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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

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Begone

Streamer Gang & Asexual Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Acephobia, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having recently come out as asexual, Y/N faces some less than pleasant or appropriate responses in their chat during their stream with the gang. Luckily, they’re not alone in battling the haters this time.

Requested by the lovely Anon who told acephobes to begone, yeah you know who you are hehe. Thank you so much for the request darling! Let’s show these acehobes who they’re messing with! Love, Vy ❤

Boy is this nerve-wrecking or what? Sure, I maybe woke up with a ton of confidence, I listened to motivational and uplifting talks and listened to mood boosting music. I had a healthy breakfast and a cup of coffee. Damn it, I went on a run, all in an attempt to convince myself that dealing with the online world again is but a piece of cake for a badass like me. Well, low and behold, that feeling didn’t last very long. Here I am, chewing my nails off at the though of hopping in the Discord call and Among Us lobby with my friends and starting my stream. It’s not like I’m not expecting my friends and fans to support me - of course I am! I know they’re gonna give me a ton of love and appreciation and support and uplift me no matter what. But then again, there’s still those people who believe me and other people like me to be invalid and broken and whatnot.

Those are the ones I wanna avoid.

It’s not like their words mean much to me but I simply don’t wanna see em, you know? It’s not only about me - it’s least about me actually - it’s more about all those wonderful people they are insulting when they say shit like that about asexuals and all the people on the ace spectrum. I can’t help but flare up and get angry on the behalf of all my ace friends and even people I’ve never met.

It’s also my first time being directly thrown into the fire instead of getting caught in the crossfire seeing as how I came out to my fandom via a tweet and an Instagram post a week ago, telling my identity’s truth: finally bringing my asexuality to the surface to shine its brightest so I can be be my best and reach for my full potential.

But damn am I afraid to see how everyone took it.

My friends were quick to jump in and take me offline before I start refreshing my own posts to see the comments under them. Lord knows that without them I would’ve driven myself insane, I’ll forever be grateful for what they did and the lengths they went to to keep me offline and whatnot. One word to give you an idea of how invested they were in this: origami. All of us might as well have been born with two left hands and yet we still tried doing origami. Freaking origami.

Damn do I love my friends.

But now I don’t have sheets of paper and my friends to distract me. I have a fanbase to entertain and another friend group I haven’t talked to in a while. I don’t wanna get any predictions in already so I don’t jinx myself, so I’m just gonna say it’s gonna be...interesting regardless of what happens.

Then again, when is it not interesting when the streamer gang’s involved.

Deep breaths, Y/N. You got this

Listening to that encouraging little voice inside my head, I finally equip my headphones and in one fluid motion turn my camera on, officially starting my stream and unmuting my mic as I hop in the call with everyone.

“Hi guys! Guess who’s returned!“ I exclaim cheerfully, desperate to hide the nervousness of my voice.

“You really missed your opportunity to say ‘guess who’s back...back again’ didn’t you?“ Charlie is the one who greets me first, sounding rather disappointed in me in his usual jokester manner. It’s nice to hear, it makes me feel like nothing’s changed in the week I’ve been gone. Like I’m still the same person to these people. I really am the same, I just now am a lot better version of myself. Almost as though I’ve reached my final form. It feels empowering really. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Charlie laughs again, “Congrats, by the way. You keep proving you can get cooler and cooler.“

“Careful there Charlie, I can only handle so large of an ego.“ I joke back, rolling my eyes playfully as a wide grin spreads across my face, “No, but seriously, thank you so much, man. It means the world to me that you support me.“

“Um, how could we NOT?“ That’s very clearly Rae, “Hun, you are so brave and amazing and wonderful, how could we ever NOT support you?“

“Yeah, we’ll always support you no matter what, Y/N. We’ll always be your friends, through thick, thin and beyond.“ Poki too interferes, her words only making my smile wider.

“Alright, alright, y’all are gonna make me cry and I haven’t even read my chat yet, hold on.“ I say, fanning my face to dry the tears I hope the webcam isn’t spotting, “Darn, you guys are the best. Sorry, give me a sec to gather my composure, I’ll be right back.“

I quickly mute my in-game mic as I turn to my chat where I see the same amount of love and support in the form of comments and emojis flooding in from my viewers. A warm feeling spreads throughout my chest, making me feel the most comfortable with myself I’ve ever felt. The most loved I’ve ever felt. The most seen and understood. To finally be you feels like you are finally really living in this world, not like you’ve been already living in it for God knows how long. It makes me so freaking happy and fulfilled to finally be living as me, as the real me.

Unfortunately, in life, nothing can be 100% pure and good. There’s always at least 1% there threatening to ruin all your happiness you worked so hard to build or obtain. It may be one in a hundred, but fuck it’s powerful and effective.

And in my case it comes in the form of two comments that stick out to my eyes. Acephobic comments saying my identity’s fake, claiming I’m faking it, saying us acephobes are immature creatures who refuse to grow up, or attention whores. Or just saying we’re delusional and in denial, confused about who we are.

I hadn’t even realized I was clenching my jaw and fists but when I do, I slowly relax my muscles and crack my knuckles before addressing the two people who spat out that nonsense.

“Ok, listen here, shooterpro69 and yourmom_lol. For starters, I want to apologize for your ignorance and lack of education on the matter of asexuality. In fact, for you especially, I plan on making an educational video, explaining asexuality to people who need or want to learn more. You, my friends, are in desperate need to be fed some knowledge cause damn, God knows how many people secretly think you’re hella stupid. Not that they’re wrong to think so but anyway. Unless you have anything nice or positive to say, begone from my chat. Actually, when I think about it, begone from every chat. No one needs you polluting their communities with acephobia and hate.“ I say, all spoken in a calm tone despite the boiling anger within me. People who know me well would probably be able to tell I’m fuming underneath the calm façade, but at least I got my message across loud and clear.

“WOO HOO, You tell em Y/N!“ Toast cheers, clapping his hands and whistling as more cheering arises from each my friends, leaving me in a state of mild shock and confusion.

Wait, what?!

“Um, wait, you guys heard that?“ I ask, my eyes darting to thein-game mic symbol that shows an not crossed-off mic, meaning it was enabled during the entirety of my speech.

“Hell yeah we did! You slayed them, Y/N! Damn goddamn!“ Rae whistles too, her enthusiasm wafting over me like a breath of fresh air.

“I second that!“ Corpse joins in, “And remember what we said - we’ll support you through anything. Need to bury an acephobe’s body, we’re the people you should call.” He says, confident as heck.

And I just can’t hold it in anymore - I burst out laughing, doubling over from the intensity.

If I thought I was happy and fulfilled before, this has to be the closest to paradise I’m gonna get on Earth. All thanks to these wonderful people. Friends are really something else aren’t they: they come into your life - often unexpectedly - and change it completely. Suddenly you’re not alone, you’re not forced to deal with everything and face everything on your own. Someone’s got your back and you’ve got theirs.

Through thick, thin and beyond.

And it’s so fucking amazing.

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jiminrings · 4 years ago

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would you (III)

pairing: jimin x y/n

wordcount: 6k

And when you look at him with the same hint of bleariness in your eyes, and his shoulder feels the brunt of your tentative squeeze and sees the lightest of smiles on your lips —

Jimin knows everything that he needs to know.

or the one in which love isn’t one-sided anymore, jimin realizes his feelings, and yearning for you is what keeps him awake.

would you by pink sweats

part one | part two | part three

Both oddly yet unsurprisingly, Jungkook’s become a constant in your life.

For starters, both of you were lonely and needed someone, even if it’s by the sidelines. The equivalent of white noise and an extra pillow to put by your side so you’d feel surrounded.

Funnily enough, Jungkook’s as good as a mainstay in your life as you are with him, providing company and warmth with no question. It’s as if he’s always been your friend and you never met each other in such desperate measures.

Given that, sure, maybe you and Jungkook don’t fuck each other as often and it’s only occasional now at this point, but the conversation stays and lasts. It’s the routine of him pounding into you as he talks shit about the pressure he feels fron rival companies that aren’t even worth his time, and you talking about how thankful you are that he’s accepted you into his company and that you can’t be any more pumped to start.

That’s his cue to (very nicely) threaten you to shutting up if you still want to cum, and him talking in between broken grunts that you’ve earned the job both for your credentials and skills and of course the potential — not some dumb luck of having him as the CEO of the very company you’re chasing after, being friends with benefits with to the title of best friend.

To put it simply, Jungkook’s your platonic boyfriend of some sort. The both of you are dead sure that you don’t like each other in that way, and that soon enough, the two of you swear to flush out the libido so you’d stop hooking up.

It doesn’t necessarily mean that he’d stop cracking “that’s what you said” jokes and you teasing him about his whining.

The two of you are so compatible that it makes you forget about your dynamics with Jimin and how you’re even more compatible with him. His name’s only thrown around carelessly for good measure and not for drunk half-sobs from yourself.

It’s why Jungkook’s forcibly sat down on your floor as he eats his chicken wings, banned from the couch because you swear on his life that he’d regret his whole existence once he stains it. He has absolutely no choice but to pout and sit on your rug you haven’t vacuumed in awhile when he could easily buy you a new and better one if he does stain it.

You’re too engrossed over a movie because you don’t want to listen to Jungkook and his surprisingly strong moral compass, him already knowing that you’re deflecting this altogether so you could attempt to avoid the inevitable.

“Ignoring Jimin doesn’t mean you’ve moved on from him — do you know that?”

More than he’d likely admit, maybe Jungkook does have a taste for the emotions and the dramatics. He’s always been more in tune with it, but it had no place in the real world. Instead he gets his fill and spends almost all of it with the people he’s comfortable with — his family and a select amount of friends.

You’re the closest thing in real life he could ever relate to a reality show (although you always deny that your life is as eventful as it is), and Seokjin’s running to replace you in your spot because he always seem to get him even though they bicker the most, always smiling with his hyung because maybe, just maybe, Jungkook likes being taken care of.

Of course he’s observant. He wants to know you emotionally because knowing you physically so well doesn’t exactly coincide with the fact that you’re moving away from that phase in your relationship per se. He should absolutely know what’s with you furrowing your brows outside of the bedroom, know what’s tinkering with his best friend’s mind and not only relate it to when he hits your sweet spot from down under.

As soft as he sounds in contrast to his obvious demeanor from being in such a place of authority and growing up with everyone’s eyes on him, Jungkook’s grown to take care of you. It’s massive growth in his part for the past month because he learned that maybe he shouldn’t really take all of his life alone. Maybe he needs someone.

He’s not rushing for marriage and to be honest, if only the two of you weren’t platonic and you weren’t the farthest thing from being in his likes in that way, that would be the only time he’d look at you beyond as a friend. Companionship doesn’t need to equate to romantic relationships and that’s perhaps one of the many things he’d been lacking.

You like Jungkook as an addition to your life. You’re no stranger to strikingly-handsome best friends — Taehyung and Seokjin and of course Jimin are the living proof, but only the last part is who you’re unsure of.

And maybe yes, maybe Jungkook’s right. Maybe you can’t always avoid Jimin forever but you know that but you’d die on that hill because you can’t see yourself caving soon. Missing him yet not wanting to see him are the things you juggle with.

“Either side with me or you can get out of my apartment.”

He sputters when you slap his hand away and take his portion for yourself and audibly complains of how come you can sit on your couch and he can’t, forgetting that it’s your apartment and your couch that he’s talking about.

You’re also forgetting that he’s your boss, your superior, and your CEO. Although it becomes official by Monday, you come to your sense and sheepishly hand him half of it back.

You’ve quit the bartender gig but that doesn’t stop you from dropping in to work sometimes. Because maybe Jaehyun misses you a little that he pretends not to see when you sneak in a drink or two free of charge, and Seokjin misses you and his pride nowadays doesn’t deny him from saying that he misses you.

Jungkook kinda panics at that because not only does he not want to go home to his massive penthouse by himself where he can eat all that he wants on his couch, but he also needs the company and watching a crappy movie with you would give him a good night’s sleep.

“Look, look! All I’m saying is, from dude to dude or whatever, is that anyone could see how much he misses you.”

It’s your turn to slightly panic and you don’t know what to take from that, visibly caught in a daze as Jungkook takes the sweet time to slither from the floor to the couch.

He’d know that actually, because two weeks ago when he came over after a long tiring day and he just wants to be buried in you, Jimin just happens to aiming for you door too.

Jimin was second-guessing the whole day whether he should come over to your apartment unannounced and how you’d take it, but once the urge to visit overpowers, he certainly didn’t expect this guy.

He didn’t come empty-handed and there’s an outrageously tiny boquet he’s sure that you’d like because you found them obscene and adorable right inside his backpack. He doesn’t have the slightest clue inside his mind why you haven’t been yourself lately, or maybe it’s just because he refuses to believe it as it is.

Jimin’s cocky at first and that’s what Jungkook can clearly see, not resisting the amused scoff leaving him at the aura this other dude gives off.

“You two fucking?”

Jungkook laughs at that, both because he’s taken in surprise and also because it’s the clear answer.

“You wanna know?”

Actually, he’s starting to realize that maybe fucking you isn’t the only thing he’d like to do. You honestly seem pretty cool for a person, and he wants to befriend you! You’re level-headed as far as he knows, and the argument that’s flowing in his head is clearly different from the one in Jimin’s.

The older boy’s visibly frustrated, pinching his nosebridge as he tries to be civil.

“Look, I don’t know-...”

To put it simply, Jungkook has the knack of messing with people from time to time. Now may not exactly be the best time for it but he still takes the opportunity, ignoring the way Jimin’s gaze at him burns him down enough.

“I’m down for almost everything. Though I’d have to ask if Y/N’s game for a threesome or-“

“God, no! I-...”

Jimin resists the urge to bite back a snarky remark, opting to crack his knuckles using the same hands as he wants to be as level-headed with this as much as possible.

Namjoon coming out of his own apartment would be very convenient right now to diffuse the tension even if he’d feel it himself, yet your blue-haired neighbor doesn’t come out any time soon and neither will any of them back down.

He’s still a reasonable distance away from Jungkook who’s still standing in from your door, staying there because this whole scenario intrigues him that he figures that his desperations could wait a few more minute.

“Has she been eating properly? Sleeping? Still working?”

That’s a surprise.

Jungkook’s pleasantly taken aback with Jimin’s sentiments when it comes to you, a gentle smile on his face that maybe he’s not as bad as he thought of him.

Granted that yeah, he’s not the one who harbors unrequited love for him unlike you, but from what he can observe does he think that sometime along the way — of you going out of your way to get out of Jimin’s, is his change of heart

“Mhmm. I think. I don’t exactly live here.”

That’s all the silent reassurance he needs that you and him aren’t a thing, the relief in his heart unexplainable because the last time he checked, friends aren’t supposed to be this relieved for the other’s lack of a partner. It’s almost as if Jimin wished and prayed that Jungkook wasn’t your boyfriend.

“Cool.”

“Nice.”

He has his hands on his pockets as he twitches where he stands, Jungkook’s eyebrows raised because he knows all too well when someone’s hesitant to leave.

Jimin thinks it’s for the better if he retreats for now even if it pains him, planning to come back another day in better circumstances. Pondering about it, maybe this is a good thing. Keep his thoughts organized and his mind running, then try not to think about what’s probably going to happen as soon as Jungkook enters your door.

“Bye, Jungkook.”

This whole encounter truly cracks him up, finding it amusing as he leans against your door just to prof further.

“Searching me up? Dropped by the company? Don’t tell me you bought the latest magazine with my face on it.”

Jimin scoffs and he could tell that the both of them have atleast loosened up to each other and he doesn’t feel the urge to throw him down the floor like what he learned. But scoffing doesn’t take him away from the fact that yeah, okay, maybe he did exactly what Jungkook implied.

“Not like I wanted to spend my money on an overpriced issue. ‘Course I need to look out for Y/N.”

He pleasantly hums as he brings out his phone, about to text you to suddenly open your door right now with no questions asked. “That’s not your job.”

“And it’s yours?”

He shrugs at the condescending tone Jimin gives him, taking note to tell you about this interaction sooner than later.

“Never said it was mine.”

Jungkook backspaces his text until it’s blank, wanting to type a new one yet he stops in his tracks just to listen.

“Well then good. Because it’s mine.”

Jimin sounds so sure despite the ruffling his backpack gives when he readjusts it on his shoulder, swiping underneath his eye that he’s done out of habit and effectively taking out the last bit of eyeliner since he went here straight from a shoot.

You never actually said it was his, but he feels this obligation; this pull.

It’s a commitment he’s given himself, suddenly whispering to himself when all he’s done in the past minutes was to be accusatory with his sharp voice.

“It’s always been mine.”

bar this weekend? it’s also jin’s birthday soon and i’ve got some free shirts from this shoot that’s his size

we can put both our names on the card, i won’t tell :D

then split a sundae and some brownies, my treat!!

i’ll crash at ur place tho i still have a sweater or two left there

Jimin sighs to himself, making the makeup artist for a second that she’s the reason why he’s so huffy and the dabbing of the sponge to his cheeks don’t do anything to make the situation better.

He’s sighing, not because he’s run out of pride. Not because he used to find double-texting an ultra desperate move. Not because he now doesn’t spend a second longer thinking to send a message. No. He’s sighing because he feels that you’re so out of his grasp.

He can’t do anything about it currently, now that he’s in a shoot the director had to beg him to be in because in the past week, all that Jimin’s done is deny one offer after the other.

Normally he’d feel ecstatic that he’s becoming even more in-demand, but in truth, none of that matters when you’re the only one he’d be eager to have a meeting with. He’d take you over a designer shoot anytime without skipping a heartbeat, even if that means Yoongi, his agent, lose his shit over before curling up into a ball.

He’s booked yet he lets the chances slip from his fingers. Nothing could be any more important than you.

He’s hanging on by an insistent line of desperation actually, taking the time to skim through his phone’s camera roll and his Instagram archives to look for you, put you on his story, and leave people wondering.

If he was lucky enough then you’d add it to yours, and if he wasn’t then he’d be faced with nothing and a hundred other reactions that didn’t come from you, a full day left to soak in the pain that he doesn’t have your undivided attention.

Jimin knows that this was wrong -- knows that it’s selfish of him and his approach isn’t always the best, but he’s piss-poor clueless. His moral compass is clouded and just by you distancing yourself away from him is enough to drive him over the edge.

He’s so lost in you consuming his thoughts that sometimes he gets lucky, the frustration of trying to get where he went wrong and you went cold sets a distant and steely look on his face and it’s exactly what the photographer needed for the shoot.

You only feel half-sorry when your phone dings with multiple texts again from Jimin in the middle of trying on work outfits for your first day, despite your cold resolve that you want to keep up; and additionally, despite Jungkook’s insistence that you should wear the grey pencil skirt because it would be the perfect last outfit the two of you get to fuck each other in, and apparently, it should be in his office.

He’s unbearable, but he’s not half-bad you suppose.

