YOU, TRAGER

Chris

- He’s not that scary anymore!

- He is to small animals, though. Mice begone.

- He’s a big boye so it feels like you’re holding a small bean bag :3c

- His nails might give you a small scratch. Have fun trying to cut them rofl

- Beheads your dolls. Barbie is now headless and Ken is planning her funeral ;(

- He still breathes quite loudly, so if you’re in a quiet place you can hear him.

- He’s a nightmare if something goes wrong outside. He wants to resolve the issue by death

- He can’t wrap his hands around anyone’s neck, so...have fun Chris

- Do not tell him about the Walrider rofl

- You wanna see two minuscule assholes battling it out? Then please do mention Walrider

Val [EXCITEDLY RUBS HANDS TOGETHER]

- Affectionate. Too affectionate. It’s suspicious, ig

- Hugs your fingers whenever she wants to, cause honestly, would you deny tiny cultist hugs? No? Didn’t think so.

- Tries to hug your face. And lick it. She has a lot of skin to lick with her tongue being the size of a gummy bear’s ear. Have fun, honey 🤪

- [too sexual to list but she takes advantage of your fingers. enjoy your imagination you PERVS]

- Going outside isn’t an issue. She chills on your hand and doesn’t say anything.

- Bad day? That’s illegal. She’ll take care of you as much as she can.

- If she has her heretics, you’ve got an army of fairy-sized individuals wanting to vibe with you.

- Your hands won’t be able to fit em all. :(

Marta

- For someone being fairy-sized, she’s still quite tall.

- Her axe is now toy-sized, so make sure you don’t step on it by accident!

- Still would chase after things.

- If Val is around, she will be relentless. Do not tell her anything ╰（‵□′）╯

- Stepping on her axe would be like stepping on a Lego. OW

- She likes incense sticks, so give them to her if you can :D

- Her size won’t stop her from liking incense!

- Break off a bit and she can put it in her weapon for floral-scented violence!

- YUM!

- She’ll read with you and turn the pages for you. She’s so nice if you exclude her rampages rofl

Laird & Nick

- Laird’s arrows don’t do shit so he can’t hurt anybody

- LAME

- And you don’t let them go near fire. DO NOT LET LAIRD WITHIN REACH OF MATCHES

- OH GOD OH FUCK

- Syphilis is a pain in the ass so you have to wear gloves handling them, in case their sores pop.

- Laird is an ankle biter [finger biter?] while Nick won’t give you much trouble.

- NICK HUNTING CRICKETS WITH A TOOTHPICK. PICTURE THAT!!

- You help him make salted crickets once he’s done :D

- Give Laird a bible and some bandages and you’re fine

- I know it’s too late but attempt to give Nick penicillin. God knows Nick deserves it

- Knowing Laird he’d make a cross out of popsicle sticks and hang something on it

- DIY Crucifixion

#outlast #little val has my heart #omg #headcanons #outlast headcanons #outlast hcs

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vadersmom1 · 5 years ago

Text

What, Like it's Hard?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21599779

“Help me pick out what to wear!” Tony calls Pepper and Jan, vibrating with excitement. “I… I think he’s proposing tonight!”

“Oh my gosh, Tony! I’m on my way!” Jan squeals. “Pepper, be ready in two minutes!”

They spend 2 hours picking out the perfect outfit. Ty pulls up. As he gets out, Tony walks out the door. “Hi sweetheart.” Tony kisses him on the cheek.

“Snookums.”

Once the Bugatti pulls away, Jan squeals, pulling Pepper into a tight hug. “Oh my gosh! I’m soo excited!!!”

Pepper, the more reserved one, smiles brightly. “Why can I see the three exclamation points after that?”

Jan flips her hair. “Skills.”

Tony and Ty enjoy a nice salmon dinner with roasted potatoes and fried calamari. Right before dessert comes out, Ty takes Tony’s hand. “Snooks, can we talk?”

Excited, Tony nods eagerly. “Sure Ty!”

“Snooks, we have to break up.”

“OF COU- wait, what? Ty? Why?”

“I am transferring to MIT. I’m going to be running Viastone soon, and I need someone serious and useful by my side, not a party animal. I’m sure you see my side.”

