#i like how the 'step away from the blonde man' one was essentially their actual conversation in canon
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firethekitty · 2 months ago
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dovveri · 7 months ago
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what if nerd momo x bimbo reader author I need u
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failing maths, but getting the girl
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synopsis: momo and y/n have hated each other ever since an incident in first year. now, y/n's failing a class and momo offers to help.
warnings: mentions of blood and cuts, overbearing parents, drugs, implied sex
w/c: 4.0k
a/n: this is kinda funny for me bcs im blonde and my dad keeps making jokes in chinese about how im ltr a blonde bimbo now. anyway i combined these 2 reqs bcs im lazy forgive me anon/s
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
"y/n!"
you turn in the corridor, almost crashing into the burly man behind you who yells a "watch where you're going blondie!" before rushing off to a class he was probably late to.
you spot your friends who had called you, grinning and waving you over, "can't go one day on campus without running someone down can you?" a friend teases.
you pout, "i didn't walk into anyone yesterday!"
"no but you got stuck in the revolving door outside the chem building."
you whine at their teasing, you were a naturally clumsy person! sometimes you'd mix up salt and sugar, and sometimes you'd lose your car keys only to find them still in the ignition keyhole of your car from the last time you used it.
"so you coming to that party tonight? i heard some famous dj from the states is playing."
"awwh really?! i can't tonight i'm failing that dumb math class i have to take and i have a quiz tomorrow so i gotta study."
"you're failing everything y/n, what difference would one night make for you anyway?" a scoff from a student passing by, who you recognise as the infamous hirai momo from the back of her head and the evil way she sends a side-eye at you and your friend group in disgust.
"i wouldn't be if it weren't for your sad ass hirai!"
"stop looking at my ass and get your eyes on some books for once."
momo was meant to be your roommate in first year. although you had accidentally locked her out in the rain for 5 hours while you were hooking up with someone you can't remember the name of anymore. that was during orientation week, safe to say she was pissed and completely drenched when you finally let her in. she filed for a roommate change not long after, citing "poor etiquette and stupidity that could infect my genius", and being the university's most promising academic scholar, she pretty much got whatever she wanted. meaning she also got you assigned to the harshest tutors and markers as her own form of personal revenge, essentially making you fail most of your first year courses. which is why you were even taking this math class again.
the problem arose however, when you find out you would actually lose your scholarship if you failed another class. so failing was definitely not an option.
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
“you failed.”
“what!? but i studied all night! i even brought the right calculator model this time!”
“miss l/n, bringing the correct calculator doesn’t help you if you don’t know how to use it. and neither does studying all night if you haven’t been coming to class for most of the semester.”
you’re gaping at the professor in disbelief.
“i’m afraid you’ll lose your scholarship if you fail the upcoming final exam. take this as your final warning. good day miss l/n.”
the door is shut in your face while you're still left trying to process exactly what just happened, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.
a familiar scoff behind you brings you back though, "what is y/n l/n doing here outside the staff meeting room? what? about to blow one of your professors for marks or something?"
you spin, stepping into her space, faces inches away from each other, "you jealous or something hirai? i'll blow you too if you beg."
you revel in the way her cheeks immediately flush, a slightly shaky finger pushing up the glasses on her nose as she looks away, "jokes on you l/n. i don't have a dick dimwit."
"you don't need one for me to make you feel good."
she's sputtering, moving around you quickly to escape, knocking on the staff door. you smirk, reveling in the slight win over her but immediately forgetting the feeling of triumph when you realise you're still fucked for your final in 2 weeks.
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
"y/n, you know i love you, but i cannot explain this again in any other way."
you groan, hands coming up to pull at your hair.
"but you got like a high affliction or something for this class last year! if you can't teach me i'm actually royally screwed, pleaseee?"
"it's high distinction sweetie. and just because someone's good at something doesn't mean they're a good teacher. sorry to break it to you but i couldn't teach my little cousins how to multiply fractions without wanting to commit homicide."
you wrinkle your nose, "gross dude they're literally related to you."
"no babes homicide means i wanted to kill them."
"oh... i guess that's better?"
"focus! c'mon you remember how to do the cross product right?"
"i don't get ittttttt!!!!!!! isn't that just multiplication? a times b equals ab!"
"this isn't algebra it's vectors. cross product isn't multiplication y/n."
you groan again, facepalming the desk in front of you.
your friend sighs, "sorry y/n i have to get going now. promised my boyfriend i'd go watch his game tonight."
"what?! you can't leave me here!"
your friend's already packing up their stuff though, "sorry! good luck with the studying though!"
you wail in goodbye, sitting up again and slapping your face a few times, trying to hype yourself up.
two minutes later, and you're still absolutely nowhere.
you decide to go out for a quick stroll rather than start a campfire in the middle of the library with all your papers. the evening breeze feels refreshing against your skin as you take in the sky. breathing in a deep sigh and closing your eyes briefly.
definitely the wrong idea when you crash headfirst into something that yelps a "what the fuck!" followed by the sound of smashing glass and a whine of pain.
your eyes are quick to open and you stare down at a bleeding hirai momo next to what looks to be a ruined 3D print of a final project or something.
"oh shit momo! are you okay?" you crouch down quickly, trying to collect the glass pieces that have broken, yelping when a piece digs into your skin.
"has all that bleach finally reached your brain y/n? who goes for broken glass with their bare hands?" she's frowning, rubbing her head a little and inspecting the cut across her arm.
"i-i'm sorry i-"
she sighs, "save it. i've had a long enough day as it is. being around you any longer is just gonna increase my chances of dying to some freak plane crash or something." she's standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants muttering to herself, "i'll have to call security to come clean this up."
you realise then that her eyes look a little puffier than usual, slightly tinged with red, the telltale signs of crying.
you suddenly feel terrible. whatever you had just broken seemed like an extremely intricate piece of work, and she was still bleeding down her arm but she didn't seem to pay it much mind, taking a phone out of her pocket and dialing security.
you step to the side and wait for her to finish talking on the phone. she doesn't realise you haven't left yet, swearing under her breath as she assess the damage once again.
when she turns and sees you again, she scowls, "what are you still doing here bimbo? don't you have a dick to ride or some jewelry to shine?"
you ignore her, blushing instead, "you're still bleeding."'
she looks surprised at that response, glancing at her arm again briefly and shrugging, "it's whatever. i'll clean it up later."
you wrap a hand around her wrist then, still not meeting her eyes, "let me? it'll be hard to bandage it properly with your left hand. and i kinda owe you for all of-" you gesture vaguely with your other hand at the ground, "this."
she's tugging her hand back quickly though, "don't bother. you'd probably make it worse. just go home y/n."
you sigh exasperatedly, "won't you just let me help! i feel bad okay? i can't just leave you here bleeding onto the concrete waiting for security to come clean this up."
she's surprised at your outburst, eyes locking onto yours and then nodding slightly. you don't let her rethink her decision as you drag her back inside the library, heading into the storeroom where you knew they had emergency first aid supplies.
you sit her down on the chair and rummage through the small kit for some alcohol wipes to clean the wound first.
she's eyeing you with a sort of caution, but is quick to clench her eyes shut and gasp at the first sting of disinfectant.
it's quiet for a bit while you work on cleaning her wound.
"where'd you learn first aid?" she speaks up first, eyes meting yours again.
"my little sister used to play around a lot with the rougher kids in the neighborhood. so she was always coming home with scratches and cuts and my mom was at work most of the time so i had to learn to take care of her myself."
momo hums, "guess that didn't really translate to taking care of yourself then huh? i mean with the way you're always tripping over air and stuff, you're more of a danger to yourself than a serial killer would be." there's no malice to her words this time, just lightly teasing you and you smile.
"i am sorry by the way. for breaking that. it looked like it'll be pretty hard to replicate."
"nah. i can just print another one tomorrow don't worry."
you both fall into silence again as you finish cleaning her wound, going to collect a few of the bandages to start wrapping around her arm.
you clear your throat a little awkwardly, "so... long day?"
she chuckles humorlessly in response, "something like that."
"wanna talk about it?"
she bristles then, and you're quick to correct yourself, "i mean you don't have to. just... making conversation."
it's quiet for a little longer and you're finishing wrapping her up, grabbing a small adhesive to stick it all together when she sighs. "sorry. just had a lot of pressure from back home lately. my parents keep wanting me to hurry up and graduate so i can go back to japan and take over the family companies. they called earlier saying how they're cutting off my funding for next year if i continue to drag out my studies."
"what? but you're only 23. don't you have like, things left you wanna do before you're all old and unable to move anymore?"
she giggles a little, its the first time you've heard that from her, "yeah tons actually. i've always wanted to see the northern lights and stay in one of those cute little igloos in finland, maybe go to antarctica and do some research there."
"okay! do that! what's stopping you?"
she smiles at you sadly, "my parents won't allow it. they'd disown me for not taking over their companies. and frankly, i'd be broke without them. i don't have the kind of money to keep living abroad like this if they were to stop supporting me."
you tilt your head a little in confusion, "can't you find a job?"
she's laughing then, a full, nose-scrunching laugh, "not with the classes i'm taking. i'd have to either take part-time study, which my parents would literally kill me for because it's 'embarassing' and would bring shame on our family name, or... never sleep again and take a night job or something."
you frown, sitting back on your heels.
"thanks for this by the way. you're still hurt though, do you want me to do you?"
"-and don't make a weird joke about that." she interrupts you before you can even open your mouth.
you pout, nodding a little as she laughs, and grabs the first aid box from you, gently placing your hand in her lap and cleaning your fingers.
you're caught by the way her eyebrows furrow a little in concentration, her teeth biting into her bottom lip slightly, and you can't help but think she looks cute.
you're brought quickly out of these alarming thoughts though, when she asks "how come you're in the library so late on a friday night anyway? never thought the day would come."
you groan, remembering the stack of math papers you have sitting on your desk, "i have to study for a math final coming next week. if i fail i lose my scholarship and i can't let my mom pay for any of this. she's already worked hard enough getting both my sister and me through school."
momo looks surprised at your admission, "oh. i'm sorry. i didn't know you were on scholarship."
you hum, "yeah most people don't assume it from looking at me." you tease a little, flipping your blonde hair over your shoulder and giving a little jingle of your bracelets.
"i'm not materialistic or anything but i enjoy having things that make me look nice y'know?"
she rolls her eyes, placing bandaids carefully onto your fingers.
"you don't need any of those things anyway."
you're caught again, unsure whether that was a compliment or some new way of torturing you.
she clears her throat, "all done."
you look at your hand, cutely littered with some winnie the pooh bandaids she must have found in the first aid kit.
you beam up at her, "thanks!"
she blushes a little and looks away from you, shyly rubbing the back of her neck, "hey look... i can help you study for that test next week if you want. don't want you losing your scholarship over something simple like that. plus i kinda helped go through all the first year math exams for some extra credit with the head of department."
you're shocked at first, and then jumping and squealing, bringing her up with you, "what?! you will?! oh my god thank you!!!!! holy shit oh my god i'm not gonna fail oh shit i'm-"
she's shooshing you in an instant though, a hand clamped over your mouth, eyes darting behind you, "y/n! we're still in a library!"
you grin when she lets you go, whispering loudly, "thank you!"
she's rolling her eyes and letting herself be dragged over to your table, praying that she didn't make the wrong decision deciding to help you.
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
momo's standing outside your lecture theatre, waiting for your class to end. you texted her saying you were getting your final results back today so she decided to pop by and make sure everything was okay.
once students start exiting the class she slips in, walking towards the professor who's packing up her stuff..
"momo! good to see you here. although i'm a little surprised. i wasn't expecting you."
"hey professor kwon. i'm just here to-"
momo's attacked from the back, you're squealing as you latch onto her excitedly, waving a test paper in front of her face, "i passed! momo look i passed! with a 62!!!!! that's higher than i've ever gotten!!!!!"
"miss l/n. i didn't know you knew momo." professor kwon is looking you up and down with a little distaste but you ignore it, squeezing momo even tighter in thanks.
"y/n- stop- wait lemme see that-" she snatches the paper out of your hand and scans it, eyes lighting up when she confirms you did in fact pass.
"congratulations! all that hard work really paid off."
you're blushing, "couldn't have done it without you hirai. c'mon, come out with my friends and i tonight to celebrate!"
"o-oh i don't know about that y/n... i've got-"
"study yeah yeah you always do. but you've gotta relax every now and then you know?"
"miss l/n is right momo. you're the most hardworking student here you should give yourself a break every now and then."
you're nodding fiercely, "right right! thanks professor kim!"
she looks at you with a glare, "kwon. its professor kwon miss l/n."
you're nodding, waving her off shaking momo, "c'mon pleaseeeeeeee? i'll pay for everything. as a thanks for helping me. and i can afford it now too since i won't be losing my scholarship which is also thanks to you so..!"
momo's still uncertain, hand at the back of her neck again, a nervous tick you've picked up on.
"oh professor i just remembered!" you're switching back to your professor, excitement and attention everywhere, "you were looking for outstanding students to tutor next semester right? how about momo? she's the only reason i passed this final and trust me when i say i'm a pretty difficult student to teach."
"oh?" the professor looks towards momo who's eyes have widened, "i had actually planned on asking you regardless but seeing as you were very successful with miss l/n it's just even more proof that you'd be a great teacher. what do you say momo? it's paid decently and great on your academic and work transcripts as well..."
you're looking between your professor and momo with full eyes.
momo looks like she's about to reject the offer, you knew it was because her parents expected her to be back in japan next year but you stop her before she's able to say anything.
"momo! this is great! this is exactly what you need! a job while you're still at uni so you can study at any time but still get paid for it!"
"y/n..."
"it's okay momo. think about it and let me know if you're interested and you've got the job 100%. i've got to get going to my next class now but goodbye girls, congratulations miss l/n but i hope i won't be seeing you in my class next year."
"oh definitely not professor kim!" you wave enthusiastically, giggling at the way the professor sighs in defeat.
you look back at momo who still looks a little stunned.
"well? what do you think?" you ask her excitedly.
"i- i don't know... there's a lot to think about..."
you tilt your head to the side a little in confusion, a gesture momo was beginning to grow fond of.
"i can't just abandon my family y/n. it's a decision that will take me some time to go over." she smiles at you gently, you can't believe this was the same girl who used to call you mean words and intentionally pray on your downfall.
"mm okay. i don't really get it but as long as you're happy in the end it doesn't matter. now c'mon! you coming tonight or not?"
she sighs fondly, "yeah yeah just this once. and we better be home by 12!"
you're pulling her along again scoffing, "riiiiiiiiight 12pm maybe."
"y/n!"
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
momo was most definitely out of her comfort zone. she mostly stuck to the bar, avoiding eye contact with people who tried to approach her. she quickly ordered another drink, hoping the alcohol could at least ease her nerves.
you were most definitely in your zone. you adored being able to dress up and let loose, especially when everyone else is so drunk you’re no longer the only person falling over themselves. you could laugh a little and have fun as well.
you could feel momo’s eyes on you and you ached to drag her out onto the dance floor and join you but she was adamant on staying by the bar when you had tried.
you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or maybe you were just attracted to her now after you’ve spent a whole week studying with her pretty much every minute of every day. but she looked good. you licked your lips as your eyes trailed down the slant of her jawline, her neck and clavicles outlined in the halter top she was sporting. your eyes politely moved past her chest but darted straight down to the abs that she apparently had hidden from the entire student body. how did she even have time to have abs when she always had her nose in a book or was in a lab conducting experiments?
you snap out of it when you realise said abs were moving closer to you for some reason, and suddenly she's all in your space, shoving someone behind you that you hadn't even realised was there in your momo-induced daze.
you turn to see a man with half his shirt unbuttoned and a look of surprise on his face. "the fuck dude?"
momo says nothing, reaching for your drink instead, sticking a finger in and swirling it around for 2 seconds before bringing it to her lips.
that was hot.
"rohypnol."
"what? what the fuck are you on about?" the guy is annoyed, drawing the attention of bystanders as they create a small circle around the three of you, you spot your friends in the crowd looking at you in confusion silently asking what's going on?
you can only shake your head, attention moving back to momo who's standing up straight, almost chest to chest with the guy now.
"rohypnol. a drug belonging to the benzodiazepine class of drugs that inhibits the central nervous system causing the user to experience extreme drowsiness and even blackout in some cases. it can also cause the user memory loss and brings the user to a higher state of intoxication in a rapid amount of time. it's street name is roofies."
the man is sputtering now, "w-what? what is this bullshit? what are you tryna say huh?"
"that you tried to roofie my friend here. do you want me to call the police? have them check this drink for traces of the drug?"
"what!? the fuck?!"
momo sighs, her eyes closing for a second, "is your vocabulary only limited to what? and the fuck? it's getting tiring talking to you."
he's gaping like a fish, the people surrounding you have called security over and they're tying his hands behind his back and he's left squirming against them, yelling more curses as momo stands stoically, watching him get taken away.
she sighs when he's out of sight and turns to you with a smile, "you should be more careful. you could've been hurt tonight."
you can't even think straight and the music is being turned back up, and momo looks so good, you can't help the way you're pulling her in by the waist and planting your lips on hers.
she makes a sound of surprise and is shocked for a second, but closes her eyes and returns the kiss, maneuvering you a little so she can place the spiked drink on a nearby table before her hand returns to you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other on your shoulder.
you're a little desperate when you claw at her abs that are now within touching distance, and she giggles into the kiss. you mutter a small shut up, reattaching your lips, feeling all the adrenaline of the night pumping through you as you mould yourself against her.
"god is it weird that- that kinda turned me on a little?" you're speaking between breaths, her lips swallowing up your words, not letting you catch a break.
she hums lightly against you, "which part?"
"the- when you were talking- about all those chemicals- and whatever-"
she breaks away from you then, an eyebrow arched and a hint of a smirk on her face, "you get off on me talking nerdy?"
you want to wipe that smirk off her face. "take me home and i'll show you what i get off on."
her eyes darken considerably, and she's tugging you towards the exit, grabbing the spiked drink and pouring it down the drain first to make sure no one drinks it. the little action of consideration even when you're both overwhelmed with lust just gets you more wet.
you send a quick text to your friends saying you had to leave early, and then you're in a cab, lips on each other's again, hands roaming and exploring every inch of available skin.
you suppose the one good thing out of that math exam was it bringing the two of you together at last.
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jointherebellion215 · 8 months ago
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Worth
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John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader
Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.
Word Count: 3.0k
Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff
A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)
Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!
A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.
“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.
You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone. 
You, of course, said yes.
Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.
“Good evening, Major!”
“Good evening, Major!”
You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.
“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”
“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.
“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.
“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.
“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”
“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.
You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.
“What? I was just trying to..!”
The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.
“Your friends seem nice.”
Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes. 
“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.” 
You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond. 
“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word. 
You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.
“You look beautiful.”
Another pause. “What?”
“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”
Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.
“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.
John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his. 
You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.
“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”
The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.
He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.
Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.
You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.
Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”
You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?” 
Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.” 
“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.
“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.
“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”
You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food. 
By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption. 
Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.
“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!” 
You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing. 
Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”
You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.
The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.
Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.
John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.
“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”
You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.
“No, no problem at all.”
Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”
You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind. 
“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”
You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.
“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”
You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap. 
“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”
The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.
“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”
The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.
“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”
Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.
Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.
As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,
“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”
You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.
“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”
You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.
“Sorry if I ruined the night.”
You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”
“Yep.”
“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”
“Oh, for sure.”
“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”
His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”
“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”
“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.
“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”
Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.
“My lady.”
You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves. 
He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends. 
The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.
“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.” 
You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly. 
“Really?”
You continue to sway.
“Yeah.”
You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”
He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.
“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.” 
The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.
“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”
You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.
He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.
“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”
He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you. 
“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”
You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.
“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.” 
He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.
So, you close your eyes and take the leap.
Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.
A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.
After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted. 
Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.
You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.
Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.
“You are most definitely worth it.”
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nervocat · 2 months ago
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“How I Loath You so.” (descriptions of blood and some violence(?) - wc: 1k, fluff?/romantic, vampire!gn!reader)
Rook was his name — and oh how you hated how it rolled off your tongue. This deplorable human that had stumbled upon your residency. You hated him down to your very soul.
But Rook? He was absolutely enchanted by you, infatuated even. He had only heard tales told from relatives and friends and from conversations he had overheard about vampires.
They had all said they were wicked creatures, only seen at night to sneak up on you, taking your blood and leaving you as an empty husk.