It takes one beat, two beats before you will yourself to type out a reply, a little hitch in your breath and you’re not entirely sure if it’s just misplaced nervousness or because your high-waisted pencil skirt is literally too constricting and pencil-y for its own kind.

wish i could :(( would go to the bar at the weekend but i already promised another friend and he’s planned it weeks before

You already know that it’d be impossible and Jimin will most likely turn down the invitation altogether, even if what you said this time is entirely true.

Taehyung’s finally finished his studies abroad and he’s coming home at last, having already set up living arrangements and even interior designs months before he even got a ticket back home. One of the many plans he’s made was the both of you to go back to Jaehyun’s bar that was the witness to every miniscule thing (whether to celebrate or destress) back in college. And of course, since Tae exists that he has to be treated like royalty after having studied oh so long abroad, you’d have to treat and indulge him of course!

Those went along the lines of him saying he wanted to go to the aquarium, and then him pretending he didn’t plant that idea in your head, then breaking character for a brief second to tell you that you should surprise him with the tickets.

great! he can tag along with us then

Jimin replies as soon as he got ahold of his phone the moment yet-another mundane shoot ended, not even an hour from when you last sent in your text that has him breathing sharply.

It’s not a mistake with how he worded it, because after all, nobody could be anymore compatible with you, right? Jimin sometimes feels like he knows you more than he knows himself, and he could only assume that you think the same.

He’s not exactly pleased and he wouldn’t say that he’s a little hurt knowing it just wouldn’t be the two of you together nor you cancelling said plans with this other guy he’s highly suspicious of, even more suspicious than he could get with free shipping on a non-holiday.

Whatever it is you subject him to, it’s okay.

It’s okay.

Jimin would take whatever he can get.

“Promise me you’d behave.”

It’s an empty warning that goes through Taehyung, still grinning as he completely disregards what you’ve just said and leans to squeeze in your face once again.

He’s missed you — he truly did! Random things would remind him of you all throughout his time abroad, and the way he brought home souvenirs and goodies for you is all-telling. Well for one, he did bring home a plastic bag to you that he claims is filled with the air of where he stayed, but you’re still doubting if he’s just blown to it with his own breath. There’s the license plates and the mugs, and the more endearing ones were blankets and custom shirts he’s managed to snag for you.

The familiarity home brings gets him drunk and unsurprisingly, he’s already managed to befriend Jin despite knowing each other for less than an hour.

Tae just had to compliment Jin on his earrings, and he just had to squeal in delight because apparently you were too slow to notice them.

The two of you were already here in the bar an hour early before what Jimin said, and you decided on that with the reasoning that maybe you needed to be a little bit more intoxicated upon meeting him again after quite some time.

“It’s not like I bite. You told me we were similar or something like that.”

Taehyung finds it nice that you did get a best friend while he was away, because he’s the same with Hoseok who he’s also met and they just automatically clicked that they were roommates in the next week. He’s keen on you branching out, but he’s not exactly sure what to feel that he just had to be a little similar to this friend of yours.

He’s still your original, first, best close friend that no one can take the throne of.

“That is my point, Tae. The two of you are competitive over things and you haven’t even met each other yet.”

He hums at that, once again ignoring what you’ve just said as he pokes and pokes on your cheek.

Maybe it’s your bad luck, but you just have this pattern of having really handsome guys and only have them turn out as friends because neither have the feelings, and maybe you’ve also been so affection-starved that you think Taehyung poking your cheeks is domestic.

“Hmmm,” he hums indifferently, this time in a tune and even runs his thumb on your cheek incessantly, “what moisturizer do you use?”

It’s your turn to ignore him this time, having to physically shake Taehyung by the shoulder so he’d get to focus and won’t be in a trance with your moisturized cheeks that he likes attacking.

“Need to tell you some things,” his attention’s piqued yet he doesn’t jump into conclusions, his shoulder a very warm crevice that you surely missed which is why you’re immediately burying yourself into, not wanting to look him in the eye.

“I know there’s a lot of things.”

What Taehyung didn’t tell you is that he had some people then and there to after you, from some friends and to some family he sent every once in awhile and he simply couldn’t believe that you thought they were all coincidences and you just happened to bump to his mother in the grocery even if she lived in the next city.

“Tell me the most important ones in a single sentence. I’ll ask and we can catch up with everything later.”

He has a hunch on what said things could be but he doesn’t say a word, not sure if he already wants to precede wanting to know if you really do prefer cheese popcorn over butter and what would his reaction be if you-

“I just wanna tell you that Jisoo’s in town, I’m in love — used to, I think — with Jimin, and the two of them are together.”

Oh.

Taehyung stares off into the distance, his gaze into nothingness unrelenting are you’re actually nervous if you’ve broken him already.

Five beats, six beats, and Tae blinks. He’s finished trying to tie all the ends of your statement altogether and surprisingly, made peace with what he says a few seconds later.

“Doesn’t matter. Moved on long ago.”

Taehyung smiles but the rigidness of it isn’t his facial structure, but rather the slightest of pain behind it, an unexplainable glaze on his eyes that he blinks soon enough.

“W-well me too! I moved on too!”

His sudden confession, if it was even the truth in the first place, suddenly makes you do the same that it reminds him of an eager puppy he’s always wanted to get.

He snorts at that but doesn’t question the validity of what you’ve just said. Taehyung’s always known that you’re a bit fragile and he lets it pass — you atleast need something sembling control over your life.

“To let you know, I even sleep with-...”

“Oh my god, Y/N-...”

You’ve grown but you never really strayed, always wanting to prove something that you didn’t care about obviously giving too much information and crossing boundaries.

He’s giving you noogies and you let him, the tipsy lull of the shots that Jaehyun gave you taking its course.

Jimin’s more nervous than excited to stroll into the place, hands in his pockets that effectively crease his pants but he doesn’t mind.

It doesn’t take another second longer to find you even with your back turned to him, quickly weaving in between the sea of people to get to you. He’s probably gotten a curse or two, but none of those matter.

“Hey!” Jimin patters as soon as he sees the back of your head, taking you into a massive bear hug from behind you widen your eyes on.

He’s unbelievably gotten warmer than before, and you would’ve lost yourself if he didn’t squeeze you in earnest and if Taehyung didn’t take a once-over of him.

“Hi,” it’s the only one you could muster, two pats on his arm that you’d only reserve as a silent sign for him to let go and he knows that, but doesn’t take notice.

Taehyung’s the one that breaks it, a cold stare on Jimin that he only returns as icy.

“Park Jimin. Y/N’s best friend.”

You have no time to purse your lips over that, because Tae raises his eyebrows at it as if he’s either challenged or surprised, but he offers his hand nonetheless, noticing how much bigger his hand his that he instinctively squeezes it a little tighter like how he’d do with you.

And if Jimin is hurt, he doesn’t show it.

“Kim Taehyung. Y/N’s best friend since high school.”

That one’s something Jimin didn’t expect, head tilting to analyze if this Kim guy is actually serious and if he was, then how come you never told him?

His jaw clenches for a second, a forced smile on his lips that he’s practiced for his career day and night.

Not that it matters.

Taehyung and Jimin engage in conversation by themselves, and you don’t pay attention enough to know that their “conversation” is just them trying to boast, the other to be condescending, and trying to one-up each other in their knowledge about you.

“Bet you don’t even know Y/N’s favorite fruit.”

“What, as a child or the one she likes now? Better yet, do you even know the fruits that she hates?”

“Hmm, you mean practically almost everything? Nice try. Bet you don’t know how in second semester, she-“

“Took a tutoring class with Min Yoongi? The other intelligent dude that she used to have as a sworn enemy? Christ, it’s not like you even try.”

Your attention span has long been faded, instead turning your focus to Seokjin who hasn’t moved from his spot for washing the glasses for five minutes because he’s eavesdropping at the conversation, and he is certainly entertained.

“Are we getting wasted for your birthday?”

Jin has to blink away the sleepiness from his eyes that has since been disappearing ever since he dropped in to listen to the bickering, promising to himself that he should be well-rested and not have three hours of sleep for the days that you’re gonna come over the bar and have two best friends fighting over for a title they’ve made up themselves.

“Might be. Although I’m not inviting any of those two that look like they’re gonna claw each other debating what’s your favorite drink.”

Jin feels like a breath of fresh air, and in another tipsy haze, if only he had feelings for you and vice versa, he’d totally be your boyfriend by now.

You admire him but not in that way.

He fascinates you because you’ve figured that Jin’s always been more than well-off from the start. No one in their right mind would come to work in Gucci mules and in a Rolex wristwatch for their bartending job.

He’s explained it to you a couple of months back. Just so happens that Seokjin’s actually a heir to his dad’s company, and he just got this job to humble himself. Perhaps he’s the one born with a silver spoon in his mouth and had too much control, that he’s taken it upon himself to put him down a couple of notches.

That explains to how Jin just takes whatever schedule he can get and doesn’t complain, or to how him and Jungkook have always seemed familiar with each other and had too much in common, contributing factors were that he was Jungkook’s senior in business school and that they were born in the same elite circle. Also to how Jin applied to Jaehyun, and the guy must have found it ridiculous considering they both have the same situations, and immediately hired him right away.

Jin’s just always been there in a way, from how he’d offer you atleast half of his salary when you’re in a tight spot, to talking it out with Jaehyun when you insisted on coming to work with half a mind and a handful of cramps.

“You’re the best.”

That came out of nowhere, and so did the sudden poking of your finger to Seokjin’s bread smile, but he takes it.

Meanwhile, that’s gotten Jimin’s attention.

He’s been on edge and having Taehyung, who oddly seems similar to him, is insulting that he wants to deck him with his rings.

He doesn’t like feeling second. Doesn’t like feeling second to something he knew he’d be the first at, and the concept of not being the first meaning that you’re last makes him frown.

The thoughts consuming his mind are just too noisy to let go, taking advantage when Tae’s by the bathroom and Jin’s flagged down by a customer.

“Y’close with Taehyung?”

Jimin whispers as if it’s too shameful to be said aloud, and he thinks that it is, but you only roll your eyes at him playfully and it gets him in a deeper frown because you were only taking this lightly.

“I have other friends too, y’know.”

Yeah, he’s forgotten about that. And if he pretends hard enough, he could be the only one.

There’s no time to dwell on it, not when he’s already drowned in it too deep. He wants nothing but to be selfish and it’s a thought so massive that his ego seemed superficial.

“Jimin, you need to know something.”

There’s a light tap on his forearm but he was already long alert before that, his eyes widening with how you’re looking at him.

You’re looking at him like you used to and for some reason, he’s excited. He’s jittery and nervous at the same time, and he doesn’t know what for, but he wants you to say it.

“Y-yeah? What is it?”

His mind flashes back to when you confessed to him when you were drunk, and he thinks you’ve forgotten it. He’s forgotten about it too, actually. But the situation was so similar again but this time he wasn’t cowering from it nor laughing at your face.

This time he’s the one who’s nervous and hopeful, the tips of his fingers trembling as he looks deep into your eyes.

“Taehyung’s ex is Jisoo, alright? He already knows about the two of you. Just thought you needed the transparency.”

Your stern statement withers into a mumble at the end, Jimin’s stare so intense that it makes you cower.

Instantly, you think that he looks dejected because he’s already known for the start and the truth you’ve just dropped on him confirmed it.

Jimin’s absolutely crestfallen because it’s the furthest thing he’s ever expected for you to say, feeling your hand give him some consolation pats on his back.

One inhale, one exhale. Maybe the gnawing feeling of emptiness he’s feeling would be gone tomorrow, now that you’ve sprung an unknown truth of his current girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend happening to be your friend.

But that’s not the case.

“Yup. Needed that.”

It’s okay for Jimin to look for you.

It’s okay for him to only hum when Jisoo hugs him and buries her face in his chest. It’s not as warm as yours when you embrace him, and the scent that stays on his shirt isn’t of you. She doesn’t nudge her nose on the middle of his chest, and poke at his sternum and ask him to stop getting ripped.

It’s okay for him to only smile when she kisses him when used to giggle and actually love it. He’s never kissed you but he wonders everyday, and you’d probably taste as sweet as you look. If he ever did kiss you, you’d be his only fixation he can’t stop drinking out of.

It’s okay for Jimin to only smile when Jisoo tells him that she loves him, and if he ever does say it, there’s no I preceding the reiteration.

He’s not sure whether she means it or it’s out of habit, something developed when he said it so often and out of the blue. Even then, he can’t feel the saccharine feeling of being drunk in love anymore. Atleast Jimin knows that whenever you told him you loved him, you did actually mean it.

This is okay.

It’s okay for him to buy your perfume and spray it on his pillow, and if he closes his eyes hard enough, he could think that the comforter enveloping him is your warmth instead.

Jimin’s lost and he lets himself to be.

It’s okay to fall out of love with Jisoo.

Jimin from three months ago wouldn’t have thought that it was possible. In fact, he thought that it was the most impossible thing underneath the sun and he often confesses it to the moon, because he’s never fallen as hard.

Jimin from two months ago thought that he’s at his happiest, and everything that’s been happening ever since he’s laid his eyes on Jisoo is serendipity.

Jimin from a month ago thought that he was rotting from within. He felt as if he’s the most frustrated he’s ever been and it got him wondering whether his hair is actually dyed grey or if it’s from his stress.

Jimin now, is someone that has never been hurt before as he’s hurting now.

He finds himself in this same godforsaken bar he’s grown to both hate and love, and the start and end of what seems to be the things that make and break him as a person.

It’s clear as day when under the simultaneously soft and harsh lighting, that maybe Jisoo’s never been his.

No one between the two of them actually made the initiative to break up with the other, but it seemed like words weren’t needed.

She’s perhaps always belonged to Taehyung who has the tightest of grips on her waist. There’s no grinding, no libido. Embracing each other in the middle of a crowd tells him everything he needs to know.

Jisoo’s slipped away from Jimin’s grasp and into Taehyung’s who’ll she will always come back to. Tae never wavers and he’s holding onto her as if she’s his lifeline, and that wouldn’t exactly be wrong.

Jimin’s girlfriend is slipping away from him but it’s not what pains him.

Jimin’s eyes are bleary, and he’s unsure whether it’s because he’s drunk or because he’s crying. Whatever it was, it’s not because of Jisoo — it’d never been her.

He rests his head on your shoulder and you let him. He feels so defenseless and looks shattered that you don’t question him nonetheless, a magnanimous feeling of pity rolling from every circle you rub to his back.

“You’re really beautiful.”

He says it out of the blue as if it’s a confirmed thought, looking up at you in stride.

“Don’t say things like that,” you could only murmur as you try to look for a bottle of water within your reach, sooner or later having to haul Jimin home.

He doesn’t have a slightest clue why you’d dismiss it, but he persists as he always does.

“I’m really lucky to know you,” it’s an irrevocable fact with how he says it, making you think for a second if he’s actually sober and could come home by himself. That’s not any of his worries, because this time his mind works as fast as his mouth does. “But I think I’m the luckiest if I can have you.”

As Jimin comes to realize, it’s not Jisoo that he should’ve fallen for. He got burned as fast as he crashed, and it was love like that he’s always tried seeking.

It’s the easy short-lived warmth he got from a candle, but never the hard yet lasting warmth he got from a fireplace.

Your love for him was built steadily over the years and never all at once. It was from a spark to a fire in the making you took the chance being burnt from, and how long it was built meant no match to how short it was extinguished.

“Am I too late?”

Jimin’s as vulnerable as he can get that he doesn’t realize he’s already crying and it’s not drunken blues anymore.

He loves you so much and it takes an avalanche to make him realize that every moment with you shined.

His heart’s a muscle and he couldn’t believe that he’s only realized now that you’re it’s one true memory, having trained to be with you so much that no one could quite compare all along.

You don’t need anything to be the light; you don’t need to do anything to be the center of attention. It’s always been you yet he’s dismissed the thought that maybe it was just the bias of having known you.

But now, it’s about who he would and wouldn’t be if not for you.

Jimin can’t live without even the concept of you.

“If I told you that I’m falling for you, what would you do?”

And when you look at him with the same hint of bleariness in your eyes, and his shoulder feels the brunt of your tentative squeeze and sees the lightest of smiles on your lips —

Jimin knows everything that he needs to know.

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abby-abs · 4 years ago

Text

finding the light pt 2

Summary: some time have passed and Y/N and Abby grown close since her and Lev’s arrival to Catalina. Lev sees the obvious tension between them but they don't.

An: Im so sorry that this took so long my life has been hectic with classes and my mom having surgery in September. There is gong to have a part three i have some ideas floating around in my head. An extra big thanks to @swatlesbian, @rianncreates, and @ice-cream-monster-truck for encouraging me to write a part two and being so patient about it. Love you all. Enjoy.

If you’d like Read pt one here

“Abby do you like y/n?” Lev asks out of nowhere.

“Yeah, of course I do she’s my friend.”

“No, not like that, I mean like like”

“I don’t know what you mean”

Really? I may have been raised in a cult but I can tell. You act weird around her, all jumpy and nervous.

“Pff no I don’t.”

“It’s been three months Abby! there’s clearly something there!” lev says frankly.

There was a knock on the door

I got it” she says before rushing to the door opening it to see y/n standing there. “Y/n hey what are you doing here.” She lifts her arm to lean against the door frame but misses it completely causing her to stumble. Y/n laughs.

“Nice to see that you're still a dork.”

“ Yeah well, somethings never change I guess.” She could feel Lev rolling his eyes at them. Which he did.

“Some of the other fireflies are going more inland to have a bonfire and I wanted to see if you two wanted to come.”

“Yeah sounds fun.” She turns towards lev. “What do you think lev.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Great we’ll leave in a little bit.”

Both y/n and Abby grab some snacks and a blanket for you three to sit on.

“Got everything you need?” Abby asks and y/n nods and lev gives a cheerful “yup”

Y/n gets in the driver's side. When they get there the sun is beginning to set, creating beautiful hues of purple, pink, and orange in the sky. They spread out their blanket far enough away from anyone else to have some privacy.

“Look what I have for dessert” Y/n opens up the basket and takes out three slices of her famous honey cake. Lev’s eyes go wide, he absolutely loved y/n’s honey cake.

“Fresh honey cake from the honey that I harvested yesterday. Oh and.” She pulls out two bars of beeswax soap “it’s the citrus kind that you both like, and also citrus candles.”

“Y/n you don’t have to give us all this.”

“Yes, I do. Let me spoil my two favorite people. Anyways I wanted to give you two first dibs before I end up running out. There’s also a jug of honey mead that has your name on it, Abby, just have to wait for it to finish brewing.”

“Your so sweet y/n,” Abby says

“Like honey,” Lev adds and they laugh.

“ why don’t you guys come over sometime, I can show you how I make all these things and care for the bees”

“Sure that sounds awesome.” He turns to Abby “is that the right word Abby?” She smiles at him.

“Yeah, that’s right kid.” She says then looks back at Y/N. “Im gonna ave to start calling you honey bee.” she says. This makes Y/N’s face burn up, she hides her face by looking down.

The moment was interrupted when some kids that Lev made friends with at school come over to the blanket.

“Hey Lev we wanted to know if hang out with us.” They boy who Abby remembers his name to be Graham asks. Lev looks at them waiting for approval.