“Ty, you can’t be serious. I love you! I thought you were going to propose!” The restaurant grows silent as Tony’s eyes fill with tears.

“Tony… errr… can we not do this here?” Ty shifts uncomfortably.

“Why? You thought this was a great place to break up, why can’t we talk here?”

Ty signal for the check and quickly pays, pulling Tony out after him. The ride home is uncomfortably silent, but Tony doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak.

Ty gets out to walk him to the door, but Tony hops out. Ty grabs his elbow. “Snookums. You know I still love you. I just can’t be with you.”

Tony ignores him as he walks into the house. Pepper and Jam are still here! Jan has a bottle of champagne to open, but seeing his face, she sets it on the table and wraps him in a hug. “Oh baby. What happened?”

“H-he broke up with me!” Tony sobs. “He s-says he needs someone useful and serious.”

“He’s neither useful nor serious. He’s wrong, Tones. He’s a jerk. Take his words with a grain of salt.”

Tony wipes his eyes. “No. He’s right. He has to run a business after his dad dies. He doesn’t need someone like me causing more problems from bad press. So I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m going to serious up. I’m going to transfer to MIT.”

“Tony, you don’t have to prove anything to him.”

“I don’t, but I want to be with him. He loves me, you know. He’s just making the best choice for himself. But if he sees I can be serious and useful, he'll take me back.”

+++++++++

Howard Stark laughs when Tony tells him he is planning on transferring to MIT. “You think you'll get in? Hilarious.”

Undeterred, Tony makes a call to the Dean, who advises he should send over his information as they may have a few openings.

After a few weeks of held breath, Tony gets a letter with his transferal acceptance. Jan and Pepper are happy for him, but they think he’s making a mistake.

He flies to Massachusetts, deliriously happy.

Checking into MIT, he learns he has a roommate – one James Rhodes. Rhodes is in Philadelphia on break so he wouldn’t meet him for another week or so, so Tony sets up his stuff in the room. Tomorrow’s the first day of class! He memorizes the schedule and hall map. Everything is falling into place. Now, to find Ty… Tony drifts off to sleep dreaming about the next day.

Heading down the hall for Lecture Hall 3C, Tony runs into Ty. “Hi Ty!” He says brightly.

Ty almost trips over himself. “Tony? What are doing here?”

“I got into MIT. I’m going to show you I can be serious and helpful in…”

“Ahem.” A beautiful woman cuts Tony off, wrapping her arm around Ty’s back. “Hi love.” She addresses Ty. “Who’s this?”

“Snookums, meet Tony. Tony, this is my girlfriend, Rumiko Fujikawa.”

Snookums?? That was Ty's pet name for TONY! He smiles through the pain. “Nice to meet you. I was heading to class.” He straightens his back and walks past them.

The first week of class, Tony is depressed. He knows his stuff, but he's just not into it. Ty moved on, apparently. Nevertheless, Tony presses on. One little thing won’t bring him down when he is determined.

He stops past a parts store after class and chats with the man behind the counter. A young army vet who lost his arm in Afghanistan, the man could seem to overly threatening to some, but Tony’s sunny personality wins him over.

Tony buys a few new parts for a project while they talk. The door opens and the man stands ramrod straight. It’s just the delivery guy. “What’s up, buttercup?”

James, the vet, grumbles. “Nothing. Pigeon.”

Tony must look so confused because the delivery guy laughs. “He’s just mad because I was Air Force, and he was Army.”

“I see.”

“Sign here and I’ll be out of your hair.”

James signs while saying, “Screw you.” After the delivery guy leaves, he releases his tension. “That’s Sam.”

“He’s cute.” Tony grins.

“Shaddup. Is that everything?” James shoots back good-naturedly.

+++++++++

James Rhodes is tired. His flight was delayed and the cab he took got stuck in traffic. Upon arriving, the dean tells him he has a roommate, some rich transfer kid from UCLA. Daddy probably paid his way on his whim. He knows he shouldn’t judge, but he had to work hard to get a scholarship here, and there’s just so many people who waste it.