You had almost done exactly that to Rook, he had stepped foot on your grounds. It surprised him how you were able to best him in the surprise element, which only made you more intriguing.
It was a bit of a fight to actually have him pinned down, but you now had him in your grasp. Oddly enough though, he didn't fight back anymore once pinned. It's was almost like he wanted this, or at least didn't mind it.
“Who are you?” you inquire, voice unkind and face twisted in anger. The blond smiles. It was a tad off-putting with how it curved upwards, his eyes creasing.
“I am Rook Hunt,” he replies. “I must ask though — are you the vampire people talk about?”
That charming off-putting smile of his really ticked you off, your brows furrowing and your eyes burning further with hatred.
“So, Rook,” you wanted to throw up. “What in the world could you be doing here in my territory?” ignoring his question, you dig your nails into his shoulders some, keeping him pinned down to the grass. Though you were suddenly thrown off and now you were pinned to the ground, with Rook looming over you.
Eyes wide, you start to squirm under him — and how he enjoyed it so.
“Never let your guard down, mon cœur,” seething, you stopped your attempt to free yourself of this wretched man. Your nose scrunches at the nickname, lip curling up and displaying your fangs. It made Rook smile more, only serving to madden you further.
“Your fangs look as sharp and beautiful as ever, mon chérie d'amour.” he poked one of your fangs, making you hiss and nip at his hand, which he had quickly pulled away from you.
“Will you get off of me?!” you yell. You knew you could easily throw him off on your own without too much effort, but you wanted to see what he'd do.
Rooks smile didn't falter, he himself was also looking for what you'd do. He seems to be playing the waiting game, but so are you. He's just wasting his precious mortal time playing that game with you, for you had all the time in the world that he didn't.
“I would get off you, but I don't know what you'd do if I did. Would you simply kill me, take my blood from me, or mercifully let me go?” Rook seemed to have been thinking more, but didn't add anything else. He was smart — you'd give him that much. “I also quite enjoy what we're doing right now.”
You've had enough of his stalling, his stupid remarks. Using your strength, you throw him off of you and again, try to pin him. Rook was more ready this time though — swiftly dodging your attempt.
“The element of surprise! Something quite essential for a hunt, don't you think?”
“Oh for fucks sake, just shut up already, will you?!” You shout, reaching to grab for him, and he.. let you?? No matter, you were hungry, and with his neck exposed to you, how could you not bite into it?
Without a care for what happened to Rook, you haphazardly bit into him, fangs sinking into his fragile neck skin. Stumbling into a tree, you start to taste the blood of his on spilling your tongue. It was absolutely amazing, like nothing you've tasted before.
You weren't paying attention to Rook, too focused on feeding, not leaving any left to drip away, but he enjoyed this — maybe too much. Usually, people would be thrashing about and screaming for help (no one would hear them of course) and begging for mercy as they only made their wounds worse.
Rook instead held your head to his neck, not caring if these were his final moments. Dying in the arms of a gorgeous vampire? He's dreaming! Someone pinch him awake (preferably not, though).
The blood that managed to slip past your hungry lips, dripping down your chin, your closed eyes, messy hair with blades of grass and dirt in it. Would you let him clean your hair, he wonders? Make it all pretty, make you all pretty (though you already were beyond his wildest imagination).
He couldn't deny it hurt, though. You didn't take the care to see where you bit him, even though it probably would've benefitted you to do so, silly vampire.. Rook started to feel dizzy; was he dying?
Coming back to reality with a pained groan from Rook, you open your eyes to look at him. Sighing at his pitiful state, you lick his wound and the blood from your chin, teeth still bloody with the red liquid still smudged about on your face. He falls into your arms soon after — rather gracefully for someone who just had their blood drained — and you stumble a bit at the sudden weight.
“Ugh, what a bother. You're too good of a food source to just die though..” after thinking for a second, you groan loudly and begrudgingly take him to your home, just dragging him along behind you.
Getting home, you toss him on a couch and leave to get the blood off of your chin and get your hair clean again. You stop in the doorway though, and you glance over at Rook.
He was an interesting man. An annoying one, but he had his own odd charm of his.. his strange choice of hair style, his over-the-top speech, it was all him.
Maybe you could get used to having him in your life, and maybe you'll find yourself (unfortunately) falling for those stupid charms of his.
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[ † notes: THE FIC EVER!?? I'M SO PROUD OF THIS I LOVE IT SM. First post of my event too! Banger start the the event honestly. This was unbelievably fun to write. Embarrassed abt writing some of the scenes.... and maybe I could've done some things better but I'm rlly proud of the overall outcome :33 ]
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★ — © nervocat || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦
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sonicasura · 1 year ago
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I've been reading and going over Kaiju No 8 for awhile now. Kafka oozes pure disaster dad energy. The amount of times he accidentally parents his younger teammates and step in when need be is constant. Kafka clearly does a better job than a certain blonde teammate's father.
Anyway, why not really throw him through the dad shaped hole in the wall? I already got a few good examples. There's plenty of material from other media. I'll be adding some personal headcanons to Kafka's Kaiju behavior. Fully believe he wasn't unaffected mentally. Full headcanons here.
He has a feral side driven by primal maternal instincts. If the human half marks you as his kid(or whelp in kaiju term) then so will the other part. Feral side comes out under extreme distress like his whelps being in danger to a very powerful threat near them.
Kafka unconsciously exhibits animal behavior from his kaiju half. It ranges to purring, nuzzling, gentle headbutting, even grooming which includes licking. He's very embarrassed about that last bit cause he tries not to.
Also his Kaiju side is prone to adding changes without his consent. Extra appendages such as a tail, tendrils or even wings. This is merely so either mind can catch up and provide support like to his whelp. Kafka will struggle to will these away.
With that out of the way, let's get started.
Kirby
Yup. I'm really going there this time using Right Back At Ya cartoon for some inspiration. Kirby crashlands near Kafka's house a few years before the beginning of Kaiju No.8. The man across discovers the baby star warrior and is faced with an inner crisis.
It's clear Kirby is an alien but also a BABY. Kafka decides to keep the little pink puffball unaware of what said decision would bring. Like whenever he falls asleep, the man finds himself in Dreamland alongside Kirby. An unconscious effect from the Star Warrior that furthers strengthen into a small share of power aka being able to use Copy Abilities via Copy Essence.
Yup. I'm throwing Kafka through the ringer with the games first. He deserves a little heads up that his new kid is essentially a walking blackhole that can kill gods. Plus the boost is gonna be needed since Kafka won't have his Kaiju form until canon begins.
If you are wondering how he'll handle Kirby's appetite in his world, his job is cleaning up monster bodies. Thus any parts that will be trashed will go to the puffball instead. Yes, Kirby uses Cook Kirby to cook kaiju meat and share some with Kafka. A new business in the food entry might open up from it.
Finally we soon reach Kaiju No 8's events. Kirby is a stealthy little puffball who can find Kafka no matter where he is thanks to their bond. This connection being two way where emotions, location, current status and thoughts can be felt.
Kirby feels Kafka's distress from his kaiju transformation thus searches for him. Now the age range to join the Defense Force doesn't change here. Then how will Kafka keep his promise? Well it's quite a roundabout actually.
Kafka initially decided to help Reno get in while he tries to find a different legal way of getting into the forces. This way being an analyst from how quick he can pick out Kaiju weaknesses and strengths.
It was Reno's suggestion that led to this alongside being in the same division. Now Kafka trains his Kaiju abilities in both worlds. Finding training partners in Dreamland is easy but for his world it delves into vigilantism.
Kirby and him fight any kaiju that shows up on their radar if the Defense Force can't engage in time. The Star Warrior is listed as Kaiju No.8.5 by DF before you guys ask. It's mainly because he's never seen without 8.
How people view the duo is quite mixed. One part views them as heroes, one part is deciding/neutral and the last is a threat. A mix of emotions that even gotten to the Defense Force.
Engaging the two is very tricky and it's not just for potential backlash from the public. The Defense Force theorizes that No.8 treats No.8.5 as its whelp. Kaiju who follow their maternal instincts are much more dangerous than any other.
Thus everyone is in for quite a ride with this duo.
Rin Okumura
Next up we have the protagonist for Blue Exorcist and demon prince. I'll be doing a separated from birth scenario so Kafka shall be raising a more demon Rin. Earth and Assiah aren't in the same dimension either.
Now they don't officially meet until Rin is three. The cambion surviving on his own via animal blood, garbage or kaiju meat scraps. Kafka finds him when the toddler gets caught up in the aftermath of a Kaiju attack.
Like with Kirby, he's quite conflicted but decides to raise Rin. It starts off a little bumpy as the cambion much stronger than Kafka and his demon features are still present. Like the tiny horn nubs hidden underneath the fire, obvious tail, long ears, claws then finally fangs. Rin's flames only dissipate when he feels safe or content.
Can't forget his temperament either as Kafka been bitten a few times until the toddler truly trusts him. Once that does occur, anyone being mean to the man is met with Rin's wrath instead. Cambions are quite protective when it comes to their claims.
Kafka manages throughout it all as he plans how to become a Defense Force Member. His fellow Monster Sweepers know about Rin's condition and are fully protective of the kid. One reason why Kafka can keep attempting the test.
Rin is homeschooled and taught various things from controlling his fire to handling his anger than just basic education. The most important lesson is being reminded he is loved no matter what. The bond they both share grows stronger especially when Kaiju No.8's events officially starts.
Rin is present the moment Kafka turns into a kaiju. He also helps his father with this newfound power just like the man did for him. Reno is informed of Rin's inhuman status around the same time. Can I say brotherly relationship?
The father and son take out kaiju together but keep their identities hidden. No one has been able to identify Rin due to the young man always cloaking himself in blue fire. His obvious non-human visage marks him as Kaiju No.8.5.
The parent-whelp relationship between the two is quite clear to the Defense Force despite minimal confrontations. Analysts still try to clarify Rin's true form with no success from the intensity of the blue fire. Only thing they know is that he has a humanoid physique leading to speculations about both bearing a similar resemblance.
The cambion decides to join the Defense Force although as a potential trainee than full fledged member. Rin might be strong but he'll need to do some extra studies first. And an actual fighting style to use.
The path of the blade still follows Rin but he won't become an exorcist this time. Kafka will be there to help his son every step of the way. Whether they be human or not.
Link
Finally we got the bearer of the Hero's Spirit and eternal reincarnate, Link. I'll be going with BoTW/TotK iteration as I want to save OoT/MM for a different time. Linked Universe might have a part in this.
A camping trip gone wrong leads to late 20s Kafka to wake up outside the Shrine of Resurrection. He stumbles upon the newly awakened yet amnesiac Link. Feeling bad for the young man, Kafka helps the blonde on his journey. (Get home is a secondary goal.)
Throughout the adventure, Kafka helps Link more than just being a travel companion. He becomes an outlet for the Hero of Courage to express himself. A person to confess his sorrow, fears, and true feelings Link kept hidden from everyone else.
Unrelated note, Kafka is a magnet to fairy/divine creatures. Blupees follow him, the Great Fairies flirt, and the Sacred Dragons grant the man a gift should they cross paths. Kafka might've gotten a Blupee companion he named Konpeito.
Both however become separated upon the defeat of Calamity Ganon as Kafka returns to his world. (Konpeito comes with him.) One day, the older man begins to write letters to Link after receiving advice from a peculiar old woman. Letters that reach back and forth between the two worlds as they keep in contact.
Link and Kafka don't reunite until TotK begins. The latter has begun his first day as a kaiju. An accidental desperate wish from Link pulls the older man back to Hyrule. Both learn how to use their new powers as they journey to stop Ganondorf.
However Link's powers and Rauru's arms taken an unfortunate hold. The blonde slowly becoming a Zonai the more he uses his powers. Hero's Aspect is a conduit to make sure Link doesn't permanently lose his Hylian form. (I'll be designing the Zonai form later cause I don't like the Ancient Hero design. Also he's keeping Rauru's arm.)
Now this adventure comes with an incredible gift. A pair of Secret Stones that can allow travel between both worlds. Link decides to help Kafka join the Defense Force. Using his Zonai form, the Hylian hero helps the man fight kaiju in disguise.
Link is listed as Kaiju No.8.5 by the Defense Force since the two always fight together. Confrontation tends to be avoided especially when the Zonai got badly hurt amidst a kaiju battle. Kaiju No.8's fury and the immense damage to follow was proof enough.
Don't touch a whelp when the parent is around.
For Linked Universe(a fan LoZ comic series) shenanigans, it's a mix between being the Chain getting dumped there or Kafka and his son Tears get dragged in for temporary assistance. (TotK Link's nickname is Tears as BotW/Wild will be present). Entire reincarnation/curse business makes Kafka's head spin more than just the unknown enemy and portal mischief.
All these Links are technically his son so he is parenting all of them. Even Time(OoT/MM) whose probably a few years younger than him. Mostly everyone except for Wind(WW/PH) are befuddled or wary of the man who can become a mask monster. Nevermind the fact his world is ridden with giant beasts and kaiju attacks are normal.
Kafka is gonna have his hands cause everyone in the Chain reeks of various trauma. Trust issues, transformation based dysphoria, martyr behavior, and anything a Link adventure shall give. Plus his feral kaiju side is gonna rectify that whether everyone likes it or not.
"So what if you can turn into a wolf, Twilight(TP)? I think my scale covered mug would scare a lot more people." / "No one is gonna hurt you while I'm here, Hyrule(OG). They will be torn apart if they even dare try." / "Want some gum Wars(HW)? I heard it helps calm your nerves?"
Better watch out. This group of heroes got adopted by a himbo kaiju man and he won't hesitate to destroy anyone who dares harm them.
And that's it for now! Until next time folks, I'll see you later.
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bastardcoconuts · 3 months ago
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Father-Daughter bonding time! Via tarot cards!
In all honesty, it was rare that Sirius got a moment to spend with his beloved daughter, to show her the affection she deserved.
But, when the 6 year old Astrid knocked on his office door, cracking it open to peek inside and look around for him, asking if he could show her how to use tarot, he saw it as a bonding opportunity. Only a fool would push his child away when the rare chance to actually be in her life and give her a, possible, core memory to look back on fondly. [In response to this, Coco says ‘you are a fool. Fool.’]
And so that leads to this, father and daughter sitting across from one another in his study, the man shuffling the deck of old cards; ones Astrid had found while rummaging through old things in the Estolie estate attic; talking about how to use them.
“Tarot is very… fickle. How they respond to your inquiries and questions may very; they may be clear as day, or be murky and confusing. In my experience of using tarots, they tend to give you clearer answers if you have a stronger bond to them—” He was going to continue, but was cut off by the child.
“How do you get a strong bond with cards?” She asked, resting her chin on her knees, her small hands interlocked together keeping her legs from slipping, to the best of their little baby hand abilities. “Do they have like… A mind of their own or something?” She tried to imagine a deck of cards with its own consciousness. If you’re close enough to them, do they speak to you…???
Sirius sighed some, looking at the girl and shook his head, “No, but also in a sense yes.” He stopped his shuffling, pulling out a random card, looking at it before placing it down on the table. The star; upright. “You’ve heard your mother or someone say that ‘all things have a soul’, right?” The girl nodded. “Then even a simple deck of cards can have a soul. And they do in a sense have a mind of their own, at least a mind capable enough of giving you responses. Now to connect with a deck, you can do a few things. Cleanse it, being the first step no matter what. Cleanse of the previous owner's energy, and leave it blank to replace with your own.”
He pulled out another card, setting it slightly above the stars. Page of wands; upright. “You could either imagine your energy entering and surrounding the cards; or you could sleep with them under your pillow; or you could simply carry it around with you. All are good, but for you—” He glanced at the young brunette across from him. “I think keeping them under one of your pillows would be the best option.” He said with a slight chuckle. He was pretty sure the girl still wasn't the best at keeping track of things. Previously, it was known the young lady has a streak of losing things, very important things. Like her brooch. Now yeah I know what you might be saying, but forgive the child! She’s, what, 6 at the moment! Girlie doesn't want to wear some big purple stone!
Astrid pouted some at the tease, but sighed and nodded her head.
The man hummed, and continued, explaining how to deal with tarot and how to read readings, what a handful of cards ment, both upright and reversed. He also explained what kind of reading he was doing right now! An interview with the deck!!!!! Essentially asking the deck to tell about themselves, and such. Ya know.
Anyways, since Coco can’t come up with more yapping, she’s just going to say the rest of the cards in the order they came by. Wheel of fate; reversed. Ten of wands; upright. The devil; reversed. Ten of cups; upright.
The blond man looked at the cards for a moment, barely taking notice of his daughter who’d come around the table to see the cards better, though he clearly did a little, shifting his chair a little so the girl could see the cards better.
He hummed, in thought. “The first card is an upright star, meaning hope and faith. So it could mean that this deck is supposed to give, well, hope and faith. Then an upright page of wands; meaning excitement, exploration and freedom. It strong suits thus would be, giving you freedom. Likely. Wheel of Fate in reverse, no control or clinging to control. Despite it giving you some freedom, it might be saying that it’ll cling onto the bit of control it does have and do something like steer you in another direction. Upright ten of wands—” He hesitated for a moment, staring at the card before continuing, “Accomplishment and responsibility. It’ll teach you how to be adept, yet also carry a burden.” He gave a glance at his child, taking notice of how she didn’t seem to notice that his voice had a tinge of sadness to it. “Reversed Devil, freedom and restoring control. To connect and collaborate with this deck, you must release yourself and be free. And lastly, Ten of cups, upright. Inner happiness and fulfillment shall be the end of your partnership with this deck.” He wrapped up his interpretation of the reading, leaning back in his seat.
He opened his mouth to offer to cleanse it for her of his own energy, but she had already started scoping up the cards that were drawn, shoving them back into the deck, and placing it in the velvet bag she had found them in. She gave her dad a smile, “Thanks for teaching me dad.” And then she was gone with the wind, off to somewhere else in the estate. Be it her room, the library, or the observatory that was on estate grounds.
He watched the girl run off, before releasing a sigh. He shook his head, a small smile on his face. It was rare for the man to smile, given how horrendously he struggled to emote, but Astrid [and his wife] always managed to get the man to crack even the slightest smile. It’s too bad Astrid never noticed.
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bakuhoes-dumbass · 4 years ago
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Aberration - Chapter 3
MHA!Various x Fem!Reader
Thriller/Horror/Drama
Criminal!AU
Words: 2.8k
A/N: Third chap, here we go! It’ll start picking up soon. I know there isn’t much ‘horror’ rn, but it will get there, I promise. Also, I’m sorry Tamaki’s part is a bit longer than Hawks. I just adore Tamaki so much and he deserves the world and lots of hugs and kithes.
Warnings: Yandere Themes, Mentions of murder, blood, felonies, bullying, swearing. More to come.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of MHA, just this story. In no way does this reflect the characters, writers or VAs of the show/manga. MINORS DNI.
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Aberration Masterlist
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"Good afternoon Mr. Keigo, my name is Y/N and I'll-" You look up from your notes to see a half naked man with blonde hair and bright red bird wings lounging on his bed. Your jaw drops and you hold your clipboard up in front of your suddenly heated face.
Keigo looks over to you with his brows raised. "Well well, looks like we've got ourselves a new baby bird. How…" The handsome man's lips turn up into a cocky smirk.
"...interesting."
You peek over your clipboard to see his cocky smirk and hide your eyes again. "Keigo, would you please put on a shirt?"
He chuckles and wiggles his eyebrows. "What, too embarrassed to look at me, baby bird? I'll tell you what. You tell me who you are, and if you're single, and I'll cover myself."
"My name is Y/N. I'm the newest scientist in this facility, here to observe you, hoping it helps to find a cure. And there is no need for you to know my relationship status."
"Ah, ah, ah. If you don't tell me, you'll have to do this interview while gazing at my gorgeous body." You hear the cockiness in his voice.
"I swear to fu- fine, yes I'm currently happily single. Now, please put your shirt on." You mumble under your breath, "this is so inappropriate."
After a minute of rustling, Keigo leans back onto his bed. "Okay, my single baby bird. I'm all covered up for you."
You lower your clipboard just below your eyes to make sure, seeing the smirking bird man lounging on his bed with a shirt on. You finally lower your clipboard all the way before giving a curt nod. Making your way to the desk chair, you smile at the man.
"Thank you, Keigo. As I said before, my name is Y/N and I'm here to get to know you."