“You can go but just make sure you don’t get home too late okay. Graham I’m expecting your mom to drive you guys back to town yes?” Abby’s tone is stern. He nods still afraid of her even after countless of times Lev told him not to be. Abby gives Lev the key in the rarity of him getting home before her. “have fun kid.”

He nods before saying. “Y/n make sure she doesn’t eat my honey cake. I still don’t forgive her for the last time.”

“You got it. I’ll guard it with my life.” She says.

Lev leaves leaving you two alone to stargaze. You both lay on your backs looking up at the starry night sky.

“Look at you being mama bear Abs. Setting curfews for Lev to be home by.” Y/n teases “it’s a good look on you.”

“Well, I know the island is relatively safe but I still get paranoid at times.”

“Yeah, I know. I can’t believe you ate the kid's cake though. You know how much he loves it.”

“I told him I was sorry. I wonder what I can do for him to forgive me .”

“Maybe not eat his honey cake for starters.”

“But it’s so good.” she coos.

“if we were together I’d make an endless supply of honey cakes’ is what y/n wanted to say.

“All this talk of my cake and your not even going to eat the slice I gave you?” Y/N quipped.

“All right all right.” abby sits up and eats some of the cake “mm. you out done yourself again. This is amazing.”

“You wanna know the secret ingredient?”

Abby squints her eyes. “What?”

“honey” She says and abby groans at her bad joke.

“that was horrible.” abby says making Y/N laugh.

“Shush, i know you loved it

Yeah I do

“What was that. Did I just hear you say you love my corny jokes” y/n raises her brows in surprise.

Don’t push it

Whatever you say

Abby wraps up what’s left of her slice and puts it into the basket

They both end up laying on your sides facing each other, Abby moves hair out of Y/N’s face. You shiver at the cool breeze

“Are you cold?”

“No, it’s fine.” Y/n answers trying to conceal her slight shivering.

“Here take my sweater.” She offers, taking off her sweater. Her shirt underneath lifts slightly to expose Abby’s toned stomach. Y/n bites her lip trying hard not to stare.

“Abby it’s fine, I’m fine really.”

“Y/n if you don’t take this sweater I’m gonna make a scene and everyone here will think we’re crazy.“

Y/n laughs “fine only because I don’t want anyone to know I’m friends with a psychopath.” Y/n sits up and puts on her sweater. It was warm and it smelt like the citrus soap she had made and gave her. Y/n laid back down scooting up next to her more warmth. Abby took this as an opportunity to drape an arm over her waist. This started to become a thing between them, they’d find themselves cuddling together on the couch or bed practically clinging onto each other. As if, if they’d be separated again not saying anything, the comfortable silence. Lev would catch them in these situations and think ‘how can they be so oblivious’. But for y/n and Abby they did it for comfort and security. They could stay like this for hours, comfortable silence as they lay in each other’s arms. It was just too bad that they oblivious to even notice there feelings.

“Abby.” Y/n says breaking the silence

“Hm?” She hums

“We should get going, it’s getting late and cold.” Y/n suggests

“Yeah, your right.” You yawn to her response “I’m getting pretty tired.” You both pack up and she shakes off the blanket before wrapping you up

“Abby no it’s you I’m worried about.” She tries to push the blanket away.

“You don’t need to be. I’m fine, I run hot.”

“I don’t care, now put on the blanket before I make a sense.” Y/n imitates her from before.

Abby sighs in defeat “ here let’s do this.” She unwraps y/n and drapes the large blanket over both their shoulders.

“As clever as always.” Y/n comments

“Wouldn’t say the same thing for you.”

Y/n looked at her with fake offense.

“Excuse you!” Y/n scoffs

“I’m kidding”

“Your not funny you know.” She says bumping her shoulder.

“So I’ve been told.” She chuckled

Y/n picked up the basket and walk back carefully not to drop the blanket. Abby keeps the blanket around her as you drive then gets out and grabs the basket this time. She throws an arm around y/n’s shoulder engulfing her in the blanket again. Once at the, you go to open it but notice that you forgot to grab your keys. Catalina is a safe place but she just felt safer if she locked the door while not being there, especially with all her merchandise in there.

“Crap I’m locked out” y/n jiggles the door nob with no avail.

“I’m having a 'you were right moment.'” Abby says

“Says who?“ you put a hand on your hip.

“Says me.”

“About what, may I ask.”

“About you being a knucklehead sometimes.” She answers back

“Well, I was brilliant before I started to hang out with you. You're rubbing off on me.”

She laughs “common you can stay at mine and we’ll deal with this tomorrow.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now come.” They walked over to her house fuck I gave the key to Lev

“Who’s the knucklehead now.”

“Still you. I have a spear under the mat. “

“Alright, Einstein why don’t you give Lev the spare so you both have your own.” y/n chirps amusedly.

“Shut up.” she says in defeat.

You laugh. “Not so high and mighty now.” You yawn again. Abby opens the door and they walk to the spare bedroom.

“I’ll go get you extra blankets.”

She leaves and comes back with the blankets and a spare shirt for her to sleep in. She helps y/n get settled in then sits on the bed with her. “If you need anything my room is down the hall, Lev’s room is next to yours"

"Okay, thank you, Abby."

"No problem, good night y/n.”

"Good night Abby."

Abby smiles at her then closes the door. Y/n changes into the shirt before laying down, turning on her side, and falls asleep. When she opens her eyes again she’s at the firefly hospital, everything was dark and there was an alarm blearing in her ears. She looked around to find someone but all she saw were dead bodies.

“Abby! Manny! Nora! Guys!” She walks around looking. “Where are you!” She opens one of the doors and sees all her friend's there dead gunshot riddled body’s lie limply on the floor. “No.” Her voice catches in her throat. “No. No no, no.” Y/n runs over kneeling in front of Abby, setting her on her lap. “Abby, please. Abby, wake up please.” She cries her voice cracking. She quickly turns when she hears a gun cock. She sees a tall older man with a beard and dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans. She raised a pleading hand about to beg for her life but then there was the bang of the gun firing.

Y/n jolts awake gasping for air, tear-streaked face glowing in the moonlight. She panicked a bit when she noticed she wasn’t home then calmed when she remembered she was at Abby’s. Abby. She was okay and alive. Before she could even think properly she was at her bedroom door. She lifts her hand to knock letting it hover there for a second before doing so. She opens the door. “Abby?” She says peaking her head through the crack. How she was thankful at that moment that Abby’s a light sleeper. She turns to face the door.

“Y/n what’s wrong?” She asked voice groggy. If she wasn’t in a state of fear she would have thought she sounded sexy.

“I. I had a nightmare.” Y/n could feel her eyes begin to fill with tears again as the scene of the nightmare flashes in her head. Abby says nothing she just opens the covers as a silent come here which y/n was thankful for. She treks her way in and lays next to Abby who throws the cover over her. Abby pulls her close rubbing a hand down her back in hopes that would help calm y/n down.

“It’s alright y/n you're in a safe place. Do you want to tell me what it was about? Maybe I could help.” Y/n shakes her head no. “Ok that’s alright maybe we can talk about it in the morning if you’d like. Try to get some sleep I’ll be right here, you're safe. “ Y/n takes a deep breath slowly falling back to sleep.

Abby gently rubs her cheek and presses a kiss to her forehead. Maybe lev was right, maybe she did have feelings for y/n.

#Abby Anderson #the last of us abby #abby anderson x reader #tlou abby #the last of us pt 2 #abbyanderson imagin #abby the last of us #tlou part 2 #tlou pt ii

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lemonpeter · 4 years ago

Text

STARKER, By Peter B. Parker

Chapter 2: Friends to Lovers & First Time

A/N: ok we may have gotten a little...carried away with this chapter. but writing this fic really is so much fun and we’re excited to hear what you guys think! -bloo and bri

Warnings: Peter is 17, first time, VERY nff (won’t go into detail because I want to show up in the tags, but this is almost completely s*x)

Chapter 1 💕 ao3

————

Tony was back. And it almost felt like he’d never been gone at all.

Peter was beyond grateful that his plan had worked. Sure, it might've been a bit desperate and hair-brained, even for him, but he was pretty sure that the end justified the means.

He had spent the past nine months in a sort of fog, going through the motions because that's what he was supposed to do. It was what was expected of him.

He knew that he had never properly grieved Tony, not really. He hadn't been able to handle it. And now he didn't have to.

Peter felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He hadn't felt this happy in a long time. Having Tony back was...indescribable.

The older man had always felt like home. The two of them were able to connect on so many levels. They both understood the pressures of being a hero, of having such great responsibility. Both knew what it felt like to suffer great losses. There were hours spent in the lab, poring over suit designs and updates, their intellectual and innovative capacities always meshing seamlessly, never clashing. They got each other, plain and simple.

But then he wavered between being content with his and Tony’s comfortable mentor/mentee relationship and doing what he really wanted to do: push things along so that he and Tony would finally be together, as two people that loved each other. Because he knew that deep down, Tony did love him, had always loved him in some capacity.

Peter had done a lot of thinking in the months after- Well, after. He’d always cared for Tony, and everyone knew about his crush and the hero-worship could be seen from the moon, but it wasn’t until the man was gone that he’d realized just how much he had truly come to love him. It had eaten away at his insides, the knowledge that he’d found the person he was meant to be with and then immediately lost him.

But Tony was back now. It was surreal.

And to be completely honest, Peter hadn’t even expected it to work, this whole thing; but he really shouldn’t have been surprised. Tony was a certified genius, of course EDITH was capable of creating such a complex illusion. And the teen thanked the universe that he was smart enough to understand the mechanics enough to alter them to fit his needs.

He thought back to Happy’s words on the quinjet in the Netherlands. He had said that Tony only ended up doing...what he did...because he knew that Peter would be here.

And here Peter was, doing...this.

Thankfully, this Tony had no reason to question the situation or his behavior. So, because he’d made it this far, and because he was so fucking sick of having everything good taken away from him, Peter decided to run with it.

For starters, in order to set the right tone, he decided that he wasn’t going to ever say the words “Mr. Stark” ever again. If he wanted to convince Tony that they were lovers, he needed to act like it himself. (And the title, though it was said with affection, always brought him back to feeling numb on that dusty planet, his arms wrapped around Tony’s neck before they disintegrated into nothing. Before he disintegrated into nothing.)

That also meant there was no need to hold himself back when it came to physical touch and affection. Tony had always been rather touchy-feely with him, and Peter now had the opportunity to initiate the contact himself. No over-thinking, no more being worried his advances would be met with rejection.

Tony’s voice startled him, pulling him out of his thoughts. "What'cha thinkin’ about, kid? Lost you for a minute there." The man was leaning against the counter of the bar, looking relaxed as ever, glass of scotch in hand. An easy smile curved his lips upwards and the shimmer in his eye was one Peter had seen a million times before.

The young man took a breath and looked down at his bare feet on the soft carpet of the living room, steeling himself where he sat on the couch. "Us." He cut his eyes upwards, making eye contact with the billionaire.

Tony simply raised a questioning eyebrow in response and Peter felt his heart lurch in his chest at the familiarity of that expression.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Peter decided to be brave and pushed himself up off the plush sofa. "I want there to be an us," he clarified, taking the two small stairs in stride and then making his way towards the older man. "I want us to be...together. I love you so much, Tony. And I- I think you love me, too." He stopped walking once he was about a foot away, biting his bottom lip. His hands were clasped in front of him.

“Say something,” was his soft mumble when all Tony did was cock his head to the side slightly, eyes searching his face for something. Peter felt his face get hot after a moment and he suddenly felt completely foolish. God, was this not even realistic in an illusion created by his own brain-

“Hey,” Tony said, gently. “Look at me.” He sat his glass down and took a step away from the bar and into the boy’s personal space. “Why do you look so panicked?” One of his hands moved to cup Peter’s face, thumb caressing his cheekbone. “It’s just me.” His voice was soft and warm, and that combined with the fact that he was touching Peter made the young man let out a quiet whimper.

“There’s no such thing as ‘just you’, Tony,” Peter replied, his own hand coming up to clutch at Tony’s wrist. It was warm under his fingertips. “You’re everything. You always have been.”

Tony tilted his head down a bit, forcing Peter to tilt his up to maintain their eye contact. “And you’ve always been everything to me. You’ve gotta know that, kid. Pete. Tell me you know that.” When Peter just continued to blink up at him owlishly, he chuckled lightly. “I invented time travel for you, baby. I couldn’t handle living in a world without you in it.” His voice had trailed off to barely a whisper by the time he finished.

There was something deep and warm in Tony’s eyes. Pride, adoration, vulnerability. And it made Peter feel like he could do absolutely anything.

He knew he was rushing things but- He was in charge here, he really could do whatever he wanted. So he opened his mouth again.

“Take me to bed, Tony,” Peter whispered, breath ghosting across against the older man’s lips. God, they hadn’t even kissed yet and here he was begging to sleep with Tony.

Whose eyes were searching his face again, but Peter still didn’t know for what, exactly. “Pete...Are you sure you-”

He cut the other off, the words coming out without his permission. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want this, as much as I want you.” Peter bit his lip after his interruption, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He hadn't really meant to be that honest. “I love you, Tony,” he said, opening his eyes and making eye contact with the billionaire. “I want you.”

Something smoldered between them for a few seconds before-

“Then c’mere,” Tony rasped, pulling him close once more. He pressed a chaste kiss to the shorter man’s lips, followed by another soft peck, sighing as he pulled away. “I love you, Peter,” he mumbled before he licked his way into Peter's mouth.

Shivers shot up the younger man's spine at the sensation. He’d been kissed before, but it had never felt anything like this. Like fireworks, like everything was falling into place. A soft whine escaped him as one of Tony’s hands moved to hold the back of his neck, the other grabbing at his ass. “Tony,” he mewled. His own hands clutched the fabric of Tony’s t-shirt in an attempt to ground himself.

A soft hum left Tony’s mouth, his lips brushing against Peter’s. “I’ve got you,” he said, closing the distance between them once more.

Their tongues caressed each other languidly, the filthy, wet sounds almost deafening in the large room. Peter felt himself growing hard in his pants and he pressed his hips forward at the feeling, the lust twisting deep in his belly. It felt too good for the embarrassment of being so needy to take hold. He brushed up against Tony’s own burgeoning erection, which prompted them both to let out simultaneous groans.

“So good for me,” Tony breathed. “Let’s go, baby. C’mon, come to bed with me.” He jerked his shoulders up, encouraging Peter to wrap his arms around his neck, and grabbed at the smaller man’s thighs and behind in order to lift him up.

Peter closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of Tony’s neck. When he opened them again, he was being placed on the soft, carpeted floor of the bedroom.

Tony stalked forward slowly, entwining his fingers with Peter’s and forcing him to shuffle backwards until he fell down onto the plush bed. “Hey.”

Peter’s eyes were wide, pupil’s blown as he stared up at the man of his dreams who was crawling up over his body until they were face to face with each other. He drew in a shaky breath, a hint of a smile gracing his lips. “Hi.”

Tony pressed a kiss to the tip of Peter’s nose. “You doin’ okay? Still wanna do this?”

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Peter nodded. He wished that Tony would stop asking, but at the same time, it felt nice. It made him feel important, valued. “I’m great, I want this. I promise.” He shifted a bit in order to wrap his arms around Tony’s neck as kisses were pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

A grin overtook Tony’s face as he pulled back. “Then we’re wearing far too many clothes, huh?” He sat up so that he was straddling Peter’s waist, an arm raising to pull at the collar of his shirt and yank it over his head before throwing it somewhere across the room. Then he climbed off the brunette’s slight frame in order to shuck his jeans, leaving him clad in only a pair of black boxer briefs. He stood at the foot of the bed, one knee on the mattress. The fingers of his right hand brushed against the inside of Peter’s ankle. “Your turn, baby.”

Peter took a breath as he pushed himself up into a sitting position and crossed his arms in front of his stomach, gripping at the hem of his sweatshirt. He cut his eyes away, staring at the covers as he fiddled with the fabric somewhat anxiously. He was about to be naked in front of Tony for the first time. Sure, the older man had seen him in various states of undress before in order to fit him for the suit, but this was different.

He looked back up at Tony, the man’s warm, patient gaze bringing a flush to his cheeks. Peter steeled himself and started pulling the shirt up and over his head. He could do this. The garment was discarded over the side of the bed before he layed back down, pressing his heels into the mattress as he pushed his hips up in order to scoot back so that his head was now in the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed. His thumbs hooked in the waistband of his pants and pushed them down below his knees. “Help me,” he said imploringly, blinking up at Tony.

The billionaire reached down slowly, running his hands along the pale expanse of Peter’s thighs. The chocolate of his eyes darkened when one of Peter’s legs twitched at his touch. “You’re beautiful, Peter.” His voice was reverent as he looked down, gazing into Peter’s eyes as he pulled the sweatpants down the rest of the way and dropped them on the floor. “So perfect.” His beard scratched across the boy’s chest when he leaned down to press kisses to each of the freckles scattered on the smooth skin. “So strong.” A hand caressed his lower belly, running over his abs.

And for maybe the first time, under Tony’s eyes and his hands, Peter truly felt that way.

He pulled at Tony’s salt and pepper hair, gasping as the pecks against his flesh turned into wet, open-mouthed kisses, teeth occasionally pinching at his skin. In his boxers, his cock twitched as he got fully hard. “T-Tony,” he whimpered. “I’m- Feels good.”

Tony smirked into his stomach. “That means I’m doing something right then, kid.” He continued making his way south, Peter’s breath picking up as he released his hair to clutch at the covers. Once reaching the plaid boxers, he let his mouth land over the hard member inside. At first he just let Peter bask in the feeling of the warm, moist air before sucking slightly.

A choked cry left Peter’s lips and his hips bucked harshly. “Fuck, fuck, Tony do- Do that again,” he panted. Peering down the bridge of his nose, he watched as Tony, who had his own eyes closed, suckled at the head of his dick again, the fabric growing dark and damp. There was more suction this time. That familiar feeling was starting to tug behind his belly button. God, how was he already so close?

And apparently Tony could tell. “You close, honey? Gonna cum in your boxers from me kissing your cock?” He didn’t seem upset, pulling away to run his tongue from the base back up to the tip and sucking the salty fluid he found there through the plaid material. A groan rumbled deep in his chest. “Taste so good, baby.” He paused for a moment, looking up at Peter from underneath his eyelashes, making the younger man suck in a sharp breath. “Wanna see you, Pete. Can I take these off?” He fingered the waistband with his pointer finger.

“Yes, yes- Please.” Peter shifted his hips again in order to help Tony remove the last of his clothing. Once he was naked, his erection thudded obscenely against his lower belly, smearing saliva and precum over the skin there.

Tony took the hard flesh into his spit-slicked hand, stroking it slowly, teasing his young lover. He greedily drank in the wanton sounds that were escaping Peter, his own cock straining in his underwear as he pressed himself against the edge of the bed. Taking the now uncovered tip into his mouth, he began to bob his head.