Rhodes unlocks the door to his dorm. There’s… machinery… everywhere. This new kid’s a mess. He groans internally. Bewildered, he looks around searching for… where’s my charger? He finds it on the other side of the room from where he had left it. He quickly unpacks and settles into bed. When he wakes up and goes to class the next morning, he realizes he hasn’t seen his new roommate yet. Oh well. Not his problem. He might be better off not ever seeing him.

Engineering class is definitely his favorite even though Professor Ross is a jerk. A little bit racist, VERY homophobic, and with a power complex, it is very hard to get anywhere with him. His TA, Bruce, is a very mild-mannered man. How he puts up with Ross all the time is beyond Rhodes.

When he gets to the classroom, there’s a boy in his usual seat. Wow, he is adorable – his glasses are almost bigger than his face! However, he’s in Rhodes' seat. “Excuse me? This is my seat.” He stands beside his desk. The boy looks up with big doe eyes.

“I sat here all week, and you weren’t here. It doesn’t seem like your seat to me.” He replies.

Rhodes wants to yell and scream, but he’s better than that. He simply just sighs and finds a new seat, one with a much worse view of the board, but, hey, a great view of the new guy!

Ross walks in and asks a question. Rhodes raises his hand and answers. The new guy scoffs. “Are you kidding? That’s not true.” Of course, Ross asks for his opinion. The new guy goes on a long spiel of the ways Rhodes was wrong. The funny thing about this was, he had basically recited the chapter. This new guy just told the book it was wrong! And his points were accurate! Who is this guy? Rhodes is caught between admiring the guy and hating his guts.

Class goes on the same way, this new guy and he were arguing back and forth, the rest of the class enjoying the ride.

The day is over and Tony is tired. He wants to get back to his dorm and work on BUTTERFINGERS a little more. He also has to finish JARVIS' code. He hopes he can use that as his project. Oh, his roommate is supposed to be back today! Tony curses himself because he forgot to clean up. He runs the rest of the way to his dorm. Unlocking the door, he finds the cute guy from Engineering sitting at the desk. The guy stands up. “You? Not youhoohoo.” He groans.

Great. Just one letdown after another. Tony smiles. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time and forgot that you would be back today. I’ll clean up everything. I’m Tony Stark.” He reaches out his hand to shake.

His roomie warily takes it. “James Rhodes.”

“James. Aw, there’s already another James here. Can I call you Rhodey? I’m calling you Rhodey. What are your classes? Mine are…” He rattles off all his classes. He knows he's rambling but he can’t seem to stop.

+++++++++++++

Does this guy ever shut up? Rhodes thinks. And he thinks he can just call me Rhodey because he knows another James.

He ignores Tony for the first couple weeks, only talking to him when needed. Rhodey starts to notice a few things about the guy, though. He rarely sleeps, he doesn’t eat enough, he talks to himself, and he loves to build things.

One night, he overhears Tony talking to “Pepper?” – probably another nickname.“Pep. It’s not doing too great. Ty, he doesn’t talk to me. He’s got this Rumiko chick with him at all times, and she scares the crap out of me. I don’t know, I just thought he’d still want me if I went to this school, too. And I paid attention in school and tried.” His voice cracks. “Uh huh. Mmhmm. Yea, I know Pep.” He sniffs. “I miss you guys so much! Yea. There’s a few people. Steve and Nat are great. Yea, there’s a guy at the parts shop. I think, yea that’s James, I think he’s in love with the UPS guy. I’m gonna set that up. Oh Rhodey?” Rhodes stretches his ears to listen as Tony’s voice drops. “I don’t know if he’s here or not. I think he’s really cool! He’s an engineer and in the ROTC program. I don’t think he likes me much though. He won’t talk to me. Maybe I should stop talking so much. Pep, I know. But just because you like me like this doesn’t mean most people do. Ok, thanks Pep. I love you too. Tell Wasp I said hi and that she better call when she has a chance. I already left 4 voicemails.”

He walks out of his room to see Rhodes at the table. “Oh, hi.” He fumbles with his phone. “How-how long where you out here?”

“Just came in.” Rhodes lies to see Tony’s reaction.

He visibly relaxes. “Oh ok. You just… startled me.”