He snickers, "well, I'm here to answer any questions you have for me, baby bird. Fire away."
You sigh and open your notebook. "Must you call me such a name?"
"Awe, do you not like when I call you that?"
Sighing once more, you decide to just move on. You know you'll end up going in circles. "Please state your full name, age and date of birth for me."
"My name is Keigo Takami. I'm 28 years old. My birthday is December 28th." He paused to let you write that down before opening his mouth again. "Did you need my star sign and my relationship status? Well, I'm a Capricorn and I am definitely sin-"
"Nope, that's enough." You cut him off before he could ramble on even more. "Now, can you tell me what your quirk is exactly?"
Keigo blinks before turning around, the chains on his ankles clanking against the bed frame. Your eyes light up being able to actually see the giant, beautiful red bird wings coming from his back. You frowned slightly noticing they were pinned down, preventing him from being able to use them.
"Does that hurt? Having them pinned like that?" You tilt your head eyes following the edges of each feather.
Keigo lets out a quiet chuckle, eyeing you from over his shoulder. "A little. But nothing I can't handle. Why, is my baby bird worried about little ole me?"
Your frown turns into a glare and you clear your throat. "So, what exactly can you do with these wings of yours?"
Keigo's mouth twitches into a smirk as he turns back around to face you. "Well, I can fly. And I can also disconnect each feather from my wings and use them individually."
You nod, not wanting to show how impressed you were, knowing he'd make a crack at it. You finish writing down that information before asking your next question. "Now, can you tell me why you are here?"
"Getting down to the nitty-gritty, I see. Well, I was arrested and charged with Drug Trafficking, Forgery and Assault." You look at him, motioning him to continue. He shrugs. "There isn't much else to it. I'm a mafia leader. This shit happens on a daily basis, for years. Just so happened that I eventually got caught, on account of a leak in my group. Fortunately, for me, I use other people to do the killing for me. So that means they couldn't get me with murder." He cocks his head. "Unfortunately, though, trafficking and forgery are also felonies, so. That's why I'm here."
"So you spent your life moving copious amounts of drugs, forging money and assaulting clients who did you wrong?"
Keigo thinks about your words for a moment and nods. "Essentially, yes."
"Alright then." You stand up and bow your head to the mafia leader who was watching you carefully. "I will take my leave, as I have one more inmate to see before the end of my shift." You head towards the door, but pause for a moment. "Oh, and Keigo?" You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. "Your wings are beautiful."
Keigo's eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly, watching you walk out that door. His face turns bright red after processing your words. He mutters under his breath, "oh, baby bird…"
After shutting the door behind you, you breathe out. Aizawa looks up from his phone. "How'd it go?"
You raise a brow, "what, you weren't watching me through the security cameras like before?"
"Oh, I was," he deadpanned. "But, visually, it didn't look as compromising as the last two visits. The cameras don't pick up audio."
"Well, besides the lack of clothing in the beginning and the incessant flirting, I was pleasantly surprised."
Aizawa looked at his watch. "Now, I think we have time for one more before we have to turn in paperwork and unchain the more dangerous inmates from their beds to give them some room to stretch out." Aizawa flips through the profiles before stopping on one. "How about Amajiki?"
You turn to his profile and scan the words in front of you. "A cannibal, huh. Well that's not something you see every day."
"I think he'd be good to end the day with. Despite him being, well, a cannibal, he's actually extremely reserved and quite timid. I don't think he'd try to hurt you or get close to you. He suffers from borderline personality disorder, as you see." Aizawa looks up from his notes and eyes you. "However, he is a level 10. He may come across as innocent and somewhat angelic, but remember, he is one of the most dangerous criminals in this facility. He has multiple murders under his belt. So just keep that in mind."
You nod your head, slightly bouncing with excitement. This one sounds quite interesting to you. You've never met a cannibal before and this one has a quirk that sounds intriguing. Aizawa sighs before turning away from Hawk's door and heading further down the long hallway. He stops in front of a heavy door and scans you in.
Once you step inside the white room, you furrow your brows, not really noticing anyone. That's when you hear a small whimper and a few muffled, stuttered words coming from the floor next to the bed.
"W-Who are you?"
You lean to the side to see an indigo-haired figure huddled against the wall between the desk and the bed. You notice his body is trembling, only his eyes visible through his bangs, his arms covering the rest of his face. Head tilted, you squat down from a distance and smile.
"Hi there, Amajiki. My name is Y/N. I'm the newest scientist at this facility. I'm here to talk to you and get to know you to help further our findings for a cure. I'd like to be friends, if that's possible." You reply gently. You can tell he's scared out of his mind.
He raises his head up, giving you a full view of his…
Muzzle?
"F-friends?"
Your eyes widen slightly. The bottom half of Amajiki's face, from his nose to under his chin, is completely covered by a silver muzzle. It's strapped around his head and locked in place by a padlock. Your eyes travel down to see his wrists chained together with quirk cancelling cuffs and, as you expected, both of his ankles are chained to the heavy duty bed frame.
"They have you muzzled like that?" You stare in disbelief, slightly angered at the treatment. You understand that he's a known cannibal, but to strap that heavy muzzle around his head on top of chains already weighing him down.
Amajiki nods shyly, "y-yeah. I guess it's because of the whole e-eating people… thing."
You sit yourself down on the floor across from him, your notes in your lap. "Is it uncomfortable?" He nods slowly, his eyes avoiding yours. You give him a small smile. "I'm sorry."
His eyes shoot to yours, confusion flashing through them. "Why are you sorry?"
"It...seems like a lot of you are possibly being mistreated here. I've noticed a few things here and there."
Amajiki's brows furrow. "And why should you care? W-We're criminals."
"True. However, this facility isn't supposed to be judge, jury and executioner. You're entitled to a fair trial, just like everyone else. That includes not being mistreated." Your smile never leaves your face as you look the man in the eyes. "I am not only here to research a cure, but make sure in doing so, it won't harm any of you. It'll be humane, I promise." Amajiki just stares at you with an unreadable expression. You sigh and click your pen. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions, Amajiki?" He shakes his head but stays quiet.
"Can you please state your full name, age and date of birth?"
"U-um. Tamaki Amajiki, 25, March 4th."
"Thank you. And what is your quirk?"
Amajiki hugs his knees tighter. "I-It's called Manifestation. Essentially, whatever I eat and digest, I can manifest as a body part."
Your leg bounces in excitement. "So, if you were to eat, let's say, Takoyaki, you can turn your hand into tentacles?" He nods his head. Your eyes light up. "That is incredible, Amajiki. That's such a powerful quirk!"
Amajiki's eyes widened, a blush spreading across his cheeks that were partially hidden under his muzzle. This is the first time he's ever been thankful to have this thing attached to his face. "U-um, t-thanks."
You let out a soft giggle and continue writing in your notes. "Here's a little bit more of a difficult question, Amajiki. Can you please tell me why you are incarcerated in this facility?"
Amajiki stays quiet, not looking at you. You notice his hesitation. You think for a moment before looking around the room. Amajiki sneaks a glance at you, watching you look around the room. His brows furrow. "W-What are you…"
You finally spot the locations of the camera and move your body so your back was facing it. Ignoring his question, you place your pen down directly in front of you so only Amajiki can see. You furrow your brows in concentration and stick your tongue out as you hover your hand over your pen. To Amajiki's utter shock, the pen starts floating in the air.
"Y-You have a quirk?!"
You nod your head and release the pen from your power. "Yeah, I do. It's nothing fancy like yours, but it is a mutation, nonetheless. Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone who understands more of your situation than you might think. So that's why I wanted to show you." You smile at the man, who is looking at you with pure adoration. "Please, keep this to yourself. I don't know what Aizawa would do if he found out about it." 
"I-I won't tell anyone, I promise."
You giggle and sit back down in your original spot. "Thank you. Now, can you please tell me why you're in this facility?"
He nods his head, still slightly dazed about this new-found information. "I was charged with multiple counts of 1st degree murder a-and…" his voice drops to a whisper, "s-serial cannibalism."
You couldn't help your interest in the subject and started rambling. "Would you be so kind as to explain how this came about? Did you grow up into a family of cannibals or-"
"NO!" He lashes out, causing you to flinch slightly. He winces as your reaction, not intending to scare you. "N-no. Nothing like that. It happened… against my will, so to say?" Amajiki sighs and rests his chin on his arms, not meeting your eyes. "I was one of the only kids in my small town to have been born with a mutation. My parents tried to hide it, tried to hide me. I don't know if it was from fear of people hurting me or fear of everyone judging them for having me."
He blinks a few times before continuing. "The town I lived in was small, a bad side to say the least. Lots of low-lifes and gangs running around. Well, long story short, someone found out about me and what my quirk was. They kidnapped me and…" He trails off. Suddenly, his eyes snapped to yours, an uncomfortable and intense feeling overwhelming you. "They forced me to eat another person, someone with a quirk. They wanted to see if I could turn their power into my own."
He cocks his head and lets out a cackle, still making eye contact with you. "Can you believe that?! It actually worked! So what did they do? They forced me to eat ANOTHER quirk user. They wanted to turn me into an ultimate weapon." Amajiki lets out a strange noise, sounding like a mixture between a guttural sob and a laugh. "Well, the joke was on them in the end. I ended up killing and eating them in the end and escaping. But after that point, something mutated further in my quirk. I couldn't stop craving human flesh." He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. "A-And that's why I'm here now."
Your eyes are wide and your breath is heavy. Something inside you feels a sense of panic, looking at the clearly broken man in front of you. It's so much information to take in, you stay quiet for awhile, your body on high alert. Amajiki notices how quiet you are and he opens his eyes. He notices a terrified look on your face and internally panics.
"W-Wait, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I-I'm not going to hurt you." He finally moves out from his huddled form and kneels instead, the sound of chains clinking together snapping you out of it. "I-I would n-never hurt you." He whispers the last part, hoping you wouldn't hear it.
You clear your throat after taking a few deep breaths. "T-Thank you for telling me this, Amajiki. It was really brave of you to relive those experiences." You look at him and notice the fear and concern in his face. Giving him a small smile, you close your notebook. "I'm fine, I promise." You stand up on shaky legs and bow your head. "I need to get going."
Amajiki quickly stands up, making you slightly flinch again, which doesn't go unnoticed by him. "Y-You're leaving already? Will I get to see you again?"
"You will. I'm an employee here now, so I'll be the one to check up on all the inmates and work on everyone's individual sessions." You turn your back and walk to the door. "I'll see you later, Amajiki."
The indigo-haired man watches you walk through his door, longing written across his face. The only thing running through his mind are thoughts of the pretty telekinesis that made his heart race.
Once out the door, Aizawa meets you in the hallway. "How'd it go with the man-eater?"
You scowl at the doctor. "Why do you say things like that? He has a name."
"He's a criminal, Y/N. They're all criminals. Shouldn't matter what we call them." He rolls his eyes. "Just come with me. We have to finish our paperwork before the end of the day."
You grumble under your breath but follow the tired-looking doctor to his office. "You also need to prepare yourself for tomorrow. You will be meeting Kaminari, Midoriya, Shinso, Bakugo, Todoroki, Dabi and Kai. And 5 out of the 7 are level 8 and above."
~~~
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bxcketbarnes · 3 years ago
Text
Place in Me
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 6700+
Author's Note: So, this fic is extremely long. I apologize in advance. I also hope you guys enjoy it. I'm worried that it's not up to par but we'll see I guess 🥺🥰 It's loosely based on the song Place in Me by Luke Hemmings. Beautiful song. Uhm, slight enemies to lovers which is unusual for me. Let me know what you though!! xox
"Barnes and L/N, you'll be partnering up," Tony states, and your eyes widen a bit before glancing towards the ex-assassin.
You notice Bucky rolling his eyes while crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair he's sitting in. "Is that the best plan, Tony? We've never worked together," he questions the man.
"That's the whole point, Manchurian Candidate," Tony mumbles while wagging his finger between the two of you. "You two are the only ones who haven't been on a mission together, so."
You stay quiet as the older man sets the debriefing folder in front of you. Your eyes meet his and you notice a certain emotion swimming in Tony's eyes. He raises his eyebrows slightly and you nod your head.
"You two look those over and then get to the quinjet. It leaves in an hour and your asses better be on it," Tony mentions while walking away from the two of you.
Silence fills the room and you avoid looking at Bucky. Your heart pounds in your chest as a sigh leaves the man's lips. You instinctively lift your gaze towards him, seeing his blue eyes already on you.
Your breath hitches in your throat and you look away, clearing your throat. "So, uh, s-sorry you have to work with me," you mumble loud enough for him to hear.
Bucky tsks before standing up from his chair. Your chest clenches when he doesn't say anything to you, watching the super-soldier walk out of the room. A heavy sigh leaves your lips, glancing down at the files in front of you.
"He'll come around," Steve's voice fills the room and you jump slightly, turning in your chair to see the blonde leaning against the doorframe.
You shake your head at his words, tears pooling in your eyes. "I don't think he will, Steve. H-He'll talk to everyone else except for me? I… I don't even know what I did for him to hate me so much," you sigh, your fingers catching the tears that roll down your cheeks.
Steve walks further into the room and lays a hand on your shoulder. You chew on your bottom lip, breathing heavily through your nose to calm yourself. "He's jus- He's got a funny way of showing people he cares. I doubt he hates you, Y/N," the blonde reassures you, giving you a gentle squeeze.
"Coulda fooled me," you mumble before shrugging his hand off of you, standing up from your seat. "I have to go get ready."
You hold the files to your chest and walk out of the debriefing room, making your way to your quarters. Your lip trembles a bit as you continue to think about Bucky and his cold behavior towards you.
Once you're in the elevator, you let out a shaky breath before glancing at the ceiling. Tears continuously glide down your reddened cheeks and you try to shake the memories from your head.
"Let's just get this over with," you sigh to yourself as the doors open up. You pack all the essentials you'll need for the mission,  double-checking that you've got everything before making your way to the quinjet.
You notice Tony standing at the end of the ramp as Bucky walks into the jet, a bag hanging off of his shoulder. "If you truly need to get away from Barnes, let me know okay?" Tony mumbles and you give him a tight-lipped smile, nodding your head in response.
"I should be okay, Tony. Thank you though," you whisper to him before walking onto the ramp of the quinjet.
"You guys got this. I believe in you," Tony reassures the two of you and the ramp proceeds to shut.
You sit as far away from Bucky as you can, fiddling with your fingers for a few minutes before pulling out your headphones. You rest your head against the headrest and decide to rest your eyes.
Bucky looks over at you and wishes that you weren't coming along. In his mind, this mission is way too dangerous for you. You're not a super soldier like him or Steve. You don't have a suit of armor like Tony or Rhodes. You don't have powers like Wanda.
You got your training from Natasha, and sure, Natasha has incredible skills that she learned from the Red Room. But, you're still human. A sigh leaves his lips and tears his gaze from you, deciding to make sure you don't get hurt at all.
-
"Holy shit," you mumble in amazement, looking around the hotel suite that Tony booked for the two of you.
Bucky walks in behind you, not saying anything as he brushes past you. You bite your cheek, your eyes following his figure as the super-soldier makes his way towards the bedroom.
You let out a slight huff of breath, running a hand through your hair. "I thought Tony mentioned there being two beds?" Bucky asks and your eyebrows furrow.
"That's what he said," you mumble while heading towards where he is. "Is there only on-"
"One bed? Yeah," Bucky cuts you off and you gulp, taking a peek into the bedroom to see one bed in the middle of it.
"I-Great," you whisper as the brunette lets out a heavy sigh. "Sorry, Bucky, I didn't-"
Bucky grunts before making his way towards the living area. "I'll take the couch," he states and you slowly close your mouth, the words dying on your lips.
"O-Okay," you whisper loud enough for him to hear, walking into the room you'll be staying in.
You press your lips together before shutting the door, putting some space between you and Bucky. I should've backed out immediately. You think to yourself while setting your bag onto the edge of the bed.
After unpacking your bag, you organize your things so they're easily accessible. You open the file Tony gave you, looking over the schedule of your target. "Aha!" You softly whisper, pointing at the paper while reading how your target generally goes to the restaurant right about now. "I could eat."
You open the bedroom door and step out of the room, looking around for your six-foot-tall co-worker. You furrow your brows at the space, wondering if he's still here or actually left. He'd tell me if he left… right?
Bucky,
I left to go get some food and a little intel on our target. Schedule says he's in the restaurant around this time. See you later.
Y/N
You place the written note near his things so he'll see it before grabbing one of the hotel room keys. You exit the room and make your way to the elevator before pushing the button. The doors open immediately and you step inside, pushing the button to the lobby.
"Hold the door!" A voice shouts and you stick your hand out, stopping the door from closing. "Oh, thank you so much."
"You're welc-" you cut yourself off as you look up at the man, your heart dropping into your stomach.
The man standing in front of you is Gabriel Price, the target you're currently after. The doors to the elevator close once more as the air around you grows thick. "You okay?" He asks and you snap your head up, your eyes meeting his cold ones.
"Y-Yes, sorry. I was… I was stunned by your beauty," you laugh nervously and the man smirks while fixing his tie.
A chuckle leaves Gabriel's lips and he looks down at you. "Well, thank you, darling. You're a sight for sore eyes, yourself," he winks and you bite your lip.
"I-Thank you, sir," you blush, wishing that the elevator would open right about now.
"Please, call me Gabriel," he corrects you before sticking his hand out.
Your eyes glance from his face to his hand before shaking it. "Nice to meet you, Gabriel. I'm Sylvie," you come up with a fake name.
The doors to the elevator open up and you drop his hand before leaving the small space. "I hope to see you around, Sylvie," he grins before walking into the restaurant.
You can feel your hands shake a bit and you let out a deep breath before fishing your phone out of your pocket. You dial Bucky's number, pressing the device to your ear.
"Pick up, please," you beg, your eyes looking around the place to see if the super-soldier is nearby.
When your call goes to voice-mail, you roll your eyes, not even deciding to leave him a message. You slide your phone into your pocket before heading into the restaurant. You notice Gabriel sitting with three other guys at a table near the corner as you walk over to the bar area.
"Hey, can I get some food to go?" You ask the bartender and the woman nods her head before grabbing her pen.
"Of course, sweetie. What can I get ya?" She asks with a smile.
Your eyes roam over the menu and decide to get something small for you and Bucky. "Uhm, can I get the fish and chips and a bacon cheeseburger with fries," you tell her and you watch the woman write it down.
"Absolutely. Do you want to bill that to your room?" She questions and you nod your head in reply, telling her the room you're in. "I'll put it in for you. Should be ready in about fifteen minutes."
"Perfect thank you so much," you smile as she turns to head towards the kitchen.
-
After stealthily watching Gabriel while waiting for your food, you finally make it back to your room. You balance the to-go boxes against one hand while grabbing the room key with the other, unlocking your door.
"Bucky?" You call out after shutting the door with your foot, taking a glance around the room in front of you.
"Yeah?" He mumbles and pokes his head around the corner of the wall, noticing the styrofoam boxes in your hands. "What's that?"
You furrow your brows and quickly wet your lips. "Did you not get my note?" You wonder and Bucky shakes his head. A sigh leaves your lips and you mutter to yourself, "figures."
Bucky picks the note you wrote from the table in front of him as you set the food onto the counter in the kitchenette. "Wait, was he there? The target?" The super soldier asks while walking towards you.
"Yup," you mention and hand the man his food, not meeting his gaze. "Actually met him in the elevator, but you would've known that if you answered your phone."
You brush past him, your shoulder bumping into his as you head towards your room. You stop just before entering the space before turning to face him, feeling the anger flow through your veins. "You know… next time you should just ask for a new partner if you don't want to work with me. No need to be a fucking coward and ignore me. That's how people get hurt, Bucky."
His blue eyes glance towards you just as you slam the bedroom door shut, leaving Bucky to his own devices. The brunette opens the take-out container, seeing a cheeseburger and fries sitting in it.
Bucky's phone rings loudly, snapping him from his thoughts and he pushes himself off of the counter before grabbing the phone.
"Hey, Steve," he answers after checking who it is, pressing the device to his ear.
"Buck," the blonde greets, and Bucky can hear Sam yelling in the background. "How’re things going?"
A sigh leaves Bucky's lips and he scratches the back of his neck. "Uhm, alright, I guess. It's been pretty tense between Y/N and I," he informs his best friend while eating a couple of fries.