Peter keened. One of his hands flew up to grab blindly at Tony’s hair again, eyes closed in pleasure. It was so wet, so warm- “Tony, Tony, please!” He fucked his hips up into Tony’s mouth, crying out again when the older man allowed his cock to slide to the back of his throat, making him gag slightly. “Ahhhh, shit!” The pressure was building up inside him once more and his whole body started to get tense. “I’m so, I’m s-so close, Tony.”

All the other man did was hum around his dick and take it all the way down to the root, his nose pressing up against the chestnut curls at the base. His hands clutched at Peter’s asscheeks, pulling them apart slightly in order to gently press the pad of his index finger against the boy’s quivering hole.

The vibrations, coupled with the unexpected sensation at his opening, had Peter cumming with a broken whine, hips stuttering as he emptied himself in Tony’s mouth.

Not pulling away until Peter was whimpering from overstimulation, Tony kissed the skin over the teen's hipbone. "That was so good, baby." Crawling until he was fully on the bed, he laid beside Peter, pulling him into his arms to bring their mouths together. "You were so good for me."

Peter moaned at the taste of himself on Tony's tongue. "Thank you," he whispered when they pulled away. He shifted, slipping his thigh between Tony's. The older man's erection was still pressing against the material of the tight, dark briefs. Reaching down, he cupped the impressive bulge in his hand. From what he could see and feel, Tony was larger than his own slightly above average length.

"That was amazing. But I want this now," Peter said coyly, tightening his grip before releasing. He looked into Tony's eyes, wanting him to see the truth in them, the trust. The love. "Want you to fuck me, Tony, please."

Tony groaned, flipping them over so he was once again looming over the other man. "Fuck, Pete. How can I say no when you beg so sweetly?" He brought up a hand to cup at Peter's cheek, thumb pulling at his bottom lip. A hiss escaped him when Peter began to lightly suck on the digit. "As good as that feels," he started, "I think we're gonna need some lube."

Peter paused for a moment, releasing the finger with a soft pop, before reaching behind his head and under one of the pillows, then proudly brandishing the small bottle and thrusting it in Tony's direction. "Got it."

“That’s perfect, honey,” the man mused, taking it. He clicked the top open before looking over Peter again. “Just want to do it like this? On your back, me like this?”

“Yes, Tony. I want...I want to see you,” Peter whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. It had been something he’d thought about for years, something he’d dreamed about. Far too many times. And it was finally happening.

Tony nodded, smiling down at him. “Then I can definitely do that,” he assured him, gently pushing his legs apart a little more in order to get between them.

Peter slightly shifted the position he was laying in, angling his hips so that it would be easier for Tony to get to him. There were plenty of pillows on the bed, so he leaned back onto them but stayed sitting up enough to see what was going on.

The clear, slick liquid was poured over Tony’s fingers. It was probably an excessive amount, but he figured they were better safe than sorry. If he was going to be Peter’s first time, they definitely needed to focus on prepping.

The younger man bit his lip gently, watching as Tony’s hand disappeared between his legs. Then he felt the cold, wet fingers up against his hole and a surprised gasp left him.

“Sorry.” Tony chuckled, his fingers prodding gently at the tight muscle as he talked. “Meant to warn you about that. It’s cold.”

“Little too late for that,” Peter mumbled, but he was smiling again as soon as the initial shock wore off. It was really happening. Tony was touching him without a hint of resistance, like it was something they’d done a million times before.

Tony’s eyes studied Peter’s expression as he started pressing forward with the tip of one finger, making sure the young man wasn’t hurting at all. He paused as soon as there was even the slightest hint of pain on his face. “Need me to stop?”

“No, Tony,” the teen breathed. “Don’t stop. It’s just...different.” He tried to relax, that way it would be less uncomfortable and even maybe go faster.

“Right...just let me know if you need me to stop. And I will, immediately,” Tony assured him.

And Peter knew the words true. “I know. Promise, I’ll tell you. But it’s really okay.”

Tony nodded slowly, continuing on with his task. His finger gently pushed in further, trying to relax Peter’s muscles as he went.

Peter’s eyes slipped shut as he instinctively clenched around the intrusion. It was such an odd feeling, but it wasn’t bad. Just odd. Different. New.

He slowly relaxed more as Tony kept working and eventually a second finger was added. His hole began to loosen, letting the older man easily slide his fingers in and out as he continued the prep.

When Tony decided he was satisfied with the results, he pulled his fingers free and pushed his own briefs off.

Peter’s breath caught as he watched the length of Tony’s cock come uncovered, bowing under its own weight once the clothing was completely off. And all of it was going to go in him.

He knew he could take it. He had faith in the prep that Tony had done for him. But that didn’t make him feel any less nervous.

“Maybe we can start in a different position?” Peter suggested, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. He wasn’t sure if he was completely successful or not.

Tony just looked amused, slicking up his cock with a generous amount of lube as he watched the teen. “Whatever you want, baby. What do you have in mind?”

Peter chewed his lip, slowly sitting up more before moving so that he was on his hands and knees. Though he felt terribly exposed in the new position, it was much preferred to the alternative. He glanced over his shoulder at Tony. “Like this?” He asked, almost sounding shy.

“Yeah, we can do that,” Tony told him softly, sliding his hands over the younger man’s ass gently. His bottom lip found its way between his teeth. “Definitely can do that. You’re still sure about this, though?”

“I am. I promise I am.” Peter got more comfortable, moving down so that he was leaning on his elbows. He felt so empty now, without Tony’s fingers inside him, and he couldn’t wait to be filled again. “Take me, Tony. I’m ready for you.”

The older man nodded, stroking himself for a moment before positioning the head of his cock at Peter’s entrance. “I’m ready for you too, honey. I’ve been ready.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Peter asked flirtatiously, grinning back as he watched Tony. Then his grin melted away, replaced by a mixed expression of pleasure and a bit of discomfort as Tony thrust his hips forward slightly.

“Shit, you’re tight,” Tony mumbled, hands holding onto Peter’s hips as he started pressing forward. He watched as the teen’s hole stretched around his cock, easily taking the entire length. “Fuck, Pete.”

Peter buried his face against one of the pillows, mouth open wide around a moan. “And you’re huge,” he breathed, weakly pressing his hips back.

Tony pushed himself in until his hips were flush with Peter’s ass, breathing hard as he bottomed out. “Oh, you are so perfect. So...yes, god.” His hands cupped the young man’s ass, squeezing before he remembered to check in again. “Is it good for you too? Nothing’s hurting?”

“No, not hurting, don’t worry,” Peter assured him with a shaky moan. “Don’t stop. I need you to move, need you to fuck me, Tony.”

The man grinned a little, nodding. “I can do that.” He started with slow thrusts, letting Peter get used to the movement at first.

Peter kept his face against the plush bedding, breathing hard. Before he realized what was going on, he felt a tear slip from the corner of his eye. Why was he crying? He was finally getting what he wanted, there would be no point in tears. It made no sense.

But then he realized that was just it. He was getting what he’d wanted for so long. Tony’s love, his intimacy, his attention. Just...having Tony at all.

The realization brought a whole round of tears, making him bury his face in the pillow so that Tony couldn’t see him cry. If his shoulders shook with his sobs, Tony wouldn’t be able to tell with the way he was moving anyways.

He was enjoying it immensely regardless, whimpering through his tears and moving his hips along with Tony’s as the older man moved behind him. The grip on his waist loosened a little and Peter whined, wiggling a bit. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” He wasn’t even ashamed of how needy he sounded, it felt too good.

“I’m not stopping, Pete. Just...I want to see you, while we do this,” Tony whispered. “Is that okay?”

Peter stilled, sniffling a little. If he turned around, it would be obvious that he had been crying. And Tony couldn’t know. He didn’t want to ruin this.

“Is it okay?” Tony repeated, sounding a bit nervous. It was strange to hear such an inflection in his voice. The man was always so strong, so sure of himself.

It stirred something deep within Peter. “Yes. Yeah, it’s okay. I want to see you too.” He wiped his eyes quickly, trying to dry his tears and make it unnoticeable that he had been crying. But he wasn’t so sure that it worked. He felt Tony’s hands completely release him and he steeled himself before turning over so that he was once again laid out on his back. “Hi,” was his soft mumble as their eyes met.

Tony smiled at him with his eyes as much as his mouth. “Hey, honey,” he replied just as gently, as if they were in a trance that would break if they were any louder. Positioning himself back between the slighter man’s spread legs, he took his erection in hand and slowly breached the ring of muscle. A shuddering breath escaped him as he kept going until he was completely seated in the tight, warm heat. “Peter,” he sighed.

Peter closed his eyes briefly, taking a moment to appreciate how deep Tony was buried inside him at this angle. “So deep.” He breathed the words out, groaning a bit when Tony pulled out only to start thrusting in earnest. “S-so good, Tony.” One of his legs bent at the knee in order to wrap around the man’s thick waist.

“Yeah? Feels good?” Tony’s voice was breathy as he pounded into Peter, holding himself up on his arms. He shifted his weight in order to clutch at the thigh that was pressed against his abdomen. “That’s all I want, baby, just want you to feel good. Wanna make you happy.”

Peter felt like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear those words. Because hadn’t been truly happy in so long, and here he was now, with the man of his dreams, feeling loved and cherished, so happy it was overwhelming.

The soft sob bubbled up from Peter’s lungs before he could stop it, and he immediately slapped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound. But they wouldn’t stop, and neither would the tears that were again stinging behind his closed eyelids. God, he had to stop fucking crying. He felt Tony slow down before freezing completely and blinked rapidly before shutting his eyes, not wanting to see the expression on his lover’s face.

But he could imagine it perfectly well.

One of Tony’s hands brushed against his cheek. “You’re crying again. What’s wrong? Peter? Did I-” He cut himself off with an audible swallow, voice unsure. “Did I do something? Does it hurt?” Starting to pull out, he stopped when Peter’s eyes snapped open and a hand clutched at his wrist.

Sniffling, Peter shook his head as he tried desperately to control breathing and his wobbling lower lip. “No no no, you’re perfect. I’m fine. I just- I just love you so much, Tony.” He hoped that the truth in his words could be heard. Because it was true. This was everything he had ever wanted.

The shine of tears appeared in the older man’s eyes, too. He shot a shaky smile down at Peter, reaching his head down to pepper kisses on his face before landing the last one on his lips, their foreheads pressed together. “Oh, baby. I love you too, Peter.” They kissed deeply for a moment, Tony starting up with gentle thrusts again. His hand wrapped around Peter’s cock that was trapped between their bodies, stroking it in time with the movement of his hips. “And I’ll show you just how much, honey. You gonna let me?” While his hand kept the same pace, he began to speed up the rocking of his lower half.

Peter let out a choked cry as the head of Tony’s dick repeatedly nudged against his prostate. “Yes, Tony, fuck, fuck me,” he heaved, breath catching with each thrust, the soft ‘ah- ah- ah’s filling the bedroom. Despite getting emotional, he was still extremely close to the edge, it wouldn’t take much for him to be pushed over. “‘M so close, Tony.” His legs splayed to the side, muscles unable to hold them up any longer.

If the way he began to lose his rhythm was any indication, the dark haired man wasn’t faring any better. “Yeah, baby? Gonna cum again, cum on my cock?” His voice was rough with the exertion of holding himself upright, his core flexed tightly.

Peter gasped, hole twitching wildly as he shallowly pumped his hips up into Tony’s grip. “Mmhmm. Want- want you to fill me up, Tony, please.”

“Shit,” Tony hissed, his balls drawing up as he reached his peak at the young man’s words. “Jesus, Peter, fuck-”

Peter groaned at the feeling of the hard flesh jerking inside him, the heavy warmth that was filling him. It triggered his own orgasm, thick ropes of cum shooting from his tip and covering his stomach and Tony’s fingers. His toes twitched as he curled them, lost in the sensations. “Tony, Tony, love you,” he muttered through the haze clouding his head.

Tony trembled above him, hips still thrusting shallowly as he rode out the aftershocks. He pressed a messy kiss to Peter’s temple. “I love you too, Pete. So much. And I’m never gonna let you forget it.” He let his lips rest there for a moment before pulling away and slowly pulling out of Peter before rolling off to the side. His arms grabbed the smaller man and pulled him in, close to his chest.

Peter sniffled lightly, squeezing Tony’s waist. He stretched a bit, getting comfortable in the man’s hold before pressing his mouth to one of the gently defined pec muscles. “I love you more,” he whispered quietly, eyes slipping shut as they lay there in the afterglow.

He hadn’t been this content in nearly a year. And now, it was all his. This feeling, this man, this love.

And he wasn’t going to let it go.

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #nff starker #nff #death mention #Peter’s EDITH!verse #SbPBP #B&B write #if I need to tag anything else let me know

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petewentzisblack1312 · 3 years ago

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i wanna talk a little bit about the shitty comments ive gotten over on tiktok because ive gotten my fair share and theres not really a wider message other than "black people are traumatized constantly for the crime of existing" and because this often feels like a thankless task but thats in part because i dont talk about the bad parts at all and people mistakenly think everyone is as lovely and as willing to learn as they are. make no mistake i absolutely love those of you who are grateful for the work i do but many people like, personally hate me for the work i do.

a classic is the guy who tried to convince me that wyclef jean is a pop producer as opposed to a dancehall producer brought onto pop songs to make them more dancehall, and also tried to convince me that poly styrene didnt ever talk about race or being black, and then followed that up with just. straight up inaccurate racist dogwhistling. he was like "blacks commit most of the crimes" which is patently false and we literally were not talking about crime. he just. brought that into the convo for no reason.

theres the guy whos entire argument was "you maybe made a slight error kinda and youre just saying inflammatory stuff out of context" despite the fact that a good portion of my page is dedicated to adding the fucking context. and then ended it with a death threat asking me how much cyanide itd take to poison me and my neighbours.

then theres the most recent asshole, a british imperialist who found a video where i said we (the english caribbean) want our money back before arguing that 1) england didnt take any money from us and they established our country so we should be grateful and 2) after i explained that they kidnapped us he responded with the misrepresentation that we werent kidnapped and were sold by other africans which for starters, slavery in africa was not chattel slavery and furthermore, after they realised what chattel slavery was, they stopped trading with europeans. and then they kidnapped us. which there are multiple accounts of. like he just didnt know shit about the transatlantic slave trade and was just repeating a gotcha style fun fact and that one made me so damn mad because we have to learn so much about their shit for brains country and they dont even learn what they did to us.

lets also throw in the racial gaslighting ive experienced from 21/p fans, some of which youve seen but which also happens on tiktok and instagram, even on videos i only commented in agreement of. some highlights include being told reverse racism is real (excellent company) and also what is still the funniest thing i have ever seen, someone telling me they were the first to speak out during the protests only for their example to be them posting a black square on insta. the jokes write themselves.

also the response to me saying anything negative about anyone ever is a rumour constantly used to discourage black alt kids in the scene having anyone to look up to despite the fact that its not true and actively damages the person involved and there are plenty people in the scene who have done worse than that and yet we havent held them to account. literally just to ruin my day. not even bc they care about her, just cuz they think itll hurt.

im sharing these just to kinda illuminate the way being openly black is discouraged, which is why when you get the opportunity, you should encourage it. not just righteous anger, but innocent joy too. it may not be for you, but you are a member of this community, and sharing black joy is the best way to make sure its seen by the people who need it. note: black joy is not only black people being happy, but also black people being happy while being black. talking about and enjoying black culture and black identity and black beauty and blackness. it may not be for you, but why not signal boost? being in the minority means its harder for things to spread. help us find each other.

anyway. just wanted to share. these things happen, and i think its unhealthy to pretend they dont hurt too.

#dils declares #dont rb

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judylicious · 4 years ago

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And When He Smiles I Swear I Can’t Breathe

Alan Rubin x fem!Reader

Word count: 1,996

Fandom: Blues Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Blues Brothers characters or movies. This refers to Alan Rubin as a character in the movie, not the real Alan (although he obvsly played himself but you know what I mean)

I’d like to add that I made everyone of the band a few years younger (so the age gap between the reader and Alan isn’t that big), so he’s approx. in his early 30s.

Sophia & Lisa are two OCs created by two lovely people within the fandom.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, COs having some kind of breakdown

So the next two chapters are gonna be somewhat of a bumpy ride for Charlotte. Just please stay and bear with me until the end of chapter 4, when the magic starts happening. Xx

Chapter III

The next morning Charlotte was having breakfast with her family. “I didn’t hear you coming home last night.” Her dad gave her a harsh look. “Well, yes it got pretty late. I fell asleep during the last movie and the girls felt so sorry for me they didn’t wanna wake me up!” She laughed, trying to lighten up the mood but her father just starred at her emotionless. “I’m sorry, dad. I promise it won’t happen again.”, she added in a apologising tone, which seemed to soothe him. “What films did you watch?”, her sister asked curiously. Charlotte looked at her with big eyes. What the hell? She knew her sister asked that without any ulterior motive, it was just her way but still… “You know, those classic ones. Halloween and some romcom in the end to lift everyone’s spirits.”

“Was it worth watching?” Oh for crying out loud! Thankfully the phone starting ringing, Charlotte’s mother picked it up. “Hello, Sylvia Ellington speaking.... Hun, it’s for you, it’s Lisa!” The girl quickly jumped to her feet. “May I take it in my room, please?” Her mother looked at her husband and gave her daughter a quick nod. In her room Charlotte took the phone to sit on her bed. “Lisa?” “Hiya!” “How was your evening with Lou? Did you…?” “Naah, we didn’t. But it was lovely seeing him again, I missed him so much. He’s just so shy sometimes. I mean I love that about him, I just wish he’d take the initiative more often.” “I’m sure he will eventually. It was your third date after all. Take it as a compliment that he ain’t rushing things and wants you both to be ready.” “I hope you’re right. Sooo…? You and Alan? I saw you two leave…?” “Yeah, yeah stop it right there. He took me home like a gentleman.” “BORING! Nah, I’m just kidding.” Charlotte sighed. “You know, I like him but I don’t know anything about him. Is he single or seeing anyone? Perhaps he was just trying to be friendly, taking the opportunity for a nice drink. No more, no less.” “Just ask him out on a date, pretty sure his reaction will tell.” “And what if he’s interested in a casual hook-up only? I don’t wanna make a fool out of myself.” “I’m afraid you won’t know if you don’t try.” “Hmm.. But I know someone who DOES know! Lou! I’m sure he knows what’s going on in Alan’s life, you always told me there were close.” “Yeah but.. I don’t know. It would feel strange asking Lou about Alan for you.” Both girls were silent for a moment. “Wait, I’ve got an idea.” Lisa said excitedly. “I’m meeting Lou in his lunch break at the cafe tomorrow noon. You could accidentally bump into us and join us.” Charlotte giggled. “Sounds perfect. I see you then!”