Rhodes tries to be nice to Tony after hearing this. He will make dinner and give Tony a plate when he’s on a work binge and forgets to eat. They throw ideas off of each other when experimenting for Engineering. Tony tells him about Pepper and Jan (Wasp) from Malibu. He tells him about Ty, and Rumiko, and even about James and Sam. Rhodey gets used to his nickname and end up telling Tony about his family in Philadelphia.

Tony is very tactile. He loves so much, even if the person doesn’t love him back. Rhodey can’t believe he disliked the guy in the first place. One night in January, a blizzard held them inside their dorm. They marathoned all the Star Wars movies. Tony loves Luke while Rhodey is a huge Anakin fan. When Tony cuddles up to him, he glances timidly at Rhodey. Rhodey doesn’t react-it just feels right. Oops… he’s falling for Tony… and hard.

+++++++++++++

Rhodey’s actually being nice to him now! Tony is happy. They worked on BUTTERFINGERS together. Rhodey is great cook – his mom, too. Tony’s had many cookies that she sent up. He’s Tony’s best friend at MIT.

Tony has made several other friends. Natasha is a drama student, Steve’s in for art. Bruce, Ross's TA, is someone who can keep up with Tony’s racing brain. He’s actually interested in Tony’s project.

James Barnes, the parts store worker, is a hoot. Tony feels bad for him, though. He was in a bad relationship that totally screwed him over, and he can’t do anything about it. Now, he really likes Sam, but he doesn’t know how to approach him. He also is convinced no one could love him (compliments of his ex) so he will not ask Sam out. Tony is determined to set them up.

James-“My name's Bucky, kid.”-'s ex is a rich man on the good side of town. Tony wants to get back at him for Bucky. Against Bucky’s knowledge, he sends a package to this Alexander Pierce. One that’s rigged to blow when opened. Two days later, when Tony is in the shop, the man comes in, furious… and with no eyebrows.

“Barnes! I am going to kill you! I have a date tonight with a hot heiress, and you ruined it!”

Doing his best to keep from laughing, Bucky says. “Alex. I have no idea what you're talking about. What happened?”

“You know.”

“Don’t you think that if I wanted to get back at you, I’d have done it 6 months ago? I’m over it and you.”

“You’re going to regret this.” Pierce storms out of the shop. Tony bursts out laughing.

Bucky falls off his chair. “That’s freakin hilarious, but who would’ve done that?”

“Twould be me.” Tony raises his hand.

“I can’t believe you! Why would you…?”

“To show you he’s a big bowl of jerk. And you should not worry about what he says.”

Bucky gives him a side hug. “You’re alright, ya know?”

Sam walks in with a package. “What’s so funny?”

“We-ahh- well, it’s none of your business!” Bucky yells, turning to Tony and cringing so Sam couldn’t see him.

“Ok… sorry I asked.” Sam grins.

“No, it’s ok. I just sent a little bomb to his ex. It was hilarious and well-deserved. He just came in spluttering like a walrus.” Tony says easily.

“Non-lethal?”

“Nope. It killed him. Deserved it. He was a jerk to our dear Buck.”

“Ok. Deserved indeed. Bucky doesn’t need jerks.” Tony can SEE the hearts in his eyes. This needs to happen.

Sam leaves and Bucky sighs. “ I am in love with him. But he’s way out of my league.”

“Lies. You just need to catch his attention. Skinny jeans - put those thighs and that butt to good use. Wear a man-bun to show those cheekbones. Bucky, you’re HOT.” Bucky blushes but follows his advice.

++++++++++++++

Bruce asks a few of the top Engineering students to join a special club headed by Ross and himself. Tony, Rhodey, Ty, and Rumiko are all members. They have to create something to present at a science fair.

Ross is demanding and demeaning. Nothing Tony or Rumiko says goes at all. She stops past Tony’s dorm one night. “Hi. Can I come in?”

Good thing Rhodey’s not here. He’d say no. “Yea sure! We only have one couch, though.”

Rumiko sits down, and they sit awkwardly in silence. “You know, Ross doesn’t like us.”

“Yea, I’m gay and you’re female.” Tony replies.

BUTTERFINGERS rolls up, beeping happily. Rumiko smiles. “Oh my gosh! It’s so cute! A robot.”