"Well, have you tried having a conversation with her?" Steve asks and Bucky furrows his brows.
"I- No?"
"You know, after you left her alone in the debriefing room I stopped by," Steve starts as Bucky sits down on one of the chairs, continuing to eat his food, "and she told me that she's got no clue as to why you hate her so much. So, Buck, what's the reason?"
The super soldier feels his stomach twist a bit, not knowing that's how you felt about his coldness towards you. "I… I'm not sure, Steve. I just- she- I don't know how to explain it," Bucky mumbles and runs his fingers through his hair.
"Figure it out then. You two need to be working together. The hostility between the two of you is going to get one of you hurt… or even killed," Steve reprimands the super soldier and Bucky finds himself nodding in response. "I have to go. Talk to you later."
Bucky sets his phone down on the table before glancing towards your bedroom door. He lets out a deep breath through his nose and continues to eat the food you got him.
You sit against the headboard with your knees tucked a bit, staring off into space. You look towards the alarm clock to see it's just past midnight and you press your lips together before leaning your chin on your knees. Your food grows cold as it sits on the nightstand, your appetite is forgotten after your altercation with Bucky.
Tears pool in your eyes as you run your fingers through your hair. "Why? Why? God, why?!" You cry to yourself and before you know it you chuck your phone across the room.
You hear the device smash as it collides with the wall and you see the screen all cracked. A sigh leaves your lips as you watch the lit-up screen turn black before cursing to yourself.
Bucky quickly sits up at the thumping sound echoing off of the walls, his blue eyes looking around the dark space. His eyebrows furrow as everything is in place and the super-soldier gets up from his spot on the couch.
A frown etched onto his lips when he walks closer to the bedroom door, hearing your cries coming from inside it. Bucky wets his lip and feels his chest clench a bit before he raises his fist to knock on your door.
"Fucking hell," he heard you mutter through the door and Bucky lowers his hand, deciding it’s best to leave you be so he doesn't make it worse.
He swallows the lump forming in his throat before making his way back towards the couch. Bucky lays down under the covers and stares up at the ceiling, a deep sigh escaping his lips.
"Steve's right," he whispers to himself, "I have to fix this."
-
You put your hood up as you follow Gabriel's men down the busy street. You stay a good distance behind them as you can lightly hear their conversation.
Apologies leave your lips as you're weaving through the sea of people, bumping into some of their shoulders as you pass by them. You wince when a burly man bumps into you, your eyes gazing up at the man while pressing your hand to your side.
"Sorry, miss," he smirks and you furrow your brows, mumbling that it's alright.
You stumble around the corner as the pain in your side spreads, removing your hand from the wound to see blood staining your skin. "Shit," you mumble and glance back to see if you can find the man that bumped into you.
Suddenly, your mouth gets covered by someone and you let out a scream as they drag you into the ally beside you. They throw you on the ground before another starts to kick your stomach.
"Don't fuck with us," a man growls and grabs a fist full of your hair, lifting you before shoving you against the brick wall.
Heavy pants leave your lips as the man's fist connects with your face. Pain fills your body as you double over, a couple of gaps leaving your lips.
"P-Please," you beg as another man takes a swing at you, blood dripping from your lips.
Your head gets pushed back against the wall as the older gentleman leans close to you. "Should've thought about that before following us, sweetheart," he snickers before gripping your cheeks. "I'm sure someone will find you."
You don't get a chance to say anything before the man smashes your head against the building. Your eyes roll back into your head as you get punched once more. The man lets go of your body and you drop to the ground as you become unconscious from the beating.
"We'll find her later, let's go."
Bucky knocks on your door in the hotel room, eyebrows furrowed as he hasn't heard from you all day. "Y/N?" He calls out your name before opening the door, peeking his head into the room. He walks into the room and sees the place empty. "Shit."
He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials your number. Bucky presses the device to his ear before walking back out into the main room. C'mon, c'mon. He thinks to himself while pacing in front of the couch.
A sigh leaves his lips when the call goes to voice-mail, his vibranium hand rubbing through his hair. The next number he dials is Steve's, deciding to tell the blonde what happened.
"Hey, Buck, what's going on?" Steve answers the phone.
"Y/N's missing," Bucky states, feeling his body start to panic at the thought of what could've happened. "I-She was here in the middle of the night and she hasn't left her room all day, so when I went to go check, the room was empty."
The brunette sits down on the edge of the couch, leaning his elbow on his knees. "Okay calm down. Did you try calling her?" Steve asks and Bucky scoffs.
"Of course I tried calling her, Steve. I'm not a complete idiot," Bucky mumbles.
"Goddamnit, Bucky. None of us can head out there right now. So, you need to get out there and find her," Steve informs him and Bucky nods his head in response, standing up from the couch.
Bucky goes to speak when the door to the room opens and you stumble inside. "She's here. I-I gotta go," the super-soldier breathes, hanging up before Steve could say anything.
You wince while shutting the door, leaning on it for stability. "Bucky," you whimper as he rushes over to you. You fall into his arms, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.
"Hey, hey, what happened?" He mumbles softly while leaning down to pick you up bridal style.
Bucky gently kicks the bedroom door open before walking into the room, setting you down onto the bed. His eyes roam across your body, seeing the bruises and cuts on your face. The brunette notices dried blood on your hand and his brows furrowed in confusion.
"Fuck," Bucky whispers after seeing blood on your shirt. He picks up your shirt to see a wound in your side, his fingers grazing over your skin.
He walks into the living space, grabbing everything he'll need to patch up your wound. Bucky feels his phone vibrating in his pocket as he wipes the alcoholic pad across your skin.
"Hey, Steve," the super-soldier answers his phone, putting it on speaker before setting it on the table beside him.
"She okay?" He asks immediately and Bucky swallows thickly.
"Uhm, not exactly. She looks like she got the shit beat out of her, and she got stabbed," he informs the blonde.
Bucky runs a hand over his face after patching up your stab wound, turning his attention to your face. "Shit, Bucky. Okay, I'll let Tony know and tell you what he says," Steve mumbles and Bucky nods his head in response.
The phone hangs up and Bucky shuffles towards your upper body, grabbing another alcohol wipe. "God, I'm so sorry, Y/N," he sighs while wiping the dried blood off of your face. "I'm gonna need you to pull through this, alright. I need you."
Bucky throws the bloodied wipes away before gently stroking your cheek. He pushes himself off of the floor and grabs a glass of water and some painkillers, setting them on the table beside your bed.
His fingers glide across your forehead, pushing some of your hair out of your face. "Please come back to me."
-
A groan leaves your lips as your eyes flutter open. Your vision clears and you see Bucky sleeping beside your bed, his arms crossed over his chest. A small smile comes to your lips as you attempt to sit up a bit, wincing slightly.
Bucky jumps awake at the sound of you, his blue eyes meeting yours. "Y/N, hey," he whispers, pulling the chair closer to you. "How do you feel?"
"Like I've been hit with a truck," you chuckle while holding your side.
"Here," he mumbles and moves to grab the pills and water beside you, "take these." You mumble a quiet thank you before taking the medicine from him.
You notice his nervous behavior as Bucky sits back down in his chair. "Bucky, I'm fine," you tell him after swallowing the liquid, setting the glass down. "Nothing I haven't handled before."
A sigh leaves the brunette's lips and Bucky runs his fingers through his hair. "It doesn't matter if you've handled it before, Y/N. You went out- on your own- to follow a dangerous man and you could've been killed!" He exclaims with a huff of breath.
"Well, if you were capable of working with me, Bucky, then I wouldn't have to do it alone! Don't you see that I'm trying?! I'm trying so hard to be civil with you, but you don't budge. Probably would've been better if I died. Then I wouldn't have to subject myself to your coldness every fucking day," you practically scream, your chest heaving rapidly.
Bucky's eyes soften at your words, his heart hurting a bit when you said you'd rather be dead than deal with him. "I'm sorry," he whispers loud enough for you to hear and your head turns to look at him.
"You're sorry? For treating me as an outsider for over a year?"
"I… Look, Y/N, I don't have a good reason for my behavior. I wish I did, I really do, but can we start over?" Bucky stutters and hesitantly grabs your hand.
Your heart flutters in your chest as his flesh hand grabs yours, seeing the sincerity in his blue eyes. "Can you stay with me?" You mumble, your fingers interlacing with his.
Bucky smiles softly and nods his head. You smile at him, feeling him squeeze your hand. The sound of your hotel room door opening catches Bucky's attention and the super-soldier suddenly gets up from his chair.
"Buc-"
He covers your mouth with his hand while bringing a finger to his lips, silently telling you to stay quiet. Your eyes widen as talking from the other room finally hits your ears.
"Stay there," Bucky mouths to you and you nod your head, your hands gripping the covers.
Bucky stealthily walks towards the bedroom door, pressing his ear to the wooden structure. "The tracking device says she's here," a man states and Bucky furrows his brows. Tracking device? "Check the bedroom."
Footsteps grow louder and Bucky quickly makes his way back towards you before lifting you off of the bed. Your arms wrap around his neck as the brunette quietly hides the two of you in the closet.
Your fingers stroke the back of his neck soothingly, keeping your gaze on his face the whole time. You notice his jaw clenching as Bucky focuses on the sounds around you.
"She's not here. She must've found it and left it behind," a different voice proclaims, another agreeing with the statement. "Let's go. We'll let Gabriel know."
You swallow thickly as Bucky's eyes meet yours. You can feel his breath fan your face, realizing the distance between the two of you is closer than you thought.
"Is it clear?" You whisper and Bucky gently sets you onto your feet.
"Hold on, let me check," he mumbles while his hands grip your waist, making sure you're steady before releasing you. "You good?"
You nod your head in response and Bucky's hands slip off of your waist before slowly walking out of the closet. You run a hand through your hair as you wait for the super soldier to come back.
"It's clear, c'mon," Bucky tells you and holds his hand out for you to take.
You wince a bit while walking out of the closet, grabbing ahold of Bucky's hand as he leads you back towards the bed. "Did he say something about a tracking device?" You ask him and Bucky nods his head in reply.
You lower yourself onto the bed and think about the event of yesterday. Bucky's eyes meet yours, watching your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Can you think of when they might've placed a tracker on you?" He asks while crouching in front of you, resting his hands against your thighs.
"I…" a short gasp leaves your lips as you remember a guy smirking at you after stabbing your side. "No way…"
"What?"
You pull your shirt over your head and Bucky's eyes widen before looking away. "My stab wound," you whisper.
Bucky snaps his attention to you as you take the bandage off of your side, exposing the wound. "Shit," he mumbles and lifts himself off of the floor. "If you can grab a towel and lay on it. We have to get it out."
You nod your head as he leaves the room. Another wince leaves your lips as you walk into the bathroom, grabbing a fluffy towel from below the sink. When you enter the bedroom again, Bucky stands at the edge of the bed sorting through the different utensils.
"This is gonna hurt," he informs you as you lay back on the bed, one of your hands gripping the sheets.
"It's okay," you whisper while nodding your head.
Bucky gives you a small smile before kneeling beside the bed. Your chest heaves rapidly as the super-soldier re-opens your wound. His blue eyes flit up to your face as you stare at the ceiling, trying to keep your mind distracted.
"I'm going to dig around to try and find the device, alright?" He reassures you and you nod your head, swallowing the lump in your throat.
Bucky's flesh hand rests on your stomach, feeling his thumb gently stroke your skin. Two of his vibranium fingers dip into your stab wound, a hiss leaving your lips at the uncomfortable feeling. "B-Bucky-"
"I'm sorry," he apologizes as the metal fingers move around. "It'll be over soon."
You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down harshly. A cry escapes your lips as Bucky's fingers travel deeper, tears pooling in your eyes. Sadness fills Bucky's eyes as you whither beneath his touch, wishing he could find the damn tracker faster.
Bucky's brows raise when his metal fingers graze against something cylindrical. "I got it, doll," the nickname slips out and your heart flutters in your chest, turning your head to face him.
His eyes are already on you, seeing the concerned look swimming in the baby blues. "Agh! Bucky-" you breathe out as the device scrapes along the inside of your skin.
"Sorry," he whispers and manages to pull the tracking device out without hurting you anymore, crushing the tiny object between his vibranium fingers.
You take deep breaths as the super-soldier quickly gets up so he can replace your bandage. You keep your gaze on Bucky the entire time as he tends to the wound. "You're pretty," you whisper, not being able to stop the words from leaving your lips.
Bucky looks up at you through his lashes as he releases a small laugh. Butterflies swarm around your stomach as the man leans forward to press a gentle kiss to the fresh bandage, your breath hitching in your throat.
"You're prettier. Let me get you some water," he mentions before leaving the room once more.
He thinks I'm pretty. You think to yourself as a smile comes to your lips, bringing your gaze back to the ceiling.
-
"Tony, you don't get it. They know someone's after them. I think we should hold off until they're less suspicious," you hear Bucky talking in the other room. A sigh leaves your lips, the argument continuing on as you inspect the bruises on your face in the en suite.
You wince at the tenderness, rubbing the arnica ointment around your left eye. "Look, Bucky, the best I can do is move you to a different room and extend the mission. We can pull out on this now. We're too close," Tony says before hanging up the phone.
"Fucking hell," Bucky mutters as you leave the bathroom. You walk into the living area to see Bucky throw his phone onto the table before plopping onto the couch. "He's not letting us leave."
"I heard," you sit beside him, tucking one of your legs under the other, "I mean he's right in a way. We're so close to capturing this guy. I should've been more careful, I'm sorry."
The blue-eyed man glances towards you, leaning against the furniture. "It's not your fault. You were just doing your job. It's my fault that I made you believe you had to do this yourself," he mentions and you press your lips together.
"Well, good thing we're starting over, yeah?" You ask and Bucky's eyes widen, his lips parting slightly. You chuckle softly at the shocked look on his face and gently press your fingers against his chin, shutting his mouth.
"Y-Yeah, yeah, sorry," Bucky whispers, running a hand through his hair.  You watch as he glides his tongue across his bottom lip, low-key wishing you could taste his lips. "So, we should probably figure out which room Tony moved us to."
You and Bucky proceed to make your way to the lobby and talk to the reception desk, hoping the billionaire already called to make the arrangements. You keep an eye out as Bucky talks to the woman, your fingers drumming along the mahogany desk.
"Ah, yes, I just got off the phone with Mr. Stark. Here are your new room keys," she says with a smile, and Bucky politely thanks her while taking the keycards into his hand.
"C'mon," he mumbles and hesitantly grabs your hand, his blue eyes looking around the place.
Your eyes widen upon seeing the elevator door opening, a few men you recognize standing inside of it and you push Bucky towards the wall.
"Y/N-"
"Kiss me," you whisper and his blue eyes widen as he looks down at you.
"W-What-"
"Public display of affection makes people uncomfortable," you state, remembering Natasha mentioning that if you were ever in a sticky situation.
Bucky wets his lips and nods his head in agreement. "Yes, they do…" he trails off and you let out a huff of breath.
You grab a hold of his shirt, pulling him closer to you as you lean on your toes. Bucky places his hand against the wall, stabilizing himself as your lips connect with his. His vibranium hand grips your hip, a short moan escaping his lips as your fingers card through his hair.
Your heart flutters in your chest at the feeling of his soft lips. It takes Bucky a few seconds before he starts moving his lips against yours, deepening the kiss. You hear the men muttering to themselves as they walk past the two of you.
"Fuckin' kids," one of them grunts.
Bucky leans forward, pressing your back against the wall as he pulls away slightly. You keep your eyes closed and you breathe heavily as his nose nudges yours lightly.
"Are they gone?" He whispers against your lips.
You flutter your eyes open and look over his shoulder, seeing them walking out the main doors of the hotel. "Y-Yeah," you mumble, causing the brunette to take a step back. "Sorry about that, I just… didn't know what else to do."
Bucky shakes his head, mumbling that it’s alright. He reaches for your hand again, leading you towards the elevator. You chew on your bottom lip as the two of you stand in the elevator in silence, feeling the tension between the two of you thickening.
“Why don’t you head to the new room and I’ll work on transferring our stuff?” Bucky mentions and you nod your head in response.
“Sure,” you mumble and grab one of the room keys from his hand, watching the muscly man step out of the elevator. “I’ll see you up there.”
After a short ride up a couple of more floors, you step out of the elevator before heading towards your new room. Maybe one with two beds this time. You think to yourself while placing the key into the lock. You step into the room and let out a gasp, seeing rose petals everywhere. “Oh, no,” you mumble and shut the door quickly, trying to gather as many petals as you can. “What in the actual fuck, Tony. I swear to God,” You mumble to yourself while rolling your eyes.
The door handle to the room begins to turn and you rush towards it, opening it just a smidge. Bucky glances down at you with a concerned look as you try to find the right words. “What’s going on?” He asks you and you press your lips together. “Y/N?”
“Just… don’t take it out on me, okay?” You whisper and Bucky furrows his brows as you fully open the hotel room door.
Bucky’s eyes widened after seeing rose petals everywhere, causing him to curse under his breath. “I’m going to kill him,” he states and a chuckle leaves your lips.
You grab your bag from the hallway before shutting the room’s door. You watch Bucky aggressively pick up flower petals from the floor and furniture. “Maybe this was the only room available,” you chuckle while heading towards the bedroom.
“I doubt it,” he mutters bitterly as you open the secondary door.
“Oh, come one,” you groan as you notice the large king-sized bed sitting in the middle of the room. “Bucky!”
“Yeah?” He calls out, hearing his footsteps grow closer to where you’re standing. You glance over your shoulder and see his lips part in disbelief. “You’re joking me,” Bucky sighs before rubbing his fingers against his forehead.
You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and wet your lips. “I’ll take the couch this time,” you tell him and Bucky glances down at you.
“Y-You have bruised ribs, Y/N. I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch,” he mentions and you shrug your shoulders in response.
A sigh leaves your lips as you slap your hands along your thighs, turning to face Bucky. “Well, if you’re willing to deal with me… you can sleep in the same bed. I don’t mind,” you shyly tell him, feeling your cheeks flush. You begin to panic when Bucky says nothing and you clear your throat, scratching the back of your neck. “O-Or you don’t have to. I just wanted you to be comfortable.”
Bucky’s blue eyes soften at your words as he watches you walk further into the room. The man wets his lips before running a hand through his hair. “We can share,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear.
“A-Are you sure?” You stutter, your eyes meeting his and the brunette nods his head in response. Bucky gives you an awkward smile and you let out a tiny giggle, taking a step towards him.
“What are you laughing about?” He huffs and you bite your lip, bringing your hands to his face before lifting the sides of his lips. Bucky playfully rolls his eyes and swats your hands away from him.
A genuine smile graces his pink lips and your heart flutters at the sight. “There’s a real smile,” you tell him, both of your cheeks heating up. “Should do it more often, Bucky, it looks good on you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bucky whispers before walking out of the room to gather his things.
-
“Okay, so, I managed to gather some more intel on Gabriel,” Bucky mentions while walking into the bedroom. The super-soldier grabs the laptop Tony supplied him before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”
You lift the ice pack from your ribs and glance down at the bruised skin. “As good as I can be, I guess. It still hurts to bend over a bit, but I manage,” you chuckle as Bucky glances over his shoulder, seeing the purplish skin. “What’d you find out?”
“That he’s got a business meeting in the restaurant later tonight. Turns out the man he’s meeting has ties to HYDRA,” Bucky informs you while typing out what he discovered.
Bucky closes the laptop after finishing the report, making sure it is sent to Tony before fully turning the device off. Your eyes watch him gracefully move throughout the room, feeling a bit useless after getting attacked over twenty-four hours ago. “Do you need help with the meeting?” You ask him and the super-soldier shakes his head. “Buck-”
“You still need to heal, Y/N. I got this,” he mentions, and you sigh, running a hand through your hair.
“Can I at least be on comms when you go? I'm tired of just sitting here and doing nothing," you bargain.
Bucky doesn't answer you while pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it on the chair that sits in the corner of the room. "Fine, you can be on comms," he mumbles and you grin as then throws the covers back before getting on the bed.
"Thank you, Bucky," you whisper as the super-soldier lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
He turns his head towards you, his eyes noticing the fading bruise under your eye. He shuffles so he's laying on his side before reaching his vibranium hand out. Bucky notices how you don't flinch, seeing the smile steady on your lips as his metal fingers glide across your under-eye.
"Does it hurt?" Bucky whispers and you shake your head.