The next day Lisa opened the door to the small Soul Food Café on Maxwell Street and greeted the waitress with a warm smile. “Hi Mrs. Murphy!” “Hello sugar, nice to see you again.” Lisa sticked her head in the kitchen. “Hey Lou!” He looked up from the dishes and his face lighted up the moment he saw his girl. “Give me a minute, babe. Right with you.” Lisa smiled and chose a table at the window. She ordered Lou’s and her favourite dish and watched him as he left the kitchen. He quickly pulled off his hair net and gave her a kiss before sitting down. “Food’s already on it’s way.” He grabbed her hand and caressed it with his thumb. “I’m so happy to be back after our tour. I love performing with the boys but I felt sorry for leaving you so early in our relationship.” He softly brushed a strain out of her face when he got interrupted by someone banging against the window. Charlotte. She quickly walked inside. “Oh my God what are you two doing here?” “Well for starters, I work here.” “Would you like to join us, Charlie?” “Sure, why not, thanks. How are you two doing?” “Good thanks, we were about to have lunch.” The tall, handsome man said. The girls gave each other a look, without saying a word. Lou’s eyes wandered from one girl to the other and back again. “You two are terrible actors, you know that.” And he started to laugh. “Why are you here, Charlotte?” “I’m sorry, Lou. It’s because of Alan. I had a lovely time with him the other night and was wondering, is he dating anyone recently?” “Hard to tell, really. I mean with us touring in the last couple of months, it was difficult for all of us to meet anyone at all. I know that he used to see a woman named Lari. They also met a few times when we where on tour. Think she owns her own business, forcing her to travel quite a lot through the states.” “Are they… dating? I mean is it anything serious?” “I don’t even know if they still see each other.” “So nothing serious?” Charlotte kept pestering him. Lou sighed. “Listen, Alan’s one of my best mates but you should know that he’s quite popular with the ladies. Even I can see how good looking he is. Every concert he had some other woman showing up for him backstage and I can’t remember the last time he was in a serious commitment.” He could see the disappointment and sadness in Charlotte’s face and felt sorry for her. “But you’ll never know. Perhaps when the right one crosses his way.” “I heard you, Lou. but thanks for the effort to cheer me up.” She quickly got up from her seat “Really sorry for spoiling your little date.” And with that she left the cafe, Lisa running after her. “Charlie wait, please!” She finally had caught up with her. “I’m sorry Lou didn’t tell you what you’ve wanted to hear.” “It doesn’t matter okay? I don’t even know why I got my hopes up in the first place, we had a drink, that’s all.” Lisa looked at her friend with compassion in her eyes, grabbing on of Charlotte’s hands. “I guess, Alan’s been the first one who showed any interest in me for quite some time and it felt nice.” She looked down at her hands, fiddling around. “Honey I’m sure someone will come along eventually.” “Right, and as soon as the meet my dad they’ll keep running away.” “Don’t you think it’s time to move out? Sophia got her own place, too.” “I already told you, I can’t. It’s complicated. I don’t expect you to understand.” She freed herself from Lisa hand and started walking down the street. “Charlotte!” But she started to walk faster until she ran, disappearing in the crowd on the streets. Lisa went back inside the cafe and sat next to Lou, who softly put his arm around his girl. “I’m sorry for what I’ve said, I didn’t think she’d take it so hard.” She gave him a quick snog on his cheek, reassuring him that her friend would be okay, though she couldn’t stop thinking about her and how hurt she was.

Charlotte got home around dinner time and found her mother in the kitchen preparing food. “Mum?” She leaned against the worktop, resting on her elbows. “I’m thinking about moving out.” Her mother dropped the knife and looked at her concerned. “This again? Don’t let your father hear about your ideas.” “What ideas?” The two women were startled and turned their back to face Charlotte’s father, who had gotten back from work. “I still wanna get my own place, dad!” “I thought we’ve talked about this way too often, Charlotte.” “But I’m old enough, I could get a job and pay for the rent of a little room myself.” She watched him pouring a glass of whiskey and taking a sip. “Dad?!” He crashed the glass down onto the table. “This still ins’t open for discussion! As long as I’m paying for your education, you stay where I can keep an eye on you!” He said angry. “No one’s asking you to pay.”, Charlotte mumbled away and was about to leave the room. “What did you just say?” “Nothing!… Right so perhaps I don’t wanna study law.” “Don’t you forget that your mother and I had to go through a lot of trouble to get you that college place, considering your poor grades.” He walked towards her with big steps, shaking his finger at her. “Well, would have been nice if you had asked me before.” “Do you even listen to what you’re saying?! Have we left our manners at the door once more?” He was furious and discounted his glass from the kitchen table in one motion. Charlotte hated seeing him like this and it was one of those moments when she had to decide whether to retreat, displaying her fear of him or stand her ground, and for the first time ever she decided for the letter. When her father got closer, she could feel her knees began to buckle, she was trembling. Suddenly he grabbed her throat, pushing her head up and forcing her to look at him. “Once in your poor, miserable life you got the chance to do something useful with it. And we’re sticking it up your erse. Show some fuckin gratitude. If it wasn’t for you mother you wouldn’t even be standing here!” He yelled at his daughter wrathful and she felt his spit on her face. She knew what he meant by that. She knew that her father didn’t want her, when her mom, his girlfriend at that time, told him she was pregnant with his kid. “And clean up this mess! Your mother doesn’t have to do everything around here.” He added before he left hold of her and stormed out.

As it got dark Charlotte checked on her parents in the living room, both had fallen asleep in their armchairs. She left the house for a walk, which would hopefully get her mind off her toxic parents. She wasn’t living far away form Chicago city, so eventually she bought herself a beer at some street shop and set down on the pavement between two parked cars, hugging her knees. I will be stuck with them until I’ve finished college. If I finish at all. If he doesn’t care for me why doesn’t he let me go. It wasn’t the first time that night when she thought about just leaving, running away from her family.

And then she heard it. His laugh. His warm and soft giggle. She looked up but couldn’t see no one. There it was again. And then she saw him. He was walking on the other side of the road. A lady at his side, one arm tugged into him. She was absolutely gorgeous, tall, long, straight blond hair, wearing heels, a mini skirt underlining her stunning long legs and as it seemed his jacket hang over her shoulders. They both were laughing and smiling at each other. And Charlotte felt a deep, sharp pain in her heart. She was purely crushed seeing him with another woman. And before she knew it they were out of her sight, disappearing behind some cars.

She laid her head on her arms, squinting her bleary eyes. She wasn’t angry with him. But with herself. Disappointed she had left him into her heart so early, without knowing so less of him. And she felt stupid, like a teenager for getting her hopes up only because she liked him, only because he was nice to her. She felt stupid for believing a man like him could be interested in someone like her, when he could be with an actor or a model, literally anyone. And a single tear ran down her cheek before she started weeping into her arms, trying to wash away the entire day.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

#Alan Rubin x fem!Reader #Alan Rubin x Reader #blues brothers #blues brothers fanfiction #blues brothers fandom

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a-crimson-lion · 4 years ago

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A (Hopefully) Reasonable Response

For @kiricookie .

[Read this if you want the following ramblings to make any sense.]

(Sorry this is so hecking long and all over the place, I just wanted to be thorough.)

[Manga Spoilers and Movie Spoilers Ahead]

I’m gonna do things a little differently here.

For starters, I’m gonna not gonna be addressing the fandom at large, because the fandom at large won’t be able to give me an answer.

I’m just talking to you, kiricookie. Because it’s your post, and you deserve to know what people (like myself) think of it. Just letting you know right now, and this is with absolutely NO sarcasm: I won’t be rude. I’ll do my damndest to not be rude.

Because you didn’t go and make that post and share it with the entirety of the world wide web just for it to get ridiculously crapped on without so much as a glance.

So, I’ll read it. I’ll think about it. And I’ll give you my thoughts. You don’t have to read them if you don’t want to. But common courtesy makes it so I leave the opportunity. You deserve that much.

You probably already know what this is about anyway. So I’ll start with something… unexpected, at least coming from someone like me…

...you’re right.

To be more specific, you’re right about Tenya. You’re right about how his split second decision to murder Stain should be concerning and in fact is concerning. You’re right about how he’s the most prone to lose his control and how his emotions get the better of him. You’re right about all that.

*Internal wince* Now, if you don’t mind me going into other details…

I’m not saying anything that spurnned on Tenya to murder the Hero Killer was in any way justified; it wasn’t. It never could be, it never should be. Murder is wrong no matter how the hell you look at it, and even if you have no choice but to go through with it, you shouldn’t be happy that you had to take someone’s life under any circumstances. But looking through Tenya’s perspective for a moment… he lost a brother, in a way. He lost a hero. Someone extremely close to him, who inspired him and others, who did nothing but good in any way he possibly could. And then he got cut down by someone who Tenya only knows as the antithesis of good and now his brother can’t do any good, or at least not as much as he used to.

Again, that doesn’t excuse attempted murder. In a morbid way, it’s sort of the logical extreme of when we saw Tenya at the start of the series: he immediately writes of Izuku because he only sees him as a hindrance and recognizes his own shortcomings after the fact. He immediately guns after Stain because he did something unforgivable in his eyes, and recognizes his own shortcomings after the fact.

In the heat of the moment, Tenya is prone to failure. He is prone to misjudgement. We’re talking about the same guy who decked his best friend because he was about to do something borderline illegal. The entire point of Tenya is to showcase the distance between what he wants to be and what he actually is, and the steps he takes to get there.

But yeah, the murder plot was a tad… oh who am I kidding, a HELL of a lot of overkill.

But circling back to why we keep scrutinizing Katsuki about his mannerisms while we keep praising Tenya from sunrise to sunset… I can’t speak for all of us Bakugo antis, because I know some of us have legitimate reasons for disliking him and the others are butthurt record players on repeat that you mentioned, but I can at least give out my reasoning behind it.

We don’t talk often about Tenya having a murder episode because he never tries to do it again, and he legit tries to improve and avoid anything similar happening again.

After the Hosu incident, Tenya admits that Stain was right about him, and he resolves to not be a screw up from then on out. He makes an effort to be a better class representative, a better example than what he had been setting before. He doesn’t deck Izuku just because “hE aNgY” during the Hideout Raid arc; he doesn’t want Izuku to make the same mistakes as he did, because everyone else was worried about Tensei, Stain, and Tenya, but Tenya was so dead set on “righting a wrong” that he ignored everyone around him and nearly got himself killed for it, and if things were any worse in Hosu, Tenya might not have been the only one dead. For all intents and purposes, that’s what Tenya thinks is happening again when the Bakugo Rescue Squad suggests tracking their friend down.

And like you mentioned when Tenya offered to lend an ear to Izuku when the Shie Hassaikai incident was tearing him apart from the inside, that’s the progression coming full circle. Tenya realizes that there are other people in the equation that he needs to listen to and that need to be listened to, otherwise they’ll do something completely ludicrous and get themselves and/or other people hurt in the process.

And the thing is, Tenya only needs to have his “Oh f***” moment once. And it’s barely brought up again, which puts out of the audience’s minds.

(Sidenote, while you’re “heroes not killing is weak” thing kinda came out of left field with me, I actually agree. A whole lot actually. Just so you know.)

The thing about Katsuki is that everything supposedly “wrong” with him… is still kinda going on to some extent. Sure, the people at UA have thicker skin and are willing to brush him off or call him out, but that doesn’t change the fact that some of his behavior is… highly concerning.

Personally I tend to avoid the Episode 1 suicide baiting (“avoid,” not “ignore”) because it was forever ago and it is repetitive, but I still think it needs to be addressed to some degree. In any case, Katsuki’s actions throughout the series are what get me and others to not think he’s exactly hero material. In any team exercises, he often puts himself at the forefront (not without reason, but still) and tends to shy away from tag-teaming unless his back’s against the wall. Despite what the Joint Training Arc would claim, Baku did most of the heavy lifting on his own, with little to no actual teamwork, though that’s more of a narrative problem than an in-universe problem. Even his teamwork with Izuku is still shaky at best; he keeps yelling at him, berating him, and telling him to do his best just so he won’t screw Katsuki over.

Say what you will about Katsuki’s “unique” personality, it may fly with his classmates, but realistically speaking, it’s gonna be a problem for when he does get into Professional Hero work. Can he be rude and snarky on professional business? Absolutely. Does he have to scream at his partner(s) whilst making them feel like they’re at the bottom of the barrel? Eh…

Before I commit to your last paragraph, I wanna bring up something. We can both agree that Tenya lost a hero when Tensei was attacked, right? We can both agree that his decision to ignore everyone and go in guns blazing was terrible, 0/10, wouldn’t recommend, right?

Okay. It’s not to the same degree, but… Katsuki has done something similar.

Katsuki lost a hero too. His name was All Might?

And what did Katsuki do well after the fight was over. He didn’t talk about it with anyone. He dragged out his childhood friend so he could rough him up, because fists is the only way he knows how to deal with his disconnect of societal expectations and, as AO3 would attest, Katsuki is complete s*** at feelings.

Katsuki did the same things Tenya did, albeit to a lesser degree. They both lost a hero. They both didn’t talk about it to anyone. And in the end, they both tried to hurt someone in order to alleviate their pain. The aftermath is… admittedly lucky for both parties.

So, about your last paragraph before the GIF… do you wanna know why antis (at least like me) keep bringing up Katsuki’s previous mistakes. It’s less so because they ever happened, or even because Katsuki did them. It’s more so because despite what the narrative and most of the fandom may think, Katsuki’s mistakes are never treated as such, at least not substantially. Eraserhead doesn’t even bother giving Katsuki a pep-talk about his behavior on the first day, or at any time he’s there to witness Katsuki acting like a jackass. All Might doesn’t stop the training exercise when Katsuki nearly kills a fellow student, which he was aware of being a possibility but it’s fine so long as he dodges, and it isn’t even addressed properly afterwards. In the Final Exams, Katsuki hitting his partner and later being dragged out the gate doesn’t bar him from passing, like say, Hanta; while Katsuki did contribute more, it doesn’t change the fact that his initial uncooperative behavior wouldn’t fly in the Pro Hero world, and he made himself a liability in those last few seconds against All Might. Even him losing the Provisional License Exam isn’t as big of a deal, because Katsuki gets to learn about a really important Quirk, no one’s grilling him like, say, Izuku is getting grilled, and not having his License and getting an additional day of house arrest spares him a potential “maybe strength isn’t everything” ass whooping from Mirio. I could go on a bit longer, but I think you get the jist.

Now, I’d absolutely LOVE it if society didn’t royally f*** up Katsuki’s perspective the way it did, but the problem is that the narrative has absolutely no intention of showing or admitting that Katsuki’s perspective is problematic. Ever since Deku vs Kacchan 2 decided that was enough development for Katsuki, he is always in the right, 100% of the time. Any opposition is few and far between, and will often be seen in the wrong anyway despite the legitimate concerns a person like Katsuki would present. Sure he can tell a kid not to look down on people during the Remedial Course arc, but when the Cultural Festival comes around he immediately decides to look down on the other classes. The fact that a majority of UA hates Class 1A is some grade-A bulls***, but the speech Katsuki gives to 1-A is also bulls***.

It essentially boils down to “F*** everybody else and only do things for yourself.” Because that’s what heroes are supposed to do…

That aside, Katsuki needs help. He needs therapy, anger management, and someone who won’t take his s*** just because he’s a so-called natural born leader with a flashy Quirk, because that’s what canon essentially boils down to. Any time Katsuki takes the lead, at least in my eyes, it’s less so because he’s a legitimately good leader and more so because the narrative has decided he’s the only one who should be taking charge.

I want Katsuki to improve, even if I personally have given up on the prospect of that happening. The problem starts when the narrative continually insists that Katsuki is more or less in the clear and is totally fine when really, he isn’t.

Izuku needing help is obvious and valid, but Katsuki needing (and getting) help is valid, too. Now if only the narrative could pick up on that.

And as for that last bit of your post… really, I can only speak for myself. As strong as Izuku is, as much as his opinion matters in this entire debacle, I can’t help but feel like Izuku is more blinded by nostalgia more than anything else. He still wants a connection with someone he’s known since childhood, and I can respect that, but the thing is, Katsuki spent nearly a decade telling Izuku, intentionally or otherwise, that he didn’t want the same thing. This continued from the time Izuku tried to help Katsuki out of a river all the way until after the Sludge Villain incident. And society had a hand in that bulls***tery, Katsuki was never the only culprit, but he was still a prominent one. And I don’t know about you, but nearly two years is probably not as long as you’d like to think it is, because that’s how long that it’s been since the overplayed, overrepeated suicide bait. And even ignoring that, two years isn’t enough of a gap between the near decade of societal degradation Izuku had to suffer through.

I don’t hate that Izuku is so forgiving. I hate that Katsuki isn’t willing to accept or consider it in any meaningful capacity. I hate that in a world where Tenya Iida, Shoto Todoroki, Kota Izumi, and even Gentle Criminal exist, that Katsuki has to be the contrarian because of his damn pride. And again, society f***ed up on that end, but that doesn’t stop the fact that Katsuki has actively refused to pursue other options, instead staying on the first and foremost thought of “blast it,” with his Quirk or his voice, unless he’s in combat, in which case it becomes “blast it but don’t be stupid about it.” Because Izuku’s forgiveness has worked before for the benefit of others. What does Katsuki get from Izuku’s forgiveness he doesn’t even fully accept, other than another obstacle he sees that needs to be beaten?

Yeah he’s still 16, yeah he’s a teenager and therefore still has the time to grow proper, but you know who else is 16? Tenya Iida. Shoto Todoroki. Two prickly, borderline asshole characters who also received gradual growth, faced setbacks and proceeded to grow past them. Meanwhile, Katsuki is still just passing the halfway point. I’m not putting that on Katsuki, but if Hori really wanted us to root for him, he shouldn’t have displayed that characters like Tenya and Shoto are able to develop overtime at faster rates than Katsuki can, and as much as I can keep playing the society card, Katsuki wasn’t the only one bombarded with high expectations. Shoto, Tenya, Momo, and potentially Mina all come from backgrounds wherein high expectations were expected of them; Shoto grew up in a confirmed abusive household for crying out loud, and we’ve seen him trying to grow past his issues.

Katsuki has yet to demonstrate anything similar. After Deku vs Kacchan 2, he’s still yelling Izuku’s ears off, or throwing his mask like a ninja star because comedy, or trying to fight a big time villain again because he still actually hasn’t learned to take a loss. Maybe it’s because he internalized most of his self-hatred and projected it onto Izuku so long, but I really can’t say for certain. The change doesn’t have to be night and day, but it can certainly be more substantial than what we’re getting now, and that alone disappoints me. And I’m sorry to say it, but the wait for Katsuki to finally grow beyond his excessive asshole tendencies and graduate to decent asshole is draining on me, and no longer a big contributor to me keeping up with the story (Izuku is a big contributor to that, because I’m basic).

Changing each other probably wouldn’t be advised, but their dynamic and their issues with and independent of one another should still be addressed. I have a big issue with “win to save, save to win” because of this, actually. Katsuki has to give a s*** about people, sure, but Izuku doesn’t need to focus more on winning when he already wins enough as is. It’s a false equivalence that further justifies the worst parts of Katsuki. That obsession with winning, with never falling behind in the eyes of society, only further fuels his need to put others down and push his physical capabilities to the maximum while he puts his emotional spectrum on the backburner. And the “friendship” he has with Izuku isn’t gonna change that, because again, Katsuki’s primary concern is surpassing One for All, surpassing Izuku as the Chosen One. He has yet to display any major concern for Izuku beyond the extent of his Quirk usage in the main series. The closest thing we’ve gotten was a look of shock on his face during Heroes: Rising, and this was in response to Izuku suggesting that he pass One for All.