“Yea his name's BUTTERFINGERS. I think he likes you. Here.” He hands her a ball. “Throw it. He loves fetch.”

When she leaves, Rumiko touches his arm. “I’m sorry I was such a crappy person. Can we be friends?”

“Sure! See you in class tomorrow?”

Rhodey is skeptical when Tony tells him. “She’s probably just using you.”

“I want to give her a chance.” He says brightly.

Class is the same the next day, but Tony brings in plans. He’s going to miniaturize the arc reactor. Ross laughs at him, but Bruce looks at the plans and believes it’s possible. This is what they’re going to do for the science fair, and if it works, Tony will go places. Ross starts taking his advice over Ty’s. He sounds like he respects his decisions.

After two months, Tony finishes the final touches. The device starts to glow with energy. It powers all the lights in the room. It’s finally ready for the science fair.

+++++++++++

Ross calls Tony into his office one day. “You know, if all goes well, I may ask you to lead a group I run with me. We tour the country teaching science to groups.”

Tony is interested in this so he sits to talk more. Ross stands up to pour them glasses of Scotch. “You know, you’re VERY attractive for a man.” He runs his index finger and thumb over Tony’s beard and cheekbone.

“What are you doing?” Tony leans away.

“Oh, come on. You’re a party boy from LA. You’re as easy as they come. Do you really think you’re smart enough to be in this club?” Tony jumps up, disgusted, and runs out of the room.

He finds Rhodey in the dorm. Crying, he tells Rhodey what happened. Rhodey is furious. “You need to report him. You are the reason we’re still IN this competition.”

There’s a knock at the door. It’s Rumiko. “I thought we were both discriminated against! We were both trying our hardest to get in this! And you have to go and screw the teacher.” She accuses.

“Rumi.” “Don’t call me that.” “Rumiko. I didn’t… I didn’t do anything. I should’ve punched him in the face. I ran out instead. I wouldn’t touch that old codger even if it was the only way I could pass.”

She looks at him warily. “Then why were you in his office?”

“He offered me a job that I’m definitely NOT going to take now.” Tony fumes. “We can get him unseated. I just need you as my witness. Let’s go to the Dean.”

Ross is fired, and Bruce takes his place. Tony’s team wins the science fair. Ty comes over after the fair and asks to talk. “Tones. I made a huge mistake. I didn’t think you could be serious, but I was wrong. I dumped Rumi. Will you take me back? I’m on my knees.”

“Ty. You know I came all this way for you, but I realize now that it wasn’t for you. It was for me to see that I don’t need or want you. I made so many friends here that I don’t regret coming, but I’m done chasing after you. Bye.”

+++++++++

Rhodey can’t believe his ears. Ty is asking Tony to come back! After all that! He can’t hear what Tony said, but he hopes he rejects him. Rhodey will not be able to bear the pain of seeing Tony with Ty. Tony walks back in the room, and Rhodey asks. “What did he want?”

“To get back together.”

“And?”

“Are you kidding me? The guy’s an idiot. Never gonna happen again. Thank you Rhodey.”

“For what? I didn’t do anything.”

Tony hugs him. “You made me realize that I can do so much better than him. I love you Rhodey.”

Does that mean…? “I love you, too, Tones.” A moment of crackling charged air. Rhodey leans down and kisses Tony, who surges up to kiss him back. They take it to Rhodey’s room so BUTTERFINGERS can’t watch. It would feel weird if he could.

++++++++++++

“He told you he dumped me? I dumped HIS butt. Figures. I don’t know what I saw in him. And you KNOW his dad paid his way.” Rumiko rants.

Tony cuddles up to Rhodey and laughs. “I thought as much. I’m glad you saw the light like me. I’m going to introduce you to my friends, Pepper and Jan. You’d love them.”

Bucky and Sam visit a few days later. “I followed your advice. He definitely noticed.” Bucky rambles. “I want to thank you for all your help and for listening to my rants. You helped me see that I am capable of being loved.”

When they all leave, Tony hears JARVIS' disembodied voice. “They all love you, Sir. I am very happy to know you.”

Tony used love and happiness to draw people in and never let them go.

@rocknrollonthat45

#long post #ironhusbands #legally blonde au #i write!#fics #writing

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