His eyes flicker down to your lips for a hot second before meeting your eyes again. "Have you ever kissed anyone before me, Bucky?" You ask him as you shuffle a bit closer to him.
You notice his cheeks blush and you teasingly smile at him. "I- No," he confesses and you tuck your lip between your teeth.
"C-Can I ask you a serious question?" You whisper, feeling his breath fanning your face. Bucky nods his head against his pillow, feeling a bit nervous about what you're going to ask. "Why do you hate me?"
A sigh leaves his lips as his blue eyes flutter shut for a few moments. Bucky wets his lips before sitting up, leaning his back against the headboard. You sit up as well, keeping your eyes on him as you notice the gears turning in his head.
"I don't hate you, Y/N. I really don't. I just… I guess I was jealous of you. I mean," Bucky pauses and slaps his hands against his thighs, "I don't have a good reason for being cold to you. Steve's right, you know? I do have a hard time showing my feelings."
Bucky's hand gently grabs yours and strokes the back of your hand. "It took me getting hurt for you to realize," you mumble softly and Bucky's chest clenches.
"I'm sorry that I let you down. I was so apathetic and I know it's pathetic, but I'm going to be here for you here on out," he exclaims and the corner of your mouth lifts into a small smile.
"Promise me?" You whisper as Bucky brings his free hand to your face.
His blue eyes search yours for a few moments before gently kissing your lips. "I promise you."
You rest your forehead against his, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as your heart pounds wildly against your chest. Bucky's hand slides along the side of your throat before resting on the back of your neck. Your lips meet his again while running your hands along his torso.
The kiss didn't last long before the two of you lie back down, your head resting on his chest. "You'll always have a place in me."
-
Taglist: @wkemeup​ @jessalyn-jpeg​ @queen-of-mischief​ @metalbuckaroo​ @thewxntersoldier​ @bumblebet-20​
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onecantsimply · 2 years ago
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You briefly mentioned in your teen!reader fic that y/n goes to school and work. If you’re willing, can i request Jack visiting them at work?
Yessir yessir yes you can-
Jack was standing in front of a building, simply staring up at it for a few seconds. Though, he soon entered it, already hearing chaos within.
“Man spit that out!” “I can’t...! It’s too good..!”
The blond blinked. He then silently walked past the chaos, looking around. Someone seemed to come up to them on their own. “You look like you’re searching for something. What is it?” He questioned. “Oh. I’m searching for one of the workers here. Their name is (Y/n)?” The male blinked. “Who are you?” He tilted his head. “I’m their adoptive Father.” Jack answered, going just slightly cautious. Though, he seemed to tense down when the male then nodded. “Got it. Follow me then.” Jack silently followed after the man, looking at the chaos that had shown in the area. 
Hell, this was an entire bar fight. 
The other male opened a door. “HEY, (Y/N), YOUR DAD’S HERE!!” He yelled. (Y/n) took a few steps away from their spot to stay visible to the pair, standing a few ways in front of the door. “Hn? Oh, hi Jack.” They spoke while shaking a drink up. The blond by the door smiled faintly. “Hello, (Y/n). I just wanted to visit since you forgot a little something.” He held out a small bag. “Apparently some friend of yours sent it to you?” (Y/n) seemed to brighten up. They gently grabbed it. “FUCKIN FINALLY THIS UNIFORM’S TOO DAMN TIGHT!!” They ran off after, leaving Jack with a faint deadpan. “Language, please...” The male beside him blinked. “So, that all?” He questioned. “I’m pretty sure. Though I’d like to see how (Y/n) does in their job, if that’s okay?” Jack looked at him. “Yeah. Completely fine. They’re on their break right now though.” The blond looked at their nametag. “... I see. Well, is this place just essentially a bar?” Dylan looked up for a second. “... Pretty much.” Jack tilted his head. “Pardon me if this sounds rather rude… but why hire (Y/n) when they’re still… under the age requirement?” Dylan blinked. “… That’s not really up to me to answer. I’m not the manager, so I don’t know much. But if I had to guess, maybe the manager was desperate?” Dylan then hummed faintly. “... Though we have enough people now...” Jack looked towards a certain (H/c) haired person. They were now in a better uniform, seemingly more comfortable as they jugged some glass bottles around. “... I suspect that their performance is good, from how they’re still here?” The blond questioned. “Yeah. Maybe a little too good at their job.” 
“Hey! Spit it out! What did you just say?!” (Y/n) spoke while they dropped the glass bottles to the floor. They all shattered across it. “...” Their eyebrows gently furrowed for a moment before they picked up their glass bottle. “Ah, whatever! That shit ain’t hazing me!” They shook the liquid inside rapidly. “Alright, who the hell wants to open this one and get a spray to the face?” Dylan caught sight of Jack eyeing him faintly. “... Most times. They get serious when on the job.” The blond hummed softly. “I see...” He responded. Jack then smiled faintly. “Well, at least they’re doing good.” The blond then saw (Y/n) hand the bottle over a random customer with a chuckle. He popped the cork off, only to get a spray of beer to the face. “Alright!” Dylan loudly clapped twice, making the group look at him. “Break time’s over! Get to work, all of you! Switch out!” He spoke. (Y/n) and the other waiters had spread off. “Well, how long do you plan on staying?” Dylan turned to Jack. “... Just for a small while.” He answered. “Well, I actually don’t know.” He then tilted his head. “... Has anything happened here recently with them?” Jack caught sight of (Y/n) going behind a counter, making sure some glasses were cleaned off. Their color was one of focus. “Not that I would know of. I’ve really only been here for a few weeks, so I’m pretty new. You could ask the others who are on break though. I’m pretty sure most of them are better at explanations than I am.” Jack nodded. “Thank you, then.” He spoke. “Not a problem.” Dylan walked off to get to working while Jack had walked towards the counter. (Y/n) looked at him for a second before smiling faintly. “Hi, Jack.” They greeted, putting a glass mug on the shelf behind them. “Hello, (Y/n). I didn’t exactly expect you to work here...” They smiled faintly.
“Yeah... I kind of got put here because the former parents wanted free drinks...” (Y/n) looked to the side. “But generally, it’s really fun here. And now that the former parents are gone, I can go on and enjoy myself without worrying of them appearing randomly.” They smiled. “It’s a nice refreshment, so thank you, Dad.” Jack seemed to tense faintly from the name, though, his shoulders sunk as he tensed down. “Yes. You’re welcome, Dear.” He closed his eyes. “I want to ask you something... Has anything happened here to you?” The blond opened his eyes, seeing (Y/n)’s smile slightly drop. “Like what?” They questioned, starting to clean another glass. “Anyone bothering you in a way you have a distaste for?” (Y/n) looked up. “... Well, I suppose not recently. There was one guy when I was in my first month of working here. But he didn’t mess with me again after, somehow.” They blinked. “... I suppose that’s it though.” Jack looked around faintly, his eyes seeing the protective auras of the waiters and waitresses within the area. “... Well, you certainly have good people to go to when that happens. So if I’m not around, you can go to them for help, alright?” (Y/n) nodded as they started to clean another glass. “Got it.” They responded. “Well, I have my day off today, so I may as well stay a bit longer.” Jack spoke. “I’ll be off work after this anyways. It’s just a few hours this time for the Holiday.” (Y/n) replied. They smiled faintly. “So you and I can spend some time together after, if you’d like.” They spoke. Jack felt a smile of his own connect to his face. “... That would be lovely, Dear. He responded. “There’s a cafe a bit away from here if you want to go when I’m off work.” Jack nodded. “I saw when making my way over here. I go over there regularly.” He spoke. (Y/n) blinked. “Shit, really? That’s pretty awesome.” They smiled before receiving a gentle flick to the forehead. 
“Language. Just because you’re at work doesn’t mean that you can curse in front of me regularly.” (Y/n) smiled in a rather apologetic way with a gentle chuckle. “Right, sorry.” They replied. The person then continued with cleaning their glass. “What do you get from that cafe?” They questioned. “Normally, apple pie.” (Y/n) blinked, tilting their head. “... What’s that?” They questioned. Jack blinked as well. “... Okay... you’re trying it when we get there. I’m not letting you go when it comes to you not having tried apple pie.” The male’s eyes narrowed. “Right, right.” (Y/n) could feel their smile slightly grow. “Anyhow... are bar fights usual here?” They nodded. “Oh, yeah. Plenty of these occur during the week, so they’re pretty regular. We make everyone clean it up after though, since it’s their mess.” The person sighed faintly as Jack once again closed his eyes. “Well.... I could see why you’re so chaotic then.” He replied. “Hey-” (Y/n) gently put their glass mug on the shelf once again as they heard the blond chuckle. “Though still, I’m glad you have a nice work area. And don’t be afraid to give me a small talk if you get within that type of situation.” They nodded. “Got it.” They replied. 
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claudeleine · 4 years ago
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Did it ever occur to anyone that Wanda’s Roma background in the comics was BUILT on racist stereotypes? Similarly to M’Baku but also several others. And maybe that’s why the show runners stepped away from that..?
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okay, so i think what we have here is someone who skimmed the original post in question (paragraph 2) and likely didn’t ready any of the links attached because that first message has been addressed already... but for anyone else in the same boat:
from gavia baker-whitelaw’s article:
Wanda and Pietro's Romani heritage was canon for decades (including in their non-mutant backstory), although this depiction often had problematic undertones. Wanda is literally a mysterious foreign witch, a damaging stereotype that acquired more nuance in later comics. But instead of updating Wanda and Pietro as modern Jewish/Romani superheroes (much like how Black Panther's charismatic M'Baku started out as a villain named "Man-Ape"), Disney whitewashed them. This casting choice was divisive in 2013, when The Atlantic highlighted the negative connotations of casting a white blonde actress as Scarlet Witch. Roma people are a marginalized ethnic minority, and Disney chose to erase their presence from the MCU.
...This rewrite was rather tone-deaf, because it involved Wanda and Pietro volunteering for neo-Nazi experiments. In the comics, their original parents were Holocaust survivors. Whedon also ignored the most obvious solution to Wanda and Pietro's non-mutant backstory: Django and Marya Maximoff, their Romani parents from the comics.
white washing characters is never the best solution. it doesn’t address the issue in so much as it just sweeps it under the rug. as well as perpetuating the idea that white is some unproblematic neutral that ppl can just default to. like can you imagine if in an attempt to “fix” how m’baku is portrayed in the comics, they just...put a white guy in the role? you can’t just remove a characters racial or ethnic background. no one is saying that her comic background hasn’t been problematic, but this isn’t the way to remedy that.
@scarlet--wiccan has an amazing post about the erasure of this whole family’s ethnic identity in the fox x-men films (x).
@villyns also has a good post outlining some examples of the mcu white washing rather than actually fixing the problem (x).
and here’s a decent article on white washing in media and why it’s a problem (x), quote from this article below:
Making a movie is not an easy feat; there are many things to take into account and even more people that you have to please, but there are also standards and morals to uphold. Whitewashing, blackface, brownface or yellowface is not just about denying jobs to minority actors, appropriating the stories of these groups, perpetuating stereotypes or keeping them invisible, it is about undermining their value as human beings and turning them into stepping stones, props, for white artists.
as for the second part. i think that’s entirely possible, actually. it’s done a lot to characters, where they won’t explicitly state their ethnicity but give them attributes from one (often stereotypes) and make them a caricature without making it, like i said, explicit. take the concept of jewish-coded villains in media. no one from disney has ever said that mother gothel in tangled is jewish, but it’s been pointed out by everyone that she’s jewish coded through stereotypes, ones specifically often used for “evil” witch-type characters, which is no coincidence: large, hooked nose, curly hair, greedy, etc. edit: hollywood uses coding like this often for racial/ethnic groups and the lgbtq+ community.
the maximoffs in the mcu and xmcu have never been explicitly made romani, with disney going so far as to change their parents romani names (django and marya) to oleg and irina. the name changes were unnecessary, except to distance the maximoffs from their original romani identity. the mcu changed their origins stories and cast non-romani actors to portray the maximoffs, and considering they went as far as to remove their jewish heritage as i mentioned before, it’s not a stretch that this is all an attempt to veil their romani background too. while they often joke about stealing and fortune tellers and poverty (the wv halloween episode really put it all in one place, but they’ve been doing it forever in the xmcu and mcu), i wouldn’t say this is an attempt to make them romani as much as it is to use a romani-esque caricature, to use it as a sort of “aesthetic” for the twins without acknowledging that it’s an ethnicity. the aspects they choose to keep are often either negative or painted in a negative light. i think the fact that el*zabeth ols*en continuously uses the g-slur to talk about wanda and costume design, speaks to that. 
and even if the mcu came out and said, “oh, our wanda is romani,” that wouldn’t change the fact that she’s played by a non-romani actress (who continues to use anti-romani slurs, despite knowing she shouldn’t) and that so far, they have not explicitly stated in the mcu that she is.
from gavia baker-whitelaw’s article:
Wanda and Pietro's whitewashing feels like an attempt to "neutralize" them. It frames their ethnicity as a problem to be avoided, rather than an opportunity to celebrate an under-represented group. This also meant that Marvel could cast famous white actors instead of sourcing an unknown Romani actor, during a period when the MCU was visibly uninterested in racial diversity.
But Marvel Studios wanted to have its cake and eat it, too. While Wanda is now white and Sokovian, her role isn't completely divorced from its Romani origins. It can't be, because everything in the MCU is informed by the comics. That's how we end up with El*zabeth Ols*n describing her Age of Ultron costume as "kind of this g*psy, vagabond feel"—terms that usually wouldn't come to mind for a simple black minidress and maroon jacket. Wanda's Romani heritage remains visible through veiled references and superficial costume choices, sidestepping any hint of meaningful representation.
from jessica reidy’s article:
Today, some Roma do call themselves witches, and serve as healers and spell-casters in a community, but make no mistake, being a witch is a job like any other. I was trained by my grandmother, I studied hard, I started a business, and I take bookings in my Google calendar. This is the context that most people miss when creating (or, in this case, adapting) Romani witch characters like Wanda Maximoff, and while the Scarlet Witch has plenty of magic, she does not need to fall into the stereotype, nor have her identity erased.
Representation matters. Wanda’s Romani ethnicity has been well-stated in the comic books, sometimes capturing the discrimination and violence that Roma face, and other times falling flat and stereotypical. Marvel also owes us, as Roma are often rendered as mentally unstable thieves, such as Dr. Doom, Wanda and Pietro’s community, and Wanda herself, and the entertainment giant capitalizes off of these stereotypes, reinforcing them all the while.
Every opportunity we get for accurate and positive representation is essential to us because it shapes the way people understand us.
linking the post i made again, because it has a list of articles and posts i’d recommend really taking the time to look through and engaging with them, as well as following folks like jessica reidy and @scarlet--wiccan​ on social media for more info from romani folks. 
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faulty-writes · 3 years ago
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I want, no NEED more of that sweet, sweet Monoma vs. Iida love triangle goodness! Headcanons, a scenario, something to satisfy this unexpected craving!!
Let's see what I can do about this. I was going to write headcanons but I guess my brain couldn't comprehend how to do that so I guess you could call this...a little classroom scenario. I'm not sure but enjoy it nonetheless.
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It came as little surprise that Tenya and Neito felt something towards you, but you never imagined it turning into a battle to win your affection. But then again, while Yuuei mainly focused on hero training. There were situations where students were put in competitive positions.
Of course, these moments could also take place outside the designated training areas. "What's the matter dear class A? Oh, don't tell me you're threatened by a possible blooming friendship between myself and the lovely Y/n?" Neito stated as he proceeded to lay his hand on the small of your back and took it upon himself to cradle your hand in his free one.
A rather embarrassing position, especially knowing that your classmates were glaring at the display. But somehow Neito's taunting always seemed to strike every last one of your classmate's nerves and considering that the blond did it on purpose, their reactions were understandable. But even so, the president of class A, Tenya Iida while disliking this taunting as much as the rest of his fellow classmates was at least formal about expressing it.
Though you were almost surprised by his slightly defensive nature and how his shoulders squared when he approached Neito. "Pardon, but I do not believe you are in the correct classroom," he stated just before he tilted his head and adjusted his glasses by pushing them back to their proper position on the bridge of his nose.
You were a little impressed at how composed Tenya was even when it was obvious he wasn't the happiest at the moment. When he lifted his head back up and looked into Neito's eyes, it only seemed to bring a smirk to the blond's face. "Oh?" he replied, seemingly not taking Tenya's words seriously.
"Please release Y/n and be on your way," Tenya stated as he reached over and placed his hand on your shoulder. You could tell there was an urgency associated with his touch and through the way his fingers seemed to curl and tremble slightly. As if holding your shoulder was the only thing he could do to prevent himself from growing violent or punching Neito.
You decided to remain quiet, despite your rapid heartbeat and heated cheeks. Anyone in your position would react the same way. Essentially having three hands on you while frustrated tension filled the air. But you wondered if somehow Tenya felt threatened by Neito or the fact that Neito was taking your attention and time away.
The thick tension continued to grow into something more awkward, but that could be due to the silence that accompanied it. You didn't dare move, but you did glance between the two boys. Each one locked into some type of staring contest with the other and your fellow classmates seemed just as confused as you were as to what would happen next.
"Heh," Neito seemed to break the silence first and finally released you. However, in doing so he seemed to push you away from him a little too carelessly which caused you to stumble back. Despite relief filling you for a brief moment before you found yourself crashing into someone else.
"Ah!" you couldn't help but exclaim in surprise. However, such a feeling quickly faded when you realized it was only Tenya. Unlike Neito, Tenya seemed to carry a sweeter scent to him. Somewhat like lavender and though it was relaxing, you couldn't help but feel that same heat rush back to your cheeks.
Seemed any close contact you made with either of the boys resulted in this reaction. "Do not release them in such a manner! They could have been harmed due to your careless action!" Tenya scolded as he proceeded to chop his hand through the air. But once more, Neito seemed unphased and a soft laugh escaped him.
"Oh? Perhaps you're merely jealous that dear Y/n seemed to fall submissive to my touch," he shot back and you heard a struggled noise come from Tenya. Although it was almost amusing to see his dropped jaw and overall horrified expression.
"I...d-do not speak in such a manner! I do not hold any vulgar intentions when it comes to the matter of Y/n!" Tenya exclaimed and whether it was his intention or not. You felt his grip tighten on you, pulling you even closer. The fabric of Yuuei's signature gray blazer pressed against your cheek and that lavender aroma grew stronger.
"Oh, my apologies," Neito began as he pressed his hand against his chest. "I didn't think the members of class A could sink any lower when it comes to the matter of courageous acts," he stated. Implying nothing more than that Tenya was simply too afraid to act on his hormones which yet again seemed to throw the otherwise mature student off.
"I..." Tenya was usually never at a loss for words but it seemed somehow, Neito could actually best him. Yet again another smirk appeared on the blond's face and he took a step forward. "Hey, why don't you beat it and leave the prez alone!?" Kyoka spoke in Tenya's defense which seemed to prompt Kaminari and Eijiro to speak as well.
"Yeah, what's your problem man!?" Kaminari exclaimed before Eijiro spoke. "Seriously man, you have some issues. Leave Iida and Y/n alone!" his words came out with a slight growl which was somewhat surprising given Eijiro's carefree nature. "Now, now," Neito stated as he raised his hands up, almost acting innocent.
"Is class A really threatening a member of class B? How terrifying," his words were coated in sarcasm. You blinked, wanting to speak up but also not able to take your eyes off Neito who approached you with his hand stretched out. "Hm?" for a moment you looked surprised, but it appeared as though Neito wanted you to take the offered hand.
Tenya didn't seem so sure it was a good idea but he didn't fight when you stepped away from him. "I think dear Y/n is the only one of you I can actually stand," Neito stated when you finally laid your hand in his. He then leaned over and brought your hand up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your knuckles which yet again seemed to upset Tenya.
But the fact Kaminari and Eijiro held him back went unnoticed by you. Though you did catch the way Neito's eyes glanced over your shoulder and how a satisfied expression sparkled in them. Then he lowered your hand and turned to walk away. "Goodbye class A," he said, once more using a mocking sort of tone before he looked at Tenya.
"Oh, and goodbye to you too...Iida," he said with a chuckle before finally exiting the room. You stood there slightly confused before your body was pulled back causing a gasp to escape involuntarily. This was followed by a grunt as you found yourself yet again pressed up against Tenya.