On that note, Izuku cares about Katsuki, as a person, as a rival, and as a friend, and he has displayed this time and time again. Katsuki has only shown care for Izuku as an obstacle, as a challenge he must overcome and one he wants to overcome without hindrance. He has yet to show any semblance of care for Izuku beyond that with meaningful context, believe it or not. And quite frankly, I’m getting sick of people wanting to bring Katsuki on board just because Izuku is giving him the benefit of the doubt when he arguably hasn’t done anything proper to earn any of Izuku’s trust. I know Izuku’s not weak, I know he’s sound of mind, but Katsuki is not a rational subject for Izuku. He has known this boy since childhood, he has seen what he is capable of, and his optimism keeps him in a favorable light. That is incredibly noble of Izuku, and I commend him for it, but I cannot stand by the decision when Katsuki’s attitude towards Izuku and his actual contributions to Izuku’s journey don’t show anything direct or substantially reflective on Katsuki’s end.

...but that’s just me. The hell do I know anyway?

And if you actually bothered to read this word vomit… thanks.

-Crimson Lion (18 August 2020)

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hysterialevi · 4 years ago

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His Name Was Isaac - Ch. 6

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

Author’s note: This part’s a bit shorter than the others, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Thank you for all your support so far :)

Previous chapter | Next chapter

This story is also on AO3

THAT NIGHT

BLACKWATER SALOON

Storming up the wooden staircase, Micah quickly breezed through the other customers scattered around the saloon as he made his way to the young man, ready to beat some answers out of him.

According to the bartender, the man was still in Blackwater and hadn’t taken his leave yet, so Micah decided he’d pay the boy a visit after all the hell that broke loose at the bank.

He knew that the boy would cause some type of damage -- he didn’t seem to be on good terms with the Van der Lindes, after all -- but Micah never expected the kid to cause this much chaos.

Thanks to him, one of their men was dead, the Pinkertons were after them, their supplies had been destroyed, and on top of all that, Dutch was now on high alert for any traitors within the gang.

Micah had no idea if the boy was trying to get them arrested by the law, or just kill the whole lot of them by himself, but he planned on getting an explanation tonight.

And he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Hey!” Micah called out, pounding a fist on the door. “I know you’re in there, princess. You and I need to have a chat.”

Waiting for a response, Micah heard nothing but the muffled sound of someone pacing around the room for a moment, leading him to believe that the boy was either trying to escape or find something to defend himself.

Micah knocked again. “Hey, cowpoke! Open up! Don’t make me break in there.”

This time, a voice replied.

“Gimme a damn minute!”

After a while of waiting, the door finally creaked open to a slit and revealed nothing more than the protruding barrel of a pistol, causing Micah to let out an amused laugh at the hostile greeting.

“...You really is the suspicious type, ain’t you?” He teased.

Isaac didn’t budge. “I prefer the word ‘cautious.”

Micah leaned forward, speaking to the young man in a patronizing voice. “Well, whatever you wanna call it, I’d suggest openin’ this goddamn door right now. ‘Cause otherwise, I might just kick my way in there and give you a beating after that shit you pulled at the camp...!”

The young man scoffed. “I may be suspicious, but at least I ain’t stupid. You really wanna threaten someone who has a gun on you?”

Micah chuckled darkly. “A gun won’t do you no favors when we’re this deep in civilization, boy. You shoot me, and the law’ll be on top of you within minutes. I think I’ll be just fine.”

Isaac widened the gap slightly, allowing the other man to see him more clearly through the door.

“So why did you come here, then? You don’t exactly look like you’re here for a talk.”

Micah leaned against the wall, grinning slyly. “On the contrary, I came here for answers. It’s clear to me now that I underestimated you before, but after all the help I’ve given, I’d say an explanation is due.”

Isaac paused for a minute, contemplating whether to let Micah in or not.

“...Fine.” He settled with. “But I’ll keep my gun handy, if you don’t mind. You don’t exactly radiate with trust.”

Micah smirked at that. “Well, ain’t you a gentleman.”

Letting the other man walk in, Isaac quickly shut the door once Micah was through the entryway and lowered his voice, wanting to avoid the attention of unknown listeners.

It didn’t look like anyone else had followed Micah into the saloon, but purely based on the man’s sour mood alone, Isaac assumed the gang might’ve wanted revenge after everything he’d done.

He’d have to tread carefully from here on out.

“So,” Isaac began, sliding his pistol back into its holster, “what did you wanna ask me?”

Micah took a seat on one of the chairs and lit a cigarette, allowing himself to get comfortable.

“Well, for starters...” he let out a puff of smoke, “...why don’t you tell me your name, boy? Seems only fair, seein’ as how you know mine.”

The young man crossed his arms, admittedly reluctant to share it.

“...Isaac.”

“Isaac?” Micah repeated, dangling the cigarette from between his fingers. “That’s a good name. A strong name. I actually ran with a fella named Isaac many years ago. Sadly, the poor bastard couldn’t live up to it. He was a clumsy drunk. Only in it for the money. But you...”

The outlaw rose from his chair, pointing a finger at the boy. “...You’re smarter than you look, ain’t you? Not many people could’ve snuck into our camp the way you did. But damn, did you take us by surprise.”

Isaac gave him a puzzled look. “How d’you mean?”

“Joe and Cleet never saw you coming,” Micah explained. “They were certain that no one had tampered with our supplies while we was robbin’ the bank, and the encounter with the Pinkertons didn’t exactly help matters neither. Funny how they managed to corner us on the same day of our robbery.”

Micah narrowed his eyes at Isaac. “It’s almost like... someone told them what would happen.”

The boy shrugged. “You gave me the information.”

“All I told you was that we had plans for a robbery,” the older man corrected, his tone more stern now. “I never mentioned nothin’ about a bank. How the hell did you know?”

Isaac gestured loosely to the town around them. “What else is their to rob around these parts? I assumed you weren’t gonna rustle livestock.”

Micah sighed in frustration. “Well, whatever you was plannin’ with that Pinkerton ambush, it nearly got us all killed. Dutch had to take a woman hostage just to get us outta there. And when we got back to camp, poor old Cleet ended up chokin’ on his food. The rest of us probably woulda dropped too if he didn’t go down first.”

That caught the young man’s attention. “The poison worked? Who else did it kill?”

“Nobody.” Micah answered. “Cleet’s the only one.”

Isaac was visibly disappointed at the news. “So Mackintosh is still alive, then.” He pounded a fist on the desk’s surface. “Dammit...!”

Micah perked his head up in interest upon hearing that, causing him to pause mid-action.

“Wait, that’s who you’re after? Shay Mackintosh?” He chuckled at the realization, suddenly understanding why the young man was here. “I see now... you’re tryin’ to eliminate the rest of us, so you can reach little ol’ Shay. Not a bad plan, except for one tiny flaw...”

Isaac let out a bored breath. “...What?”

“Well, you did just poison our food. And destroy our supplies. And steal our money. And break our weapons. I just fail to understand how you expect me to give you information... when I’m starvin’ to death.”

The boy didn’t seem to concerned with the idea. “Simple. You give me what I need, and I’ll pay you back the money I stole. Bit by bit.”

Micah laid a hand on the grip of his revolver. “Or... I could just kill you now, and take it all.”

“You’d never know where to find it.” Isaac countered.

“You don’t have the money on you?”

“Of course not. You think I didn’t expect you to come stompin’ back over here after I took everything you own? Keepin’ that much money on me would’ve been a death sentence.”

Micah backed down from the argument and grumpily conceded Isaac’s point, clearly not too happy with where he’d ended up.

Just a few days ago, he thought he finally had the opportunity to kick Arthur out of the picture and was planning to use Isaac as the weapon, only to now discover that the boy carried more experience than he initially thought.

If Micah had known that Isaac would actually be able to come through with his plans, he’d never have given him that much information. He figured the boy would’ve gotten killed somewhere along the way, but now, thanks to his own naivety, Isaac was hoarding all of their savings in some godforsaken armpit in West Elizabeth, and using that as a way to keep Micah on a leash.

He was trapped. And the only way out of this mess was through the very man who deceived him in the first place.

What a strange world they lived in.

“...Fine.” Micah grumbled. “What other information d’you need?”

Isaac glanced through the room’s window, making sure that nobody was listening in.

“Now that you’ve finished robbin’ the bank, I assume your gang’s gonna relocate?”

The outlaw nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

Isaac took out the map Micah drew for him, flipping it to the blank side. “I need to know how you’re plannin’ to get there. Just gimme a route, or a town, or anything that could point me in the right direction.”

Micah eyed the map suspiciously. “Shouldn’t you just be concerned with the location itself? Why d’you need to know how we’re gettin’ there?”

“Because that’s the only time your gang will be vulnerable.”

The outlaw paused for a second, piecing the puzzle together in his head. “...So you’re thinking of attacking us on the road, then. Is that it?”

Isaac took out a pencil for Micah. “Yes. The poison didn’t kill Mackintosh, so it looks like I’m gonna have to take a more head-on approach. No more hiding in the shadows or attacking from a distance. I need to confront him face-to-face.”

Micah shrugged in uncertainty. “You sure, princess? It ain’t gon’ be easy. Especially since the rest of the gang will be there, too.”

The boy practically shoved the pencil into his hands. “That’s why I need your information. Then I can decide how I’m gonna separate the lot of you.”

The older man gave in to the kid’s persistence. “Alright, alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.”

Taking a few minutes to scribble down another map, Micah roughly drew a clear line that carved its way through the Tall Trees region and down to Manzanita Post, curving back up to the Montana River just before the road hit Blackwater.

“You’re takin’ the gang through Skinner Brother territory?” Isaac asked, noticing the direction of the route.

“We have to. Dutch wants to head back east in search of a cure for his illness.”

The young man rubbed his chin in thought, putting together a new plan in his head.

“...That’d be a good spot to ambush the gang. There’s a lotta trees, and not that many places to escape. There’s also the fact that you have all them Skinner Brothers crawling around everywhere. It’d be easy to trap Dutch and his men.”

“Yeah, but it’d be easy for you to get stuck, too.”

Isaac’s mind wasn’t swayed. “I’m willin’ to risk it for this.”

“Fair enough.” Micah replied. “Just don’t come cryin’ to me when some crazy bastard’s got your hide roasting on a spit.”

Setting the pencil down, the outlaw finished his map before handing it to the boy, checking to see if he was satisfied with it.

“Is that everything you need?” He questioned flatly, evidently just wanting to go back to the camp.

Isaac thoroughly examined the piece of paper, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“For now.”

Micah held a hand out. “And my payment?”

Glancing up from the map for a second, Isaac dug into his pockets and pulled out another eighteen dollars, slapping the wad of cash into Micah’s palm.

“There.”

The outlaw licked his finger and began counting the individual bills, stuffing the clump of money into his coat once he was finished.

“Thank you, kind sir. I think I’ll head home now. Good luck on concludin’ whatever business it is you have with Shay. Can’t imagine what he’s done to get you on his tail... but I won’t cry for him.”

Leaving Isaac to his own devices, Micah made a swift exit out of the room and began quietly descending the stairs, not wanting to alert any of the other customers in case the Van der Lindes were among them.

He assumed the rest of the gang would have questions about where he was getting these sudden bundles of cash, but their skepticism meant virtually nothing to him, seeing as how they were already on the verge of death anyways.

At this point, Micah wasn’t even sure if he was interested in leading the gang anymore. He supposed it’d be possible to try and rebuild from the ashes that Dutch left behind, but considering the sad state of their small group of degenerates, he’d be better off hightailing it on his own and making money elsewhere.

He just hoped he could get rid of Arthur before that happened. That man had been a thorn in Micah’s side for far too long, and he knew as well as anybody that they’d never see eye-to-eye on anything.

His only chance right now was to get Morgan out of the way, and then run off with whatever dwindling legacy Dutch left behind in his absence.

Some may have called it cowardly, others may’ve called it rotten. All that mattered to Micah was that he made it out of this alive, and a whole lot richer.

It was the only thing he cared about these days, and the only thing that was holding him back.

Money.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #isaac morgan #dutch van der linde #Micah Bell #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 oc

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capricornus-rex · 4 years ago

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Stronger Than Blood (7)

Chapter 7: Unlikely Prize | Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: Meeting another Force-sensitive was one thing, but having them related to one of the most formidable known duelers was a whole other story to tell. While being stranded in another planet after barely escaping the Haxion Brood, Cal crosses paths with someone who’s at a crossroads with their own identity and lineage.

Also tagging @ayamenimthiriel

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Force-User! Reader, Force-Sensitive Reader, Sith-Related! Reader

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 | Previous: Part 6 | Next: Part 8 | Masterlist

7 of ?

Cal charted a course back to Zeffo.

“Why’d you wanna go back there?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly have a good look of the place,” Cal shifts in his seat as he reasons out, sneaking a side glance at Greez to watch out for his reaction. “Because I blacked out after being caught into a stasis detonator.”

“Oh…” Greez moaned with guilt in stringing along his words.

You made yourself comfortable while the newly-patched up ship zooms through hyperspace. From the couch at the holotable, you watch the crew busy themselves with their dashboards and computers, while you’re stuck to staring at the planet’s map projection, though you didn’t mind—it felt nice to have everything staying still and quiet for a change.

The silence, the engine hum, and the faint chirps of the dashboard computers—altogether, it was nostalgic.

You were so used to the sparks of welding guns and blaster fire that the silence was completely foreign yet comforting. You allowed your back to slump against the smooth leather cushion, the engine hum lulled you to sleep like a lullaby, and the blue light glared back at your eyes, making it feel heavier by the second.

However, the latter was immediately cut off by Cal stepping into the room with you.

“Hey, how you holding up?”

“I’m okay, just exhausted from all of… this.” you gestured at everything, referring to the skirmish back at Nalima and even repairing the Mantis did a number on your strength.

Cal sat down next to you, but he didn’t initiate a conversation. Unmoving, you examined his features: his freckles gave him a certain charm, your eyes trailed along the waving locks of his hair—the blue glow oddly mixed well with his ginger head—but what really catches you is the awkward motions he does with himself such as slouching against the couch, shaking his knee, or fiddling with the chipping of his glove.

Both of you know perfectly well that there is that one topic that’s been crawling at the back of your minds. Either of you were just waiting for the other to bring it up. Cal was too shy to bring it up. As for you, the topic was an odd conversation starter—especially if you’ve only known the guy for only a few hours.

“Back at Melgu’s place,” Cal finally started. “He called you a Serennian.”

“Yeah, I am one,”

“How’d you end up in Nalima?”

“It’s long a story,” you sighed, lightly combing your scalp with your fingers, staring at the holotable with blank eyes to avoid looking back into Cal.

Sensing that it was a bit of a hard topic for you to open up. He decided on another question.

“Were you…” he trailed off, that was enough to draw your attention back to him. “Were you ever a Jedi?”

You shake your head, “No, but… they tell me that I’m strong with the Force. I’ve only known so little about it that I honestly don’t grasp the concept in full, really.”

“Who taught you about it?”

“My mother, but she wasn’t like me. I was told that I was more sensitive, for some reason that I don’t know or can’t explain or don’t understand at all. I only knew one other person who was like me… but I don’t want to be associated with him.”

The voices, the exchanges, the words—they all rang back into your head. The conversations of your parents that you overheard, they were mostly about politics—a subject you couldn’t comprehend for your age that time.

“Apparently, that one person who is like me is a Separatist leader,” you scoffed, resenting him. Fully remembering his name from the hushed, private whispers of your mother; never has she said his first name, only his title in full—with the original family name—or simply the title alone. “And he’s no ordinary Separatist leader. He wielded a weapon like yours. A lightsaber, as you call it.”

In an instant, he put two and two together.

Cal reminisces way back to the Clone Wars, he had heard of the name from various conferences where he tagged along with his master back in the Jedi Temple. Although he and Master Tapal never had the opportunity to face him whether in combat or in a diplomatic negotiation, this particular lightsaber-wielding Separatist leader often found himself the talk of the town amongst the Senate and Jedi Council alike.

The mere recitation of his name stoked the embers of hate and anger that you have always carried for him. Your conviction that he was the one behind the murder of your mother remained unwavering all these years—her death may not be by his blade, but her blood spilled into his hands anyway.

“All my life, the only name I knew and carried was [Y/N] Moorken. I believed it to be my family’s name, but when he said our name was altered, I realized that my mother was dissociating us—my father and I—from him. I remember her telling him that I was better off never knowing him at all. I’ve heard everything—what he’s done, especially back in the Clone Wars, and I promised myself that I won’t turn out like him.”

You pull your legs to your chest, hugging your shins with your arms and resting your chin over your knees; you couldn’t maintain eye contact with Cal, your mind dwelled on the memories of those heated exchanges, the spitting of words, until it reached to the point where the sight of the shuttle exploding—with your mother in it and perhaps the assassin as well—forced you to conclude your flashbacks.

Cal noticed your flinching, but both of you sat in silence. For one, he was relieved that you had told him sooner; you had your reasons—one of them being that you sensed Cal that he was trustworthy enough, it was a combination of intuition and the Force trying to guide you in baby steps.

“Does this change anything on how you think of me?”

Your straightforwardness took Cal aback. It took a lot of guts from you to speak so bluntly like that, despite it being quite a heavy topic for you to disclose. He couldn’t imagine why you would think that he—or any of the crew—would shun you for who you are… or were, at least.

That was the only time you looked back into his eyes, playing into a turquoise to teal hue from the illumination of the holotable. You hate yourself for bringing up more detail, although you couldn’t help it; you have been looking for an outlet—such as someone to open up to—and you simply let loose. A sigh concluded your piece, half-expecting Cal to react and the other half expecting him to say nothing.

He shakes his head, “No, it doesn’t. Though, it just… rather adds up to my perspective of you.”

“Right…”

The two of you remained in your seats, a quake that signaled the Mantis’s landing, it prompted the two of you to stride towards the door. The entry ramp opened and a cold gust of wind greeted you. A few droplets of the rain carried by the clouds riddled your cheeks, as if that’s the planet’s way of kissing you welcome. Goosebumps pelted your skin due to the abrupt change of temperature—from Nalima’s warm and temperate climate to the gusty windstorm of Zeffo.

“I’ll be away in a few minutes, this shouldn’t take long,”

“Where will you go?”

Cal points to his north.

“I won’t be long there, unless of course I end up winding into the wrong way,”

You chuckle, “I doubt it.”

“Are you coming with?”

You stammered at the beginning, “I just might take a look around this part. I wouldn’t wanna end up too far away.”