The only difference was this time he was grasping the wrist of the hand that Neito kissed. "Huh?" you blinked and tilted your head to look up at him. "...Iida?" your voice was soft before you watched him look down at you.
"Y/n," he stated, "May I escort you to the restroom?" he questioned and you could feel the way he slid his thumb along the pulsing veins of your wrist. "Huh?" you replied as you titled your own head in confusion. "What do you mean?" obviously you were confused by his request.
Especially because you didn't ask for him to escort you anywhere, let alone the bathroom. "I do believe it's best you wash your hand due to Monoma's contact with it," he replied and you couldn't help but look at Tenya with a now annoyed expression. However, his own expression didn't change.
Still, maybe the reason he wanted you to wash your hand was simply that he was jealous Neito had kissed it in the first place. You took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. "If it makes you feel better Iida...you can walk me there," you replied, though you couldn't help but fear this small rivalry of affection would interfere with your everyday school life.
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yougotthat-write · 3 years ago
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Tinder (Rafael Barba x Reader)
Word Count: 2,400
Warnings: Female reader, fluff, Rollisi shenanigans, cringey and inappropriate pick-up lines, potential PTSD for former/current users of dating apps and all the awkwardness that ensues from it :)
Summary: Amanda and Sonny try to find the perfect match for their uptight (and while he would never admit it - lonely) A.D.A.
Read on AO3 here!
It had started off as a joke, really.
Rafael Barba would never sign up onto a dating app if it wasn’t against his will. When he heard the snickering of Amanda and Sonny when he stopped by the 16th precinct, his feet couldn’t help themselves but bring him over to the two detectives.
Amanda bit her cheek to settle herself as the ADA’s polished shoes made their way over. Sonny’s ears turned pink at the tips, which gave Rafael the tell-tale sign that Sonny and Amanda were up to no good.
Hands in his pockets, Rafael quipped, “What?”
Amanda and Sonny exchanged glances. The silence between the two was not a normal thing but when Rafael asked a second time - more aggressive - Sonny held out a cell phone to the lawyer. Rafael’s brows went up in question but when Sonny motioned him to take it, Rafael grabbed it. Looking down at the device, the screen lit up and a plethora of information singed itself into his brain.
Rafael Barba, 37
Manhattan, NY
Assistant District Attorney
Oh baby, I’ll give you so much due process, standing will be the only issue.
Rafael’s eyes widened at the dumb pick-up line. His thumb swiped through the photos. One was of an appearance on the news - dressed up in a suit on the steps of the courthouse with a furrowed brow and serious look on his face. One was him at Forlini’s - scowling over the rim of his bourbon while sitting at the bar next to a grinning Sonny. He remembered when Amanda took this picture. It was the day he told Sonny he could be his second chair. Another picture showed him actually smiling - dressed in a Tom Ford tuxedo, champagne flute in one hand while the other was resting on the waist of his date for that night. She was an oil company lobbyist that he hooked up with sometimes when she wasn’t in D.C.
“What is this?” Rafael’s eyes hardened as he looked up at the two detectives. Sonny flinched at Rafael’s tone. Amanda simply blinked at Rafael. She wasn’t one to deal with attitude willingly but given how uptight Rafael could be sometimes, she was letting it slide. Rafael’s eyes went back down to the dating profile and he felt an annoyance bubble within him. “What the hell is this?”
“Calm down,” Amanda said as she grabbed the phone back with a roll of her eyes. “It’s just a dating profile.”
“Of me!” Rafael looked at Amanda like she was speaking some foreign, alien language. “Why does it exist?”
Sonny’s face seemed to become more pink. A hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it as his mentor for all intents and purposes became more annoyed. “We just thought it would be fun-”
“You thought it would be fun impersonating a Manhattan A.D.A.!” Rafael’s voice was raised. A few passing officers gave some glances to the group. Amanda waved a dismissive hand to one of them, letting them know that Rafael wasn’t someone to worry about when angry. “You’re lucky I don’t have you arrested.”
Amanda snorted, “We were going to tell you about it when we got you a date.”
“Yeah,” Sonny added, “we just thought you were stressed lately and needed someone to... ya know.”
If looks could kill, Rafael Barba would have murdered two very well-liked and very hard working detectives right then and there in a New York police precinct. He would have to tell Olivia that she would be short staffed for god knows how long.
Rafael’s fingers came up to pinch the bridge of his nose, taking a hard breath before looking back at the detectives. “You think I need your help getting laid?”
Sonny’s mouth gaped like a goldfish, trying to find words but nothing seemed to make itself at home in his pretty little head. He looked over at Amanda with wide eyes, hoping for her to smooth over the situation. Amanda simply shrugged her shoulders, “It’s not that we think you can’t get laid, Counselor,” she paused, eyes almost sympathetic and it made Rafael’s nostrils flare, “you just haven’t had… anyone around… long-term, you know?”
“I’m struggling to find where this is any of your concern,” Rafael pointed a finger at the two of them, “or why you would think I would find it on a dating app.” Rafael’s mind was flooding with things to make the lives of these two detectives a living hell. Maybe if he pulled some strings with Olivia, she’d put them on desk duty for a few weeks. “I want it deleted - get rid of it!”
Amanda held the device out of the prosecutor’s reach, giving him a few nods of understanding but she needed to tell him of one important thing, “But before we do that, you should know that there’s someone who matched with you-” Sonny nodded enthusiastically, “and she messaged you - us? - back.”
“It’s why we were laughing,” Sonny’s smile faltered when met with the fiery gaze of Rafael. He cleared his throat before continuing, “we found the dumb pick-up line on the internet and she shot back with one of her own.”
Rafael’s fire was lessened with the mention of a match. And she happened to message him? Amanda stepped closer to Rafael, finger mindlessly swiping from one screen and to another. There Rafael had seen the actual large amount of messages he was getting. “Seems like more than one match.” He muttered under his breath. And while this whole ordeal wasn’t something he necessarily wanted, the temporary boost of his ego made his shoulders straighten and his tongue dart over his lower lip.
“You’re very popular, Counselor,” Amanda’s brows wagged.
“But we like her the most,” Sonny said, “she seems fun!”
Rafael’s eyes rolled, before they settled on Amanda’s phone.
Are you the Court of Appeals because I’m tryna get overturned.
After he read the message, he couldn’t help the snicker. Back in his Harvard days, Rafael had heard just about every dumb pick-up line you could think of that was in the realm of lawyers. He may have even used a few of them but could you blame the guy. Rafael watched Amanda switch over to your profile.
Rafael swallowed. And then he grabbed the phone out of Amanda's hands. She let out a protest but Rafael had taken a few steps away and studied your profile like it was a law book and he had a final the next day.
It stated your name and your age. Then the same location as Rafael - Manhattan, NY. Your job was stated simply as a lawyer. Huh. That certainly piqued Rafael’s interest. In your bio, you had:
What better alibi could you have than spending the night with me?
He swiped through your photos. One was of you at the Central Park Zoo, scowling at a monkey who was seemingly doing the same thing back at you. Another was of you at a bar or a club - one arm thrown over the shoulder of another woman and a fruity drink held in your free hand. Your attention was focused on your drink rather than your friend or the person taking the picture. The last photo was of you at a brunch of some kind. You held up a mimosa with a wide smile and a large sun hat atop your head.
“Did you say anything back?” Rafael asked. Amanda shook her head with a smirk. You were certainly attractive and if you had taken the time to message Rafael on the cursed app then you must have thought that he was attractive too. He went back to the message you sent and swallowed again. “W-what should I say?”
Amanda’s smirk didn’t falter as she stepped over to Rafael, plucking the phone out of his frozen hands. Rafael heard the speedy tapping of the blonde woman’s fingers, tapping out a message quickly. Sonny stepped over, peeking down over Amanda’s shoulder. Rafael watched Sonny’s face as it went from curiosity to what Amanda was writing and to a lopsided smile, essentially giving his approval of the message.
Rafael didn’t like the idea of Sonny approving anything of his - especially if it came to how he got a date but he patiently waited until a swoosh noise came from the phone. Rafael stepped over to see what she had written but Amanda’s fingers were quick with logging out of the app and swiftly deleting it off her phone.
“Hey-” Rafael couldn’t stop the protest from his lips, brows furrowed. Amanda ignored him, grabbing a sticky note and a pen. She scrawled the login information for the account and slapped it onto his chest.
“I don’t want it on my phone if that conversation starts to get dirty,” Amanda said. Sonny chuckled.
“I think it started out pretty fiery.”
Rafael held the sticky note in his fingers. He could feel his phone in his suit pocket. It felt hot and electric against him, even through all the layers of clothes he wore. “Nevertheless, I’m deleting the account,” he looked over the two detectives with a hard gaze, “and you are to never to do this again. Or else I will be put in jail for voluntary manslaughter.” Amanda swiftly ignored Rafael’s threat whereas Sonny seemed to take it more seriously. The lanky man gave a nod before settling himself at his desk.
Rafael stepped away from the detectives’ desks and dug his phone out from his pocket. His fingers twitched and he felt this wave of embarrassment wash over him as he searched the app’s name and watched it download onto his phone. It seemed to take hours for the dumb thing to fully be situated onto his device. He tapped it, used the sticky note information to log in and was greeted with new profiles to swipe across. He ignored them and went to his messages to see what the pesky blonde detective had said. He hoped it wasn’t something too inappropriate. The last thing Rafael needed was headlines of him sexually harassing women over social media.
He hesitated for a second before tapping on the messages with you. He took a deep breath. He felt nervous. Was it because of the potential can of worms that Amanda could have unleashed? Was it because he found you attractive? Was it because the two detectives were right and it had been a while since he’s had anyone around? While Rafael was capable of finding a temporary suitor to share his bed, he couldn’t find anyone to become something more permanent.
His eyes searched the screen, brain trying to quickly decipher the jumble of letters on his screen. “Ay Dios mío,” Rafael muttered under his breath and the grip on his phone tightened. Rafael thought he read the message a dozen times, just over and over again, trying to really see if Amanda truly did send this to you. He tapped various spaces on his phone, trying to see if there was an undo button but to no avail, the message taunted him.
Something something dictum. Sleep with me.
Rafael was caught off guard by Olivia who called his name from her office door. Rafael cleared his throat, slid his phone back into his pocket with one hand and slid the other down his chest, smoothing out any wrinkles in his shirt. Rafael finally remembered why he was there at the precinct. He needed to do his job and watch a line-up be conducted. Olivia had sounded very confident over the phone, so he figured he had a simple day.
He had spent the rest of his day watching various victims come forward to pick out their attacker confidently. When the defense lawyer monotonously asked to speak with his client after the lineups were done, Rafael felt his phone buzz. For a brief moment, Rafael had forgotten the dating app debacle. He wondered if it was Carmen, telling him of more paperwork and messages that needed to be signed and answered.
But no, it wasn’t Carmen.
It was a notification from the stupid app.
You have a new message!
Rafael bit down on his bottom lip, finger hovering over the notification. He took a breath and tapped his phone. God, what is wrong with me? Grow some cojones, Barba. Rafael watched the screen load and then plaster your message into his line of vision.
Ah, this definitely is a catfish account because there’s no way an ADA would use a line like that.
Rafael smirked. Took a moment to think and then started to type.
The DA has very low standards these days.
You messaged back quickly.
If they’re hiring based on looks, then I’d say they have very high standards, Counselor.
Rafael’s hand lifted to scratch at his jaw, a smile breaking across his face. His eyes widened at another message from you.
Does the prosecution want to rest at my place later tonight?
The forwardness from you made Rafael’s smile turn into a smirk. If Olivia or Sonny had seen him, they would even consider to call it a cocky smirk.
Would you want to meet for drinks first or just take this back to chambers?
I suppose I could side-bar for some drinks.
Great!
He paused before sending another message.
Let’s just agree to not use any more lawyer puns.
Objection!
After setting up a time to meet up at a swanky bar later that night, Rafael entered the bullpen again but with an air of confidence about him. Amanda noticed the shift in energy within the counselor. The corner of her mouth ticked up, fingers fiddling with a pen as she leaned back in her chair, side-eyeing Rafael. “Line-up went well?”
Rafael picked a piece of nonexistent lint off his suit jacket. “It went great, Rollins.” She hummed quietly, eyes studying every inch of his face with amusement.
“We’re heading to Forlini’s tonight,” Amanda stated, “would you like to come?” At the mention of Forlini’s, Sonny peeked over at the two of them from his laptop.
Rafael gave one curt shake of his head. “I’m afraid I’m busy tonight.” And with that, Rafael had turned and exited the bullpen and towards the elevator. Even though he hated it in theory of what Amanda and Sonny did, Rafael couldn’t deny that he didn’t not like the outcome of it.
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cuquitalocita · 3 years ago
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i love you yeah yeah yeah |rowaelin month- day 3|
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rowaelin masterlist 
an: i’m not gonna lie, i had so so much fun writing this one! i’m a tennis player and my sister is as well, therefore why i know so much about the junior pro league. for those of you who don’t know, the orange bowl is an actual tournament played internationally for juniors and i’m ranting wow so anyway i hope this isn’t too tennis vocab-y :)
word count: 3,876
~~
It’s the final two days before competition at the International Orange Bowl this year being held in Terrasen and it’s no surprise that tensions between players and academies are more than high. We’re so glad to be here for yet another year of thrilling competition in which the winners will automatically be placed into the first round of the U.S. Open. I, for one, and more than excited to see some new teen faces this year, what about you, Gavriel?
You know Cairn, I completely agree and as someone from Terrasen, you must be more than excited to see some friendly competition on your home turf.
Oh, I sure am excited, but I don’t know if you’d call this competition exactly ‘friendly.’ For those of you unaware, the rivalry between the TAT (Tennis Academy of Terrasen) and the DTC (Doranelle Tennis Center) has been going on for close to ten years now, beginning all the way back to when founders Maeve Vesta and Evalin Galathynius were in college, rivals through and through. Now adults, their children carry on their competitive legacy, taking the nation by storm. If you see the final match of any tournament, you can bet your money it’s a Doranelle kid and a Terrasen kid. 
The stakes sure are high during this tournament, as it isn’t closed, like the academies’ usual ones. Instead, anyone player eighteen years old and younger with the qualifying points was eligible to register. I’m looking forward to seeing some new faces this year. 
Me too, but you can never go wrong with the usual suspects. This year, my money is on eighteen year- old Rowan Whitethorn from Doranelle, ranked second in the country, in the men’s finals. As Maeve’s nephew, Rowan has been put in the spotlight for most of his life, not to mention taking a clear leadership role among the DTC alongside Lorcan Salvaterre. 
That’s a good point, Gavriel, in the past years Rowan has made it to at least the quarter-finals but has always lost before he can truly do. I have a feeling the kid has a lot more in him.  And as for the women, I wouldn’t be too surprised to see the Terrasen seventeen year- old cruising through a few rounds before her tough competition starts. We can’t expect anything less than Evalin Galathynius’ daughter, right?
I for one, am more than excited for pre- first-round interviews. It’s always quite interesting to see each players’ mindset before they set out for blood.
~~
“What do you think our favorite golden girl has in store for us this year, Gavriel? Something tells me she’s a little more than annoyed given what happened at the finals of the last international tournament held in Terassen when Remelle Frost from the Doranelle academy beat her in what was the biggest upset of the season.”
Aelin rolled her eyes and glared at the back of her mother’s seat, the woman in question frowning as the annoying voice of Cairn Rossa rang through the rental car. She reached forward to turn the station off just as Gavriel’s voice rang out once more.
“Let’s not beat around the bush here, Cairn,” the older man was responding. “I’ve been doing this just a bit longer than you enough to know when a player isn’t themselves. One loss isn’t the definition of a player the same way one win isn’t either. I suggest both teams- including Aelin and Remelle themselves- step onto the court, and play.” 
Aelin let out a satisfied huff. She knew she had always liked Gavriel. Aelin liked that the man looked at the players as more than just players in a video game or statistics on a screen. As a former player himself, Aelin knew the man understood the game in and out and was more than qualified to report during the national tournaments, no matter where he was born and what side he was essentially placed on. 
The station was snapped off as her mother’s finger found the correct button, earning an annoyed glare from the Uber driver next to her that she promptly ignored in favor of turning back to her daughter, opening her mouth to say something. Aelin’s own eyes stared back at her before shifting down to the phone she held in her hand. It had just buzzed signaling a new notification that had her mother lifting her brows. 
Aelin immediately shifted forward in an attempt to look over her mother’s should before her hand was on her face, batting her daughter away with a motherly ‘leave me alone’ look. She relented, leaning back into her seat with slumped shoulders. Finally, her mother huffed but remained with her back facing Aelin. 
She knew it was different this year, she could practically feel it in the air. Without her father with the two women in the car, the tournament atmosphere was a different universe. 
It was getting dark outside, the sun setting behind them as they drove through the dazzling city. The car came to an abrupt stop in front of the hotel that sent Aelin jerking out of her own thoughts. Her mother turned back to her with a sad knowing smile and patted her daughter’s knee.
“We’re here. Try to get some sleep- you have a long day tomorrow.”
~~
“What’s the plan for today?” Aelin asked her mother around a mouthful of bagel the next morning. It wasn’t every day the founder of the University came to watch her players in a tournament, but whoever won this won would be fed into the first round of an official professional tournament. It would be amazing PR for the academy, Aelin knew, but she also knew her mother felt bad that her father had escorted Aelin to all of her tournaments in prior years. And now that he wasn’t here anymore… 
“Eat up- after you’re done I’ve reserved three courts at the complex and we’ll get together with everyone.” ‘Everyone’ being every other players from the academy who had enough points to enter the qualifiers. Not all of them were as highly ranked as Aelin, but she found it helpful to train with them all the same. They were her friends. “We do need to pick Lysandra up from the airport first though,” she said as she frowned at her phone. “Her flight was supposed to have landed a few minutes ago but she hasn’t reached out…”
Aelin rolled her eyes at her mother, she always did have a thing with protectiveness over her best friend. 
“Mom, don’t worry about it,” Aelin assured her. “Aed said he would pick her up and then meet us at the courts. I wouldn’t want to be in that car if I were you.” She faked a gag, causing her mother to laugh. 
“Alright then. Eat, find your rackets, and take the rental to the courts. It was just delivered this morning. I have some business to finish here at the hotel.” She left Aelin with a kiss to the head. 
~~
It didn’t take long for Aelin to pull up to the familiar yet daunting tennis complex bigger than even the academy, and she pushed the car into park, simply staring for a moment. 
This was it. 
Three years she had come close to winning as the youngest person in history. So close. But this was the year. This was her year. She could do this. She would do this. 
And so Aelin Galathynius pushed her shoulders back and raised her chin as she grabbed her massive tennis bag from the trunk and slung it over her shoulders. The weight was heavy and familiar as she walked through the glass double doors and to the front desk, only to halt in her tracks when she came face to face with a familiar head of silver hair. 
Rowan Whitethorn.
She had quite often mused about how unfair it was that her essential biggest rival was so attractive. It didn’t really make hating him very fair, now did it? But there he stood, green eyes shining and teeth flashing as he snapped something at the young man at the desk. The poor boy looked ready to pee himself and Aelin couldn’t help but release a sharp laugh, causing both Rowan and the blonde next to him to whip around.
Aelin watched as Rowan’s eyes sparked and his mouth curved into a sneer as he took her in from head to toe. She forced herself still and kept her eyes on his face. It was all she could do. Rowan opened his mouth and Aelin prepared her hackles to rise instantly.
“Aelin. Good to see you here.” But it wasn’t Rowan who spoke. No, it was Remelle Frost, her least favorite bottle blonde on the planet that spoke as she curled a possessive hand over Rowan’s bicep. Aelin simply rolled her eyes, never one to beat around the bush. It was common knowledge that the blondes didn’t like each other. And after the Adarlan tournament, Aelin wouldn’t hide her disdain for the girl.
“Wish I could say the same,” she replied dismissively as she shouldered past Rowan and made for the front desk. One charming smile and the boy seemed to handle her much better than Rowan. She gave him her mother’s name, him quickly nodding a confirmation and giving her the court numbers, saying they would be available in just a moment.
She turned around, unsurprised to see Rowan glaring at the back of her head. It had been almost eight years of this rivalry. At least for them. Aelin thought it might’ve been a little ridiculous, considering that it started with her mother and his aunt, but the Doranelle kids just made it so easy to hate them. So easy to want to pound them on and off the court. She wouldn’t apologize for the adrenaline the rivalry provided her with.
Aelin smirked, cocking her hip. “Like what you see?”
“Hardly,” he growled. “Just wondering whether or not you actually came to play this time.” 
Aelin recognized the comment for what it was- a direct jab to the last tournament where she had lost to Remelle. If the comment hadn’t pissed her off so much she would’ve recognized the compliment for what it was. 
“Well, that depends which game you’re talking about, Whitethorn.” Her voice was just teasing enough to annoy him once more, and Aelin’s grin grew. 
“Don’t you have a court to go find?” Remelle cut in from beside Rowan, who had distanced himself from her. Aelin didn’t blame him. She wanted to do the same thing.
“And here I was enjoying our little chat. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, mar sin leat.”
“This isn’t Terrasen,” Remelle hissed. “We say ‘good luck’ here. Gods, you Terrasen kids are pieces of-” 
Someone caught her by the waist as Aelin attempted to throw herself at the girl and she was soon spun around in their arms, coming face to face with her own eyes. Aedion’s were flashing too as his eyes were fixed behind her, no doubt at Rowan. 
“Leave it, Ace, it’s not worth it.” 
“It’s true, princess,” Rowan finally spoke with a sneer. “You’re gonna need those pretty little hands tomorrow. Wouldn’t want you to have an excuse when you get your ass kicked.”  
“Oh, I’ll show you-” 
Aedion dragged her away before she could get another word out, her fists clenched and her teeth bared. She shoved him when he put her down.
“Fucking Doranelle,” Aedion spat under his breath as he shook his head. 
He merely gestured to a figure behind her, causing Aelin to whip around with wide eyes. Shit. Duke Perrington grinned at her through the snake-eyed lens of his camera and gave her a tiny wave as she bared her teeth at him
Perfect. Now it would look like Terrasen had begun a fight before the tournament even began. 
Her mother was going to kill her. 
~~
Aelin felt like the stadium had never been bigger. She had known this year she would be playing where the professionals themselves did, including Maeve and her mother, but never in a million years had it looked so daunting or made her feel so small. 
The tournament had been, well needless to say, easy for Aelin so far. She had breezed through her first few matches, absolutely destroying the poor girls, and her third had been straight sets as well. But now it was the semis. And she would have to face Remelle on center court. It seemed the gods liked playing jokes on Aelin Galathynius. 
She could feel every pair of eyes snap to hers the moment she stepped onto the court but she looked forward. Maybe she was a crowd favorite- but that would do her no favors in the upcoming match. Aelin thought she was going to hurl all over her new shoes and she let the deafening cheering of the audience cover the sound of her pounding heart. 
Remelle walked in not long after she and Aelin met her in the middle of the court, racket in hand. Showtime. 
Aelin might have been paying attention when the coin had been flipped, might have been minimally involved when she called heads or when she won the call and opted to serve first. She might have been only slightly aware of her surroundings as she took a small sip of her water and walked to the back of the court. 
And then it was movement.
It was backward and forwards, side to side, low and high, and it was the same dance Aelin knew better than anything. The same feeling in her feet when she sprinted to the ball and the same stretch of muscles when she reached for a shot. This was who she was- this was the pattern she had lived for ten years. 
But it didn’t seem to matter, not as the score continued to tip less and less in her favor with every passing point. She was playing well- but Remelle was playing better. And there was nothing Aelin could do but survive and ignore the satisfied smirks the other girl would throw her during their side changes. 
Think, Aelin, think. 
Nothing was coming to her head. All she could hear was the pounding adrenaline through her body telling her to play. To cross each bridge when she came to it. There was nothing more she could do than play.
It was then, when Aelin threw herself at a particularly difficult ball, that she felt something shift. And she knew she was screwed. 
Aelin was a tennis player- she had rolled her ankle before. But this was different. It had never hurt this bad. And as the rest of her body came down with her ankle, she thought that it could be it. That it was the end of the match all due to a stupid ankle injury. 
With her heart in her throat, Aelin signaled to the red- headed umpire. 
Injury, she mouthed to her, and the woman- Ansel, it seemed her name was- simply nodded. She was in the massive locker room without a second thought, dragging out a spare bucket of ice held in one of the corners of the room and shoved her foot it. Might as well get it over with.
Aelin winced as the ice on her foot began to take effect and her muscles began to ache, her breathing beginning to lose its consistency. Gods, she hated this. She hated the useless feeling that came over her at the thought of possibly being unable to finish the match. At the thought of all the people, she would be letting down. 
She was tired. Aelin was so, so tired.
Gods, she just needed-
The door to the locker room burst open with a loud and abrupt clang, causing Aelin to jerk forward, spilling water on the ground as she opened her mouth. She was ready to tell them that she needed some privacy before her eyes locked onto a familiar figure that sent her heart pounding for a different reason. 
“Rowan, you can’t be in here!” 
The hulking boy ignored her protests, striding over her in no more than a few steps, both of his hands immediately going to the base of her neck to search her gaze with his own worried one, clearly not caring that he was in the girl’s locker room and would be kicked out of the tournament if he was found. 
“Are you alright?” he insisted, his voice low and hoarse, forest eyes intense.
The gentleness in which he touched her had Aelin sighing and her hands reached up to lightly take hold of his wrists, bringing them down and gathering them in her own hands to hold to her chest. 
She hadn’t meant to fall for Rowan Whitethorn.
But like everything in her life, it had happened quickly and unexpectedly, and Aelin had dealt with it head-on. It had been a year now. An entire year of playing tournaments in each other’s home’s just so they could see each other. Just so no suspicion was be aroused by the tabloids. 
And Aelin hated it. 
All she wanted to do was be able to link her hand through Rowan’s in public without causing a public scandal about a decade-long rivalry. 
“I’m okay, you fussy buzzard,” she teased as she looked at him, pleased to see when the frown on his lips twitched the slightest bit upward. “It was just a little fall. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 
But because he knew her so well, he had heard the uncertainty and fear in her voice as she spoke. So saying nothing, he pulled Aelin to his chest and allowed his arms to wrap around her completely, enveloping her in the scent that she had considered home for months.
And as she breathed him in, she wished home wasn’t always so godsdamned far. 
Rowan let her breathe shakily into his chest, constantly running a soothing hand up and down her back as he hummed a small melody that he often did to get her to sleep over the phone at night. Aelin was the first person to admit it was much better in person.
“You don’t have to do it, Aelin,” he said finally, his movements never ceasing. “You don’t owe them anything.” 
She knew who he was referring to of course, of the people who had come to watch the new ‘upcoming star’ in action and were expecting to see quite the show. They were the people Aelin had been trained to want to impress. 
Aelin pulled back to tilt her chin up and look him in the eyes. 
“I can’t just quit, Rowan. I won’t.”
“You have nothing to prove, Fireheart.” And Aelin almost broke as he used the nickname her father had. “Not to anyone.” 
She shook her head, helplessness seeping through her body more and more as she looked at the boy in front of her. The pain in her ankle was even worse now. Unsurprisingly, he noticed, and his calloused hands moved to her wrists as he lead her back over to the bucket of ice water.
He kneeled down in front of the bench as she sat down and placed her foot in the water, wincing along with her even after she threw a glare at him.
I don’t see you with a foot in ice.
Seeing you in pain is enough to hurt me, his eyes gazed back playfully. Aelin rolled her eyes, quickly shutting them as another shock of pain rushed through her body, making her inhale sharply. 
Her boyfriend frowned once more, clearly upset he could do nothing to help her. So he gathered her hands in his own, bringing them to his face to place a gentle kiss on them, pulling an unwitting smile from Aelin. 
“I love you,” she said quietly. Rowan met her soft gaze for a moment before Aelin leaned forward, capturing his lips with hers in a kiss she hoped said everything she couldn’t. Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. I wish we weren’t a secret. 
“I love you too, Fireheart.” 
She would never get sick of hearing him say that. Of hearing the utter truth in his words. 
Rowan was watching her with that adoring look he reserved only for her, his face open so she could see every emotion playing across his face. It only made her want to kiss him again.
So she did, although this time he met her halfway, taking her chin lightly between two fingers and tilting it up so he could kiss her thoroughly as her hands rested at the base of his neck, lightly twirling the pieces of soft hair she found there.
They sat there for a while, simply kissing, enjoying the feeling of each other’s lips and proximity when it was so few and far between, and Aelin relished in the feeling of loving someone who loved her back. In the feeling of not having to act. 
When she accidentally tugged at a knot in his hair, Rowan pulled away with a painful groan and a nip to her bottom lip, causing Aelin to laugh and push his cheek away with two fingers.
“Sorry, Buzzard,” she laughed as Rowan stood up, with a playful glare. He folded his arms in front of him and it was only then that Aelin remembered she had a foot inside of a bucket of ice. And her medical time out was running out. “Shit. I have to go.” 
Aelin jumped into action, taking her foot out of the ice with a hiss and grabbing a towel as Rowan maneuvered himself around her to find her shoes and socks. Apparently he had understood her message loud and clear about her intentions on forfeiting the match or not- he wasn’t stupid enough to argue with her.
Quickly enough, Aelin was good as new- well, as new as she could be with a half swollen ankle.
“Well,” she dropped her arms to her sides and turned to her boyfriend. “How do I look?”
“Like an idiot who shouldn’t be playing.”
“Or…?” she arched a brow. Rowan sighed and stepped toward her, his hands bracing both of her arms as he leaned forward to press an earnest kiss to her forehead. 
“Or Terrasen’s champion,” he murmured against her skin. 
Aelin grinned, a wicked and feral smile that meant she was ready to raise hell.
“Now that’s more like it.” 
~~
If someone had asked Aelin to regale the crowd with details of her match after she had come out victorious, she would have been unable to do so. Because all she remembered was the pounding of her feet on the ground, and the neon color of the tennis ball, and the feeling of her heart palpitating in her chest. 
Oh, and of course she couldn’t forget the moment after her match- winning shot, when every care and inhibition had left her in one foul swoop. When she had sprinted over to the stands and thrown herself into the arms of the silver- haired enemy, delighting in his deep laughter.. 
And kissed him in the middle of the stadium for all to see.
~~
this prompt was: secret dating 
taglist:
@story-scribbler
@rowaelinismyotp
@live-the-fangirl-life
@claralady
@surielandiareendgame
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yamag00ps · 4 years ago
Text
Tsukishima: 6, You: 5
pairing: tsukishima x reader
genre: friends to lovers, work relationship
contains: fluff
word count: 2.4k
summary: Being friends with Tsukishima Kei was essentially just a competition of who could get the last word.
a/n: this was really fun to write!!!! now where are my bitches who love the i hate everyone but you trope <3<3<3 enjoy :-)
"This idea was yours, you know?"
A voice spoke up behind you as you looked into the updated exhibit. You couldn't quite read his tone. You looked over your shoulder to see Tsukishima Kei standing behind you, playing with the cuffs of his button-up. You turned back to the exhibit before answering.
"Ah. You see, I was starting to think I just manifested it into existence."
"Yeah, I kept hearing this nagging voice in the back of my head for the past two weeks. Funny, you sound just like it."
The offended look on your face disappeared as he walked up next to you with a small smile on his face.
A month ago, you started your new job as a new tour guide at the local history museum. Tsukishima was one of the exhibit designers. Although you were only a tour guide, you were always vocal about your opinions on the displays and layouts of the different exhibits to your co-workers, hoping to work your way up to his position. Tsukishima would overhear these conversations and initially be irritated until he realized that your critiques were actually quite useful. You began to notice your own suggestions coming to life in the exhibits. On this particularly slow day at the museum, Tsukishima surprisingly sparked a conversation with you first.
"Tsukishima Kei. Exhibit designer." He held a hand out to you with a glint in his eyes. You bit back a smile and shook his hand.
"L/N, F/N. Tour guide. Future exhibit designer." His eyebrows raised in amusement.
Tsukishima Kei: 0, You: 1
This was only the start of your unique friendship with Tsukishima Kei.
The next six months consisted of many exchanges of ideas, lingering gazes across exhibits, late nights at the museum, and constant banter. It was always a competition of who could get the last word.
Despite your love-hate relationship, you were very supportive of one another. Tsukishima would honestly ask for your input when drafting layouts and frequently joined visitors on your tours. During the tours, he pretended to hate whenever you would call him out in the crowd for designing a certain exhibit (he would never tell you, but he appreciated it every time).
"This particular exhibit was actually designed by that tall, handsome man in the back, Mr. Tsukishima Kei! If you have any questions I'm sure he'd love to answer them." You winked at him every time.
Tsukishima Kei: 0, You: 2
He stated that he only joined your tours because he wanted to hear what visitors had to say about his work, which was partly true. But, even more than that, he enjoyed adored watching you in action. He found your passion and enthusiasm endearing and calming, especially on stressful days. The two of you grew close as you worked—always taking breaks at the same time and staying after to leave together. Despite the teasing and the banter, both of you cherished this unique friendship dearly.
As the time passed, it seemed that your hard work and ideas did not go unnoticed, as you were finally offered an exhibit designer position! The director called you in early that morning to meet with you and formally offer you the promotion. As you walked out of her office, your hands were already fumbling to call the only person that came to mind.
"Hello?"
“Morning! You’re late.”
“My train was delayed. Wait, don’t you have the night shift?”  
"I, uh, lost my tour guide position.” Tsukishima stopped in his tracks.
“..What?”
“Yeah, kinda bummed. I was pretty good at it, don’t you think?”
He couldn’t understand your tone. He wouldn’t admit it, but he hoped you’d be at least a little more upset that you wouldn’t be working together anymore.
“Y-yeah. Wait. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Time for me to move on to better things, you know?” Ouch.
“But-”
“Hey, Kei? Exhibit designer to exhibit designer, are we supposed to be rivals now?" He could practically hear the smile on your face.
Tsukishima Kei: 0, You: 3
At that exact moment, Tsukishima walked through the entrance of the building. Your eyes met and he hoped you didn’t notice the wave of relief washing over him.
“You’re an idiot,” he stood at the entrance, still talking to you on the phone.
“I believe the correct term is exhibit designer,” you mused.
"Oh god, no.." he groaned, slowly walking up to you with a smirk on his face. “Oh, yes,” you fired back. Unable to contain your excitement any longer, you hung up the phone and ran to him, stopping in front of him abruptly. He cocked a brow, waiting for you to explain as you held your hands behind your back.
"Sooooo.. I guess the director liked my ideas and..um, you know. Thought I’d be a fantastic fit or something," you shrugged nonchalantly, "You know, no biggie, it's whatever." Your efforts to hide the giddy smile on your face were useless. His smile mirrored yours, growing bigger and bigger with every word you spoke. You raised your eyebrows, awaiting his reaction.
He shook his head and marveled at you. I always want to see you this happy, he thought.
Tsukishima Kei: 0, You: 4
He stayed silent, wanting to see how long it would take for you to start pouting. He lived to drag reactions out of you. But this time, the look on his face ratted him out. His eyes softened as he took you in. Ever since the day you met, he found that this happened often. The walls he built to shut people out were no match for the sound of your voice, the feel of your head on his shoulder, or the endearing smile on your face whenever your eyes met his from across the room. He was putty in your hands and you didn’t even know it.
"Well?" You poked his chest, becoming impatient. He chuckled and grabbed your hands, pulling you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he buried you into his chest.
"You loser. You're amazing,” he sighed and rested his chin on the top of your head. “I mean, I’m not surprised. But I'm really proud of you.” He paused. “But don’t scare me like that,” he mumbled. Your heart warmed at his sincerity.
"Aw, Kei, you're hugging me,” you cooed and held him tighter. You tried to move back to look up at him only for him to push your head back into his chest.
"Yeah, I just don't want to see your face when I'm saying nice things to you.”
"Tsk," you swatted at his arm but snuggled into him anyway. “You know what? I’ll take it. Thank you, Kei.” He kept an arm hooked around you and used his free hand to lightly flick the top of your head.
"Alright, get to work you two! Y/N, congrats on the promotion." The museum director passed by, giving both of you a knowing smile. You quickly stepped away from each other as you thanked her with a pink tint on your cheeks. You began to turn away from Tsukishima until he grabbed your hand.
"We're getting dinner later."
"Oh, we don't have t—"
"I want to. Now, come on. Can't have my co-exhibit designer slacking off on their first day," his tone attempted to be stern as he pulled you towards the staff room.
"You really are so sweet," you teased but happily followed anyway.
"Shut up."
Tsukishima Kei: 0, You: 5
Now, you were sitting across the same man you love to hate at your favorite restaurant.
"I have an idea." The dumb smirk you've grown to love appeared on Tsukishima's face. You loved when he was like this. His playful demeanor was a stark contrast to his usual stoic expression. You had the two glasses of wine to thank for that.
You raised an eyebrow telling him to go on.
"I think this celebration calls for some free dessert," he leaned in to tell you this as if he was letting you in on a secret.
"What do you mean free?"
He grabbed your hand resting on the table.
"I'm going to borrow this." He started pulling off one of your rings.
"Wh—"
"Shhh, just go with it." Keeping your hand in his, he moved off of his seat and knelt down in front of you. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets as you started whisper yelling at him to get up. This worked to his advantage as your shock only made it look more real.
"Oh my god. Kei, no," you tried to say sternly as you leaned down to him, but the alcohol in your system threw you into a fit of nervous giggles. You looked around the restaurant in a panic, hiding your face in your hands until he pulled one down and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
The pure amusement on his face contrasted with the sincere look in his eyes. The blush on your face boosted his ego more than he cared to admit.
You attempted to scold him again. “Tsukishima Kei, if you don’t get up right n—“
To your dismay, your waitress came over to your table and gasped at the scene unfolding in front of her. One by one, everyone’s attention turned to the blonde-haired man down on one knee. Tsukishima dropped his head and laughed, trying to hide the blush on his face. He cursed under his breath. Fuck. Suddenly the alcohol was wearing off. What has he done?
You lifted his chin up with your free hand, forcing him to look up at you again.
“You better put on a show for them,” you challenged him, knowing he hated this kind of attention. He noted the proximity between your faces and the way you squeezed his hand as a form of reassurance. The sparkle in your eyes was all it took for him to collect himself again. The people near you began shushing everyone else around them.
Well. Now or never, he thought. This will be easy.
He took a deep breath as you looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to chicken out.
“L/N, F/N. I fell for you the moment we met.”
Oh.
Tsukishima Kei: 1, You: 5
Your heart clenched at his words, but you quickly shook the feeling. This was just for a free dessert, right?
“Oh, really now?” You thought back to that moment and snickered under your breath, only for him to hear. He squeezed your hand, silently telling you to shut up. This only made you giggle more.
“You are my light. My life only works with you in it,” he announced.
Your breath hitched. Now that shut you up.
Tsukishima Kei: 2, You: 5
“I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me."
Tsukishima Kei: 3, You: 5
“I love you. Your wit, your humor, your passion, your drive.. your kindness. All of it.”
Tsukishima Kei: 4, You: 5
“That’s enough,” you whispered and started shaking your head. You knew this was just for show, but why did hearing his words set a fire in you? Why was your heart aching?
“I fall in love with you more and more everyday. I’ll fall harder tomorrow and even harder the day after that. Please give me all of your tomorrows. Please marry me.”
Damn, he was good.
Tsukishima Kei: 5, You: 5
Your eyes began to water. Where was this coming from? Is he actually that good of an actor? Your expression was a mixture of confusion, shock, and a hint of irritation. Unable to comprehend any of your feelings, you shook your head and remembered that you had to play along for that goddamn dessert.
“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes!” you nodded, trying not to look too enthusiastic about this fake proposal. Everyone around you erupted into cheers, the flash of numerous phones and cameras blinding you. Tsukishima put the ring on your finger and chuckled as he stood up and pulled you in for a hug, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You laughed into his chest at the insanity of it all.
“I’m sorry if that was t—“ Whatever he was saying was cut short by the crowd around you.
“Oh come on, give her a real kiss!” “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” “Kiss her!”
You groaned and felt his laughter erupt through his chest. Pulling back to look at him, you shook your head in disbelief. He lightly held onto your waist and pulled you close, his forehead resting onto yours.
“We really don’t have to, not if it makes you uncomfortable,” he assured you.
“Pft, you’re not the only one who can put on a show,” you quipped. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the alcohol—whatever it was, you surrendered to it as you pulled him down by his collar and crashed your lips into his. You tasted the wine on his lips, savoring every second in case you would never get the opportunity again. After a few seconds, you began to pull away only for him to attach his lips onto yours again. One of his hands cupped your face while the other gripped your waist, not wanting you to pull away just yet. You matched his fervor, losing yourself in him.