Cal ended the exchange with a curt “Alright then” and headed off. When he was gone, you had the space of the hangar to yourself. You walk to the west part of the platform and you had a full view of the waterfalls cascading with one another, their water black yet their foam white as clouds—as if the night sky had become the floor of this planet until the true evening falls.

Your shoulders jumped when a roaring TIE Fighter zooms past the horizon above the waterfall plateau. You watched it come and go like a comet in the gray skies until it disappeared into the mountain’s backside.

“Huh, no surprise there,” you thought out loud.

You turned around and sprinted towards the derelict hangar. It was devoid of life, but for a scavenger this may as well have been a gold mine! Crates upon crates towered over your height, some were flimsily blanketed with tarps that weren’t long enough to fully conceal them, exposing the Empire’s sigil tattooed in white paint on the boxes’ faces beside the label of its contents.

Using the hem of a tarp to wipe off the dust that’s collected on one side of a crate, you reveal the white Aurebesh label beneath the grime, the label reads: PROJECT AUGUR – RESOURCES.

The first two words were intriguing. You pulled away the tarp that covers its lid, you opened to find a medley of parts that were of great variety. Picking each one up to examine them and then returning them when they didn’t attract you that much, you went on rummaging through the crates for something that you could use. After all, it’s not like the Stormtroopers will notice.

“Do they even keep a track list of these stuff?” you scoffed, examining an odd-looking part that somehow resembled a piston but you knew full well that it wasn’t.

You didn’t notice the rust-colored blast door at the other end of the hangar until it resounded loud enough for its echoes to bounce across the natural stone walls. You jolted in response. The feeling of the unknown behind that door made your heart wild.

Out of the blue, it would’ve appeared that the wind had gained a voice—an incoherent yet audible sound fluttered with the stale wind. The air hummed—hollow and foreboding—but something about that door gravitated you to it, luring you closer until your fingertips touch the controls. The pads of your first two fingers rested on the button, you hesitate, that is until the air whispered to you again—you could’ve sworn you heard your name.

“Darling…? My darling [y/n]?”

You abruptly twirled to your back, eyes wide and frantic as they search the empty hangar. The voice uttered your name again, this time you turned to the door, hoping to find the face of that voice.

“Mom?”

You pawed the blast door, hoping that she’d call again; you finally pressed the button, the door whizzes open but you’re met with an empty corridor. Unbeknownst to you, the path and hallway laid out to you was not the real one. It was the Force testing your senses and perhaps your mental willpower.

“Darling, where are you?” Jezria’s melodic voice sounded almost too ghostly, but you didn’t notice. You’re too caught up with the idea of reuniting with your mother—even if she had been dead for years.

The illusion was so surreal, too enticing even, that you lost track of things—perhaps even your senses as well—in the expense of seeing your mother another time. You spot her, but she continued to go ahead of you, a gaping distance divided mother and child.

“Wait! Mom, wait for me!” you cracked. Chasing her through the long hallway that doesn’t seem to cease in length.

Jezria, of the shell of her anyway, kept on walking. Her back to you as she continued forward.

“I’m almost there!” you announced, though unsure whether you’re announcing it for your mother or coaxing yourself to keep on.

You came upon another door, thankfully the end of the tunnel, but as you opened the second door, the next place that you reached made your small yet eager smile dissolve.

You stand in the midst of a manor’s hallway. In a single glance, you easily identified that the architecture was of Serennian make. The gray marble floors, the finely embroidered drapes along the tall windows, and the expensive-looking deep purple wallpaper with light wooden paneling that was glossy to the touch. You know this interior even with your eyes closed.

It’s your house.

“Home?” your eyebrows furrowed so much that your forehead wrinkled. You surveyed the area, and then behind your back, the same rust-colored door remained. “I don’t get it…”

Nevertheless, you strode through the hallway, following your mother’s trail.

“Foolish child…” a faceless voice hummed along the walls.

“Who’s there?!” you violently spun.

“What weak resolve,” it continued.

“Where are you!?”

“Like mother… like daughter,”

You clenched your jaw and fists, slowly turning around while surveying the entirety of the hallway.

“Show yourself!” you snarled.

“Had you been surrendered to me, then things would have been significantly different. Your mother and father would still be alive. You’d have so much power in your hands that—not even in your current age—could fathom its real meaning down to its last fiber.”

“No, you’re wrong!”

A figure appeared from the curb around the end of the hallway. It was him.

“Count Dooku.”

Even for an apparition, he seemed satisfied to hear you utter his name. He took it as a greeting and bowed curtly with a smile making his white beard more angular.

“So, you finally decided to speak my name. No matter how many times my idiot sister tried to eradicate my very existence from your life.”

You reached for your staff and immediately drew it out to its full length. Count Dooku’s apparition chuckled, amused by your naïve courage.

“Oh, child, you do not understand what is right in front of you, don’t you?”

“Does it matter? I’ll destroy you either way. You had my mother killed!”

“Puh!” Dooku harrumphed, the aristocratic air loomed around him that it’s basically his aura. “Jezria was weak. Always trying to put a façade that she can never hold up! Incapable of protecting herself and ultimately her own daughter!”

“Stop it! Shut up! You don’t know anything about her—neither do you know anything about me!”

“I don’t need to. Once the Emperor has you in his grasp, with my mission complete, I have granted him a prize: my own niece, strong and powerful in the Dark Side of the Force!”

“I am nothing like you!” you roared. “I WILL NEVER BE LIKE YOU!!!”

——————————————————–

In the middle of his roaming, something piqued within Cal enough to stop him in his tracks. From the cliffside, the cold gale muffled out the abrupt, rhythmic thunder of the pulverizers, but that windstorm didn’t do much to stunt Cal’s senses with the Force. Peering over the black waterfalls below, he tried to reach out, albeit briefly, just so he could pinpoint whatever’s troubling him.

“Bee-chirp?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, just… had a feeling. Got worried for a second,”

Cal continued his way to the Imperial headquarters, upon his entry, all of the Stormtropers had their backs turned to him—whether facing the way ahead or keeping their noses stuck to their computers. He slipped into the elevator and slammed the up button. He got to the upper level, he prowled through the ventilation shafts. The Stormtrooper’s idle banter revolved around the subject of complaining that they got nothing to do in the planet and wanted to be assigned to another, where there ought to be action.

“Did you hear that?”

Both Stormtroopers’ heads panned across the room, searching for the source of the sound—which was Cal landing on the balls of his feet against the metal grates.

“Probably just those typical exhaust bursts from the fans,”

“Shouldn’t we report that? I mean, won’t that blow up?”

“Nah.”

Cal continued to stalk in the shadows, away from the enemies’ sight, just when he had his chance to strike, their hands immediately jerked up and pressed against the ear area of their helmets. He thought he had been spotted, but he stood corrected.

“Still, it’s better if we—wait, I’m getting a radio call here!”

“Me too! What the… Jedi?!”

The young redhead’s eyes widened upon hearing the words. He knew whom they’re talking about.

“She doesn’t have a saber though!”

“So, she isn’t Jedi?! Then what?”

“It’s the fugitive from Nalima! But we’re being called as reinforcements at the caves,”

“Ugh hate that place!”

Cal watched the enemies depart via elevator, en route to the ice caves.

“[y/n]…!” he exclaimed under his breath.

Luckily for him, Cal knew the shortcut—he just needed to pass through that Purge Trooper with a rifle.

Meanwhile you were facing off the swarms of Stormtroopers coming wave after wave on you. Thanks to that delusion, you didn’t realize that you’ve wandered off into the abandoned village. But your outburst at the end has caused another energy wave exploding out of you, disorienting and alarming the stationed Stormtroopers in that very area.

So far, you were able to fare quite well against them even with just your techstaff; with the adrenaline of the outburst, you felt like you could do this all day, not once did you feel tired. The voice of Dooku in your head—as much as you hated it to hear him—coaxed you with every move, distortedly affirming and encouraging your every attack.

“That anger is your best weapon. Show no mercy! Let the Dark Side of the Force give you the power you so deserve!”

“Get out of my head!” you snarled as you fought, not caring whether or not the Stormtroopers heard you.

As for those troopers with blasters, you evaded them—utilizing both the self-defense skills you’ve learned through the years, amplified by the Force with which you couldn’t harmoniously bend to your will yet.

Eventually, the soldiers in white armor have stopped pouring in, but their horde was replaced by a singular Purge Trooper wielding twin batons. This enemy’s body may be lithe, but here was a lethality that he imposed upon the way he projects himself to his victim.

“Well,” he snarled. “You’re no Jedi, but you are a prize for the Emperor!”

You didn’t exactly grasp what he meant by that, though it didn’t matter—your survival did.

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jedimaesteryoda · 5 years ago

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The Mandalorian S1 Review

Warning Spoilers Ahead:

I admit I had my doubts when I first heard about the series, given my opinion of the Disney Star Wars universe has never been particularly high. I thought it might go the way of the sequel trilogy (my thoughts on the last one).

However, to give Jon Favreau credit, he actually does a pretty decent job. The show is basically a Wild West-version of Star Wars that takes place on the frontier with bounty hunters, homesteaders, mercenaries, roving gangs of bandits and corrupt officials.

I can’t go into it without mentioning the story it’s partially based on the manga, Lone Wolf and Cub. The story follows a ronin in Tokugawa Japan who travels as an assassin for hire with his son (an infant at the beginning) after being framed and betrayed by a powerful Imperial official. He cares for his son while being on the run as the Imperial government declares them both outlaws, and puts bounties on their heads.

This show gets right what the movies in the sequel trilogy didn’t. For starters, this show avoids exposition and instead relies more heavily on visual storytelling, slow pacing and info revealed offhand through brief bits of dialogue. The show does an excellent job of visual storytelling as everything about this character is shown through actions, body language and a little dialogue. The first half of the first episode tells much of what the viewer needs to know about him.

Mando is introduced by coming into a bar, and killing a bunch of men harassing some alien. In that moment he shows that he is a skilled gunslinger and fighter. The alien initially thanks him, only for it to be revealed that the only reason Mando helped him was not out of a feeling of justice or simply wanting to help someone out, but because he came to capture him for the bounty on his head. Mando isn’t some white knight, but a mercenary who acts generally out of self-interest. We learn that Mando doesn’t like droids when he refuses a ride on a transport from one, and instead preferring the more beat up transport. He is also a man of few words, rebuffing attempts by the alien to engage in conversation, and he speaks only when he feels he needs to.

He gets his jobs from Greef Karga, a disgraced former magistrate (who likely lost his position as a magistrate for shady dealings) who heads the bounty hunters guild, and like Mando and the other guild members is generally an amoral, self-interested individual who looks out for himself.

However, we also see that Mando isn’t a completely selfish, amoral rogue as we see him adhere to the code of his Mandalorian culture (”This is the way”), and give some of his bounty to the foundlings (orphans). We also see flashbacks of him as a child, undoubtedly during the Clone Wars, as Super battle droids attack his town.

We don’t need him to outright state his motives for saving some strange child given we see he always save a piece of his beskar iron payment for the Mandalorian foundlings, showing he has a soft spot for orphans given he himself was one, compounded with the child saving his life. We know that Mando hates droids, but he doesn’t need to tell us why as we see that in a flashback of his town being massacred by Separatist battle droids. However, we also see him grow past that as he is stricken when IG-11 decides to sacrifice himself to help the rest of the group.

The start of the protagonist's journey comes when he receives a job that should give him the biggest payment of his career up to that point. He is contracted by an old Imperial official to capture someone in exchange for a large payment in beskar iron, which he knows could be used to make the full Mandalorian armor he wants.

It takes him to a planet where he meets Kuiil, a moisture farmer who helps out Mando many times. He speaks matter-of-factly, often ending his sentences with his go-to phrase “I have spoken.” Being an Ugnaught, like other members of his race, he was enslaved by the Empire, but he managed to buy his freedom. He likely did so through his skills as a mechanic, as he managed to help Mando rebuild his ship and repair and reprogram IG-11. He is very proud, but not haughty and willing to go out of his way to help out a complete stranger at no benefit to himself such as helping Mando get back the parts for his ship and helping to repair it. He even goes with Mando far away from home on a dangerous mission. It’s also his reprogramming of IG-11 that ultimately ends up saving our protagonist and his party in the end.

To get to the prize, Mando has to fight his way through a compound with armed guards with the unexpected help of IG-11, an assassin droid. The entire sequence is a Western-style shootout which is well-done, and Mando demonstrates his skills and smarts such as using the heavy repeating blaster to shoot down the blast door. He goes in, and is surprised to find his target is actually an infant of Yoda’s species.

His relationship with Baby Yoda starts off with him shooting the droid, because it was about to shoot the baby. He does defend the baby, but he does it at the beginning simply out of self-interest, ie he is getting a huge payload for this job and he needs the child alive in order to get it. He even recklessly puts the child in danger by taking the baby with him when going to face the Mudhorn, simply because he doesn’t want to keeps his eyes off his prize. However, in that moment the child demonstrates that he can use the Force, lifting the Mudhorn off the ground, saving Mando’s life and giving him the opportunity he needs to slay it. After that, one can see him warm up to Baby Yoda. One can see it when he tells the stormtroopers to “take it easy” when lugging the cradle, and he even uncharacteristically asks about the fate of the child when he delivers it to the Imperials.

Even after he gets his payment and a new Mandalorian cuirass, you can tell the child is on his mind. Mando is about to leave for his next job, and try to get his mind off him, only to find the top of the handle for the ship removed by the baby earlier. He pauses, and then shuts off the ship. He doesn’t need to say anything, we know he is genuinely concerned for the baby, and later breaks into the Imperial compound and rescues him. However, all the other bounty hunters who tried and failed to capture the child before, go out to stop him. Even Greef who was friendly towards Mando as long as he was making himself useful to the Guild (and by extension, Greef himself), instantly turns on him. He manages to escape thanks to the interventions of the rest of the Mandalorians. Mando finds himself having to leave town being pursued not just by Imperials but by the Bounty Hunters Guild with bounty hunters on his tail. The episode is called “The Sin,” which refers to his act of rescuing the child. While any person can admit that he did the right thing, he broke the code of the Bounty Hunters Guild, and that action ultimately is what turns him into a fugitive. That none of the people he killed as a bounty hunter ever got him into trouble with the law, but doing the opposite and rescuing an innocent does, shows the skewed ethics and morality that govern the world he inhabits.

He flies to a backwoods planet in “Sanctuary,” where as the title suggests, he is hoping the planet’s isolation would give him the perfect hiding spot until he comes across a former Rebel shock trooper, Cara Dune. Cara Dune is shown to be a skilled fighter by being able to go toe-to-toe with Mando when we first meet her, and has the viewer easily believe that she is a former commando. Now that the war is largely over, finds herself out of work and without anything in the way of a home or purpose, not that different from Mando’s situation when they first meet.

He is about to leave until in a plot straight from a classic spaghetti Western, a poor farming community approaches the gunslinger for help against outlaws. He initially refuses given the poor payment, but only accepts after he learns of the community’s isolation, thinking it would be the perfect hiding spot. You see him work with the Cara to help the villagers defend themselves, and after the bandits had been routed, he decides to leave the child there, thinking he will be safe and happy there. He even refuses an offer to stay, saying he doesn’t belong there (another trope straight from a Western a la The Searchers). However, in a seemingly happy ending to this episode, cold, dark reality inserts itself in the form of a bounty hunter appearing and nearly killing the child were it not for the intervention of Cara. He is then again forced to leave with the uncomfortable knowledge that they may never be safe from others coming looking for them. In this episode, you actually see him develop as a character, putting the child’s interests above his own. He doesn’t agree to help the villagers until he learns their village is a place where he could hide the baby, and potentially have the child live in peace.

Among the episodes, 5 and 6 (”The Gunslinger” and “The Prisoner”) are easily the weakest, as well as both being the only two episodes written by writers other than Favreau. The former has him working with a neophyte bounty hunter, Toro Calican, to capture a wanted mercenary and assassin, Fennec Shand. The latter has him help an old cohort, Ran, free a prisoner from a New Republic prison ship. Both plots are just criminals and wanna-be bounty hunters allying with him just to screw him over in the end, and neither episode really contributes to the overarching narrative. At least “Sanctuary” had some heart in it, and we got to be introduced to interesting new characters that would go on to play a larger role in the story arc, as well as show some character development for the protagonist.

It picks up again with the final two episodes, “The Reckoning” and “The Redemption,” as Mando returns home per Greef Karga’s invitation ostensibly to help them get rid of the Imperial presence. Of course, after Baby Yoda heals Greef’s mortal wound he has a change of heart. He reveals the whole thing was a setup (I know, big surprise there at this point), and he decides to help Mando. They end up having to fight a new enemy: Moff Gideon. Through dialogue from other characters and his own actions such as killing his own men, Gideon is revealed to be a largely cold, ruthless figure who oversaw the wiping out of the Mandalorians.

It ends in a shootout, and we get to learn our protagonist’s name and see the face behind the helmet for the first time. In his final fight, he manages to take down Gideon in a TIE fighter after having earned his jetpack. He then refuses an offer to stay by Greef, and leaves the planet off to new adventures. However, as Jawas are scrapping the TIE fighter for parts, Gideon cuts his way out with the Darksaber, the lightsaber of the leader of the Mandalorians, suggesting that his part in the story isn’t done.

As for the child dubbed “Baby Yoda,” he has no name. Being an infant, he can’t have much in the way of personality other than being precocious, and he does seem to genuinely care for Mando. The child is Force-sensitive, and completely capable of using the Force as shown by lifting the Mudhorn, healing Greef and redirecting the blast from a flame projector. However, he is still just a baby, only using his Force powers randomly rather than consistently, and as such, can’t really be relied upon. Nothing demonstrates this more than in the final episode where under fire by a TIE fighter, Greef says “Baby, do the magic hand thing,” only for the child to respond by simply waving his hand. This works as it has the mystical part of the story, the Force, used in a constrained manner, at certain moments without overwhelming the plot.

As a result, the battles are still largely won through Mando’s fighting skills and smarts. The action sequences are good with plenty of Western-style shootouts such as when Mando attacks the compound, when he leaves town against other bounty hunters and in the final episode against Imperials. The shootouts also serve a role in the plot in serving as markers for the main character’s growth. The first shootout has him using a heavy repeating blaster and working with IG-11 to take out the fighters defending the child. The second shootout has him going up against bounty hunters wanting the child in hopes of the reward very much like he was at the beginning with even Greef referring to the child as “the bounty,” and he is saved by his own family, the Mandalorians. The last shootout has him again using a heavy repeating blaster and working with IG-11 like in the first shootout, but the roles are reversed as now his party is the one defending the child with the droid that originally tried to kill the child instead rescuing him.

The Mandalorian is for the most part a good show, and a breath of fresh air for the new Star Wars universe. The action scenes are excellent, but any show/movie good or bad can do that. What really makes the show work is the storytelling, and how it follows the main character on his journey, both externally and internally, going from amoral mercenary to hero.

Hopefully, Season 2 continues along that path and we get to see more of the character’s growth as well as more fight sequences as this is the way.