The cheers in the restaurant quickly brought you back down to earth as you pulled away and hid your face in his chest again. He chuckled and rubbed the sides of your arms, soothing you. You pulled back to look at him with a small smile on your face.
“So you do know how to be nice to me,” you gushed, breaking the tension.
“I am nice to you!” He scoffed.
“Yeah but not that nice,” you teased, pulling him down to you again. Tsukishima shook his head and left a kiss on your cheek.
“You kissed me first,” he reminded you, mumbling against your cheek.
“Hm.. Guess you’ll just have to kiss me first next time,” you gave him a quick peck. Before he could pull you in again, your waitress arrived with two pieces of chocolate cake with the words Congrats! drizzled on the plate next to a heart. You pulled away from him to thank the waitress and the people around you, allowing them to go back to their meals. He pulled your chair out for you, ignoring the smug look on your face.
Before taking his seat, he leaned down and murmured against your ear, “There better be a next time,” leaving you a blushing mess.
“Next time” ended up being an hour later against the front door of your apartment. From then on, there were a lot of “next times.”
Tsukishima Kei: 6, You: 5
----------------------------------------
a/n: wait and then in the future after you two actually get married, you end up have two “wedding” anniversaries hehe and he always makes sure to celebrate both but he’ll never admit that he highkey loves celebrating the fake one more than the real one because it was such a sweet memory :p AW tsukki
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katsukithme · 4 years ago
Text
First Aid
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Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader
Summary: Your pro hero boyfriend is annoyingly opposed to first aid, and you have to get a little persuasive.
Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, lil bit spicy!! Not smut but like I’m easing into it. Mentions of injury.
Word count: about 1.9k :)
A/N: idek what this is man I am just h word on main for angry blonde firecracker man
**Character is aged up to at least 20**
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You've about had it with this man. This absolute stubborn child of a man. If his bottom lip weren't already split, right now you'd be very highly considering doing it yourself.
You both were crowded into your small bathroom in your apartment, first aid supplies strewn across what little counter space you had, a few knocked onto the tile floor. You'd learned very early on in your relationship that keeping a first aid kit on deck was essential to dating Katsuki Bakugou. If only the bastard would sit still so you could actually use it.
It was a feat in and of itself that you managed to get him in here for the first aid in the first place. It was like luring a cat into the bathroom right before a bath. He knew what was coming... and it took bribery of course. But he was here, hips leaning against the edge of the sink, arms crossed over his bare chest as he faces you. You were standing in front of him (conveniently between him and the door), antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, desperately trying to clean the cuts that littered his skin.
"Katsuki, come on! Quit moving around!" You say sternly, trying once again to dab the cloth over the wide gash that reached from his collarbone to his shoulder. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but it looked pretty gnarly. And you'd be damned if you didn't at least disinfect it.
"I told you, I don't need first aid! I'm not even hurt." He retorts, indignantly avoiding every move you make towards him. Finally you throw down the bandage with a loud groan.
"We do this every time! How many times do I have to tell you? If you don't clean them they could get infected!" You demand, hands on your hips.
"Tch. As if I'd ever let something like that happen to me." He was operating with one singular braincell, you were sure of it. And the braincell was sitting in the 'stubborn asshole' part of Katsuki's brain.
"You- it's not... Jesus christ. It's not something you let happen! It'll only take a minute to clean them up, I promise."
He doesn't seem the least bit convinced, brows drawn together in such a deep scowl. It was exactly the sort of face a mother would scold you for, saying it'd get stuck that way.
Sometimes for him, you really thought it did.
"You said it'd take just a minute last time. And it absolutely fuckin' did not." He gripes and you throw your hands up in exasperation. It was like talking to a brick wall.
"Because you kept moving!" He rolls his eyes and stands up from the counter, pushing past you gently to go towards the door.
"Whatever. I don't need first aid." He growls out. Your hands ball into fists and your face sets into a hard expression. You'd had enough... no more good cop.
Before he turns the door handle you say just one more thing- and it stops him dead in his tracks.
"Bakugou Katsuki, if you don't come over here and sit your ass down so I can treat your wounds, so help me god I won't fuck you for a month."
He freezes, hand still holding the doorknob. He turns slowly to look at you over his shoulder, expecting to find any sort of lie, a trace of a fracturing exterior so he knew you didn't mean it. Instead, all he was met with was a stone cold glare.
He scoffs. "You're bluffing." He tries, and your arms cross over your chest.
"Try me. Go ahead, leave the bathroom. Get used to fucking your hand, it'll be the only action you see."
He was tempted of course to just leave. The odds of you bluffing were pretty high... he wasn't stupid, he knew it was just as much of a punishment for you as it would be for him. But the look in your eyes– it was threatening. Kind of hot, but he'd keep that to himself. The threat of an agonizing dry spell was too risky for him to point that out.
"Fuck. Fine..." he relents. And he takes his hand slowly off the doorknob.
You smirk triumphantly as he trudged slowly back into the bathroom, scowl still set into his face with no signs of leaving any time soon. You take a few steps back, however many the right space would allow so you could direct him. As much as he despised it, your threat had him wrapped around your little finger. More than usual.
You jut out your chin once towards the toilet, which had the lid closed. "Sit, asshole. Lemme fix you up." You say, tone firm but just a little soft around the edges as he finally starts to do as you say.
He plops himself down on the seat with a grumble under his breath, something along the lines of 'this is cruel and unusual punishment, but he sits nonetheless. And he was almost pouting with that expression on his face. It was cute... even if he was acting like an child. You decide to make the ordeal a little sweeter for the man, even if he was being unruly. With antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, you give a soft push to his chest so he'd sit back and make space for you.
It was a cramped sort of space, not super ideal for his comfort or yours. But he always had space for you. He cocks a brow curiously as you move him, but says nothing when he realizes you're going to take a seat. How could he say no? Even he'd admit, he liked having you so close. Even if you're tending to injuries that really weren't that bad.
You straddle his thighs as settle in on his lap, shifting just a little to get comfortable. His hands immediately find your hips, keeping you nice and close. Once he seemed contented enough, you get to work cleaning him up.
It's quiet in the bathroom as you tend to the wounds, the only sounds being that of your first aid ministrations and your mingled breathing. He watches you intently, taking in every little mannerism and facial expression, hands tracing absentminded circles into your hips. His fingertips were barely beneath the hem of your shirt, seeking out the warmth of your bare skin to keep him entertained while you treat his minor injuries.
Finally once most of the scratches and such were taken care of, you turn to the cut on his lip, eyes meeting that intense vermillion gaze. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but you knew it was much more than that.
Katsuki wasn't really a man of words. He didn't express his undying love every five minutes, and you didn't expect him to. Instead he showed it in actions, in unspoken words found shining in his eyes. In a small quirk of his lips when you laugh, or an affectionate eye roll when you do something dumb. Showed it in the way he kissed you. In the way he'd lay you down and give it to you nice and good, just the way you liked.
You lightly dab at the wound on his lip, being careful not to hurt him since it was still pretty fresh. He doesn't seem even slightly fazed.
"Gotta be more careful, and lemme do this for you. Can't have you getting more hurt because you're bein' stubborn." You mumble, averting your eyes from that deep stare to eye the plush of his split bottom lip while you cleaned him up. If you made eye contact any longer, he'd have the satisfaction of making you blush.
He grunts softly, pulling you a little closer on his lap. "I was gonna let you." He mumbles, and it makes you roll your eyes. And his lips quirk up just a bit.
"You were not. You were gonna walk right out that door if I didn't threaten to take away sex." You mumble, and one of his hands starts to trace up your spine, effectively arching you against his chest.
"Maybe. But if I hadn't, you wouldn't be on my lap, would you?" He snarks, but his voice is all soft. You put your first aid supplies down on the counter and turn your eyes back to his once again, and he was grinning. He almost looked smug.
"Ah, shut up. Didn't have to sit here. Did it for you." He snorts in response, strong arms wrapping firmly around your waist.
"Sure you were." He was sarcastic, but his tone was still fond. "You like bein' this close just as much as I do, ass." You wrinkle your nose at him and push at his chest in retaliation, but it only makes him draw you in closer.
"You're the ass. Wouldn't sit still, wouldn't shut up till I said I wouldn't fuck you. Think with your dick, huh?" You tease, and his lips raise in a half playful snarl. Large palms slide over your hips to grab handfuls of your ass, keeping you right up against him.
"Shut the fuck up. You like when I think with my dick. Gets you all hot for me." He mumbles, lips barely brushing yours when he leans in close. You could feel the heat in your cheeks at the comment, spreading to the tips of your ears. He always did know just what to say to get you wrapped around his finger.
"What," he continues, dragging your hips forward against his own and you choke back a gasp. "Suddenly you're all quiet? Bet t's'cause I'm right. But I dunno, maybe I'm just thinking with my dick." You have to struggle not to whine as his hands guide you back and forth across his lap, and by god the friction was going to kill you. Your hands clutch to hard muscled shoulders, aching to gain back some semblance of self control.
But it was hard to keep sane around Katsuki. Damn near impossible.
"Fuck... you..." you breathe, trying to give him a glare but it comes off a little more wanton than you intended. His teeth graze your bottom lip, biting it gently and tugging outward before letting it back into place. His hips cant upwards, rolling into yours as he keeps you rooted firmly in place, and it tears a moan from your lips.
"Yeah? You wanna?" His voice has dipped down dangerously low in his throat, rumbling through his chest and sleeping into your bones. Between the movement of his hips and his mouthing along your jaw you felt as if you were going to combust.
"You're gonna be the death of me..." You can feel that damn shit eating grin against your jaw, and when your eyes meet deep vermillion you know you're a goner. He had you, hook line and sinker.
"Complain all you want, but you're whipped for me," he mumbles, one hand leaving the plush of your ass to cup the back of your neck, dragging you into a kind of kiss that made your toes curl, your knees shake. Hot and heavy, tongue and teeth.
Yeah, you were pretty whipped for Katsuki Bakugou... but he was just as whipped for you.
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phoenixtakaramono · 4 years ago
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Character Design Thoughts for Shen Yuan & Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky in ‘The Untold Tale’
(This is a Follow Up to This Post)
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Hello, @averydrearydiana! Loved reading through your tags! I’m excited that you’re excited! Since I’m also seeing comments on AO3 speculating about how our transmigrators are going to appear as in The Untold Tale, I might as well give my current thoughts and have this archived on tumblr for future reference.
A fun fact about TUT is that a lot of the imagery in the story is inspired by Chinese PVs and popular C-dramas and literature. Since TUT is conceived as a lovestory to SVSSS, one element that I’d wanted to incorporate is playful attempts at satirical genre deconstruction. With that comes with me playfully poking fun at some clichés or things I’ve noticed in Chinese works.
Shen Yuan’s Celestial Design
Before I talk about his mortal appearance, I have to give a lil context about his celestial design in the story. We already know what he looks like as the celestial fortuneteller in TUT’s cover art that I’ve already posted on tumblr. As everyone knows, I was heavily inspired by this Chinese PV:
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(TUT ch1 - Excerpt)
Among the things I’ve noticed are the fictional characters with white hair. We have a whole subculture of fans liking male character designs with white hair in anime and animation. Taking that a step further, they’ve even shown up in C-dramas, i.e. Teng She from Love and Redemption (technically more blond than platinum white, but shhhhh, just let me have this), Dong Hua Dijun from Eternal Love of Dream aka Three Lives Three Worlds, Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms (rest assured, I’m aware of the source material’s controversy, but let’s not get into that here), etc. One of the tags for TUT is Opposites Attract. Luo Binghe’s color coordination is aligned with black and red mostly. Now, visually speaking, what’s the opposite of that?
The yin yang symbol.
Fun fact, besides black vs white, green (SY) is the complementary color of red (LBG) on the color wheel. Now taking everything I’ve said, to take it even one step further, my thought process at the time was, “why not go the extra mile then and just have SY be albino? Within context of the Heavenly Realm, that character design makes sense.” TUT is me subtly riffing off what I can (for the good ol’ meta humor), but making the content come across as a legitimate story experience. As Protagonist A and Protagonist B, LBG and SY have to look visually striking together. With all that said, let’s talk about....
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(In reference to the original tumblr post)
Shen Yuan (Mortal)
I’ll keep some elements of his albinism from his celestial form (light sensitivity and pale skin mostly), but SY’s mortal form is essentially SY pre-transmigration but within context of the xianxia genre.
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For his appearance, let’s just keep this Author’s Note^ and TUT’s summary in the back of our brains. This is the fanvid I was originally inspired by for SY’s mortal appearance:
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(TUT Summary - Excerpt)
For what he wears, I’m currently feeling very heavily inspired by this PV:
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His mortal appearance wouldn’t be considered as “strange” or “otherworldly” compared to the “ethereal fairy-like beauty” SY retains in the Heavenly Realm, but as a side-effect of the 【PROTAGONIST’S HALO】 and his +20 CHARISMA stat, he would still be considered attractive to people even when he takes on a mortal appearance. (Mainly, I like the idea of Bing gē taking large shots of vinegar seeing SY turning heads no matter which appearance SY takes on, and Luo Binghe glaring at these “insects” for even “daring to lay their unworthy eyes on his fated person.” The thought of it just makes me laugh.)
What I mean by how SY’s mortal form being very much based on how SY appeared pre-transmigration but in the xianxia genre context, I mean he’ll have his dark hair (but longer), a “scholarly air” (as a nod to his novelist background), dark eyes, and even his glasses technically (the divine monocle mentioned in ch3, which is also a subtle nod to Sha Po Lang and a riff on men wearing monocles in other Chinese works andit’salsoforeshadowingbutshhhh).
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(TUT ch3 - Excerpt)
Shen Yuan originally was an author in his forties pre-transmigration, so I like the idea him having a mature air about him in the Cultivation World as well. So for both our Protagonist B’s celestial and mortal appearances, the idea is that you can look at him and immediately recognize him as a protagonist of the danmei setting. My only two prerequisites are that his appearance screams “hello, I’m Protagonist B” and that he appears in “scholarly” attire.
Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky (Mortal)
Keeping in mind the original tumblr post where I wrote my thoughts on who I’m transmigrating him as, currently I’m thinking it’s a combination of these two PVs for his mortal form:
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As a nod to him being a successful novelist, I wanted him to also appear scholarly. A scholarly crown prince, if you will. For his attire, imagine all the C-drama clothing you’ve seen actors wear in period dramas, and you already have a good idea already of the direction I’m heading down.
As the prince of the cannon fodder emperor, I very much like the idea of Airplane perhaps having a baby face and brown hair (as a small nod to fanon!SQH from SVSSS) but with a great body (a huge source of inspiration are clothing worn by Prince Yu and Prince Jing of the three princes from the C-drama Nirvana in Fire). Since Airplane will also be able to select his Character Creation stats like Shen Yuan had, one thing I’m fairly certain is that he will max out his CONSTITUTION—because “game logic” and not wanting to die. (For those who don’t know, the CON stat in tabletop RPs essentially indicates a person’s overall health, wellbeing, and vigor checks...so him maxing it out is equivalent to him being as invulnerable as a cockroach. A high CON means overall healthiness, which means your character probably is full of energy and vitality, can heal rapidly, and will rarely get sick—if ever. Low CON usually means a higher susceptibility to sickness and disease, wounds that fester and linger, and a general fatigue would haunt you, etc.) Like how SY zeroed in on his CHA, Airplane would have prioritized +20 CON (+5 modifier), especially knowing the fate that’d await him as a prince and the vicious environment that is expected for palace intrigue plots (the harem is a big factor, with concubines and consorts and even the empress sabotaging each other—just to win the favor of one man). Against poison or whatnot which is a cliché in palace intrigue plots, rather than relying on luck, you typically stand a better chance of passing the CON check if you have a high modifier aiding your checks. He’s basically become impervious to illnesses, most poisons (probably being able to spring back quickly), and is considered the healthiest prince in all the mortal imperial line. <- This could be taken both seriously and humorously simultaneously.
Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky (Deity/ Celestial)
For Xiàng Tiān Dà Fēijī’s “actual divine body” that is currently asleep and won’t be awakened until Airplane completes his mortal trial to “regain his cultivation powers,” the face should obviously be similar but, as Xiàng Tiān Dà Fēijī, he would appear regal and dignified as a god of this world:
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Imagine something along the lines of mortal Airplane as the man on the right, celestial Shen Yuan in the center, and deity/ celestial Airplane as the man on the left. I envision a respectable appearance that would knock the air out of Mobei jūn and make him recognize Airplane despite any visual dissimilarities, and in a way we have the Four Beauties of China: Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan, Mobei jūn, and Xiàng Tiān Dà Fēijī.
I will say I currently have an idea of making Airplane have “golden” eyes in both his celestial and mortal forms. (Spoiler alert: in my notes, I’d written down to give Airplane yellow eyes as an Easter egg to Yanxi Palace, I believe, where there was an episode where someone of the imperial harem schemed against the empress and almost had the newborn baby killed because that and the yellow skin was an inauspicious omen. We later find out through a timely intervention that the true reason was due to jaundice—because of the diet/ pregnancy cravings she ate for a period of time which resulted in her son’s symptoms. With Airplane’s high CON and another trope I’m bringing in which’ll have to do with the Medicine King’s Valley/ Valley of the Medicine King, his yellow eyes are the only side effect that lingered from that traumatic event which would have killed him had they gotten away with their scheme. A lot of palace dramas have to do with the vicious harem plots, so this would potentially be one such example.) The reason being that this is the identifying marker for MBJ to clue in that they’re the same man he will have loved. And I think that has romantic potential.
Misc.
Now addressing the other tags, yes, essentially speaking, Mobei jūn might just very well experience his very own Big Damn Reunion trope that Bing mèi had suffered from SVSSS. Poor MBJ. He’s in a tumultuous ride of his own with him considering Airplane as his own fated person, hahaha. But for the Moshang dynamic, I want him—a demon—to find himself taken with Airplane in his mortal guise—and subsequently his true celestial appearance once he finds out. I very much also want SY to jokingly snark to his fellow transmigrator-and-writing-colleague about him getting in a relationship with his own “creation” (MBJ). And Airplane would jokingly snark back about SY “ruining his ‘first son’ as well” (LBG). If you can read between the lines of that, then kudos. I’m glad to hear you’re looking forward to the palace intrigue.
I’m especially very happy to hear you’re looking forward to the descriptions! I personally love worldbuilding in the stories I consume I’m an interior designer and realtor irl, so I’m glad my love of house details and landscape, etc shows in TUT. For the pseudohistorical vibe, in the Mortal Realm, I will be referencing the Forbidden City of our Chinese history and a couple popular period C-dramas. Take the settings of period C-dramas like Ruyi’s Royal Love in the Palace, Yanxi Palace, and Nirvana in Fire as examples for what will be awaiting us when we finally meet Airplane in his mortal body. In the Heavenly Realm, the descriptions will be heavily referencing shows that contain aesthetics such as those of Ashes of Love, Love and Redemption, and Eternal Dream.
Take this with a grain of salt just in case I change my mind later on, but in the chapter when we meet Airplane for the first time, I probably won’t say which character he is in the first scene. I’ll give plenty of hints in the first scene so that you all can make your guesses before the big reveal, but I’m fairly confident you all or most of you will be able to pinpoint who he is among the cannon fodders. We’ll meet the emperor, who is discussing with his sons about the matter regarding the approaching calamity that is Luo Binghe. Then when we transition into the second scene, we’ll know exactly which “royal prince OC” it is that our beloved Airplane has transmigrated into, hahaha.
(*Keep in mind, for everything written above, some details are subject to change. Nothing is official until it appears in the story, or I’ve actually drawn my ideas out and posted online to both my tumblr and twitter. These are just my current thoughts.)
A goal of mine for TUT is to make the story widely accessible, meaning it doesn’t matter if the reader is new to the SVSSS fandom or aren’t familiar with the Easter egg references or meta jokes or subtext or even the Chinese culture, or even if English is not their first language. Having knowledge beforehand might help someone notice more hidden details in TUT, yes, but it is a humble wish of this writer for her esteemed readers to be able to dive into the story and get the enjoyable feeling like they’re reading a genuine danmei novel. It really makes me smile whenever I hear feedback that I am able to emulate that experience.
Very exciting developments indeed are in store!
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