#star wars #the mandalorian #mando #baby yoda #moff gideon #cara dune #the force #kuiil #greef karga

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brooklynislandgirl · 5 years ago

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HOW I RUN MY BLOG

TAGGED BY: @whosxafraid {<3} TAGGING: @riggsanity | @mynameisanakin | @tabbyrp | @corinnebaileyrp | @multi-mused | @untamedgoodoleboys | @therealgamble | @reyjustrey | @thedarcydichotomy | @dcddyrecper | @down-in-dixie | @yourlovingspy | @lokitheliesmith | and anyone who wants to.

SPEED: I work three days a week and have weekend commitments, but I try writing every day. I have a handful of blogs and I am so behind I may never see the light of day again. But I do not drop things. I will poke at stuff forever. Just need a little Patience. Thank you. Also there IS a reason why I am Turtle.

REPLIES: I always try to keep up with my partners, matching their preference in length {single and multi para, novella, etc}, written style {not the same as formatting, mind you}, and Icon use. Longer replies require more time, as I put in my best effort any time I write with/to you, and the same goes with meme replies, other asks and the like. I feel everything should be storied, and everything is tailored to the partner first, the verse second and everything else as it falls into place. I am a multi-para and novella writing partner, just fyi. Things that I am passionate about are going to be written, and emotionally, spiritually ... ecumenically ... grammatically. Sorry not sorry.

STARTERS: I have tried posting open starters and typically fail to get anything from them so generally I don’t do those any more. I will put out starter memes, and answer the starter/open starters from others, absolutely. I think they are great ways to get things started, or advance plots and just to be nice and friendly and easy. A lot of times I will turn a meme into a thread and you, my darling minnows, are under NO obligation to keep them going, even if they are written open ended to give you the opportunity.

INBOX: All things in my inbox, be it memes, asks, random messages, personal messages, anon hate, mutual praise....EVERYTHING gets responded to, even if it takes me a while again to get things right. I don’t delete anything, I don’t ignore things. Sometimes I will see something in my inbox that I *HAVE* to address via IM or dis.cord but that’s usually my personal reaction, or a question I might have...but again. Everything, eventually, gets answered.

SELECTIVITY: This one is tricky. The best way to write with my blogs is to start with Beth. Trust me, she can find something nice about just about everyone, is the friendliest and most welcoming muse, and I can pretty much do almost anything with your verses/hcs/canon or oc muses, etc. I do prefer to have +21 year old muns to work with because I am a fossil. From the Pliocene. I have very few rules. If we jive, then I will introduce you to my other muses in case you want them for whatever reason. But seriously, if you can’t make nice with Beth but wanna get to know Andy or Sweeney real, real bad? Chances are that it ain’t gonna happen.

WISHLIST: ….I am pretty much open to most ideas, no matter how silly or far fetched. My blog is a very welcoming place. I love drama, real life, emotional investment, world building or expanding, and I don’t believe that you have to live and die by canon, because sometimes canon makes very stupid choices. If you have a story you really-really-really wanna tell, run it by me. There is a HUGE chance I will be down before you finish saying “So I got this idea...”

HONEST NOTE: I love all of my muses. I love my mutuals. I am and always was a people pleaser and I will try to make you happy. Sometimes I drop the ball. Sometimes I have very weird hours. Sometimes there are rodents I don’t even know where they came from. But like any writer on tumblr, I am a bit fragile and so are my muses {though a couple of them would rather choke on their own spite before admitting that} and all I ask is that we are treated with the same level of respect and courtesy that you are shown. I promise not to take you for granted, so please don’t do that to me.

#True Stories about Turtle

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comicteaparty · 4 years ago

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June 27th-July 3rd, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from June 27th, 2020 to July 3rd, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

If you could do your webcomic for a living, how would that change things in regards to how you work on it (if at all)?

Deo101 [Millennium]

I'd definitely put out more content, cause I could focus on it fully every day of the week.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i would probably start hating it and get burnt out

Deo101 [Millennium]

thats why I would also have to start another comic or do short stories on the side or something, too.

I would probably keep individual comics update schedules the same, I'd just do more comics

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

If it became a part-time job, I don't think anything would change. It kind of feels like that already. If I were in a position where it became a full-time job, I do dread how my relationship with the work would change. I don't think I could ever make as much doing comics as I do in my day job (which isn't crazy, but is comfortable) so I don't know if I could ever 100% transition unless it was really, really worth it It's something I've thought about a lot, for sure.

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

In a way, my comic is my full-time job? I don't make very much money with it, but I do put over 40 hours a week into it, and I don't have another job. I am in the very fortunate position of having an SO who is able to support me financially while I try to get my footing with my passion. If I was depending on it for a paycheck though, the main thing that would change is my style would probably get simpler, because there is no way I can make enough pages a week otherwise.

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

It is really the dream to be able to do it! Right now I am unemployed, so I basically treat the comic as my fulltime job, until I find the next short project. I want to be able to work on it full time! In Denmark there are some cool possibilities to get funding from the government and I hope we can get enrolled with some of those programs with our comic.

I would also just love to do small videos, podcasts, animations etc. Small fun projects

Mitzi (Trophallaxis)

If I had to do it full time, I think i'd put a LOT more hours into learning how to paint, watching speedpaints, ect. It'd also make a huge difference in my living situation, as the first thing I'd honestly do with a full time at-home job is move to another city with cheaper rent. Another state, maybe! Oh, and I'd do a lot more promo work. posters and animations are fun, but they're not quite worth it with an audience consisting of two my writing partner's friends, and my older brother.

Shizamura 🌟 O Sarilho

the biggest difference, I suppose, would be that I would make a lot more pages, a lot faster. But I like it that it's been pointed that the relationship with work changes when you have to do things full time, so there may be some unpredictable variables there

eliushi [Keyspace]

For a living for me can mean many different things: able to sustain living expenses vs full-time. There’s overlap but one gives financial security meaning an element of creative freedom. The opposite end will probably entail working on other comic projects with the current one as a passion story on the side (no change but probably might not want to draw so much after drawing for work!) If we’re discussing the ability to do the webcomic full time without financial worries then I do believe my output will increase but also I will be dedicating more time to the craft (studying story structures, art directions etc) as well as marketing/joining professional associations/pitching/connections. There are a lot of career options within the comic world and I’d love to explore everything before deciding what’s best for the current story. Ultimately if I were to do this as a living, I’d treat it like any other job: a routine, a strive for improvement, and wellness to recharge. I follow several artists not only for their art but also their schedule/workflow to see what worked for others. It’s very interesting!

In reality though, I might work on smaller scale projects on the side to build up the experience and platform needed to tell the story of Keyspace. As a full time comic creator, I’ll be seriously thinking to covert the seven novel series into a hug comic project. So TL;DR if full time, I make more pages

varethane

I'm in an odd place with my comic because.... well, I sort of had an opportunity to spend all of my time on it for a few months, when I was in between contracts at work. But I found that I wasnt getting it done all that much faster than I did when also working full time

To be fair, it's kind of hard to compare my speed between the three periods, because when I returned to work after a few months away, it was after work from home had started and now I no longer have a commute, so perhaps my ability to squeeze comic pages into my free time has expanded.... but I feel like my attention span caps out around 8 hours on any single task

So I didnt work that much faster. But... I'm also bad at keeping track. I could be wrong.

Yung Skrimp (Carefree)

8 hours is a long attention span

varethane

It's not all in one go, haha.

eliushi [Keyspace]

I definitely have to take breaks between pages, whether or not I have just a few minutes to a chunk of hours

It’s about finding a balance that works for you!

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I don't think I could put more hours daily into my comic than I currently do. I have a chronic issue with my drawing shoulder, so my body won't be able to handle that much work. Probably wouldn't be great for my eyes, either. I also don't know if I want my livelihood to depend on how many people like my story. This story is a pair of custom-tailored skinny jeans for my heart (and I have an unusual body type, making it impossible to wear skinny jeans regardless of size). It's a story I want to read. It's meant to fit ME. I don't want to worry about how to also make it fit a bunch of other people.

That being said, some people do find themselves in a situation where they're making something they want to read, and a bunch of other people just happen to like it, too. I think that would be nice

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

I physically can‘t draw for more than four, five hours a day, found that out the hard wayy

eliushi [Keyspace]

I most recently developed pain likely due to RSI and have made accommodations since then but yeah it was scary to think that I have a limit in drawing time. Gotta find ways to take care of yourself for the long run

cAPSLOCK (Tailslide)

I think if comics were my only job, I'd feel a lot more anxious about what I create, and would struggle to work consistently. Having another pursuit makes me feel like I have more freedom to experiment, learn, and make what I want to make.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

That's a really good point keii

Would drawing a comic for a living push me to change it to have more mass appeal?

I don't know but it is definitely possible and would be on my mind

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

It is the dream, if I could get a decent monthly wage on my comic, yes I will dedicate more time, work out a better schedule. Get an editor and colourist on board to help make a polished series. Altho I'm still doing this method to build good working habits But I agree with Eli's point, have to assign days for breaks for myself to prevent RSI. At present I have a trained mindset to work on schedules, but I may feel the pressure to produce as fast as I could.(edited)

Desnik

Well, for starters, my comic would actually be released somewhere, so it'd be nice if it made something back for me

Miranda

I’d actually release it. And work on it regularly, instead of sporadically like I have been! I’d definitely be more critical of what I was doing, and probably way more anxious every time I posted.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

You know, when I was only like 6 years old, I was like "I don't want to be an artist when I grow up. I love art too much, and I don't want to burn out and stop enjoying it. So I'm gonna be a singer instead." I have no idea how 6-year-old me knew about burnout, but I definitely remember saying that in response to an adult asking something like "what do you wanna be when you grow up"/ "wow, you're drawing all the time; do you want to become an artist?"

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

The more I do comics the more I think I want to do art stuff as part of my main career. I would love to make sequential art that's for science purposes

sagaholmgaard

Ah that would be the dream! I'd probably feel more secure in my ability to build up a backlog of pages, and be able to make more extra content for the PDF version! And more content for instagram and twitter as well

kayotics

If I were to be able to do comics full time I think it would completely change my current lifestyle. Not even money wise but I’d need to switch up a lot of things. Like make sure I get a good amount of exercise in. I’d probably add in another page a week, but then use the rest of my week to project manage the comic, and promote my work. I’d spend a lot of other time working on creating an online store, because I can’t see the comic working full time without some supplemental merch keeping me afloat. And I’d also use that time to create and work on another comic series I think.

Yung Skrimp (Carefree)

If I were to do comics full time I’d flex on everyone I know

Feather J. Fern

If I was able to do comics full time, be able to pay off debts, substain rent and food, and extra saved for small spluges, I will shove my comic in my family's face(I got a family who doesn't believe in me at all), dancing around screaming "I MADE IT IN LIFE" And then jump out the window because haha this can't be a reality because I don't think I will ever make it in comics. I will still keep my other job of working at a library and drawing on the side becuase I want working job insurance and also I am the type who wants to save all their money if possible(edited)

eliushi [Keyspace]

I was on board until jumping out the window

Yung Skrimp (Carefree)

I wasn't on board until jumping out the window

Now I am

Moral_Gutpunch

If I could do this for a living, I could do so much. I could afford to put my mother ina home, start my dream farm and start a bunch of conservation as well, I could help my husband fund his own sidegig, and I could afford to foster pets like I always wanted.

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

Personally, if I was able to do it I would be a lot more invested in it. I would also make a lot less excuses as to why I'm not practicing as much; it took a pandemic to happen for me to dry taking it more seriously!

I think overall I might have been more happy.

On the other hand, there's also the danger of burnout, of constantly doing the same thing over and over again for me. I'm the type that needs constant change, so I think I'm more suited to having another occupation be my main profession while comics/art would be a secondary one, where I don't have as much pressure. Furthermore, it's also my backup plan in case anything happens to my main job.

Moral_Gutpunch

^ This. I'd be focusing so much more on comics. And I'd be expanding into more comics and writing more stories. I'd be happier I'm writing more, but more frustrated at writers block

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Man if I could do it full time, might be able to pull more page updates and actually get deep into doing some long term projects I had planned for years. I won't have much of an issue as long i can also do my zine projects on the side. also would be nice to have some job insurance too along with it lmao. the only danger that could take it away if I get incapacitated for no reason lmao

TaliePlume

If I could do comics as my full time job would be awesome! But all that focus would go only to the comic and nothing else which is bad because I would be neglecting a lot of things and not getting other things done.

AntiBunny

I'd finally be able to tell my whole story and start telling another. It drives me crazy that I have more ideas than I can pursue.

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

In terms of my actual production, I'm not sure doing my comic as a living would change much lol. I already spend upwards of 40 hours a week on it, I seriously doubt there's more I could be doing. So, earning a living off my comic would just be... one less thing to worry about.

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #creator interview #comic creator interview #creator babble

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daredevile · 5 years ago

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Sam’s Gift

Summary: When Bucky is forced to do something he despises, Sam comes to the rescue.

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Hey! This is my oneshot for @itsbuckysworld‘s Summer Writing Challenge. The scenario prompt is “we’re the only ones reading at this beach party and it’s the same book”. Kinda strayed away from the prompt a little. Anyway, thank you for all the love, hope you enjoy :)

Bucky sighed as he threw the pristine invitation on his bed, regretting his decision of attending Tony’s lavish parties. The array of different coloured drinks, extra formal attire and overcrowded gatherings didn’t look too appealing for his tastes. Nevertheless, Tony promised his eager guests that all the Avengers will be present, so the matter was out of his hands.

“Barnes, you ready?” A voice called out.

Bucky stole a glance at his reflection, smoothening down the collar of his light blue button-up before stuffing a small item into his pocket. He swung open the door only to be met with a very smug-looking Sam Wilson leaning against the wall.

“Lookin’ good there, Barnes. That shirt really brings out the blue in your eyes,” Sam whistled, nudging Bucky’s side, “Y’know, maybe it’s time to use my thoughtful gift. Who knows, you might even get a girl tonight,”

“I threw that thing the moment I unwrapped it,” Bucky shrugged as Sam squinted his eyes.

“Sure, I believe you,” Sam shot him a look before walking towards a large group, announcing his presence with a loud greeting. Bucky shook his head, amused at how quickly Sam joined their conversation with a drink already in his hand.

Instinctively avoiding the crowd, Bucky walked to the most secluded area he could find, a relaxed sigh escaped his lips as he sat on the beach chair. The cool sea breeze providing him peace and serenity unlike the cacophony of mindless chatter around him. He leaned back, subconsciously observing and profiling the guests at the party. Furrowing his eyebrows, he pulled out a colourful book from his pocket.

Socialising: What You Should Do Instead of Staring at People and Making Them Uncomfortable Written by The Coolest and Most Handsome Avenger.

Bucky scoffed at the title. I don’t make people uncomfortable. Right? Feeling like he was being watched, he lifted his head to meet a pair of eyes across the room. The woman instantly turned away, but Bucky caught the alarmed expression in her features. Right?

Despite having already flicked through the book over a hundred times in the past few months, Bucky swiftly skimmed through the pages, scanning over the words one last time before making his way to the bar.

Step 1: Finding Confidence

I knew you didn’t throw it! Alright, lemme tell you how to charm and please your way through the crowd. For starters, lose the scary face. It’s not pretty. No one’s pumped to approach you if you look like you’re about to murder them. Just chillax, my man. Square your shoulders. Lift your head up high. Look like the most confident person in the room and smile.

Bucky took a large swing of his drink, turning around to face the same woman from earlier. Opting to take the leap of faith, Bucky shot her a grin. This can’t be hard, I’m only smiling. She raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of his demeanour yet returned a soft smile.

Step 2: Compliments

Okay, this might be a new word for you. It means saying something nice about someone. It’s probably a huge step for your grandpa ass, might wanna sit down and take a breath. Lucky for you, this is easy. Just go for something casual and straightforward, don’t mess it up like you always do.

Casual and straightforward compliments. Say the first thing that comes to your mind.

“I like your eyes, they’re like the colour of over-chlorinated pool water,” Bucky blurted, internally cursing at himself when she shot him a questionable look. Over-chlorinated pool water? When have I ever fucking thought about that?

“Um... thanks,” She sipped on her drink, offering a tight-lipped smile.

This is going so well. Bucky cleared his throat, gently swirling the cold mug with his hand.

Step 3: Opinions

Ask for their opinions, shows you’re interested and you care about their feelings. Just don’t be random, it’ll throw people off. Your heart rate’s probably off the charts right now, so calm down, heart attacks are common amongst the elderly.

“So, how’s the party going?”

“It’s good, I’ve never really been to Mr Stark’s parties before, so it’s a little nerve-racking,” She let out a short laugh to which Bucky visibly relaxed, taking it as a sign that he wasn’t doing a terrible job.

“Yeah, I’m not much of a party guy myself. I’m just here to watch Sam get drunk and embarrass himself,” Bucky nodded to his friend who was standing on the coffee table attempting to lift Mjölnir.

The woman laughed at his joke, entertained by Sam’s struggling efforts. Way to go, Barnes. You’re nailing it! Make people uncomfortable. Ha, lies.

Step 4: Finding Common Ground

Let’s face it. You’re not the most interesting person to have a conversation with, so you gotta find some common interests. Keep them engaged, be the leader of the conversation.

“Would you like another drink?”

“I should go,”

The two of them spoke at the same time. Nodding, Bucky took a step back, allowing her to go past him, a sheepish smile on his face. As soon as her back was facing him, Bucky groaned to himself, tossing his head back as he leaned against the counter. He pulled out the book again, wondering how he messed up. Again.

“Hey, Buck!”

Recognising the voice, Bucky stuffed the book back into his pocket, “Y/N, didn’t know you were here,”

“Just thought I’d surprise you,” A smile tugged on your lips as Bucky chuckled, “I like your shirt, it suits you,”

Bucky ducked his head, a red tint forming on his cheeks. He could never get a hold of himself whenever you were around him. You knew precisely which buttons to press.

“There’s a lot of people, don’t you think? I didn’t know if you’d be here,” You looked around the room, Bucky took the opportunity tor trail your form with his eyes.

“I’m glad you found me,” He grinned, moving closer. The instant hit of his cologne almost made you fall into him had he not held your arm in support. Bucky took another long swing of his drink, emptying the glass mug in seconds.

“Slow down there grandpa, you might get a heart attack if you keep up the pace, they are very common amongst the elderly,” You smirked at his confused expression.

“What?”

“What, what?” You giggled as he ran his hands down his face.

“How did you know?” He mumbled, keeping his head down.

“Well, I got my own limited edition copy from The Coolest and Most Handsome Avenger himself. He also may or may not have told me,” You pulled out the book from your pocket.

“Someone call me?” Sam appeared between the two of you, an arm around both your shoulders, “Would you look at that? My plan worked! Guess I deserve another drink for the months of hard work,” He patted Bucky’s shoulder before stumbling off to the bar.

“He gave it to me as a birthday present, said getting laid would be the solution to my problems,” Bucky rolled his eyes, a laugh escaping his lips.

“Did he really say that?”

“No, I paraphrased,”

finis.

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky x reader #marvel #mcu #ibwradsummer19

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